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nogoinghomegame · 1 year ago

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Noel Gallaghers Reddit Absolutely."

NG: "You can send it to my management address, which is Number 54 Linhope Street, London, NW1 6 HL

Ask for Ray

Laughs evilly"

Question 2:

Steamedhams: "Do you ever get tired of those idiots who yell "Slide Away!" at your concerts?

If so, I'm sorry in advance for Monday night."

NG: "HA! Yes. I do."

NG: "I accept your groveling apology. And I still won't be playin' it."

Question 3:

Fagdrew4l: "hey noel, can you give me your favorite smiths song or songs?"

NG: "Ooooh! "Rusholme Ruffians." "The Queen is Dead." "There is a light that never goes out." "These Things Take Time." "Rubber Ring." And "Asleep." Amongst others."

Question 4:

Ericms: "Hey Noel, did the Japanese fan obsessed with your pants actually get to meet you in the end?"

NG: "No."

Question 5:

Thefeb83: "Hi Noel! Do you like classical music? Any favourite composers?"

NG: "ponders

Ennio Morricone is the only one that springs to mind. I've seen 'im twice in the last five years. And his music does bring a tear to my eye. I think he's a genius. Like me."

Question 6:

NoelyGFan: "Hiya Noel. Tayto or Walkers? Curlywurly or Double Decker? And a thank you to your wife for being such an inspiration for me to get fit. (Hence I don't eat any of those much anymore! :) )"

NG: "Tayto

Curlywurly. From the fridge

Oh wow! Well, I would high-five you back on 'er behalf. She's a fitness fanatic my wife. She's fucking gorgeous."

Question 7:

Aman50k: "I'll be attending one of your gigs for the first time this summer? Any advice, aside from not shouting out "LIAM!"?

Also could you please play an acoustic version of Go Let it Out sometime soon? It's one of my favourite tunes of yours!"

NG: "Eh - do I have any advice for you attendin'?

If you could find the time to buy some merchandise, that'd be great. A t-shirt preferably, maybe a poster, ideally a t-shirt AND a poster would be GREAT

Other than that, just clap in all the right places, and you know, don't shout out stupid fucking song titles."

Question 8:

Kyuzwafu: "Hi Noel, quick question. What is your guilty pleasure when it comes to music?"

NG: "Tears for Fears."

Question 9:

State_from_jakefarm: "Hi Noel

Your'e commentary on all of Oasis's music videos is possibly the best thing on Youtube and one of the funniest things ever

So I'm hoping that your stance on videos hasn't changed so we'll see some High Flying Birds commentary down the road. Right?

Also, if you play "All around the world" at the Sony Center on Monday I will dedicate a shrine to you in my closet"

NG: "Oh yeah. Absolutely

Then what better reason for not playing it? Hehehehe."

Question 10:

David_J_Huggins: "Hi Noel

Do you remember where the chant in the demo of Columbia was sampled from?

Sounds like a Hare Krishna-type chant to me, but would love to know where it was actually from. Thanks!"

NG: "None of us know. It was just - we switched on the radio - it was recorded in the middle of the night, about 3 or 4 AM, and we just... it was something that was on the BBC World Service I think or some fucking radio station. None of us know what it is. No idea."

Question 11:

Pottersground: "Hi Noel, fan since the Definitely Maybe days here. Thanks for doing this AMA. My three questions are:

1) If there had been one more Oasis album after Dig Out Your Soul, what do you think it would've been like? Which songs of yours or the other three would you have put on it?

2) What's your maddest Oasis story?

3) What lead to Lock All the Doors being dug up and rerecorded for Chasing Yesterday? And,while we're on the subject, are there any odds in any other old and unreleased songs being redone for future releases? I would love to hear a finished version of Gotta Have Fun from the '89 tape

Cheers Noel!"

NG: "1.) Okay. It would've been half of my first solo record, so "Record Machine" would've probably been on it... "Stop the Clocks" would've probably been on it, and "Dream On" and maybe "Stranded on the Wrong Beach" and then the rest of the guys would've put on some of their own songs

2.) Hah. Wow. Maddest Oasis story. Just the fact that we existed AT ALL and became the biggest band in the world is bizarre enough. I'm not going to share any Oasis stories with anybody online for fear of litigation and libel

Although needless to say - there were oiled midgets involved. grins

There, I've said too much

3.) "Gotta Have Fun?" What led to "Lock All the Doors" being resurrected was just the fact that I kept the chorus in my head all those years... and I just happened to be comin' out of the local supermarket, on a Sunday evening... and snaps fingers it fell out of the sky

That's it

There are no more hidden gems to be regurgitated

Good word. Regurgitated

"Gotta Have Fun?" Don't remember that one."

Question 12:

Ruben122: "Hi Noel. Huge fan from Montevideo, Uruguay here. Any plans on coming to South America? Thank you!"

NG: "Yes. I believe... it's pencilled in... although don't quote me on this... for March 2016."

Question 13:

FootballDropout: "Wow... I can't believe you're finally doing an AMA!

I've been a huge fan of your work for years, and Live Forever is my all-time favorite song. I love the new album, and I can't describe how happy I am that you finished Lock all the Doors. Your music, especially the Masterplan album and your first solo album has been the amazing soundtrack to my teenage years and helped me through some really rough times

Do you have any plans to release songs such as "Bye Bye My Family/Don't Stop Being Happy," "She Must Be One of Us" or "Just Let it Come Down Over Me"?

The Mustique Demos are something of a "Holy Grail" among Oasis fans. Will they be released with the Be Here Now reissue?

To get a response from you would be incredible, and again thank you for all the incredible music."

NG: "Okay

There will be a "Be Here Now" reissue

The Mustique Demos will be on it

Indeed

The 3 songs that you mentioned - "Bye Bye My Family" is called "Don't Stop..." - the other two will definitely be released at some point - not sure when."

Question 14:

Thefatronaldo: "Should City sack Pellegrini this summer and if so who would you like to see in charge next?"

NG: "Should they sack 'im, I don't know

Who should they get? I don't know that either."

Question 15:

*Unknown question*

NG: "Someone asked if I would ever be on Comedians In Cars Getting Coffee with Jerry Seinfeld:

In a heartbeat

I would fucking pay my own AIRFARE to do that

I'm a HUUUGE fan of Jerry Seinfeld. HUGE."

Question 16:

Laurakd7: "Do you get up to Manchester much these days and do you prefer London now?"

