#so all the new university freshmen are coming in to get screened

[highvern]

endpoint

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x f!reader

Genre: fluff, smut, angst, FWB to idiots to lovers

warnings:  cumshot/facial, unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, oral sex (m & f receiving), rough sex, breath play (choking), mentions of exhibitionism, face fucking, virgin wonwoo mentions, idiots in love, edging (emotionally), impact play, sir kink (brief), alcohol consumption

Length: ~19.5k

Note: thank you to @gyuswhore my love, my life, for suffering through this with me. this fic is set in the same universe as her gyu fic for this collab so check it out (threat). also thank u @haologram and everyone else who beta'd this for me bc im sensitive. follow @camandemstudios for more fics!!! i will come back later and tag the people who commented on the teaser but rn im getting day drunk hehehe

summary: Senior year of college is meant to be full of celebration and smooth sailing. Years of work culminating in the final semesters that will send you off into the real world where clubs, sports, and weekends packed with hungover volunteering to pad your resume no longer mattered. It’d be a piece of cake if it wasn’t for your fuck buddy turned coworker having the same plan. But only one of you can get the department’s most coveted recommendation that all but guarantees your acceptance. Tension rises and the nearly four year thing you’ve had with Wonwoo approaches its endpoint.

collab m.list || m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

“What’s the difference between a proton and an electron again?”

“Shoot me in the fucking head,” Wonwoo whispers harshly.

He’s a seat over, a laptop covered in gaming stickers and a coffee cup containing a lethal amount of caffeine occupying the space atop the narrow lecture desk. It’s a feign to productivity. His screen is split between thesis notes and a countdown to a new video game release that unfortunately hits 0 in the middle of lecture. 

Dr. Wagner’s intro to chemistry  course isn’t difficult – freshman aside – which is why you and Wonwoo agreed to be her teaching assistants. Easy money and a way to get in her good graces come grad school application season. You’ve TA’ed the same course since sophomore year for different professors but it’s all the same; the metaphorical killing field before hopeful freshmen become cannon fodder in the real trial of will: O Chem. 

“Me first,” you whisper back. 

Wonwoo slumps in his chair, opening the shared drive keeping track of problem areas to touch on in lab hours, and typing “check for basic brain activity” under the class To-Do list. 

Fair enough. If they can’t understand the basics this far into the semester then you two are in for a world of hurt for the next practical. You're in for a world of hurt come next study hall when half of them will complain about failing their quiz this morning despite having the answers spoon fed straight from the notes.

[09:48] You:  be nice

[09:48] wonwoo: if they were smarter, id be nicer

[09:48] You: maybe they’re scared stupid

It wouldn’t be too far off. One time a freshman burst into tears while asking Wonwoo to check their practice work during lab hours. Wonwoo swears he didn’t say anything and the kid looked on the verge of a mental breakdown if the wind blew the wrong way.

[09:48] wonwoo: from what?

[09:48] You: the fact ur trying to kill them with your mind

[09:49 ]wonwoo : i wouldn’t kill them

[09:49] wonwoo: just maim or seriously injure so they dont come to class and say dumb shit

Dr. Wagner fields more questions in front of the powerpoint. More ‘dumb shit’ Wonwoo rolls his eyes at with such obvious disgust even you feel chastised. Luckily, no one can see his face from the front row besides you.

[09:49] You: you wonder why they like me more

[09:50] wonwoo: i know why they like you more

[09:50] You: oh?

Stifling an eye roll of your own you throw a glance his way as the next message comes through,

[09:50] wonwoo: nice ass

“Alright, Y/N and Wonwoo will be passing out the study guide for the next exam. We still have a few weeks so don’t worry about the back half but try and review the modules we’ve done so far and bring questions for them during study hours,” Dr. Wagner prattles off.

The gigantic stack of printouts is split in half for you and Wonwoo to disperse around the massive lecture hall. Over one hundred students sit in this lecture; the unfortunate ones who were forced to take a 9 AM course three days a week. Half look like their brain is melting out of their ears, other’s clearly haven’t paid attention at all, and a few are sound asleep. It’s Friday after all. They probably didn’t get back from their Thirsty Thursday night out until a few hours ago.

You wouldn’t even be here if Wonwoo wasn’t a built in insurance policy.

Dr. Wagner collects her things and heads towards the front exit with a cheery, “Have a good weekend!”

“There's a party at Sigma tonight,” Wonwoo shares as you both pack your own bags. The next class is already shuffling through the doors to claim their seats.

“I have work until eleven.”

“After?”

Shouldering your bag, you head towards the door where the next class is already trickling in to find their seats. “Don’t you have a tournament tomorrow?”

“I only have to be at the party for like an hour. I can come and walk you home.”

“Fine,” you nod. “But bring your laptop. I think Chan fucked up the last set of results and we need to fix them.”

It’s not unusual for Wonwoo to spend his Friday nights with you; or another night for that matter. He lives in a dingy frat house on the edge of campus with twenty other guys. It’s an act of mercy. A long standing tradition from the week before freshman year when you two were the only chemistry majors in your orientation group and that turned into a clumsy hook up at an upperclassman’s party. You didn’t know he’d be a virgin and he didn’t know your high school boyfriend dumped you less than twenty four hours before you left for college (but not before you lost your own virginity in the backseat of his car). 

It’d been…not good. 

Wonwoo was awkward and you were unsure. But he was sweet under the bravado; walked you home that night, pretended he wasn’t interested in the fact your roommate never moved in, leaving the suite empty. But he wasn’t a good enough actor to feign nonchalance when you invited him upstairs. Turns out sex was a lot better the second time around, in a bed that didn’t belong to an unknown upperclassman who could’ve burst in any minute. 

Wonwoo isn’t your boyfriend. You’re too busy piecing together the ten year plan concocted since junior year of highschool to even think about such frilly ideas. There’s barely enough time as it is; you’ve got work, a full class schedule, TAing, and all the random clubs you’ve wiggled your way into to pad your resume. 

And he’s busy too. Navigating a sports scholarship and one of the hardest majors left barely enough time for him to wipe his own ass, let alone date. Then came research hours and TAing and the fact volleyball, apparently, wasn’t just a one semester sport, there were scrimmages, workouts, and tournaments out of season. 

It’s been over three years of your arrangement which works best because you don’t have to spend precious brain power deciphering if some random guy you went out with once is playing hard to get or just straight up not interested. You have Wonwoo. He’s simple. 

So what you have now, friends. Who hook up. And work together. Who also happens to be applying for the same PhD program for next year. Not together but at the same time.

The application website stares back from your laptop with horror. 

It’s still too early to submit any materials but it’s been highlighted in bold red in your calendar since two years ago. Everything is ready to go the second it opens—except Dr. Wagner’s recommendation. It’s the sole reason you (and Wonwoo) agreed to be her TAs this semester; she’s one of the program’s most notorious alum, her words as good as gold in securing a spot. 

Someone hacks a cough and shatters the eerie silence of the library. The backtrack of sparse typing and the custodian shuffling around to have been the only company throughout your shift. No one would choose to rot at any of the weathered study tables late on a Friday night so early in the semester. 

With the abundance of free time, you fixed Chan’s mistakes in his set of trials easily, no thanks to Wonwoo who still hasn’t shown up. It’s good though. Your stoichiometry homework is submitted three days before the deadline and the mountain of emails clogging your inbox from hopeless undergrads is in the single digits. Half the labs from last week are graded for Dr. Wagner’s approval, the other half can wait until Sunday night. A long weekend of sleep awaits once the clock hits eleven and you’re free to run home.

Wonwoo stumbless in five minutes before the clock runs out. His duffle for tomorrow is slung over his shoulder and he’s already dressed for bed, rumpled sweats and a hat he definitely wore to the party with high hopes to cut out early. 

“You’re late,” you acknowledge, cramming your belongings back into your bag. He’s close enough to get a whiff of. “And you’re drunk.”

“I am not drunk,” he argues.

The lazy smile tugging at the corner of his lips says otherwise but it isn’t an argument worth having. All you want to do is get home and pass out.

He shoulders you bag, presenting his hand when you insist you can carry it on your own. The dry warm of his palm against your cold is pleasant enough you don’t argue as you tug him towards the automatic doors.

“Have a goodnight, Mr. Lee,” you call towards the security desk.

The guard, old enough to be your grandfather, calls back, “You too, sweetheart.”

Out in the balmy night, you tug Wonwoo down the street in the direction of your apartment. Two blocks and then a right turn leaving you outside the dowdy building with hallways that constantly reek of weed and new paint smell.

A pack of freshmen girls heading somewhere, marked by their matching uniform of jeans and black tops of various coverage, crowd the sidewalk straight ahead. Someone is crying, one is on the phone, and a few others stand dumbly waiting for their next movie like zombies — all incredibly wasted. You barrel through them without acknowledgement. A few drunken bitter ‘bitch’s hit your back but you ignore them to focus on the man struggling to push through the crowd without accidentally shoulder checking any of them.

On the other side, you ask, “Have fun at the party?”

“Some pledge puked on Jihoon’s stuff,” he huffs, nose scrunching.

“May he rest in peace.”

Wonwoo sways from side to side from the weight of your bag but also whatever radioactive mix was served at the party. The stairs provide an extra challenge since the elevator has been broken for weeks but thankfully it’s a short trip to the second floor.

He presents your belongings with routine ease once the front door of your apartment looms ahead. Music from the floor above shakes the walls; hopefully you can make up for the lack of sleep tomorrow morning.

There isn’t much space inside the four walls you call home – the ‘kitchen’ which is a single counter with a stove and fridge you’re barely around to use, fifteen feet away your bed in the corner, bordered by your desk at the foot cramped with a spray of errant papers and books you’ve been too busy to deal with. The monitor doubles as a TV and finally a tiny loveseat with a broken leg replaced by a stack of hard covers completes the room.

You beeline for the bathroom to wash away the filth of a long day and Wonwoo, keeping on trend, follows into the cramped space.

“Can I help you?” you ask, shirt tossed into the bin in the corner.

Wonwoo’s shirt goes the same and then his pants after a brief struggle. “You know I sleep better when I shower.” 

True.

“And I doubt you're gonna let me in your bed if I’m dirty.”

Even truer.

The water is still cold when you step in but the man glued to your back fights the worst of the chill away. Goosebumps prickle along your skin but have nothing to do with the vent that points directly into the stall (whoever designed the apartments must have had a sick sense of humor) and everything to do with Wonwoo’s mouth tracing the curve of your shoulder.

Forcing the heat blooming between your legs down to a simmer, you focus on washing up and getting into bed before it rolls into a boil and you do something stupid that’ll only leave you and Wonwoo struggling for balance. 

Shower sex is a dangerous sport. Shower sex with Wonwoo has left you both with bruises. Drunken shower sex with Wonwoo will get you both killed.

Soft hums tickle your neck as you clean up. There isn’t enough room for two people to stand in the spray at once so you take turns hogging the steamy water and braving the frigid cold until the last bits of soap swirl the drain.

Even when drying off you stay in each other’s orbit until the need for clothes and sleep drive you both out of the bathroom and back into the equally cramped space of your room.

It’s not until you’re laying on the mattress, darkness snug on all sides, that you feel Wonwoo roll atop you with purpose.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Wonwoo hums into your stomach, fingers crawling up your bare legs.

“That,” you inhale at the nip of his teeth on the curve of your thigh, “doesn’t feel like nothing to me.”

Wonwoo doesn’t answer but gives you plenty of time to brush him off while bruising your skin. You don’t. Instead you sink deeper into the blankets and let him push your shirt up until you're bare once more.

The fuzziness of alcohol lingers in his veins – just enough that he smiles into the strip of skin above your panties as you sigh and arch under the delicious weight of wandering hands and mouth at your nipple.

“Wonwoo,” you sigh and he’s up and kissing you with eager clumsiness.

A familiar prod at your core through his boxers crashes bubbles through your veins. You felt it in the bathroom but now is when you finally get to indulge with subtle grinds Wonwoo meets in his own search for friction. 

“Don’t you need to be up—ugh—early tomorrow?”

He kisses you slowly, tongue dragging along your bottom lip until your mouth opens under his. It burns you from the inside out. Mindlessly you shift your legs to frame his hips better but Wonwoo kisses deeper and all you can think about is giving in to whatever scheme he’s working up to have you both naked and panting.

He leans back a fraction to speak, giving in when you chase his lips before ducking to nip at your ear and mumbling a response. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I will worry about it when you snooze twenty alarms and your team hunts me down because I smothered their star player with a pillow,” you snort but heat under a squeeze of his fingers at your sides.

“Sleep when I’m done with this.”

“And what is ‘this’ exactly?”

A harsh suck at your jaw has your stomach tight. heavy and thick until need drips down your spine to coil in your gut and the emptiness between your thighs becomes unignorable. He hides pleased groans in the curve of your neck until you force a hand under the band of his underwear. Eyes opening, you watch the muscles of his back tense and flex as he rocks against you, fucking your fist greedily.

It doesn’t last long. Wonwoo gets antsy under the taunting pressure of your thumb and descends back down your body with burning lips. “Take your shirt off.”

“It’s cold,” you complain but do as he asks. 

He traces your figure clad in nothing but your glasses and a soiled pair of panties; damp at the crotch from his attention and Wonwoo slips a finger under the hem to tease you that inch closure to depravity.

Wonwoo laves against the hickey on the inside of your thigh from a week ago, it’s yellowed and perfectly shaped like his mouth. It’s tender under his attention, even the gentle tracing on his nose forcing you to wince in discomfort. 

He coos, kissing it before skating back to the hem of your panties, lips vibrating against your skin. “Sorry I didn’t come earlier.”

Why he brings it up now is a mystery. Or the fact he brings it up at all. Life happens. You’ve blown him off more than once for a late night in the library; no hard feelings.

“It’s fine,” you sigh as he tugs the last scrap of fabric off your body and pushes your knees up to display you like a meal.

Spreading you apart, he lands a wet kiss at your entrance before teasing with the heat of his tongue. 

In a beg for sanity you twist a tight grip in his hair; a tangled mess from his drunk endeavors. Wonwoo pushes harder, drowns in your taste with enthusiasm as you moan and sigh. 

“F-fuck.”

He won’t ask if it’s good. He knows it is. Nearly four years of hook ups attunes him to your pleasure, a well rehearsed routine that has you both ache in the best way. 

You lose yourself in shaking breaths, feet planted to drive up into his mouth for more. He sucks your clit and nearly gets his head crushed by your thighs. It doesn’t take much and he knows it. 

You chant ‘gonna cum’ in choked groans that almost die at the edge of your teeth but Wonwoo hears and takes it as permission to pull out the stops, hand at your thing with a harsh grip and fingers sinking home.

He’s memorized all the signs of your want; the wrecked echo of your throat and the sounds he pulls from you a clear tell. He flattens his tongue, holding steady as grind straight into mindless bliss. Spit pools and drips and slips down onto the sheets. Wonwoo hums praise, unintelligible but you vaguely know it’s something that’d make you blush you could hear it over the pounding in your ears.

Back arching, your vision flares white at the edges and when Wonwoo realizes what's happening he makes it last until your fist ball up and you’re floating.

Wonwoo backs down as you twitch through the tail end, sloppy kisses to your clit that could knock into another fit if he isn’t careful. But even as you tremble the only thing you want is the weight of his cock in your mouth, or inside you. You aren’t picky as long as you get to feel him cum too.

You finally manage to pry Wonwoo from between your legs with an ankle to his ribs. You’re not done with him despite the fatigue hanging around your shoulders like dead weight. He angles over top of you for a kiss that tastes too much like pussy for your liking but it’s hot knowing he’s covered in you so you push until his shoulders meet the sheets and you can claim his lap.

His dick strains through his underwear, preening when you rock back into the heat. His nostrils flare when you grab for it, stiff enough to sink onto easily. 

“Oh god,” he groans, head digging back into the pillows to watch you like a goddess.

His fingers web across the tops of your thighs, a harsh grip keeping you flat as he grinds up into the wet heat of your pussy. You whimper and sigh for him; all the sounds he loves to hear. You squeeze your chest, taut nipples framed between the slants of your fingers to entice him until he reaches around and knocks you forward for the sole purpose of taking one in his mouth.

Your eyes roll back, jaw locked open, drowning in the stretch and the bite of his mouth and the hands squeezing your ass so hard it hurts. Wonwoo groans, throaty and desperate. “Gonna cum. Wanna cum in you. Holy shit.”

He gets you on your back. Too absorbed in his own end, he’s dead weight with his tongue between your lips and harsh thrusts that take him right to the edge. It gives that grit against your clit that means you’ll come too, soaked in cum and spit and sweat.

You wish he’d flip you on your front and fuck you with a hand between you shoulder blades and the other tangled in your hair. That’s the kind of fuck that’d leave you satisfied the entire weekend he’s busy but he’s running out of steam just doing this, picking up speed in his thrust, the clap of bodies filling the room.

Chanting his name like a broken record, ‘Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo’ breathy but loud enough your neighbors will leave another passive aggressive note on your door come morning, all you can think about is his cum. On you, in you. A sick part wants him to pull out and cum on your face – he hasn’t, not in a long time because priorities and responsibilities and you're usually lucky to have even five minutes alone before someone needs either of you. But you want it. God do you want it.

“Cum on my face,” you whimper. There’s drool on your lips and sweat in your hairline. Even if he doesn't, you'll need another shower anyway.

A strangled noise escapes from between his teeth at your neck. Then he’s driving forward so hard you burn; painfully so, mouth locked in a silent choke. Your orgasm rips through your insides, jagged at the edges where Wonwoo fucks himself into your guts. 

“Fuck yeah,” he grunts, pulling away and replacing the grip of your pussy with a tight fist as he straddles your chest. 

The taste of cock floods your tongue, heady and intoxicating. You get one, two drags against the stiff head and then he’s cumming, dripping his spend over your lips, then your cheek, then your glasses because he’s a sick freak. Even in the dim light from the window he twitches at the sight. You open your mouth and replace his hold, moaning as more comes to the surface. You swallow down as far as he’ll go which isn’t much in this position but it’s the thought that counts.

Wonwoo grinds to halt with an occasional kick of his hips that leaves you choking – rigid limbs locking in place until he melts with sticky satisfaction. 

He’s up and off, your glasses in hand for a thorough cleaning, not even bothering to flick on any of the lights but you hear the sink running in the bathroom before he comes padding back.

“God,” you whimper in disgust. “That’s so gross.”

“You’re the one who asked for it,” Wonwoo snorts, soft passes of a damp cloth on your skin focused on getting you clean enough to sleep.

“Because it’s hot but you aim for shit.”

Wonwoo tosses the rag somewhere, flopping down and pulling you close as possible with a kiss on your forehead. “Next time I’ll aim for your hair.”

“Bitch.”

The sound of music from upstairs pulses through your head as you drift off, Wonwoo asleep on your chest, fingers laced together on the sheets beside your indecipherably intertwined bodies.

Your week is divided into a simple pattern. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays you wake bright and early to attend Dr. Wagner’s chem lecture and then stay on campus attending every other class you could find to fill the gap between your evening shift at the library. Tuesdays and Thursdays are void of responsibility until your afternoon lab with the freshman near tears while learning basic titration for four hours, followed by office hours where said freshman finally come to actually cry about their grades. Those are the nights you, Chan, Wonwoo and a handful of other lab techs work on research that carries the same threat of waterworks. 

It’s there Dr. Wagner pulls you and Wonwoo aside.

“I know you both are applying to Dr. Collins lab for your PhD studies,” she starts. 

Her office reflects the same disarray as her personality; warm and lived in. Papers and exams are organized in chaos, thick stacks lining her desk waiting for you and Wonwoo to enter them into the online grade book. Books, some leather, some paperback, some the glossy cover of a textbook with cracked spines and yellowing pages are crammed into the bookshelves lining the walls until they threaten to collapse from the weight. It smells like coffee, plants, and the candle she always has burning. It’s a cozy hovel overlooking the rear courtyard of the science building that resembles the sterility of a hospital. 

Wonwoo occupies the other barrel chair with worn upholstery. You’ve barely seen him in the past three weeks, too busy with volunteering and working and classes while his own responsibilities keep him so exhausted it’s truly a miracle he’s even here. Dark stains ring his eyes beneath his glasses and he looks paler than usual. You’ll ask about it tonight when he comes over to work on your most recent stoichiometry project (which will be forgotten in favor of passing out during a movie while you play with his hair if history is anything to go by).

“I don’t think I’ve ever met two students who belong more in his lab,” she continues.

You try not to preen, but academic validation is a hell of a drug to caffeine addicted undergrads. Wonwoo perks up too. Three and a half years of barely being people for this moment and it’s finally in reach.

“However,” Dr. Wagner clasps her hands atop the dark wooden desk. “I’m writing only one recommendation this semester. It might seem unfair but I want to commit to the student that deserves it the most since my schedule doesn’t allow me much free time.”

It’s like being underwater. You hear her words but nothing registers, blinking rapidly in case this is a hallucination from falling asleep in the lab again.

“I know it might not be the news you hoped for but I know senior year is a lot, especially for students as involved as you all, and I thought this could alleviate some of the stress. You two are the only students I’m considering. So please, keep up the incredible work and we can talk again at the end of the semester when I have a more holistic evaluation of your progress.”

She stands to leave, snagging her purse and blowing out the candle with finality before abandoning the shit storm in your lap for whatever else she has to do on a Thursday night. Probably retell the events of the last five minutes to other professors in the department, laughing at the way you’ve turned purple from holding your breath.

“Have a good night you two! See you tomorrow!”

The office, once warm, feels hollow. You feel hollow. 

“What the fuck?” Wonwoo hasn’t moved either, glued to his seat as he stares at Dr. Wagner’s now vacant chair with his mouth wide in shock.

“Did that just happen?” you scoff in disbelief. “Is she serious?”

Wonwoo collapses over his knees with his hands scrubbing at his face like he also might be hallucinating. “I needed that recommendation.”

“Well, so do I,” you argue.

“I know. This is bullshit.”

“Did Changkyun say anything like this happened last year when she wrote one for him?”

“No, all three people who asked her got one.”

“Oh, so it’s just us she hates. Great!” you throw your hands up, sinking deeper in the chair. Maybe it’ll swallow you whole and the entire ordeal will cease to exist.

“She’s probably just trying to get in our heads so we don’t slack off this semester.”

“Have we ever slacked off any semester? I’ve been on the President’s Honor List since freshman year. You’ve been on the President’s Honor List since freshman year. We’re those people.”

Since starting college, since that one night during orientation where you and Wonwoo became a ‘we’. Not in the relationship sense, but in the way two lines merge. Same path, same goals, same classes, same PhD program prospects. There was plenty you two did separately but more you did together. Neither competing, but working together. 

But now that’s over.

Because only one of you can get into Dr. Collins lab, only one of you can get the recommendation, and only one of you can have what you both worked tirelessly for over the past three years.

“Listen—” you stand up and scrub at your own face. “It’ll be fine. We’ll figure it out.”

“We? Only one of us can get her recommendation. What’s there to figure out?”

Your face goes hot. He’s right. “Well, I need that recommendation.”

“So do I,” Wonwoo argues, eyes cold.

“Fine.”

That recommendation is mine.

“Fine!”

We’ll see about that.

Wonwoo stays in her office, flinching as you slam the door and flee.

The issue with fighting with Wonwoo is that as mad as both of you are, there are a million responsibilities you share that require close proximity.

Presently, it’s grading the last batch of exams. Seventy eight packets. And because Dr. Wagner doesn’t believe in convenience, it all has to be graded by the hand of two TAs running on nothing but caffeine and spite.

Which means it’s past midnight and the couch has a permanent impression of Wonwoo’s ass while you both silently fume and scratch through wrong answers with a heavy hand in red ink.

The weather reflects the atmosphere; pouring rain and thunder loud enough to shake the windows. The power has flickered in and out since the rain started but you're both too stubborn to call it quits – if there is nothing to keep you occupied then you might rip his throat out.

Wonwoo doesn’t even ask if you want more coffee before he snags your empty mug and moves to the kitchenette. You don’t look up when he sets it back down, and only grab it and take the first sip of perfectly steaming hot sweetness when he flops back on the couch without another word. 

Then the power goes out again, and doesn’t come back.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Using the flashlight on your phone, you search the drawers of your desk for candles. There nowhere to be found amongst the stacks of unopened sticky notes and tangled cords. 

Wonwoo shuffles behind you, papers landing on the coffee table completely abandoned. “We’ve been at this for hours. Let’s just go to sleep.”

“I have them in here somewhere,” you bite, another handful of chargers and a stapled you’ve never used and other things you didn’t even realize you own fill the drawer. You move to the second. “There’s only a few tests left.”

“We can do them tomorrow. It can wait.”

“No,” you spit like a curse.

Whatever Wonwoo was planning to say dies on his lips. “Fine.” 

His shirt lands over your head, you rip it off only to find him half naked in the dark, huddling under one of the throw blankets you keep on the back of the couch. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sleeping.”

“On the couch?” 

“Yep.”

“You’re too tall.”

“Well,” he draws like a pouty kid. “I don’t feel like sharing the bed with you.”

In a way it’s safer to argue about something trivial like this versus the entire reason you’ve iced each other out since that day in her office. Because at least like this, you won’t lose him. It’s stupid and petty but at least you’re speaking to each other; breaking through that wall of silence that’s been steadily growing more and more unnavigable as the inevitable draws nearer.

“Fine, then I’ll sleep on the couch and you take the bed.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. N. O.”

Fine.

It’s difficult to navigate in the dark. Your knees end up a victim to the edge of the coffee table and you trip over the edge of the rug, but you find the couch. Reaching down, you find his chest, then his shoulder. And once you’re sufficiently oriented you sit on him.

“Ow,” Wonwoo grunts as you flop down, elbow in his gut and his chin hitting your forehead. “What are you doing?”

You wedge in closer, slipping between his body and the cushions, bracing to kick him off by force if needed. “Sleeping.”

“Here?” he asks. Too aware of your plan, he turns as well, grabbing the back of the couch overhead to stay put.

“You’re too tall to sleep here.”

“And we’re both too big to sleep here together. Take the bed.”

“No,” you huff.

“No?”

“No. N.O. I believe you’re familiar with the word,” you spit.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“If you keep talking then neither of us will sleep.”

“Neither of us are gonna sleep anyway. You move too much to be comfortable like this.”

He’s right of course. Your hips already ache but if you move then he’ll find some way to pull you off. “I’m fine.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

You do the mature thing and bite him. 

The muscles corded around his pec twitch under your mouth as he flinches. “What the hell was that for?” 

You do it again.

“Stop.”

“Or what?” you ask, muffled in his skin as you move to leave another bite.

Wonwoo also does the mature thing and pins your wrists in one hand, maneuvering until you're sandwiched between the couch with his chest flat to your back.

“I can’t breathe like this,” you muffle into the cushions.

“Oh, how tragic.” You feel his words tickle the back of your neck rather than hear them. 

Wonwoo releases your wrists pinned to your stomach. His hand finds its way under your shirt, his shirt from some stupid frat fundraiser you’d been coerced into attending, flat to your belly with soothing circles. His calf hooks over your own to tangle your bodies together. He kisses the back of your neck, a simple brush of his lips that lingers.

It’s easier to feel everything in the dark. Your annoyance and frustration forged over the past weeks melts away and all that’s left is the need to have Wonwoo close. Just like this. Where there are no deadlines, or responsibilities. Where you both can drown in each others’ presence and everything else is washed away in the heavy drops pounding the windows outside.

Here, everything is uncomplicated.

The next rumble of thunder is loud enough to send you both in the air. Unfortunately, Wonwoo drags you backwards off the couch and to the floor. You land relatively unscathed but he knocks his elbow into the coffee table.

“Are you okay?”

Wonwoo groans and curses, cradling his elbow.

“Aw, tell the doctor where it hurts,” you coo, prodding his side.

He snatches your hand and pins it to his chest but not before lacing his fingers through your own. The gentle rise of and fall of breathing and the thud of his heart reverberates down your arm and straight into your own chest where something frozen softens. “Has anyone told you you’re annoying when you’re tired?”

“Yes. You. Lots of times.”

“Good. Wanna make sure you’re aware.”

Lighting turns everything white, a quick flash highlighting the room. There and gone and leaving you more disoriented than before. Rolling over, you hook a thigh over his lap which he welcomes, tugging you closer and absorbing the proximity like second nature. You’re a glutton for warmth –  Wonwoo’s warmth specifically – even in his sweater and his sweat shorts and his shirt, you still want more of him.

“We can’t sleep like this.”

You don’t want to move – laying like this, in the dark, nose dug into his chest as you twisting your fingers in his, squeezing and glowing pathetically when he squeezes back – all you want is to drown in him a little longer. Until you're forced to come up for breath.

But the sore spot between you two is still raw like a fresh bruise.

“Then sleep in the bed,” his lips drags over your knuckles as he speaks.

“No. You sleep in the bed, you’re too tall to sleep on the couch.”

“Fine.” Wonwoo jumps up from his place on the floor, grabbing your hands once again before dragging you around the coffee table towards the opposite side of the room. It’s ridiculously childish, especially in the dark where he bounces off the desk and the rug roughens the back of your legs.

He shimmies you around a corner and a cloud of laughter puffs between your lips. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sleeping in the bed, and you’re sleeping in the bed with me.”

“What if I don’t want to sleep next to you?”

“Then I’ll cry. Like that time we watched Steel Magnolias.”

“Have mercy,” you whimper.

“Then get your ass in bed.”

Deflating like a balloon, you stand. Wonwoo keeps his hands on you the entire time, guiding you down to the mattress and covering your body with his own just in case of an escape. He bunkers down in the safety of your neck, dragging your hands to his hair, mimicking the motions he craves until you take up the action and gently comb through the tangles.

A part of you wants to cry. Preemptively mourn the end of this – whatever this is. Late nights with Wonwoo, whispering in the dark about clueless underclassmen and annoying professors. Taking turns scrolling through adoptable cats at the local rescue. Cooing over them, rolling your eyes when Wonwoo finds Pixel still listed as available for adoption, a sign to him that he’s meant to have her except he lives in a frat house. Or the nights neither of you can sleep and take a trip to the local diner and tuck yourselves away in a corner booth to watch drunk people cling to consciousness over waffles and hash browns. 

There will be no more of that. Not by the time winter break comes. One of you is getting the gold ticket and the other will be up in the air with the hundreds of other people competing for the same handful of slots. And if one of you doesn't get in? 

“Was that so hard?” he whispers into your collar.

When you don’t answer, he looks up at. In the cast of lighting coming through the window he’s the same Wonwoo. The one you’ve been best friends with for years now. The one who is practically glued to your side whenever possible. 

The one who you’ll have to say goodbye to.

He meets your kiss lazily. Like he still thinks you have all the time in the world.

It makes the urge to cry that much worse.

The rain is gone by morning. 

The room glows from the orange light of the first minutes of sunrise. Sometime in the night you rolled to your side and Wonwoo pressed tight to your back. He’s awake, drawing shapes on your hip beneath the fabric of your shirt.

“Morning.” 

You hum and roll over to burrow in his chest, the crown of your head digging into his neck and away from the sun. “Morning.”

The warmth of his hands trace the curve of your back, pulling you closer; hiding his own discontent with such an early break in the tentative truce that only seems to exist in the late hours of night and earliest minutes of dawn. Days of sleep deprivation with nothing but sterile lighting in the lab leaves you both needy and vulnerable. So he hugs you tighter and sighs when you do the same.

He’s hard against your thigh. Clearly a result of biology more than need because he’s snoring against your hairline. Flashes of dreams rush forward – him beneath you, on top of you, behind you. It’s been weeks since you two last fucked. When you called him an idiot and he called you stubborn and next thing you were on the table with your legs spread for Wonwoo’s hand in a clumsy bump and grind while arguing about which one of you fucked up the biosensor callibration through gritted teeth and needy whimpers.

You’re wet. With his thigh pressed between your own the fact becomes more evident as the urge to curl into it nags.

Taking advantage of the exposed curve of skin beneath your mouth, you kiss and suck with lax intent until Wonwoo tips his chin up and gives a silent green light.

A heavy hand drags down his front, nails scratching bluntly through the fabric until it can slip beneath the waistband of his sweats and the curve of his cock sits pretty in your palm. Commando for convenience and comfort. More the latter because there’s no shot in hell he’s been getting laid lately.

His breath is sticky in his throat, vibrating beneath your teeth from thin pants as you work him through a loose fist. “Can I?”

“Yeah,” he huffs. “Yes.”

Slouching down, your head rests on his stomach, sweatpants bunched around his thighs. The first lick sends his hips up in search of more and you eagerly supply the soft suction of your mouth; lips catching around the flared head. A hand on the back of your skull keeps your hair from interfering as he plumps against your tongue. 

Eagerness fails to penetrate this moment slowed down by the greater need to drag this out. To savor every second because who knows when you’ll both stop being petty enough to just enjoy one another’s presence again.

“Might cum—fuck— don’t stop,” he grunts.

With the sun filling the room even more you’re running out of time, the warmth growing to leave sweat at the small of your back. He pushes harder into the curve of your throat and you let him, gagging wet with a lewd mix of spit and pre-cum that has you both moaning at the choked sound. Jaw slack, Wonwoo fucks your mouth with slow ruts; stomach tightening and the hand in your hair fisting tight enough you moan.

“Shit, babe—c-cumming,” he whines with a pathetic groan you’d make fun of him for later but all you can think about is the thick taste of cum and if there’s enough time for some attention between your own legs before life becomes unignorable. Not enough time for a real fuck but Wonwoo has a few tricks up his sleeve that promise satisfaction.

You bounce back down next to him and Wonwoo pounces, rolling on top of you, thing between your spread legs. He doesn’t shy away from your tongue against his teeth, dips a thumb beneath your chin and slips his tongue right along with it, sucks your lips until the swell, backing off only to bunch your shirt up. Lazy drags of his mouth on yours – not the ‘I need you’ kisses after a late night but the ‘I miss you’ ones after weeks of passive aggressive silence.

He licks down your front, goosebumps blooming from the draft as he sucks a nipple until you arch and twist a hand in his hair. You give a lax stretch and sigh while his hand slips beneath the edge of your panties.

Taking the morning for what it is, you fall into the motions until the blare of the alarm clock signals the beginning of the end.

You push away and swipe blindly at the night stand to make it stop but Wonwoo has other plans. 

He pins your hips down, tongue flat to the crotch of your underwear with a pant. “Ignore it.”

“What?” You look at him and find tired eyes watching back from over the edge of your wrinkled shirt. His hair is a mess, stuck to the side of his head from sleep and your eager hands and all you want to do is comb the tangles out while he pulls your strings like a puppet master.

But you can’t.

“We’ve got class,” you gasp through a hot kiss on your clit.

A groggy groan of, “skip,” vibrates on your skin.

Fingers curling in the sheets, you grasp for disagreement only to find a moan as he pulls your hips closer and works a finger where you need it most.

“We can’t.”

“We can,” Wonwoo grunts, focusing on peppering greedy kisses to the sensitive insides of your thighs. “We’ve been early every time this semester.”

The hand not curling in your guts runs down the back of your calf, bending until it hooks over his shoulder.

“Fuck, Wonu,” you whine over the crude sounds of his mouth. You want to. God, do you want to. But you open your eyes again and they land on the stack of exams on your desk. Ungraded. Because Wonwoo said you could do them this morning. And now he wants you to skip class despite how important it is. 

You close your legs only for Wonwoo to take it as a challenge, pinning your hips in place and celebrating his perceived victory with a throaty moan as he rocks against the bed.

“Stop.”

He pulls back, mouth wet and brows furrowed. “Huh?”

The alarm on your phone pings again. Swiftly silenced this time as you roll out from beneath him and land beside the mattress on unsteady feet. “We can’t skip. We have to give exams back.”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” he argues, flopping down into the warmth you left vacant.

The room is too bright, a clear sign your morning routine is behind. “You think now is the time to start slacking off?”

“It’s not slacking off.” Wonwoo snags his glasses. He looks more annoyed with them. “It’s a break. You clearly need one.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Just forget it. I’m not arguing with you about stupid shit.”

“And what's stupid shit? The job we signed up for? With the professor who controls our futures?”

Wonwoo fixes his pants and rolls out of bed. On the opposite side. As far away from you as possible. “Whatever.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

“Good!”

“Good!”

You slam the bathroom door shut with finality. When you come back out, any trace of Wonwoo is long gone.

There aren’t many people in class. A benefit of Halloweekend is the partying starts Wednesday and doesn’t stop until the following week. Even with last night's rain plenty of students are battling hangovers which leaves a third of the usual lecture attendance to witness you and Wonwoo go head to head while Dr. Wagner sits at home with a mysterious illness she announced in an email three minutes after nine AM.

The few that are there snag their papers, lips curled in disgust at the plethora of red ink spilled on white pages. Their own faults for not paying attention during lecture but maybe the scarlet gashes were a little dramatic. Wonwoo’s jaw is tight, pointedly ignoring you except to hand exams over that someone is waiting for with dread in their eyes. 

You could’ve skipped. It wouldn’t even count as skipping because class is canceled and there’s no award for hauling ass at the crack of dawn when your advisor isn’t even here to see it. You could be tucked away in your apartment with him under your skin; firmly in the place between dreams and waking where you liked him best, nothing but warm skin and rough hands with his lips on your hairline and your head burrowed in his chest. 

There are too many witnesses to just drop the act and wrap your arms around him from behind until he gives in. Apologize for the stupid shit he rightfully called you out on. But as your courage grows with each student’s exit, Wonwoo makes to leave before you can make use of it. 

Barely an hour of fighting and it already feels like an eternity.

“Hey,” you call.

He freezes by one of the desks near the back of the room, like he’s shocked you’re even there in the first place. But he doesn’t turn around; just tilts his head so you know he’s listening even if he doesn’t want to.

“Sorry about this morning. I-I think the stress is getting to me.”

And the fact that I can’t be mad at anyone besides the universe for this incredibly shitty situation. And I miss you. Even when you’re right next to me.

“Okay.”

“That’s it?” you fidget with the strap of your bag; a million pounds heavier even without the weight of ungraded tests that Wonwoo snatched before you could divide the remaining work.

He turns around, eying you with an exasperated look. “What else should I say? You called me a slack off and implied I don’t do my job.”

“I didn’t,” you argue but it’s salt in the wound because—

“You did.”

“But—”

“It’s fine. I’ll finish grading the exams over the weekend.”

And then you're alone.

You’re alone in the study room you both usually occupy to work on the Nanochemistry project due at the end of term. The shared document has updates, the blink of his cursor mocking your from wherever he hunkered down. Away from you. The temptation to type ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again disappears once he logs out barely a minute after you logged on.

You’re alone at the circulation desk of the library through your shift, head whipping around to every squeak and cough only to find someone who isn’t Wonwoo. There’s an email from him, to Dr. Wagner with you CC’ed, about class averages and exam questions that should be thrown out.

You walk home alone. Other students in various states of dress and intoxication crowd the sidewalks, a few you recognize but they feel a million miles away.

Alone in your apartment, the two mugs from last night clean in the sink.

The good part of being alone is when you start crying, no one is there to see.

It’s near midnight and the chill of the breeze whipping down the street bites at your exposed skin. Already the should-be-condemned frat house pulses with life, the promise of a long night ahead thrumming through the symphony of drunk screams and music.

It’s not unusual for you to attend frat parties. Wonwoo’s favor guarantees free booze and a perch at the top of the staircase where underclassmen are barred from entering. But you’ll settle for watching drunk underclassman stumbling over the front lawn from one of the couches on the front porch (which are so broken in, no one sinks into the cushions – they just fall straight down until the worn springs catch them) because the inside of the house is too hot, and too crowded, and far too loud. 

A hail Mary apology is the only thing on your mind. Yesterday had been the nastiest spat in recent history between you two; notwithstanding sophomore year when Jeonghan asked you for tutoring and Wonwoo insisted on helping. “Helping” meant cutting off every question Jeonghan dared ask with a series of snorts and huffs until you left and refused to talk to him for a week.

He’d apologized in the most Wonwoo fashion – completing your Thermodynamics assignments for the rest of the semester and before going down on you until you threatened to kick him in the head through sensitive sobs.

Wonwoo is here – somewhere. Shuffling up the past, past the line of eager party goers looking for a way in, you scan the front porch, he’s not in his usual waiting spot to whisk you upstairs where the older members hang out with better drinks and better music. Not that he would be. He doesn’t even know you considered coming to this.

Instead, poor Chan, dressed in yellow and black stripes, mans the door with pilot Jihoon by his side.

“Jihoon,” you greet, before looking at the younger man. “Speed bump.”

Chan mumbles something under his breath but lays on the ground regardless. When Wonwoo went through the same hazing you only got a few chances to enjoy the ridiculousness before he dragged you upstairs and shut you up himself.

“Can you not torment the kids?” Jihoon grunts.

“I could. But, where’s the fun in that?” 

“Your boyfriend is inside. If you see Jun, tell him it’s his turn to watch the door.”

“Got it.”

Stepping over the underclassman still laying on the ground, you head inside and straight for the packed kitchen to get a drink. There’s barely any space between the hoard of bodies, forcing you to shuffle forward everytime there's a gap in the crowd; but it’s more like swimming against a rip tide. 

It’s difficult to see with nothing but a few strobe lights and some strings of Christmas lights to clear the dark. One glance up towards the upper landing of the staircase is all it takes to find him right next to Mingyu. Matching costume, two bean poles standing out from the crowd of shorter men. Mingyu makes a brief nod in your direction but before you can see Wonwoo turn you’re off into the kitchen.

It’s an even tighter fit in here. A pledge pours drinks from a cooler, for a brief second you’re tempted to indulge. The last time you did, freshman year, you ended up crying in Wonwoo’s room mid-hookup. You scan the slim pickings and settle on an unopened beer. The shots you took while getting ready are already catching up.

Forced between anxious isolation and drinking, a few of your friends come up and briefly make conversation. You feign interest, eying over their heads for a familiar mop of dark hair without success.

A few guys stop to compliment your costume. They give themselves away in glazed heavily lidded stares, single minded focus on your legs. They ask what your major is, boast their status as pledges to your disinterested grimace, and move on when you finally put them out of their misery and fib about your “boyfriend” being “president or something” but “I don’t pay attention to those things,” and they all disappear significantly paler than when they first appeared.

You bite the bullet of your pride and turn to leave, only to find Wonwoo barely an inch away.

His eyes burn over your figure, the short toga covering just enough for you to avoid public indecency. Good. It’s the entire reason you wore this stupid costume in the first place. He’s a horny loser for nerdy shit and this is the best thing you could’ve worn other than one of those video game character costumes forcing your boobs in your throat and leaving you at serious risk for public indecency.

It’s not the first time you’ve wrapped yourself in barely enough fabric to constitute an outfit for the sake of his forgiveness and it probably won’t be the last.

Wonwoo pins you to the counter with his hips, hands bracketing your figure on either side. The green hat with an ‘L’ is lopsided on his head but at least he didn’t wear the fake mustache. “So, what is your costume?” he hums into the space just below your ear with a kiss.

“Guess.” You tilt your chin, cocky.

“And if I get it right?” he asks, lips at your ear.

Heart pound, you ditch the beer and reach for his hips with purpose. “Whatever you want.”

“Dangerous words.”

“Think of it as my apology for being a huge bitch yesterday.” 

He sighs into your neck, arms tight around your waist in a loose semblance of a hug. It’s a farce. Your ass meets the counter with minor effort and Wonwoo claims the space between your legs before you can pretend to object.

He still hasn’t kissed you.

You want more than kisses. You want to feel him, all of him. Want to drag him to the living room serving as a makeshift dance floor and sink into the heat of his body pressed flat against your own for everyone to see. You want to pull him into that closet off the main hall, familiar from that hot night of freshman year when a drunk make out turned into a timid fingering and eventually Wonwoo handing over his first time on a silver platter. Or even run back to your apartment, pluck through the leftover Halloween candy you bought on discount and watch whatever horror movie has become his recent obsession. You just want him.

“Mingyu thought you were Socrates.”

Pressed this close on the sticky counter, his body is the only thing protecting what little of your dignity is left. Even then, there's enough of the slippery warmth of alcohol to tempt you into rutting against him right here for those stupid pledges to see. “Mingyu is an idiot.”

“Clearly,” he chuckles. “The rubber chicken gave it away.”

You shake it at eye level. “Behold, man.”

“Lame,” his kissing gets bold down the shaft of your neck, teeth scraping your collarbone.

“Oh please, I feel your boner.”

He doesn’t resist you when you nuzzle along the bare parts of his neck, a tease of soft kissing usually reserved for quiet moments tucked away in your apartment. Even in the chaos of the party, body heat turning the air uncomfortably warm, you crave more of his closeness. 

His hands feel nice on your legs. None of the timid gentleness of years prior when he’d touch you like it’d burn if he wanted it too much; trailing higher and higher but never under the short hem of the bedsheet turned dress. His fingers flex into the muscle at the outside of your thigh, hook behind your knees and drag you to the edge of the counter. 

You're sweating through your own skin when he kisses you. 

The need in your gut blooms at full force. Your mouth loosens, welcoming his tongue and teeth and whatever else he’s generous enough to give while you tug at the loose fabric around his hips to force more close proximity; the zipper of his pants is hot against your core and if you fucked him right here it wouldn’t look that different than the PG-13 make out happening right now. 

“Wanna show me your room?” You blink like some moony eyed freshman, glassy, pupils blown from vivid images of all the possibilities in the solitude upstairs. Wonwoo is fine with the game of whatever your apology entails even if it means you throw cheesy lines like that.

He ushers you off the counter, flat to your back as he pushes through the crowd with you ahead. Even in a drunken haze people part out of his way because of the mastery of resting bitch face only he seems to have despite the complaint putty that lies behind it. A private smile splits your lips. He can’t be that mad. Not with how he pulls you closer, in the protective way he so often does in the buzz of a single minded crowd with more alcohol in their veins than blood. 

Mingyu is standing on the landing. Girls in scraps of fabric eye him up and down, even in his stupid costume with the mustache but he ignores them in favor of pouting straight into a red cup.

“Why is your boyfriend moping?” 

“Fuck if I know.” Wonwoo focuses on sucking another bruise on your neck like no one's watching. 

You’re loose enough not to care about Mingyu’s annoyance as Wonwoo ushers you by. “Cheer up buttercup, I’m sure there’s a Peach here into charity fucks!” 

It’s meant to be encouraging, but Mingyu looks like he’s torn between strangling you and throwing himself over the banister.

Maybe you did lie about being Wonwoo’s girlfriend, but he is president and his room is the biggest and furthest away from chaos. Up on the top floor where the music isn’t as loud and the only people on this floor are other members and their guests for the night.

Wonwoo pushes you inside, kicking the door shut loud enough you wince before crowding you against the wood. You throw his hat away somewhere into the darkness, hand twisted in his hair as he kisses you. Sloppy and gross until he rocks into the softness of your stomach, gasoline on the flame.

“Turn around.”

He barely gives you enough space to do so, pressing you flat once again, cheek squished to the door and a rough pull at your waist. 

“If you’re thinking about touching my asshole, don’t. I have shit to do tomorrow,” you warn. 

On the other side of the door you hear footsteps but they pass by without stopping.

“Noted, but not what I’m going for,” he jokes. 

Your skirt flips up and a draft against the damp crotch of your panties sends a tremor straight through your core. “Share with the class.”

“It’s a surprise.”

“I’m shaking in my toga.”

“And you call me a loser.”

“I can call you some other things,” you grit, pushing back into the heat of his covered cock. “They aren’t as nice though.”

“Yeah, yeah. Take your panties off.” 

He’s a little bit of a freak. Sometimes he enjoys fucking you in nothing but your underwear and others he wants you in everything but. Maybe because of how this entire thing started; when you wouldn’t even take your bra off and he survived on the barest flash of nipple.

The flimsy soiled fabric barely passes your knees before he’s on you again, easily tempted by the arch of your spine. You hum content as he presses a finger into your cunt, then two. His other hand forces the neckline of your dress down and lo-and-behold your lack of bra delights like you knew it would.

Whatever bright idea that fluttered in Wonwoo’s brain is forgotten as he spins you back around for an eyeful of naked skin; a mouthful of your chest and your leg hooked around his hip for a pathetic dry hump into the heel of his hand.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan with extra emphasis and a caved stomach because there’s teeth and he makes it hurt. “Kiss me.”

Another rut into your thigh and his teeth are back at your bottom lip. It’s not exactly what you anticipated when you showed up tonight but there are far worse places than having a doorknob in your back while Wonwoo leaves a hickey below your ear; a perfectly good bed ten feet away but neither of you can be bothered to move much more than forcing Wonwoo’s pants down enough his cock leaks in your grip, head nestled at your entrance.

You surprise him by sinking to your knees. Head tipped back against the door, you tilt your mouth open to welcome him on your tongue. Wonwoo stares down at you; tits out, hand between your legs as you suck his cock in quick motions until he takes over and fucks into the curve of your throat. 

“Holy s-shit,” he hisses and you flatten your tongue to help him along. It feels good; seeing him reduced to so little just from the wet suck of your mouth on him. 

A choked gag forces Wonwoo back into his body, hips curving away so you can swallow air before leaving a sloppy kiss on the tip. Seizing him in a tight grip, you use the spit to jerk him off until he cringes with another pathetic moan. 

Someone giggles in the hallway, close enough you both hear. They’re far enough away you can still whisper to Wonwoo. “Remember that time we fucked in here last year?” 

“When you almost got us killed?”

Last year, at the same party, when you showed up in a skin tight Shego costume, Wonwoo pulled you to the only available room: Seungcheol’s. It’d been hot. Fucking when you aren’t supposed to, having Seungcheol pound at the door while Wonwoo came down your throat (no condoms and no hope to clean up).

“Do it again.”

His hand creeps into a loose collar around the base of your throat. You keep rubbing between your legs, working up a slick slide until your nails dig into the skin of his thighs.

“Really?” There’s no need for muffling the noise when it's his room and the only people at risk of hearing anything have done far worse. He pulls you to your feet, forces your cheek against the door and slides right behind you. Like he was made for you.

“Choke me,” you gasp before digging into the sick part of your brain that likes seeing him strung out, extra breathy just to see his eyes go wide. “Sir.”

Your skin sticks to the door, shamefully squeezed as he drags his cock through the mess of your pussy. “You can’t just say that.”

“Why not?”

“Because—”

“Because what?” you goad. “Gonna punish me?”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? Show up wearing this,” he grits, tugging at the white fabric bunched around your waist, using the hand on your throat to squeeze your cheeks tight with authority you drool for.  “Asking to be choked and now you probably want me to spank you and call you a good girl.”

You grunt through the raw thrust at your gut, sending your head back from sheer enthusiasm. “N–not my fault you fuck me so good.” 

Wonwoo almost can’t control himself, hearing nothing but praise fall from your mouth as he fucks you limp against the door. “God.”

Someone screams, “Leave room for Jesus!” from the other side of the door and you almost rip it open to kill them if Wonwoo wasn’t dragging you to the bed. 

He folds you onto your front, both standing at the foot of the bed. A deep roll of his hips and you’re filled completely. 

“O-oh, fuck me,” you moan, uncaring if the idiot outside the door is still listening. Wonwoo has a hell of a hand and puts it to use against the curve of your ass. The coil in your gut pulls taunt as he delivers one after another.

He fucks deeper, a the hand not burn against your bottom between your shoulders. “You look so good— ah —taking my cock like this.” His voice waivers with the same stunted rhythm of his hips. 

“W-want,” you choke on spit, drooling into the comforter. “Wanna taste you.”

The animalist need to suck both your flavors off his cock nearly sends you into a fit but Wonwoo’s there, hooking his hand back around the front of your neck with a subtle squeeze. You want the stupid dress off, you want Wonwoo’s clothes off, you want to fuck him where there’s no one around to catcall in the hallway like twelve year old boys. Want. Want. Want.

What you get is enough pressure from his fingers that your mind blanks. Wonwoo gets a tight enough squeeze on his cock that he’s forced to a grinding halt. 

Then his rhythm goes deeper, harder. Course curls against the resistance of your ass until you almost collapse against the edge of the bed. His cock hits that spot like it was made for your body. “Touch yourself.”

You comply without further command. You’re wet, soaked, arousal smeared down your thighs from Wonwoo’s treatment. Your fingers bump against his length as you match the pace of his strokes. “Fuck, Wonwoo — hmmm.” 