NG: "Eh - I go to Manchester to see my football team, Manchester City. When I go there, I love it. I usually spend about 2 or 3 nights there, at a time, and it's great, but London has become my home. And it's where I will probably stay from now on."

Question 17:

Danniboi1Derz: "What's your favorite thing to eat in the states?"

NG: "Ooooh!

Burgers

Burgers. Mexican food, 'cuz we don't get good Mexican food in England, and there's great Mexican food in America

And hot dogs."

NG: "The hot dog sandwich."

Question 18:

DannyBoi1Derz: "I know your son Donovan and you are pretty big WWE fans. Who's your favorite Wrassler??"

NG: "nods

At the moment - Donovan's favourite wrestler is Brock Lesner. Because he's mean, and evil

My favourite wrestler at the moment is Bray Wyatt. Because we met him when they did a show in London, and he was a really fucking nice guy. And we met Hulk Hogan, and he was a REALLY fucking nice guy. He asked if I was one of his Hulkamaniacs, and I had to say "yes, of course!" He came into this room, and I was going "Look Donovan, it's Hulk Hogan" and he goes "Look BROTHER, are you one of my Hulkamaniacs?!" and I said "Yes, of course!"

Question 19:

SuperT15: "Hey Noel, been a huge fan for years

What do you think is the most underrated Oasis song? Listen Up would be my choice."

NG: " "She is Love."

"Idler's Dream."

"Let's All Make Believe."

And... and... "Part of the Queue."

Question 20:

Frankm95: "Noel, do you consider a hotdog to be put under the category of a saddwich?"

NG: "Hahaha!

YES

Frequently

I frequently consider the hotdog a sandwich."

Question 21:

Lizzibarnes: "Also, forgot to ask! The ring with the red stone that you've always worn, what is the significance of it? I've always wondered! Thank you for being a rock-god."

NG: "gestures with ring

Thank you very much

I bought this ring in a pawn shop in Tokyo in the 90's. It's a US college ring that I believe people get when they graduate from college in America. It was given to somebody. I'm assuming a G.I. stationed in Tokyo, from Ruston High School in Mississippi (I've looked it up)

It has started many a boring conversation with some of the American armed forces in airport lounges across the world, when they'll say to me "Where'd you go to school buddy?"

"Manchester?"

"I see you got a ring there. Where'd you go to school?"

"I went to Ruston High School in Mississippi, as you can tell by my accent.""

Question 22:

Keepit_creepy: "Hi Noel, I have always wondered what your vocal warm-up consists of pre-gig?. Since your vocals are always on point!."

NG: "Eh... I sing "The Macarena." I do some yodelin'. And then I finish with "Crazy in Love" by Beyonce

Chuckles"

Question 23:

Gusrodlopez: "How was life before Oasis? did you had any life goal or something?"

NG: "No, where I came from, and the times that I grew up in, it was best not to have any ambitions. It was quite a bleak time

I never had a life goal until I wrote "Live Forever." And then when I wrote "Live Forever," I wanted to be in the biggest band in the world."

Question 24:

Riceomatic69: "Hey Noel, always wanted to ask this....back in the 90's you worked with Epiphone on your signature model "Supernova" guitar

However it didn't have any of the details of the custom shop Union Jack Epiphone you were most famous for at the time & have never seen any footage of you playing one

Did you have much involvement in the design or was it just a nice big bag of cash handed over for the use of your signature? :)"

NG: "chuckles

Okay, FIRSTLY, there was no big bag of fucking cash

Secondly, I was involved in the design

Thirdly, I can't fucking remember what my involvement was

Fourthly, I do have one, somewhere. But... I shouldn't have made them sonic blue color

It's disgustin'

Tell her I was high on the time, on drugs."

Question 25:

Bonojour: "Will there ever be a song featuring Boots? I think the meows would be a great harmony."

NG: "chuckles

Eh...Boots is an arrogant little shit

Yeah

That's my cat. He's been ignoring me for the last fucking five years

Me and Boots could never work together. There would be too many "artistic differences."

Question 26:

Venomousvillainy: "Hi. My Dad reckons he tested your eyes as a kid, do you remember going to an Opticians in Gorton?"

NG: "Gorton?

Yeah...kind of. Well, I know where Gorton is, and I know where my eyes are, and would I have had them tested in Gorton? I don't know

Gorton is like, an area of Manchester near where I used to live."

Question 27:

Jyhwkm: "Noel, you’ve always seemed dismissive of Oasis' Be Here Now - Heathen Chemistry years. Why is that? It was the ascots, wasn’t it?"

NG: "I dismiss "Be Here Now" because it's shit. And I'm allowed to say that because I fucking wrote it. "Heathen Chemistry" on the other hand, has its moments... "Force of Nature," "She is Love," "Little By Little," "Stop Crying Your Heart Out," etcetera

But yeah - "Be Here Now." Hmmm."

Question 28:

JamJam21: "Hi Noel! will you be adding anymore dates in the uk to your tour?"

NG: "I think there will be more dates, but not 'til 2016."

Question 29:

LordSifter: "You're still great mates with Gem - what's next for him? Will we see the 2 of you play together in the near future?"

NG: "I was with Gem about 4 weeks ago. Didn't get a chance to talk about anything really. It was at a party I was having in my dressing room, and there were too many people there. But if I needed on a track or a gig that thing that Gem offers, then I wouldn't hesitate to call him because I'd still like to think we're good friends and musical partners

As for what he's going to do in the future... I have no idea."

Question 30:

PraetorianGuard14: "Have you seen the new documentary on Kurt Cobain?"

NG: "No."

Question 31:

Jamesh134: "Hi Noel, what ever happened to the Oasis version of "The Roller"?

Also, I wanted to say thanks for all the music over the years. Been a source of inspiration all my life!"

NG: "Oh, thank you very much

The Oasis version of "The Roller" is... in somebody's... demo CD collection CD, somewhere. Not mine, I might add

Somebody will have it. Gem will probably have a copy of it. As has Liam, no doubt."

Question 32:

Sterlingavenueband: "Hi Noel. First of all- thank you for the many years of great music and leading me to my first guitar 18 years ago. Forever indebted to you for this

What are your thoughts on the songs 'Let's All Make Believe' and 'Roll It Over' and what are the chances of ever hearing them live? They're amongst two of my favourites of many which have never been done live before. Thanks in advance."

NG: "Eh - "Roll It Over" probably will never be performed live. But on the other hand, "Let's All Make Believe" I was messing around with it before this tour started, so I wouldn't be surprised if I play it in the very far distant future."

Question 33:

ZeppelinYanks: "Hey Noel! I'm a huge fan of Oasis and your solo work

A lot of what made Oasis great was the rock and roll attitude of "Fuck you, we're the greatest band in the world." What do you think about the current state of rock and roll? Is it alive, dead, or dying?"

NG: "ponders

I think that rock n' roll has turned into - or been turned into - a thing that is now referred to as "modern rock." Which is an awful title to give any kind of music. I think - I just think that the attitude, and the spirit, that we had is definitely disappearing."

Question 34:

Rodoalo: "Hi Noel, it's Rod from URUGUAY

My question has always been this:

Do you have any knowledge of music theory or did you learn songwriting by ear?

Cheers, your new record is amazing."

NG: "I learnt song-writin' by ear and instinct. I've never studied musical theory. I would never allow myself or any of my children to study musical theory. Because if you study musical theory, you will eventually end up soundin' like...shit

Hahaha."

Question 35:

Riceomatic69: "You have always spoken very highly of Ryan Adams & his version of Wonderwall, have you ever encountered anybody else that covered one of your tracks & thought it was as good as your version or maybe even better?"

NG: "No."

Question 36:

Look_who_it_isnt: "Hi Noel! I'm a huge fan. Your music has brought me so much enjoyment over the years - I can't even put it into words. I have major respect and love for you and wish you all the happiness in the world! I have two questions for you:

1) I love your sense of humor. You always make me laugh :) What's your favorite comedy, either from TV or movies?

2) A lot of us ladies think you're just the hottest thing ever. Does it bother you to be considered a veritable sex god? ;)"

NG: "1.) SEINFELD. The greatest thing that's ever been on television

2.) It's a cross I have to bear. And unfortunately... you know, it's a long road that I will have to carry this cross down. But I could think of worse things to be. I.E... a French person in Montreal."

Question 37:

Loulou96: "Hi Noel

I heard on radio 1 you perform shows wearing no underwear, can you confirm?"

NG: "Yeah, well, clearly that was a joke."

Question 38:

Super2goten: "Hey! Whose names were written on that napkin, Noel?

Thanks for being a legend! Think The Dying Of The Light/The Right Stuff/While The Song Remains The Same may be your best work yet, so thanks for that too! CTID!"

NG: "The names on the napkin was yours and your family's."

NG: "And I agree with those songs being my best work, and I admire your taste."

Question 39:

GiovaniGuizzo: "Hello Mr. Gallagher. Thanks for doing this AmA. I am a huge Oasis's and NGHFB's fan and I actually have several questions, but I will contain myself and ask just 3:

Which music is this one https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_5mYMKfuUYc ? It sounds pretty amazing. Would you consider recording it eventually? Can you give us the name of this tune at least?

Have you met the girl of "Talk Tonight" after you wrote the song? If you have, how was the meeting?

I loved your new album, specially the "Lock All the Doors" track (what a blast from the past). Can we expect other reworked songs from the past in your future albums?

PS: You would like to take a look at /r/oasis. There are some interesting and insightful posts there from some mad fans."

NG: "1.) That song is called "Don't stop..." I've already recorded it. The reason it didn't make it onto "Chasing Yesterday" was because it didn't fit the vibe of the album. Needless to say, when I finally get 'round to releasing it, I think it will be one of my best ever releases. The sound of it is more akin to the first album, and I felt like "Chasing Yesterday" had moved on a little bit. But it's a great song, and I love it, and when I finally release it, you're going to love it (fans, that is)

2.) Eh - no, I haven't. I struggle to remember her name, to be honest

3.) No. That's it now, I'm afraid. The cupboards are bare."

Question 40:

Rak86t: "You're a great story teller and have such a way with words. Would you ever consider writing a book?"

NG: "looks around room

No."

Question 41:

Supersonic5: "Hey Chief! Never in a million years thought I’d see you do an AMA

You mentioned that you regret the name ‘Chasing Yesterday’, would you change it if you could, and what would you change it to?"

NG: ""Regret" is too strong a word. I don't think it's the greatest title I ever came up with. But then again, neither was "What's the Story, Morning Glory." If I could change it now, I'd probably change it to... eh... "Dark Side of the Room"

OR "Wheat is Murder." Hahahaha!"

Question 42:

Chenredditdude: "Hey Noel, I've noticed that in many songs you play E MINOR... Is it a heavenly chord?"

NG: "Hmmm

I guess it must be."

Question 43:

Govt_cheeze: "Hello Noel

How does it feel to be one of the last true rockstars?

What do you think of the new Blur album?"

NG: "It feels good to be one of the last rockstars

If in fact, that's what I am

And from what I've heard of the new Blur album, it sounds pretty good."

Question 44:

Rpm959: "What do you think it will take for guitar music to make a comeback?"

NG: "Somebody to write some fucking great songs

That's all it'll ever take

That's all it takes. People can talk about "attitude," and "spirit" and fucking good-looking guys in bands, and vibe, and fucking blah-blah-blah. I dare ANYBODY from the next generation to write one decent chorus

Yeah

Just one."

Question 45:

Justsomepersononredd: "Hi Noel, huge fan of most of your work

1) Do you ever get tired of people asking you all kinds of questions about Oasis? I've watched a few interviews with you post-Oasis and pretty much everyone's asked you a question or two about Oasis, I suppose I'm really not being different but do you ever feel like people should just move on?

2) How has touring and your creative process changed over the years? I mean, the music you put out now is quite different from the start of your career and I'm guessing there isn't as much partying behind the scenes as when you started

3) Which modern-day bands do you listen to nowadays? I discovered Kasabian by watching an interview of you and I think they're amazing, so thanks for that too

4) Any musicians you'd like to collaborate with?

5) I read that you had another brother, Paul, but I've never actually heard anything about him. What's he like?