“Tell me how it feels,” he gasps like it’s his first breath in hours.

“Wet, so wet,” you croon, arching harder, joints locking. “Gonna cum. Oh my god.”

He reaches low, grabbing your hand from between your thighs and pulling it to his mouth for a taste. His tongue slides between your digits, liquid slick with a soft suction your crave on your clit. 

“Beg for it.” Wonwoo bites your shoulder hard enough you cry. 

Stuffing your hand back between your legs, you play with your clit clumsily. Until pink crowds the edge of your vision and it hurts. “Please, please! I need—Want it. Wanna come for you. Please, sir.”

Wonwoo strains to hear your pleas over the clap of bodies. He’s worked you near the middle of the bed, practically laying on top of you as he fucks in quick succession. 

“Harder, fuck me,” you demand. “Yes, yes, y–yes!”

If you were on top you’d fall straight off, jerking tightly under Wonwoo’s weight, turning your face to greet his tongue between your teeth and mewling sensitivity. He doesn’t show mercy, continuing to fuck you through the worst of it.

“Holy shit,” you whimper, head throbbing. Wonwoo forces you back on your knees and you fight through sore muscles and sensitivity to preen under the weight behind his hips. 

“Can I come in you?” he asks in a shivery breath.

You nod with closed eyes, tugging the hand around your throat to your lips and sucking his fingers like it’s a cock. He finishes with a choked breath, flooding your insides with sticky warmth you’ve never gotten used to in all the months you’ve fucked without condoms. 

His breath fans against the nape of your neck, another swivel of his hips from the sensitivity. Your walls squeeze as Wonwoo pulls away. 

You roll onto your back with a bounce, Wonwoo jostling you when he joins. Shoulder to shoulder, you stare up at the ceiling while catching your breath. “Do you think you’ll pop a boner when your students call you a sir next year?”

Wonwoo heaves a long breath, amusement in his voice. “I come inside you and that's the first thing you think of?”

Immediately you regret the joke. Since Dr. Wagner’s announcement weeks ago neither of you had broached on the topic of what happens after graduation. Mostly from fear. But also because it’s a long discussion you’re not exactly sure what you want out of.

“Answer the question.”

“I hope not.”

The bed shifts beneath your knees as you crowd over Wonwoo, laying with his arms behind him to keep from sinking flat. The tired lines of his face look deeper in the lamp light. He’s nothing more than a big softie that wants to cuddle half naked in his bed while you play with his hair until sleep finds its place.

“It’s our last Halloween party.”

“Wow, just like old times,” you snort. “Should I start crying? Then it’ll be just like freshman year all over.”

Wonwoo laughs, his hand snatching yours and lacing your fingers together. “You wore a bra and bunny ears freshman year so if you’re gonna whip that out too – by all means.”

“God, we were so lame,” you announce matter of factly. Crying in lingerie and animal ears in one of the supply closets downstairs all because—

“Don’t rope me into that, miss ‘crying-because-she-didn’t-know-how-to-suck-dick’.” Wonwoo rolls on top of you, hoping to silence whatever argument bubbling in response with a teasing press of his lips. You're still sticky with sweat and spit and cum, nipples and pussy out and the thought of his dick, limp against your thigh, makes you sensitive all over.

“That’s former miss ‘crying-because-she-didn’t-know-how-to-suck-dick’,” you trail off into his mouth. “And you’re one to talk. Remember the time you cried about how happy you were that we were friends.”

He bites your lip in retaliation. “I didn’t.”

“You did. I have the video from Mingyu.”

“I thought he was an idiot.”

“He is but he’s good for blackmail.”

You might consider staying the night if he keeps tracing his nose along the arch of your collarbone. But a shrill giggle and some pornographic moans ring through the walls of the neighboring room. Not the side Seungkwan occupies. Hoshi’s. And it’s only the start.

“We can’t sleep here.”

Wonwoo collapses, tugging you with him. “I can’t ditch again, I’m on pledge duty.”

“You’re hiding in your room with me.”

“Okay, technically I’m on pledge duty.”

He wouldn’t stay here if he wasn’t required. Wonwoo hates party nights, especially Halloween. Too many variables requiring all hands on deck; too many needy people demanding his presence for some issue that could’ve been handled if they used their brain to think farther than the tip of their nose. Rarely, if ever, does he sleep in his own bed when you have a perfectly good one tucked away in a private apartment without thirty other men tripping over each other. 

“Well, I’m not sleeping with that.” On cue, another whimper, clearly a man’s, breaks through the tentative silence. Are they fuck against the shared wall?

Wonwoo sighs, scrubbing his face before moving for his phone. “I’ll send one of the kids to walk you.”

“Wow, a pledge escort. How thoughtful,” you sneer.

He huffs again, unwilling to start a fight that’ll leave neither of you satisfied. “Text me when you get home.”

You don’t.

There is an unspoken habit between you and Wonwoo that Sunday mornings are spent at the only reasonably priced coffee shop just near your apartment. A charming hole in the wall, with hanging shelves displaying layers of tchotchkes, paintings lining whatever free space between them, and wobbly tables with equally unbalanced chairs. It’s always packed because the coffee is decent and they have outlets. After last night, you hope he’s too exhausted to even think about showing up.

Mugs click against dark lacquered tables, the dull murmur of conversation churns over the music swelling softly through the speakers. The smell of pastries and espresso wake you enough to slide into a vacant table in the corner and set to work. 

Or you would’ve if someone didn’t sit down first.

“Oh.”

Wonwoo already has a mug and a little brown bag as he looks up at where you stand dumbly.

“I can just go…sit somewhere else…” You turn to leave, except there are no other tables. Couples and groups claim every single seat except the one across from Wonwoo.

“Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know, probably because I’m mad at you.”

He unpacks his laptop, shaking his head. “You’re not mad at me.”

“Yes, I am,” you emphasize. 

“You’re a bad liar.”

Neither of you are good at lying. Even worse at fighting. Incapable of committing to real anger when it takes all your energy to stand up straight and not fall asleep in a pile of ungraded papers and half finished assignments. Besides, you're only pouting because he passed up a night at your place to clean up pledge vomit. 

You can’t tame the annoyed grin cracking your face.  “Fine, I’m not that mad at you. Buy my forgiveness in the form of coffee.”

“Too much caffeine will kill you.”

“I can only hope,” you sigh, arms cradling your head against the hard wood of the table while he joins the queue at the register.

Wonwoo orders your drink and a cheesy pastry the size of your head, the smell of greasy carbs first thing in the morning softening the ice in your veins. He knows your weaknesses too well. 

“Is this penance?” 

“Something like that.” He tears the crispiest corner off and pops it into his mouth.

“Did you look at the study guide for Calc yet?”

Two hours later you approach the counter for a second round of coffee and snag one of the jammy tarts Wonwoo likes but rarely buys for himself. Whatever chaffs between you two melts under the constant stream of note checking; Wonwoo’s hand on your knee under the table helps too. 

“If I look at this anymore, I’ll run into traffic.”

“We’ve got the Nano project that needs some work,” you suggest. 

He stretches wide, a sliver of skin visible between the hem of his sweater and the band of sweat pants. “I’ve got practice in an hour. We can do it tonight when I’m done.”

You try not to stare and instead return to focusing on the screen of your laptop burning your retinas.“I’m tutoring Seungkwan.”

“After?”

“He’s gonna be a bitch and the last thing I wanna do is look at more school stuff.”

“Then no school stuff,” he decrees with finality. “I’ll bring mushroom pad thai from that place on Market.”

“Are you trying to bribe your way in?”

“Is it working?”

You hum a dismissal but watch him through your lashes. He looks good – washed in late afternoon glow, hair a mess with glasses and a sweater that hangs off his shoulders. It all screams ‘drag me to bed and nap the rest of the day’ which is trouble for you because you still want to be mad at him if only to see how fair he’s willing to go for your forgiveness.

“We can watch Yellowjackets,” he barters, packing his bag.

Another group eyes your table with hope to claim it the second it’s available. Sadly, your ass is firmly planted for the rest of the afternoon. With or without Wonwoo.

“You’re really trying to butter me up, aren’t you?”

“I cannot sleep in that house,” he deadpans. “Please take mercy.”

“Oh, so you’re just using me for a place to sleep. Even after I wore that stupid Halloween costume?”

He pauses, eyes glazing like it’s a distant memory and not less than twenty four hours ago. “You looked hot.”

“You made that pretty clear.”

“Anyway, I’ll come over after practice. You can bitch about Seungkwan until you pass out.”

“Fine, but if there is no pad thai then don’t come.”

“Whatever my woman demands,” he snorts, dropping a kiss to your lips before turning towards the door.

Two hours and another coffee later, Seungkwan occupies Wonwoo’s abandoned chair. There’s no reason for him to be taking an intro chem class as a Creative Writing major other than the fact he’s a bit of a masochist. He’s not half bad at it and doesn’t really need any tutoring but you get paid for showing up even if it’s complete silence as you pick your nails until he needs something.

You’re marking through his latest attempt when he finally speaks up, “You're dating Wonwoo, right?”

Red pen scratches through the edge of the paper. “What?”

“You and Wonwoo.”

What is the absolute configuration of the two carbon atoms in this compound? More red ink.

“What about me and Wonwoo?”

Seungkwan rolls his eyes with exasperation, like you’re on the outs of some obvious joke. “Dating.”

If an alkene has 24 hydrogen atoms, how many carbon atoms does it contain? Another X.

“No.”

“Oh, I thought—”

“We’re just friends.”

When 10 g of 90% pure lime stone is heated completely, the volume (in litres) of is liberated at STP is… Wrong, again. Which makes no sense because Seungkwan is good at this level. He’s fucking with you on purpose.

“Huh,” he comments, grabbing the worksheet back from your claws.

“‘Huh’ what?”

“I heard a rumor he had a girlfriend last night, that’s all.”

It's not the first time someone assumed there's more between you and Wonwoo then there actually is, your fib last night clearly fanned the flames of even more speculation. But neither of you date; not enough time, willpower, or patience to entertain someone around packed schedules. If you and Wonwoo didn’t have the same life within the chemistry department then you’d never see each other. It’s convenient as it can possibly be. 

Maybe at one point there was. Summer of sophomore year when he studied abroad in Spain and the usual substance of correspondence morphed from memes and jokes to something softer; I miss you’s and you’d like it here’s. Late night phone calls that lasted hours, refusing to hang up first until one of you fell asleep and the other finally canceled the call. 

But the opportunity to tip over the edge came and went without coalescing into whatever was on the other side. 

Seungkwan can pretend it’s an innocent suggestion but he stares you down until you crack with your own curiosity. “Who told you that?”

“Some pledges said they accidentally hit on his girlfriend. I don't even think he knows another girl beside you. Plus you were at the party last night.”

Stupid fuckers, you mutter under your breath. “We’re not dating.”

“But you guys are always together.”

“We work together. You and Vernon are always together, are you two fucking?”

“My room is next to his and it doesn’t sound like work to me.”

“How does me failing you sound?” you spit. 

Seungkwan doesn't so much as flinch at the threat but returns to the practice sheet with a smile nonetheless. 

Typically, fall break is spent hidden away in a pile of blankets with you and Wonwoo alternating movie choices throughout the weekend. Dead Poets Society (him), When Harry Met Sally (you), Over the Garden Wall (him), Fantastic Mr Fox (you), and so on and so on.

This year, you have a strong feeling Dr. Wagner’s favorite pastime is seeing her TAs squirm. It’s the only explanation for the unique brand of humiliation she subjects you and Wonwoo to. Tonight, Friday and technically your first night off for the long weekend, she decides to engage in a new sort of torture. A fancy dinner that neither of you could ever hope to afford, and even as her treat, you still eye the menu prices nervously. 

But Dr. Collins sits across the table, in the flesh, so you pull out the skills you learned in the ridiculous theater class you took freshman year to “diversify” your transcript and smile through the anxiety. 

Wonwoo does a little better; in a button up you’ve only seen him wear a handful of times when his usual wardrobe is sweatshirts and free shirts from campus events, he looks more comfortable than you feel.

“Jill, tells me you both work on Epitranscriptomic mapping in her lab?” Dr. Collins asks after another sip of his drink. Two whiskeys at dinner. 

It’s not an official interview. Not anything close to it, according to your advisor. Nothing is set in stone, even if Dr. Collins laughs at Wonwoo’s awkward jokes and nods enthusiastically to your stories about working in the library (he also worked in the library in undergrad, but used it to nap more than actually work). But it feels like a step in the right direction. 

“Yes, sir.” Wonwoo and you nod in tandem.

Dr. Wagner’s research focuses on how different RNA modifications vary across various cell types and states. It’s high level stuff that no one but Wonwoo understands when you rant about the broken Cellraft machine. And his complaints about NovaSec’s constant crashes that leave him without work fall on deaf ears except when they’re directed at you. 

Half the reason you two started speaking during orientation is because the overly enthusiastic intern asked what people were looking forward to the most during school. You and Wonwoo were the only ones who seemed to think she meant school-related and not where to buy a fake ID. Apparently, the best person to get a fake ID from was a junior in Dr. Wagner’s lab that year. Go figure.

“I’ve seen you two listed down the line as co-authors,” he nods. 

The waiter brings dessert, spiced toffee cakes and ice cream. You’re starving but the knot in your stomach from when you sat down is even tighter and all you can do is pick at the plate.

“Well, Y/N does a lot of the troubleshooting for the RNA degradation issues,” Wonwoo shares. 

Your face heats at the unexpected but not undeserved compliment. Dr. Wagner’s work isn’t cheap and the thought of wasting valuable money, money that could line the pocket of an extra set of hands, forced you to run a tight ship. The other researchers in her lab could say what they wanted behind your back but Dr. Wagner nods with fondness and you try not to preen.

“We’d be a mess if it wasn’t for her,” Dr. Wagner agrees. “The lab techs should write her a card.”

Not wanting to leave him out, you shoot a look to your left where Wonwoo pulls at the napkin in his lap. “Wonwoo is the one that made sure the parameters made sense for the last publication.”

“Also true.” Dr. Wagner smiles. “I told you, Harry, they’re my best students. Excel a mile past my TAs last year. They work together exceptionally well. If I could keep them both for next year, I would.” She says it with finality. There might very well be an opportunity to stay here and continue in her lab, even if your ambition has outgrown the place you’ve called home for four years.

The table is cleared, your plate full of mashed cake and melted ice cream with not a single bite missing. You’re exhausted. Mentally, emotionally; physically from the three all nighters you’ve pulled this week. There’d be an earful from Wonwoo about the dangers of sleep deprivation (hypocrite) but he looks like he’s seen a ghost tonight and won’t sleep himself.

Dr. Collins glances at his watch with a muffled yawn, “My, my! Look at the time! My apologies I didn't mean to keep us all out so late. I know you two probably have far more interesting things to be doing than spending the evening with a couple old timers like us.” He winks at Dr. Wagner, who rolls her eyes and hands the check back to the waiter who can’t be more than nineteen. “It looks like I’ll have some tough decisions to make in the upcoming weeks. Best of luck to the both of you.”

Hands shakes all around, and an awkward shuffle at the door and Dr. Collins and Dr. Wagner disappear into the night, leaving you and Wonwoo alone on the long walk back to campus.

You don’t beeline to your apartment for a debrief. Or even to ignore the obvious awkwardness cracking between. A bench to the side of the campus green is where you find yourselves, across from the fountain that upholds the tradition of drunken seniors taking a dip during finals when they’ve given up. 

You want to drown in it.

“Wonwoo,” you whisper. “What happens if one of us doesn't get in?”

“I–I don’t know.” He peers down at you with what you think is grief and the white noise that follows his quiet admission chokes painfully. There’s no plan B for something like this

If you got in, then Wonwoo did too. An unfounded assumption that wherever you went he’d be there too, based on almost four years of something between you. Too much to be friendship but too scared to call it something else. Something more. All the stereotypical college firsts had been with him or witnessed by him, you assumed grad school would be the same.

But it can’t be.

“Then we should end this.”

The words are out like shaken champagne, a dramatic explosion you can’t take back; a mess in the slimmest inches of space between your bodies on the bench in the freezing air.

“What?” he says.

You can’t swallow back down the idea. Wonwoo won’t let you. Maybe you don’t want to. You stare at the fountain across the green with a twitch in your jaw. 

“One of us is gonna move to Boston and the other is gonna have to figure it out and I’d rather not hate you or you hate me when it happens.”

You won’t take it back but you won’t look at him either. 

“You think I’d hate you?” 

He’s staring at you. You can feel the burn of his gaze on your cheek where embarrassment heats as well.

“I would.” You ignore the break in your voice at the complete lie. “I’d hate it if you got in and I didn’t. Even though you deserve it and I couldn’t be mad about it. I’d hate it. All I’ve wanted since freshman year is to go there, and I won’t ruin it for you just because I can’t have it.”

For a painstaking moment, he doesn’t say anything. His shoulders are still rigid and he props his weight into his knees, head bowed so you can’t even see his face in the stark street light. He doesn’t do anything until you do, until you slump with utter defeat.

“Fine.”

“Fine?” Your voice pinches in your throat.

“What else is there? You’ve already decided for the both of us. That stupid fucking program matters more to you than—”

You heat close to explosion.“It’s not stu—”

Wonwoo rushes off the bench. “It is! It is because we’ve been dating for the past three years but you won’t even fucking admit it! You’ll tell some stupid pledge I’m your boyfriend but everytime I think we’ve worked it out – that you’re finally ready to talk about it – you pretend nothing is happening.”

“That wasn’t—” you shake your head.

“It’s fine. I’ll get over it.” 

You move quicker than he does and find his hand, but he doesn’t want to stay and you can’t stop him from leaving. “Wonwoo.” 

“Stop.” His voice is stoic, whatever emotions previously controlling him locked up tight behind faux dismissal. “Just…stop.” 

If you’re going to lie then the smallest favor you can do is obey his command. You hide your face in your hands, cheeks hot and eyes stinging. Because if you look at him then you’ll break into a million pieces. You’d admit to lying to his face; that you could so much as entertain the idea of hating him.

Wonwoo waits but you say nothing. No argument, no final comment. 

When you finally look up he’s far enough down the sidewalk that the pathetic croak of his name is unheard.

Endpoint: a critical moment in a chemical process where a specific change indicates that the reaction is complete. 

Two days later, when you finally get the balls to call Wonwoo and apologize, to tell him he’s right and that you’re an absolute idiot, he’s already blocked your number.

In a game of passive aggressive pettiness, Wonwoo takes gold.

He won’t talk to you outside of class and lab hours. Even then, he refuses to look at you; talks straight around you. Any form of correspondence you receive has Dr. Wagner’s name attached and anything you send without it is loudly ignored. 

Other people notice too.

In study hours, the students notice, whisper to each other when Wonwoo snubs your attempt to discuss a batch of graded homework in favor of focusing his attention on a cowering freshman who looks like he might piss himself when Wonwoo calls him by name. All the others bury their heads in their textbooks in fear he’ll pick them next.

In Nano, when he shows up just in the nick of time to leave his self-assigned seat next to you empty, and instead sitting next to the door. You feel the eyes on you, hair standing on end at the back of your neck when Dr. Lim stutters through his intro with wide eyes at the scene.

Seungkwan shows up to tutoring significantly less interested in your love life. Or he pretends he isn’t. He doesn’t ask outright and there’s pity in his eyes, thick enough you want to burst into the tears you’ve waited to come for the past two weeks. Instead you feel hollow. 

Even Mr. Lee, the night guard at the library, eyes your solitary exit with something like concern. Even going so far as to call campus public safety to escort you the short walk home.

Your other friends try to take you out, get your mind off the tilt in your world axis. You go. Sit at bar tables and laugh when you're supposed to, make empty conversations with strangers but you don’t care. You want to go home and curl up in your own misery like a blanket and cry until your eyes swell shut and pass out from exhaustion. Eventually, they stop asking if you want to come and just leave ice cream and bottles of wine on your doormat as support.

Your grades don’t suffer, and that’s the only thing you can cling to right now.

In Dr. Wagner’s office, an impromptu meeting under the guise of setting final exam expectations and tinkering the schedule, Wonwoo continues the harsh coldness of silence; content to pretend you don’t even exist. 

You work through it easily enough. You and Wonwoo have the same finals so there's only two schedules (Dr. Wagner’s and your shared one) to coordinate for extra study hours. The entire ordeal takes ten minutes to complete the shared calendar, pack it full of final lab meetings and deadlines for grading.

And when it’s over, you move to rise but Dr. Wagner stops you short.

She looks sheepish which is an odd sight. Immediately, you go to the worst. You grit and swallow and sit back down in the same upholstered chair from the last time she dropped a bomb in your lap. 

This is the bandaid rip you’ve waited for all semester. Whatever is at the end of this meeting means you finally know if you’re good enough or not. If karma does justice and gives Wonwoo the spot in Dr. Collins lab next year because you committed the sin of wanting it too much, sacrificed too much.

“It seems my attempt at friendly competition had some…unintended consequences.”

Where sizzling anger would once flourish and bloom, nothing but empty exhaust stutters to life. “What?”

“Last year, the second my TAs found out I’d recommended them, they slacked off. Missing class, incorrect results in the lab. Now I know you two are hard workers but I was afraid senioritis might set in and I’d have to lay down the law. I don’t like being harsh with my students, not directly anyway. I want the best out of them, and I knew I could anticipate the best from you two. I was always planning to recommend both of you to Dr. Collins. I told him he would regret it if he even thought about not making space for you both next year.”

“What?” you repeat again.

There’s a weight on your knee. You don’t even need to look to know it’s Wonwoo’s hand. He doesn’t look before flipping it over when you place yours on top, fingers knotting together; holds it tight like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go. You unconsciously squeeze and he mimics without thought.

“So what does this mean?”

“Dr. Collins can’t outright say it but he’s on the admissions board and decides who gets to join his lab. He was adamant that both of you join him in Boston.”

“But we haven’t even—”

“I know, but the application is a formality at this point.” She waves a dismissive hand. “Your work speaks for itself.”

Wonwoo is still there, clenching your hand for dear life. Waiting for the other shoe to drop because there is no way – no way – it’s this easy. Months at each other's throat from the tension and for nothing. You’re sweaty, heart thumping loud enough it might break from your chest and skitter on Dr. Wagner’s desk. She keeps talking and you still haven’t looked at Wonwoo.

“I’m so proud of you both!” she beams. “And I’m sorry if I’ve…complicated things…for the two of you. It was never my intention. Now, go! Rest! Take the day off and celebrate. Send me the links to your applications and I’ll do my part so you can finally relax before finals.”

The pair of you shuffle outside like zombies. In broad daylight, the world keeps spinning and someone drops their coffee a little further down the street and curses a storm; a car honks at a biker, there's packs of students shuffling around where you stand dumbfounded. Your sweater does little to block the chill of late November wind.

Wonwoo still hasn’t let go of your hand.

“Did that just happen?” he asks.

“What the fuck.”

“What the fuck.”

Your laughing, deranged and fatigued cackles that earn several looks but on the cusps of finals it’s not uncommon enough to stop anyone out of concern. “What the fuck!”

You’re not sure what to do. Celebrate? Cry? 

It’s a little bit of both as Wonwoo swoops in, wrapping his arms around you tight enough to squeeze a surprised scream from your lungs. He’s not done, lifting and spinning you around in a quick circle before crying, “What the fuck!”

You laugh, snorting ugly cackles as he almost drops you with both of you gasping for breath. Completely deranged but what just happened that the rift between you momentarily heals.

Wonwoo sets you down gently but keeps close, his hands your waist like he’s afraid to let go. Like he’s missed you just as much as you’ve missed him. You finally look at him, and it’s the first breath of air after drowning for hours. The creases around his eye, the happy wrinkles around his nose. His hair is long enough it brushes your skin where your foreheads almost touch. His hold is like a cocoon of warmth.

“I’m sorry!” you blurt. “I’m so fucking sorry. I’m stupid and stubborn and I’ve been so caught up in this program that I—”

“No,” he shakes his head, arms tightening as you squirm in his hold.

“Let me finish.”

“No,” he says. “I like that you're stubborn and a pain in the ass. And it wasn’t fair that I expected you to just push aside something like grad school for me. I was being selfish and—”

“I love you.”

You might say it again just to see the way he chokes and turns purple; pulls you closer. He’s at a loss for words and you capitalize on the moment.

“I’ve thought about what would happen if I didn’t get in, like a million different possibilities and never once were you not there. I felt like…I don’t know, honestly. Like I was losing you and it was easier to be upset about the program than admit that. It was stupid and I’m stupid, and I’m really bad at speeches so…feel free to shut me up or whatever.”

You wait for him to process what you’ve said – a million emotions swiping across his face. Ridiculous some people act like he’s the embodiment of stoicism because if you know what to look for then they’d realize he’s terrible at hiding the way he feels.

“You love me?”

All that crying you did in the past few weeks means nothing because you could cry right now. But you don’t look away, you don’t ever want to look away from him again because you’d miss the way his face softens.

“Well, we’ve been dating for the past three years. It’s about time I told you.”

Wonwoo doesn’t speak, facing morphing into confusion before he scoffs with disbelief. “You’re so annoying.”

“Hey!” you stomp but Wonwoo pulls you closer, buries his face in your neck and squeezes so tight something feels on the verge of popping in your spine. His ears burn red as he whispers those three words back quietly enough you strain to hear them. He bites your shoulder just to be an asshole.

“What the hell was that for?” 

He does it again.

“Stop biting me you freak, we’re in public.” You pinch his side for good measure and only then does he smash the side of his face to yours and begin walking you backwards, in the direction of your apartment.

“Whatever, you love me.”

He lets you walk normally at the cross walk, your hand in his, both tangled in the warmth of the pocket of his sweatshirt because it’s fucking cold and the wind isn’t helping. Wonwoo drags you straight home, up the stairs, and crowds you against the door and kisses you until you can’t breathe.

“Why are you crying?”

You are. You don’t even realize it had started until you reach up and feel the dampness on your cheeks.

“Probably because I haven’t slept in two days and I missed you, idiot.” Wonwoo kisses you flat on the mouth again at the confession, smiling big enough it’s less of a kiss and more of teeth pressed together. But it’s good. You like it. You speak into his mouth, “I promise I would have really ‘sloppy I love you sex’ but I’m so tired I think I might throw up.”

“You missed me.” he hums, more of a statement than a question.

“Yeah, big head, I missed you. Now let’s sleep.”

“God,” he moans, biting his lip in mock pleasure. Maybe even real pleasure at the idea of a Friday afternoon full of nothing but hazy dreams in silence rarely found in a frat house. “I love you too.”

You undress straight down to your underwear. Cotton with a conservative cut because in no universe did you think you’d end the day with Wonwoo back in your orbit. Wonwoo who loves you, Wonwoo who you love back. But he eyes you like you’re a grand prize and all he wants is to touch you. But the rush of adrenaline keeping you conscious is burning out quickly.

He strips too, nothing but boxers and circles under his eyes but he’s happy. It radiates off him in waves and if you weren’t part of it, you’d throw something at him because it’d be annoying. You might just be glowing too.

You slip under the covers and Wonwoo snuggles up behind you, a second skin with his hand flat to your stomach to keep you from going anywhere. Not that you would. You don’t even remember falling asleep. 

When you wake up, it’s dark outside; which could mean it’s been minutes or hours since the winter sun likes to deep beneath the horizon early in the afternoon. It’s the best sleep you’ve had in weeks.

Everything is warm; your body beneath the comforter, where sweat sticks at your back, the lips dragging across the curve of your neck, Wonwoo’s crotch firm between your legs.

“Good morning to me,” you sigh.

He hums in happy agreement, tongue traces the shell of your ear before kissing across your cheek and chin and finally landing on your mouth with a kiss that can only be described as sappy.

“Got started without me?” Your hands press under his underwear, two palms full of his ass holding him still enough to grind up into. Something about a sleepy make out has you hungry to lay there and take whatever he’ll offer.

“I’ll catch you up, don’t worry.” 

You snicker, “No wonder those freshmen have crushes on you.”

“What do you mean?” He traces your naked sides with his fingers.

“I’ll catch you up,” you mock, then wince from a razor of his teeth as he shifts down your chest. “If you were my TA, I’d try to fuck you.”

“I’m trying to have’ sloppy I love you sex’ and you’re trying to goad me into some student teacher shit?”

He bites your side, just a nip but you flare and blush anyway. “Ooooo, tell me I’m bad.”

“You’re annoying.”

“You love me.”

“As I was saying,” he whispers into your stomach, fingers tugging your panties off. “Sloppy I love you sex.”

“Okay, okay.” You sink a hand in his hair only for him to tug it away, fingers laced together over your sternum as he strokes you to life. “O-oh, that’s—fuck.”

He hikes a leg up over his shoulder, out of the way for the fingers that satisfy the empty squeeze in your gut. Your tongue prickles with another goad but Wonwoo senses it first and swiftly works to silence you with a hot kiss to your clit that makes your vision bleed red.

The cold of the room works in his favor, pinching your nipples tight until you cave to the need to touch yourself. If the light was on then he’d watch and you get the urge to pause the action just for the chance to watch him watch you.

“Don’t stop,” you grunt. 

He eats it filthy, spit and arousal forming a wet mess slipping down your ass. The way his tongue lashes is nothing short of despicable and you know you’re the one that taught him that and you can’t help but flare with pride. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m—” you chant blindly.

The warmth between your legs surrounds, suffocates until your thighs go numb and your shoulders pull away from the mattress with a groan rivaling porn; but you mean it. Wonwoo means it too. 

You clench harder, revitalized in the stretch of another finger and a clip of teeth on your clit.  You tug at your still clasped hands on your chest, bite into the meat of his palm and let the flood consume you with stiff legs and tears in your eyes. “Oh, Wonwoo – u-ugh. Fuck. Fuck.”

Wonwoo takes it, mouth waiting for every eager roll of your hips; completely unphased until you melt back in the sheets with a pathetic mewl.

He kisses up your body, mouth and cheeks wet and warm. When he reaches your mouth you resist the urge to lick him clean. Something about that feels decidedly unlike sloppy I love you sex. So you slip your tongue between his lips instead and spread your legs until his crotch is level with the raw sensitivity of your own.

“Roll over,” you pant.

Like an asshole, he laughs. And then he drops his weight behind his hips and you actually see stars. “Wanna do it like this.”

“Make love to me,” you croon.

He doesn’t even pretend to stifle the obnoxious snort. “Don’t ever say that again.”

“What happened to sloppy I love you sex?” 

“Getting to it. You like it when I come inside you?” Now he’s the one goading and you’re blushing like you’ve never fucked him before. To be fair, you haven’t fucked him as the man you’re in love with so it’s a first time for the both of you. Wonwoo’s drunk on the power of having you stutter through something so familiar yet new.

“Love it.” 

“Good,” he agrees with a saccharine peck to your nose that makes you feel like a doe eyed virgin again. “I love you.”

Your need for games and pretense dissolves. You just want Wonwoo, all of him, until you can’t take it any more. 

Wonwoo senses the change, noses against your cheek before kissing you. He’s still holding your hand, the other cupping your jaw, thumb tracing the curve of flesh. It’s vulnerable and soft and something you probably could’ve experienced years ago if you weren’t willfully blind.

“I love you, too.”

You whisper the confession so quietly it doesn’t even make a sound but Wonwoo figures it out because he surges into action, pulling you to the center of the mattress in all your naked glory. The flood light from the side of the building reflects back in through the slats in the blinds and Wonwoo sits up to soak in what he can see in the limited light.

Twisting a hand in his hair, you pull him down for a kiss; forcing all the emotions you have to the surface. He doesn’t make you wait. Instead, he drops flat, flat together from head to toe as he slips inside. You’re still tight and sensitive, squirming at the feeling of being stretched so thin with Wonwoo wrapped tight in your arms.

“W-wonwoo,” you mewl. You know he loves the sound of his name, any time, in desperate moans and sleepy coos. You’ll say it as much as he wants to hear if he kisses you like he is now – with something new at the edge. Something needy. “More.”

He wraps your legs around his hips, folding you clean in half with a heavy rut into your pussy you’ll feel for days. You both want to drag this out – take hours to come apart and come together again and again – but Wonwoo is already working a hand between your bodies; stroking you over hot coals just to hear you moan his name again.

In record speed, you feel that familiar burn creeping along your spine. He fucks you into a wet mess and it’s all you can do to hold on and claw up his back. Breaks you into something limp and pliant, hands twisted together over head; tugs at that loose thread over and over until you unravel beneath him and Wonwoo watches like it’s magic.

“Oh- oh, Wonwoo–” you cry. Actually cry. Tears he swipes away with a thumb before pressing his mouth to yours.

You’re swollen and stiff, muscles taunt while they twitch from a rush of complete bliss.

“M cumming, baby – oh my god.” Wonwoo bucks into the tight squeeze of your legs, deeper, harder, more. “Love you—fuck.”

He hides with soft sighs in your neck, skin sticky where you both slide together. You cradle him to your chest, fingers rushing through the sweaty tangles on his hair gently. A kiss to his head, his brow, his nose that wrinkles from pure content.

But you’re not done yet.

You wiggle from beneath him, peeling yourself off the pillows, lower half still numb from one hell of an orgasm. But you want more, insatiable and doped on years of repressed fondness. “Can you go again?” 

Wonwoo looks like you asked him to run a marathon. “You want me to die?”

“Worse ways to go,” you coo, sinking low enough to take his cock in your mouth. It tastes like you and him and it makes your eyes roll.

“God. I didn’t know sappy sex meant you’d try to kill me,” he moans airly under your ministrations, a hand at the back of your head when you show off with a nose to his crotch before sliding off. “You’re evil.”

“I’m in love with a sexy nerd and I'm horny,” you sigh dreamily, thrilled with the way he pulses in your hold.

“Yeah, well…” he gives up on whatever rebuttal under the weight of your body on top of his. Nothing he can argue with in that statement anyway so you tease him with a kiss, smile when he chases your mouth, roll when you realize he can taste the mix of you both off your tongue.

“You know…I’ll need a roommate in Boston.”

“Huh,” Wonwoo feigns. His focus is on the way your tug at his cock, spit and cum webbed between your fingers. This isn’t the best way to have this conversation but you’re both high on sleep deprivation, love, and orgasms and it encourages loose lips.

“Know anyone interested?”

He shudders back into the pillow, leaving his neck open for your teeth with a choked, “Yeah.”

“Who?”

“Me.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah —fuck—wanna wake up to you every morning.”

“Even if I’m a cranky bitch?” Your knees bracket his hips, cunt split on his cock as you grind against the underside.

His stomach caves as he responds with a thin voice, “yeah.”

You like waking up to him too. Falling asleep with him tangled in your body, listening to him hum in the shower when he thinks you aren’t listening. Sometimes he even sings with a little encouragement like those times you were sick and the only thing that got your mind from exploding like thunderclaps was the lullabies from his childhood that he cooed into your hairline.

Starting and ending everyday with Wonwoo sounds nothing short of blissful.

“Okay.” You tangle his fingers with your own, rising on your knees to distract from the sheepish smile splitting your face in two.

“Really?”

“I like having you around,” you admit, sinking down on his cock. “Makes me feel better.”

Weird conversation over the back track of slapping skin and pathetic muffled sobs but you like it. Feels well overdue.

“A-about?”

Everything.

He gives a tender squeeze to your thigh, cradles your face in both hands, eye contact that you fight not shutter away from because it’s terrifying he can see you clearly. 

He’s lost; completely mesmerized by the way you bounce on the length of him, grind back into his lap like you’re possessed.

“Can’t last—” he chokes.

“S’okay,” you press the words into his cheek, his jaw, the bones jutting from around his collar. “Just wanna feel you.”

You bend and strain for his pleasure, to watch it dance across his brow as he cums inside you again, his hands heavy on your ass, your thighs, whatever he reflexively grips in a bid for grounding, nails leaving streaks of color. Twitching and jerking in sensitive painful bliss, his eyes roll back with a quick exhale. “Fuck-k.”

You're sticky and used between the legs but you take comfort in the feeling and bask in the glow on top of him. Nothing but a pile of satisfied boneless goo where you lay with sweaty skin and heat you feel from the top of your head to your toes. “Good?”

“Great,” he hums, pulling into one last toe numbing kiss. 

When feeling returns to your bodies, you spend the rest of the night eating greasy pizza on the couch in nothing but his shirt, drinking wine straight from the bottle in celebration. You kiss Wonwoo whenever you want, which, admittedly, is a lot; a flurry of sappy pecks over his face leaves him blushing and dewy. When you fall asleep after making love once again, the last thing you hear is him saying he loves you too.

Epilogue

4 months later…

There’s a certain level of comfort that comes with receiving an official acceptance email. The words you’ve been waiting to hear since Dr. Wagner all but confirmed your future in a fifteen minute meeting last semester.

On behalf of the Chemistry department, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted as a part of…

The big envelope in the mail today helped too.

Wonwoo sends a photo of his, unopened, because you promised to open them together tonight. On your date; which is nothing more than grading assignments and eating leftover take out on the couch like so many nights have been spent already. But this time he’s your boyfriend. And after all the worksheets are graded, and you get to cuddle deep into the worn couch cushions, you get to tell him you love him and he’ll say it back and the flutter in your veins at the thought is nothing short of magical. 

And this time you have a surprise waiting for him and he might just cry. Or you hope so. You’ve got $50 riding on the possibility.

You’re sweating through your shirt from putting the new piece of furniture together for the past three hours by the time he shows up with a bag of takeout, Thai food from the place on Market where they know you by order, and a kiss you’ve been missing since the morning when he left for one of his stupid workouts. 

Wonwoo sets the bag on the counter, immediately pulling you into his arms before sagging like a deflated balloon. “Pixel got adopted today.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He’s moping. He accepts your placating kiss with a pout, and starts unpacking the food.

You feel the smallest flutter of guilt but it's worth it.  “That sucks.” 

“She needed a good home.” Wonwoo confirms and that's the end of the conversation.

Even in your final semester, your schedules are still packed. Crammed full with meetings, exams, work, Wonwoo’s volleyball stuff that you attend with posters and sit near the other girlfriends. It’s weird but not because its the same stuff you two were doing for years. But it’s exhausting.

So you don’t blame Wonwoo for not noticing the newest addition to your apartment until he’s inhaled his food and the last third of yours.

“Babe.”

“What?” you ask, focusing on cutting another red slash into the white paper.

“What’s that?”

He points at the gigantic cat tower in the corner next to the couch. It’s cramped in tight but in two months you’ll both be in Boston with a bigger apartment with real bedrooms so it’s only temporary.

You shrug and make another mark. “Oh, just something I picked up.”

“You don’t have a cat.”

“Huh. Weird.” Your eyebrows furrow in mock confusion but you keep grading papers or else it’s game over and the need to watch him puzzle together your plans is all you want. “Then what’s the thing in the bathroom?”

“You didn’t.”

“I did,” you confirm.

Wonwoo stares open mouthed, between you and the bathroom door and back to you. He might pinch himself but he flies off the couch with childlike eagerness and your face hurts from smiling already.

Pixel spends the rest of the night curled up asleep on her new dad’s lap and you’re $50 richer. Mingyu’s girlfriend is already offering to catsit despite Mingyu’s pouts about losing money.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

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[bellatrixobsessed1]

Meteor Shower (Part 19)

They are the talk of the school.

They usually are.

And she has to admit that her craving for the spotlight is rekindling.

She thinks that she is growing into herself, into this new life rather nicely. 

It fits her well. 

She can make music again and she can do it with poise, comfort, and confidence. 

Without fear. 

Without restrictions. 

Without some asshole telling her how to sing and how to look while she sings. 

Truth be told, she hadn’t expected one silly talent show to lead to small gigs at local bars and underground venues. She hadn’t realized that one silly talent show would turn the Trix into a real band. 

She certainly hadn’t realized that one silly talent show would have the Trix featured in a Magix news segment. 

“Look at us!” Stormy is practically leaping up and down as she points to the screen. “And we’re only freshmen! Can you name any other freshmen who have made it to the top of the Cloud Tower food chain!?”

“I think that we’ve gone a bit above just the Cloud Tower food chain.” Darcy remarks. 

“We’re…we’re a pretty big hit. At least within our niche.” Icy replies. Is it intimidating? A bit, yes. She truly didn’t think that the Trix would get this far. There is a small whisper that comes from the very back of her mind that tells her that she is making a mistake and that this is just another opportunity for some grand and spectacular failure. And that if the Trix do become the year’s most impressive disappointment, that she won’t be able to recover her dignity this time. 

She had already done it once, her luck has to run out some time. That voice whispers to her that if things fall apart this time around then people will learn all about Kyanite and she will be doubly humiliated. Unsalvageable so. 

That whisper sounds so, so much like Valtor. 

She shakes her head and turns her attention back to the television screen. But that story has already ended and the news anchor takes them to another story. 

Another story with another familiar face. 

Icy’s frigid heart sinks. 

“And while three dark stars rise, another falls. Astridella Callabelle, best known for her time with MeTor as Diamond had recently released her new album, ‘This Is Astridella’ last week. The album had taken off, exciting fans across the magical universe. Callabelle had been getting ready for her very first tour as a solo artist. She had been speaking with fans, expressing gratitude…” the screen cuts to a clip from one of her several interviews. She is all glitter and smiles. She blows kisses at fans between promises of lots of new music and shows to come. “The twenty-four year old was found dead in her apartment early last night. Leaving friends and family devastated.”

“She was such a good girl.” The woman on the screen cries. The same woman who used to bring treats backstage for them to enjoy. “She had such a bright future.” Of course a mother would say that. But in this case, Icy can’t disagree. Diamond had been doing well for herself. Much better than she had been faring since her departure from MeTor. 

“I can’t believe this.” Topaz says to a different interviewer. 

“We, like, just talked to her yesterday.” Goldstone adds. She frowns. “I should have known that something was wrong. She was talking all weird. And she…” She pauses. “I don’t know, she started getting these surgeries.”

“It wasn’t like her.” Topaz adds.

Chalcedony has trouble speaking. But between hiccups, Icy swears that she hears, “we already lost Kya.” 

She hadn’t realized that they still thought of her. Hadn’t realized that they cared enough to cry for her. She can’t imagine that they had mourned her like they are about to mourn Diamond who they supported and loved so dearly. 

“We’re gonna miss you Diamond.” Ruby says. She clings to Chalcedony. 

And then Icy hears the voice that makes her cold blood run hot. “It’s a damn shame.” Makes her blood absolutely boil. “She had such a promising career. A true star, brighter than any other that I have worked with.” Valtor shakes his head. “She had been having a bit of a rough time lately.” He speaks as though he isn’t the rough time that she was having. “It was a tragedy enough to lose Kyanite. That poor girl didn’t have a chance. But Diamond…”

The newscaster doesn’t delve into the details. 

But Icy knows. 

Icy knows that it was him. 

He had killed Diamond. 

Rather he had gotten her to do it herself. 

She waits for the delight to settle in, the satisfaction that Diamond, who had resented her for getting so cozy with Valtor, has met a fate similar to her own. She waits for the feeling of triumph that she had pulled through when Diamond had not. That she, timid little Kyanite, had been the stronger of the two of them. 

But all she feels is cold. Cold, frigid hatred. 

In just a few days, she knows that Valtor will have a new girl. 

And that girl will have her own news segment. 

She only wonders what will lead to it; will it be the coerced surgeries, the drugs, the body image issues, or the subtle—or maybe not so subtle sexual advances. Maybe it will be a combination of all of these things, just the way it had been for her. 

No matter how it goes down, there will be another new segment. 

There will be another Kyanite. Another Diamond. 

“Ugg, the pop industry is so…” Darcy trails off. “And they say that witches are cruel.”

“Witches are cruel.” Icy shrugs. 

And Valtor will see precisely how cruel they are.

He will see Kyanite again.

Poor Kyanite

And poor Kyanite, who didn’t have a chance, won’t give him one.

.oOo.

“Hey,” The whisper is very close. Right in her ear. “You should probably wake up now.” It isn’t as though she has any choice; the music is already starting. Stormy’s choice, for certain. She can try to roll over and cover her ears but Stormy has picked the fastest song on her psychobilly mixtape and put it on at full volume. She imagines that they will be getting a disgruntled call from the hotel staff at any time.

“Fuck off, Stormy.” But through the grumbly slur of sleepiness not entirely shaken off, it comes out as more of a “fuuugoffstomy.” It is a pointless thing to say knowing that she has already been decently roused from sleep.

“Well I don’t know what that means so I’m not gonna do it.” Stormy declares. 

Icy is certain that if she opens her eyes, the first thing that she will see is Stormy’s face, just inches from hers, entirely filling the view. She is probably laying on her side with on hand on her hip and the other propping her head up. 

This isn’t the first time that Stormy has woken her like this. 

But the other witch is right, she should probably get a start on her day.

“What time is it?” She asks as she sits up. She rubs her eyes.

“It’s like three PM.” Darcy comments from the other side of the hotel room. 

“Three PM!? You guys let me sleep that long? Fuck! I had shit to do!”

“You had a long night.” Darcy shrugs. 

Icy grimaces as she recalls that night. Mostly she can do so with a degree of pride; they had, afterall managed to pull off one of their best shows of their career, in spite of withdrawals and a near disbandment. Even so, she still feels terribly ridiculous for having gotten so emotional about it. Be it Darcy and Stormy or one of the Winx, she is still waiting for someone to bring it up. But they let her be and she can’t tell if it is out of respect or fear.

“Anyways, I already looked at the calendar. We have two days off before our next show.” 

“How many do we have left?” Stormy asks. 

“Three.” Darcy looks up from whatever she is sketching. “Two more in Dyamond and then a final show in Magix.” 

“Perhaps we can go back to Stormy’s planet…”

“We’ve already committed to playing three shows here since we’ve been avoiding playing in Dyamond up until now.” Darcy replies. “At any rate, we’ve already played around with the schedule so much this tour.” 

She half expects the woman to tell her to stop being so sensitive. Instead she adds, “everybody was impressed with our work here, you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“The more I perform here, the more chances people will have to put two and two together.”

“And?” Darcy turns from her drawing that is definitely a crow pecking the eyeball from a partially decayed body. “So what if they do?”

“We’re already co-headlining with faeries, they can’t be too surprised to find out that we’ve been touring with a former fairy this whole time.”

Icy gives a slight grimace. But she has only said the truth. The truth has this nasty habit of making her very uncomfortable. 

“They’d look pretty silly and also super fake and really superficial if they suddenly decided to stop liking your music over it.” Bloom comments. “Good afternoon Darcy and Stormy and good morning Icy.” 

“Me waking up at noon doesn’t change the time of day specifically for me.”

“But I thought that the universe revolves around you!” Bloom declares. 

“It does.” Icy agrees. “Why did you two leave the door unlocked?”

“Specifically so that Bloom can torment you.” Darcy replies. “Take that as payback for being a pain in the ass this whole tour.” She dips her quill into a red inkwell and brings it back to the sketchpad. 

“I wasn’t the one blasting deathrock music over shitty pop tunes…”

“Neither was I.” Darcy replies. “Take that up with Stormy, Stella, and Musa. “Have fun with Bloom.” She pauses. “And try not to think too much about last night. Geez, you ruminate on things way too much.”

“What Darcy is trying to say is that she’s worried about you and she doesn’t want you to overthink things.” Bloom replies. 

“What Darcy is trying to say is exactly what Darcy said.” Darcy mutters as she slashes her quill across the sketchpad. 

“But she’s not very good at phrasing things.” 

“Icy isn’t delicate, she doesn’t need sugarcoating. Doesn’t want it either.” Darcy rolls her eyes.

Bloom smirks and Icy realizes that, that is exactly what the fairy was trying to get her to say. “Peters you’re…unsettling sometimes.” Icy mutters. 

Bloom flashes her a pseudo sweet smile, “I don’t know what you mean! Anyways so where are you going to be taking me today?” 

“Huh?” 

“Darcy gave us a lot of tours of her realm, so did Stormy. It’s your turn now.”

“Darcy is clearly in the middle of something. Stormy just got into the shower. Are your friends even ready?”

“Well. No.” Bloom replies. “Aw shucks, it looks like it’ll just be the two of us.”

“You aren’t really going to leave me alone with this idiot are you?” She offers Darcy an almost pleading look.

“I am.” Darcy doesn’t look up from her art. “As I said earlier, have fun with Bloom. Bring me back one of those popsicles, the spider shaped one.” 

And so Icy finds herself walking down familiar streets. Streets that she hasn’t walked down in ages. Streets that she use to walk down while trading gossip with Diamond and compliments with Goldstone. Her stomach flutters. It is the same route she used to take from school to home when she still wore that little penguin keychain on the belt loop of her skirt. When she still carried an armful of glittery blue notebooks and still wrote with glittery blue gel pens. That one fence post still has geometric patterns painted on it although that paint is faded and chipping and partially hidden by overgrown winterroots. 

“What kind of plants are those? I’ve never seen them before.” Bloom comments. 

“There are lots of plants that are unique to Dyamond that most people have never seen. You should see the bejeweled bark trees…” She realizes too late that she has made the wrong choice of words. 

“Then show them to me!”

Icy sighs. “Fine.” But only because she is too tired to argue with the woman today. 

Bloom grabs her hand and pulls her along. 

“Are you feeling better now that you’ve had your first show back here?”

“Not particularly.” Icy replies as Bloom leads her around a corner. 

“Why not? Everything went very well. It went better than well. The crowd loved you guys.”

“I guess…”

Bloom comes to a halt. “You guess?” She takes Icy by the shoulders. “What happened to, ‘the Trix is the best band in the magical dimension! You loser faeries don’t have a chance!’ What happened to…?”

Icy sighs. “Look, Bloom…”

Bloom begins walking again. “This place really is getting to you, huh?”

Or maybe it is simply wearing away at the walls she has built around herself, peeling away illusions, falsehoods, and fake bravados. Lies. She is all kinds of fake—a fake witch with fake confidence and a fake life. 

“Did you even hear yourself singing? It was amazing. I’ve never heard anything like it!”

“That’s the problem, Bloom. I have a very recognizable—”

“I mean that I’ve never heard anything like it. Not even from MeTor shower.” She pauses. “I mean I guess that the resemblance is pretty obvious, but only when you know that you’re supposed to be looking for it. And nobody knows to look for it.” She shrugs. “And besides, do you know how many singers sound a like. Stella gets accused of sounding like Diaspro all the time. Which is really offensive because Diaspro sings kind of like…like…

“The noise the that shower knobs in old apartments make when you twist them really slowly.” Icy fills in.

“I was going to say, ‘kind of like not very good’ but yeah, that’s about right.”  Bloom admits. She stalls on the sidewalk corner where it opens out into a four way intersection.

“Where to next, Peters?” Icy asks and it finally dawns upon the fairy that there had been a little flaw in her attempting to pull Icy along. 

“How long were you going to let me do that for?”

“Do what for?”

“Wander around aimlessly like an idiot.”

“That’s no different from how you usually walk around.” Icy replies. 

“Hours.” Bloom concludes. “You were going to let me drag you around town for hours.”

“Not true, I have other things to be doing.”

“Like what? Getting into Stormy’s rockabilly music. I didn’t realize that you enjoyed it so much.”

“This way, Peters.” She takes Bloom back the way that they had just come from.

“Really!? You let me take us in the exact opposite direction!”

“Very observant.”

“Anyways, as I was saying. The performance went well and nobody is going to recognize you by your voice alone. The Trix’s music is so different from MeTor’s. And you’re so different, as a person, from Kyanite.”

But sometimes she doesn’t think so.

Most of the time these days. 

Icy had been confident and self assured. 

Kyanite had been timid and uncertain. 

And the more she dwells upon it the more her confidence dwindles. The more she feels as though she is slipping back to the person that she used to be. And the more that she reverts the more she dwells upon it, creating something of a cycle. 

“Would it really be so bad to…”

“Yes!” 

“Kyanite wasn’t a loser.” 

“Bloom.” 

“No.” Bloom says. “You’re going to hear me out. Kyanite was…you were so talented.” The tickles work their way back into Icy’s stomach. “You had so much worth and you didn’t even realize it and then Valtor swooped in and exploited that.”

“Which is exactly why it would be so bad to go back to that.”