6) What do you think of all these new forms of music distribution? Itunes, Spotify, Tidal, etc

Thanks for your time, hope you enjoy your AMA, and keep being an awesome musician"

NG: "1.) Yes. I do feel like they should move on. But I don't mind answerin' the questions if they're from fans, because i know how much that band meant, and continues to mean to people. So in my head, and my heart, I've moved on. So it's cool

2.) There's certainly not as much partying in front of the scenes, that's for sure. Everything changes as you get older in life. You know, you don't attempt as much as you did when you're 47 as you did when you were 27 - whether that be length of time on the road, or partying, or amount of songs that you write, or the places you're willing to go to write those songs. The life of a musician in regards to gettin' older is just the same as everybody else's life as they get older. Your fucking shit changes. Not literally

3.) Eh - yes, Kasabian would be one of my favourites. There's a band called Neon Waltz that you should check out. I'm not sure... there's a band called Jungle. Fucking hell, they are amazin'. Other than that, I'm still discovering old stuff from the 60's, I'm afraid

4.) Dave Gillmore, Jeff Beck, Davie Bowie would be - fucking hell, that would blow my mind if he would even shake a maraca for one tune, that'd be great. Yeah

5.) Heh. He's a fucking idiot - I'm only jokin' - haha! He's a dj. He - when I'm on tour in the UK - he does my official after show parties. And he's a funny, funny dude

6.) I don't agree with streamin'. I certainly don't agree with the lack of royalties that I receive from streamin'. I realize that the world is changin', and the way that people receive music - and even the fact that I use the phrase "receive music" is a fucking disgrace. I would rather that people own it. But I'm not sure where it's all going to end, if I'm being honest

I'll try."

Question 46:

Pheelip: "Hey Noel, huge fan. What do you think has been your greatest musical achievement?"

NG: "Whooooooo

I couldn't say with any great sense of certainty, because it changes every day for me, but I'm going to say the song "Rock & Roll Star" because it sums up everything about bein' young, and bein' in a band, and the hopes and dreams of, you know, a young land from Manchester

And it's a fucking great song."

Question 47:

MadferitNYC: "Do you think a rock band in 2015 can reach the level of popularity that Oasis reached? Or do you think that the music industry is too dead for there ever to be a rock band that reaches those heights again?"

NG: "I think that the days of a rock band explodin' out of a council estate in the north of England and going on to connect with so many people in so many countries around the world... I think the chances of that happenin' again are very, very slim

But we live in hope."

Question 48:

Karmarghh: "Hey Noel, been a huge fan of yours almost all 20 years of my life. I have been lucky enough to see NGHFB twice recently and just want to tell you the new album is f***ing incredible! You, among the likes of Bacharach and Macca, are my absolute inspiration for pursuing a life in Music, so thanks for that. Anyway - couple questions for you:

1) As a songwriter, could you let me in on your approach to melody? I listen to yours and ask myself "why the bloody hell didn't I think of that?!". Do they really just pop into your head or do you find there is a lot of trial and error?

2) Reckon you can give me a kick-start and replace Mike Rowe with me on keys? He's a cool guy, but I'll do it for nothing. That gives me the edge right? Oh and I won't f*ck it up - I promise!!

Take it easy Noel, and keep doing what you're doing. Riverman blows my mind."

NG: "1.) Eh - it depends. The great ones usually just pop into your head. And seem to just fall out of the sky. And then some of them you have to work at. There is no golden rule or any rule set in stone for songwritin'. No matter what anybody might tell you, it seems to change from song to song for me. But I guess... I always, always, ALWAYS let the melody dictate the rest. I don't worry about the chords. I just let the melody dictate where the song's going to go and sometimes they're great and sometimes they're not

2.) Well, you're in! Cheap labor is my forte, haha."

Question 49:

Sally_cinnamon_: "Hi Noel! First of all, thanks for giving us so much great music. You truly are a godlike genius

My question for you is: where did your sense of humor and talent for storytelling come from? Because I think you are genuinely one of the funniest people in the world seemingly without even trying

Also, do you still think dogs in hats and sunglasses are hilarious?"

NG: "Well - dogs in hats and sunglasses - there is *NOTHING* funnier than a dog in a hat

Ehm - I don't know. My sense of humor, I don't know. It's Irish, it must've been passed down to me from somebody in Ireland."

Question 50:

Jeavo: "Hi Noel, thanks for doing this AMA

If at all any, what video games do you play?"

NG: "I don't play video games

I have a life. And that life is too short for video games

Some of my band play video games on tour. It drives me up the fucking wall. And it's one of the main reasons why I'll probably fire the fucking lot of them on this tour."

Question 51:

Shivan21: "Hi Noel! I've always wondered about the meaning of D'you know what I mean video, and especially the fact that there is Be Here Now and D'you know what I mean written in czech language. The video has very 60's atmosphere for me and they are also alluded by Beatles references. Considering the military choppers, could be the video understood as refering to the Prague Spring in 1968?"

NG: "No. Okay. The video for "D'You know what I mean" was shot on the deserted set of FULL METAL JACKET, which is still - you can still visit it in London - so it's an old, disused gasworks in London. The Czech writing, I'm not sure what that's all about, I thought it was Vietnamese writin'. The choppers was a reference to Vietnam. What any of that has to do with the fucking song is beyond me. I don't even know what the song's about, never mind the video!"

Question 52:

Brutalful: "Hi Noel

I am curious what (if anything) is still on your bucket list?

If you have done it all, what are your top 5 moments in life, and is playing with Johnny Marr on that list?

Cheers!"

NG: "Okay. First of all - a bucket list is the most fucking ludicrous fucking term I've ever heard, in my life

BUT

I would like someday to record an album in New York. I would also like to have Dave Gilmore play on a track for me. And Jeff Beck. I think that's about it

Oh, actually, I also still think that one day I'm going to write the greatest song in the world."

Question 53:

Nathanoasis: "Hello Noel! Your music is incredible, all 20 years of it, and it has changed my life. Thank you for that and thank you for doing this AMA. I have a question about the song that is going around the Internet under the name "Bye Bye My Family" (and "Don't Stop the Happenin'" and "Hold Back the Night"). From what we've heard, the song sounds amazing. Will this song ever be recorded and released? Thank you again and keep on being an absolute fucking legend!"

NG: "chuckles

I pretty much just answered that question about 20 minutes ago. It's a song called "Don't Stop..."

I've already recorded it. It didn't make it onto "Chasing Yesterday" because it sounded a bit too much like what was already on the first High Flying Birds album

But it will be released, in, you know... soon!"

Question 54:

MidnightPizza: "Hello Mr. Gallagher! I'd like to thank you for all the music you wrote. I hope to see one of your show soon and maybe pay you a beer. Here are my questions:

1) Are you still thinking about doing an album with Damon Albarn? What do you think about The Magic Whip, Blur's latest album?

2) What's your opinion about Dave Sardy's input on your work? Some people think that your latest work (especially your first solo album) could've been better without him and that producing Chasing Yesterday yourself was refreshing. I personally enjoy the Dave Sardy produced albums as much as any other album you wrote

Anyway, congratulation on Chasing Yesterday. It really is a great album."