“You realize that you can have it both ways, right? You can be confident and cool and entertainingly but annoyingly sarcastic and also be…” for one blissful moment she shuts her mouth as she tries to find the right word, “gentle at the same time.” 

“And how would you say that would work? Humor me.”

“Very naturally.” Bloom says with a confident nod. “You’re witty and witchy because that’s the real you and I know that at least some of that confidence is real. Probably most of it, actually.” She pauses. “But you’re also kind of soft spoken and nice to talk to when you want to be and you do this dorky thing where you like to over explain musical terms and correct my grammar.”

“It isn’t…that’s not dorky!” She stammers. “It’s called having a scrap of intelligence, unlike that which wider society possesses.” She realizes too late that she is not helping her own case. 

“It is so! And that’s also the real you. You’re already both. All you have to do is drop the whole denial thing.” 

“I’m not…” Oh she is going to kill the fairy for talking her into this corner. “I think that I am going to have to remind you of who you are talking to.” She brings the ice magic to her fingertips.

“Ooo, scary witch. Very intimidating, much frighten.” 

And along with at least some small portion of her soul, the magic dies on her fingertips. 

“See, you’re both badass and also kind of sweet.”

“Sweet?”

“You could have frozen me solid but you didn’t.”

“Sweet and not-a-total-asshole are not the same thing.”

“But going on tour and then for a walk with a fairy is kind of sweet. And also the whole back rubbing thing.” 

Icy grits her teeth as color floods her face. “Bloom…”

“You know that you enjoy the back rubs. You know that you like having your hand held. I know it. Darcy and Stormy know it. They don’t really care. So what’s the problem?” Before she can answer, Bloom does. “You. You’re the problem. I mean, not like you’re a problem but like you’re the problem. Wow, that sounded really bad. The problem is that you have a problem with this huge part of yourself and you need to stop being an asshole to that part of yourself.” 

“You really do have a way with words.” She wipes a tear from her eye.

“Are you…are you actually cry right now?” 

“I’m sorry it’s just that…”

“That what?” Bloom frowns. 

“You’re just so fucking stupid. It hurts me sometimes.”

Bloom gives her a rather solid swat on the arm. “But I’m right and you know it and you can’t humor your way out of this one.” She pauses, face growing serious. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I think that it would be good for you to be honest with yourself. And you should stop talking about Kyanite like she’s a different person from you. She isn’t.” 

She swallows hard. 

“Just think about it, okay? What do you have to lose? Darcy and Stormy already made it pretty clear that they aren’t going anywhere. The Winx like you.”

“The Winx or the Bloom?”

“Both! They’ve warmed up to you. Which is kind of weird to say since you’re an ice witch.”

“I’m an ice witch.” She repeats to herself. It is a stupid mantra but sometimes she needs to remind herself. She’s an ice witch not a snow fairy. She’s not that person anymore. She isn’t weak and exploitable. She is Icy. She is Icy. 

But, as Bloom so helpfully pointed out, she is Kyanite. 

“How about we talk about something else for now?” Bloom offers. “What are the bejeweled bark trees like?”

“They have bark. That is bejeweled.” Icy answers very helpfully. 

“Good to know.”

“They usually grow in groups of six. One for  each of us; myself, Diamond, Chalcedony, Ruby, Topaz, and Goldstone. We shout one of our music videos there…”

“Celestial Winter, the Cosmic version.” 

“Yes, that one.”

“It was your favorite.” 

“Yeah. It was.”

“We don’t have to go back there. If you don’t want to.” 

“I want to.” 

[your-sweet-cookies]

What’s your all-time favorite memory?

I have many wonderful memories, but perhaps one of my all-time favorite memories it's one of the first interactions I had with my dear beloved Niragi! I remember it even now... It was during the start of my first year of University...

~ Flashback ~

The beginning of the University year! A time full of energy and movement due to the swarms of students arriving back for another semester full of work, projects, studying, parties and stress, so that they could get ready to readjust themselves to the campus life, or if they were freshmen, to accommodate to this new form of lifestyle.

Kukki just so happened to be one of the first years of that new school year and since she'd just arrived at the Tokyo University's campus for the first time, she was a bit disoriented on top of being somewhat nervous. This was the start of a new chapter in her life, a new beginning, and she was rather excited and a bit scared about what was to come next. She was curious about the kind of people she will meet here and eager to study the realms of the human mind. So Kukki was determined to not start it on a wrong foot!

But as it happens, her luck wasn't soo great and in her first day there, she'd already managed to get lost while looking for the dorm rooms...

That was probably to be expected for someone as unlucky as she was, the silver haired though to herself after wandering aimlessly around the giant University grounds for the last one and a half hours, as she stopped all hopeless on one of the many courtyard benches. She heaved a deep sigh and rested her face in her hands.

What was she going to do? She couldn't spend all day looking for a dumb building! Plus, on top of that she had to organize her stuff in the new room, get the week schedule for the semester, finish delivering her documents to the secretariat and some other minor, yet annoying administrative things that had to be done before the start of school.

The young woman heaved a deep sigh. It couldn't be helped, at this rate she had to go on and ask one of the older students or staff members for instructions on where the freaking dorm rooms were located. Of course, that would've been the right thing to do from the very start, but given her shy and somewhat antisocial demeanor, talking to strangers came kinda hard for her and that's why she avoided that for the time being, struggling on her own. But now she didn't have any other choice, unless...

'I'm saved!' A big smile illuminated her gloomy features when her gaze landed on a giant billboard showcasing the full map of the campus. 'Why the heck haven't I seen that earlier?!' Kukki thought to herself and got up from the bench, starting to hurry towards the life saving map. But as she was walking fast like that, only paying attention to the billboard in front of her and nothing else, the young woman didn't even realize the other person coming from the side, staring at their phone screen, which caused the two to collide into each other.

Next thing she knew, Kukki was lying on the ground, with her luggage next to her and the documents she was holding just moments ago, scattered all around her on the grass. 'H-Huh?' She blinked for a few moments, as if trying to register what the heck just happened and the next thing she heard was an angry voice, reprimanding her. "Hey, look where you're going!" The voice startled her and rendered her even more confused than she already was.

Looking now in front of her, she finally noticed the other person, who collided into her as they were both walking, leading them both to fall to the ground. The other one was an older student, probably in his final years, staring annoyed with his brows furrowed at her. Mid shoulder length raven hair brushed in a messy half bun, familiar dark brown eyes, face piercings and a cold stare... Kukki noted the man's features, not even realizing that now she was staring at him. 'Handsome...' Was her next thought followed by a blush, before she was brought back to reality by another scoff and rude retort from the man. "Got a problem?! Stop staring at me!"

"W-What?" Kukki finally muttered, a feeling of awkwardness creeping up on her as she realized that she was in fact ogling at him like a weirdo. "I-I... I was not... Uh... s-staring... I-I..."

"Are you daft or something?! I said watch where you are going! You bumped into me and almost made me drop my phone, you idiot!" Of course, it was his fault for staring at his phone while walking, instead of minding his surroundings, but he wasn't going to admit that and instead threw the blame on her. "But I didn't..." Kukki was still confused, she could've sworn there wasn't anyone in her direct line of vision as she was walking, otherwise she would've avoided them.

"Whatever, I don't have time for this!" He started getting back up, mumbling and grumbling under his breath, but right as he was about to leave, a slight ounce of common sense seemed to reach him, maybe as he realized it was actually his mistake, making him rethink his actions and heave a sigh. The man turned around and stretched a hand out to her to help her get up. Kukki stared at the hand for a few moments then at its owner, before hesitantly accepting it and getting back up on her feet.

"I-I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to bump into you! I don't even know what happened or how and why it happened, since I was looking where I was walking and..." She stuttered an apology, all while she was still staring at him, before he interrupted her. "I said whatever! I don't care about your poor excuses, you've already made me lose enough time! Also, instead of staring at me, you should pick those up before the wind blows them who knows where, since I assume they might be important papers." He pointed at her documents, still scattered on the ground.

"Ah, right, s-sorry again... T-thanks for telling me..." Kukki's blush grew a hue darker at the second mention that she was still staring at him, as she felt the strong urge to facepalm herself for it. Without further ado, she started working on picking up the documents, thinking that that awkward conversation was now done and the other student will just continue on his merry way, since he did make it clear he didn't have time to waste.

But yet again, she was taken aback by the fact that he didn't leave, but instead helped her with the papers, all while still mumbling under his breath words like 'stupid freshmen' or 'dumb idiot making me waste my time', which made the silver haired grimace since he didn't even have any obligations to help her and she didn't even ask him to do it. But whatever, she wasn't going to complain for an extra hand helping her.

"There. This should be all the papers left on the ground." He shoved them into her hands and now turned his back on her to leave for good.

'W-What a strange man...' Kukki thought to herself, still blinking in disbelief at what just happened, before realizing the opportunity that just graced by her. "Hey, wait..." She shouted after him, making the man stop yet again and growl in annoyance. "What do you want now?!" He asked, not turning to face her again. "S-Sorry for bothering you... again... But... D-Do you know where I could find the dorms?" Kukki's timid voice was barely audible, but she still managed to ask the question.

"Are you really fucking stupid or something?! It's the building right next to the cafeteria, aka the one in front of you! It says in bold letters above the freaking door!" He grumbled in frustration and even more annoyance, as if Kukki could've predicted that the cafeteria was situated next to the dorms, which by the way, unlike it, didn't have any 'bold capital letters' plastered above the entrance door to signal that those were dorm rooms.

"Ah... I guess it kinda makes sense for the canteen to be situated next to the dorms..." Kukki rubbed her chin and nodded as if she finally had this sudden revelation. "Thanks a lot!" She smiled joyfully and he sighed again. "Now, if that was all, I will leave!" The man's grave tone made it clear he was fed up of her and wanted nothing more to do with her, so Kukki nodded again and didn't say any other word, allowing him to finally leave, although she maybe wished to at least know his name.

'Maybe some other time...' She continued staring at his back, watching his silhouette grow smaller and smaller as he continued walking away. He was a truly rude young man, but still... Kukki couldn't brush away that strange feeling that made her heart pound in her chest like crazy and the sensation that she knew him from somewhere.

~ End of flashback ~

Yeah... A truly charming memory indeed! Quite an intense way to start your first day on campus, but I'm not too upset about it. Suguru was nice even back then when he tried being all mean! <3

[astrofireworks]

ok listen i’m working in a radiography clinic over the summer and last week the most beautiful doctor came in and immediately my mind went to doctor!Eunwoo and i broke down today at @nataliekaytbh​ so buddy thank u for crying w me today over Eunwoo 

are you ready 

because i’m sure as hell not 

i’ll be crying over doctor!Eunwoo this whole summer 

intern Sanha

relegated to the registration counter

meaning that when patients come into the radiographer's he takes their name and phone number and puts it into the system and gives them a waiting number

also meaning that when five patients arrive all at once he's up to his eyes in names and numbers and trying not to go cross eyed my poor child

here to make money not to learn so he doesn't mind doing registration and being busy anyway

highkey me

nurse Jinjin

reads out said waiting number and then brings patients into the x-ray room

and has to confirm they're not pregnant or anything that makes them unable to be exposed to X-rays and stuff in general

also helps sanha do registration sometimes when the queue gets a bit too long

radiographer Bin

most of the time sleepily mans the x-ray machines

sometimes the patients ask him if their x-rays are okay or if there's anything wrong with them

what the hell

Bin's not a doctor he wouldn't know

And so tells them that

And gets whacked on the head by nurse Jinjin who comes to escort out the mildly shocked patients with a forced polite smile on his face @ the patient & a glare @ Bin

Shakes his fist indignantly at Jinjin when he leaves

Lab tech MJ

has the lab right next to the radiographer's clinic

Usually collects blood samples from patients

is very good with needles

is also very good at laUGHING and telling jokes in order to make people forget they're here to get blood sucked out of their souls with a giant needle

sometimes laughs really loudly and makes the radiographer clinic patients wonder what's going on

sometimes makes jinjin wonder what's going on too  

not that he gets jealous or anything

not at all

coughs

Nurse rocky

Eunwoo's runner, mostly

Sometimes for the urgent cases that need to be processed immediately rocky doesn't wait for the computer system (which takes centuries) to receive the x-ray

He goes down immediately to bin's and asks whoever's at the registration desk to print it out

i.e, Sanha

i.e., the intern without the password to access x-rays

which means he has to go to jinjin or bin for them

after which he hand-delivers them to Dr. Eunwoo

a lot of staff now know Rocky by name simply because he's always running up and down from Eunwoo's clinic to different departments trying to get stuff for Eunwoo

a sweetheart, really

charms the pants off of all the female nurses

also charmed MJ enough to get MJ to call him whenever MJ's done drawing blood samples from someone from Eunwoo’s clinic

Efficiency™ because that's the way Eunwoo works

ok so mostly because Eunwoo always sends Rocky down he's never been to the radiographer's

Until one day

Sanha messes up

It isn't really a bad mess up !!!!

He just keyed in someone's identification number wrongly

But the thing is that he's been doing that quite a few times

I mean to be fair he's just an intern

And also because he's just started the job !! He makes a couple mistakes sometimes

can you tell I'm basing Sanha off of me and just trying to defend myself rip vivi get ur shit together ;;;;;;

But every time Sanha messes up and Jinjin doesn't manage to check on it and correct it properly the report with the mess up gets sent to Rocky

And Rocky has to waste time trying to fix the mess up

Which takes Rocky away from the important things !! Eunwoo needs him to do !!

But also when Rocky fixes the reports he has to slide on his glasses and it makes all Eunwoo’s patients swoon a Little

Before they go into Eunwoo’s consultation room and swoon a Lot

And so Eunwoo is mildly frustrated and decides to go down during one of his breaks to find out why the radiographer has been messing up the reports so much

And so he swishes his lab coat on & swings his stethoscope off & polishes his glasses and heads downstairs to the radiographer's

Only to see poor Sanha piled underneath a stack of registration forms full of names and phone numbers  

Oh

Okay

So that's why

And nurse Jinjin is running around like a headless chicken trying to shuffle the right people from the X-ray room to the waiting room and vice versa

And Bin is slumped in his room giving instructions in a monotonous voice to the patients  

"take a deeeeep breath" 

"don't think of elephants" 

"sike lmao I bet u did" 

“stOP LAUGHING OH MY GOD YOU’RE GOING TO MESS UP THE XRAY”

"oh my god I didn't tell you to stop breathing you can breathe now"

And the phone is ringing wildly ("so that's why our calls are never answered," Eunwoo thinks) off the hook but nobody can respond because they have like 50 million people in the queue

no lie today i had 50 patients come in over the span of 2 hours it was truly a mess

And so Eunwoo waits for a while

until Jinjin notices that everyone hasn't been speaking for a while and instead staring at a certain corner of the room

in which Eunwoo has been leaning on the wall tapping away on his phone, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose

Looking very much like an angel !!!!!!!!!!!

If angels came with lab coats and glasses

And there's some gentle tittering from the older female patients and some not so gentle whispering and giggling from younger ones

Sanha hasn't even looked up from the registration desk poor dear but if he did he would have-

"oh my god"

Oh well there's sanha looking up then

I mean to be fair jinjin's thought process is somewhere along the same line

But he also has a job to do and no insanely attractive doctor will distract him from it !!!

I mean, an insanely attractive lab tech might but

You know what I mean

Responsible™ Jinjin

So when Jinjin escorts the last giggly girl out of the X-ray room (to be fair the radiographer AND the nurse are both very attractive so really what are the patients to do?) they both finally turn to Eunwoo

And Eunwoo looks up from where he's playing angry birds on his phone to Jinjin smiling politely and Sanha just plain out staring

"hi why are u here where's Rocky"

Jinjin, smacking Sanha on the head: "don't be rude son but yes why are u here where's Rocky"

Eunwoo, smiling that really cute crinkly eyed smile: "nah I just came to see what the situation was with the radiography room since Rocky always has to correct stuff on the reports you guys send up"

Sanha, alarmed and scrambling to defend himself: "djkshdks I-"

Jinjin, pressing his hand against Sanha's mouth: "ah yes it's me I've been the one messing up sorry about that I'll be more careful in the future"

Sanha, confused bc jinjin's covering for him?????

literally me when my boss kind of did the same thing??? guilt x100

Bin, coming out of the X-ray room: "are u covering for Sanha??"

Jinjin spluttering because he's trying to be nice but they're both exposing Sanha

Bin also spluttering because

Wow

Holy shit

Is that a real doctor

Probably not

Eunwoo also spluttering because

Wow

Holy shit

Is that a real radiographer??

Because hi he would like to quit his job and intern at the radiography clinic please

Bin seriously reconsidering his career choices and wondering if it's too late to replace Rocky as a nurse in Eunwoo's clinic because wow

Sanha turning to Jinjin and saying in a very low, serious voice: "while they're ogling each other I think we should escape"

Also Sanha: talk shit get hit gets hit on the head by Bin who coughs grumpily and says

"Listen I don't know who you think you are but here at the radiographer's we're very busy with um like X-rays and radiography and like uh x-raying people and stuff so like"

"could u like move along"

Eunwoo: "it's your lunch break rn"

Bin, defensively: "weLL YES jinjin apologised for his (Sanha's) mistakes so move along now"

Bin avoiding all eye contact by staring at Eunwoo’s lab coat

Which fits Eunwoo very well, he thinks

Doesn't need to be buttoned but hugs him in all the right places

Which is just as well since eunwoo's in a boring (very well tailored) dress shirt and boring (very well tailored) slacks

And very nice glasses he looks very smart and handsome and

Wait I mean

Bin, turning bright red & coughing: "wow yes we gotta gO"

And ngl eunwoo is a little hurt because there are Very Little people in this world who deny eunwoo's small crinkly smile

And there are Even Lesser people who become grumpy when eunwoo smiles his sunshine beam

And this really cute radiographer with black square glasses too big for his face and a small pout is being very grumpy indeed

So eunwoo smiles at Sanha and Jinjin, takes his leave and wanders out of the clinic back upstairs to his own, wondering what he did wrong

And so when Eunwoo leaves, Jinjin immediately whirls around and hits Bin on the shoulder

"WHAT WAS THAT"

(smack) "WHY DID YOU TELL HIM TO LEAVE"

(more smacks) "HE WAS EYEING YOU UP"

(smacks again) "YOU COULD HAVE BAGGED THAT SWEET CANDY"

Bin, sulkily: "like you could have bagged MJ hyung?"

Jinjin, turning red and mumbling under his breath and stalking away

Sanha, thoughtfully: "am I the only one here without somebody to bag"

And so life goes on in the radiography room, with MJ popping in and out to collect blood samples from patients who need Labstix and are in line for their x-ray and Jinjin blushing every time MJ so much as beams in his general direction

Sanha snorting because wow could they get any more obvious

Bin bet Sanha 5$ that Jinjin would make the first move but at this rate Sanha thinks Bin might have to pay up because there's no way in hell Jinjin can form a coherent sentence with MJ's Beam on Full Blast

But then

Eunwoo pops in again

And immediately all activity in the waiting room is halted to stare at this beautiful beautiful man with beautiful glasses and a beautiful focussed look and a beautiful smile

Bin, coming out to see why jinjin hasn't brought his next patient in & ready to give a piece of mind to whoever interrupted jinjin's clockwork routine

Also Bin: stutters and flushes at the sight of eunwoo

"Uh ok what do u want"

Eunwoo, smiling at Bin: "I'm here to collect the X-ray film of patient 777"

Bin, blurting out in confusion: "where's Rocky?????"

Eunwoo, frowning a little because all this poor angel wants to do is see the cute radiographer pout again but all he's doing is making this poor confused face which i mean,,,, ngl,, is kinda cute too,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

until he realises that all of them are waiting expectantly on his answer (except Sanha, who has reverted to frantically pounding on his keyboard in a desperate attempt to reduce the stack of registration forms beside him)

And he says: "I let him rest????"

Jinjin squinting because as long as he's worked here he's only talked to Eunwoo on the phone because not once has this doctor ever let poor Rocky rest

There has to be an ulterior motive

And that motive (insert mental image of lightbulb going off over Jinjin’s head) is Bin

So he beams at eunwoo and shoves him into the X-ray room with bin and says "YES DO THE MEDICAL TALKY TALK IN THERE GO DO THAT SHIT YOU GO BOYS"

Sanha sighing internally because it just means their queue will be held up rip

Eunwoo, flustered and blinking rapidly because wow now he's in a small, semi-dark kind of enclosed room with a really cute radiographer who's self consciously pushing his glasses up and pouting to himself

Wow

Really cute

"Um"

Bin, floundering: "UH YES 777 RIGHT" & bounding over to the computer to print out the report right away mmhmm yes sir

Eunwoo frowning a little because this boy seems like he's trying to get rid of him fast????? But this radiographer’s also really cute and he sees that this boy keeps eyeing Eunwoo so Eunwoo is seriously getting mixed messages?????

So he takes a step forward to bin's table and -

"WHY DO YOU HATE ME"

Oh shit unconscious eunwoo blurting strikes again

Rocky always said it'd hurt him one day

I mean mostly it's been harmless things like "I REALLY LIKE YOUR SCARF" @ a patient and "wow did you do your hAIR THAT'S A REALLY NICE COLOUR"

But shit shit shit he's said it in front of this cute guy

Who's gaping at him?????

Bin, ultimately, in a really small voice because he's confused and also Eunwoo is standing really close to him and all he can think about is that if he cranes his neck out a little he can touch Eunwoo’s nose with his nose and-

Ok Bin focus

"I don't hate you?"

Eunwoo, floundering a bit because ???? IT REALLY SEEMS SO >;(

"PROVE IT"

Oh good job eunwoo

Way to go

Cute radiographer boy probably is going to kick him out of the room

Call security on him

Never see him again

What for have a nice face if you can't woo peopl-

Wait

Cute radiographer boy made a sound

"Wait what"

"I SAID DO YOU HAVE A PLATE ON YOUR KNEE"

wait

What

Eunwoo just blinks in confusion and like

Damn Eunwoo for being so cute just blinking because Bin is going to lose his goddamn mind

He's so embarrassed rn he literally asked angel doctor to "go on a date with me" and now he's messed up and angel doctor is looking at his knee in confusion and really he's messed up he'll never see angel doctor again he'll never go on a date with this beautiful beautiful doctor and -

"uh I don't have a plate on my knee but uh,,,,,,,,, I have,,,, a date??? With uh,,,,,,, thee??????"

Cue grimace from eunwoo because wow he could never rap

Mostly because he cannot come up with things on the spot

Like this

Wow eunwoo good job congratulations

Also grimaces from jinjin eavesdropping outside because wow truly this doctor might look like an angel but his wooing skills seriously need some effort

Bin squeaking slightly because wow he might look all grumpy and tough and a lil shit but

He’s such a smol marshmallow inside

a small harshmallow that’s melting because Eunwoo’s decided to heck it and hit bin with his Full On Angel Smile

you know the one

yeah this one

wow my mum looked over while i was pasting this picture in my working doc as reference and went “WOW I LIKE THIS BOY”

same ma same

so does Bin, too, actually

and so he squeaks out a little, “yes?”

“yes as in yes you’ll go on a date with me?”

smol Binnie squeak: “yes?”

and so they stand there and grin all silly at each other until Jinjin, knocking on the door: “IS EVERYTHING OKAY WITH THE REPORT NURSE ROCKY IS WAITING”

oh shit 

ok no but for serious the doctor that came in looked 100% like gong yoo he had the hair and the soft sweater and worn jeans and beautiful smile and everything

listen i’m just so weak for doctor!Eunwoo 

doctor!Eunwoo bringing lunch for radiographer!Bin and them eating in the empty waiting room during their lunch break 

Bin dropping by Eunwoo’s clinic during his breaks and waiting for Eunwoo to finish his consultations just to kiss his boyfriend on the cheek 

wow ok I’m saving this fic idea for another time or I’m truly going to kill myself with feels and tears

[disenchantedif]

Either 27 (fluff) or 17 (general) for Cameron? Whichever you think fits best, sorry I couldn't choose lol.

"Are you blushing?" and "Are you jealous?" for Cameron.

Early relationship and M!Cameron. Also, AU where MC's university experience doesn't immediately go to shit.

This probably got way too long so I broke it up some, read the rest under the cut.

The university cafeteria is packed as always. You're certain it looks the same as most like it around the country except this one...well, one table is full of Nephilim lounging with their wings out and another has Basilisks partaking in a venom shooting competition.

Maybe it's a bit unique.

You're sat in the back corner with your laptop propped open, a document on magical politics open on one side of the screen. Your homework for Advanced Lightning Manipulation occupies the other side, though it's more doodles than any actual work so far.

You absentmindedly begin to pick at your sandwich when-

"Hells!" You jump, feeling a hand on your shoulder.

You twist around to see none other than Cameron with his hands up in surrender, smiling sheepishly. You also notice that all eyes are now on your previously secluded corner, and the whispers are already beginning.

They say kids are vicious, and you can attest to that better than anyone. Everybody always fails to mention that a shit ton of young adults crammed into a cafeteria can feel like facing down a pack of hyenas, though. They thrive on gossip, and what's juicier than a fling between the Chosen One and the Unchosen One?

Nothing. Nothing is the answer. Or it appears to be, at least, when every pair of eyes follow you both around every corner. You had just started to fade into obscurity, then Cameron had to come along and fuck it all up.

Again.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." He says, keeping his voice down and out of range of prying ears.

"I wasn't scared." You huff, pushing your plate away.

You had already lost your appetite.

"It's no good?" His nose scrunches sympathetically as he sits beside you, "If you want, we can go grab dinner-"

"I don't have any money." You interrupt him, "Besides, it's fine. I'll take it back to my dorm."

"It probably tastes like cardboard." He jokes, but you see the way his eyes dart around, making sure no one approaches.

"Maybe, but it's food." You shrug, "I need to finish this anyway."

You nod at your assignment and his eyes light up when he recognizes it, "For Professor Karlin's class, right? I'm in another section of it, and the assignment is super easy. I can help if you want?"

You almost snap, say no and tell him to get lost. It's your gut instinct when it comes to Cameron; just get him to leave you the hell alone. Except you don't really want that anymore.

Which is the absolute weirdest feeling ever, to want Cameron Fletcher around. Theo would be laughing his ass off at you right now, and you're sure Viktor would give you his patented disappointed eyebrows.

"If you want." You say instead, still stiff but slowly relaxing as people grow bored of your apparently normal conversation.

If they wanted to see you throw a glass of Sprite in Cameron's face, they're about six months too late.

He twiddles his thumbs for a bit as you work, occasionally piping up in assistance, but his nervous energy is overwhelming.

"Is there something you're wanting to talk about?" You say, pretending to be uninterested as you read the same question five times over to look busy.

"Oh." He startles, "Um. Yes, actually."

It's silent for a moment, so you continue to prompt him, "About?"

"Um, this weekend." He glances down at his hands, "A bunch of the freshmen are going to Inferno."

You know Inferno well. Every supernatural person with even a slight social life in New York knows Inferno well. It's the only club around town that's hidden from mortal eyes; you have to be supernatural to get in...and twenty-one.

"Most of them aren't even old enough." You say, "They get fakes?"

"Yeah. Apparently, Theo knows someone." His face sours as he says his name, "That's actually what I wanted to ask you about."

"What? Inferno?" You raise an eyebrow, "I'm not going, if that's what you're wondering."

He gets what you're saying without you having to actually say it. You might enjoy parties or clubbing, getting a fake ID, living it up with friends.

You'll never know, though.

Your presence is like a sedative to any social gathering you attend. Usually, things just end up awkward and you leave early to go home and cry in the shower. At worst, someone mentions your reputation that so often proceeds you and you have to beat off a panic attack with a stick.

"I know." He says quickly, "I'm not asking you to go. I was actually going to suggest a movie night."

"Movie night?" You say, more than a little shocked, "You're that nervous about suggesting a movie night?"

"No." He twists the edge of his shirt between his hands and you almost feel sorry for the cotton, "I was going to ask if anyone else asked you to go?"

You blink at him, incredulous for a moment, "Cam, who the hell would ever ask me out?"

He frowns momentarily, "Off-topic, but you're a catch."

"I'm a walking bad luck charm." You scoff, "The question remains."

"I overheard Theo and Penelope talking in Alchemy." He explains, "Apparently they were both going to ask you to go."

His face lights up like a stoplight, the dark flush hard to spot against his tan but certainly there.

"Are you blushing?" You ask, eyes wide, "Cameron-"

"I just wanted to know if they did ask you." He frowns.

"They know we're...a thing." You say, unable to call it dating, "They knew you were listening and wanted to fuck with you."

His mouth drops open slightly before he closes it, lips pursed. He doesn't say anything for a moment, leading you to draw your own conclusions.

"Hold on, are you jealous?" You question, "Why would you be jealous?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" He responds, catching you off guard, "Barely a year ago you couldn't tolerate me and everyone thought you and Theo were already dating."

"So?" You ask, "I never dated Theo. I've never wanted to date Theo. And, don't get me wrong, Penelope is gorgeous-"

"You're not helping."

"Like, drop-dead stunning-"

"Now you're just being an asshole."

"I would totally let her step on me kind of hot-"

Cameron groans and you finally take mercy on him.

"But she hasn't asked me either." You confirm, "As of now, I have movie plans with this annoying kid I used to go to school with."

He smiles hesitantly, "If they did ask you, would you rather go with one of them? I mean, I guess I'd understand."

Your brows furrow, studying the weight of the words before you respond, "If I wanted to be with someone else, I would. I want to be with you, though, so that's where I am."

He grins now, a full-on beam of sunshine glowing on his face, "I want to be with you, too."

"I hope so." You say, "I spent a lot of time convincing Viktor and Theo not to break your kneecaps. I'd hate to have that hard work go to waste."

He just sighs in response.

[simpsiren]

the uptight softie;

lee jeno x reader

Jeno Lee, president of the student council here in college. He’s everything you’d expect a president to be. Uptight, firm, yet still kind and sweet with his gentle side that you wouldn’t expect to stand out till you actually bother to talk to him. Though he unwillingly got voted, he still has a reputation to keep up, therefore the reason for his stern nature, not wanting to slip at any point of his college life to keep his position and do anything that’ll benefit him in University.

genre. angst, fluff, strangers to friends to lovers

word count. 19.2k~ (someone stop me omg sshsjsj)

description. Money. It has always been tempting isn’t it? It’s what makes the world go round. In this life where circumstances could easily be tipped in favour of the rich and powerful, it’s no surprise when one day Jeno is met with a woman that struck up a deal for him to tame her daughter to earn money in return. He thought it was a simple job, till he came face to face with the girl he had to keep under control.

!as they should masterlist!

It all started on a Tuesday. First week of the new school year. Jeno, being appointed as the new president of the student council, his first job was to plan a welcoming party for the new students fresh out of high school coming into their college.

“Can we please have alcohol?” Everyone’s heads turned to Ten in unison as his suggestion rang through the ears of the council members. With a sigh, Jeno leaned forward and covered his eyes with his hand for a moment before removing it and replying a, “Do you want me to be stripped of my position?” He questioned, not expecting a reply in return as he darted his eyes down on Ten.

“We can simply sneak it in though.” Jeno gaped his mouth open, lightly scoffing in disbelief as he heard his vice president even considering it as well. “You can’t be serious, Haechan.” Jeno leaned back into his chair, arms folded as the room fell silent. Everyone watched quietly while Jeno was deep in thought. He suddenly sprung back, sitting upright and placing his arms on the table, fingers clasped together in the most formal way possible.

“Only for the seniors.” Jeno scanned his eyes across the room, reading everyone’s expression that he couldn’t quite make out. Ten lets out a groan, slamming both hands palm down on the table. “Um hello? This party is for the freshmen for God’s sake. Why even allow alcohol when you’re only giving it to the seniors? No seniors will be there but us.” Ten rolled his eyes and huffed in exasperation. “We can get drunk anytime.”

Jeno turned his head to his next targets, aka the rest of the council. “What’s your say on this matter?” The four members, Mark, Winwin, Sungchan and Yangyang exchanged looks with each other. Jeno squinted his eyes while watching them send telepathic messages among them. None chose to reply Jeno. And so Mark was the only one to speak for the rest, saying, “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Ten stood up, pushing his chair so far back that it made contact with the wall, hands on his hips as he tried to supress his anger, Haechan doing the same while sitting down and dropping his head on the table. Jeno confidently rose from his chair, the loud sound of him closing shut the clipboard he had for the meeting. “That’s settles it. Meeting’s over.” Jeno announced with a very small, almost invisible smirk.

Ten and Haechan groaned and sulked in disappointment together while the rest began to pack up. Jeno made his way to the door with a cunning smile on his face. Just as he was about to grab the door handle, the door was already flung open for him. “Maybe I speak to Mr. Lee?” Jeno looked at the person standing in front of him. It was a woman. A young and healthy woman in her forties. It seemed like she had everything designer. Clothes, handbag, accessories.

“Which one are you referring to?” Haechan shouted from the back, making Jeno glance over his shoulder and wanting to roll his eyes but refrained himself from doing so in front of the woman. “Mr. Lee Jeno, of course.” Haechan lets out a loud and shameless ‘tsk’. Jeno cleared his throat, moving his body aside to give way for the woman. “Come in. Guys please exit quickly, thank you.” The woman walked in and took a seat. Jeno waited for the rest to float out of the meeting room and sat back down in his original spot.

“So who are you and why have you come to visit me?” Jeno asked politely, placing his clipboard back on the table and looking at the woman who sat two seats away from him. “I have an urgent matter to discuss.” She began, and Jeno was all ears. “I assume you’re aware that there’s going to be a new transferee.” Jeno glanced sideways and nodded, remembering that he’s been informed on the matter before the start of the school year.

“And what about it?” The woman sighed, leaning in as she stared at Jeno. Not knowing how to react, he simply stared back. “The one that’s transferring is my daughter. And I’ll be straight up with you. She’s not the best student to have around.” Jeno arched his brow in a questioning manner upon hearing the description from the apparent mother of the transferee. “She’s hard to handle. A delinquent, in other terms.”

Jeno didn’t know what to reply. He’d be asking, “So what’s this got to do with me?” But the woman already answered that mental question of his, saying, “As president I think you’re the most suitable person to take care of her.” Jeno blinked his eyes rapidly. Heaving a silent sigh, he licked his lower lip and looked to the table for a moment. “You want me to keep an eye on her?” Jeno asked, inferring from her previous comment.

The woman sucked in her lips and nodded firmly. “She’s been moving from college to college and she never seems to stay for longer than a semester. I’m hoping to stop this by having her be tamed.” Jeno placed his hands firmly on his thighs, leaning in as the side of his lips crept up into a small smirk. “What do I get out of this?” Ah, of course. The golden question. What could Jeno do? He was genuinely curious. And he was never one to do something if it didn’t benefit him in some way.

“I’ll pay you for it.” Jeno couldn’t even bat an eye as her words went in his ears and settled in his mind. He couldn’t help but gap his mouth open ever so slightly. He knew the woman was rich. He began to think about just how much is she willing to pay for such a job. “She’s rich so I could negotiate with her.” Jeno thought to himself, clearly already intrigued.

“How much?” The woman raised both her eyebrows, as if surprised that she’s been asked that question. “Two thousand every month. I’m willing to pay more if you do a good job and she doesn’t get into trouble for the first half of the semester.” Jeno chuckled for a second, nodding his head as he began to felt happy. Looks like he didn’t need to negotiate after all. But he also wondered if she’s paying him this much due to how hard the job could be. Either way, blinded by money, Jeno placed his palm firmly on the table and whispered, “Deal.” with much determination.

I was out at a restaurant. And though I knew I had fo attend college soon, I didn’t give two shits. I simply ordered a ribeye steak for dinner and enjoyed the luxuries of spending the money in my credit card away into thin air.

I was just finishing my last bite when my phone dinged. Curious, I flipped my phone screen side up since I haven’t looked at it the moment I stepped into the restaurant. The sight of the notification had my eyes rolling even before I opened it. “College of NCT?” I questioned, reading over the words sent from my mother. So that’s the new college I’m attending. I didn’t even have time to mentally prepare. “Thanks for telling me so late.” I muttered, turning off my phone and shoving it in my pocket and left the restaurant after making my payment.

No one was at home, as per usual. My parents usually working late every single day. It feels as if they’re never home. I got ready for bed, getting comfortable and letting my body sink into the silk sheets and fluffy blanket. I spent the night scrolling through Instagram stories. Just then, I pressed my thumb down on the screen, making it stop on one specific story that a follower of mine posted.

“Isn’t that the college I’m suppose to go to?” I asked myself, squinting my eyes to get a clear view of the picture. It was a group of girls, and behind them was the college crest. I smacked my lips, nodding in affirmation after I confirmed it. I got curious, spending more time to observe her next few stories. I tilted my head in awe, watching as she took a video of herself preparing some party somewhere on campus.

I texted a reply to her story asking, “What are you guys preparing for?” I rolled over so that I was laying on my stomach, shoulders to my ears as I waited for her reply. A reply popped up, making me instantly click on it. I gaped my mouth open, a mischievous chuckle escaping. “A party for the freshmen? Well I’m not a freshman but it’s still a party.” With a shrug I laid back down, turning off my phone as taking a mental note of when the party was so that I could have my fun.

I knew very well I had classes to get to before the party but I simply chose to skip. It’s only the start of the year anyways so I assumed that there wasn’t anything important for me to know, except for the party of course. It’s held on a Friday night, like all parties do. I decided to wear something casual, a sweater and wide legged jeans, something that doesn’t scream, “This girl is from a rich family.” I had to blend in, right?

While taking my necessities on the kitchen counter, my eyes slowly went to the cabinet where my parents stored their alcohol. I looked left and right, as if I was being watched, thinking if I should grab a bottle. But, with a happy giggle, I skipped on over and slide open the glass door, eyes glazing over the many bottles of different alcohols. Without giving it much thought, I grabbed the bottle that seemed to have the largest cotent and shoved it into my bag and went off.

I had to the take the train here, of course, again keeping up with my theme of not looking rich. The number of eyes I’d be receiving if I were to roll into their parking lot with my white lamborghini would have been countless. I took slow steps to the gate, eyes looking over the whole campus to get a glimpse of it. With a sigh, I said, perhaps too loudly, “It looks exactly the same as every college!” I glanced over my shoulder, a few eyes on me as they walked past but I shrugged and continued walking.

Entering the school, it was pretty easy having to know where the party was. I just had to follow the large crowd of youngsters. Loud chatters could be heard all around me. The more steps I took to the venue, the more I began to think about what was I even doing here. It’s a party, yes. But what was I doing here with freshmen? I shook my head as if clearing slate, wanting to take this outing as, “I should get a feel for the college anyways.”

I stepped in. It was an outdoor party, fairy lights dangling from tree to tree, making the area illuminated with an orange hue. There were circular white tables all over and equally spaced apart. I flashed an unimpressed expression, eyes drooping and body slightly slouched as I gaped my mouth open. “The fuck kind of party is this?” I questioned with a shake of my head, pinching my temples as I hear the most boring party music that being played through the speakers.

I made my way over to the pantry first thing, grabbing a plate and shoving whatever food I could till it was full. I grabbed an empty cup from the side and started to walk around for a place to sit. As I looked around, disappointed started to wash over me. The party felt too formal, but it also wasn’t since there were people jumping and dancing to whatever gross music the DJ chose to play.

I took out the bottle of alcohol, realising I had pulled out vodka. Either way, with a shrug of my shoulders, I opened the bottle and poured at least half into the red cup, sliding the bottle back in my bag discreetly. I leaned forward, elbows on the table letting it support my upper body as I took slow bites of whatever food I had on my plate. I bobbed my head slowly, trying to get a liking for the music being played but I groaned in despair. “Who even is the DJ. Whatever they’re playing sucks.” I turned my head to where the DJ was, he was banging his head so furiously and partying as if it’s the best song he’s ever played.

“Must be Lucas then.” I flinched and jumped around at the voice behind my back. It was a guy. I observed him up and down, he looked like any regular student, except for the fact that he’s way above average in the attractiveness scale. “And who might you be?” I questioned with a smile, unconsciously lifting up my cup and taking a sip.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, weight being placed on one leg as he leaned back slightly. “Lee Donghyuck. But I should be the one asking you that, right? You don’t look like a student here.” Donghyuck tilted his head to the side, a smile cracking on his lips. I huffed, placing the cup down roughly on the table. “Well, I’m about to be.” He squinted his eyes at me as if he knew something but tried to keep a neutral face.

“Can you tell this Lucas guy to play something better? This does not feel like a party at all.” Donghyuck scoffed at my comment, nodding his head with much agreement. “Right?! There isn’t even any alcohol.” He whined, shaking his shoulders from left to right and scrunching his face up like an unhappy baby. “Want some?” I asked, jerking my head down to the cup. He blinked his eyes rapidly, peeking into the drink. “You bought vodka? How’d you even know there wasn’t going to be drinks here?”

I chuckled in response, eyes staring at the drink for a moment before going back to meeting his gaze. “Could say I have my ways. But with the knowledge that it’s a freshmen party, it’s pretty clear that there won’t be any alcohol.” I wanted to gag at the way I spoke that. I was sounding too formal explaining something so simple. “Whoever planned this party can suck on toes.”

Donghyuck laughed out loud, leaning back and holding his stomach. “Oh God finally someone said it! Lee Jeno is in fact the most boring president there is!” He continuously banged his fists on the table, bursting with glee as he made fun of whoever Lee Jeno was. Donghyuck grabbed my cup and finished the entirety of the vodka, hissing as he swallowed. “Well I don’t know who you are but have fun. Don���t worry I’ll try to change the DJ.” With a flirtatious wink, he sauntered off, disappearing into the crowd in a matter of seconds.

I poured myself another half cup, downing it sip by sip and pouring again. The cycle went on and I already feel it kicking in, head beginning to spin ever so slightly as I even struggled to stand up. “Fuck.” I whispered, thinking about how drunk I already was as I lost track of how much I’ve downed in the past hour. I looked around, my vision blurred with little to no focus. Suddenly, the song changed, a huge drop was about to hit. I bobbed my head with a giggle, the music finally being something I could actually jam to.

I glanced down at my phone when the crowd settled down. Squinting my eyes, I realise that it was getting close to twelve in the morning. I shoved my phone in my bag and took wary steps, unstable each time I walked past a person and having to touch their shoulder for support. I stopped by a tree, panting as if I’ve run two kilometres to get here. I wasn’t feeling good at all. The world that was spinning in my head suddenly shuts down as my ears blocked out every noise in my surroundings, my vision getting worse and worse. Maybe I shouldn’t have bought the vodka.

I suddenly began coughing, my stomach starting to churn as I gagged, feeling as if I’m about to vomit any minute. I released my grip off the tree trunk, placing both hands in my knees as I hunched over, continuously coughing. I was about to collapse when I was suddenly being held up by my waist. “Woah you good there?” I didn’t know who it was, nor did I care. I let my body go weak, legs unable to support me no longer. “Hey what do you think of birds that get shot-” And just like that, it came out. The vomit, I mean. All the food I’ve eaten, the vodka. I realised I vomited on this person’s shirt, making him let go of me and taking steps back in shock. And before I could even hear them say anything, I passed out unconscious.

I winced in pain the moment I gained my consciousness. My body couldn’t move an inch and my head was banging, only making me place a hand on my head with little to no hope that that’ll help with the dizziness even the slightest bit. I slowly fluttered my eyes open, closing them back instantly as I was being blinded the lights of wherever I was at.

I opened back my eyes slightly, seeing a few figures standing around and looking down on me. I swallowed, trying to sit up straight but instantly failing, dropping my head back on the couch. The door was suddenly slammed opened, making me flinch at the sudden shock that flowed throughout my body.

“What’s such a big matter than I had to be called here?” A guy with a low voice half-shouted. He sounded extremely furious. Another guy came bursting in, going past the angry one and standing right in front of me. I narrowed my eyes, focusing on one random spot to get my vision to focus. And once I did, I was met with the sight of a bunch of men. All of them being ridiculously attractive.

“The fuck am I dreaming? Suddenly I’m dreaming.” I said with a giggle, putting my hands up in front of me and opening them up as if showing a rainbow. All of them kept silent till the angry one heaved an annoyed sigh. “Who even is she?” He asked. The one beside him groaned, placing a palm on his forehead. “Didn’t you read my text?! She literally vomited on my shirt!”

“And if you aren’t aware, she’s not even from our school!” I furrowed my eyebrows, his shouting making my head hurt even worse. “Bitch shut up you’re too loud.” I mumbled, rolling my eyes and waving a lazy hand to no specific person. He scoffed and leaned forward as if wanting to throw a punch but was quickly held back.

I made eye contact with every one of them. They were looking right back, simply staring as if they don’t know what to do. “So you’re saying she crashed here, Ten?” Another person questioned. “Well she was drunk.” He replied, folding his arms and huffing. I noticed how the angry one kept looking at me. He had his eyes squinted and staring meticulously.

Jeno couldn’t help but try and put the pieces together. Someone that wasn’t from his school apparently crashed their freshmen party and she said she’s about to be part of the school. It became obvious to Jeno that she could be the woman’s daughter. He wasn’t told when she would start attending since he had forgotten to ask about that crucial information, but it seemed like he didn’t have to. However, being way too tired to handle such a problem...

“Why did you even bring her here? Send her out. If the higher ups find out, I’m dead, not you idiots. This is why I didn’t want to allow alcohol in the first place.” He growled, voice getting lower than before and sending a shiver down my spine. And he left the room as quickly as he got in. Everyone let out sighs of relief the moment he did, as if his presence were choking them to death. “What did he even mean by that? It’s not like she knew about the no alcohol rule.” One grumbled. “Because she’s not suppose to be here in the first place!”

“Can you stand?” One of them held their hand out. I grabbed it as they helped to pull me up, my back instantly slouching with bended knees to get my balance. “S-Should one of us send you home or?” He looked to the others, silently asking for either their help or their opinion. One of them shrugged and folded his arms. “Wait!” The guy I vomited on shouted.

“Did you say you aren’t from here but will he attending soon?” He leaned close to my face, to which I responded with a lean back. I blinked my eyes rapidly and nodded my head slowly, not sure of where he’s getting at. He immediately snapped his fingers as his mouth gaped open, so as his eyes as if a lightbulb appeared and glowed over his head. “You’re the transferee, aren’t you?!”

“What are you talking about, Ten?”

“Haechan I thought you knew about this? About the new student that’s transferring.” The person, now I remembered to be the Donghyuck I had a small conversation earlier, widened his eyes, flickering them from me to Ten. “Jeno didn’t tell me anything.” Ten groaned and shook his head. “Some vice president you are.” “Maybe Jeno doesn’t even know.”

“Winwin’s right. You can’t trust Ten. Who knows where he got this information.” “Twitter obviously.”“I’ll literally throw you off a building, Sungchan.”

Though I was still feeling a little sick in the stomach and head, it didn’t take me long to figure out what they’re talking about. Apparently Haechan is the vice president while I assumed this Jeno guy to be the president, with information from my previous chat Donghyuck, which now I knew to be Haechan. “Can I just sleep somewhere?” I croaked out, smacking my dried lips and running a hand through my hair. “I’ll do it.” The one that held my arm said, lifting his free hand up lazily. “Let’s go.”

I was taken to another room, which seemed to be a dorm. His room didn’t seem to look like a huge mess, but it wasn’t the cleanest either. He guided me through the door and settled me down on his bed. He went back to close the door and sat down on the floor, motioning his hand to the bed and saying, “You can sleep on my bed.” to which I responded with immediately plopping my body down and closing my eyes.

I was about to drift off to sleep when he suddenly cleared his throat, as if wanting to get my attention. I opened my eyes, seeing him sitting in front of me with his legs crossed and knees pulled to his chest. “Is it true that you’re the transferee Ten was talking about?” With a sigh, I nodded my head. “Why didn’t you come for your classes this week then?” Mark asked. “I’m lazy?” I replied with a light chuckle. “Honestly I don’t care. I just go when I feel like it.” I added on, shrugging. He pursed his lips into a thin line. “What course you taking?” “Biomedical science.”

“I’m Mark, by the way.” He introduced himself suddenly with a soft smile. I reciprocated it. “_____.” He looked around his room, seeming to be in thought. “Don’t worry about whatever just happened. We can settle it tomorrow.” He turned around, reaching his hand out to pull on a string that turned off the lamp light that was on when we stepped in. With that, I closed my eyes, instantly falling asleep the moment I did.

The next day, I was woken by the sunlight hitting my face, the windows and curtains that were closed last night now fully opened and lighting up the room. I took in my surroundings, spotting Mark sleeping on the floor, curled up with no pillows to hug or support his head. I sat up, rubbing my eyes and bending doen to tap Mark on the shoulder. “Good morning...?” I whispered.

I mentally chuckled to myself, thinking how I even ended up in such a situation. I came to a freshmen party, got drunk, got myself into trouble with a group of men I don’t even know. And now I was waking up in a dorm of a guy. He has still yet to wake up, so I shook his shoulder again, a little rougher this time. “Wake up.” I said, raising my voice slightly. I turned to my phone which was peeking from underneath the pillow to check the time. 10:05AM.

“Hey.” I shot my head back to Mark, who slowly got up with a grunt. He slouched his body forward and ruffled his messy hair vigorously. “Wait what time is it?” Mark asked, looking around frantically and patting his sweatpants for what I assumed to be his phone. “Chill it’s 10:05. I mean, unless you have morning classes.”

Mark placed a hand on his chest, exhaling slowly in relief. “No I don’t. Mine starts at one.” I clicked my tongue and nodded my head, taking in the irrelevant information. My phone dinged again, and it was from my mother. “Great. My mom found out about last night. How did she even know? I blocked her from my socials. And since when did she even care about what I do?” I thought to myself out loud, making Mark look at me and listening. “Sounds like you don’t have a good mother.” He commented. I scoffed at his words. “Well whatever you’re thinking just times that by a hundred.” Mark chuckled, standing up on his feet. 

Mark looked down on his phone, his eyes scanning down the screen quickly before he lifted his eyes up to me. “Get ready by twelve. I just got told to send you to Jeno.” He shoved his phone into his sweatpants, wanting to walk away but he stopped when I shouted out his name, turning around sharply and humming in question. 

“Is Jeno someone important...?” I asked, sounding somewhat scared. Mark chuckled lowly, scaring me even more like whatever words that were about to come out of his mouth would send me away from this school. “He’s... You could say an intimidating president of the student council. Like those bosses that tops everyone.” Mark described him carefully, the tone of admiration shining through slightly and thinking deep to find what other things about Jeno he could say. 

“But he’s fine when you actually know him. He just puts on his tense nature during meetings, which scares most of our council members only during those meetings. For your information, he was the one that came in the room we were at yesterday looking pissed and angry.”

I looked up, trying to recall last night’s disaster. I did refer to him as “angry guy” in my mind, but I never bothered to take a close look at him and remember how he looked. “Should I be worried? “Depends on how you act when you’re talking to him.” Mark replied quickly and turned around to walk away into the bathroom. 

I laid back on my bed, looking through my socials while waiting for him to finish showering. He came out after about ten minutes, now wearing jeans and a white shirt. Mark jerked his head to the bathroom, holding up the small towel he came out with and using it to dry his hair. I raised both my eyebrows and sat up, walking into the bathroom.

While showering I kept thinking about Jeno. I kept telling myself that I didn’t need to be scared, he didn’t sound scary at all. From the way Mark described him, I assumed he was like those “Hard Outer but Soft Inner” type of guy, which trust me I have met plenty of times. How could Jeno be any different? I had to wear the same clothes, which I found to be slightly uncomfortable but I just had to live with it till I move into the dorms. 

I followed behind Mark as he took me to where Jeno wanted to meet me. Mark gave a pat on the shoulder, leaning in and whispering a “Goodluck.” when we ended up in front of the door. As I heard Mark’s footsteps walking away and eventually disappearing, I looked up at the sign on the door. “Student council.” I clicked my tongue, shrugging and going in without giving much thought. 

The moment I stepped foot into the room, I felt it. I felt what Mark meant by his aura scaring the council members. The room was overpowered by the energy Jeno was radiating. I stared at him, not moving an inch. He didn’t move as well, simply sitting casually as his eyes met mine. It sent chills down my spine, just his stare alone. It felt as if I was being stripped with him scrutinizing my every physical detail. “Hey.” Jeno greeted. Surprisingly, it sounded light and normal. But who knows? It could just be for this one greeting. 