NG: "1.) Ehm - the thing with Damon was a flippant comment as casually thrown around as "We should go for a drink." As for makin' an album, I would be amazed if either of us ever had the time to make that work. As for "The Magic Whip," I like the tracks "Lonesome Street" and "Ong Ong" - I haven't heard any of the rest of it, but if those two tracks are anything to go by, sounds like it's going to be good

2.) Ehm - his input was fantastic. And at the time, invaluable. And I couldn't have got my solo career off the ground without him. All that being said - you know, my record, this record, "Chasing Yesterday," sounds that good. With any producer, it's all about the relationship, as opposed to the skills that they can bring. But me and Dave, you know, still to this day we remain good friends, and maybe we'll work together again in the future."

Question 55:

SnakeArms: "Hi Noel! In ALL of your interviews you've said that the original verses to 'Lock All The Doors' went to The Chemical Brother's 'Setting Sun’, which is weird, because the 1993 demos we have suggest that the songs original verses were instead used in 'My Sister Lover' and the verses that went to 'Setting Sun' came from a different demoed song 'Coming on Strong'. Have we missed something or does any of this sound true at all??

Oh, and what happened to 'Slow' and 'The Red, White & Blue'?!"

NG: "You should bear in mind that my memory's not the best

If you're telling me it's from a different song, then I would probably agree

I'd like to think that the Chemical Brothers story is a better STORY though

So let's keep that between us."

Question 56:

LittleWoodstock: "Hey Noel, big fan of all your work!

Is your work any different with the High Flying Birds than it was with Oasis? Are there any aspects from the Oasis days you miss?"

NG: "I miss... the camaraderie of being in a band, in the studio. That is to say, there are massive benefits - by makin' a record on your own, you can change direction very very quickly. And you don't have to run things by "the committee" of band members

On the other hand, it's great to share, you know... to share the greatness with other people, d'you know what I mean? If I can give you an analogy, you know, the more people at a party, the better

Shrugs

Although it's sometimes nice to party on your own."

Question 57:

MONTREAL_COME_ON: "WHY TORONTO AND NOT MONTREAL? we've got a better hockey club and our football team is getting better every year."

NG: "Because I went to a fucking donut shop once in Montreal, and all the staff spoke French! And last time I looked - France was on the other side of the fucking world

So I say to the people of Montreal - au revoir

Hahahaha!"

Question 58:

ExtremelySexyMan: "Hey Noel, first off, huge fan, thanks for doing this

My question is, after writing great songs for more than 20 years now, where do you get your inspiration for new material? I imagine it to be the most difficult part of being a musician, and I am continually blown away by your work

Cheers, and go City!"

NG: "Ehm... I guess I'm a product of my record collection, which is ever-expanding and gets ever-more eclectic. And I don't ever sit down when I'm writin' a song and feel like I've got anything profound to say to the universe... I just - to coin the phrase from that godawful film FROZEN... I just let it go... let it go!

Smiles"

Question 59:

Stevie_j: "Noel, thanks for many years of amazing music. Please don't stop

Have you ever thought of doing a comedy tour? Seriously."

NG: "HA!!!!

Fucking hell - NO.”

#noel gallagher #my stuff #my drafts

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pearlmoney · 1 year ago

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The Haunting of Miss Caroline Marsden (snippet)

The audience’s applause could be heard two storeys down, everyone knew the name Caroline Marsden. She stepped from behind the tall black curtains putting on her best smile, she had practised everyday since she was ten for this exact moment. Her sleek black heels clacked on the hardwood floor, she felt as if she would slip with every step she took. It seemed like their cheering would never stop, this stage was so big, it would take at least twenty seconds to walk to the desk. Caroline kept her performed smile on, waving back to the hundreds of staring faces who claimed to know everything about her; who all adored her. Finally, Caroline was on the other side of the stage, shaking hands with an equally, but not quite as, famous TV host. She sat down on the bouncy red couch, feeling the bumpy rhinestones on her dress under her.

‘Welcome Caroline, it’s so lovely to have you here! Can we all give her another big round of applause?’ Oh god not again. Their hands must be red at this point. Did she even care though? The applause is what she lived for, she needed it. Caroline continued smiling, her face still like stone on the brink of collapse. The clapping slowly faded and Caroline locked eyes with the host once again.

‘So, Please Let Go, huh? Coming to theatres on March 10th; What an amazing piece of work this is!’

‘Oh yes, thank you John.’

‘Why don’t you tell us a little bit more about this film?’

As soon as that question is asked it feels as though everything fades, all sounds are muffled and her vision subsides, Caroline is only able to see her memories and her art.

‘Well, Please Let Go is a drama piece about a girl, Rachael, who is in a difficult first relationship and doesn’t know how to get out of it because she’s afraid of what her partner will say or do. It’s a very important piece of film that I think a lot of young people can relate to and find comfort in.’ she talked so highly of her work it made her want to vomit. Caroline never wanted to be one of those directors who were stuck up and talked freely about how amazing they were. She knew she and her art were perfect but no one was allowed to use that against her, so she had to be perceived as humble. But the applause gets to her, and she can’t help but talk like she’s the only person in the world.

‘That’s amazing. Now what’s the backstory to this film? How did you come to create it?’

Caroline smiled wider than she thought possible and let out a breath of satisfaction. This was her favourite question. She sat up and fixed her posture, wanting to look her absolute best.

‘Well it’s actually based on the book my partner wrote with the same name. I remember reading it the first time and being so moved by it, I just couldn’t stop thinking about it.’

‘Did you two write this together?’

‘Oh my partner Rose definitely helped me a lot, I mean it was based on their book, of course I’d look to her for guidance.’

There were soft ‘aaw’s in the crowd as Caroline spoke of Rose, someone these fans should be quite familiar with by now. The amount Caroline talks about them online and in interviews was astounding, she was shocked no one told her to be quiet by now.

‘That’s lovely, and where is Rose tonight?’

‘She’s in Seattle on her book tour, promoting her new limited edition version of Please Let Go. I hope they’re watching me in their hotel room tonight.’ Caroline spoke with a less forced and more fond smile, thinking about her loved partner watching her from afar. Caroline looked right down the barrel of one of the huge film cameras on set, ‘I love you Rosey, I hope you’re having a good time over there.’ The audience erupted in cheers once again, Caroline’s ears didn’t respond to it, blocking it out as she dreamt of her partner being here with her talking about their new movie.

She sighed, opening the fridge to find another drink, but she had already wasted them all. She hung her head in shame before turning to the clock on the microwave. ‘7:09AM’ it read, that familiar pit sat in her stomach realising she’s gone another night without sleep. How long has it been now? 75 hours? It was hard to keep track, Caroline had more important things to think about, like her premiere in two weeks, her fitting tomorrow, or well today. And the funeral on Friday. Before she could even stop herself she let out a quiet chuckle.