I idled my way to the chairs, looking around I recognised this room. It was the one I woke up in last night when I was being surrounded by a whole gang. I slowly pulled out the chair and took the seat right next to him. I didn’t know I could be this intimidated. No words were yet to be said, and with each second that passed by, I wished that I could just melt and disappear from this place. 

“I didn’t call you here to interrogate you about what happened last night. Though I found it odd how you came waltzing into the freshmen party that you weren’t invited to and caused yourself trouble.” Jeno leaned forward against the table, forearms up with his fingers interlocked and parallel to the table. I furrowed my eyebrows, forehead creased. I gulped, allowing myself some leeway from my tensed up posture to slouch my body into the seat. “Uh so do you need me to explain or-”

“No. I just need you to move into the dorm at building A, level five, dorm number fifty six tomorrow and start coming for class. From what I know, you skipped every single one this week. I don’t think that a good way to start the year, don’t you agree?” I didn’t quite know what to pick up from the way he was talking. It sounded professional, yet sending me a mental message that said, “I didn’t want to be here but oh look.” He could even sound like the leader of a wolf pack, if wolves could ever talk.

I stared into his dark, soulless eyes. I could see the annoyance in there like it’s lodged in his pupils. But he tried to keep it hidden with neutral expression. “I might not do the latter.” I said with a bob of my shoulders, as if I did not give a single care for the world, which to some extend, was true. “In fact I could pack my shit up and fly to London tonight.” 

“Too bad. I don’t think that’ll be happening. Doing background research, I got to know that we’re taking the same course. And if I don’t see you in class next Monday, I can easily call backup and drag you into class.” Jeno placed a finger upright on the table, leaning in as his eyes widened and narrowed down on me, making him the only thing in my focus and preventing me from breaking our gaze. 

The more I stared at him, the more my eyes trailed to not just his eyes that looked like a puppy’s, but his other features, from his hair to his nose and to his lips, which were all in perfect proportion within a beautifully sculptured face structure. I had to admit, he was attractive, more attractive than other guys I’ve been in contact with, he was however more to the cuter side. I wondered how I even passed such a face last night. But his face did not match his attitude at all. He had the look of someone bubbly and just simply adorable, not whatever he’s been radiating.

“Fuck what are you? My bodyguard or something? I do what I want.” I said, pushing the thought of his attractiveness out of my mind. The corner of his lips lifted up slightly. “Not while you’re here.” I leaned back, copying his expression as I scoffed in amusement. “Yeah sure.” I waved my hands in the air as if wanting to spread my sarcasm throughout the room. “If there isn’t anything else to discuss...” I trailed off, pushing my chair back freely and standing up, taking slow and relaxed strides to the door. I opened it and went out, just when the door was about to close behind me, Jeno shouted, “Monday, ten am!” the door slamming shut after. 

I let out a ‘tsk’ and rolled my eyes, something I wasn’t able to do moments ago. “Drag me there, Mr. Lee Jeno.” I grumbled under my breath, folding my arms and making my way off campus, taking out my phone as I called my helper to get all my stuff moved to my designated dorm while I thought about what to eat for lunch. 

I spent the weekend locked up in the dorm, to which I realised was much smaller than my room back home. But what did I expect anyways? I had to limit the things I had to bring here by at least a quarter, which led me to having a headache since I had to prioritize what I needed. I was simply online shopping, mostly for clothes and books. I already had my dorm tidied up too. I was just about to hit the confirm order button when it suddenly didn’t work. I keyed in my credit card information again, the same bolded in red error sign popping up on my computer. I huffed loudly, knowing exactly why this happened. 

“Why did you deactivate my credit card?” I asked angrily the moment my mother picked up the phone. She gave me a long pause, to which fueled my anger more the longer she kept silent. “You’ve been spending too much money when you’re suppose to be concentrating in school.” I squinted my eyes which are still on the computer. I swung my chair around and away from the computer, crossing my legs as I let my free hand dangle off the arm rest. “What does money have to do with me concentrating in school?”

“I’m saying it’s a distraction and I’m not having you do anything that’ll keep you distracted from your studies.” And just like that, she hung up. I brought my phone back down from my ear, letting it drop on my lap as I leaned my head back, letting out an exaggerated groan. “How am I suppose to buy lunch without my card?” I suddenly asked myself, remembering the fact that I went cashless instantly when I got my card. I turned my chair back to my study table and reached my hand out for my wallet. I opened it quickly, placing my hand above my head at the sight. “Barely five dollars? Shit...” 

I smacked my lips, looking around the room as I thought about what to do to solve this matter. Did my mom not take into consideration that I could be starving to death? I might as well do so and die of starvation. “What the hell are my options?” I questioned myself out loud. I was suddenly in a trance, my mind making calculations all over as I tried to lay out all the possible things I could do. Yes, I was this serious since I was that desperate for food right at that moment. I cursed, jumping off my chair and sliding my phone into the pocket of my hoodie and storming out of the door.

I paused in front of the door, the same sign on it sending my migraines if I were to look at it for any longer. I shook my head and burst the door open. To my surprise and luck, Jeno was sitting at the table, head tilted down and not giving a single reaction to my entrance. Silence filled the room for a moment till he spoke out, “Who are you to think you can come walking in here without knocking?” As if the world was put on slow motion, Jeno lifted his eyes off the table and to me, his head not moving at all as he pierced his gaze into mine like a sharp blade. 

“Got a little situation for you.” I placed emphasis on the word ‘little’ to lighten the mood but I gave myself a mental slap afterwards, thinking that I gave off an impression to make it seem like it was a bigger problem than I intended it to be. But to be fair, it was a big problem. It was a food problem for God’s sake.

Jeno didn’t give me a reply, still staring at me, stern and fixated on me like he’d turn me to stone. “Apparently my mom deactivated my credit card and now I have zero money on me and I’m hungry.” Jeno raised an eyebrow at the matter, giving off the “So what?” kind of vibes which is absolutely not welcoming at all. 

“And?” Jeno let out, his eyes now back on the table as he began to write something down. I sighed, glancing sideways as I thought about how much I was hating this. The atmosphere, the air that circulated the room could suffocate me till I stopped breathing, it was way too tense for my liking. “Yeah well uh you’re the only person I know so yes I’m asking you for money. I want my lunch.” I blurted out quickly, wanting to get it out there in his face. Jeno released his grip on his pen midair, letting it fall to the table. He shot is eyes up to be like rubber bands, a scrutinized expression painted on his face. “Seriously? That’s what you came here for? You could have asked anyone.”

Jeno regretted letting that out. He remembered that his job was to take care of this girl, as much as he was annoyed at the fact that he was burdened with such a matter, he had his mind set on the money, letting that being the reason for him to put up with this and not burst his head off from the annoyance he keeps getting whenever she showed up. 

“Fine. But get your mother to settle this soon. And you’re paying me back after.” Jeno reached for his phone out of his back pocket, and while he scrolled his thumb down the screen, his eyes went back to me, making me tense my body up again. “Sit down?” Jeno questioned, but it was more of a demand. I quickly cleared my throat, glancing sideways before speeding up to take a seat at the exact some spot as yesterday. 

We ordered take out and when it arrived, we were eating in pure silence, only the sounds of us munching and chewing to be heard. I watched as Jeno did his work while he ate, pen in one hand, hamburger on the other. The hamburger was close to his mouth as he kept taking a bite even though he has yet to swallow whatever’s left, resulting in his cheeks puffing up and chewing with his mouth full. 

“What work you doing?” I asked out of curiosity, leaning in and peeking at the papers. It didn’t take me long to notice that it was related to the course I’m taking. Jen sighed, only speaking once he was done with his bite. “Assignments. You wouldn’t know since you have yet to attend class.” He mentioned it again, his words that were repeated sounding more harsh than it did before like he’s drilling it in my brain and wanting to pressure me. 

“Jeez...” I mumbled, purposely making it loud for him to hear as I watch him roll his eyes in annoyance, which made him look cute if we’re being honest. “Then why do it in the student council room when you can just do it at your dorm?” I asked another question, sounding like those annoying children that just keeps throwing questions at you. And if you were short tempered, you’d explode trying to talk to them. “Because I have president duties to take care of as well.” Jeno replied in the most monotone voice ever. “Will you actually drag me to class if I chose not to go?”

“I don’t care if you have the will to go or not. I’ll drag your brain and body to the lecture hall if I needed to.” Jeno was quick to reply, I could tell he was already ticked off by me. I finished my drink, the sound that came from sucking air through the straw of an empty cup now filling the room. “If you don’t know, you have quite the reputation, especially on Twitter. If you don’t want to blow up with an image of me forcing you into class, I suggest you go willingly.” Jeno added on, clicking his pen and placing it down on the table as he leaned into his chair, a satisfied look in his eyes as he stared at his work. 

“Fine. I’ll go. If you feed me lunch every day we have class.” Jeno scoffed at my comment, his tongue glazing over his upper teeth as he eyed me up and down. “You are aware that you are paying back for the food I buy just so you’ll attend class, right?” I puckered my lips, thinking it over. “Then my decision to go is still on hold.” I flashed a cheeky eye smile at him, giggling softly as I played around with the empty cup in my hand. Jeno squinted his eyes on me, shaking his head afterwards. “You can go once you’re finished. And take the trash out when you do.” Jeno jerked his chin up to the door. He was well aware that I was done with my food, I guess he wanted me out as quickly as possible, that I could infer. 

I rose up from my seat and grabbed the plastic bags, exiting the room and closing the door behind me. While I went to the trashcan, I thought about how I was actually considering to go to class, thinking about how I could see this emotionless guy with pent up anger burst into flames if I tried to annoy him more. But in the end, it all came down to whether I would have enough energy to leave my bed in the morning.

I ended up sleeping very late that day, close to four in the morning actually. Spending those hours with reading and also falling down the rabbit hole of Youtube’s late night algorithm because once you start, it’ll never end. Despite the late hour that I fell asleep, I was still able to wake up before ten. I realised it was eight, making me roll in my bed and groaning in despair. I kept thinking to myself how did I even wake up this early and why? For one, I wished that I overslept so I wouldn’t have to attend class. But then I remembered the huge problem I had to deal with if I chose to do so.

After scrolling through my socials for a bit, I rolled out of bed, practically falling to the floor right affer since I have yet to gather any energy for my tired body and dragged my feet unwillingly to the bathroom to get ready. I didn’t know what to bring for class. I stared at the stack of books on my study table while I had my bag wide open after I shoved my other necessities in. I scratched my head. “Why do I do this?” I muttered to myself and simply grabbed the book at the top of the stack and went out.

Knowing which lecture hall to get to thanks to my mother informing me way before I even step foot into college, it was easy for me to find it and head in. There weren’t many people, I’d assume about ten scattered throughout the seats. I shrugged and planned to seat somewhere close to the back, however I ended up sitting at the second last row. I noticed how I had plenty of time before class but not enough for me to do anything outside. Not knowing what to do, I shoved in my earpiece into my ears and listened to music, opening the first page of the textbook I bought and making small doodles on the cover page.

As if on cue, the moment I looked up from the textbook, my hand still on it with my pencil just hovering, Jeno walked in. And it’s as if the whole hall turned into a runway. All the lights in the room were switched off, with one light to shine on him and only him. The light above hovered over him as he went up the flight of stairs.

To my surprise, he was wearing a green tropical button up, tucked into his black jeans along with black sneakers. All of it made his seemingly perfect body proportion prominent. His black hair that seemed to capture all the light was expertly slicked back with just a few strands falling down his forehead. Just as he walked past my row of seats, his eyes glanced to mine, and for a moment time stopped, he was frozen mid-walk as we made eye contact. I hate to admit it but, he did look effortlessly stunning.

I blinked my eyes rapidly, shaking my head to take myself back to reality. I turned my head to the back, Jeno was already sitting right behind me. He exhaled sharply while removing his bag off his shoulder. He mouthed something that I couldn’t make out since my music was overpowering every sound in the world. I widened my eyes and took one side off, asking, “What did you say?”

“Congratulations on coming.” Jeno said in the most non-celebratory tone ever. I slide my back down the seat, legs extending as I resumed my doodle of an eye. I could hear Jeno shuffling in his seat as he tried to take out whatever he needed for class. “We aren’t using that textbook, by the way.” I snapped my head back to face him. “Seriously?” Jeno scoffed and folded his arms, shoulders relaxed as he leaned back. “That textbook contains chapters five to ten. We’re only at chapter one, which is in the book before.” Jeno tilted his head to one side, a cunning and smile of mischief forming on his face. “Do you not bother knowing beforehand what the hell you’re learning this semester?”

I shook my head confidently at his question that I assumed wasn’t supposed to have a reply. “Never bothered.” I simply said. The lecturer walked in and class started. For the whole two hours, I was on my phone, reading, drawing, whatever the professor has said went in one ear and out the other. But I did try to take in some information, though I knew nothing about what’s been going on.

After class, I waited for everyone to leave, not wanting to handle the fact that I need to squeeze my way through everyone to get out the door. I was about to stand up when a hand was placed firmly on my table, which made me stop in my actions to look up, seeing it was Jeno. “What the hell-”

“Did you understand anything that he went through?” Jeno jerked his head to be back where the professor was still there packing his stuff. I sat back down, hand lifted up to swirl it around carefree. “Eh here and there. Some things I knew from last year.” I said with a shrug. Jeno nodded his head with sucked lips. “I’m surprised you even bothered listening. All I saw you do was using your phone and drawing.” I chuckled. “I chose to do Biomedical for a reason.”

“Anyways, you need to catch up on whatever you missed since we have a mini quiz that’s coming soon and I’m well aware that you only know five percent of whatever’s going to be tested.” I gaped my mouth open in pure shock with protuberant eyes. “Mini quiz?! It’s only January!” I raised my voice slightly, being wary as I waited for the professor to walk out.

“We have a quiz at the end of every month.” My mouth was hung open as this point, jaw to the floor as I blinked my eyes rapidly after. “None of the colleges I’ve been to even do that!” I was now able to shout, echos being followed up with it as it spreads throughout the hall. “Well now you know.” Jeno retorted back with a halfhearted smile.

“So what do I go to the council room or something?” I questioned with raised brows. Jeno suddenly slammed a sticky note on my table, I glanced down at it before looking back at him. “Come to this address at six. I’ll teach you from there. And bring the right textbook.” Just like that, he turned around sharply and walked out of the hall, though it didn’t look like a dramatic exit, to me it was.

I peeled the sticky note off my table, inspecting it closely as I read the address that Jeno wrote in such a neat handwriting, but it made sense for him to write like that. I could tell from his character. Curious, I decided to search it up while I made my way back to the dorm. Sliding the sticky note into my pocket, I read whatever was on the screen the moment Google finished loading.

“Wait it’s a tutoring centre?” I tilted my head a few degress as the name of the address I keyed in was shown on screen. I began to wonder why he wanted to teach me at a tuition centre when I could simply go to his dorm, or the council room. Though I was thinking long and hard about it, the moment I entered my dorm, it completely went out my mind and plopped myself onto my bed, getting comfortable as I fell asleep instantly when I closed my eyes.

It has always been a routine of mine to take an afternoon nap. I did wake up at three but went back to sleep since I felt that it was too early for me to get up. I knew that the tutoring centre was within walking distance so I didn’t have to rush either. I woke up for the second time, seeing that it was five fifteen. Though I knew I had time, I decided to head out and make a trip to Starbucks before I went there.

I got my drink and I was able to arrive at the centre right on time. When I entered, I was completely clueless, I didn’t know where Jeno was and all I could see were rooms after rooms. I went up to the font desk where there was a woman sitting down. “Um hi can I know where Lee Jeno is?” She flashed a warm smile and motioned her hand toward the hallway. “Right down there. Just find room twenty four.” I downshifted my head as a way to say thank you and followed the direction of her hand.

I looked left and right, trying to find the room number. I finally spotted it, walking up and peeking my head at the window on the door that gave me view on the inside. What I saw shocked me. The room was filled with kids, sitting down and concentrating on their own work while Jeno was at the front of the room, with a boy next to him.

I knocked on the door and walked in, never really thought about waiting for him to say, “Come in.” The kids has their heads turned to me for only a moment before going back to their work, not giving me my entrance much thought. “You guys can pack up and leave now! Don’t study too hard and make sure you rest, okay?”

“Yes, Jeno!” With that, the room got noisy with the kids talking to each other while they packed their bags. I went deeper into the room the give them space to leave. It was now only Jeno the kid next to Jeno that has yet to leave. I couldn’t help but get close to them to see what they were doing.

I gaped my mouth in awe, realising that Jeno was teaching the young boy. Jeno had his arm around the boy’s shoulder, having to be on his knees to meet the height of the boy while he bent his back forward to put his face next to his. The boy was extremely attentive while Jeno gave out clear explanations. I noticed a few things about Jeno while I was watching this. One, he’s nothing like how he is in college. He seemed bright and nice, gentle with the kids. Two, he’s extremely smart. Of course he would be. He’s working at a tutoring centre teaching kids. Three, I saw him smile for the first time.

Jeno helped the boy pack his bag and when he was about to leave, he turned around, waving his hand happily to Jeno. Jeno did the same, and when I turned my head from the boy to him, he had such a big smile, a smile to wide that his eyes formed a thin line. His smiling face resembled so much of a puppy’s. It shocked me to see this side of him, a completely new one that seemed to only be reserved within these walls. “Bye bye!” The boy squealed, closing the door behind him.

Jeno walked back to the front seat, taking out the textbook as well as his stationery. He looked up to me. “Aren’t you going to sit down?” And Jeno was back to being his usual self, turning to stone real quick as if none of his cheerfulness happened moments ago with the kids. I placed my coffee on the table and sat next to him. “You’re working here?” I asked very slowly, almost in a “I refuse to believe this is true” tone.

He nodded his head in response. “Part time. They let me use the room after my shift so I usually study here.” Jeno, despite being tall and having his knees to his chest while sitting on the kid sized chair, seemed comfortable and he pulled it in to get closer to the table. Jeno began teaching me and as expected, he thought me well, better than the professor actually. He sounded quite lively, again being different from his regular stoned nature as he had an aura that every kid would love their teachers to have. “So do you get it now?”

“No.” “Are you fucking serious?” “Yes.”

Jeno was instantly frustrated. He suddenly took his bag from the side, taking out packets of what seemed to be gummy bears and other types of jellies and throwing his bag back down. He opened a packet furiously and began eating at such a fast rate. “What are you doing?” I asked, eyes widening as I watch him plop one gummy bear into his mouth at a time. “Stress eating, what do you think?” Jeno growled with a roll of his eyes. I brought my head forward, mouth closed and not knowing what to say.

Worried, I quickly let out a, “Oh my God stop I was joking. I heard everything you say! Stop the...” I said while swirling my hand in front of him. “Stress eating.” I finished my sentence. Jeno took in a deep breath and slammed the already finished packet on the table. His eyes trailed from the packet and to me very slowly. “I would’ve killed you if you actually wasted two hours of my time.” Jeno said lowly, his voice never failed to make me shiver as if it sent ice cold water down my body.

“Can I have one...” I asked, not being considerate about the fact that I sent Jeno on a stress eating spree seconds ago. “No.” He quickly replied, and I couldn’t help but frown, looking down on the table. He suddenly slid a packet in front of me, making me mutter, “Thanks.” while the two of us ate in silence after.

We lost track of time, and though the air that circulated us was silent most of the time, we did have chats here and there in attemps to fill in the awkward gaps. I suddenly remembered something, making me let out an “Ah” to which Jeno responded with a hum in question. I took out my wallet and slid out the cash that I took out before coming here. “For yesterday’s lunch.” I muttered. Jeno took the money without saying a word, putting it in his wallet and placing it on the table next to him. “When’s our next class?”

Jeno looked up thoughtfully before answering. “Thursday.” He replied. “Do you have anything to do before then?” Jeno clicked his tongue, nodding. “Of course I do. I need to take care of admin matters, and work.” Jeno talked as if he had a lot on his plate, to which I can clearly see. If he wasn’t studying, he’d be teaching. If he’s not doing either, he still had duties to fulfill as the president.

“Can I follow you around then?” Jeno gave me an unimpressed look. “You could be studying.” I groaned, letting my head fall to the table with my arms below for support. “Can I call you if I don’t know anything?” I questioned, shooting my head up to look at him, who had been staring at me since long ago.

“Why would you need to when I already laid it all out for you just now? Unless you weren’t listening.” Jeno slowly opened another packet of gummies. He was probably on his fifth one at this point. “I still need your number? You’re the only person I know in our course.” I said with a frown, which unconsciously turned into a pout. Jeno arched a brow at me. “I know your number. I’ll just text you later.” I hummed in response, nodding and placing my chin on the palm of my hand as I shoved gummy after gummy into my mouth.

The first quiz of the year was coming in two days. And if we’re being honest, I didn’t do any studying for it at all. The last time I concentrated on something was the time Jeno thought me for those two hours. I got home that night and looked through the notes I’ve taken down but that was the last time I saw it. I’m assuming it’s somewhere in my bag, but I was too lazy to search for it.

I laid down on my bed, boredom being the only thing I’ve been feeling these days as for one, my mother’s keeping track of my spendings which means that I can’t simply go out and do whatever I want, though I did went to an ice cream shop that sold an overly priced ice cream that I wanted to try out. I was disappointed that it didn’t live up to the hype I saw on Instagram. And for two, I had nothing to do. Sure, I had the money. But nowhere to go.

I scrolled through my contacts, which weren’t many to begin with since I wasn’t able to make friends from the constant transfers of schools. I then stopped on Jeno’s. I went over to Whatsapp where he sent a “Hey.” The night after the tutoring session. I replied back but he left me on read never bothered replying still, to which I muttered, “Rude.” as I looked at the two blue ticks beside my last text.

I decided to text him, asking “You free?” I checked his last seen. He was online two minutes ago. Surely, he’d get my notification. Luckily he did, he went online and blue ticked my text. As I watch the words “Typing...” just below his name, my heart starting beating faster ever so slightly for some reason. Why was I even getting nervous?

“Yeah. Why?” I could already hear his monotone voice that read those two words for me in my head. I was quick to reply with a, “Help me study for the quiz on Thursday.” He took about ten minutes to reply. “No. I taught you everything already.” I scrunched up my face at his reaction. What answer was I even thinking? I rolled my eyes in annoyance.

I never met Jeno after that one day. He came in and out of classes as if I was invisible, simply carrying on with whatever he’s been doing before I came here. Though I felt quite lonely, how could I blame him? I’d be too annoying for him to even tolerate.

“Please!” I texted, purposely sounding desperate. “Or else I’m skipping and I don’t have to take the test.” I giggled like a child that stole candy from her friend, wanting to see if I made an impression on him through text. Jeno replied so fast, making me laugh out loud. “Do you not care about your grades? It’s the first quiz and you’re already skipping. Do you want my hardwork of teaching you go to waste?” He sounded mad as I read that, oh he was definitely mad.

I quickly texted a reply. “Then teach me.” I sent a wink emoji after. Seconds later, he said, “Library, twelve am. Gtg, got a meeting.” I laughed to myself, nodding my head while I placed my phone screen down beside my pillow while I reach for my book from the study table to resume my day reading like how I’ve wasted the rest of my days.

It was late into the night. And at this time of the day, I wouldn’t actually have the brain power to even study. But I guess that Jeno was way too busy that he was only free. I was beginning to feel bad for calling him over to the library this late. Some students were still studying though. The library was dark with only the light at their table switched on, making the whole place just barely lit. I sat down at a random spot. I didn’t bother to bring my textbook since I had everything I needed to know in my notebook.

I heard the door open, and came walking in was Jeno. His outfit instantly caught my eye. This late into the night and he was wearing a loose baby pink suit, baggy blazer and dress pants. His hair that I assumed to be slicked back now all messy and in disarray. He scanned his eyes over the library and instantly spotted me, our eyes locking the whole way as he came to sit down.

“Thank for inviting me this late.” Jeno whispered, though his sarcasm was screaming loudly through his words. I took a moment to simply look at him. He looked tired, worn out. He ruffled his hair, nothing to give it support no longer as he tried to tame the messiness even the slightest bit. He ran a hand down his face as he exhaled. “So.” Jeno started, wasting no time.

Two of us sighed in unison, leaning back into our seats while I picked my phone up from the side to check the time. “One thirty. That’s not too bad.” I said with a shrug. Jeno was scratching the crown of his head, closing his eyes. I couldn’t help but had my eyes superglued to him this whole time. Something about “tired Jeno” just hit different.

“Did you do this on purpose?” Jeno suddenly asked, eyes flying open and darting it down to me. I leaned back, hands in the air swiftly in defence. “Maybe. But! I genuinely needed help in concentrating.” I raised both brows, my lips forming an upside down smile. “So what you can only concentrate when you’re with me?” Jeno questioned again, his voice making it seem like he was putting me on interrogation.

I bobbed my shoulders. “Perhaps so.” “Quick of you to assume that when it’s only been one month.” Jeno said with a smile that didn’t seem like a happy one but rather mischievous and cold. “What have you been doing the whole day wearing... that.” I asked, pointing to the suit he’s still wearing. It was only now that I noticed how he had the first three buttons of his white botton up opened, exposing his skin with his collarbone peeking out ever so slightly. I guess it had been covered by the blazer this whole time.

“Meetings. Haechan wanted us to start dressing formally for who knows what reason. Trying to act like we’re office workers or some shit when he can’t even handle being a vice.” Jeno complained, pressing the side of his hand to his eyebrows to shield his eyes and sighing. “You look fashionable so I guess it’s not all that bad.” I encourage with a nervous chuckle.

“At least we got through whatever we need to know today. We can spend the rest of the day doing nothing.” I blinked my widened eyes rapidly at him. “You’re free tomorrow?” Jeno nodded after pursing his lips into a thin line. “That’s rare.” I said, as if I knew him more than a month.

I went into the hall feeling confident about taking the quiz. To be honest, the topic wasn’t that hard. I am in fact smart, it’s just that I never bothered about my grades and reputation so I laid it off most of the time, like those students who study the day before the exam yet still achieve the highest of marks.

I was waiting for the professor to come in when Jeno came strolling in, the door flung open and I couldn’t believe what’s in my vision. Jeno dyed his hair, and not just any colour, he dyed it a bright baby blue. He stood out so much he was sticking out like a sore thumb. To add on, he wore a blue blazer with jeans to match his hair. He doesn’t even look like he’s taking a quiz today.

Just like everyone else in the hall, I had my eyes on him while he made his way to take his usual seat right behind me. And when he plopped down on his seat, I gaped my mouth extra wide in front of him and scoffed, my eyes trailing up to his hair. “I can’t believe this. You dyed your such in such a colour!” I shouted, maybe too loudly.

Jeno tilted his head downwards and constantly ran his hands through his hair, ruffling it and combing it, going back and forth with the two motions. “Why did you even-” “Tell you later. He’s here.” Jeno jerked his chin to the bottom of the hall when the professor came in. We did the quiz and resumed with the lecture. Luckily for me, I bought the right textbook this time as was able to follow up with the professor. We ended class as I instantly turned around to look at Jeno, still shocked at his drastic change in hair colour, but also impressed by how good it looked on him.

I noticed how most of the girls kept turning their heads to Jeno while they make their way out of the hall, constant whispers and mutters filled the room till everyone got out. “Mm you seem to be popular.” I said, placing my stationary into my bag. Jeno was packing up as well, standing up with a sigh that lasted three days.

“So why did you decide to suddenly dye your hair?” I asked as I closely followed next to Jeno while we went down the flight of stairs. “Are you like those girls on TikTok who dye their hair when they’re stressed out?” I added on, laughing softly after as I shifted all my hair to fall on my right shoulder.

“What? No. I had a party with the council last night. I was dared to dye my hair. They picked the colour.” Jeno said out. “Congratulations, by the way.” I tilted my head up to him, an eyebrow raised. “Why?”

“Because you didn’t do anything to get in trouble this month, excluding the freshmen party incident, as well as annoying me practically every time we meet.” I laughed, nudging him on the shoulder to make him look at me since he’s had his face looking forward the whole time on our way back to the dorms.

“At least I annoy you in a good way.” I said after Jeno looked down and locked eyes with me for a brief moment. I couldn’t help but notice how he smiled ever so softly before he broke away our gaze, a smile so small ot was almost invisible but I still saw it either way.

Jeno and I had this system of having me coming over to the tutoring centre for us to simply go over whatever we were taught that week. Surprisingly, but also not so, I did well on the quiz. Jeno and I continued to have these meetups. And though I thought it was only for studying purposes, I realised how I was focused, not because I had to study, but the fact that Jeno looked breathtaking almost everyday.

Generally, I’d be skipping and dodging every attempt from my mother forcing me to focus on schoolwork. Tutors, actual professors coming over to our home to teach when I’d be running off somewhere not wanting to deal with it. I didn’t feel that with Jeno. “Looks like you know everything.” I realised Jeno was talking and I came zinging back to attention. I nodded my head with a chuckle. “This is an easy chapter to be fair.” I bragged, twirling my pen between finger to finger. We packed our stuff and left the centre, going our separate ways after bidding each other goodnight.

Jeno watched her walk further and further into the distance till her figure grew smaller and finally disappeared when she turned the corner. Jeno looked down his phone, the message from her mother that was sent two hours ago still have yet to be opened. He unlocked his phone, texting a “Got it.” Before making his way over to the address that she sent.

It was a secluded café, hidden in the deeper parts of the neighbourhood where not many would pass by and visit. Jeno saw her sitting by the window, casually sipping on her drink. Jeno took in a deep breath before entering. He quickly made his way over to her, taking the seat opposite. “So.” Jeno exhaled sharply. “The money?” The woman nodded her head and cleared her throat. “I’ll have it wired to you after we’re done here.”

“Then why did you want to meet me?” Jeno tilted his head, eyebrows furrowed as he squinted his eyes. He watched the woman as she sat up straight and placed her hands on her knees. “I just wanted to ask how she’s been doing.” The woman said. Jeno clicked his tongue, nodding his head and glancing sideways before answering, “It wasn’t easy, but worth the money I’m about to get.”

Jeno thought about just how fast time flew by, especially when he was with her. They didn’t even hang out much, just pure study sessions at his part time work place. They never once hung out with a purpose outside of studying, though they’ve been doing it for months. Just like that, the first semester had already ended. At that moment Jeno recalled all the times he’s spent with her like a movie tape that flashed before his eyes. Their every memory vividly etched into his mind, a sudden one suddenly occuring to him the moment he mentioned it.

It was Febuary 14th, Valantines Day. And instantly, I grew scared as to what I had to face this day. It happened every year, at every college I had been. And I just so happen to have class today. I paced back and forth in my small dorm, peeling the dried skin off my lips with my teeth while I fiddled with the hang nails of my thumbs, contemplation of going to class being on my mind for far too long.

Not being able to handle the stress I’ve put on myself, I opened my closer, quickly thumbing through it and taking out a black jacket, along with black sunglasses. If I had to go this far just to attend class, I’d better be receiving some sort of reward from Jeno.

I could remember what happened last year so clearly. The moment I stepped out of the building, lots, and I mean lots of guys were waiting just for me, gifts and presents for them to confess their love which I clearly accepted none. I never wanted their gifts, it wasn’t of value at all, that I could tell with just a glimpse of it. It was annoying. I knew I was popular on my socials but I didn’t know it would have escalated to such extends.

I slowly turned the knob of my door, pushing it open and peeking just my head out, carefully looking both directions before pulling my entire body out into the open hallway. I placed my hood on, pulling it so far as to cover at least half of my face as I adjusted my sunglasses and began walking. If I had bothered, I would have gone through the back exit of this building. How unlucky was I to not do it, forcing myself through main exit of the building.

I gulped anxiously, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket as I kept my head tilted down the whole way. I had to take a few steps down a pathway, and just when I wanted to turn a corner, time froze for the shortest of second, a large group of guys, some I’ve seen on campus at some point during my time here, others being complete strangers. They were sitting down on the floor and leaning against the walls as if they’ve been awaiting for my arrival for hours.

I couldn’t even bat an eyelash before they began coming at me. And just like that, I had to sprint like I was being chased by zombies in an apocalypse. I ran for my life, and to who knows where, I was most probably running in circles while trying to find the Science department, but was too occupied by the terror I was faced with to even think straight.

“Fucking hell.” I muttered, already out of breath as I lost track of where I was heading and how long I’ve been running. I looked down at my phone, and out of pure desperation, I unlocked it with shaky fingers, wanting to call the first person that came to mind.

“Jeno!” I screamed a cry for help when I heard his unflattering, “What?” when he picked up. “Save me! I’m bring chased! Jeno!” I was practically wailing with exclamation marks at this point. His breathing disappeared instantly after that. I realised that he hung up, only making my eyes protuberant as ever as my mouth gaped open so wide at the audacity of Jeno.

I turned my head back, the screaming of the guys never stopping this entire time. “How’s their stamina so good?!” I thought to myself, not wanting to look back again and continue running ahead at full speed. After who knows how long, I finally saw the Science department coming into my view. I flashed the widest smile on my face as I made a run for it.

I was a few metres away when I was suddenly being pulled by an unknown force, pushing me against the wall while the shrieks of the guys got muffled and disappeared as they continued running in the same direction. I was panting heavily, desperately gasping for air as if all the air around me had been sucked away for my lungs to grasp. I took me awhile to get my mind in the current situation since I was overly tired from the ruckus I had just gone through.

I swallowed once I got my breathing to the regular. Looking over my shoulders, someone was holding them, firmly yet lightly as well. It felt protective yet gentle when made contact with my skin. My eyes ever so slowly trailed from the hand that gripped my shoulders, to their arm that I realised was extremely veiny and buffed, to their broad shoulders which length was much longer than mine, making it feel as if I was being trapped with their body loomed over me.

I tilted my head up, Jeno’s face and body inches away from mine. Our eyes met, and it locked, firm and secured. Like a struck of lightning, his touch had sent an electric shock throughout my whole body, specifically at our point of contact till it stung and burn, but in a good way. Jeno’s breathing brushed across the skin on my face which only made me stand there in his grip, frozen as ice with my chest clenching tighter and tighter due to the sudden wave of emotions I was feeling.

“They’re gone.” Jeno whispered, his eyes peered to the side, checking if the coast was clear yet he never seemed to remove his grip off me, let alone doing anything about the close proximity between us. Silence circled in the air for a brief moment till Jeno pushed himself away from me lightly. “Heard from the members that they suddenly saw you running around like some mad woman. Apparently you called and I had to run all over the place to catch you at the right time.”

I eyed Jeno head to toe. He looked flawless. He seemed to have dressed up fancier today. A pink blazer that went perfectly well with his blue hair, white dress pants, and black shoes, and even a black beret to tie the look. I noticed how he had his botton up opened three bottons down again, it seemed to be a style of his, which intentional or not, drew me in real quick.

“I was running around so that I’d waste time and not have to attend class.” I said with such pride, wanting to toy around with Jeno for the fun for it. Jeno blinked his eyes twice, corner of his lip lifting up. It wasn’t a smirk, but a look of much disbelief and amused in one. Jeno took a step back, effortlessly running a hand through his fluffy hair.

“I wasted thirty minutes of my time chasing you around to save your ass and you’re telling me it’s for fun and games?” He narrowed his eyes down on me, fear washed over me like a huge wave as his stare from before was now filled with much anger and annoyance. In a split second, he had his grip on my wrist, suddenly dragging me into the Science department and to our lecture hall.

Jeno burst the door wide open, everyone’s heads turning to the door instantly as the sound of the slamming echoed across the silent hall. “It’s rare to see you late Jeno. It’s your first time actually.” Jeno still had his hand around my wrist, releasing his tight grip ever so slightly to let my blood run though again. He glanced down to his shirt, adjusting it with his free hand while for a split second he looked at our hands, but was quick to regain himself.

“We had a little trouble.” Jeno downshifted his head in greeting and took us up to the back of the hall, eyes glued to us as I felt it behind my back, suppressing the urge to turn around and go, “Stop being weirded out for God’s sake!” Jeno gripped my wrist tighter, as if he felt my irritation through his touch. We sat down next to each other, the professor continuing after far too long of a silence.

“You’re getting me gummy bears for what you did today.” Jeno whispered in a coarse tone, his throat sounding dry. I giggled and nodded my head, taking out my materials while he did the same. “Cute.” Jeno stopped his actions, turning his head slowly while I continued. “Why?”

“Just...” I wandered, thinking about how to come up with an excuse to something I accidentally let out. But who am I kidding? I’m not one to hide my feelings anyway. “I just think it’s cute that you have a huge love for gummies and jellies. Like a kid.” I shrugged and leaned back in my seat, wanting to focus on my professor but couldn’t shake the fact of how I could clearly see Jeno holding his stare on me in my peripheral decision for a long minute before adverting his eyes down the hall.

Jeno looked down at his phone, the confirmation of the transfer being made. It was a huge sum of money that could last him ages. To be honest, he felt that it wasn’t hard taking care of her at all. Her mother made it sound a hundred times worst. But she seemed fine and genuinely normal around Jeno, just the fact that she liked to joke around and slack. With Jeno’s light push, she could immediately spring back into action.

However, he couldn’t help but think that what he’s doing was wrong. Jeno was forming a relationship with her for the sole purpose of getting money. Worst part, she didn’t even knew about the deal he had with her mother. It was to be kept a secret. And Jeno didn’t like it, he felt the guilt building up inside him each time they met up, having to gather up courage to face her. To top it all off, the guilt only grew larger till it became a huge monster the moment he realised that he was falling for her.

For the end of our semester, we had to do a project. And unfortunately for me, or maybe not, it was a group project. After class ended, I was about to sprint up to Jeno, who was sitting at the very front today to be more attentive about the briefing for the project, every single girl in the hall went up and surrounded him as if they were swallowing him whole.

“Let me be your partner, Jeno!” “I’ll do the project well with you!” “I’m your best bet to scoring!”

I almost had a migraine constantly hearing their shrieks and screaming of the girls trying to get Jeno’s attention. Meanwhile, he forced a smile on his face, it was obvious that he was being suffocated and was desperate to teleport himself out of the hall. I couldn’t help but let out a subtle giggle, watching him suffer as I felt the energy of his blood boiling like hot air could burst from his ear any moment, but he was able to keep a neutral face the whole time. He knew how to manage his anger.

I watched the chaos, sighing to myself in a somewhat satisfactory manner. Jeno pushed through the crowd, trying his hardest to squeeze his way through. He turned around and lifted both his hands up in the air like he was being arrested. All the girls grew silent instantly at his action. “Sorry but I’m doing this myself.” Jeno declared out loud. He made eye contact with me, causing me to lean back and pointing a finger to myself to check if he was actually motioning at me. He jerked his head to the door, signaling me to exit.

Jeno walked out and the silence among the group of girls suddenly became inaudible murmurs and whispering their heads off. I clicked my tongue, floating like a balloon out of the lecture hall after.

“Everyone’s so desperate for you.” I said when I caught up to Jeno who was taking slow steps. “Ut was fun watching you suffer there. I could tell you were about to burst at any second.” I laughed out loud, putting my humour right up Jeno’s face. “Are you working with anyone for the project?” Jeno questioned me.

I kept a straight and boring expression. “Don’t feel like working with anyone.” I gaped my mouth open, a sudden idea popping up as my face slowly turned to a mischievous expression with the smile of the cheshire cat. “Do you perhaps want to-” 

“I’m not working with you because I know you well enough to know that you’ll make me do majority of the work. Even if I did work with you, you know me well enough to know that I’ll force you to do your work. Actually that applies to both you wanting and not wanting to work with me-”

“You didn’t even let me finish my sentence!” I growled with exasperation. Jeno’s face softened and turned kind, a look I rarely see on him. “Oh then what is it?” I kept silent for a moment. “want to work with me for the project...?” I uttered, it was barely audible. Jeno breathed out a chuckle. “Nice try. I’ll be supervising to make sure you’re on task anyways. It’s a shame I have to deal with your ass almost everyday.” I puckered my lips in question, eyebrows furrowed till it knitted together. “Why do you have to take care of me? Like why was I any of your business in the first place?”

Jeno kept a straight face, sudden anxiousness triggered in him as she asked the question. He wished he could tell her everything, but he knew far too well the consequences if it, and jeopardizing whatever relationship they had would never be an option. “Because I’m the president? I have to take care of new students, you know.” I questioning face grew back to my bored one, puffing my cheeks and blowing the air out, flippantly.  “Whatever.” I replied quickly as we went our separate ways after making a decision to meet someday at the student council’s office to start on our project.

Weeks past, and though I dreaded doing the project in the first place, I was shocked at how much I completed. However, with Jeno being extremely particular about my work so that I’d do well, I had to write up a proposal on my overall project for him. On a Saturday night. I didn’t know what came over me, but I had the feeling of wanting to get drunk. The work I did for the past weeks had led to me having constant mental breakdown, whining to myself just when could I get my break. And again, with Jeno having an invisible knife to my throat to make sure I did my work, break time seemed to never be in my to-do list.

I took a trip back home to steal a bottle of wine. Back at the dorm, I looked at the time. It was too early to get drunk, but I barely cared about that at all, opening the wine bottle and pouring it into the one wine glass I had. I didn’t use it to drink wine, but rather other sweet drinks and water for the sole purpose of wanting to feel fancy and have the timiest bit of class in this rundown dorm. I sat at my laptop, the white blank space staring at me while I stared back, slowly bringing the glass up to my lips to take a sip. I gulped it down, sighing in satisfaction. I began to write my proposal, thinking I’d be able to finish and send it to Jeno before I got drunk off the wine. How dumb was I to think my body could even do that?

It was late at night. Jeno in his dorm while trying to fix up and improve bits and pieces of his presentation for thr project. He had completed it long ago to be honest, he just needed to add a few things to turn it up a notch in terms of quality. Suddenly, on the bottom right corner of his screen popped up an email notification from her, the title being “A very well planned out proposal.” Jeno laughed for a moment, finger to his lip with his eyebrows raised. He felt the sarcasm through the words.

Grabbing a hold of his mouse, he brought the cursor over to the notification to open it, which led him to Google Docs where she typed out the proposal. Jeno sat up straight as a way to wake his mind up from the tired night he’s had up till now and began reading. He scanned his eyes over the paragraphs and taking barely seconds to expertly analyse them. It had been good so far, till it got to the last few paragraphs. Jeno noticed how some words had gone distorted, it seemed like she was typing gibberish, typing in a lazy and careless manner. Jeno could make out a few words, but the rest was far from recognisable. Then came the last paragraph, which shocked him the most.

HEsyu njEmo! i fELt dlike assduddely sddayubg thajis bjjfut weoek youyre veiry hot!! losike smkoingf baiiyy i likele yuori a hmklott!!! buit i knbow youre onkly beving kind to nr cauyse touyre onldjyy doiubg yourh jobbv as jhe phresibdrnt :$(((

Jeno squinted his eyes while looking at it. It can’t be what he thought it could be, right? Was he being delusional? Was he making up the meaning of the words to what he hoped to be? Jeno noticed his heart suddenly racing at a rapid pace, eyes reading it over and over again to come up with any other possible meaning behind it to deny his conclusion.

Though, after long thought, Jeno unconsciously had a smile on his face, his head tilting down to the table for a moment before looking up at the screen, his smile pursing his lips together tightly while shaking his head. “Cute.” Jeno whispered, letting out a long sigh before going back to the top of the proposal to add in his comments.

I went to our usual meetup spot. Luckily it was hours into the day, and I had time to recover from my hangover. I shocked myself this morning as I saw the bottle of wine fully empty, down to the last drop. How was I even capable of that? Whatever it was, I didn’t remember a single thing that happened last night. I assured myself that I didn’t do anything stupid since I woke up in bed, as per usual, just with a terrible headache with the room being the same as when I stepped in.

I swung open the door, lazily sliding my bag off my shoulder and to the table, pushing it aside while Jeno had his eyes on his laptop. “How’s my proposal?” Jeno shot his eyes up. “Did you not bother reading over once you were done?” Jeno questioned in a low, intimidating voice as if he could pounce on you at any second.

I sucked in my lips, a sound coming out when I placed my lips back to its normal position as I shook my head slowly with inability to show even the slightest confidence. I couldn’t be arrogant anymore around Jeno. He had a power over me that I never knew anyone could have. “Uh no?” Jeno hummed casually, leaning back into his seat nonchalantly, something about his light attitude making me scared as I began to think over what I had done wrong with my proposal.

“So you didn’t know what you did to it?” Jeno asked again, the interrogation feeling nestled in me as unknown fear piled up in me. I raised my shoulders questionably. “What’s wrong with it?!” I groaned out, tired of having him question me while I worried my ass off. “I added comments to it. Some things I added can help your presentation next week so make sure to go over it.” Jeno rose form his seat, gathering uo everything on the table and placing it in his bag. He casually slug it over one shoulder, walking away. Before he left however, he turned around and said, “Your last paragraph was cute by the way.”

Upon the door being closed, I instantly took out my laptop from my bag frantically, opening up the proposal that had Jeno’s notes on it. I scrolled all the way down till the last paragraph, wanting to faint as the sight of the red words below it and whatever nonsense I had typed out while I was drunk. “Please submit a more professional write up next time. Don’t be stupid to drink while you’re doing work.” I read over his words. I shrieked, the kind that was inaudible as I scrunched my hair up while balling fists into my hair. I shook my body around, embarrassment being the only feeling in my mind at that moment, as well as the rest of the night ahead.

It finally came to presentation day. And as expected, Jeno was chosen to come up first. He set up his slides, turning his head to it to make sure it was being shown clearly before looking back to his audience. His posture was upright and firm, confidence being dominated in him as he began presenting. Sure, I was listening to what he’s been talking about, but I was more so focused on Jeno himself. The way he expertly articulated his movements and words imbued with much passion. It’s as if he’s done it for years, like a high knowledged ornator. There was of course his beauty to admire in the midst of it all as well.

“_____. Why don’t you go?” The professor turned his upper body to me, the students still clapping loudly, and screams mostly coming from the girls while Jeno took his seat. I stood up, making my way down. The hall suddenly got pin drop silent. The whole time I presented, my eyes felt the urge to always glance to Jeno. Though I thought he’d have a serious look on his face, it was more of a soft and gentle one, a look that gave me reassure to push on. It warmed my heart and gave me a confidence boost almost instantly each time I looked to him.

“You did good.” Jeno admitted, a wide smile forming on his lips. I smiled back. “You did way better. I loved yours a lot.” I complimented, I was almost skipping due to how pumped up I felt after class. “Mm do you mean my presentation or me?” Jeno looked down on me and I looked back, eyes widened at his sudden comment. Jeno laughed it off, waving a lazy hand in my face. “Forget I said anything.”

Surprisingly, Jeno agreed to head out to a candy shop to congratulate ourselves for the hardwork we’ve done. And must I say, Jeno completely lit up. He was bright, bubbly, his subtle humor making me like him more and more. I couldn’t shake the face that we were hanging out like this, like we weren’t stuck in a box where Jeno was all stone and harsh on me. He radiated an energy that no one would have thoughg even existed. Turns out I just had to talk to him for it to show. And gummy bears.

Jeno and I were walkign down the same path on our way back. However, Jeno informed me that he had somewhere to be. I didn’t bother asking where, simply letting out a, “Wherever you’re going, don’t be out for too long!” Jeno flashed an eye smile and waved with an adorably low laugh, nodding his head. I walked away, but I noticed how Jeno was simply standing there, as if waiting for someone. He said he needed to go somewhere. Was he taking a cab or something?

I didn’t know why but curious came flooding my mind. I didn’t know how I suddenly got this intrigued by what he does off campus and whatever he’s doing outside of our friendship. As a person who liked him, it wasn’t wrong to be curious, right? Luckily, I wasn’t far off when I walked away so I turned a corner to hid myself there. Jeno waited there for at least fifteen minutes, my legs growing numb from having myself glued to the wall. Just when I wanted to walk away, a person came walking up to him, which he responded with a raise of his hand in greeting. Specifically it was a woman. My eyes almost fell out of their sockets the moment I realised who it was. What was my mother doing with Jeno?

I leaned in, my ear hoping to pick up every single word and my eyes looking at their every action. “A bonus. You’ve been doing well. You’re exceptional indeed.” My mother held out a large bag that looked extremely heavy. Jeno had one hand in his pocket, using his free hand to take it. He tilted his head down. “What’s with the physical cash? You always did online transfers.” Cash? Online transfers? What were they doing? Billions of questions flashed in my mind, I couldn’t be hearing this correctly. Were they dealing on something? Underground business I know nothing about?

“I’m suprised you’re able to hold her down for a time longer than I have seen her stay in one school. Whatever did you do to have her tamed?” Jeno chuckled, glancing down to the feet before meeting my mother’s eyes again. “Asserted dominance. Simple. Though I’ve always been like that, just needed to step up a little and showed her who’s boss.” Jeno folded his arm, shoulders relaxed and talking far too casually.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Who else could they be talking about but me? Was Jeno being paid to be with me? Is that why he’s been giving me so much attention, so much care all this time. It was all for money... He did it for the money. “Also, I’ve confirmed a spot for you in the University. Just like you wanted.” My mother said. I saw how Jeno flashed a smile. My anger was boiling my blood to the highest of temperatures to even analyse and dig deeper into his actions. All I cared about was the fact that everything was a lie. From the moment I met him. It was all a show.

We were at the park, cold wind brushing against our exposed skin as the night gets itself comfortable, the stars beginning to shine and twinkle over the black canvas of the sky. I looked down from it, looking to Jeno who had his head cozily on my lap. I brushed my fingers through his hair gently, an action I’ve been doing for hours now.

Our relationship didn’t have a definite label on it. We didn’t know who we were. We let the waters flow, taking us to whichever direction it wanted. It just so happened that our feelings for each other sprouted naturally to the point where we didn’t have to say it out loud. Gradual actions of affection began and we simply liked that what we had was unsaid. It was easy, no trouble, no harm whatsoever.

“Jeno.” I whispered. Jeno fluttered his eyes open. He told me how he couldn’t help but fall asleep at my touch. “What would you do if I disappeared the next day?” I questioned, trying my hardest to make it less vague then it already was, though it failed, Jeno giving a look quizzically. “I’d be too sad to even function.” Jeno replied after a long pause of silence. And at the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but think Is what you’re saying even true? I kept questioning myself about his every action, every sign of love and care he showed. What happened that day months ago was still as clear as day in my memory, which only made me doubt Jeno’s feelings for me everyday.

“Would you really?” I asked again, this time looking at him right in his eyes, prying myself into his heart and soul through them to find that slither of truth glistening under. Jeno pouted, blinking his eyes like a lost puppy. “Of course. Why would you even ask that in the first place?” I mentally replied though I gave him silence as a response, “Because I’ll be leaving your fake ass soon.”

I rummaged through the cards in my parent’s room, finding desperately for a credit card I could use. After retrieving one, I went to my room, taking out a suitcase from under my bed and immediately started packing. I shoved everything I could think of bringing off the top of my head. If I didn’t have something, I could simply buy it at London. All I wanted was to get out of this country. Out of this life, out of Jeno’s life. I couldn’t stand bring treated like some object in a deal of responsibility.

I made my way to the airport in a cab. While I was on the road, I called the only person I knew who lived in London. “Taeyong, I’m moving to London. Free up your apartment because I’ll staying with you.” “Wait what? Hey-” I ended the call before he could even finish. I looked out the window. No regrets, no guilt was holding down my heart. It felt weird at first. But now I knew that the reason why I felt this way was because of the fact I had given Jeno all my love. Whether his was fake or not, I’ve given my whole share of the relationship.

Jeno was laying on his bed when the woman’s number suddenly popped up on his phone screen. Curious at the sudden call, he instantly picked it up. “What?” He asked in an unintentionally rude manner. “_____. She’s going to the airport. Our maid just informed us. I don’t know where she’s going, but please stop her.” She sounded frantic, anxious. Jeno instantly sprung up from his bed and rushed out his dorm, planning to steal Ten’s motorbike to rush his way to the airport.

Jeno got off the motorbike after speeding through so many cars and having the constant urge to go over the speed limit just so he could reach there faster. He didn’t knew where she was, but he was determined to find her. And most of all, hoped that she has yet to fly.