‘What kind of heartless bastard holds a funeral on a Friday? Like come on Jill, we all have better things to be doing, I’d rather spend my Friday dressed in a bikini on the beach with a drink in one hand and a woman in the other! Not standing around people I hate, mourning a person who shouldn’t even be having this so called fucking celebration!' Caroline shouted to no one, throwing her half empty bottle at the wall opposite her, gasping as it shattered against the paint. She stared at the wet stain on the wall, trying to slow her breathing back to normal but failing completely. She left the glass pile on the floor, too distressed to even think about cleaning it. She slowly walked back to her chair and slumped down, giving a long dramatic sigh. Caroline hadn’t felt like this since college. Excessive depression and nothing to help it, not a single thing could pull her out of her ‘funk’ as her mom would call it. Well there was one thing, but she was gone now.

Thank you so much for reading a short piece from my book I'm working on The Haunting of Miss Caroline Marsden!! If you want to learn a little more about it, have a look at my pinned post on my account. I have been working so hard on this project for a few months now and would love feedback on it. If you have any questions, comments, critiques, please share!!

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homeiswherethe-artis · 1 year ago

Text

The Haunting of Miss Caroline Marsden (snippet)

‘So, Please Let Go, huh? Coming to theatres on March 10th; What an amazing piece of work this is!’

‘Oh yes, thank you John.’

‘Why don’t you tell us a little bit more about this film?’

As soon as that question is asked it feels as though everything fades, all sounds are muffled and her vision subsides, Caroline is only able to see her memories and her art.

‘That’s amazing. Now what’s the backstory to this film? How did you come to create it?’

Caroline smiled wider than she thought possible and let out a breath of satisfaction. This was her favourite question. She sat up and fixed her posture, wanting to look her absolute best.

‘Well it’s actually based on the book my partner wrote with the same name. I remember reading it the first time and being so moved by it, I just couldn’t stop thinking about it.’

‘Did you two write this together?’

‘Oh my partner Rose definitely helped me a lot, I mean it was based on their book, of course I’d look to her for guidance.’

‘That’s lovely, and where is Rose tonight?’

The loud applause was cut short by the TV switching off, leaving Caroline in a dark, cold, empty room. Tissues, wrappers, bottles, anything else that would’ve been cleaned off the floor in an instant stayed there in a depressing tableau, almost waiting to be put away, watching in judgement at Caroline’s newly found state. Caroline stared at the black screen, just able to see her now rejected reflection. Before she could think too hard on that, she pulled herself up from her chair and dragged her feet to the kitchen. She sighed, opening the fridge to find another drink, but she had already wasted them all. She hung her head in shame before turning to the clock on the microwave. ‘7:09AM’ it read, that familiar pit sat in her stomach realising she’s gone another night without sleep. How long has it been now? 75 hours? It was hard to keep track, Caroline had more important things to think about, like her premiere in two weeks, her fitting tomorrow, or well today. And the funeral on Friday. Before she could even stop herself she let out a quiet chuckle.

‘What kind of heartless bastard holds a funeral on a Friday? Like come on Jill, we all have better things to be doing, I’d rather spend my Friday dressed in a bikini on the beach with a drink in one hand and a woman in the other! Not standing around people I hate, mourning a person who shouldn’t even be having this so called fucking celebration!’ Caroline shouted to no one, throwing her half empty bottle at the wall opposite her, gasping as it shattered against the paint. She stared at the wet stain on the wall, trying to slow her breathing back to normal but failing completely. She left the glass pile on the floor, too distressed to even think about cleaning it. She slowly walked back to her chair and slumped down, giving a long dramatic sigh. Caroline hadn’t felt like this since college. Excessive depression and nothing to help it, not a single thing could pull her out of her ‘funk’ as her mom would call it. Well there was one thing, but she was gone now.

Thank you for reading a section of my book The Haunting of Miss Caroline Marsden!! If you have any questions or want to see more let me know, I do want to start posting more about my books and actual content in them.

#original story #writer #young writer #original character #my book #WIP book #wip #book teaser #book snippet #ghost story #mystery book #new writer

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leejungchans · 2 years ago

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seventeen’s reaction to the camera panning to them when their idol!s/o is on stage

༉‧₊˚✧ for my 1k event !

requested by anon : may i req svt reactions w/ idol s/o? you can decide on the scenario but cld i also add a detail that their relationship is public? thank you and congratulations once again!!!

a/n: hehe ty to the other anon who gave me the idea for the scenario <33 our braincells really clicked 🤝 i hope you both like this!!

word count | 1k

pairing | seventeen x gn!reader

genre | fluff, idol au

warning(s) / includes | none (please lmk if i missed anything!)

⋆͛♡⋆͛ seungcheol

gets so, so shy because he was literally caught in 4k with the biggest, goofiest smile on his face. look, it’s not his fault you decided to throw in a cute wink during your part. the second he realises he’s on the big screens, the fans start screaming and he turns bright red in .2 seconds, though the smile on his face is unwavering even as he covers his face. gets teased a lot by the guys after. (“look at coups acting all cute.”)

⋆͛♡⋆͛ jeonghan

totally unfazed. what, did you expect something else from yoon jeonghan? when they pan to him after your solo dance break, he simply makes eye contact with the camera and gives an approving nod with a grin on his face, which only makes the fans scream louder. he’s proud of you and he’s completely unapologetic with showing it.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ joshua

has his signature (⊙.⊙) look when he realises he got caught staring at the big screen after your part with literal heart eyes. you can't blame his inability to even hide his fondness when you’re the cause—you just look so captivating in your stage outfit and you’re absolutely killing the performance he knows you worked so hard for, who else is he supposed to look all smitten for? probably gives a goofy lil thumbs-up to the camera (because he doesn’t know how else to react) that you’ll definitely clown him for later when you scroll through twitter.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ jun

probably doesn’t even realise he was on the big screens the first time it happens because he’s so absorbed in your performance. only finds out when minghao, who was sitting next to him, told him about it. the cameramen definitely do it again though, and this time he notices just how smitten he looks as your group goes up on stage to receive an award. not that he’s complaining.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ soonyoung

another member who doesn’t get shy. like, at all. he’s jamming out to the rearranged version of your most recent release when they suddenly switch to put him on the big screens, while he’s still in the middle of nodding his head along to the music and excitedly mouthing to the lyrics. horanghaes when the fans start cheering because…well, he loves you. <3