Jeno kept his eyes wide open, scanning through the large area constantly as he tried to find where she was. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. It was all to sudden. Why did she decide to go abroad without letting him know? Of all people but him? He understood if she didn’t inform her parents, but Jeno was the only person she said she trusted the most. She couldn’t be leaving out of nowhere. It took him seconds to spot her in the busy area. He ran up to her, seeing how she had a large luggage on her side while she leaned against it casually and having her passport in her hand. “_____! Where are you going?!” Jeno shouted, gripping her wrist and turning her around.

I flinched at the sudden contact, hearing Jeno’s voice right behind me and he spun me around to face him. How did he even know I was here? Ah of course, my mother somehow knew though I wanted to make my leave as discreet as possible. I removed myself out of Jeno’s grasp, wincing at how tight he was holding my wrist. “You don’t need to know where.” I simply answered, but he shook his head furiously. “Tell me why!” Jeno pleaded. I saw the look in his eyes, the look of fear and pain while he got a hold of my wrist again. I let go. “Is my mother going to pay you more if you stopped me from leaving?”

I walked past him, seeing the time to board my flight blinking and signaling the people to get moving. I turned around after walking a far distance, flicking up my passport and tilting my head. I noticed how Jeno wanted to move, take a step towards me but had something in him that held him back, like he was unwillingly rooted to the ground. From a far distance I could tell Jeno’s pupils dilated at the sight of me taking steps back and growing smaller out of his view.

“Ciao.” I mouthed before turning away relentlessly There’s no turning back, was all i thought. With the money I had, I could go anywhere in the world as I pleased, anywhere that would get me away from this place and the person who broke my heart. I did say I didn’t feel anything, but as I went to board the plane, not bothering to turn back and take one last look at Jeno, the tears came out without a second thought. I tried my hardest to keep myself together. But right when we took flight, it came to my senses of what I was doing.

It took awhile to realise that she was gone, with Jeno being in a trance while she left. She was out of his sight, and he’ll never know for how long. After the day she went, Jeno was broken. So broken, that he couldn’t do anything. He holed himself in his room for days on end, not having a single energy to lift himself out of bed. He knew it from the start, this situation being inevitable. He didn’t think that she would mean this much to him the moment he accepted the deal. He kept telling himself that it wasn’t his fault, that he didn’t expect their relationship to grow and mean so much. But he couldn’t believe himself, denying it everytime he thought about it.

“For how long are you going to keep talking to me about this?”

Taeyong ran a frustrated hand through his hair, my eyes boring at him as he paced back and forth in front of me in the living room. I couldn’t help but wonder just how long he wanted to keep this up.

“Two years. Two damn years you’ve been staying here in London.” He turned a sharp ninty degrees to face me, his body leaning forward slightly. “Don’t get me wrong I like that you’re here but you have a whole life that you left behind. On an impromptu decision might I add.” I stared at him blankly, showing my careless attitude by sinking into the couch and folding my arms with placing one leg over the other. “I don’t care. I’m living well here so I don’t see why I have to go back.”

“You told me about Jeno. Do you not miss him at all?” That question got me to look down as it sunk into my mind, thoughts about it began to surface. Taeyong probably noticed the thoughtful look on my face, adding on with, “Think about it. He made that simple deal at first without knowing his relationship with you would expand so much more from when it first started. Did you not bother to think about what went through his mind when you left so unexpectedly? From what you told me, he certainly loves you. Not sure if he still does though, being real here.” Taeyong shrugged flippantly, not giving a care to shoot his words right at my heart and being real with me.

“But he didn’t stop the deal even when he developed feelings for me. What does that show?” Though I retorted back, I felt it. Taeyong’s words that I mulled over firing at me, even with the bulletproof vest that I had on for the two years, the bullets went right through them, shooting me dead as I bleed and thought about all the memories I had with Jeno. It only now occured to me that I truly did miss him, I was simply pretending I didn’t and tried living my best life here in London, wanting to push away the fact that I’ve never had a better life than back there with Jeno. “You have to go back someday, _____.” Taeyong sat down next to me, placing a firm hand on my shoulder. “And talk to Jeno.”

I couldn’t believe that I was back here. It felt weird, somewhat out of place. But I also belonged here. Everything washed over me and crashed like a huge wave. I had always wished that I didn’t need to come back, but my heart was slowly growing its need for it, its need for Jeno, though I had been strong for the first few months away.

I gulped my nervousness down my throat, standing in front of what I assumed to be Jeno’s apartment since my mother was so kind to inform me where he lived after giving me an earful of leaving for two years and never informing me where. Weird how they never forced me back. I knew they were capable of it with their connections here in London. I guess they never bothered to reach out and find me.

I rang the doorbell, my heart slowly increasing its pace as it thumbed against my ribcage, begging to burst out. I took in deep breaths, waiting patiently while I hoped for Jeno to be at the other side. After about close to a minute, the door creaked open, Jeno was standing in front of me. I forced myself to look him in the eyes as I inspected him. He didn’t change at all. Surprisingly, the hair colour was kept the same. The light blue that made me remember the first time he walked into class with it, capturing all the light and attention of the hall. He still had that figure of someone who worked out often, a nice physique. I didn’t take me long to notice that physically, nothing has changed.

“Um, I know this is unexpected. I’m sorry for leaving unexpectedly. I’m sorry for leaving without giving you any explanation whatsoever. I’m sorry-” I wanted to continue, wanting to let it all out right then and there till Jeno pulled me into a hug by the waist, bringing both hands up to wrap them tightly around my shoulder, his head digging into the crook of my neck as I felt him inhale against my skin, his breath brushing over it after. It took me awhile to process, gradually bringing my arms up to hug his torso, pulling ourselved closer and letting ourselves fall into each other’s embrace.

“Please, let me talk.” Jeno whispered to me. He kept a long silence after, allowing us to admire this moment. Perhaps he couldn’t believe that I was here, the fact that I left and came up unexpectedly, out of the blue. I felt the mixed emotions in his words. “I’m sorry for making that deal with your mother. I thought it was something I’d do for the sake of the money. I know you felt hurt at the fact that I did it behind your back. But I did it for you. I took care of you for your own good. I kept receiving the money, but it slowly grew meaningless when I began to like you.” Jeno rubbed his nose against my neck, though it felt ticklish, I kept my calm, wanting to focus on his words.

I pulled away, my hands still around his torso but allowing a gap between our bodies. I looked up to him, a frown forming on my face. The tears became to well up upon the sudden emotional roller coaster ride. My eyes trailed from his eyes, and gradually down to his lips after looking at every inch of his face, admiring them greatly as I began to remember why I fell for him in the first place. With or without the money, my feelings for him had never changed, no matter how buried deep into my heart they were.

“I never said this before... And I’m sorry for telling you now...” I reached up to meet his face, having to tiptoe my way up. Jeno giggled softly at my action, dipping his head down to save me from his struggle. I pouted, flicking my eyes from his one eye to the other. I then moved to his lips, smooth and glossy. It was obvious he wore chapstick.

“But I love you, Lee Jeno. I didn’t feel the need to say it back then, we were simply showing it with our affections. But I really do love you. It’s a bit too late to say it so I’m sorry. If you’ve ever lost feeling for me even the slightest bit. But I promise my love is still true and pure, no matter what you did.” I quietly whisper, my face so close to him that my lips were hovering over his, just barely touching and urging our lips to connect.

Just like that, our lips touched, a kiss was made. His lips fit perfectly to mine, like the world made it that way. Suddenly, everything came into focus. The invisible stars aligned. Everything felt so right, so perfect, with him holding me close. Jeno began to kiss me, as slow as ever and with much care and love. We closed our eyes, as if never wanting to leave this. I didn’t know how long we were standing there, lips never wanting to part. But sooner or later we did, me having to pull away first.

“My love for you never changed either. I waited, and I missed you too much to forget what we had.” Jeno breathed out, his chest going up and down against mine as he breathed heavily. I giggled, looking down in embarrassment as my cheeks to began to blush an obvious pink. “That was our first kiss.”

Jeno arched a brow quizzically. “Was it? It felt like we’ve been doing it forever.”

[joheun-saram]

“Is your refrigerator running?” (jjk)

Summary- Who knew the annoying prank calls you were receiving would become the favourite part of your day.

word count- 4.2k

pairing- fratboy!Jungkook x Reader

rating- PG-13

genre- fluff, collegeau

warnings- none! just stupid jokes.

a.n- Part of my drabbles for @btsholidaybingo​, ticking off the Prank Calls tile! I’ll be posting these every week or so as I get them done. Check out the other drabbles here :)

s/o to the beautiful @heyitsmeee2​ for beta reading and helping me fix the ending! 💕

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

-

“So how’s your new boyfriend?” Namjoon asked you as you chewed on your fries, almost choking at his insinuition. He laughs at you as he takes a sip of his milkshake, slurping obnoxiously, his eyes widening as he concentrates on the flavour.

“Stop! He’s just a random guy with too much time on his hands! I don’t even know his name! Although...” You stared at your burger, trying to forget what your roommate was alluding to. Two months ago you had started getting phone calls from a stranger. It wasn't something from a horror movie, don't worry. It was harmless. He would call you at random times in the day to ask you silly questions. You don’t know how he even got your number but there was something about his easy going nature and lame jokes that made you want to continue talking to him. Namjoon suspected it was a byproduct of your loneliness, but it was comforting hearing his voice to break through your mundane day to day. 

"Hi, is this Y/N?" A deep voice spoke as you picked up the call from an unknown number.

"Yes this is she. Who is this?" You asked as you sat up straighter, your attention diverting from the paper you were writing. You had applied to eight jobs for after graduation and you were sure this was a call for an interview, even though it was 10 pm. Your eyes lit up as you hoped this was the big consulting firm you were waiting to hear from.

"I have a very important question that I was hoping you could help me with."

"Um.. sure go ahead." You fiddled with your pen, scribbling random shapes on your notebook, feeling somewhat nervous. Is this how employers usually talked? Did they do this to build anticipation?

"Is your refrigerator running?"

"I'm sorry what?"

"Is your refrigerator running?" 

"Are you calling on behalf of the landlord?" Your voice was flat with disappointment. Surely, this was not an important question. Oh how you wished it was an interview call. You sighed.

"Please answer my question."

"Yes. It's running."

"Then you better go catch it, shouldn't you?"

And with that he hung up and you were baffled. Which decade was this dude from? Who does these lame prank calls anyway and more importantly why does your caller ID not show who it is? Thinking nothing of it, you go about finishing your assignment, albeit slightly aggravated. However, the calls continue. Everyday this stranger would call you with questions, sometimes with a silly punchline but oftentimes even sillier riddles.

"Okay, dude seriously. This is getting annoying." You huffed after a week and a half of receiving calls from the same deep voiced stranger, although you’d be lying if you said his little laugh after he told his jokes was not endearing.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to annoy you." He seemed hurt and you couldn’t fathom why he would be hurt over a comment a stranger made over his prank calls. In fact, you were sure this was some hobby of his and he had a rotation of strangers to bother.

"Can you at least tell me your name?" You don’t know why you were indulging him, but you had to give him props for constantly calling you. It was kind of becoming part of your daily routine.

"Dixie. My name's Dixie." You could hear the mirth in his tone.

"Dixie? Oh I thought you were a dude, my bad."

"I can be a dude and still have Dixie as my name. Jeez, are you a bigot?" He scolded.

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't mean it that way, Dixie."

"That's Dixie Normus to you." He laughed at his joke, every syllable of his laugh separated as if he was a cartoon character.

"Oh my god. You're the worst!" Regardless of your words, you were laughing. Laughing hard enough to have the banana milk you were drinking to snort out of your nose, making you cough. For a moment, you were glad this stranger wasn't in the room.

"Sorry! Are you okay?" You could hear the humour in his words, shading them in anything but an apology.

And so it went, your mysterious caller, who refused to go by anything other than Dixie turned into a somewhat friend, if you can even call someone who you know no personal details about your friend. After a month the phone calls had turned from cringe worthy puns to actual conversations about your day. You had started to look forward to the unknown flashing on your screen, and sharing the mundane details of your day with Dixie.

In two months you learned a lot more about Dixie. He went to your university, he was an avid gamer, he majored in computer science, and apparently it was now part of his daily routine to call you whenever he was cooling down from his workout on the treadmill - explaining the creepy breathlessness of his voice and beeps in the background. Sometimes you had half a mind to go to the university gym during your calls and see your mysterious friend, but somehow you never found the courage. It was nice not knowing what Dixie looked like, not judging someone by their looks but just by the content of their words. There was no room for disappointment.

It also oddly comforted you that you would never meet him and during your nightly conversations you would end up sharing thoughts that you’d be too uncomfortable sharing with even your best friends. Thoughts about the uncertainty you had over graduating soon, thoughts about being sad over failed relationships, even thoughts about your random existential crisis that would plague you mid week. Dixie was empathetic and had a knack for comforting you with small jokes and his own struggles. You would never admit it to Namjoon, but Dixie was slowly becoming your closest friend, even surpassing him to a certain extent.

"You're insane you know that?" Namjoon chided as you talked about Dixie and how you considered him a friend now. Even though Namjoon was your best friend since first grade, he sometimes didn't understand why you romanticised daily events so much. He never understood why you kept giving Dixie the benefit of the doubt, why you kept picking up his phone calls even when you knew it was going to be a lame joke or two.

"I'm not insane Joon! Haven't you heard of pen pals? This is the same thing but with voice."

"Nah. I think it's your crippling loneliness. Which is why we're going to Jin's frat party tonight." Namjoon was not having any of your excuses. So what if your last relationship was a year ago. You and Yoongi were great together. He was the perfect boyfriend and after he went to LA to pursue his music career, you told him you'd wait. Turns out he wasn't on the same page as you since six months after moving, he called you to break things off. He was right though, it would have been stupid to wait for him when neither of you knew when and even if he was ever coming back. It was unfair to the both of you to keep dragging this thing along. But even if Yoongi hadn't been around the last year and a half, you just couldn't see yourself with anyone else. You still missed talking to him every night and sharing your day, laughing at stupid videos together or just listening to him playing the piano through the static line of your phone. Maybe Namjoon was right. Maybe you were lonely and the only reason you were so attached to Dixie was because of the way his phone calls had replaced Yoongi's and how you no longer waited at the end of your day staring at your phone waiting for your ex's call but instead you received real actual calls from your voice pen pal.

You sighed agreeing with Namjoon and went home, not exactly looking forward to the party and missing Dixie’s call.

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

Jin's frat was notorious for the wildest parties on campus. It was always a cacophony of drunk students and a pit of hedonism. When Namjoon and you arrived, the party was in full swing and you thanked your best friend for having the foresight of pre-drinking. The bottle of grapefruit soju you had emptied earlier at your shared apartment ensured that you were not put off by the plethora of drunk guys trying to hit on you microseconds after you entered.

Looking for Jin and let's be honest, a little gin as well, you and Namjoon made your way to the kitchen, to be greeted by your tall friend doing a keg stand. Beer dripped down his chin as his fraternity brothers held him up, his feet almost touching the ceiling. As you poured yourself a gin and tonic, Jin climbed down from the keg to a chorus of applause. Much to your chagrin, he walked over, draping his arms around your shoulders and plastering your back with his beer soaked chest.

"Ew get off me you vermin!" You squealed, shivering in the gross feeling, your backless top doing nothing to shield you from your friend’s shirt as he refused to budge.

"Vermin? VERMIN?! I invite you to my house, give you free drinks, and an array of decent dicks to pick from and I'm the vermin?" Jin finally detaches, giving you a scowl as he leans against the kitchen island, pouring himself what you gather is his tenth drink of the night.

"Jin all of these guys are as gross as you. And I've told you I don't need to get laid!"

"Sure tell that to your vibrator working overtime."

"How did you even - " you sputered, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Namjoon, obviously. And before you kill him, there are no secrets between friends and part-time lovers." He winked, making you roll your eyes. Namjoon and Jin had been on and off since the beginning of freshmen year, neither the type for commitment but to your dismay loved to tell you all about their rollercoaster of a relationship. You swear you could write a thesis on dysfunctional relationships using theirs as a case study.

"Ew. Please stop. I don't need to know about you and Joon getting it on."

"Well then let me introduce you to someone so you can get it on." He wiggled his eyebrows puckering his lips to annoy you. 

"I know all your brothers Jin and no thank you." You lightly slapped his lips making him groan as he grabbed your wrist continuing his tirade. You’d be lying if you said his frat brothers had never caught your eye - they were famous for their astoundingly good looks, in fact there even seemed to be an instagram page dedicated to people randomly spotting them on campus (@betatauinthewild). However, their good looks did not make up for the fact that they were a bunch of loud fuckboys. You loved Jin and Namjoon and would literally stab anyone who said anything against them but you had to agree that they were the biggest players of the group, finding a new person to bed almost every weekend. That is, unless they were with each other - case and point their dysfunctional relationship.

"Well we have a new brother and he's my little brother. He's a sophomore, he just joined, and he's your type. The whole quiet but nice guy type." Jin continued, ignoring you in typical fashion.

"I don't have a type."

"Please! As if Yoongi wasn’t a cookie cutter tsundere. Come on let me introduce you to him!" He grabbed your shoulder and pleaded, pouting and widening his eyes in the most adorable puppy dog face you had seen him pull.

"Can we not talk about Yoongi please." You sighed. You finished your drink and proceeded to pour another one. 

"Yes! Let's talk about JK!"

"Jin... come on. Let's just drink okay?"

"Fine but I'm telling you, you'll get along. He's a great guy."

An hour into the party, you had lost both Jin and Namjoon and were getting tired of Jin’s exceedingly drunk frat brothers trying their pick up lines of the day on you. Your head was hurting from the noise of the party and you were sure if you saw another couple subtly trying to test their exhibitionism kink you were going to puke. So as it was typical for whenever you went to these parties, you started to make your way to Jin’s room. Jin may be loud and obnoxious and being lusted after by pretty much the entire campus, but he was reliable for one thing: he never fucked where he slept. And so his room became a sort of sanctuary for you when these parties would get too much.

You made your way up the stairs almost tripping over two guys who had decided that making out horizontally on the stairs was a good idea - you did not envy how busted their backs would be tomorrow. Punching in the code you walked in to find that there was already someone there, reclined on the bed with his arms behind his head, earphones in, humming gently as he stared at the ceiling. You had never seen him before, but boy did you wish you did. His dark hair was splayed over the pillows, a smile ghosting his full lips. He was dressed in all black, much like you but unlike your lace bodysuit and skinny jeans, he was wearing a boxy back t shirt with ripped jeans, his feet in those questionable toe socks. And he was buff, even though his body was mostly covered you could make out the muscle in his arms, one of which had intricate tattoos etched on to. You’re unaware how long you stared at this stranger, but suddenly he turns his face looking at you. Seeing you there he immediately jumps up, pulling his earphones out, startling you in turn.

“I- I’m sorry. Y-you can’t be h-here,” he stutters out, a soft blush rising up his cheeks as he nervously pulls at his ear.

“I should be saying that to you. Why are you in Jin’s room?” You shut the door, leaning on it, feeling oddly territorial.

“I- Hyung needed my room.” You found the stuttering boy in front of you endearing. Something about how he bashfully stared at anything but you while speaking made you want to hug him. 

“Oh my god! You let him into your room? Drunk during a party?” You almost scream, but lower your voice seeing the alarm on his face. Walking over, you sat next to him, a few feet away so as not to make him uncomfortable. “Do you like doing laundry or something?” you joked.

Hearing your question the boy perks up, looking at you with a bright smile that made your heart skip a beat. “I do actually! How did you know?” he asks excitedly. You almost felt bad bursting his bubble.

“I didn’t… It’s just - you know Jin’s probably having sex in there right?” You look at the abject horror on his face in sympathy, so you try to change the subject. “Nevermind. Why are you hiding in here?”

“I’m not hiding. I just got bored. Everyone there just wants to hook up or get blackout drunk.”

“You do realise which frat you’re part of right?”

“I know,” he chuckles, seemingly more relaxed as he lays down on the bed, his feet still on the floor. “I honestly didn’t even wanna join but I’m a legacy so my dad really wanted me to be a part of it, Beta Tau pride and all.”

“Not to be a bitch, but dude you sound like a protagonist of a shitty college romcom,” you laugh looking down at him as he smiles, crossing your legs on the bed as you turn towards him, forcing yourself to ignore how cute he looks from this angle.

“You think you’re being a bitch, but that's a great compliment. I wish my life was a romcom. It’d be so easy…”

“Okay, emo. What’s wrong?”

“You’re going to think it’s dumb.”

“Hey I don’t even know your name! What have you got to lose?”

“Fine. There’s this girl I like and we always call each other… Well I call her.... at this time, but she didn’t pick up. So yes I’m emo, and yes I wish I was in a romcom so I’d go downstairs and randomly run into her.” He looks at you with a sad smile, shrugging slightly, and you feel yourself deflate. Not that you were interested in him or anything. You were sure it was just the alcohol in your system making you feel extra empathetic. Yup that’s it.

“Hey, that’s not stupid,” you say gently. “What if she’s down there did you check?”

“Well… I don’t actually know what she looks like… So, no…”

“Oh then maybe you should call her again! What if she was busy?”

“I don’t wanna be pushy, you know? I’m not even sure she thinks of me the same-”

“YO DIXIE! You in there?” A loud knock booms through the room accompanied by a deep voice. The attractive stranger next to you rolls his eyes before standing up, and at hearing his nickname you feel your heart kickstart, racing as you blink in disbelief. It can’t be…

“Dixie?” you stutter out.

“What’s up dude?” He opens the doors talking to Taehyung, one of the other Beta Tau brothers, as they start talking about something. You can barely hear their conversation, your brain full of scenarios and questions, your face crimson. You never thought you’d meet Dixie in real life. Do you tell him? Do you just run away? Why did he have to be so hot?!

Taehyung notices you on the bed for the first time and in typical fashion starts hollering and high-fiving Dixie. “Damn dude! The president’s best friend! Good for you!” He snickered as Dixie looked at him with his mouth agape, before turning to you. “Ay Y/N. Treat our boy JK well okay? He’s too nice for you!”

“Fuck off hyung!” JK, apparently that’s his name, shoves Taehyung as he grins widely before wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and shutting the door, seemingly getting all that he came for.

“You’re Dixie…?” You stare up at him, standing up as you try to control the overwhelming urge to wrap your hands around him. Fuck, maybe Joon was right you did have a crush on your voice pen pal.

“I- Y/N?” He looks at you, mirroring your wide eyes. “The same Y/N I’ve been talking to?”

“Call me,” you almost whisper.

“What?”

“Call me so I know it’s real.” You move closer holding your phone up as he pulls his out of his pocket to dial your number. Your phone rings, displaying a set of numbers instead of unknown for the first time, and the two of you just stare at the vibrating device in your hand. It seems like time stood still, the air thick with tension as your shitty ringtone bounces off the walls. That is until you start laughing. Not giggling, full on laughing, holding your stomach as tears spill down your face, as JK looks at you in alarm, his arms hovering near you as you double over.

“Holy shit! You are the protagonist of a romcom!” You finally wheeze out as you hold his arm for support, while he looks at you with a frown. You’re unsure why this was your reaction, but you recover quickly to start your interrogation.

“So what’s your name Dixie or JK?”

“Jungkook, actually. Dixie’s my gamertag and JK is just what Jin hyung calls me.”

“How did you get my number?”

“Umm… I might have stolen it from hyung’s phone…”

“Why?”

“Because he prank called my friends first.” He spoke with a pout, and you swear your heart forgot to function.

“Why keep calling?”

“Really Y/N? You’re gonna interrogate me?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Keep talking Dixie!” You chuckled as his shy demeanor gave way to the Dixie, well the Jungkook, you knew. It was weird how fast the earlier awkwardness dissipated into comfort.

“What? I thought you sounded pretty! Sue me!” He shrugged, leaning back against the door, his hands in his pocket. Your eyes followed the movement, momentarily distracted by how his forearms flexed. Clearing your throat, you continued as he smirked, not missing the way your eyes seemed to be roaming his body.

“You said you were trying to call the girl you like. So you like me?” You try to sound as matter of fact as you could, but your voice wavered slightly at the last part as you made the mistake of looking at his face. He tilted his head, causing his hair to fall into his eyes that were boring holes into you, his smirk getting larger. Oh how you wished he turned back into the boy talking about how much he liked laundry.

“I thought it was obvious. I call you every night.” He stood straight, taking a step towards you causing heat to creep up your face at his sudden confidence. You don’t respond as he moves closer, causing his steps to falter. “Do you like me?” he asks, his voice a little smaller. You’re getting whiplash from the changes in his tone, but his question makes you feel warm. You haven’t felt this way in a long time, there’s butterflies in your stomach, your hands feel clammy, and you’re sure you can feel the heat off his body, so aware of where he stands merely inches away from you.

“I think so…” you move closer and he raises his hand as if to hold your hip but stops, hovering just centimeters away as looks at you, his gaze smouldering.

“What’ll make you sure of it?” he asks in a whisper, and before you can even comprehend the question, you are leaning up on your toes to press a light kiss against his lips. His lips are slightly chapped and you’re sure he can feel your heartbeat through them. Your skin tingles where he brings his hand on your hip, gently holding you. He doesn’t push you further, just leans his forehead on yours when you separate to whisper quietly, “This.”

“And?” His nose brushes against yours as you place your hand on his chest, his pounding heart mimicking yours. He slowly rubs his hands on your hips where they lay, and it’s like your skin is electrified.

“I’m sure,” you say as he crashes his lips on yours, pulling you closer as your arms snake around his neck. His reaction is much stronger this time as he moves his lips against yours feverently. He pulls you flush against him, your body molding against his hard muscles. His hands grip at your hips as he licks lightly at your lip, groaning as they part. It seems like he can’t decide what to do with his hands, roaming them over your sides, relishing the little moan you make as one of them cups your ass. His earlier shyness disappears, and who are you to resist him, as your hands in his hair pull him closer. It’s like everything finally makes sense, why you could never ignore his calls, why your heart raced whenever you heard him call your name through the static of your speaker. You had spent this whole time convincing yourself that he was just a stranger you could vent to when it was clear to you now that you were falling for him.

He whispers your name as you break apart, but his mouth continues down your jaw to your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin. His teeth drag across your collarbone, and you whimper at the way he soothes it with his tongue as you press your body even closer into his.

“Hey Y/N! Joon’s looking for you!”

The two of you break apart at the interruption, chest heaving and faces flushed. Looking up at Jungkook, you smile as he looks away shyly, his lip caught between his teeth, before turning to your best friend who is excitedly hopping in the doorway.

“I knew you would get along with JK!” Jin exclaims as you look once again at Jungkook before you both break out in a laugh. Trust Jin to know who you’d fall for before you. He comes up to pat his frat brother on the shoulder before his proud smile turns into a glare, warning the two of you that his room was for sleeping only and abruptly kicking you out. 

The two of you giggle as you make your way downstairs, unable to keep your hands off of each other, going from holding hands to hugging to sneaking kisses in the kitchen as you make your drinks. Before the night ends the two of you end up sitting in the backyard, kissing under the stars and planning your first date later that week, even though it felt like you had known each other an eternity.

You had never felt luckier to pick up a random phone call.

[emilyoftheshadows]

Deja Vu

Hi! so this is a one-shot based off of olivia rodrigo's new song deja vu. It took a little longer than I thought to write, but here it is in all its questionable glory. Of course it is rowaelin because what else endgame couple would I write lol. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy!

wordcount// 1838

*****

Aelin felt sick to her stomach as she stared at her phone. The bright screen illuminated the disarray she had created around her. The bed covers were thrown recklessly around Aelin’s mattress, a package of half eaten oreos shoved between the twisted sheets. Bottles of alcohol were towered on the floor and nightstand, creating a maze that she had to maneuver around every time she left the softness of her bed. Tears stained Aelin 's cheeks, the sadness inside of her spilling out everytime she even thought of him. How his touch felt on her skin or how his lips used to kiss her forehead in comfort.

But all of that was over for her. Because he didn’t need her. Her love and her own problems only held him back, and Aelin knew it. She was a stain in Rowan’s perfect new life, and she would die before she let herself be the reason for any sadness he experienced.

So here she was, 6 months and 9 days after she had broken up with him. His face had been scrunched up in confusion, his emerald eyes glistening with tears as she had said her goodbyes. Aelin knew the breakup had hit him hard, but she consoled herself with the thought that once he got over their relationship, he would be free to live his dreams. Aelin would no longer be the unnecessary tether holding him back from his full potential.

Rowan had moved soon after the couple had ended university, taking a high end job at Maeve’s Publishing Co. in Doranelle. He had met his people, The Cadre as they were known to the locals. Working with his new team, Rowan had formed an unbreakable bond with the men he spent so much of his time with. As much as Rowan had found his new home in Doranelle, the opposite could be said for Aelin.

She had opted to stay in Rifthold, accepting her own high end job at Hamel Hotels working as their Brand Manager. At first, the glitz of the hotels and fast paced life had been exhilarating. That was until she had learned her boss was a demanding misogynist and occupied her time with insane projects and endless demands.

Her sour demeanor matched Rowan's exuberance head for head, and every visit she could see the concern etched in that beautiful face deepen with time. But when she went to visit Rowan in Doranelle, all Aelin saw was a makeshift family that he would have forever. The Cadre was working their way up in the publishing world, becoming an unstoppable force and you could practically feel the excitement buzzing throughout Rowan.

It was then when he was surrounded by his men eager for their future, that Aelin knew that she was a distraction. A miserable self loathing girlfriend who was holding him back from immersing himself into this new opportunity. So she took herself out of the picture, doing whatever was necessary to make sure he moved on from her.

She stopped answering his texts, let his endless calls go to voicemail, and unfollowed him on every social media site she had. After the third month, he finally stopped calling her everyday. The month after that, he stopped texting her. Although Aelin wanted this, she couldn’t help but be sad when she stopped getting his streams of i miss yous and hearts.

Aelin had gotten herself a dog after the breakup, focusing all her misguided love and intentions into the white beast that ate all her shoes and furniture. Using his pictures, she made an account for him and used this new anonymous account to stalk Rowan and his Cadre, plus the girl that used to occasionally join the men on their outings. Lyria was Maeve’s assistant and had been through just as much hell as they did, dealing with their bosses' incessant needs. Because of this, the crew often invited her out to the bars as a way to unwind from long days of work, sharing funny mishaps and complaining about Maeve together.

She told herself it was just to check up on him, to make sure he was okay, but she knew deep down that she could never fully separate herself from Rowan. This account was her only link to him, and as shady as it was, Aelin would be damned before she ever gave up the chance to get a glimpse into his life.

But as she focused on her phone, all previous thoughts for Rowan’s wellbeing flew out of her head. Because on Fleetfoot’s instagram feed, Lyria had posted a picture. The scene was innocent enough to any other person looking at it. She sat outside, the sun filtering in through the trees in the background of the photo. On the small table in front of her sat one cup of strawberry ice cream, a spoon poking out of the top of the scoop creating the picture perfect image. Her delicate hand with its perfectly manicured fingers grasped a tan hand almost twice the size of hers, emphasizing her petite features.

But that hand is what stopped Aelin in her tracks. Because as she looked at the post again, that hand led her to the face she adored most in the world. All too fast, she was consumed by his emerald green eyes, a hint of mischief shining in their center. His silver hair reflected the light around him, giving Rowan an ethereal glow as he posed for the camera. Other than slight dark circles under his eyes, he looked perfectly content. A soft smile graced his features and his clothes showed no clear stains or rumpled appearance.

Rowan was okay. He was absolutely fine. And Aelin was not.

Because whether he realized it or not, Rowan had recreated their own first date. As awkward college freshmen, the couple had gone to a family owned ice cream shop run by a friendly old man Emrys. They would return to that ice cream shop at least once a week after that first date, getting to know the owner and his partner Malaki. They had gotten strawberry ice cream, and Rowan had only asked for one spoon, insisting that he could just feed her himself whenever she wanted a bite. The buzzard didn’t even like sweets as much as she did, only wanting to make her suffer. They had sat on a bench outside the restaurant, laughing at how silly they both were and enjoying their newfound relationship. That memory used to always bring a smile to Aelin’s face, causing nostalgia for a simpler time in their lives. Looking at this recreation on her phone though, all Aelin wanted to do was scream in his face for how careless he was with their past.

That moment should belong to them, and them only. Her vision became blurred with tears, the image of his face distorting in front of her. All she could feel was a pit opening up inside her, clawing its way through her body until all she felt was numb. Her tears stopped running down her face, her hands stopped shaking, and she could finally breathe again. But Aelin no longer felt heartbroken for the bird boy who had made her dreams come true. No, all she felt was curiosity. A curiosity for whether or not he got deja vu when he was with her.

---

Rowan sat on his couch, staring at the photo in front of him. He had gotten back from his date with Lyria a couple of hours ago, guilt crashing over him every time he looked at her. Because Lyria wasn’t the woman that made his heart soar or his bones ache when he wasn’t near her. No, that feeling only belonged to his fireheart. The woman who could apparently no longer stand his presence in her life.

Aelin had broken up with him abruptly, pushing him away when he knew she needed him the most. Rowan wasn’t blind, he could see how unhappy she was in Rifthold. Arobynn Hamel was a pervert at best and Aelin deserved to have something or someone good in her life. And he thought he could be that someone, he really did. Rowan had already put in his two week notice to Maeve with hope in his heart and a ring in his pocket. He would do anything to make Aelin happy, and nothing would ruin them, not even the job of his dreams.

But apparently, they weren’t on the same page. Because when he had gone to visit her in Rifthold, ready to offer his life to her, she had crushed his spirits in less than 5 minutes. He had flown back home, but Rowan never figured out why she felt the urge to end their relationship. The lack of closure and the loss of the other half of his soul led him to ruins. For months he texted and called everyday, hoping that she would open up to him about her pain. But Aelin never answered. And she never texted. Next thing Rowan knew, he had stopped trying all together.

The Cadre did all they could to comfort him, but none of them were even close to understanding the aching pain he felt in his heart everyday. Lyria was the only one who could stand his somber demeanor, choosing to spend her breaks near his desk and chit chatting about office gossip during the slow days. At first, the distraction had been nice. But somewhere along the line, Lyria had become more serious about Rowan than he cared to admit.

Now here he was, with an almost-kind-of-talking-maybe-dating situationship that he didn’t understand even started. He mistook her friendliness for just that--friendship. But he also hadn’t stopped her. Deep down, Rowan knew that he was using Lyria, but he couldn’t help but keep the facade going on. Because if he was left alone again, Rowan didn’t think he would ever leave his apartment.

The nights were the worst, where he was alone with his endless thoughts, his regrets, his tears. The past 6 months had been rough, and if this was how he had to pick himself up again then so be it. Aelin sure as hell didn’t want him anymore and Rowan had to come to terms with it whether he liked it or not.

But still, sitting with his phone propped up in his hand, staring at his own face and the scoop of light pink ice cream in front of him, Rowan’s mind wandered to a simpler time. A time where they would be on a bench outside their infamous ice cream spot instead of the random ice cream parlor downtown. A time where Rowan’s eyes would be shining brighter staring into the deepest blue he had ever seen. A time where his fireheart would be taking that picture instead of the woman he strung along like a puppy dog.

Imagining his own heaven in his head combined with the bitter reality around him, Rowan felt a momentary sense of deja vu.

*****

Tag list 

@rowaelinismyotp

@morganofthewildfire

@throneofmak

@whimsicallyreading  

@live-the-fangirl-life

[pocketramblr]

The followup to the Thought™

"Ugh." You say, waving to the screen. "Look at that, now that's who should have been the main character-"

"Oh?" I say, a small glowing figure appearing in front of you. "I can show you that if you want, wish granted." I wave my magic wand, and you blink to find yourself watching a different universe's show.

It's about a blond boy, with a minor superpower that's difficult to work with. He only has one friend, with major anxiety. Both of them want to be heroes, which is about the coolest and nicest thing anyone can be in this world.

But the blond boy is only in middle school. He doesn't get the best grades, he's a bit of a class clown, a bit of a delinquent. He's not exactly cool or over powered, but his earnest, bright nature endears him to the watchers and readers of the story. He's nice, and not worried about competition. He'll put cheering up his best friend over studying- and he'll put just enjoying video games together over training his power on his own.

He doesn't, by the way, train on his own. He makes meager progress in the class provided, and works hard when he's thinking about it, but he honestly doesn't even know where to start with his power.

He takes the entrance exam, and by some manner of luck, manages to permeate through blasts and rubble while shoving other students out of the way. He's used to watching out for his best friend, at least, and that carries over in his natural, if clumsy, attempts to help others here.

With more luck, he is accepted into the school on those points. So is his best friend, though they're in different classes. He still doesn't have many friends, but they meet a new girl in his bf's class: she's gorgeous and powerful- the most raw energy in any of their quirks, and no anxiety or complications holding her back.

She's a bit of a ditz, though, a bit much for others to hang around all the time, so even though she should be a shoe in fit the most popular, she slides easily into their group instead.

The fandom likes her a lot, and you feel impatient. This isn't the story you wanted to see, not really.

"Don't worry," I say. "Time flies when you're actually a school story instead of a daily battle with villains story."

And it does- they compete in the first sports festival. The main character, to little surprise, doesn't do well. But he manages to keep himself and the others smiling and laughing through it, and that brings the attention of the mentor.

The mentor that you like, of course, the mentor you believe was right.

The mentor trains the main character. It's hard, but he can actually break down what exactly he needs to improve on, and now that he has support, the main character takes it seriously. Like all children do, he rises to the expectations on him when he's given the material to do so.

Not made to find the material. The kid would have never dreamed of just assuming and asking such a high ranking hero to focus on him. Rather like another boy, but we'll get to him later.

It's another year. The girl tried her best at the beauty pageant. The best friend tried his best at the liscence exam. The main character has still been training at his internship.

"His second year." You say, thinking. "Now this is when All Might shows up in the timeline, ten months before February in what would be Mirio's second year."

I raise an eyebrow, but wave my magic wand.

All Might does appear. The mysterious top hero, always in the background- ads, all over the mentor's office. They used to work together, but no one in this universe knows anything more than that.

The mentor and the principal happily tell the main character that the number one hero wants to meet with him directly! The boy is nervous, of course, excited, of course, and a tad confused.

But meet they do.

And offer his quirk, he does.

The episode and chapter end on that, of course, and you feel a surge of excitement. Finally!

You look around and realize others in this fandom do not see it that way. Many critique the twist as coming out of nowhere, with no build up that it was even possible, breaking the established rules for no reason. Many others are proud of how much the main character has to work at the difficult power, and do not want him to have a second before he masters this one. Some feel it's a trap- a secret test of character, or a villain in disguise who will ruin him. Some wonder if it's more metaphorical- he's offering the power of support and more guidance, maybe a connection, but not his literal superpower.

You do not know how to feel about it, but you know this will be for the better. He will be perfect for it.

At the beginning of the next update, the boy turns down the quirk. Grateful, more than he could say, but he's worked so hard for his own power and he's not even up to snuff with it yet. He's unsure he's the best option. The girl, after all, is used to weilding such power, maybe he should try her, maybe he should keep looking.

The top hero nods, and asks if he can visit again later, if he can find no other. The boy is a good hero after all, and maybe he needs to believe in himself as much as he is telling his friend to. It will be hard to train a second quirk, yes, but he can manage. It will make him stronger and pay off, after all.

The boy agrees, tentatively. No one can really say no to the number one hero, after all.

"Ok." You say, nodding. "There's an opening. It can build more, since that's how the story is here, way more slowburn."

I shrug. That's what happens when you start the story three years early, but whatever.

The story goes on. The main character does better in the sports festival, but not by any measure good. His friend finds a mentor, a character popular. Much warmer than the blond's mentor. The girl gets a really good mentor, a top tenner.

And then they start to get really good. They're used to training now, and getting it all bit individually and together. The mentor is motivated as of by fury, pushing more and more. And the main character grows to reach it.

Another year. They're seniors, now. Just one year left before they're pros, but they're already about at that level. They're called the Big Three.

The third year is different. Chaos every few weeks. A class of first years attacked.

"Oh, because All Might is still looking for a successor among the students- checking over the freshmen but they won't be able to compare."

I hum in a way that could be interpreted as agreement.

The sports festival. Finally, real victory. They do so well, even with one anxious at crowds. And one that is seemingly allergic to staying clothed. They do well.

The chaos continues, always at the sides. The others in this universe who follow the story talk about that and the offer the top hero made. Is he getting weaker? Did that power leak somehow and now someone wants it?

The tension grows, especially for you. If the hero doesn't give the main character the power before the summer....

The main character doesn't get the power before the summer. The hero falls on tv while the blond and his friends watch in horror.

After the summer, the main character decides to meet the freshmen. You wonder who will replace a certain someone's seat, or if this is playing the original quirkless hero storyline.

When the main character challenges the class of freshmen and you see that sparking green, you seethe.

"I said I wanted Mirio to have OfA! Why is he-"

"Actually," when I speak, you cannot. "You asked for him to be the main character. He still is. A beloved one, even."

"You know what I meant!"

"Perhaps. But then you asked for another change, and so I allowed All Might to meet with him a few days before he would have in the old timeline. He had a chance, he turned it down. Why are you mad at him having his own ambitions and autonomy?"

"He was supposed to take it! He's the worthier option, and you know it."

"What makes him worthy?"

"He works hard!"

"So does Izuku."

"He worked hard before he was offered everything by All Might!"

"Yes," I will admit. "Though, that's only because he met Sir before he met All Might. Were you so focused on how slow it was going that you didn't actually watch what he was doing?"

You will not admit to anything, still angry.

"He'll get another chance." I remind you.

You huff, but the story continues on.

The main character takes a liking to the boy you despise. So does the fandom, dubbing him the cutest little kohai. He's awkward and eager and sunny, like a fusion of the main trio.

He's also impulsive, and on their first patrol together they run into who will obviously be the big bad of the arc- and his abused daughter.

The fandom is split on if the story is going to go with a "In this arc, the blond must pass his experience on patience to a boy who it all about speed and too naive" or if it's "In this arc, it's the mouth of babes- the boy will inspire the main character to do good more impulsively."

You sit and wait for it to be "the boy will finally fork over the power he's now spent over a year working to hold and use to the real main character."

The raid happens. We finally see how the main character met his best friend. It's very sweet. The girl is a lead character and gets focus on her fight too, though the two freshmen working with her don't really. There's another funky freshman boy who turns out to be more like the best friend than we thought.

Finally, we get to the main fight.

And the main character is shot, quirk erased. For good, if the villain who's really not actually that good an example of a scientist is to be believed.

"Oh. What if the former top hero offers his power again, after this arc? It's about loss but always moving on?" The fandom asks. They aren't sure if the buildup to this is better than before, but it's certainly am interesting turn, and not as controversial as the last time.

The best friend saves the day by awakening right at the perfect moment to drag the teacher in. The quirk is kinda super deus ex machina for this arc though.

At the hospital, the mentor dies. The former number one hero is there.

The fandom wonders whether to hope or fear how long he'll wait to replace the mentor and the quirk.

You wait, knowing it's soon.

Then the freshman offers his quirk, and the fandom flips again.

"We should have known!" They cry. "He had super speed and strength the whole time, maybe the sparks are from his own quirk, but it's the same power! Oh, this hurts much more than just if it had been the retired hero!"

Once again, the fandom divides. Many can't bear to see the kohai they love shoved aside after this one moment. Will be be able to use his original power? Then they won't mind the strength for the blond. Some say to wait for his power to come back. A few pipe up about the possibility of him doing it quirkless. He has trained physically too, after all these years.

"No thanks," he says again. He does smile though- just like Sir told him to- and tells his kohai that he’ll do great things with the power, just like All Might did. Tells him that he already has.

You're past the point of fury now.

"Why?" You demand.

"Keep watching." My tone is cold. "Keep watching, the next five months where he does nothing but babysit a girl in hopes she'll magically make himt not quirkless again. He doesn't even ask if he can be a quirkless hero. He doesn't even go to school to keep training. You demanded the other boy figure it out himself. This boy doesn't. He just hopes the same thing that did this to him can undo it."

You don't know what to say about that.

"Neither took it seriously in middle school. That's the nature of middle schoolers. Neither of them tried to go solo quirkless, when no support was provided. But they're both good kids. Hard workers. Heroic. They love each other, honestly, they're friends. It's sweet. And it's sad that it took me doing this for you to see it."

I shake my head.

"Sir Nighteye never saw how Mirio was much more like Izuku than All Might. That was his mistake, because he didn't know the meaning of worthy. Not that it was his choice to make even if he had. There's no magic to this. OfA isn't Excalibur or Mjölnir. All sorts of people have had it. And All Might wasn't doing much to train before he found Nana ether, as much as he got into trouble. OfA is more about connections they have to each other. It's about people's relationships. As it happens, that just doesn't include Mirio and wouldn't be at its most meaningful if it did."

"You just are too much a Deku stan and hate Mirio-"

"Accuse me of hating Mirio again, and I will leave you here." I threaten, pointing my wand at you. "Now. Did you learn your lesson?"

You grumble, but you do nod.

"Good." I say, before waving my wand one last time. You're back where you were before, not a trace of me or magic.

The lesson, though, sticks.

[luxekook]

chapter one.

⇥ pairing: jungkook x reader; eventual bts/ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 2.3k

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, dirty talk, kissing, hickies, drinking, tatted jungkook, nipple piercings

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

characters | prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

Chapter One

Fall of Junior Year – 8:57am

I curse every single decision that has brought me to this very moment as I power-walk across campus, sweating under the already blistering sun. Campus in August could easily be compared to a swamp given the amount of unearthly humidity, and I'm pretty sure I currently qualified as the local swamp thing.

The only positive feature in my morning has been the table of free coffee and doughnuts staffed by Student Government. The first day of the fall semester always seems to be accompanied by frantically wide-eyed freshmen and celebratory freebies. However, air conditioning is the only thing I would be celebrating today as I finally reach Tyson Hall – the destination of my 9:00am class.

As I rush to my classroom with one minute to spare, I slump into a seat in the far corner – my preferred location for people-watching out of the large windows and for getting away with doing homework for other classes.

Familiar faces surround me, an unsurprising observation given that this is our mandatory research seminar as psychology majors. I notice my friend Jenni sitting in the opposite corner, eyes glued to her phone screen.

Opening my laptop, I shoot her a text to come sit with me. Her head whips up, black braids moving every which way as she immediately piles up her things and hustles over, “(y/n), I forgot you were in this seminar! I just switched over from quantitative research because I couldn’t take any more statistics – or Dr. Harding.”

Dr. Harding is the dean of the psychology department and has been teaching here for ages. Feared by most psychology students for his tough grading and intimidating persona, he’s actually a huge softie – something I discovered by going to his office hours and seeing all 85 pictures of his grandchildren hanging throughout the room.

“He’s not that bad, Jen.”

She scoffs, “You would say that because you got an A in statistics like some sort of wizard. Besides, Dr. Newman is so much nicer.”

Jenni has an excellent point. Dr. Newman is the main reason I chose this seminar. As one of the most respected researchers at our university, she’s known for her qualitative studies on gender across cultures. I consider Dr. Newman to be a real badass woman and I lowkey stan her.

I turn to reply, but Dr. Newman begins taking attendance and class begins.

Fifty minutes later, Jenni practically drags me out of the classroom, “I cannot believe she kept us the whole 50 minutes. Is she aware that it’s syllabus week? It’s practically law to just read over the syllabus and then dismiss class. This is outrageous– (y/n), are you even listening?”

“Hmm?” I totally had tuned her out, focusing on the number of students flooding the quad. I had missed this – the rush of students heading to class, the yells of people greeting each other from entirely too far away, the buzz of excitement over potential parties…

“Unbelievable. How did I forget you have this whole weird-ass feminist crush on her?” Jenni forges forth, “It doesn’t matter. What are you doing tonight? You’re going out with us, right? Luna and I want to go to Hannigan’s.”

Since the three of us had all turned 21 over the summer, we finally could legally go to the bars in town. Hannigan’s currently holds the top spot on the list of bars that most of the upperclassman frequent. It’s a popular Irish pub downtown known for its cheap beer and mixed drinks.

It’s also BTS’s unofficial hangout – a fact that makes me slightly uneasy. After learning who the higher-ups are in BTS, I have taken to avoiding them like the plague. It was a relatively easy thing to do since the spring semester tended to be less focused on rushing and recruiting for fraternities and sororities.

But now it’s rush season, and I’m pretty much fucked. There will be no avoiding seeing BTS’s president Kim Namjoon out recruiting with his vice president Min Yoongi and his social chair Jung Hoseok. There will also be no avoiding pledge master Taehyung leading around new BTS pledges like a mother duckling. And don’t even get me started on how Kim Seokjin, Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook will be popping up everywhere to advertise the latest BTS bash.

Sighing, I figure that the chances of actually bumping into them at the bar will be slim, given that it will most likely be super crowded and I can easily blend in.

I turn to Jenni as we keep walking towards our next classes, “Yeah, I’ll go to Hannigan’s. Are you going to come over to get ready at our place?”

Luna and I had moved into a cute little off-campus apartment over the summer. As it turned out, it’s cheaper to live off-campus than on-campus if you look hard enough. We also had it pretty good location-wise being just a few short blocks from both campus and downtown.

“Yes!” Jenni replies, slowing to a stop out front of the science building, “I’ll be over around 8 with tequila. I’ll text you later. I’ve got to go to neuro-psych lab now,” she rolls her eyes, “Hopefully we won’t be kept the whole time.”

Waving, we part ways, and I shake my head.

Tequila never leads to anything good.

Hannigan’s – 10:54pm

Fate seems to be on my side for once in my life. As soon as Luna, Jenni and I walk into Hannigan’s, my eyes are drawn to the back table where the BTS usually sits. It’s empty.

It’s practically an unspoken rule that no one else can sit there, and even though the bar is packed with all other tables accounted for, that one remains vacant – and for good reason.

Greek life essentially has a cult following around here. The Greeks provide status for those who are into that whole exclusivity thing. They also provide the best parties because of the size of their houses and because the university will never complain about one of their best sources of revenue.

I didn’t to rush a sorority way back in freshman year because I couldn’t feasibly afford it. The dues were way out of my price range, considering I was already paying for my education on my own. Luna, on the other hand, is in Epsilon Xi Delta (EXID) and consistently makes me and Jenni tag along to different Greek parties with her.

"Come on, bitches! Let's get some drinks," Jenni drags me and Luna through the packed room towards the bar that is already encircled by a crowd of thirsty students.

Tonight’s plan is simple – stick together, have fun, scope out cute seniors. Having already taken some shots before we left (saving that coin), we’re definitely feeling ourselves, flaunting our outfits like we didn’t spend a good hour picking them out earlier.

I had settled on a black t-shirt dress with a checkered flannel tied around the waist and some black Doc Martens. Luna and Jenni had tried to convince me to wear heels with them, but I knew syllabus week was a marathon – not a sprint. My feet would thank me later, and theirs would be crying.

As the bartender slides us our beers, the opening beats of Cocky AF by our badass queen Megan Thee Stallion blast through the speakers dispersed throughout the bar. Turning immediately to each other, we clink our beers together, take a sip, and head to the makeshift dance floor.

We squeeze and push our way through the masses until we reach a spot towards the back where the crowd has thinned out a little more. Within seconds, we’re in motion, hips swaying in time to Megan saying ‘bitch, I look good and you know that’.

Shaking out my hair, I get in the zone and lose count of how many songs we dance to. Eventually, our beers empty and Luna turns to me, “Another?" She accompanies her shouted question with an unnecessary charade of shot-gunning a beer in case I couldn’t hear her. I roll my eyes, laughing while I nod in response.

“Save our spot!” Jenni yells and disappears into the crowd of dancers with Luna towards the bar.

I continue dancing on my own. Swaying my hips, I decide to put my hair up to try to cool off a little in the sweltering bar. The music shifts into a new song, this one slower, more seductive, a favorite of mine – Lost in the Fire featuring The Weeknd.

As Abel’s angelic voice flows over me, a pair of hands slide over my hips from behind me. I start to pull away, but then I notice – the hands are tattooed. And for some reason, that hot little fact makes me relax into the large body behind me.

Those tattooed hands tug me back even more, bringing me flush against him as he falls into time with my movements. God, this guy can dance – a rarity these days.

His body is all hard muscle and heated skin. His mouth is hot against my neck, alternating between kissing, sucking, and biting. My skin buzzes. Fuck, I haven’t felt this way since–

Turning my head slightly, I can make out the vague outline him and it confirms my sinking suspicion... He’s a BTS boy.