⋆͛♡⋆͛ wonwoo

he’s observant, so he notices he’s being put on the big screen almost right away, but he pretends he doesn’t. he just prefers not to make a big deal out of it and take the attention away from your performance, so he keeps clapping along to the music until the camera eventually pans away. but once you look at the clip more closely after the show, you’d notice the rosy tint to his ears and the barely noticeable curl of his lips.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ jihoon

another member who’s blissfully unaware of the fact that he was put on the big screens. he’s always so focused on the music during other performances, but especially when it’s you up there. he’s so busy watching you on stage that he doesn’t even notice his face plastered on the huge screens. one of the guys tells him when it’s gone, and it’s then when it clicks why the fans had screamed so loudly. gets a little flustered for the next few minutes, but it’s in the past so he doesn’t linger on it too much.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ seokmin

he’ll always be your biggest supporter, so once the cameramen see him happily singing along to your group’s song like a true fan they immediately turn the camera around to film him. he gives the camera a huge smile and thumbs-up, though if it focuses on him a little too long he’d point back to the stage as a way to tell them to film your performance instead, because you’re always the main character in his eyes. you two end up trending everywhere for being couple goals.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ mingyu

uh-oh. the camera would catch him right when he’s biting down on his lower lip seductively because he’s just so blown away by how you look, not just in terms of your outfit but also from how you’re oozing with sheer confidence. goes from 100 to 0 the second he realises he’s been caught, and it definitely leads to him being mercilessly teased by his members. probably even earns a few laughs from his other idol friends, which makes him revert back into shy puppy mode and hide behind his members.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ minghao

he’s subtly mouthing along to your lines when the camera unexpectedly pans over to catch his reaction due to your recent dating news. his eyes widen a little and he freezes for a split second because he’s not sure how to deal with the sudden attention, especially when the audience starts screaming. but he recovers quickly and gives a little wave before the camera pans back to the stage, a soft blush on his cheeks as he devotes his full attention back to your performance.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ seungkwan

as one of the most supportive, outgoing idols in the industry, absolutely no one is surprised when he jumps up and claps happily when you win an award. all cameras are on you both as you walk past where seventeen are sitting on your way to the stage, capturing the huge smiles you send each other. they show his face on the big screen sometime during your speech, and everyone can tell how whipped he is from his starry eyes while he watches you like the proud boyfriend he is.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ vernon

:man_standing: personified. he’s just trying to vibe to your performance in peace, so when they unexpectedly project his face onto the big screens he’s so startled. still, he acknowledges the camera and gives an awkward little smile and ✌🏻 before turning back to the stage, hoping they will pan away from him soon enough. it’s cute, i promise, and you’d definitely find him really endearing once someone shows you the video.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ chan

he’s so absorbed in your performance that he doesn’t notice, especially not after your group’s dance break. one of the others nudges him when they see him appear on the screens, so he turns to face the camera and gives his signature :] smile. he’s a little perplexed from being put on the spot so suddenly, but he tries not to show it. gets more and more flustered the longer the camera lingers on him and probably bursts out laughing to brush off the embarrassment.

if you enjoyed my writing, please take a little time to reblog and give feedback to support it <3 interact with content creators please !

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jakesimfromstatefarm · 4 years ago

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notoriously yours | jay park

✰ summary: jay park is a rich kid. it’s safe to say he has everything every broke college student on his campus could dream of and more. but the one thing he doesn’t have, which money definitely can’t buy, is a girlfriend. and his friends won’t see of it. literally.

so what happens when his friends bet him to date someone for more than three months? what happens when jay decides that fake-dating someone would be easier than actual dating (because god forbid Jay–the campus’ notoriously known fuckboy–decides to commit to something once in his life)?

and what happens when that someone is you, his childhood best friend he hasn’t spoken to in years..who has absolutely no interest in being in his life anymore?

✰ pairing: jay park x y/n [ft. members of enha]

✰ genre: fluff, comedy, angst | fakedating!au, college!au, childhoodbestfriends!au, (kinda) e2l!au

✰ warnings: cursing, nothing suggestive but jay's a fuckboy so slightly suggestive themes, mentions of parental neglect/leaving, it's hella long (and i thought my last fic was long)

✰ wc: 14.7k (how did i get it this long oh lord)

✰ author's note: picture creds go to original owners/editors! peep that edit of jay that lowkey inspired this entire fic 👀also this took me so, so long bc i lost motivation half way thru and bc college is a thing,,,so i honestly don't know how to feel abt it so pls bare with me :')))) ALSO the dividers are weird bc idk how to add more than 10 pics for the dividers so pls excuse those ٩(× ×)۶i hope u guys enjoy!! <333

⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺

Jay Park is a rich kid.

Jay Park has enough to buy every textbook he needs for his courses without having to look up the free versions online. Jay Park has enough to bribe his professors to let him pass every class with a perfect 4.0 GPA (but because the boy has morals, he doesn't). Jay Park has enough to afford a car to drive to his furthest class from his dorm building instead of walk or bike like every other college student, meaning he also has enough to afford a parking spot on campus (those things aren't cheap!).

Jay Park walks around your school's campus like he owns the place (and considering the amount of money his family has donated to the school, he practically does), looking like he just walked out of your local coffee shop's newest fashion magazine. His blonde hair is never seen untouched, his attire usually consisting of an undoubtedly high-end all-black fit, accessorized with multiple earrings and rings that probably cost more than all the overpriced textbooks you had to rent out this semester. It's safe to say that everyone knows Jay Park.

Bottom line is, Jay Park has everything.

Well, his friends beg to differ.

In their eyes, Jay Park has everything but a simple factor in the equation of love (or whatever love is to the minds of a couple of 19 year olds): commitment.

So yes, it's safe to say that everyone knows Jay Park. Because everyone knows he's the campus' rich fuckboy. (What's a college fanfic campus without one anyways?)

Jay doesn't go unreminded of this by his friends, to the boy's annoyance.

Jay is aware of this on a Sunday afternoon, in his dorm building's first floor lounge, where he and his said friends are having a study session.

They're doing anything but studying.

In fact, no one has any books out or anything. Not a single laptop in site.

"You don't think it's the slightly bit concerning?" Jake's words are muffled as he continues munching on the fried chicken that he spent majority of this study session debating if he should have it delivered through UberEats or not.