"Hey, noona," he murmurs in my ear, his lips brushing over it as he speaks.

Fuck my life, I think as I shiver involuntarily in response. Spinning to face one of Satan’s henchmen, I toss my ponytail over my shoulder and jut a hip out in both defiance and defense. But really nothing could have prepared me for the sight of Jeon fucking Jungkook, the golden boy of BTS.

He somehow looks like he’s gotten even bigger since the last I saw him playing pong against Taehyung at that party – information that I cannot even comprehend. His left arm is completely tattooed, along with a few smaller ones dotting his hands. I glare at them, blaming those hands for throwing me off.

“Like them?” Jungkook waves his fingers in front of my narrowed eyes, “I got them this summer.” Smirking lazily, Jungkook makes his own perusal of me – taking extra time along the way.

His jaw flexes as his eyes turn molten, “You’re killing me, noona. Tae didn’t mention…” He trails off, swallowing hard.

I follow his gaze. Oh fuck. I had forgotten I decided to forego a regular bra tonight because I wanted to show off my piercings. Just having a thin bralette under my dress, my pierced nipples are definitely noticeable under Jungkook’s heavy stare.

Refusing to give into him, I square my shoulders, “Yeah, I got them this summer, too. But, I don’t see how that’s either your or Taehyung’s business.”

At my words, Jungkook rips his eyes away from my tits to finally meet my own eyes again, “Oh, but it really is our business. Tae said we’d like you and I agree.”

His voice is low and rough, and I swear I can feel it washing over my body, making all of my synapses fire in response.

“We?” I choked out. In full panic mode, I spin and try to leave, but I barely make it a foot away before getting stopped by a now-familiar tattooed hand wrapped around my wrist.

Luckily, a crashing sound echoes from the back table where the other BTS boys must be, and Jungkook lets out a string of curses, “Fucking hell, listen I have to go make sure no one’s hurt, or Joon will kill me. Stay here, okay? I’m not done with you, (y/n).”

His hand rushes up to the nape of my neck, pulling me into him. Our lips fuse together in a brutally hot kiss, his tongue slipping against my bottom lip for a fraction of a second.

And then he’s gone – disappearing rapidly through the fray to manage whatever trouble his frat has gotten into.

I stand there, shaking fingers on my lips wondering what the actual fuck just happened.

“Hey, sorry we took so long! This bitch cut in front of us and I swear she ordered for the entire fucking population of North America—”

Luna smacks Jenni’s arm, cutting her off, “You okay, (y/n)?” Luna peers closer at me, “Holy shit, is that a hickey?  We were only gone for 10 minutes!”

My hand flies to my neck as both Jenni and Luna grab me, dragging me to the slightly quieter back alley of the bar. As they conduct the second Spanish Inquisition, I spill the details on what happened.

After a moment of silence following my explanation, they both start talking at once:

→ Jenni: “Hell yes, girl, go off! Jeon Jungkook is fine as fuck…” → Luna: “(y/f/n) (y/m/n) (y/l/n), have you lost your damn mind…”

→ Jenni: “…I’d hit that in a heartbeat. I’m so proud!” → Luna: “…Do you not remember last semester? Are you high? Oh my GOD, did he drug you?!”

“Stop!” I slap a hand over each of their mouths, “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, you guys are impossible. I am not ‘hitting’ anything, and, no, he did not fucking drug me.”

Sighing, I continue, “It was a lapse in judgement, okay? I remember last semester more than anyone, but he’s just so powerful and I don’t seem to have any common sense around BTS.”

I take my hands away from their mouths and immediately Jenni asks, “Wait, what happened last semester?”

Luna slings an arm around my shoulder, “Come on, let’s go get pizza and a six-pack from Ralph’s. We can go out another night this week.”

“Take-out from Ralph’s?” Jenni’s eyes widen comically, “This must be major tea. Let’s go.”

Instinctively, we clink our beers together for the second time that night and chug the remainder of our bottles in true broke bitch fashion (never leave paid-for beer behind).

With that, we trek back through the door and out of the bar. We finish our night filling in Jenni with our less than savory experience with the infamous BTS fraternity last semester.

But, as I lay in bed for the night, I can’t help but wonder if Jungkook had looked for me that night after I left… Or if he told Taehyung...

taglist (message me to be added):

@catsandstrawberries​ @h5naaa​

[bbrandy2002]

Fearless

Chapter 2: Take My Hand And Drag Me Headfirst

Book: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Pairing: Prince/King Liam x MC (Riley Brooks), Drake Walker x OC (Alyssa Devereaux)

Series Premise: Riley Brooks and Alyssa Devereaux became best friends as freshmen at Syracuse University, a borderline-sisterhood that lasts forever after. When Riley meets a handsome prince and is asked to compete for his hand in a mysterious faraway kingdom, she invites Alyssa along for moral support.

What the girls think will be a crazy temporary adventure becomes two sets of happily ever afters … with twice the shenanigans to show for it.

A/N: This series is written in loving collaboration between @bbrandy2002 and @burnsoslow​.

Series Warnings: Smut 🍋🍋, language, canon violence (gun violence, bombing, terrorism), drug use, probably more stuff as we think of it. By reading this series, you agree that you are at least 18 years old and are prepared to deal with adult themes.

Thank you @burnsoslow​ for the beta and putting some of your magical finishing touches where needed.

Chapter 3 will be written by @burnsoslow​ ,  I’m so excited for that!!

___________________________

Propped against the railing of the rear deck of a small tugboat in the middle of the Hudson River, the warmth of Liam’s arms wrapped around her from behind, Riley thought back to the words Daniel spoke to her earlier about fairytales and happy endings. Maybe it was the hope in his voice she needed to hear during a vulnerable moment to lift her spirits, but she was really starting to believe them herself.

The newly fired, down-on-her-luck Riley Brooks had left the Tapped Out Bar with a mysterious man that she plowed over during an escape from rats while taking out the garbage. A little while later, she accidentally attacked him again in the alleyway of her former employment with her sad little stick. They struck up a conversation, and through some awkward stalling on his part, he finally worked up the nerve to ask her out for a drink. 

Riley wasn’t someone who normally took off with random guys she just met to flit about the city, but there was just something about Liam that was different -- that was special. 

Call it intuition. An inclination. Instinct or inkling. Whatever it was, was a possibility. Of what? That remained to be seen. 

After talking to his friends about his plans, and at her behest, the pair headed west on foot until they reached a busy late-night cafe that overlooked the choppy waters of the New York harbor. Sitting on the open deck, moonlight cascading off the ripples of the sea, a light jazz tune playing through the outdoor speakers, they talked for over an hour about everything and nothing, while sipping coffee and plucking at a large cinnamon roll they shared. It was the most Riley had spoken in a long time. When you live with and are friends with the more outgoing Alyssa, you learn to appreciate the fine art of listening. She spoke about her dads, her friends, places she traveled to and what not. All very light, casual conversation. Liam mentioned he had family, his country of origin, how much he was enjoying New York, but never revealed too much.

Not wanting to sound too whiny and pathetic, she stuck with the positive things in her life; she surprised even herself that there were a lot more than she realized. But he captivated her in a real way that made it so easy. Liam laughed with her and made her feel interesting and personable; maybe even desired.

And as the night carried on and the patrons of the cafe dwindled down, a Miles Davis tune began to play: “Blue and Green.” A bright smile tugged on the corner of Liam’s lips as he pushed his chair back and rose from the table to offer his hand. “My lady.”

Riley looked around the deck to see if anyone else was dancing -- they weren’t -- but how could she say no? 

She didn’t want to say no.

Beside their little round table and under a string of hanging white pearly lights and garland, they slowly swayed together like it was the most natural thing in the world. It was chemistry in motion with every soft blare of the trumpet, rhythmic taps on the snare drum, and light pitter pats on a piano played in G major. The tempo was leisurely and elegant, creating the perfect ambience for the feelings that were stirring within them.

With her head resting snugly against his firm chest, the thrumming of his steadily-beating heart reverberating in her ear, Liam revealed, “I’m the Crown Prince of Cordonia, Riley.”

Never breaking their stride, Liam lifted one of her tiny arms in the air and twirled her around gracefully. Riley smiled up at him as they returned to formation; their hands intertwined between them. “And I’m one of the four horsemen of the Apocalypse.”

Liam laughed as they continued their gentle side-to-side movements. “I know it sounds crazy, but I’m not lying to you. Perhaps I should have been a little more upfront with you from the beginning, but I’m normally not allowed to go out without the Royal Guard.” He paused for a moment to lower her into a deep dip, sensually inhaling the perfumed scent around her decolletage, before pulling her back into his arms. “And I was only allowed out on the condition that I kept my identity a secret. But, just for one day … I wanted to be free.”

It was one of the most romantic nights Riley had ever experienced in her life, but as the music continued to play, their steps gliding in sync, she nuzzled her cheek against his firm body and responded, “You’re so full of shit.”

Liam pulled away, amused by her choice of words and disbelief. “After I told you all of that, you still think I’m lying?”

Riley shrugged. “I dunno.” She casually pulled out her chair under his watchful eye and sat down, crossing her legs. Lifting a coffee mug to her lips, she winced at its cold temperature, and the fact that she hated coffee. “So, I’m not really into the whole role-playing thing, but if you’re gonna be this ... Prince of Condomania, how about if I play the sultry villainess spy who comes to steal the treasures from your castle and you catch me in the act?” She batted her eyelashes and splayed her hands across her chest. “I will neva surrenda, Prince Liam. If you wont me, you’ll haf to take me right heya.” Riley animatedly flung her arms out and arched back over her chair.

Liam knit his brow. “What the hell kind of accent is that?”

Riley sat up and smiled proudly. “It’s Cajun. I have this friend and I really like how he talks; it’s so sexy. Do you think it sounded convincing at all? Maybe a little too nasally? You want me to try to do your accent next?”

With a grin, Liam shook his head and took the seat across from her. “You’re something else, you know that?”

She sighed. “That’s what they tell me.”

Reaching into his jacket pocket, Riley watched curiously as Liam pulled out his phone and began typing something on it. He held it out to her. “I want you to look at this, Cajun Villainess Spy. Tell me what you think?”

“Oh God, you’re gonna show me a dick pic, aren’t you?” Riley slammed her eyes shut as she reluctantly reached for his cell, but sort of peeked out one eye.  

“Eh, no. That’s never really been my style.” He gestured insistently for her to look at the screen as he sat back and crossed his arms. “I think you’ll find everything you want to know about me right there.”

It only took her a second to study the images and gloss over the text he pulled up, but a satisfied smirk formed on Liam’s charmed features while watching her eyes grow larger. Riley jumped up from her chair, the momentum causing it to tip over. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a real prince?” 

Liam guffawed, “I did!”

“No, you didn’t! You had I’m joking written all over your face. How was I supposed to know your serious face and your joke face look the same?” She tossed the phone back to him like it was molten iron scorching her palm. “I’d rather have the dick pic.” 

After picking up her tipped-over chair and getting settled again, she took a moment to just process the identity of the man she had spent the last couple of hours talking and dancing with. Her real-life Prince Charming. This incredibly sweet, hot guy sipping coffee in front of her was part of a royal family, and she was an unemployed everything. What on earth possessed him to want to spend time with the likes of her?  

She looked up from her fidgeting fingers that were picking at the green fabric covering her thighs and smiled softly at him. “I’m sorry I overreacted. It’s just …”

“A lot to learn about someone? No, no, I get it. I probably would have had the same reaction if I were you.”

“So ... what happens now?”

What happened next was what led them to the boat they were on for an impromptu midnight ride to see the Statue of Liberty.

Liam laid out the details of his situation: He was a prince visiting New York City with his friends who were throwing him a last-minute bachelor party. Riley listened attentively while he explained his upcoming social season: not knowing yet who he was going to marry, but that duty required him to take a wife by the end of the year. He had hoped while he was in the city to visit its most famous statue; however, his friends hadn’t planned for it. Riley heard the disappointment in his voice and it tugged at her heart.

It was definitely too late to catch one of the many tours that traveled to Ellis Island during the day, but Riley was determined to do what she could to make it happen for him. Part of her was motivated by the fact that she liked him a lot and enjoyed his company; he was charming and refined, different from anyone she’d ever met. The longer she got to spend with Liam and got to know him, the better. But there was also this other part that felt sorry for him. Riley could see the struggle in his eyes and the weight on his shoulders between what he wanted to do, and what his position forced his hand to do. In her mind it was clear that Liam was the kind of guy who got everything -- except what he wanted.

In some ways, she knew the feeling.

To Liam’s surprise, Riley assured him she would find a way for him to see that statue. So, while he paid the tab, her mind raced with how the hell she was going to pull this off. And just before the actual possibility of having to hijack a vessel began to fully take shape in her mind, she pulled out her phone in one last-ditch effort to not break the law. Riley knew no one who owned a boat, but there was one person in her life that seemingly had a connection to everyone in the damn city.

Riley bit at her fingernails as the phone rang, glancing over her shoulder once to watch Liam paying the cashier. “Come on, come on. Pick up. Pick up.”

“Heyyyy!”

“Alyssa,” Riley whispered in an urgent tone into the phone, unclear whether her friend would even hear her over the party music and raucous chatter that was blaring in the background. “I need your help with something.”

“Riiiiley!” she slurred. “My bestie. My sister from another parents. I love you soooo much. More than everyone in the whole wide ... something. Hey, guys! Riley’s on the phone; say hi to her!” 

“Wait, Lyss! No.”

A loud chorus of drunken greetings could be heard through the receiver as Alyssa held it up in the air.

“Alyssa!” Riley repeated in frustration while listening to her best friend start another conversation with a partygoer about the perfect symmetrical shape of the cheese cube she just ate. Apparently, it looked like a “tiny little house, for teeny, tiny little cheese people.”

Riley smacked her forehead. “Alyssa!” 

Liam returned from paying the bill, his hands stuffed in his pockets and bouncing on his heels. He raised his eyebrows at Riley as if asking eagerly whether she was ready to head out on this adventure she told him she would make possible. Riley smiled back and raised a finger, indicating she’d be ready in a moment. Panic started to set in as she cursed under her breath and continued to try to get her friend back on the call. “Lyss.”

“Riley,” Alyssa laughed. “You’re still on the phone? No way! Hey, guys! Riley’s still on the phone. Say ‘hey’ to her!”

“NOO! Please, Alyssa, I need your help.”

“Whatcha need, Ri? You know I’ll do aaaanything for you.”

“Ok, do you remember when you caught our dorm room on fire senior year cooking ramen noodles in the microwave, and all my stuff burned up?”

“That checks. Sure.”

“Well, it’s time to pay up on that favor you said you’d owe me.”

Somehow, the planets must have been aligned just right, because a very inebriated Alyssa comprehended Riley’s request enough to talk to Damien about it and have it actually make sense. Luckily, the private detective knew a guy who drove a tugboat for the Port Authority working the night shift and was more than willing to see what he could do for Alyssa’s best friend.

-----------

Riley felt Liam’s arms tighten around her waist as the Statue of Liberty came into view. She had seen the landmark more times than she could remember in her life; perhaps she had become so accustomed to it being there that she took for granted how it would affect someone seeing it for the first time. It wasn’t until she twisted around in his arms to view his reaction, to see this beacon of freedom reflecting in his mesmerized eyes, that it all made sense. Liam was a beautiful man with a beautiful soul; if anyone deserved this moment to reflect on what it truly meant to embrace the freedom he longed for, it was him.

“What are you thinking, Liam?” She broke the silence.

He shook his head in wonderment. “It’s magnificent, Riley. I’ve heard art has meaning because of what it makes the viewer feel. Whether it’s ink splatters on a canvas or on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, it only matters if it moves you.”

“And?” 

Liam let out a sigh of contentment and lowered his gaze to her. “And right now, looking at this view with you … I feel like … anything is possible.”

“I feel that way too.” She slowly nodded, finding herself lost in his eyes, his voice, his embrace. Nothing in this moment mattered to her anymore: the long stream of bad luck, the crappy job she just lost, her epic failures at relationships. They all seemed to just wistfully fly out into the ocean and bury themselves below its sandy bottom. 

Wrapped in each other's arms, surrounded by the salty sea air and a skyline full of hopes and dreams, Liam pulled her as close to himself as she would go, his other hand moving up to caress the side of her face. Both searched longingly into each other's eyes, waiting for the other to make that next big move. 

Feeling an awakening of courage and fire in the depths of her fluttering stomach, she threw all fears and caution to the wind. Riley grasped on to the lapels of Liam’s jacket and gently lowered him to her eagerly awaiting lips.

The kiss was tender and brief, but magical; it left her spellbound. Riley could swear she floated out of her body and traveled into the clouds that blanketed above them and enveloped her wholly.

Liam rested his forehead on Riley’s; his hands reached down to grasp hers and swing freely alongside them. “You’re full of surprises tonight, Riley.”

“Is that before or after I knocked you out earlier?”

He chucked, rubbing the bump on the back of his head. “Both times. I’m certainly not sorry about either, though. I’ll never forget this night … or you.”

If you have a concussion, you might. She smiled up at him, “Me either.”

As their boat rounded the island, Riley took one last glance back at the statue that now represented so much more in her mind. Her gaze traveled across the expanse of the gleaming torch, down the long arm of the statue, over to the dim lights shining through the glass within the crown. Something caught her attention -- an odd movement -- and she couldn’t help but squint real hard to make out the image that was quite small from her vantage point. She tilted her head, trying to figure out what the hell she was seeing before it finally became clearer to her. She let out a loud gasp. “Oh my God!”

From behind, Liam leaned down next to her face. “What’s wrong?” he asked curiously, trying to match his view with her line of sight. “What are you seeing?”

Riley pointed up. “I see ass cheeks!” she replied in disgust. “And not just any ass cheeks … big, gigantic ones smooshed right up against the window. There’s two people up there just going at it and … oh, no wait, she just got turned around. Yep, yep, those look like boobies now. Who does that kind of thing, having sex where anyone could just see? And in the Statue of Liberty, of all places?”

Letting out a forced cough then clearing his throat, Liam squeezed Riley’s shoulders several times and laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, I know. Sick freaks, huh?”

The pair watched the display for a second longer than they should have before turning to look at one another, blushing and smiling sheepishly. Riley only hoped she played off her disgust well enough that he didn’t realize she was a sick freak too.

Liam looked away, hoping the same.

---------

It was well past midnight.The Brooklyn streets were mostly bare, with only the occasional late-night dweller cruising the sidewalks or a yellow cab making its weekend rounds. Just a stone's throw across the bridge, the city that never slept, with its flashing lights and bustling tourist, lay in deep contrast to this quiet residential district that was only lit up at that hour by street lamps and halogen headlights.

Riley considered where she lived to be a fairly safe neighborhood. Crime and lawlessness weren’t unheard of, but it was rare for that area. Like many women of her young age, walking alone in the dark wasn’t something she usually set out to do unless she had no other choice. That’s why when Liam insisted he accompany her the few blocks from where they finished their excursion to see her home safely, she was more than willing to oblige him.

“This is my stop. Home sweet home.” Riley stopped at the bottom of the stairs that led to the entrance of her building and turned to Liam. She looked more gleeful than she actually was.

He glanced up at the plain red brick building. It was nothing special, but he made a mental note of the address numbers over its clear glass entryway. He knew it was unlikely he’d ever see her again, but on the off-chance, maybe someday if he was ever in the neighborhood … no, he thought … there’s no point in going there. “I see that ...it’s nice.”

Riley looked at him with a hopeful expression. “I know you said you had an early flight in the morning, but … if you’d like to come up …”

“I wish I could, Riley. Trust me, I want to more than you know; however, the limo will be here soon with my friends, and ...” he swept a strand of blowing hair from her face, memorizing her every feature. “... I don’t want to make this harder on either one of us.”

Nodding, Riley gave a half-smile. “I understand.”

They stared at one another for a moment, hoping to prolong the inevitable. “Come here, you.” Liam pulled her into him and wrapped his arms around her. ”I can never thank you enough for everything tonight, Riley. I’m so glad I ran into you. Well ... actually you ran into me.” Riley let out a soft laugh that made his heart skip a beat. “You were the best part of my trip, Riley. I mean it.”

Before they knew it, the limo pulled up alongside the sidewalk in front of Riley’s apartment. Both felt a sinking feeling, knowing this was the end, and embraced a little tighter as the squeak of the limo’s brakes dulled and the awaiting engine ran in the silent backdrop.

Riley drew in a breath, the heels of her shoes tapping one another. “I guess this is goodbye?”

Frowning, Liam’s palms moved up to her face and rested along her jawline. “I’m afraid it looks that way.” He leaned down and kissed her gently, her arms winding around the back of his neck to hold him there for as long as she possibly could.

Knowing if he didn’t end it there, it never would, Liam broke their kiss, stroking his hand through her hair and said, “Take care, Riley.”

She smiled back. “You too, Liam.”

Not wanting to leave until he was sure she made it inside safely, Liam watched from the sidewalk while Riley slowly made her way up the concrete steps, scouring through her bag as she did so. When she reached the top, she stepped in front of the locked door, frantically digging and shaking her bag in search of the keys to get in. 

“Everything okay up there?” Liam called up to her as she knelt down and started frantically tossing items from her purse, slamming them down next to her feet: wallet, cell phone, lip gloss, ink pens, breath mints, hand sanitizer, a half-eaten bag of skittles, a box cutter she didn’t know she had, a marshmallow bunny from Easter, Midol, tampons …

“Mother fuck,” she grumbled in frustration to herself before yelling back cheerfully, “Yes, just looking for my keys. They’re always at the bottom,” she laughed, trying to make light of it. 

“They’re in your hand, Riley,” she heard him point out when she finally gazed down into her hand and slowly opened her palm. Liam let out a laugh when he saw her face twist up, realizing she had them the entire time. 

“Get out of here. You said you didn’t want to make this harder.” Riley began stuffing everything back into her bag.

He continued to laugh as he threw his hands up and stepped away. “I’m going.”

As soon as she unlocked the door and walked inside to the lit-up entryway, she heard the limo pull away. Everything in her wanted to look back in hopes he’d stayed behind by some chance and was walking up those steps, approaching the door, wanting her to let him in. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath; the greatest guy she’d ever met was gone, and the only way to see him again would require a Google search. 

In her mind, though, she had made a prince’s dream come true. Maybe she wasn’t half bad after all.

In a huge way, Liam did the same for her. Too bad he would never know it.

___________

Riley opened the door and stepped inside her dark apartment, closing it behind her. After such a long day, feeling a little disheartened, all she wanted to do was slip into some comfy night clothes, wash her face, brush her teeth and crash until next week. Taking two steps away from the door, her foot caught on something and she went flying forward, landing with a hard thud to the floor. 

It felt like the wind had been knocked right out of her chest when she hit the ground. “Son-of-a--?” She pushed herself up on her knees, shook out her sore hands, then reached over to flip the light switch on.

“Alyssa?” Riley whispered.

Lying on the ground, curled into a peaceful little ball, was her roommate, still in the same clothes she last saw her in, hands pressed together and tucked under her cheek like a sleeping cherub. Riley crawled over to Alyssa, swept her hair out of her face, and checked for breathing. The strong smell of alcohol emanated from her tiny sighs -- Alyssa wasn’t a heavy drinker. 

Concerned, Riley jiggled her arm. “Sweetie, are you okay?”

An angelic murmur was the only answer to her question.

Not wanting to leave her on the floor, Riley stood up and bent down, her hands grasping both of Alyssa’s wrists before she pulled her down their hallway as gently as she could and stepped into her best friend's bedroom. 

Huffing out of breath, she made it next to Alyssa’s bed. Riley crouched down and tried to lift her onto the mattress, but Alyssa was dead weight. Maybe she had no other choice but to leave her there. 

Riley pulled a blanket and pillow from the bed, rolled Alyssa to her side, and got her as comfortable as she could. After placing a wastebasket next to her friend and leaving a bottled water on the night table, she patted her back. “I have so many things to tell you in the morning, Lyss. You’d be so proud of me.” Riley swallowed down the emotions that had threatened to escape since she realized Liam had left for good. Her voice broken and feeble, she continued, “I took that risk. I was fearless, just like you told me to be. It didn’t work out the way I had hoped, but …” she sniffled through a small smile, blinking back tears. “... I have no regrets.”

Riley rose to her feet and headed for the door when she heard a faint voice call out from behind that stopped her in her tracks. “Ri?”

She turned her head. “Hmm?”

“I’m always proud of you.”

Switching the light off, Riley smiled back at her friend, who still appeared to be resting in a calm slumber. “I know. Good night, bestie.”

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

The next morning, just as the sun had peeked from behind the clouds and the air was fresh with newness and warmth, Riley woke. Today would differ from every day before. She didn’t want to lie in bed all day and dwell on what-might-have-beens or how her life was a dead end to nowhere. She was determined she wanted something more out of it -- whatever that may be.

Slipping on a pair of trainers, running tights and a long sleeve shirt, she pulled her hair up in a high ponytail and headed out.

She made it two blocks before collapsing on a bench, gasping for air, and flipping off a kid on a bike who was laughing and taunting her.

After five more blocks of running and taking a break at nearly every bench or stoop along the way -- that same jerky kid still deriding her as he circled around each block -- Riley made her way back to her building, hunched over and sweaty. She didn’t jog as far as she’d liked to, but she made the effort, for which she was pleased with herself. 

It also didn’t hurt that there was a mouthy kid out there somewhere with two flat bicycle tires, crying to his mom, that was giving her a new boost of life. 

Reaching for the door of her building, she chuckled to herself thinking about his pouty little face -- haha, sucks to be you, kid -- when someone yelled out her name.

“Shit,” she panicked, thinking the boy’s parents had found her and had come to beat her ass. Riley fumbled with her keys, trying to make a quick getaway inside.

“Hey, Riley! Stop.” The voice sounded oddly familiar, and curiosity couldn’t stop her from whipping her head around to take a quick peek. She instantly recognized the man who was racing up the stairs towards her, from the bar. He was one of the guys from Liam’s party last night who helped after the collision. 

Pulling the keys from the lock and gripping the pepper spray attached to them, she jumped back when he suddenly hopped up next to her like a fireball of energy.

“Riley. I’m so glad I caught up with you. I’m Maxwell -- we met last night -- and this is Rashad.” He pointed over his shoulder. The man gave a simple nod in return. “He was there, too.”

Her brows knit in confusion. “Oookay. You both aren’t here by chance upset over a couple of slashed bike tires, are you? Because that wasn’t me. I saw who did it, though, if you need a witness statement.” Riley’s eyes shifted around, looking for a person to match her fake would-be description.

Maxwell shook his head with a chuckle and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, her gaze falling to it. “Nah, I came to talk to you about Liam. You’re all he could talk about when he got back to the hotel last night. He went on and on about the cafe, and the trip to the Statue of Liberty, and how beautiful you are ...”

“He -- he did?” She was pleasantly surprised, her heart bursting at his words.

“Yeah. We’re heading back to Cordonia so Liam can find someone to marry and all that jazz. But before I go, I wanted to officially extend to you an invitation to join us for the festivities in Cordonia. Sooo … is there somewhere we can talk?”

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

“You want me to do what?” Riley jumped up from the sofa, her eyes wide and mouth gaping as she gawked back at Maxwell, who was sitting at the far end. Her trembling hand shot to her forehead before she paced back and forth. “Let me get this straight. You want to sponsor me to compete to marry a man I just met last night? And not just any man, a prince. You’re going to fly me halfway across the world -- You could be the Official Royal Serial Killer, for all I know -- then prance me around like some beauty pageant contestant?  And all I have to do is say ‘yes to the dress’ that you can’t afford? Just hop right on a plane with two strange men, huh? How naïve do I look to you?” Riley paused for a second. “Don’t answer that.”

“I’m not doing it for you. I saw how Liam looked at you last night at the bar, and later when he returned from your date. I’ve never seen him that happy before. Honestly, I don’t want him to lose that. We’re kinda crunched for time, though. I’ve got a plane leaving in an hour.”

“An hour?” Riley questioned as she plopped down on the coffee table, her back to Maxwell and the guy in the chair across the room who hadn’t said a word the whole time. It was a once-in-a-lifetime offer to travel somewhere new and exciting and literally rub elbows with royalty. To live out that fairytale that most girls could only dream of. But more importantly, it was a way to see Liam again, and she wanted to so badly … if Maxwell was indeed telling the truth. 

Even if nothing came of it, there was no job tying her down anymore. Her dad had just gotten married to her stepfather and stayed busy as a chef for Beyonce and Jay-Z, so he would be fine, and she had enough money in savings to pay her portion of the rent while she was gone and expenses for her travels. There was just one thing she would insist on.

Riley spun around on the table, her eyes flashing between the two men. “I will do this -- on one condition.”

Maxwell clapped his hands excitedly. “Yes! Just name it and it’s yours.”

“Max.” Rashad leaned forward in his chair, his elbows pressed into his knees. “You don’t even know what she wants yet.”

“I’m getting to that.” Maxwell turned to her with an arched brow. “Okay, Riley. What is your condition?”

She hadn’t even asked Alyssa yet, but Riley steepled her fingers and volunteered her, anyway. “My roommate has to go with me.”

“No problemo.”

“What -- Really?”

“Sure. She can ride the jet back with us and I’ll even help her find a good hotel room nearby so you two can visit … if you’re able to find time in between all the competitions, balls, traveling, lessons, and what not. It’ll be great!”

Riley shook her head adamantly, not willing to budge on the issue. “No! I want Alyssa there for all of those things. If I even have the slightest chance of being a serious contender and a fully functioning human being, I need someone there to make sure I don’t do anything stupid … and I will … a lot.  Plus, she’s my best friend, and I’m not doing this without her.”

Feeling the pressure to relent and the seconds ticking away until takeoff, Maxwell’s shoulders slumped, taking in Riley’s pleading expression. “I -- I don’t know what to do. Your friend would have to be sponsored also in order to stay with you. She would have to be a suitor and compete for Liam’s hand just like you and all the other ladies, and there can only be one sponsee for each noble house. If you’re our pick, then she would need to have someone of nobility who doesn’t have a suitor yet and knows it’s all a ... ruse …” he trailed off, grinning impishly, as an idea suddenly popped into his head. Maxwell’s gaze swept across the room and landed on his friend, Rashad, who had a deer-in-the-headlights look, knowing exactly what he was getting at.

“Oh no. Leave me out of this,” he insisted while waving his hands back and forth. “This is all on you, Maxwell.”

“No, don’t say that yet.” Riley sprang to her feet and grabbed a picture frame from a nearby table, falling to her knees in front of Rashad to beg. “This is Alyssa.” She cheerfully pointed her friend out in the picture, delighted when the Lord of Domvallier’s eyes grew and seemed more than intrigued. “She’s not only beautiful, charming, and supportive, but she’s the smartest person I know. Everyone just loves her. And even though she won’t want to win because of me, she’ll represent your house with the greatest of integrity and propriety. I swear it.” 

“It’s for Liam,” Maxwell interjected, wagging his brows. “Imagine how grateful he’ll be when he finds out your part in making this happen for him.”`

Rashad let out a heavy groan. “Max, you know I would do anything for a friend -- especially Liam -- but it’s not that simple. There’s a reason why Domvallier opted not to have a suitor join this season: I have business dealings in California that coincide with some of the competitions. And with Mother’s and Father’s health in decline, I couldn’t possibly burden them with traveling and overseeing a suitor. It just wouldn’t work.”

Riley turned to Maxwell. “Well … couldn’t she just hang out with us most of the time? It’s not like she’d be in it to win it, anyway.”

“I don’t see why not.” Maxwell shrugged. “We all travel and stay together for the most part anyway.” He glanced over at Rashad, who could do nothing but stare at the two of them bouncing like eager children with big cheshire grins, while he literally decided the fate of a woman who had no idea she had just been volunteered to “pretend” compete for the hand of a prince the entire summer, in another country, and had to board a plane in just under an hour.

Rashad sighed and took the photo from Riley’s hand, giving it a quick glance. He was definitely smitten by the bright, blue-eyed woman with the big dimpled smile and wouldn’t mind getting to know her better, particularly if she was everything described to him. “I should have gone with Drake back to the plane.” He shook his head and handed the photo back to Riley. “Can’t believe I’m doing this, but --” 

Before he even finished his thought, Maxwell and Riley leaped to their feet to celebrate, whooping and howling around him, ruffling his jet black hair, hugging, and clapping him several times on the chest.

“What’s going on?”

The three of them whipped their heads around at the raspy-sounding voice that caught their attentions.

“Lyss!” Riley’s eyes lit up at the sight of her best friend standing there; she couldn’t wait to share all the good news with her. Maxwell, and particularly Rashad’s, jaws dropped at the sight before them. They both did a double take of the picture in the frame and then back to the petite brunette who wore a rumpled party dress, was missing one flat shoe, and sported smudged mascara under her sunken eyes and hair flying in every direction.

Riley moved over to Alyssa, placing a gentle hand on her arm with a smile. “Alyssa. These gentlemen are from Cordonia -- It’s somewhere you need a plane ride for. This is Lord Maxwell Beaumont.” She gestured and received a wave back. “And this is Lord Rashad of Doberman Pinscher,” she stated in a posh accent.

“Domvallier,” he corrected, stunned and still unable to take his eyes off his new suitor.

“Lords?” she questioned in a feeble tone; Riley nodded back at her.

Alyssa smiled at the two strangers, then lowered her head and curtsied like she was wearing a ball gown before them. “How do you do? Welcome to House Devereaux-Brooks. It’s so kind of you to stop by and make our acquaintances. Please do make yourselves at home.” She straightened back up and immediately turned to Riley. “I’m dying. Where’s the Advil?”

Riley insisted Alyssa have a seat while she retrieved the Advil and a glass of water for her. Feeling that was a fair deal, Alyssa stumbled over to the couch, accidentally stepping on Maxwell, who held onto her arms and helped her the rest of the way. When she was seated, she leaned forward, rubbing soothing circles around her temples, willing the room to stop spinning. Riley shuffled back with two pills and a cool bottle of water, and handed them to Alyssa, who hastily threw back and chugged nearly the entire thing. She couldn’t remember a time when she felt so thirsty.

No one knew really how to respond just yet. Rashad conferred in hushed tones with Maxwell, as Alyssa kept her eyes closed for a moment, taking in slow, deep breaths. Everything from head to toe ached and throbbed. 

Finally, she smacked her still-dry mouth and announced, “Okay, I’m going back to bed. Goodnight, everyone. It was so nice to meet you all.” She moved to the edge of the sofa when Riley pressed lightly on her shoulders, holding her back.

“Wait a minute, Lyss. I have something I want to talk to you about.”

Lowering the shades in the living room to block the sun from Alyssa’s sensitive eyes, Riley began to explain how she met Liam at the bar last night and was asked to go out for a drink with him. Alyssa nodded her head slowly as she followed along, somewhat remembering their phone conversation about the date, how he was a prince, and the Statue of Liberty -- Lyss was proud of herself for being a part of making that happen. The next of their conversation continued on to Liam returning to his country for the social season in which he was expected to find someone to marry by the end of the summer. “I’m so sorry he had to leave, but what does any of this have to do with you, Ri?” 

Riley glanced over her shoulder. “That’s where these two guys come in.”

Alyssa followed her friend’s gaze then shook her head. “I’m not following.”

“Maxwell wants to sponsor me to travel to Cordonia to compete for Liam. And we leave in an hour. Yay!” She raised her arms in a V, trying to garner excitement from her roommate, knowing she’d probably freak out.

And she did. “YOU CAN’T GO TO A FOREIGN COUNTRY! FOR ALL YOU KNOW THESE GUYS ARE SERIAL KILLERS OR SEX TRAFFICKERS!” Alyssa looked at Rashad and smiled shyly. “Not you, of course.” She then eyed Maxwell. “Probably him.”

“I know, I know. But that’s kinda, sorta where you come in.” Riley’s eyes danced around the room while tugging on the hem of her shirt.

“What do you mean?”

Maxwell checked the time on his phone as Riley laid out the details, point by point, to her friend, who guzzled the last bit of her water as she found out she had basically been enlisted into becoming a suitor as well. Alyssa spit out her water. “WHAT?”

Rashad sighed and looked for paper towels to dry off his lap.

Taking in Alyssa’s bug-eyed stare, Riley scrambled to make the whole situation sound more appealing to her.

“There’s skiing --”

“You know I can’t ski.”

“There’s ice skating --”

“Are you trying to break both of my ankles at the same time?”

“There’s horseback riding --”

“Oh, God, horses?”

“And beaches.”

Alyssa started to complain before stopping herself. “Okay, that doesn’t sound so bad. But still, Ri --”

“Please, Alyssa,” Riley pleaded, her still-small voice just above a whisper. She sat down on the coffee table again, across from her friend, eyes glassy. “I would never ask you to do something so big for me. But, I want you there … I need you there. This … this is the guy, Lyss. He’s the one.”

Seeing the hopeful expression staring back at her, Alyssa’s heart sank. She set aside the empty bottle and leaned forward, placing a compassionate hand on Riley’s. “First of all, you don’t need me. You’re more than capable of doing this on your own. I mean, give yourself a little credit … you landed a prince.” They both let out soft laughs before she continued. “But, secondly, you know I’m a hopeless romantic. So if this is the only way you’ll go … count me in.”

As the two of them hugged and Riley expressed her fervent thanks, Maxwell cleared his throat and interrupted their happy moment. The girls turned to him as he stated, “I hate to break all of this up -- I really do. This is like the totally awesome stuff I live for -- but we’re pressed for time now. Our friend Drake is already on the plane waiting and isn’t above leaving without us.”

“Oh good. Doesn’t he sound like a little ray of sunshine?” Alyssa scoffed, causing Riley to snicker and drawing half a smirk from Rashad.

The guys headed down to the limo while the girls rummaged through their rooms, stuffing as many of their things as they could possibly fit into suitcases and bags. After taking turns getting quick showers, being vigilant of the time, they double checked to make sure they had what they needed for an extended trip, planning to  call friends and family on the drive to the airport to let them know where they would be.

Alyssa slipped on a pair of sunglasses as she stepped into the hallway, while Riley locked the door to their apartment behind them. “And you’re sure this Liam is worth all this?”

Riley regarded her thoughtfully before letting out a contented sigh, “Yeah. He’s worth it.”

Alyssa shrugged and pushed the sunglasses higher on her nose. “Well, if we don’t die, we’ll have a hell of a story to tell.”

-----------

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[taeyohonic]

Zero Percent

Summary: There is a zero percent chance the Park Jimin likes you, right?

Pairing: Jimin x fem!Reader

Genre: College AU, Golden Boy!Jimin, Actor!Jimin, Group Project Hell

Warnings: swearwords, one scene where the reader gets groped without consent (obviously not by Jimin)

Words: 5k

Monday – 9:47 am – PoliSci lecture

Everybody likes Park Jimin. Not only is he the star of the drama department – making the Dean cry with his performance as Hamlet during freshmen year. No, he is also the head of the Environmental Club and part of the most elusive fraternities on campus.

Park Jimin is kind, smart and handsome. The guy is constantly surrounded by fellow frat brothers, drooling girls and you even heard a story about a stray kitten following Jimin around, resulting in him adopting the little cat.

So, you aren’t really surprised when he doesn’t remember you – you only share two classes and one lecture with him. It does sting a bit, though.

“And you are?”, the golden star asks, looking at you with friendly distance in his eyes.

“_______”, you answer.

It follows an awkward silence – all four of you staring at each other with unease. There is no greater hell than group projects. You’ve got no friends, or even acquaintances, in this course. It isn’t like you are a recluse. You just have a very small circle of friends. And you don’t have any desire to change that.

“Well”, Jimin begins and unlocks his iPhone, “let’s start with a shared google docs.” Now he hands his device over to the girl with thick rimmed glasses. She looks like murder and you are woman enough to admit you’re a bit afraid of her. She does start your 8 am lecture with an energy drink and cold pizza. every. single. week.

“We could meet up before class next week to divide the parts among us?”, the guy to your right offers and you haven’t ever heard him speak before. He usually just sits in class and doodles in his sketchbooks. The red one he is resting on right now is the third book you’ve seen him use in the last month.

Your eyes widen as his words reach your tired brain. Meeting up before class? Before 8 am?

The girl gives you Jimin’s phone and you add your contacts half-minded. There is not even a single crack on his screen. Is this guy even real?

“How about after class?”, Jimin suggests instead and winks at you. You nearly drop his phone when you see his left eye closing in mischief. Did Jimin really just wink at you?

“Nah, I’m packed till practice”, the guy answers and takes the iPhone out of your hands.

“What about this weekend?”, the girl asks and opens her calendar.

“I could manage Sunday afternoon”, Jimin says and stores his phone back in his jeans. His way too tight jeans. The jeans you’ve been staring at all through lunch today. He was wrestling for … uhm… fun with one of his brothers – Jungkook you think – and his ass was just… very present pressed against the denim.

“Sounds good”, the sketch guy says and the girl nods in agreement. Now all of them look at you; the person that did in fact have plans for Sunday. But you doubt they’d be very understanding of your self-care day off from the week.

“Yeah, sure”, you agree reluctantly and fish out your own smartphone, an old grandfather of Jimin’s model with many cracks littering the screen. Without looking up, you delete the do not disturb block in your calendar and create a new appointment: group project politics.

“We can meet up at the PoliSci library; I’ll get us a study room”, Jimin says and stands up – his tights directly in your eyesight. There is a hint of blush on your cheeks as you pack your things together yourself.

“Great”, the other guy cheers – way too enthusiastic – and departs from your group. His sketchbook is raised as he waves at you. You turn around to the others and they are both gone too. Well, what did you expect from a group assignment worth 15% of your grade with random people? Did you see Jimin’s back as he exited the lecture room? Maybe. And did your eyes lay a bit longer on his butt? It’d be a crime if they didn’t.

**

Wednesday – 10:03 pm – dorm room

“No way!”, your roommate shouts, her voice a shrill pain in your head. “Not the Park” You just nod, your late-night ramen hot on your tongue.

“How did you manage that?”, she asks and nibs on some seaweed crackers.

“Random assignment”, you mutter as you swallow down your food.

“You lucky, lucky bitch!” She throws one half-eaten cracker in your face.

“It’s a group project, not a blind date, Jisoo.”

There is a zero percent chance that the Park Jimin is even slightly interested in you. But then you remember his wink and you up your chances to three percent.

“Let’s get some beer to celebrate!”, your roommate suggests and totally ignores your unenthusiastic posture. The day was long – after working a shift at the kiosk on campus.

“I’m tired”, you whine, but your body moves as you get dragged to your feet by Jisoo. “My noodles”, you cry. She just rolls her eyes and pushes the warm cup into your hands. “Eat them on the way.”

You grumble the whole walk to the kiosk you worked just a few hours ago. There are so much more options to get two cans of beer at 10 pm on a Wednesday, but you do get a 5% employee discount – plus the 20% for being a student.

“Do you think he’ll invite you to the fancy parties?”, Jisoo wonders and swings your entwined hands between you. Your other hand holds your food – you want to save the rest up for drinking.

“Before or after I bear his heir?” Jimin’s fraternity is legendary for its exclusive parties. In contrast to most frats, theirs is known for the tight circle of invites. These events had a hand-picked guestlist, no cheap alcohol in sight. There were even rumors that Jimin makes all partygoers use reusable cups to reduce plastic trash. You do remember reading about this in one of the columns of your university paper.

“You’ll be fat after birth, so preferably before”, she reasons. You nod – true.

“I ain’t see any fat”, a male voice slurs and then you feel hands on your butt. You turn around, recognizing a squeeze before the hand leaves your body. As you see the guy who touched you, you feel fear setting in your bones. There are three of them and they do look very drunk. The darkened ally is not the most favorable spot to meet jerks. You can see the light from your store coming up ahead, but it’s late and deserted and they touched you.

“HEY”, Jisoo shouts and moves in front of your body. “NO TOUCHING WITHOUT CONCENT!”

His two friends are shocked by her loud outbreak and take a step back, but the toucher is still standing his ground. “Yo, be chill, bitch”, he says. Oh, he did not. Before you can even think about it, your arm moves on its own account. The lukewarm soup and the noodles splash in his face, coating his shirt and dripping on the cement. The guy’s eyes widen in surprise, but then they light up with anger. Shit. “Shit”, Jisoo whispers out loud.

And then Park Jimin is there, pushing in front of you. He creates a human wall between you and the three guys. His body heaves as he breathes in fast intervals. He must have run after he heard Jisoo’s shouting.

“Back off”, the golden boy says with a calm voice. His blond hair is so close, you are sure you can smell his eucalyptus shampoo.

“Hey man, this is between me and these two bitches”, the other guy answers, insulting you again.

“You’ve got a minute till my brothers catch up”, Jimin states. “Go. Now.”

Maybe the guy was too far gone, alcohol clouding his judgment, but he needs his two buddies nearly dragging him away from you. They whisper in his ears, half bowing to Jimin. “So sorry, man”, one of them says, clearly having recognized the star student even in the dark.

Jimin doesn’t react. Instead, he turns around to you and you get to look at his angered face. “Why are you two out here? Alone? In the middle of the night? Where is your rape whistle? Hm?”, he asks. You just watch him with surprised eyes.

“Hmm?”, he questions again, stepping closer to you. Jisoo stares silently at Jimin. She has never spoken to him but has always been a strong advocate for watching his ass during lunch.

“Uhm”, you try to answer and swallow the fear from moments ago down. “We… we-were getting to the part?”

Jimin just scoffs in your face, clearly not impressed with your fumbled words. “What are you even doing out here at this time?”

You are slightly intimidated by his presence, so your finger shakes a bit as you point to the kiosk behind you. “We wanted beer.”

**

You have no idea how this happened. One second you were assaulted, then saved by Jimin. Now you’re sitting in front of the store, waiting for the guy to come back out. Jisoo is sitting next to you on the steps, her elbows on her knees. Then you hear the bell at the door and turn around to see Jimin juggling three beers under his right arm and a steaming cup of noodles in his left hand. He comes to a still before you and pushes the ramen in your hands. After that he places two bottles in front of your feet and crouches down facing you. Jimin’s face has cleared and he looks friendly enough.

“Thanks”, you whisper into your cup. Jisoo hums in agreement.

“I called one of my brothers. He’ll get the footage from one of the security cameras tomorrow”, he explains and twists his own beer open, taking a big swing.

“Why?”, you ask confused and blow at your noodles. Jimin’s eyebrows furrow.

“What do you mean why? So, we can write these bastards up”, he says, and you gasp in surprise, the noodles falling back into the cup.

“You’d… do that for us? Even though you haven’t even seen him… uhm… grabbing me?”, you question in wonder. Why would he go out on a limb for you?

Jimin just rolls his eyes at you. “Of course, I’d do that.”

He is halfway through his beer when Jisoo decides to participate in this semi silent semi one-sided conversation.

“What … were you – you know – doing out this late?”, she wants to know in the softest tone you’ve ever heard her speak in.

Jimin’s hand combs through his hair, the thick strands parted by his fingertips. “I was on a date”, he answers casually.

“On a Wednesday?” Maybe not your smartest contribution because both let out a chuckle.

“Some people date during the week”, Jisoo snorts.

“Some people do meth, Jisoo. Doesn’t mean these are good life choices. Wait – Jimin… did you leave your date to…”

“To rescue two girls from danger? Yeah.”, he finishes for you and dusts invisible dirt from his shoulders. You roll your eyes at his puffed chest and eat another bite of your food.

“Nah, I’m just messing with you”, he laughs, “I was just on my way back from dropping her off at thes dorms.”

After that, there is an awkward silence. The three of you aren’t friends – there is no connection, common interest or shared anecdotes between you. Well, apart from your group project and his unborn son. Before you can start to ramble about the specifics of the – still empty – google docs he linked you in two days ago, his cell starts vibrating.

“Yeah?”, Jimin answers absently and collects your empty bottles to dispose them into the recycling bin. His conversation is muffled at best and you look at your roommate. Again, you hear the bell ring as your coworker Jaehyung closes the door and locks the store.

He smiles down at you. “Why didn’t you come inside, ______?”, he asks in greetings and gives you a quick hug. You hold your ramen in a vice grip – you’ll not lose your second midnight snack again.

“Jimin insisted he didn’t need the 5% extra discount”, you shrug and Jaehyung looks at you funny.

“Jimin?”, he wonders and steals a bite of your noodles. Is there even a god?

“That’ll be me”, the man in question responds and locks his iPhone as he joins the extended group.

“Ah, man… I loved how you absolutely killed it last week on stage”, Jaehyung praises and pats the lead actor on the back. You couldn’t agree more. You’d been there with all the student employees from the kiosk. Jaehyung made it his mission to justify the outing as a bonding experience and teamwork task to your boss.

“This one even had tears in her eyes”, he whispers in mock secrecy and points in your face. Jimin looks at you with an unspoken question on his lips. The actor stops studying you and moves his eyes to look at your coworker, who stands very closed to your sitting figure.

“Glad you enjoyed it”, Jimin mumbles and spares a small smile. “I… really have to get to the frat soon”, he starts, “so, … I’ll better get you two to your room now.”

Jisoo stands up in a heartbeat, dragging you up as well. He’s going to walk you home?

“Nah, don’t worry, man. I’ve got this!”, Jaehyung answers. Jimin’s face is blank as he musters the scene in front of him.

“I’d really like to know that you got back okay”, he reasons and looks pointedly at your coworker.

“Their dorm is waaay out of your way, man. Just let me handle this… It’s the same direction for me anyway”, Jaehyung tries to reason and you see Jimin’s eyes flash in frustration.

Jisoo is just looking between both men, not really sure how to react. Has Jimin an ulterior motive to walk you back? Does he even want to walk you back? Is it more than just soothing his conscious?

Maybe your chances of the Park Jimin being interested in you just upped from three to fifteen percent.

“Sure”, Jimin reluctantly agrees to Jaehyung’s plan and faces you, his stare zeroing in on you.

“Write me when you get home?”, he demands more than asks and you can only nod dumbfounded.

“Just,… let me give you my number so you’ll be able to text me”, Jimin reasons and stretches his hand out to get your phone. You look at him in confusion – you exchanged numbers two days ago during class. He was the one messaging all of you.  

“I… uhm… have your number”, you tell him. His eyes widen in surprise.

“Since when?”, the campus star asks and musters you in suspicion. Your face colors instantly, a deep red tone on your cheeks, as you realize that Jimin doesn’t remember you’re in his group assignment. He… doesn’t even recognize you. You feel so embarrassed, more so when Jisoo, too, sucks in her breathe.

“Uhm”, this is… very humiliating, “we’re i- in the same.. group for our PoliSci class.”

There is a beat of silence as you see even Jimin’s cheeks dusted with a hint of red.

“Ah, right, sorry”, he says and massages his neck uncomfortably. “I didn’t recognize you without your glasses.” Kill me now.

You just laugh and swallow down the bitter taste in your mouth while moving closer to your friend. Now, he thinks you’re the murderer? There is no mercy for your pride here.

“Let’s get going, ______”, Jisoo says, way too chipper and links your arms as she pulls you away from this disaster. “Thanks again, Jimin-ssi.”

“Yeah”, you agree and bow in front of him to cover the humiliation painted across your face.

Jimin bites on his bottom lip, all too tempted to reply, but settles for a swift nod.

Then the three of you walk away and ss soon as he is out earshot, Jaehyung looks at you.

“I have never seen you wearing glasses, ______”

Well, maybe your predictions were a bit off, maybe your chances with Jimin were no more than two percent.

**

Sunday – 4:32 pm – PoliSci library

“Should we… just start?”, you ask as Jimin fiddles with his tablet. You’re both seated in one of the small study rooms of your library. There is a half-empty box of chocolates between you. Jimin presented them with a shrug – they were a present he got after his last performance, the sweets a gift from one of his fanclubs… yeah… plural.

Other than that, there is your old laptop in the desk, some of the books from your professor’s reading list spread around the table, and an empty water bottle. What is not here, is the rest of the group.

You don’t have their numbers, Jimin being the organizer out of the four of you. His is the only number that is saved in your phone and was used last Wednesday. There was a small part of you – hell, who are you kidding? – a big part of you, that didn’t want to text Jimin. After the embarrassment died down that night, you were really angry. How could he? He winked at you one day and then forgot he even knows you the next day?

You wanted him to be ashamed; having him franticly messaging the wrong girl in his group would have served him right. And judging by the sheer joy this girl is, he’d have gotten an earful calling her at midnight.

But then you didn’t want to imagine him realizing he had the wrong girl. No, you wanted to be present. So, you texted him briefly and rescheduled the reveal for this Sunday, when he’d see both of you. And now you two are alone. Perfect planning, ______.

“You texted them, right?”, you ask for the tenth time and Jimin nods, picking one more praline from the box.

“Yeah, and I also called while you were peeing”, Jimin answers and pops the dark chocolate in his mouth.

“Don’t say that word”, you say.

“What? Pee?”, he laughs, “Be happy I didn’t say piss.”

“Now you said it too”, you whine.

“What else am I supposed to say, _______?” Oh, the right name; nice.

“Going to the toilette? Stepping out for a second? Leaving the room?”, you list and grab a sweet. The air between you both isn’t exactly uncomfortable. You’ve licked your wounds over the rest of the week and can see your partner for what he is, an overachiever.

He has much on his plate, so many appointments and engagements, it’s no wonder he doesn’t remember one of the hundred of faces on campus. So, you decided to forgive him… to a certain degree. The degree being, that a.) he doesn’t even know there is an issue and b.) your big revenge fell down the drain with your female partner being a non-show.

For the last half hour, the two of you talked, mainly about organisatory stuff like due-dates and presentation formats. But then you pointed to the box of chocolates and you both strayed into more private matters. You complimented him – again – for his performance and Jimin expressed his relief that he received all-around glowing reviews. He even shared that there was a casting coach at one of the stage nights. The golden boy’s eyes lit up, as he talked about the offer to sign a contract with this coach, who was one of the most in-demands in his profession.

“We could just divide the parts evenly among us and pick the ones most to our liking”, your partner offers and shares his tablet with you.

“I doodled with a few topics last night… what do you think, _____?”, he asks, and you look at his notes. Of course, his doodles look like your versions of an exposé.

Why does he have so much resources to prep for this meeting when he can’t even filter your face?

“Yeah, the second theme looks… uhm quite promising”, you say and move to enlarge his mind map. You’re sure the first proposal is just as good, but there were a few words that you don’t even know how to pronounce.

The two of you work productively for the next half hour, separating some key elements of the theory and choosing your own parts. Jimin – being the one coming up with the whole topic – let’s you pick first. You try to decline but he is very adamant.

After you added all your points into the shared document, the both of you pack away your things and Jimin throws away the empty box of chocolates. So much for a healthy afternoon snack.

Jimin is just happily telling you he’ll sleep in tomorrow because your professor canceled your shared lecture. You can’t agree more – having moved your self-care day to tomorrow instead. You’ll skip your tutoring session in the evening, so the whole day is yours. A smile stretches across your face and you hear Jimin stumble on his words as he looks at you.

“There is a party at my frat today, if you wanne come?”, he offers and slings his backpack over his shoulders. Wait… what?

“A Bangtan Party?”, you whisper-shout and look at him – the smile frozen on your lips.

Jimin looks a bit embarrassed as he sees your excitement.

“Yeah… I could set you on the guestlist?”, he say, a bit unsure. Your brain is working overtime. The Park Jimin wants you at his party? The girl he couldn’t even remember a few days ago? A mere group project fail?

“Really?”, you ask as you feel anticipation cursing through your veins.

“Really.” Jimin’s eyes are nearly closed, a bright smile pushing his cheeks up.

Maybe… Maybe your chances of the Park Jimin being interested in you are higher than you thought, now that he knows who you are. You’ll give yourself solid 20 percent. This party is one of the most exclusive affairs on campus, why else invite you if there isn’t some interest at his end?

“Cool”, you say, “can I bring my roommate?”

Jimin nods and holds open the door, closing and locking it behind him.

“I’ll see you tonight then?”, he asks instead of saying goodbye and moves away from you. You see Jungkook… and is that Namjoon?... waiting two aisles behind you, talking to each other in hushed voices. You wave at Jimin in affirmation and turn around.  

**

“Don’t you think this is way too short?”, you ask – your insecurity slipping right out as you brush over the fabric of your dark red metallic skirt. Jisoo and you have been getting ready for the last few hours, which entailed not only some very hairspray-intense styling but also a tree diagram being constructed on the back of your pre-game nachos. Your roommate collected and rated every clue you gave her regarding the Park Jimin mystery – of course only after she squealed for a good minute.

“No touching my stuff”, Jisoo scolds and knocks away your fidgeting hands. She added ten percent to your prediction because she upvoted him rescuing you – and staring at Jaehyung in frustration – way higher than his misjudgment of forgetting your name and face. Even thought you pointed out that Jimin was on a date clearly indicating he maybe isn’t even emotional available.

“Your stuff is on my body, though”, you argue as both of you walk to the frat house. Their house isn’t that far off campus but it still is a 20 minute walk. You’ve got your pepper spray with you this time even if you left your rape whistle at home. There are few students out this evening, tomorrow being Monday making most of them stay in tonight. Before you can take the last turn do that their house comes into view, there is a person calling your name from behind.

You look and see the sketchbook guy from your group project jogging towards you. Jisoo looks at you questionably, not recognizing him. There is suppressed anger on your face and you try really hard not to be too mean to the person who left you and Jimin waiting today.

“Yeah?”, you ask and look at the slightly out of breath guy now in front of you. He’s got a gym bag over his shoulders, his running shoes still on his feet.

“Good workout today?”, you add with slight sarcasm in your voice. There seems to be a slight issue in translation because he just smiles wider at you as he gives you a small bow.

“Thanks to you, of course”, he answers, and you are this close to hitting a person today.

“What?”, you hiss and try to control your anger. This useless excuse of a PoliSci major will not lower your standards. Now the guy looks at you with a puzzled expression on his face – clearly not expecting you to me so hostile.

“You know? Yo- you and Jimin offering to do the selecting and dividing by yourselves really helped me out today.” Come again?

“What?”, you repeat this time without venom in your voice. His face moves to the side as he musters you carefully.

“Uhm… Jimin called on Thursday… telling us not to bother coming on Sunday”, he explains slowly as if you’re the dumb one. Jimin did what?

“What?”, you ask for a third time and now he and Jisoo look at you with worry.

“He.. he.. I mean Jimin – he mentioned that you two were totally fine with doing it alone… Mina and I offered to finalize and proofread the presentation in return”, he continues and you are just confused. So, so confused.

Why would Jimin lie to them – and to you?

“Ehm.. I’m sorry…”, you look at him sheepishly. He seems to understand and adds “Wobin”.

“Yeah, right… Wobin… this is a huge misunderstanding … let me – uhm talk to Jimin”, you say, the confusion slowing down your word flow.

Wobin looks at Jisoo in question and she just shrugs. “You’re staying with her?”, he asks her and she nods. “We haven’t had that much to drink… I think she just needs a minute. Thanks tough, Wobin”, Jisoo calmly states and your partner leaves with an uncertain wave.

“_______?”, another voice joins – because why not make it a whole convention here on the sidewalk literarily five minutes away from your destination. You turn to the male voice and see non other than Jungkook walking towards you with hurried steps.

“Hmm?”, you answer, still reeling from the confession mere minutes ago.

“What are you doing out here alone by yourselves?”, he questions as he catches up. Jisoo is frozen next to you – even tough Jimin is without question the hottest guy at your university, Jungkook is by far the most dangerous. Combined, they are lethal.

“We were just on our way to your house”, you offer and point in the direction of the frat.

“Yeah, I get that”, he says, “but why are you out here alone?”

“You can see Jisoo, right?”, you ask, not sure of anything tonight and look at your roommate.

Jungkook scoffs and shakes his head – clearly not impressed.

“After last Wednesday you’re still walking around alone at night?”, he wants to know. Last Wednesday? Wait how does he know about that?

“Who told you?”

Now Jungkook looks as worried as Wobin before. “Jiminie told me? Hadn’t I stayed longer at practice I would have been with him when he found you.”

“Practice?”, you ask.

“Yeah,… we’re preparing a inprov show to celebrate the anniversary of the drama department, you know?”, he explains and adds after he sees your expression: “Hasn’t Jimin mentioned anything?”

No, Jimin did in fact not mention he wasn’t actually leaving from a date but a late-night practice that day.

“He has been wreaking havoc since that night”, Jungkook shares. “Every brother had to sign up to cover a shift patrolling common paths during school nights.”

Now, he points at himself. “Today is my night so I’ll escort you to our mansion.”

Jisoo just looks at him like he grew a second head.

“You’re pepping for an improvisation show?”, she asks slowly as the three of you begin to walk.

This is the thing Jisoo has a problem with? Really? You feel your head spin while you try to make sense of the last two encounters.

Jimin didn’t go on a date last Wednesday. Jimin himself uninvited your partners from todays meeting. You shared chocolates with a liar.

“Wait… Jungkook?”, you ask not even looking at him. “Do you guys get a lot of gifts after your performances?” The student just laughs and shakes his head.

“Nah, we’re not allowed to anymore. The presents were getting out of hands. I mean… Seokjin-hyung even got a gold bar once, a fucking gold bar.”

You speed up your steps as you see the frat house in front of you, few people mingling around the entrance. There is a guy standing at the door and you’re trying to get your student ID out of the bag – your thoughts making your hands shake.

Jungkook comes up behind you and just shoves you inside, saluting the other guy with a cheeky grin. You don’t have much time taking in the décor, but you do notice how small the group of students are mingling around the living room. There is soft R&B playing from a stereo and you see the infamous reusable cups full of alcoholic mixtures.

And then you see Jimin, how ridged he is standing in front of the fireplace, bottled water in hand. His eyes zero in on you and the blooming smile quickly freezes when he notices your disheveled state. You step around some guys on the couch, making your way towards him. He places his water on the mantlepiece.

“______”, he greets you and you hear the tension in his voice. He knows, you know – maybe not how much, but Jungkook trailing behind you with a guilty look tells him that you know enough.

“Jimin”, you start, completely unsure which lie you should focus on, your brain jumping around in circles.

“______”, he whispers and takes a step closer to you.

“Jimin”, you try again to form a coherent sentence.

Before his lips meet yours in a shy confession, you think to yourself:

Maybe there is a 99 percent chance of Park Jimin being interested in you.

________

there is... no logical explanation for this story, other than me having war flashbacks while thinking about group projects at university. did you enjoy this oneshot? Please tell me if you find this Jimin as "perfect" as I did (apart from manipulating the OC). did/do you have similar experiences with group work? I always hated it. with a passion. thanks for reading and feel yourself hugged (if you want to) from, dana

[pickalilywrites]

a little smth for halloween ~ smth for the playlist

----------

Heart Skips a Beat

Rivetra. College/University AU. 

10012 words. 

Read on AO3!

“We should get back to the dorms.” 

“Why? I’m completely sober,” Petra says. Slowly. Carefully. Her words are perfectly coherent the way any sober person’s would be. If you ask her, it’s pretty impressive after downing half a dozen shots of very disgusting (but very invigorating) vodka. She can still feel the burn of it going down her throat even though it must have been half an hour ago since she actually drank it. She feels like she could breathe fire if she tried. “You’re just jealous because my alcohol tolerance is amazing.” 

A rock appears under Petra’s foot and she stumbles over it, nearly falling flat on her face. 

“Right,” Rico scoffs. “Because a completely drunk person wouldn’t have been able to avoid a rock.” 

Petra huffs, straightening out the nurse’s cap on top of her head. “If anything, this just proves how right I am. A drunk person would have totally tripped and ate shit, which I didn’t do, if you hadn’t noticed.” She gestures at herself - her completely inaccurate nurse costume that shows off far more than it covers with white fishnet stockings and red heels, nurse’s cap sitting lopsided on her head - smiling proudly. “The people at the party back there were super wasted in comparison.” 

They hadn’t gone to very many parties during their previous years - just the occasional ones that were thrown by their class when they were awkward freshmen and sophomores - and Hanji had just decided to drag them to the annual Halloween party thrown by a fraternity a few streets off the main campus. (The school claims that they’re not affiliated with the fraternity, but they’re not fooling anyone. Their campus revolves around Greek life.) Fraternity parties were on an entirely different level than other parties Petra had been to. For one thing, everyone was a lot more obnoxious, but that was forgivable a few drinks in. Before she knew it, she was laughing in the bathroom with a bunch of girls from the rowing team that she swore she couldn’t stand at the beginning of the year. They even let her take their pulses as if she was a real nurse. Maybe Petra’s costume was more convincing than she had thought. 

Overall, it was a good experience. Petra now has new numbers in her phone from contacts that she won’t remember the next morning, Rico bobbed for apples with a tall, handsome stranger in a Batman costume with cheekbones so sharp they could probably cut diamonds, and Hanji has enough donations from kind, drunk strangers to fund the chemistry club for the rest of the academic year. Really, it was a win for all of them. 

“You’re going to wake up with a wicked hangover,” Hanji says with a roll of their eyes, but they smile at Petra fondly (albeit a bit awkwardly because of the plastic vampire teeth that sit crookedly in their mouth). They wrap an arm around Petra, long black cloak covering the pre-law student-turned-nurse for the night. “Come on, Nurse Petra. Let’s sleep off the alcohol and I’ll get you an ibuprofen in the morning. I’ll even let you cuddle with Rico.” 

“What?” Rico squawks indignantly. She waves her broom about as if to ward Hanji and Petra away. “I didn’t agree to this! Don’t crawl in my bed. I don’t want you to get sick all over the sheets.” 

Petra sticks her lower lip out in a pout. “That was only one time! And it was an accident. I didn’t drink nearly as much this time!” She unlatches herself from Hanji’s side and stumbles over to Rico, looping her arm around the witch’s. Even as Rico leans away, Petra tries to plant kisses on her friend’s cheek. “You’re so cold now, Rico. If you’re not going to cuddle with me, who is? Do you want me to go to sleep cold and alone?” 

Rico brings a hand to Petra’s face for an affectionate pat. “Yes,” the witch replies with a wicked smile. She wrestles her arm away, leaving Petra to stand by herself as she and Hanji walk away. 

Petra has never felt such cold-hearted rejection in her life. Her skin is prickling with gooseflesh just at the memory of Rico’s heartless smile as she left Petra to fend for herself. Or maybe it’s just the fact that it’s nearly midnight and freezing and the skirt of her nurse outfit barely covers her ass. 

“You’re the worst!” she howls with a stomp of her foot. Tears prickle at the corner of her eyes. She’s absolutely heartbroken and all Rico can do is roll her eyes. Petra expects Hanji to embrace her or at least give her some sympathy, but all the vampire does is snicker behind their elbow as Petra’s bottom lip wobbles and tears trickle down her face. 

“I’d offer to let you sleep with me, Pet, but my bed’s a mess,” laughs Hanji. They cock their head to the side, an impish smile on their face. Perhaps Petra would have noticed how mischievous her friend’s grin was if she weren’t so distraught over the thought of not having anyone to cuddle with tonight. Hanji crooks a finger over for Petra to come closer, which the nurse does after much pouting and sniffling. They throw an arm around Petra once more. “Why don’t you try asking someone?” 

“I don’t …,” Rico begins with a frown, but Hanji quickly hushes her. 

“You made a lot of friends, didn’t you? Why don’t you ask one of them?” Hanji says. Behind them, Rico begins to protest once more but Hanji just waves her away with a hand. The sight makes Petra feel a little giddy. Rico absolutely deserves to be brushed off the same way she brushed off Petra just a few minutes ago. It’s what she gets for being so cold-hearted. 

“Mm, alright! That’s a good idea,” Petra hums happily. She looks through her phone, her smile quickly transforming into a frown when she realizes that she doesn’t recognize any of these names. Some of them aren’t even names but descriptions of people’s costumes - wolf, firefighter, fairy - many of which are terribly misspelled. That’s only if they were lucky enough to have a description. There’s a surprising number of entries that are just random key smashes that definitely don’t make up any known words in the English language. The depressing sight of her phone contacts is starting to make Petra tear up again. “I don’t know any of these people.” 

“Oh jeez, you’re a lot more far gone than I thought you were,” Hanji says with a little bit of a giggle. “Well, you must have talked to them at some point, or how else would you have their numbers in your phone?” 

Offended, Petra hiccups. “Don’t blame it on me! Rico probably bewitched my phone or something,” she sniffs as if this a more plausible explanation. She’s too drunk to remember that Rico isn’t really a witch and that they’re only wearing costumes. In her defense, Rico’s witch costume is really good. Even her eyeglasses are spooky tonight with little bats dangling on some kind of chain. “I don’t want to just cuddle with any random person. I want to have some kind of connection with that person. We have to have had at least one conversation.” 

“This is ridiculous,” Rico mutters. She snatches Petra’s phone and waggles it in the nurse’s face. “You talked with them enough to get their phone numbers. Isn’t that conversation enough?” 

“I haven’t talked to any of them before!” Petra insists. She looks over at Hanji for help, but they’re looking pensively in the distance at something Petra can’t see. Wanting attention, Petra shuffles over and tugs on the vampire’s cape. “Hanji, back me up!” 

“How would you like to talk to someone that might cuddle with you, Petra?” Hanji asks. They tug their cape from Petra’s hands. Normally, this would have offended Petra but she’s too busy staring wide-eyed at Hanji after hearing their suggestion. 

“Talk to someone?” Petra repeats. She looks at Hanji eagerly, eyes growing wide. “Who?” 

“Hanji, you can’t just have her talk to a random stranger!” Rico hisses, but Hanji ignores her. 

“Shh, it’s fine,” Hanji assures her. They turn to Petra, patting her lovingly atop her nurse’s cap. “You see those guys over there? They’re dressed like EMTs. Very thoughtful, caring guys who want to look out for people. Maybe you should ask one of them if they’re interested.” 

Petra looks to where Hanji is pointing and sees four guys dressed like EMTs sitting on one of those carts student EMTs ride around to (almost) run over other students when getting from place to place. She can’t really tell if they’re good-looking from where she is even when she squints, but the fact that they’re dressed as EMTs is pretty attractive already. Most guys go for a police outfit, but that’s a little overrated now. Firemen are an improvement, but the costumes tonight were bulky unless they were going as a sexy fireman, which was a bit of an overkill. Even drunk, Petra’s brain couldn’t fathom why a fireman would be shirtless to fight fires. It just seems dangerous. But an EMT. Their uniforms are plain but still fitted enough to be attractive, navy blue over taut arms that probably gave the best hugs. EMTs aren’t nearly as recognized as firemen and policemen and they save so many lives, which is incredibly sexy. 

“Which one should I talk to?” Petra asks Hanji, tears gone. She’s too distracted to remember what she was crying about just moments ago. 

 “Maybe the short one,” Hanji suggests, pointing at the one sitting in the back of the cart. He’s flipping through his phone, the screen lighting up his face. 

“The cute one,” Petra agrees even though that’s not what Hanji had said at all. 

“Hey, don’t you know him?” Rico asks Hanji. 

Hanji nods, but Petra doesn’t notice. She’s too busy tugging on the skirt of her dress and wondering if the amount of cleavage she’s currently showing off is a turn-off. Is there really such a thing as too much cleavage? 

Petra pulls her stocking up over her knees and stands up proudly. “How do I look?” she asks. She does a little twirl so that her friends can properly inspect her. She’s a little disappointed when neither Rico nor Hanji cheer, but she’s not too surprised. Maybe if they had drank more vodka like she had, then they would have a little more energy. 

“Wait, let me just,” Rico mumbles before reaching into her black clutch and pulling out some tissues. She dabs a little bit at Petra’s face, wiping away the nurse’s snot and tears. She holds another tissue to Petra’s nose. “Blow,” she commands. 

Petra obeys. Even as Rico grimaces, Petra feels a great appreciation for her friend. She even begins to tear up again. “I didn’t know you cared so much about me, Rico,” she pouts. “You’re usually always so cold.” 

“I’m always a good friend, you’re just drunk,” Rico replies. “And stop crying. You’ll ruin your makeup and nobody will want to cuddle with you.” 

“You look perfect, Pet,” Hanji assures her. They whirl Petra around and give her an encouraging smack on the butt. “Go get ‘em!” 

Fueled by her friends’ encouragement (well, Hanji’s encouragement, really) Petra begins to skip over to the EMT cart parked on the grass. She would have happily skipped over the entire way if she hadn’t tripped over her foot and almost face-planted on the cement. She doesn’t want to fall on her face in front of the cute EMT guy. She wants to make a good impression. So a little less happily, Petra walks with one foot in front of the other until she makes her way to the EMT cart. It takes a lot longer than she would have thought. The route was more of a strange, loopy path than it was a straight line, but Petra’s feet aren’t entirely cooperating with her at this point. It doesn’t matter though, she thinks, as long as she makes it to her destination, which she absolutely does. 

They’re murmuring to themselves, casting curious side glances at her when she approaches. Petra finds the attention flattering, although she does notice that the EMT that she had set her eyes on doesn’t look up from his phone even when she stands right in front of him. The rest of his party looks over at her though, watching and waiting to see what will happen. 

Maybe he has an important message to take, Petra thinks as she waits patiently for him to look up, but he continues to scroll mindlessly through his phone. Impatient, Petra coughs to catch his attention but he still ignores her. It’s rude, she thinks, to ignore someone as pretty as her. She stomps her foot, thinking that it’ll be enough to get the guy to look at her but he doesn’t even flinch even as the rest of his friends jump. It’s twice as frustrating once Petra realizes her heel is stuck in the grass and no amount of yanking will get it out. Humiliated, she steps barefoot on the grass, staring at her toes and wishing she had painted her toenails even though she’s never painted her toenails in her life. Maybe she should start. 

This is all the stupid EMT’s fault, Petra thinks. Stupid EMT and his stupidly attractive ability to ignore her. Or maybe he’s just playing hard to get. Is he?

Petra puts a finger on his phone and pushes it down. The interruption finally gets a reaction out of the EMT, but it’s not exactly the one Petra wants. He doesn’t look intrigued or even a little bit curious as he lifts his head. He looks bored. Maybe even a little bit annoyed. Why is that so sexy to her? 

“Pay attention to me,” Petra tells him, but he just looks from side to side as if she’s speaking to someone else. 

“Uh, Levi, I think she’s talking to you,” says the EMT in the driver’s seat while the rest of their friends gawk at Petra. 

“Your name’s Levi?” Petra asks. It’s not a lot of information, but she’ll take what she can get. She takes a seat next to him behind the EMT cart, snuggling up a little too closely to him so that their thighs touch. 

He finally puts his phone down, but he doesn’t check her out the way most people did at the party. He looks first at the little white cap on her head and then at her face, staring as if looking for something. “Do I know you?” he finally asks when he doesn’t recognize her. 

“No, but I want to get to know you,” Petra replies. She thought the answer would impress him - it’s cute, flirty, and earnest - but his lips just curl in a sneer and she almost wants to scream at him. 

“You’re one of Hanji’s friends, aren’t you?” asked another EMT, the one sitting directly behind Petra and Levi. He has curly, sandy hair and a long face that Petra doesn’t think suits his EMT costume. He would have been better off dressed as an elf from the Lord of the Rings or maybe a wizard. 

Petra doesn’t know if she should confirm or deny it. The EMT guys might run off with one of her friends instead. It would be unfair for Rico to run off with the EMTs and the sexy Batman with the amazing cheekbones. Petra would be fine with Hanji running off with one of the EMTs (and maybe even the other ones), but she wants to make sure she gets her first pick. She decides to play coy instead. 

“Maybe.” 

Levi looks over in the distance where Hanji and Rico are watching, Hanji barely containing their giggles. “That makes more sense,” he says. He turns to Petra again, his expression a little less cold. “Did they tell you to talk to me?” 

“No,” Petra huffs. “I wanted to talk to you myself. Because you’re cute and I want someone to sleep with.” 

Someone behind them chokes. 

“We’ll just … leave you two alone,” says the driver, shuffling out of the car. The others follow, the sandy-haired one a little more reluctantly than the others. 

“We’re still on our shift,” Levi calls back. 

“It’s fine,” the driver says, waving his hand awkwardly as he leads his team far enough away to not overhear the conversation. Petra should thank him sometime for being so sweet and thoughtful. She half-regrets not chasing after him first, but maybe she’ll think about asking him if this guy rejects her. Which won’t happen, of course. It’s just safe to have a backup plan. 

Petra returns her attention to the first cute EMT she had laid eyes on. “Let’s sleep together,” she says. 

“You should at least buy me dinner first,” Levi tells her. 

Petra frowns. She hadn’t anticipated this being a serious courtship, but if he wanted dinner, then she would have to get him dinner. She reaches into her bra and pulls out a five-dollar bill, some candy corn, and a Kit Kat bar that’s probably melting in its wrapper. She probably would have had more money if she actually had pockets, but her slutty nurse costume would not allow it. Then again, women’s clothing rarely had pockets anyway. It probably would have been smarter to bring a purse like Rico, but she didn’t have one that matched her costume. 

“I have five dollars,” she informs the EMT. It’s probably not enough to buy dinner, but her drunken mind is hopeful. Maybe he’ll take pity on her and cuddle with her for a bag of chips from a nearby vending machine. She holds out the money and candy to the EMT.

“That’s …” Levi looks as if he’s at a loss for words. He pauses for a moment before closing his hands over Petra’s. His hands are unexpectedly large for his short stature, his palms are calloused but his touch is gentle. “It’s okay, you don’t have to buy me dinner.” 

“So you’ll sleep with me?” she asks hopefully. 

“Why do you want to sleep with me anyway?” asks Levi. 

“Because you’re cute and we’re, like, matching,” she tells him, pointing at her costume and then at his EMT uniform. “It’s like fate or something.” 

He blinks at her. “Do you think I’m wearing a costume?” he asks. He frowns when he sees Petra nod at him eagerly. “This isn’t a costume. I’m actually a student EMT. Look, I have my … stuff.” He pats at his pockets as he tries to find a tool on his person that will prove his profession. His hand finds the radio strapped to his belt and he unhooks it, holding it up so that Petra can see the initials of their college printed on the side as well as the words Student EMT. 

Petra gazes at the radio and then nods seriously. “You did really well with your costume. I have props too!” She grabs at the stethoscope hanging around her neck, yanking it off and handing it over to Levi. She doesn’t remember having the stethoscope at the beginning of the night - she’s not even sure if one came with her costume or if someone dressed as a doctor gave it to her - but she’s glad she has it now. Maybe Levi will be more impressed once he sees how realistic her nurse costume is, even if she’s wearing fishnets and high heels that would definitely not be allowed in any type of hospital environment. 

The EMT looks at the fake stethoscope warily, but he takes it anyway. “You know I’m a premed, right?” he asks as he turns the prop in his hands. He raises an eyebrow at Petra. “I’m really a student EMT.” 

“Yeah, and I’m pre-law,” she replies. She pauses, thinking for a moment. “Wait, I mean I’m a nursing student,” she backtracks. 

“Sure,” says Levi in a tone that says he doesn’t believe her at all. 

Beside him, Petra pouts, her cheeks puffing out. What does she have to do to get this guy to sleep with her? “Look,” she says. “It’s just a one-night thing. Don’t overthink it. It’s just …” Petra waves her hand and looks up at the sky as if the stars have the words she’s looking for. When she finally remembers what she’s going to say, she points a finger at the EMT, poking him in the chest. “A night of companionship. I don’t know why you’re playing so hard to get. It’s not that big of a deal.” 

“If it’s not a big deal, then you can ask anyone else, can’t you?” Levi asks, swatting her hand away although he doesn’t do it with malice. He sounds a little annoyed, but he doesn’t make an effort to tell Petra to get lost. She takes it as a sign that he likes her, even if it’s just a little bit. 

Petra lets out a high-pitched whine because she’s far too drunk and upset to come up with any words right now. 

“Stop, stop, stop making that noise!” Levi hisses, panicking because the noise is attracting the attention of tipsy passersby that are stumbling home from other Halloween parties. His request is only met with an even louder high-pitched noise from Petra, forcing him to clamp his hands over her mouth. 

In the distance, Hanji and Rico watch, the vampire barely able to contain their laughter. 

Petra blinks at the EMT. It might be because she’s drunk or maybe it’s because she’s in love, but he looks very pretty up close. Even if he glares at her like he’s about to kill her, she can’t help but notice what a clear crystal blue his eyes are and how nicely they contrast with his jet-black hair. She reaches up, trying to pry his hand off her mouth so she can tell him just exactly how attractive he is, but the guy is crazy strong. Who knew EMTs could be so jacked? 

“If I take my hand off your mouth, will you promise to be quiet?” he asks. 

She nods. 

Levi removes his hand and Petra takes a deep breath of the night air, cold as it hits her lungs. He watches her cautiously as if he’s afraid she’ll let out another piercing whine, but she doesn’t. He relaxes beside her. 

They sit like that for a while, Levi watching Petra as she sits sullenly beside him, just breathing deeply and glaring at him every once in a while. 

The EMT leans forward, elbow resting on his knee and chin in his hand. He prods Petra with her foot, the touch making her jump. “Hey, you’re awfully quiet now.” 

“You told me to be quiet,” Petra mumbles. 

He rolls his eyes. “Just don’t make that noise again.” 

“Okay,” she agrees brightly. She scoots over, her thigh against his again, and beams at his tired expression. “Does that mean—?” 

“You’re very drunk,” he replies. 

Petra makes an offended noise. “Why does everyone keep saying that? I’m perfectly sober,” she tells him. She starts to stand up, wobbling at the end of the EMT vehicle. She’s not sure what she’s going to do, but she wants it to be impressive. Maybe a cartwheel or something amazing. “Would a drunk person be able to do this—?” Before she can do anything, Levi yanks her back down. 

“You’re at that level of drunk where you could probably do anything if you really wanted to. But you don’t have to prove any of it to me,” Levi says. His hand is still firmly around her wrist in case she tries to do something dangerous. “But you did just stumble over here - in a very crooked line, I might add - and propositioned me, a complete stranger, for sex.” 

“I did what? No, I didn’t.” Petra wrinkles her nose. She has no idea how he got that idea. Maybe it’s her dress? But he didn’t seem very judgemental about it before. Maybe he was a lot more attracted to her than she had thought. “I just asked you to sleep with me. Like …” Petra wrestles her hand away from Levi so she can tangle her index fingers and wiggle them together, a gesture that does absolutely nothing to clarify what she means to Levi. “You know, like cuddling.” 

Levi just stares. 

“You can’t really be a pre-med if you couldn’t even figure that out,” Petra snorts. 

Exasperated, the EMT runs his hands through his hair. When he looks back up, his hair is sexily tousled back away from his forehead. Petra’s not sure if it was intentional or not, but it’s a good look on him. 

“And you couldn’t ask your roommates?” 

“They said no,” Petra whines. Her bottom lip is sticking out again, but he seems impervious to any kind of pouting. 

“You can’t just, I don’t know, hug a teddy bear?” he asks. 

“Stuffed animals lack the warmth and affection humans do,” Petra replies. She clings to Levi’s arm, blinking up at him through mascaraed eyelashes. “Please?” 

He opens his mouth and Petra is almost certain that he’s about to refuse her again but she bats her lashes at him and the EMT almost chokes. He coughs, pounding a fist against his chest while Petra rubs his back sympathetically. When he’s finally caught his breath, he looks at her and says, very calmly, “I don’t think you understand. You’re very, very drunk.” 

The fact that they’re still playing this game makes Petra want to scream in frustration, but she doesn’t want another hand clamped over her mouth. Instead, she smiles very sweetly at the EMT and repeats, “Yes. I’m very, very, very, very, very drunk.” 

“And even if I wanted to sleep with you, I’m still on my shift,” Levi says, gesturing towards his getup. 

Geez, he’s so dedicated to his costume. Petra’s not sure whether she should be impressed or annoyed. She decides to just go along with it and nods. “You can just wear the costume then. I won’t mind.” She doesn’t really make a habit of asking complete strangers to spoon with her in bed, but she’s not opposed to them wanting to roleplay in bed as long as they don't make it weird. And at least Levi looks hot in his EMT outfit. It might be kind of hot, actually. 

“This isn’t … nevermind,” Levi says with a frustrated sigh. He rubs his face in his hands and then looks at Petra, who’s still looking at him with the same hopeful expression she’s been looking at him with all night. “What if I just gave you my phone number?” 

“Your phone number?” she repeats. A new phone contact means a new friend, which means someone new to distract her from reading case files. It sounds like a good idea, but then … “Does this mean you won’t sleep with me?” 

“If you ask me again when you’re sober, I might consider it,” he tells her. He holds out his hand. 

Petra looks Levi up and down. “Will you still be wearing your costume?” she asks curiously. 

“I …” Levi looks down at himself and sighs again. “Most likely. Now hand over your phone. I’ll give you my number.” He gestures for Petra to give him her phone. 

“Okay,” Petra says happily. She fishes her phone out of her bra, ignoring the scandalized look on Levi’s face, and plops it into the EMT’s hands. Her head rests on his shoulder as she watches him put in his contact information. 

“You can only call me from here,” he tells her as he finishes inputting his name. “I don’t have text at this number.” 

It’s awfully inconvenient, but Petra won’t complain. It was such a struggle just to get anything out of him tonight. Maybe he’ll be friendlier tomorrow when she calls. When Levi hands her back her phone, Petra looks at her screen and frowns at her new contact. 

“Why did you put your name as EMT?” she asks. 

“Those are my initials,” he replies. 

“Ah,” Petra nods as if this makes perfect sense and, really, it does when you’re drunk enough. “Is that why you dressed up as an EMT?” 

“Sure,” he says amusedly. He gets off the back of the cart and pulls Petra’s heels from out of the grass. Petra is about to reach for them and put them on herself, but Levi is already kneeling down and helping her into them. The experience makes her feel a little bit like Cinderella. “Call me if you’re having trouble getting home or something.” 

“Shouldn’t I be calling you when I make it home okay?” she wonders. 

“No,” Levi says. He holds out a hand to help her up. He looks at her for a moment before shrugging off his EMT windbreaker and wrapping it around her. “It’s cold tonight. Can you make it over to your friends okay or do you want me to walk you over?” 

Petra doesn’t respond. The only thing she can think about right now is how unexpectedly gentlemanly he was with his jacket. She doesn’t really know what to do with the windbreaker so Levi helps her put her arms through it so she can wear it properly, her heart skipping a beat when he zips it up and she realizes just how warm she is now that she has the jacket. 

“I think my heart just stopped,” she tells him. 

“Really?” Levi asks with an eyebrow raised. He pauses for a moment and, when he makes sure Petra hasn’t fallen over from cardiac arrest, he pats her on the head. She almost whines from how gently he does it. “You’re fine. Go to your friends. And remember to call if you need help.” 

“Okay,” Petra says, a little dazed even as Levi turns her around and she begins to stumble back to her friends. She would have skipped, but she almost broke her ankle after taking the first step and the EMT seemed very concerned about her safety. Petra didn’t want to make him worry. 

“You’re back,” Hanji says, holding out their arms for Petra to run into. 

“I’m back~” Petra sings as she throws her arms around Hanji. 

“What about your cuddle buddy?” asks Rico. 

Petra goes limp, Hanji being the only thing to hold her up. The tips of her shoes drag as Hanji carries the nurse awkwardly back towards their dorm. “He said I was too drunk to sleep with, so he gave me his number,” Petra mumbles into the soft silky-fabric of Hanji’s cape. The more she thinks about Levi and his gentle EMT hands, the more teary-eyed she gets. Her nose starts to run and tears prickle the corner of her eyes. “But I think he ran away with my heart.” 

“Aw,” Hanji says sympathetically as they pat Petra on the head. “You’ll get him next time, Pet.” 

Petra falls asleep with her head on Hanji’s shoulder and dreams of a raven-haired EMT with careful hands and pretty blue eyes. 

----------

Petra wakes up with a pounding headache that starts at the back of her eyes and only gets worse from there. She squints, covering her eyes from the little light that streams in from the curtains in her bedroom. Her eyes feel swollen, like she had been crying all night. Her throat is unbearably dry, but her mouth tastes oddly of mint instead of the gross morning breath that usually follows after a night of reckless drinking. Rico probably brushed her teeth for her last night and, Petra thinks as she takes a glance at her person, dressed her in her pajamas too. 

With a moan, Petra rolls off her bed, her blankets wrapped around her to cushion her fall as she crashes onto the ground. She’d groan at the pain, but everything hurts and a fall doesn’t make much of a difference at this point. She sits up, shaking her head so that her hair isn’t all over her face anymore, and scoots on her butt, only getting up once on her knees to pull open the door before continuing her scooting until she finds herself in the living room. Rico and Hanji are sitting at the dining table watching her with amused expressions on their faces. 

Petra rolls over onto her face so that she doesn’t have to look at the lighting in the kitchen. Everything is so fucking bright. 

“How are you feeling, Pet?” Hanji asks as they munch on a sandwich that Petra was pretty sure was hers. 

“I feel like shit,” Petra mumbles into the carpet. The nylon on the floor scratches against her cheek, but it feels strangely pleasant rubbing against her skin. She nuzzles her face harder against it before she realizes that it’s been a while since any of them vacuumed. Maybe the alcohol isn’t entirely out of her system yet. Petra rolls over. “What time is it?” 

“It’s almost 2,” Rico replies, nibbling on a cracker. The soup she’s eating smells incredibly enticing, but Petra doesn’t think she can stomach food at the moment. “You’ve been sleeping for over twelve hours.” 

Petra groans again, pulling the blankets over her head. “Why did you guys let me drink that much?” 

“Well, we tried to stop you, but you’re awfully convincing,” Hanji says. A piece of lettuce hangs from their mouth. “Your law career is looking promising.” 

“Thanks,” Petra grumbles. She lays on the carpet for a few more moments before she decides she should try to become a decent human being again. With an unholy moan, she manages to stand upright and hop over to the kitchen table, her blankets still wrapped around her. 

“Eat something,” Rico says. She pushes the rest of her chicken soup towards Petra, but her roommate only shakes her head. 

“I don’t think I’m gonna be able to eat anytime soon,” Petra mumbles, resting her head on the table. The surface is nice and cool against her skin. 

“Just drink the broth then,” Rico tells her, pushing the soup even closer. 

Petra lifts her head and takes a sniff. The smell of chicken soup - a mixture of hearty broth, succulent chunks of chicken, diced carrots and celery, and sweet kernels of corn - is incredibly enticing even as her stomach churns uneasily. It couldn’t hurt to just take a sip of the soup, Petra decides. 

“Fine.” She leans over and laps up some of the broth like a dog. Warmth fills her mouth, slips down her throat, and fills her belly. It’s so good that she lets out a whimper. 

Her roommates watch her - Rico with an expression close to disgust while Hanji’s is closer to fascination. Petra ignores the both of them and continues to lap up the broth, sometimes managing to get in a kernel of corn or two too. She hopes she’ll be able to keep this down because it tastes so damn good. 

“So are you going to call that guy?” Hanji asks. 

Petra looks up from her soup and only blinks at Hanji in confusion. “What guy?” 

“The one from yesterday,” Hanji reminds her. Their chin rests in their hand as they watch Petra. “You know. The EMT.” 

She does vaguely recall talking with someone dressed as an EMT yesterday, although she doesn’t remember much of their conversation. Petra takes a pause on drinking her soup and tries to remember the rest of their conversation, only coming up with bits and pieces. He had friends that left them alone for a bit. She talked with him and she remembers him having very gentle hands. And she does remember that he gave her his number … so that she could ask him to sleep with him another time. 

“Oh my god,” Petra moans as the bits and pieces of last night begin to fall into place. Her head falls and it probably would have hit the table if Hanji hadn’t reached out to act as a cushion. She doesn’t know why her head feels impossibly heavy this morning when it was clearly empty of any thought last night. “I asked him to sleep with me, didn’t I?” 

“You did,” Rico confirms. 

“And I didn’t specify …?” She looks up at Hanji, who only snickers at her. With a groan, she lets her head fall again, forehead falling so hard against Hanji’s hand that they pull it back with a yelp. 

She doesn’t know why she’s so mortified. She’ll probably never see the guy again seeing as last night was the first time they’ve ever interacted in all the years that Petra’s attended the university. Even if she does see him again, she can just pretend she was too drunk that night to really remember anything, and maybe he’ll be kind enough to play along with it. After all, he was considerate enough to decline her offer to sleep with her, although she doesn’t know if she should be grateful or slightly offended since she looked great last night. But he was very sweet last night and he was very good-looking and Petra thinks that it wouldn’t be too terrible if she saw him again. Maybe she should give him a call to apologize at least. 

“Where’s my phone?” Petra asks suddenly. 

“Oh, I’ll get it,” Hanji says, jumping up from their seat. They walk over to the counter and pull out Petra’s phone from the fruit basket, buried under some bananas and oranges. They plop the phone into Petra’s hand and shrug at their roommate’s puzzled expression. “You kept calling his number and we had to take your phone away from you.” 

“I kept calling him?” Petra repeats. She doesn’t remember that at all. With a frown, she unlocks her phone and scrolls through her call history to find over a dozen calls to the same number - EMT. “How many times did I call him?” 

“Too many,” Rico replies. 

Petra doesn’t remember any conversation with the EMT after he gave her his number. She looks suspiciously at the number, thinking that it looks awfully familiar. “This isn’t his number, is it?” she says, somehow already knowing the answer. 

“It’s the school’s Emergency Medical Service,” Hanji snickers. Halloween is over, but they look incredibly wicked with that grin on their face. “You kept telling them that some guy named Levi broke your heart and they said they didn’t provide any medical services for heartbreak.” 

Ugh. That name does sound familiar. As does that conversation. And the EMS. She had really thought that it was a costume, but suddenly all his “props” and the EMT cart and all of his EMT friends made sense. She really was an idiot last night. Petra lays her head on the table again and wonders if the school EMS does euthanasia procedures. She wouldn’t mind dying right now. 

“I was so annoying that he gave me their number instead,” Petra sniffles. 

“Do you want ice cream?” Hanji asks sympathetically. 

Ice cream does sound good right now, but Petra’s not sure if she should eat that. Even if she could keep it down, she doesn’t deserve it. Ice cream isn’t for hungover people that made fools out of themselves in front of handsome strangers. 

“I’m not sure that he thought you were entirely annoying. If that were true, he wouldn’t have talked to you for so long. Or given you the number to EMS in case you needed help. Or lent you his jacket,” Rico points out. 

Petra perks up at the last one. “I have his jacket?” 

“Yeah,” Hanji nods. “You said you would use it to find him. Like Prince Charming and Cinderella’s shoe.” 

That … absolutely sounds like something a drunk Petra would say. 

“Okay, well, I don’t have his number so it’s not like I can find him,” Petra sighs. She sits up. “But maybe I can ask EMS …?” 

Rico shakes her head. “You tried that at least half a dozen times. They said they don’t give out private information. You even cried because you told us they wouldn’t even confirm if Levi was actually a part of their service.” 

She doesn’t blame them. She probably wouldn’t give drunk Petra her number either. “Then how am I going to find him?” Petra whines. 

“Ask Hanji.” 

Petra whips her head around, forgetting about her hangover for a second until she’s hit with another migraine. She tries to glare at Hanji, but she has to wince through the pain so it probably just looks like a very unflattering squint. “You know him?” 

“Yup,” Hanji hums, but they don’t offer Petra his number. 

“You’re not giving me his number, are you?” 

Hanji grins. “Nope,” they say, popping the “p.” Their grin grows wider. “You gotta earn that shit, Pet. If you want your Prince Charming, you’ll have to do it on your own.” 

Petra pouts, but Hanji doesn’t budge. She turns to Rico instead, putting on her biggest puppy eyes. “Ricooo~” she whines, but Rico only shakes her head. 

“No, you’re not dragging me into this. It was bad enough just having to deal with you last night. You know I brushed your teeth last night?” Rico asks. “It’s a lot more difficult than brushing your own teeth, especially when the other person is trying to bite you.” 

“And I am very grateful,” Petra says, leaning across the table so that Rico can get the full effect of her puppy eyes. Unfortunately, Rico is now an ExpertTM at dealing with Petra and looks away, getting up to disappear into her room. Petra stumbles after her, almost tripping over her blankets. 

“You’re on your own,” Rico says, shutting the door in Petra’s face without even looking behind her. Petra doesn’t know when Rico became so heartless. 

“I can’t believe you guys are just leaving me to find the EMT guy on my own with only my drunken memories and hangover migraine to help me,” Petra wails. She leans against the door to Rico’s room and slides down against it like a tragic heroine in a Victorian novel. 

“Rico has her own love life to attend to, so don’t be too hard on her,” Hanji says from the table. They get up to place their plate in the sink, rinsing the crumbs off with water. “She’s going on a date with Batman.” 

“Oh, Batman?” Petra says with a wistful sigh, a little envious that Rico can snag a date with her own handsome stranger. Then again, he probably isn’t that much of a stranger if Rico can get a hold of him. Petra can’t even contact her stranger. 

Rico’s door opens and Petra falls on her back. She looks up and sees her roommate dressed out of her pajamas and into a plaid dress thrown over a cream-colored blouse and black tights - very appropriate for the autumnal weather. 

“You dressed really quickly,” Petra says, sitting up as Rico steps around her. “Batman must be just as handsome with his mask off as he is with his mask on.”

Rico only rolls her eyes. “He has a name, you know.” 

“Bruce Wayne?” Hanji asks. 

“Cheekbones?” Petra suggests cheekily. 

“You guys are so …” Rico’s voice trails off without filling in the blank, her roommates giggling childishly. She slips on her flats and fixes her purse strap over her shoulder. She pauses to take a look at Petra, who’s still sitting on the floor sulking. She reaches for the door, thinks for a moment, and then says with a sigh, “There’s an event EMS is holding next week. They’re offering a CPR class. Your Prince Charming might be there.” 

“Really?” Petra asks, sitting up straighter. She frowns. “This isn’t a true love thing. I just want to return his jacket. And, like, maybe apologize for being a creep.” 

“Right,” Rico says, unconvinced. “I’ll text you the details in a little bit.” 

“How did you even find out about that anyway?” Petra asks curiously. 

“I literally just looked at the EMS website. It took me five seconds,” Rico snorts. They’re all roommates, but Rico is the only one with any brain cells. Petra isn’t sure what they’d do without her. Rico pulls the door open and gives her roommates a wave. “I’ll see you guys later. Don’t let Petra do anything stupid. I think she might still be a little …” She makes a loopy motion with her hand. 

“Bye~! Have fun on your date,” Hanji sings as Rico shuts the door behind her. They toss a grin over at Petra who’s still sitting on the floor. “Aren’t you lucky? You might be able to get your EMT to give you mouth-to-mouth.” 

“Shut up,” Petra mumbles, but the thought of the EMT’s lips pressed against hers does make her heart flutter. He looked like he had nice lips. Pretty and pink. Good for kissing. 

She flops back on the floor and pulls her blankets over her head. She can’t deal with anymore teasing. She’s been humiliated enough and she’s only been awake for half an hour. Petra sleeps there until Rico comes home and drags her to her bed. 

----------

The EMS class began at 5 PM. Petra knew that - had written it in her calendar and set about five alarms on her phone in case she forgot - and yet she still finds herself frantically running around the STEM building an hour after the class began because she doesn’t know where any of the rooms are except for the chemistry labs. The fact that she took far too long getting ready even though all she was doing was dropping off a jacket is probably also a major factor of her tardiness. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have the talent of getting ready in under five minutes like Rico does. 

“All of these rooms look the same,” Petra mutters as she wanders around the basement of the STEM building. They’re all cold-looking with speckled tiles and off-white walls. Some of these rooms still even have chalkboards, which Petra finds ridiculous because the law building transferred to smart boards by the time she was a freshman. The school really needs to funnel more of their funds into the STEM department, she thinks with a frown. 

She notices a classroom that people are slowly filtering out of. A few people wear the same EMT getup that she remembers seeing a few nights ago. Before they can disappear down the hall, Petra begins running down the hall, her heels clicking against the tiles. 

“Hey, excuse me!” she says, waving her hand to flag them down. “I need to talk to you guys!” 

The group of EMTs turns around, some confused and others surprised. She doesn’t really recognize any of them, but it’s not like she remembers too much about that night. The details are all fuzzy. 

“Hey, do you guys know someone named Levi?” Petra pants when she finally stops in front of them. She puts a hand against her chest and can feel her heart thudding against her rib cage. 

“Do you know him?” asks one of them, a tall blond with his hair tied up messily in a bun. Something about him is familiar, but Petra can’t say for sure. 

“I think I remember her,” someone murmurs behind him. 

Petra glances at the other EMT - someone with his brown hair cut short and his bangs neatly trimmed. She can’t remember him either. “I borrowed his jacket the other night. I came to return it to him,” she explains. 

“Ah!” says another man, one with sandy hair in curls. He points at Petra, probably not realizing how rude it is even when Petra wrinkles her nose at him. “That’s the girl from Halloween. She was a nurse last time.” He pauses. “You look really different.” 

“Yeah, believe it or not, I don’t usually dress like that,” Petra replies. She clears her throat and tosses her head. “So can you tell me where he is? I kind of want to give his jacket back to him today.” 

The EMTs all glance at each other before looking back at Petra. The first one that spoke raises his eyebrow at Petra. “Is that … all you’re going to do?” he asks. 

“Yeah, what else would I …?” Even if she can’t remember them, it comes to her realization that they do remember her as well as what she said last night. She really didn’t think she was stupid enough to proposition a stranger in front of a bunch of other people, but it seems that drunk Petra will continuously find new ways to embarrass her. Her cheeks flush as she tries to form coherent words. “I … am … I’m only interested in returning this. I promise.” 

They study her for a minute and, after deciding she’s harmless, visibly relax. Their reaction is a bit insulting. She doesn’t look that threatening, does she? Then again, maybe she should appreciate the fact that they care enough about their friend to protect him from harassment. 

“He’s in the room still,” the brunet answers, gesturing towards the room they had just left. “He’s packing up.” 

“Thanks,” Petra says. She’s about to take off but hangs back for a minute. “And sorry if I was, you know, weird the other night. I had a little bit too much to drink.” 

The tall blond nods understandingly. “So did a lot of people. After you showed up, we had to attend a call at a nearby party because way too many people got alcohol poisoning.” He shrugs. “Some people just don’t know their limit.” 

Petra nods in agreement even though she’s 95 percent certain that she was at that same party the other night. But they don’t have to know that. “Thanks again,” she says, waving awkwardly at them before disappearing into the classroom to find Levi. 

There aren’t very many people in the room aside from a few stragglers, the instructor, and a lone EMT who’s kneeling on the ground and packing up his things. He’s incredibly meticulous about packing, Petra notices. He makes sure his instruments are the right way, taking the time to inspect every tool before placing it back in his kit. When Petra approaches, he doesn’t look up even when she stands right in front of him. This situation seems awfully familiar. 

“I’ll be leaving now, Levi,” the instructor calls as they usher the other students out of the room. “I’ll see you next week, yeah?” 

“See you,” Levi grunts, still packing things back in his kit. He doesn’t pay any mind to Petra. 

Petra waits a minute, thinking that it might be because he’s one of those people that likes to finish what they’re doing before they move onto another task. It only takes five seconds before she begins to lose patience. It doesn’t matter if he’s trying not to get distracted, she thinks. Ignoring people is rude. He should at least acknowledge her. 

She stomps her foot, hoping that will be enough to get him to look up, but he doesn’t. Frustrated, she lets out a whine but that doesn’t prompt the EMT to pay her any mind either. Finally, she kneels down across from him and puts a hand on top of his kit so that he can’t ignore her even if he wanted to. 

He looks up, his eyes the same cool blue they were the other night. They’re impossibly pretty. It should be a crime to have eyes that shade of blue, Petra thinks. 

“Hi,” she manages to stammer. It isn’t the introduction she was hoping for. Or re-introduction, really. Not that a re-introduction would help after the first impression she gave him on Halloween. 

“Hi,” he replies. He removes her hand from his kit and continues to pack. Petra shouldn’t find his standoffishness so attractive, but she does, frustratingly enough. She thinks he’s going to continue ignoring her but he suddenly says, “Class is over. You’re late.” 

“I’m not here for the class,” she begins. 

“Oh, right.” His eyes flicker upward as he shuts the kit closed. “Because you’re a nurse. You probably already know CPR.” 

“It was just a costume,” Petra mumbles, feeling her cheek heat up again. She’s beginning to think that meeting up with him again was a mistake. Clearly, he just thinks she’s an idiot. He’s probably not wrong though. “I’m pre-law.” 

“Makes sense,” he says with a nod. He picks up his kit and stands up, brushing off his pants. To Petra’s surprise, he offers her a hand. His hand is just as nice and gentle as she remembers; calloused palms but a sweet touch. “You made a very compelling argument about how you were a nurse.” 

“Okay, you don’t have to keep reminding me. I’m embarrassed enough as it is,” she says. Her head hangs, eyes looking at the tip of her heels. She doesn’t think she can look him in the eye right now. Or maybe even ever. “I’m sorry if I was acting creepy the other night. I was just … super drunk.” 

He shrugs and turns towards the door. He doesn’t exactly make a gesture for Petra to follow him, but she can’t exactly stay here so she trails after him. She also notices that his shoulders are very broad. Were student EMTs always this attractive? She never hung out in the STEM building enough to notice. 

“It’s fine,” he tells her. “At least you didn’t throw up on me.” 

Even if it’s true, Petra isn’t sure this is a good thing. Did his job require him to encounter a lot of drunk people? “Do lots of people throw up on you?” she asks curiously. 

“You’d be surprised how many,” Levi replies. He stops so suddenly that Petra almost crashes into his broad and manly back. She kind of wishes she had. He turns around, head tilted. “If you didn’t come for CPR lessons, why did you come?” 

“Oh!” She had almost forgotten. Petra reaches into her bag and pulls out his windbreaker. She kind of regrets just shoving it into her bag and getting it all wrinkled. Maybe she should have ironed it and brought it on a coat hanger as if she had just brought it from the dry cleaners. Do people dry clean windbreakers? Or even iron them? Petra frowns as she offers the jacket to Levi. “I came to bring this back. Thanks for letting me borrow it the other night. Even though I was kind of being a weird creep.” 

“Oh.” Levi takes the windbreaker. “Thanks.” 

“I washed it,” Petra tells him. She doesn’t know why she needs to tell him this. It’s a given that she would wash someone’s clothes before returning them, but she doesn’t want Levi to think she isn’t. She just needs to make sure so that he doesn’t get the wrong idea about her again. 

He blinks at her but doesn’t say anything. After a moment, he says, “Is that it?” 

Is there supposed to be more? Petra isn’t sure what else there’s supposed to be. She thought he would have wanted her to leave as soon as possible. The possibility that Levi isn’t merely just tolerating her - that he might actually find her cute - isn’t something that she’s anticipated. 

“Do you want there to be more?” Petra asks, narrowing her eyes at him.  

Levi doesn’t blush. It figures that he’s the type not to blush. He has to be so goddamn cool all the way until the end. He does, however, avoid making eye contact Petra, which she finds incredibly suspicious. Suspicious and very cute. 

“Maybe … you thought I was cute that night and you wanted to see me again?” Petra asks, a sly grin growing on her face. She points a finger at him, poking him in the chest. “And you were hoping I’d return your jacket so you could talk to me again?” 

He doesn’t confirm or deny any of her statements. He just reaches back to scratch his neck, probably unintentionally flexing his bicep in front of her but Petra is definitely Looking and he is definitely a lot buffer than any EMT needs to be. He could probably throw her over his shoulder easily and carry her like a potato sack. 

“Aw, are you upset that I missed the CPR class?” she teases. She pokes him in the arm and, yes, his bicep is very firm and toned and muscular. “Maybe you were hoping to teach me how to do mouth-to-mouth?” 

Levi sighs tiredly before walking away, but Petra eagerly follows behind him. “You know that’s not what we teach in CPR classes, right? It’s only really necessary to learn how to administer chest compressions unless you’re an EMT yourself.” 

“Oh,” Petra frowns. She was starting to think she was getting the upper hand in this conversation, but she’s sorely lacking in knowledge on lifesaving techniques. This is what she gets for missing the CPR class. 

“I, however,” Levi says, turning around to face Petra, “am certified to give mouth-to-mouth.” He takes a step towards her and Petra finds herself standing very, very close to the hot EMT guy. 

Levi was gorgeous when Petra was drunk out of her mind and he’s gorgeous now standing inches in front of her and completely sober. He might be even more gorgeous now that she’s sober and able to take in every detail about him. Like how dark his lashes look against the pretty blue of his eyes. Or the way the look in his eyes grows slightly darker when he approaches her. Or the way he parts his lips - slightly chapped but an intriguing shade of pink - just the tiniest bit. He’s the perfect height for kissing, Petra thinks. She could easily take a step and press her lips against his without having to stand on her tiptoes. The thought of it causes an awkward thud in her chest. 

“I think my heart just stopped,” she blurts. 

Levi raises his eyebrow. “You’re going to have to see an actual doctor for that then,” he tells her, but he continues to stand insufferably close to her with no indication that he’s going to move anytime soon. Maybe he just likes to make her heart suffer. 

“Are you going to kiss me?” she asks. Her voice sounds a lot more breathless than she’d like it to be, but between her almost suffering another cardiac arrest under the hands of Levi and the fact that she can’t quite breathe because of the lack of distance between them, she supposes she could sound worse. 

He looks at her, head tilted, and the cockiest grin Petra has ever seen begins to grow on his face. “I should at least buy you dinner first,” he replies. Levi turns and continues down the hall without her. 

The sight of the EMT’s broad back brings Petra a lot less joy than it did ten minutes ago. She stares at him and his wide shoulders wistfully until she realizes what he had just said. That wasn’t actually a rejection, right? 

“Hey, are you buying me dinner?” Petra asks, chasing after him. 

Of course, he doesn’t slow down for him, the bastard. He grins when she catches up to him, giving her a cheeky side glance. “Do you like Korean food? There’s a place nearby. They have good hangover soup.” 

“I haven’t even drank anything since last week!” she protests. She pouts, her cheeks puffing up like a chipmunk’s. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?” 

His grin grows wider. “No.” 

Seeing his smile makes Petra’s heart do that weird thing where it skips a beat again, or maybe it just stopped entirely. It’s a strange feeling that doesn’t exactly hurt, but it’s certainly new. Maybe she’ll get used to it. It’s probably not serious anyway. And, well, even if it is, she’s sure Levi can help. 

[believe-that-you-can-my-friend]

Elisabeth & Noah in the origin world (2/?)

First date

He is not sure if he should text her or not.

On Monday, upon waking up with every ounce of alcohol finally off his bloodstream and after he has spent the entire Sunday recovering from the worst hangover he’s experienced since his college years, Noah is back on his reserved nature, the timid one, the one lacking the amount of whiskey-infused courage it takes for him to deal with matters revolving around human interaction, especially with women. He’s not a social outcast per se, but his confidence mostly accompanies him in the career-oriented side of his life.

It’s not like he’s not interested. He crossed the line of “interested” when he stooped to the lowest level possible, looking her up on Instagram, of all things, via Agnes’ account.

(His little sister has a long list of questions and he has a long list of brotherly favors that he promised to fulfill in exchange for her seven-digit password.)

She doesn’t have a vast presence on social media, a quality they apparently share. He keeps a long forgotten Facebook account and a professional LinkedIn one and acts blissfully ignorant towards any other platform that isn’t YouTube. Her Facebook account - oh yeah, he checked that one too - is a mix between personal and business, opinion posts about socio-politcal matters on the grounds of their country to the entirety of Europe to the endlessness of the globe and take-action events in regard to the causes she supports, occasionally interrupted by a reunion selfie with an old friend or a brunch date with her mom and her sister. That particular post redirected to some Instagram link, so, unwittingly, his curiosity was peaked.

Her Instagram account is colourful, vivid, filled with adventures and laughter. Just from an idle scroll, Elisabeth Doppler - Winden born, age twenty-four, Energy Engineer, Berlin based - can easily be perceived as someone that quite enjoys life. Her group of associates and friends seems endless and her gallery consists of photos of dinners with young professionals, pub-crawling with girlfriends, road tripping across Europe, Erasmus Programme memories, tree-planting projects, women’s rights marches, snorkelling, paragliding. Noah spends the whole Sunday afternoon feeling overwhelmed and in awe, tapping picture after picture, mesmerized by her lovely smile that adds a softer undertone to her busy bee of a life.

He finds it fascinating, her mindset and her lifestyle, but, at the same time, he fears that their personalities may clash, his more keeping-to-himself attitude the polar opposite to her seemingly outgoing one. Then, it’s also the age barrier. He thinks that thirty-two might be a little off-putting for someone in their early twenties, a decade that comes with a whole other set of expectations and milestones than the one he is currently in. The major problem, though - a chronic problem of his - is that he’s thinking too much.

Fortunately, that’s not a thing they have in common.

Elisabeth texts him on Monday morning, at 9.54 to be exact. He’s in the middle of a lecture, teaching History of Religion 101 to an auditorium filled with sleepy freshmen, when his phone screen lights up, its glow illuminating in the dimly lit room. It’s a simple “good morning” paired up with a smiling face emoji but it’s enough to cause his heart to race and his mind to short-circuit, leaving him reciting things off the projection screen without really registering what comes out of his mouth until the lesson is over. With sweaty hands and in the mist of internal panic laced with excitement, he texts her back at 10.38 an equally casual “hey, hope you’re having a good morning, too”. He beats himself up for not asking her anything the minute he presses send, like, how she’s doing, if she’s at work - literally anything, Noah, Jesus Christ, now she’ll think that you don’t care, nice work, you idiot - especially as the hours pass and there’s silence from her end. He spends the rest of the day drowning in miserable self-pity, checking his dead phone literally every minute, until there’s a new message from her, telling him that she had a very busy day at work and asking him how his day was.

(Thank God, because he was about to send her an embarrassing word vomit apologizing for having zero social skills whatsoever.)

They continue their back and forth texting for the rest of the week, casual conversations about their everyday lives turning into debates about the best places to eat and the best movies of all time to metaphysics and social justice that keep them up till the small hours of morning, Elisabeth sending him blowing-a-kiss face emoji’s for goodnight and Noah smiling like a silly teenager at his phone screen. Right in the middle of one of their more “serious” conversations, Elisabeth venting about income-based discrimination, Noah asks her out. It’s abrupt and totally irrelevant to the context of the rest of the bubbles that litter their personal chat at that moment but he can’t really help himself. She is a woman he wants - needs - to know more about, not through a screen, but in person, sit there and watch her express all the things she has in her brilliant mind.

They arrange to meet on Friday night, after she finishes work, since Noah has to attend a seminar in Dresden on the weekend and since both of them are too impatient to wait any longer. Noah arrives first at the bar she gave him directions to and decides on waiting for her outside but decides against smoking a cigarette, even though he’s itching to, out of habit and nerves. She rounds the corner barely five minutes later, strutting towards him in an electric blue pantsuit and a plaid maxi grey coat, her whole face brightening with a stunning smile when she notices him, and, just like that, everything else fades, his anxiety about their first official date, his mental fatigue after holding office hours, his insecurities, his worries and she is the only thing that exists, the only thing that matters.

A wave of panic washes over him momentarily, his inner perfectionist making a huge deal out of not having a clear plan of how to greet her. A handshake is too impersonal, a kiss too presumptuous. Ultimately, he attempts an awkward, one-arm kinda hug - which is ridiculous because a) he’s a freaking grown-up and b) her tongue has already been inside his mouth and he doesn’t recall his hands being particularly respectful the night of Jonas’ wedding, when she pushed him against a wall and stole his breath with a glorious kiss - an action she probably misconstrues as a leaning in and this results in them doing a clumsy dance right there on the pavement, but she giggles and her eyes shine with amusement, so his self-deprecating frown gives its place to a handsome smirk, when she moves closer to him and leaves a soft peck on his cheek, as a belated greeting. She smells of sensuous jasmine and intoxicating amber, her perfume aery but with a spicy twist that succeeds in stimulating all of his senses. He holds the door for her to enter and his hand lingers lightly on the small of her waist, as they make their way through the tables to the bar.

They settle on two empty barstools and order their signature drinks, Gin and Tonic and Whiskey on the Rocks. Elisabeth takes her phone out of her tote bag but before she gets to type anything, Noah holds her attention. He thinks for a moment and then makes his hands move, forming tentative gestures that lack any grace or flow but succeed in signing “It’s nice to see you. How have you been?”.

Elisabeth beams, impressed, her lips mouthing an excited “how?”. He just shrugs and shyly pulls out of his messenger bag a thick sign language book, a recent purchase of his which he’s been studying with every chance he got. Her whole face softens, touched by his sweet gesture, before she types on her phone.

That’s very thoughtful of you, thank you. Even though you shouldn’t have; apart from technology’s assistance, I’m pretty good at reading lips.

He uses his phone to reply. Yeah, I gathered that much. I just want to talk to you in your language.

The look that she gives him under her fluttering eyelashes is so tender and lovely that he can’t help but stare, a foolish grin plastered on his lips and a hot blush painted on his neck, creeping from the collar of his grey shirt.

They talk - type, to be exact, with the occasional mimic of a word or two - about everything and nothing, fast thumbs trying to keep up with their effortless conversation on the notifications’ section of their phones. He learns about her childhood in Winden, her hellish pranks to her older sister Franziska, her loving parents that separated when she was a preteen but never stopped caring about each other or being there for their daughters. She talks about her hometown friends and her honor roll high school experience, moving to Berlin to attend university and falling in love with the lively vibe of the city, getting her Master’s in Energy Engineering and recently landing her first job on the field at the Tiedemann Enterprises, a very prestige corporation in the industry of renewable energy. She’s still particularly excited about this, being part of a team of researchers thriving to improve energy efficiency based on an environmental friendly strategy.

Noah tells her about his memories as a young boy in Vechta, how he lost his mother when he was only six, due to complications while giving birth to his sister, how his father was never really in the picture after that tragic incident. How the local church and especially Sic Mundus, a church based organization for neglected children and troubled teens, contributed to his and Agnes’ well-being and education, helping him land a university scholarship and get a job, so he could afford moving his sister to Berlin, too, after he got his bachelor degree, and offering her a more stable living situation and a normal life. How, apparently, his aptitude for the humanities and his upbringing in a religious environment drove him to follow an academic career in religious studies, a field that he finds beyond interesting, especially its anthropology aspect.

Somewhere along the conversation, too absorbed into their own little world to register the fewer people in the bar and the clock ticking towards closing time, his hand, as if it has a mind of its own, slides slowly over the wooden top of the bar, her slender fingers meeting his hesitant approach halfway. They’re barely touching but it’s electrifying, the feeling of even an inch of his skin against her skin so exhilarating and powerful, like the impact of meteors colliding or the universe exploding into pieces. It feels like a Déjà vu, like a glitch in the Matrix, like they know each other from the past or recognize each other from their future. It’s a feeling both of them kept seeking, a feeling that they silently vow never to lose.

Noah pays for the drinks, despite her objections, and Elisabeth insists that, next time, the bill is on her. He smirks, a tad tipsy on the whiskey, a lot tipsy on her, and teases her that he must have done something right, because this is the first time a girl agrees on a second date with him this fast. She just shrugs, a cheeky smirk playing on her lip-glossed lips, as she types, if I left it up to you, we’d still be on the PG-13 “good morning” texts. He laughs, an effortless, loud laugh and he catches her staring - no, not staring, checking him out - the corner of her longing smile trapped between her teeth. He fights the insane urge to kiss her senseless right here in this empty bar with the bartender mentally plotting their death for keeping him past his shift.

He accompanies her to the U-Bahn station and his heart skips a heartbeat at the prospect of sharing ten more minutes with her, according to the information display over their heads. She wishes him to have fun in Dresden and he confesses that he wishes he could stay here, to spend the weekend with you, he wants to add but refrains, in fear of confessing too much too fast. Instead, he tells her that he had an amazing night and he’s so relieved and purely happy when she nods vigorously in agreement, her low ponytail bobbing lightly and her beautiful face radiating even under the harsh fluorescent light of the station. The atmosphere around them is suddenly very charged, their bodies gravitating towards each other, and their eyes engage in a stare off that speaks volumes and holds so much unresolved tension. He can hear the bright yellow train approaching and his breath quickens as he takes a brave step forward, invades her personal space, and his eyes declare defeat, falling to her lips. He’s the one to kiss her this time, a soft peck that turns into a needy battle of dominance when she melts into his arms and angles her face to kiss him more, deeper, hungry mouths dancing together in passion, his shoulders hunching over her smaller figure, his hands cradling her cheeks. Her own hands sneak under his coat and suit jacket, delivering a heavy caress over the material of his shirt before she closes her arms around his waist, Noah letting a trembling exhale into the kiss and his lips forming a lazy smirk against her giggling ones. Smugly, Elisabeth tugs lightly at his lower lip with her teeth, a naughty essence to the playful action, and this fuels another round of heated kissing, their bodies pushing and pulling, their heavy PDA a thing they’ll be embarrassed for in the morning. For tonight, though, they’re just two people getting drunk on each other in the middle of a train station, as if tomorrow will be the end of world and they’ll cease to exist.

When they pull back for air her lips are lipgloss-free and her eyelids, still closed, are fluttering over scarlet cheekbones. Noah has never witnessed a most beautiful sight in his life.

Elisabeth gets on the train with a dazed and dazzling smile, promising to text him when she arrives at her apartment. They refuse to let go of each other’s eyes until the train vanishes into the dark tunnel and Noah is left there, on the empty station, a finger reaching to his lips, not quite believing that the fruity taste of lipgloss that still lingers in his mouth or the woman whose lips left their trace behind are real and not a product of his wildest fantasies. There’s an extra hop in his steps as he walks up the stairs to catch the train to the opposite direction, boarding the vehicle at the last minute and sliding quickly on a seat, lovesick smile intact and a newfound feeling of contentment and thrill nested in his chest.

He takes his phone out of his pocket and types, unable to wait any longer.

I get back early on Sunday. Would you like to have dinner with me?

[cherryblossomflowers]

DDD Week #8

Pairing: Jensen x Daughter!Reader, Jared x Niece!Reader

Summary: YN is off to college, but Jensen isn't ready to let his little girl go so he drags Jared with him to YN's university to check it out.

Warnings: Angst, Cursing, Yelling/Fighting

A/N: Week #8 of DDD is here! Make sure to check out @mlovesstories​ Week #8 and their masterlist! Feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!

Jensen: 42 Jared: 38 YN: 18

***ASK OPEN***

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Dynamic Duo Drabbles Masterlist

"'Why don't you trust me,' she typed to both of the boys."

With freedom in her sights, YN pulls into a parking spot in front of her dorms. She steps out of her Jeep and stares up at the four-story building in front of her.

A boy in a bright yellow T-shirt and clipboard in hand ran up towards YN, "Hi, I'm Trey. And I'm helping freshmen with their move-ins. Can I have your name?"

"Oh, uh, I'm YN Ackles."

Trey gave her a shocked look, "So it's true. We have a celebrity at our school."

YN immediately shook her head, "No, no. Just a regular girl who's parents happen to be celebrities that wants to get her degree and have her own life."

Trey nodded, "Yes ma'am! So you'll be on the 3rd floor, room 302," he paused reading his clipboard, "Oh, and your roommate is already checked in so she should be up there."

YN nodded, "Thanks, uh, is there any way you could help me with the mini fridge?"

Trey smiled, "Sure thing."

Across campus, Jensen and Jared sat in the bed of Jensen's truck looking at YN's Jeep in the parking lot.

"Jay, this isn't a good idea," Jared said.

Jensen sighed, "She's my babygirl. I need to make sure she's safe."

"Spying on her isn't the best way to do it though."

"What else am I supposed to do? Blow up her phone with calls and texts, asking her-"

Just then, Jensen's phone started ringing. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw YN's name flashing across the screen.

He quickly answered, "Hi honey. Did you make it to school all right?"

"Yeah, I just got checked in and one of the RA's are helping me with my fridge."

Jensen paused, "RA? Male or female?"

"Dad, I'm 18. Boys aren't your concern anymore."

"You're right, you're right. I'm sorry. So how' the-"

"Sorry, Dad. I got to go. Trey is helping me with my stuff. Call you tonight!"

"Wait wait, who's Trey-"

YN hung up before Jensen could get another word in. His phone dropped to his lap and he stared off towards YN's Jeep.

"Well," Jared said, "What did she say?"

"We can't leave, Jared. We have to stay here. She's with some boy."

Jared laughed, "Jensen, she's dated guys before. That's not new."

"No he's...he's helping her with her belongings. What if he helps her unpack? What if they..." Jensen shivered at the thought in his head.

Jared sighed, "So what? Are we just going to camp out here all day?" ______________________ YN and her roommate were walking out of their building and towards the university square where there was a karaoke show happening. YN had quickly become friends with her roommate and was getting more comfortable with the college life.

There were many people that recognized her because of her father, but she shrugged it off and explained to them that is not who she is here.

She was simply YN Ackles, an English and Psychology double major from Austin, Texas.

YN and her roommate found a spot near the stage so they could watch the show. Several people came up to YN, introducing themselves and asking to sit near her.

Back across campus, Jensen is still sitting at the bed of his truck but this time he had a pair of binoculars and is watching YN from afar.

Jared is in the passenger seat of the truck, wishing he was home instead of here.

"Hey, Jared. There's like a ton of kids grouping around her," Jensen yelled behind him.

"Mhmm," Jared responds.

"And it looks like...it's older boys! Why are older boys around her?!"

"Who knows."

"Jared, are you evening listening?"

Jared stuck his head out of the truck, "To be honest, no. I stopped listening about 4 hours ago when you kept freaking out that YN hadn't come out of her room."

Jensen sighed, "I just want-"

"To make sure she's safe. I know, Jay."

Jensen grumbled and went back to spying on his daughter. Jared rolled his eyes and new he was going to regret leaving the truck.

Jared got out of the truck and walked towards Jensen, "She is safe though, Jensen. Look at her, she's having fun. She's meeting new people. She's-"

"She's getting on stage!" Jensen yelled as he stood from the bed of the truck.

YN was in fact walking on the stage after everyone was cheering her name, begging her to sing. She laughed and tried to talk her way out of it, but it was no use.

She walked on the stage and stood in front of the microphone, "Hey, uh, hey everyone. Um, so I guess I'll be singing...something."

YN walked over to the DJ and gave him a song to play then she walked back in front of the microphone.

Jensen grabbed Jared's shoulders, "What if she starts singing and they throw things at her?!"

"Jensen, you and I both know that won't happen. YN has a beautiful singing voice."

"But what if she messes up the words?" Jensen continued panicking.

"It's karaoke. That happens."

"But what if...what if..."

"Jay, you have got to calm down. YN is fine. She's having a good time. Just leave her be. Let's go back to Austin and let her live her life," Jared stated calmly.

Jensen sighed, "Maybe you're right. Maybe I'm overreacting."

Jared looked past Jensen to the stage, "Isn't that the guy that helped her move in today?"

"What?!" Jensen spun around.

They were right. Trey joined YN on stage for a duet of Shallow. The music began to play, the guitar begin strummed made YN sway in front of the microphone.

Trey walked up to the microphone, closed his eyes, and sang his part, "Tell me somethin', girl. Are you happy in his modern world? Or do you need more? Is there somethin' else you're searchin' for? I'm falling. In all the good times I find myself Longin' for change. And in the bad times I fear myself..."

Trey smiled at YN after singing his part. She blushed at him and smiled back.

While Trey was singing, Jensen devised a plan, "Okay, we're going down there. And we're just going to listen. But if something happens, we're getting her out of there."

"Jay, this isn't a good idea. You really aren't thinking-"

"Oh, she's about to sing. Let's go!"

Jensen hauled ass and ran towards the stage. Jared rolled his eyes and ran after him. He quickly caught up to Jensen, but not by running past him.

Jared tripped over his own feet. He fell and ended up rolling down the hill towards the stage. Jensen turned and saw Jared rolling behind him. He tried to dodge, but Jared ran into him, causing him to fall as well.

Meanwhile, YN was singing her part on stage, "Tell me something, boy. Aren't you tired tryin' to fill that void? Or do you need more? Ain't it hard keeping it so hardcore? I'm falling..." but she got interrupted by Jensen and Jared.

The two men fell on the stage right behind her. YN and Trey turned around and saw Jensen on top of Jared holding his head.

Jensen looked up to YN and chuckled nervously, "Hey, sweetheart. We, uh, we just wanted to check in. See how college was going."

Trey then yelled out, "Holy shit, it's Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki!"

The crowd started screaming and fangirling at the two celebrities. They crowded around the stage, jumping around in excitement.

Jensen and Jared finally got to their feet and walked up behind YN. Jensen laid a hand on her shoulder, but YN quickly shoved it off.

"What the hell are you two doing?" YN yelled.

Jared turned to Jensen, "Before we explain, just know your father dragged me into this."

Jensen glared at Jared, "Thanks, man," he turned back to YN, "Honey, I'm sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were safe."

"Safe? Dad, have you been here all day?"

Jensen looked at his feet, "Not all day. More like 5 minutes after you got here this afternoon."

"What? Have you lost your minds? Do you seriously not trust me enough to be on my own that you'd just crash in here?" YN screamed.

"No, no. It's not that we don't trust you. We just don't trust..." Jensen pointed at Trey, "That. Boys like him have intentions with girls like you."

YN clenched her teeth, "Girls like what, Dad?"

Jensen gulped, "Just like...girls that are, you know, innocent and such and-"

"And nothing, Dad. I can't believe you two don't trust me! And Trey? He's an RA, all he did was help me move into my room. I asked him to sing with me on stage, big deal. He's a friend."

Jared stepped towards YN, "We're sorry, YN. Truly, we are."

YN shook her head as tears filled her eyes, "No you're not. You embarrassed me. You made me look so stupid. And now nobody will see me as myself. They'll only see me as Jensen's kid or Jared's niece," she turned away from them and mumbled, "I hope you're happy."

Then YN sprinted back to her building and to her dorm. Jared and Jensen stood on the stage and watched her run.

"We messed up," Jensen whispered.

Jared turned and hit the back of his head, "You think?!"

That night, Jared and Jensen sat on Jensen's couch and stared blankly at the wall in front of them. Genevieve and Danneel scolded them when they got back, both women receiving phone calls from YN before the men got home.

Jared sighed, "I'm the worst uncle."

Jensen scoffed at him, "Worst uncle? Try being the worst father."

Then Jensen's and Jared's phones chimed, alerting them of a text. They were both shocked to see YN's name on their screens. They exchanged a worried look before opening the message.

YN sat on her bed, still crying from the events that happened that evening. Her roommate was out of the room, leaving YN alone.

She stared at the ceiling, talking to herself, "Why? Why did that humiliate me like that? What made them think that was okay? Do they...do they not trust me to make the right choices?"

YN pulled out her phone and typed out a text to Jensen and Jared. "Why don't you trust me", she typed to both of the boys.

Jensen and Jared stared at their phones for a moment, reading YN's message over and over again.

"How am I going to fix this, Jared?" Jensen asked his best friend.

Jared shrugged, "To be honest, I don't think you can. This is going to take some time. Just...just leave her alone for a while. Let her call you when she's ready."

Jensen nodded, "You're right."

That night, Jensen and Jared didn't move from the couch. They both felt so bad from their actions. YN cried herself to sleep. She didn't understand why her father and uncle did what they did.

To be honest, Jensen nor YN knew what to do. It's just going to take time to get over this.

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

Masterlist

My Cherry Blossoms

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@wecantgiggleitsafandom

[svtxsoju]

01. crush that hangover! | dear miss soju

ღ Synopsis: College is hard. Love is even harder. Good thing the students of Mansae University can write in to Miss Soju, the campus’ very own romance advice columnist! The only problem is she’s never been in a relationship. Ever. There’s no telling what kind of chaos she may cause in the love lives of several of MU’s most eligible bachelors. Too bad no one knows who she really is!  ღ Characters/Pairings: college AU! Seventeen & OC’s, Pairings TBA! ღ Genre: Romantic Comedy, Slice of Life ღ Warning(s): Mentions of alcohol, underage drinking, mentions of sex, language, bad jokes ღ Word Count: 5.0k words  ღ Binu’s Note: ever stare at a selfie so long that it looks weird? ya that’s this chapter for me. there were just so many elements that i wanted to get right, but i kept changing things and now i can’t look at it anymore :c i’ll properly proofread it later, but for now enjoy!! i have some other content ima post later so i’m p excited for that hehehe anyway ya happy friday!!! 

《 ⊛ Author’s Note & Credits ⊛ Disclaimer ⊛ Masterlist ⊛ 》

《 Previous ⊛ Next 》

Monday, September 2, 2019 9:05AM

This was not how Joohyun had imagined her first day at The Front. Whenever she described this moment to Jihoon, she was very clear about the way she would walk in so confidently that the senior writers would wonder why they forgot to email her an invite to their 8:30 meeting. Jihoon, who relished in raining on her parade, predicted that they wouldn’t even know her name. But she had no time for his blunt realism, because she had been living as a made-up person since June and her corporate daydreams were the only things keeping her sane. She knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but she figured that once they saw her talent, everything would be just fine.

So it’s not difficult to imagine Joohyun’s distress when she just barely stumbled into the office this morning, nursing a mind-melting hangover. 

She should have known she would be a goner when the sports section interns had challenged her to a drinking game at last night’s welcome party. Her drinking partner, a small girl interning at HR, had only made it two shots in before falling asleep on her lap. For the record, she had still made sure that she was the last intern standing (although she definitely wasn’t the same bright-eyed freshman that could chug a pitcher of soju and beer just to spite Jihoon). Looking around the office, she felt a little relieved to find that the other interns were suffering just as much as her, if their slumped positions and pained groans told her anything. So much for giving a good first impression.

Joohyun was trying her best not to look like she was two steps from an early grave when she was approached by a big woman with a laptop in her arms. She awkwardly bowed her head to greet her, but the woman’s gaze never left the screen of her Macbook. “Miss… Joonyoung?”

“Oh, that’s not--” 

“You’re the new advice column intern, correct?” 

“Oh. Yes, that’s me, but that’s not my--” 

“I’ll show you to your desk.” Without so much as a glance, the woman turned on her heel, now typing furiously on her laptop. Joohyun followed behind glumly.

This was all Jihoon’s fault. 

“So, how’s your first day going?” Jihoon asked over his bowl of ramen. He flagged down the tall waiter and ordered a bowl of rice.

“Fine,” was Joohyun’s curt answer. In truth, it was far from ideal. She had watched longingly as all the other interns were assigned with their first projects, while she was left with an empty inbox. How was she supposed to write an advice column when there was no one asking her for advice? She spent most of the morning familiarizing herself with the previous entries of The Front’s dating advice column, the most recent of which dated to the newspaper’s May issue… from 1997. 

When her supervisor told her to take a lunch break, she had made a beeline to meet Jihoon at the restaurant near the cafe he worked at. Now that she was sitting in front of him though, she wasn’t quite ready to confess that her dream job was much more mundane than she expected. “Hey, wasn’t this a fried chicken shop last semester?” 

“That bad, huh?” Jihoon clicked his tongue. Joohyun sighed - she didn’t know why she even tried to hide anything from him when he’s known her for 12 years. He probably knew some parts of her better than she did. “Come on Joo, don’t give up on Miss Soju so easily. It’s just because you’re a little hungover. We watched The Notebook like five times this summer! What more do you need to know about true love? Do you want me to set you up on another date with that freakishly tall dude for more hands-on experience? Ah, speak of the devil!” 

“Thanks, Mingyu.” Joohyun took the bowl of rice and gave the server a sweet smile, which greatly contrasted with the glare she shot at Jihoon soon after. The server, a stunning boy with jet-black hair and tanned skin, stuck his tongue out at Jihoon. She waited until Mingyu went to the other side of the restaurant to serve a rowdy group of boys to whisper-shout at Jihoon. “Can you try not to expose my identity to the whole campus before I even get the chance to write my first ever entry?” 

“Ohhh, that’s why you’re sulking. No one’s sent you a letter yet so you didn’t get to do anything today,” Jihoon said. It sometimes got annoying how he could read her like she was his worn-out copy of his favorite sports manga.  She had to admit though, he did find ways to make it worth it. Like when he said, “I might actually be able to help you with that one, if you want. I can make a little shout out for Miss Soju on my stream tonight. For a small price, of course.” 

“You’re streaming tonight?” The girl perked up from poking at her noodles. Over the past three years, Jihoon had built up a cult following through Woozi’s Universe, a Twitch stream where he shared music made by the underground artists on campus (including him). He only ever released new music on Mondays, so tonight would definitely have a large viewership. Joohyun immediately went into her business pose lest she show how eager she really was. “Well, what would you like in exchange, Mr. Lee?” 

“I merely request that you pay for my lunch today, Ms. So,” he replied. Joohyun looked in horror at Jihoon, a petite man who ate like he was three boys going through puberty; today alone he had had an extra-large bowl of ramen, three orders of rice, and two cans of Coke. 

Then, she imagined facing an empty inbox for the rest of the week. Yup, this was  definitely worth it. That didn’t stop her from making a show of taking out her wallet, taking care to sigh extra  loudly. She had to give Jihoon his moment to revel in his triumphs, otherwise he would get grumpy. 

Jihoon cackled giddily. “Pleasure doing business with you as always, Ms. So.” 

“Pretty sure my hangover is coming back.”

“Oh shit, shut up!” Jihoon suddenly yelped and ducked underneath the table.

“What the hell, Jih--” 

“No, don’t say my name! He might hear you and then I’ll have to talk to him,” Jihoon whispered, jerking his head towards a bright yellow blur skipping to the back of the restaurant. “He’s one of my fans. He found out I worked at the cafe and now he keeps coming in to talk to about how sad his sex life is.”

Joohyun pursed her lips and peeked a glance over. He had joined the table of rowdy boys.  “Hmm, maybe I should say hi... he seems like a potential Miss Soju reader.” 

“Just pay the check already, woman!” 

The new interns at The Front were not the only students sporting hangovers that day. This can only be expected of the second week back at MU. Sunday night had been the explosive finale of a full week of department welcome parties, happy reunions, and lots and lots of alcohol. Some of the incoming freshmen were convinced that Mansae University was not actually a school, but a training ground for surviving as many shots of soju as physically possible. That is until they woke up on Monday morning and still had to drag themselves to their 9AM’s, suddenly faced with the reality of what college really was: an endless cycle of perpetual hangovers and school work that’s due way too soon. 

This was all good news for the new ramen shop on campus, which had been serving the hoards of hungover zombies since 10AM. Vernon, who was in great pain from the night before, had been ambushed by his roommate after his morning class. He was brought to the restaurant under the pretense of curing his woes with a bowl of warm soup and noodles. When he caught sight of a man in red waiting for them at a back table though, he immediately knew what was actually coming. 

“Hello Vernonnie,” Seungcheol greeted him with a sly smile. “Care to take a seat next to me?”

“Uh, not really,” Vernon mumbled, but he sat down anyway. He scrunched his nose at his roommate as the boy slumped into the seat in front of him. “Traitor.”

“Sorry babe, Seungcheol hyung promised me free lunch. Also, you’re one to talk, after you abandoned me to fend for myself last night--! Ugh,” his roommate, Seungkwan, clutched at his head, where a rusty hammer persistently tapped away at his temple. “Hyung, why did you do this to me? My face is gonna be bloated for the rest of the week. I have an audition in two days, you know!” 

“Hey, I did ask you if you were sure you wanted-- what was that you ordered? Oh yeah-- ‘the strongest drink that is legal to serve in South Korea’!” Seungcheol said, his eyes wide. As he got more defensive, he began to point his finger excessively at Seungkwan. “And what was it all for? To impress your new crush?” 

“I am way too hungover to get lectured by a couple of hypocrites,” Seungkwan grumbled. “I was trying to get some inspiration, you know, a drunken spark of genius! How else am I supposed to figure out how to confess to them?”

“Okay, I wasn’t actually asking,” Seungcheol ignored Seungkwan’s offended gasp in favor of turning his attention to a fidgeting Vernon. His cherry red lips now returned to its wide grin. “I am here to discuss where our dearest Vernon went off to last night.” 

“Um.” Vernon answered with a nervous smile. “I just went home early--”

“Bullshit!” Seungkwan looked absolutely scandalized. “It wasn’t enough to abandon me, so now you’re lying too? I don’t know if I can take much more of this!” 

Vernon had only officially known Seungkwan for two whole weeks, but with the way the two had been inseparable since move-in day, everyone at the freshmen dorms had assumed that they had known each other for years and years. He knew that someone like Boo Seungkwan was a rare find as far as random dorm assignments went, and that not everyone was so lucky to have a roommate that reminds them to eat real food once in a while or a friend who’s willing to take care of them when they get their first real hangover. Just for that day alone, Vernon knew that Seungkwan deserved to know where he went. Plus he shared a room with him, so it’s not like he could hide anything anyway.

Seungcheol shook his head and slung an arm around Vernon’s shoulder. His grip wasn’t tight but firm enough that Vernon knew he was trapped there until he confessed the truth. “Look, I don’t need any details! I just wanted to make sure that you’re staying safe and all that junk. Also, I would like to know what base you got to.” He erupted into a fit of giggles, but soon cleared his throat to return to his investigation. “Really though, tell us what happened.” 

It wasn’t like Vernon didn’t want to tell Seungcheol either. Vernon’s and Seungcheol’s families had known each other since the two boys were in middle and high school, and when he found out that Seungcheol would be a senior at Mansae University that year, he felt some of his nerves ease up about moving out. Seungcheol had always been like an older brother to him, and was always there when he needed his help in high school. He trusted him! 

That’s probably why he subconsciously blamed Seungcheol for the pain he was going through at the moment. When the upperclassman had offered to sneak Vernon and Seungkwan into a party at the karaoke bar that he bartended at, the two freshmen all too eagerly accepted without thinking of any consequences. They had received no pointers, no words of caution. How were they supposed to know that bar parties were completely different from welcome dinners? And how was Seungkwan supposed to know that downing so many cocktails within the hour wasn’t a good idea? Most importantly, how was Vernon supposed to know that he would meet someone like her there? Vernon groaned into his hands as he could no longer resist the flood of memories from the night before, and leaned into Seungcheol’s shoulder as he tried to recoil from his past self. “Hyung, it hurts too much to say out loud.”

“It’s okay buddy, take your time,” Seungcheol patted his head gently and called the tall server over. Vernon continued to let out unintelligible noises of regret while the senior ordered bowls for all three of them. “How are you even hungover right now? I only remember giving you one drink last night before you went off with--”

“I’m not hungover.”

“Oh. Then what are you?”

“An idiot,” Vernon mumbled through his fingers. “A big, cringy idiot.” 

Seungkwan raised his hand, looking frantically between the two boys. “Excuse me? Did I miss the reading homework? Went off with who? Last night? What? How drunk was I?!” 

“Very drunk, but that’s not why you didn’t notice Vernon’s new friend. You were a little occupied with your own conquest,” Seungcheol stage-whispered from across the table. “Honestly, you two are wild. It’s only two weeks into fall semester and you’re already out here simping.”

“Um, and? I saw you making googly eyes at several ladies last night!” The higher Seungkwan’s voice rose, the harder the rusty hammer banged inside his head. “Ow.”

“Those were just my friends who happened to be ladies! Sorry that my eyes are just naturally soft and alluring,” Seungcheol said, batting his long, dark lashes at the boy. “What were her eyes like, Vernon? I only noticed that she had a nose ring. Couldn’t really see her properly while you two were ‘talking’ in the corner...” 

“The corner! A nose ring!” Seungkwan repeated and clutched at his chest. “Tell me more.” 

“We were just talking!” Vernon finally spoke, his face stuck in an embarrassed grimace. “There’s not really much more to tell. I just know that she’s the coolest girl I’ve ever met and I’ll never meet anyone like her again.”

“What! You two were talking for like two hours! And I saw you leaving with her!” Seungcheol said a little too loudly for Vernon’s liking. The server gingerly approached their table with their orders, setting the bowls down as quickly as possible before rushing away. Vernon noted to give him a big tip when they left. “Don’t tell us that’s all.”

“I just dropped her off at her apartment and went back to the dorms,” Vernon confirmed to Seungcheol’s horror. “I really didn’t want it to be just last night.”

“So... you asked her out?” 

“No.”

“You got her number?”

“No.”

“Her Instagram? Her Twitter? Her student ID number? Do you even know her name?” 

“I already said I was an idiot,” Vernon whined. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to talk about it. But yes, I did at least get her name.”

It was the only thing he could think of since he woke up. She was the only thing he could think of since he woke up. The way her eyes had lit up while they talked about her major. The way her lips had curved into a clever smile when she told a joke. The way her small hand had fit in his as they walked to her apartment. Then, he would remember how he completely fucked it all up before he started, and his headache would return full-force. 

“Dude.” Seungcheol fixed him with a stern stare, but it was kind of hard to take him seriously when his mouth was full of noodles. “Have you never asked a girl out before?”

“You know I have! I don’t know what happened either, okay? I guess I just froze up when she looked at me… then I just went home after telling her good night.”

Seungcheol feigned a gag. “Gross. I was joking earlier, but you’re an actual simp. Hate to break it to you like this.” 

“I think it’s sweet,” Seungkwan piped up from where he comfortably rested his head on the table.

“That’s nice, Seungkwan, but ‘sweet’ isn’t gonna get either of you laid,” Seungcheol chuckled. “Vernon, your girl was clearly waiting for you to make the next move. Trust me, girls don’t just ask anyone to walk them home.”

“I didn’t want to look like a creep!” Vernon sullenly stared down at his untouched bowl of noodles. “What am I supposed to do now, hyung?”

“Yeah, lend us your wisdom, O Alluring One,” Seungkwan chanted. “You clearly have plenty of experience from the past three years. 

“Like I said, I just have a lot of friends,” Seungcheol shrugged, then suddenly checked the time on his phone. “Oh shit--  speaking of friends, I have to meet one for a study session at her apartment in 15 minutes.”

“Sounds nasty.”

“Your mom’s nasty,” Seungcheol retorted with a provocative smile. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Boo! Then maybe you’d be able to think of how to confess.”

“Uncalled for!”

He placed several bills on the table and checked his phone again. “This should be enough to cover lunch, kiddos. I wish I could help you two, but I’m booked for the rest of the day. And the week.”

“But what if I meet her again?” Vernon asked desperately. 

“Then text me! I might not reply right away though. I’ve got two classes later and then I have dinner plans--”

“Another girl I presume--”

“Shut up! I also have to go to the gym before doing… uh, doing a thing. And then I have a shift at 24H.” Seungcheol stood up and looked at the distressed boys before him, his soft eyes more affectionate than alluring. Was he like this as a freshman? He reached over to ruffle the freshmans' heads. “You two should probably leave soon, too. I’ll see y’all later!” 

And just like that, Seungcheol was gone, and Vernon was once again left without any advice from the senior. Vernon was never one for dramatics, but his personal failures felt like a gray cloud of shame hanging over him. He began to worry that he was just gonna have to live like this forever, because nothing in the world was bright enough to break through his doom and gloom (well, her smile probably could, but Vernon was never going to see that again). The fact that Seungkwan seemed like he was about to Train to Busan his ass any minute now didn’t really lift his spirits either.

Lucky for him, the universe was not going to let him give up so easily. At that moment, a boy with glaringly yellow hair and a heavy camera on his shoulder bursted through the entrance. His smile brightened when he spotted the two boys in the back and he didn’t hesitate to bound towards them, skipping right past the server welcoming him in. “Seungkwan! I knew I’d find you here.”

“Dearest Vernon, it seems we have been joined by the lovely Soonyoung hyung. Perhaps he might know the medicine we require to ease our ailments in love,” Seungkwan suddenly stood up, all signs of his hangover expertly hidden. He smiled directly into the camera lens. “Hyung, would you kindly share your wisdom with us lowly freshmen? Pray tell, how does one woo the object of their affection?”

Vernon, who was well-acquainted with Seungkwan’s antics by then, watched on in silent amusement. If anything could distract him from his internal turmoil for a moment, it was Seungkwan; even if he was just spewing nonsense. What really made him crack up though, was the way Soonyoung (that was his name, right?) was clearly trying very hard to suppress his giggles. “Um,” Soonyoung managed to  cut in breathlessly. “You know I’m not rolling, right? Also, I didn’t understand any of the words that just left your mouth, but it definitely felt like you were putting some sort of ancient curse on me. Hi, I’m Soonyoung by the way!”

Vernon introduced himself and shook Soonyoung’s hand. Seungkwan could only sigh in exasperation at Soonyoung’s lack of culture (not that he was surprised of course). The boy apparently thought it was a good fashion choice to leave his apartment wearing a tiger print button-up. “I was  asking if you could help us out with confessing to our crushes,” Seungkwan said with a roll of his eyes. 

“Ohh, that’s what you said!” Soonyoung laughed until he was keeled over, clutching his stomach. Vernon and Seungkwan could only watch him with great expectation. When the boy finally caught his breath and wiped the sweat from his brow, he gave the boys a very serious look. “Yeah, I haven’t gotten any since January. So you should probably ask someone else.” 

This also did not surprise Seungkwan. 

“Excuse me?” The tall server approached them again, clearly giving them his best ‘I hate working in retail’ smile. “If y’all are done eating, could you please leave? You’re disturbing the other customers.” 

“I’m eating, I’m eating!” Soonyoung smiled until his cheeks reached his eyes, a power move that he saves for occasions where he found himself in trouble, which happened more often than he’d care to admit. Once the server let them be, muttering something about not getting paid enough, Soonyoung turned his killing smile onto the two boys. “Can I have some of this? I can Venmo y’all later, I’m pretty broke right now.” 

Vernon pushed his uneaten ramen towards Soonyoung, who looked at him as if he was the sun itself. The boy carefully set down his film camera and immediately began slurping away. Vernon nodded his head towards the contraption and asked why he was carrying it around.

 “Oh, I rented it before coming to find Seungkwan. I’m thinking about making him the subject of my film project this semester, since the theater program is pretty buzzed that he’s joining this year!” Soonyoung patted the camera affectionately.

“‘Thinking about?’ I thought I was your final choice!” Seungkwan blurted. The ramen he had for lunch seemed to have finally restored some of his strength, because he no longer clutched at his temple when his voice rose.

“I said ‘most likely’ choice! I just want to keep my options open,” Soonyoung responded with great care. He didn’t want to hurt Seungkwan’s feelings, but he was definitely re-evaluating alternate subjects at the moment.  “It’s only the second week!”

“This is why you’re single,” the theater major said in a huff. “Lack of commitment!”

“Hey! I am perfectly capable of commitment. It’s the girls that don’t want to commit, ” Soonyoung said in a small voice, and looked off into the distance wistfully. “I really hope Woozi does put out a new song tonight. Maybe he’ll tweet something soon.” 

“Woozi? Who’s that?” Vernon asked. At this point, he was just looking for anything that would fend off his memories, which lingered at the edges of his mind and waited for moments of silence to bring him another fresh glass of cringe. He was pretty sure that he had experienced well above the recommended daily serving. 

“Oh, he’s a Twitch streamer from MU! I was actually gonna say if you two are really struggling in the love department, you should definitely check out his stream tonight.” Soonyoung nearly wiggled with enthusiasm. “He usually promotes songs from artists around the area, but his self-composed songs are my personal favorites. They’ve been what’s getting me through this dry spell, honestly.”

“Oh, that sounds pretty cool.” It sounded like it was right up Vernon’s alley, actually. 

Soonyoung nodded. “You listen to them and you just feel hopeful to find the kind of love he sings about. I’ll send you the link later!” 

“Underground artists? No thanks, I think I’ll stick to Eva Noblezada,” Seungkwan scoffed. “I don’t really think a stranger can help me with my problems. They don’t even know me.” 

“Oh come on, Kwan. Let’s just give it a shot!”

Even after all his grumbling, Seungkwan still sat beside Vernon at one of the desks in their dorm later that night. They had opened the link Soonyoung had sent them, and munched on some snacks while they waited for the stream to start up. Vernon waited with baited breath for his distraction to begin; he had spent most of the day attempting to wall off any thoughts of her or last night, but it was kind of difficult to think of anything else when all of his professors only droned on and on about quizzes and homework. 

When a boy with fair skin and burgundy hair came into frame, he nearly sighed in relief. The streamer appeared to be sitting in a small, dark office only illuminated by his computer screen and several pink neon signs that hung on the walls. Vernon could recognize the faint outlines of several guitars and a keyboard behind him. The boy clicked around for a while as more people joined the stream before finally waving into the camera. 

“Hi guys, welcome in! Thanks for joining Woozi’s Universe. If you’re new here, I’m Woozi and I like to write songs sometimes. If you’re an old subscriber, I’m really sorry for the long wait.  I’ve been working on a lot of projects, doing some collabs - I’ll actually be releasing one of those collabs tonight and I’m really excited for you guys to hear it. If you have any new songs you want to listen to together, go ahead and leave them in the chat!”

As soon as the stream started flowing, Vernon immediately knew why Soonyoung gave Woozi such rave reviews. The guy just had good vibes and he definitely knew his music. Vernon was hooked. Even Seungkwan, try as he might to look disinterested, couldn’t help bopping his head occasionally.

“Thanks for the subscription @chweinggum! You just helped me reach my tenth new sub for tonight, and you guys know what that means. Time for the new song! It was really fun to write this with my collaborator, so we really hope you like it!” 

After spending the past hour just vibing in Woozi’s Universe, discovering new songs and artists, Vernon had really hyped himself up to hear the streamer’s personal work. If Soonyoung’s words were true, this would be the song that would truly heal his heartache, the song that would push him to forget about the whole ordeal. He listened in anticipation as pleasant harmonies played through his laptop speakers. But as the song progressed, Vernon did not quite feel the reprieve he was hoping for. In fact, he was kind of taken aback. The lyrics… felt like they told his story. Maybe not word for word, but enough to make Vernon stare at the laptop screen with his mouth open. What kind of hocus pocus, That’s So Raven, mind reading shit was this? The song broke down the walls he had tried to build throughout the day and left him vulnerable to its strangely upbeat and energetic tune. 

He had to admit that he didn’t hate it. The cringe from his own actions did not disappear, but the song helped him focus more on the moments that made his heart flutter, the moments that incited those pesky butterflies in his stomach. They were the moments that made him so hard on himself in the first place and the reasons why it hurt so much that he messed up. She had made him feel seen. She had done everything right. And all he wanted to do was to show her that he saw her too. He just had to figure out how. 

Woozi clapped his hands loudly when the song came to an end, bringing Vernon out of his deep reverie. “And that was Pretty U by yours truly! I collaborated on it with an artist who doesn’t want to be named as of now, so I’ll just say it was great to work with such a talented person and I hope to work with them again soon! Anyway, we know the lyrics are pretty cheesy, but let’s just say it’s based on a juvenile romance! I tried capturing that giddy feeling of liking someone and wanting to tell them pretty words but losing confidence at the last second. I’m sure we’ve all been there before.”

Vernon sat up, nodding his head as if Woozi could see him. After his song scanned his soul like that, Vernon figured it wasn’t impossible.

“I know that some of my subscribers listen to me because they go through these kinds of hardships. But I wanted to say that my songs can’t fix everything. Even I go through it sometimes and I need someone to lean on. There’s actually a new thing I just found out about from a friend - ‘Dear Miss Soju’. It’s a column that they’re gonna start publishing on The Front’s website, and you can anonymously write in all your burning questions about love, relationships, or sex. So if you’re having a hard time confessing like in this song, just know that there’s someone out there to help you out!

“Since you’ll be anonymous, you can write about your heart’s deepest desires, even if it’s a little freaky. Yes, I’m talking to you, user @callmesoon, please stop trying to tell me about your sex life. Anyway, I’ll put the email in the description for anyone that’s interested!” Woozi paused to laugh at several of the comments. “No guys, The Front does not sponsor me. But I can tell you about a company that does sponsor me. Hello Fresh--”  

Seungkwan closed the laptop and sighed. “Well, that didn’t help me at all. Soonyoung hyung said this Woozi guy was gonna make me feel better, but now he’s just telling us to spilll all our secrets to some other stranger. What a scam! Right, Vernon? Vernon?”

By the time Seungkwan turned to look at his friend, Vernon was already writing his second draft for his email. The boy sighed again. Maybe he could give it a shot.

The next morning, Joohyun opened up her laptop to find thirteen emails in her inbox. She smiled. 

Now she could get to work.