"I really don't, no," Jay shrugs as he continues mindlessly scrolling through his Instagram feed. They're having the same argument conversation that they've revisited multiple times over the course of their friendship, one that Jay has been lectured on too many times for his own good. He thinks his friends could become his new parents if they really tried.

"Look at it this way, okay. You're about to graduate college in a couple of years, into the big world. Like the actual, adult world. And that means you'll have to settle down. Which you can't do when you. have. no. commitment!" Jake punctuates each word with a single clap of his hands, desperate to get his point across.

Jay simply rolls his eyes. He looks over to Sunghoon, who's minding his own business, not bothered by the same topic he's heard over and over again. His eyes tell Jay you're on your own, in response to his blonde-haired friend's look of despair.

Jay thinks that maybe he should get new friends. Yes, that's the only solution here.

"My love life," Jay reaches across the table for a drumstick from the greasy tub seated in Jake's lap until Jake swats his hand away, "is none of your business. Also, ouch."

"Uh, it kinda is. Because of you and your reputation around campus, it kinda affects us, your best friends. How do you think we look, hanging out with the guy who's known to ghost every girl in existence after one night with them? No offense to you," Jake deadpans to him. Jay mentally reconsiders the term best friends.

Tough love. Jay tells himself it's tough love.

"Yes, because every girl totally hates Jake Sim, the teacher assistant of a physics class who volunteers at the pet shelter every Sunday and brings their pet golden retriever to campus every two weeks," Jay rolls his eyes at his Australian friend.

Jake sighs. "Okay, then I'm coming from a place of worry for you."

Jay groans. "Again, none of your business!" This doesn't stop Jake. He comes from good intentions, really, but Jay wants nothing more than to stuff the kid's mouth with some of that chicken to shut him up.

"What are you gonna do if one day you meet someone you like, genuinely like, and you screw yourself over because you've never been in an actual relationship before? A real, committed one. Like one that lasts at least three months."

"You don't think I can last three months in a relationship?" Jay questions the boy currently taunting him.

"Honestly? No. What's the longest relationship you've been in?" Jake cocks an eyebrow at his friend across from him.

One month and two weeks. But Jay's smart enough to not say that out loud.

"I can so last over three months," Jay mutters more to himself than Jake.

Jake laughs at that, pausing to take another bite of the drumstick in his hand. "Jay, I am willing to actually bet you. Bet that you wouldn't be able to." He leans back on the couch, the ball now in Jay's court.

Jay freezes, looking up from his phone, narrowing his eyes at Jake.

"Forget it, Jake. He's not gonna agree even if you offered him money," Sunghoon finally perches from beside him. Well he's not wrong. It's not like Jay is exactly in need of more money, per say.

"What kind of bet are we talking here?"

Sunghoon's right. Jay doesn't need the money, but he does hate being wrong. Even if it's over something as stupid as this matter.

Caught off guard by the blonde's answer, Jake blinks blankly at him and takes a second to think.

"Hmm..what about...what about if you can date someone for at least three months, and I mean an actual, committed relationship, then I'll do all of your physics homework next semester."

Jay's eyes sparkle at that. If there's anything he despises more than commitment, it's physics.

"And if I win, you have to buy all of my textbooks," Jake sits back from the edge of his seat with a smirk lying on his face.

Jay pauses to think about it. I mean, what does he have to lose? A couple hundred dollars over college textbooks? No. Because he just simply won't lose.

And maybe he'll learn what it'll be like to actually be in a committed relationship for once. Maybe he'll finally learn what it's like to actually devote yourself to someone, open up to them. He shivers at the thought. Never mind. He'll warm up to it. Baby steps.

Nonetheless, what could go wrong? Even if he does lose, at least his money would be going somewhere productive––towards his friend's education. Jay was probably gonna use that money on something useless like a blanket that resembles a tortilla (a burrito blanket, he calls it)––something he doesn't necessarily need, but must have, he would argue.

"Fine. Whatever, okay. Deal," he grabs Jake's extended hand in front of him and shakes on it.

Jake's impressively smiling at the boy as Sunghoon lets out a sigh, in disbelief with the two guys he calls his best friends.

Jay concludes that this will be easier than his Introduction to Photography 101 course he took his freshman year. How hard is it to find someone to date the Jay Park? Surely, everyone will be lining up once Jay switches his FaceBook relationship status from "it's complicated" to "single".

Turns out, it's not as easy as his class where all Jay had to do was take pictures of a pretty sunset, slap a VSCO filter on, and call it a day.

He comes to this realization on a Wednesday evening, as he's seated at one of the many study tables lined in the middle of the campus' library, staring down at his phone's dry iMessage app, with his laptop and blank sheets of scratch paper scrambled across the entire table, as an attempt to look half as studious as the other students studying in the facility.

Turns out, being known as the campus' fuckboy who ghosts every girl on campus isn't a good thing when it comes to wanting to find a real relationship.

He comes to this realization after failing to receive a single text back to the many ones he sent out throughout the first half of his day. The ghoster gets ghosted. Oh how the turn tables.

Jay groans dramatically as he tosses his phone on the hard surface of the table, earning himself a harsh shush from the librarian filing books in the aisle beside him.

He sheepishly smiles back as an apology, directing his attention back to his open laptop screen, where his untouched calculus homework stares back at him––his mind preoccupied with the looming threat of Jake's bet. Not that it was threatening in any way, per say, but Jay just hates losing. And from the looks of things, it's safe to say that Jay won't be celebrating any victories anytime soon.

Jay thinks he should just change his identity and just transfer to some boarding school in Switzerland. Yes, that's a much better solution than admitting defeat to Jake.

Jay sighs as he lies his head on the table, figuring he might as well just write the check for Jake's textbooks now. He wonders how he got here in the first place. Not how he got into the bet, and definitely not how he's sitting in the middle of the library, having yet to start his calculus homework due at 11:59PM tonight (he should really start that).

But no, he wonders how he gained the reputation as the campus' playboy. To be fair, his friends (mainly Jake), are constantly reminding him of his notorious habits. But how did they come a habit in the first place?

The idea of being in a relationship is nice, sure, but the commitment that comes with it? The idea of being dependent on someone? It's scary, vulnerable, and one that Jay can't picture for himself.

Maybe some people just aren't meant to be paired. Maybe some people, like Jay, like being independent and are meant to stay that way.

But Jay also likes affection. He likes the fleeting, warm feeling he gets every time he finds himself under someone's sheets. He likes the short-lived comfort he receives from someone else's touch, even though he knows it's going to cease to exist the second he steps out of those bedroom's doors. He just likes affection, simple as that.

That and he's a 19 year old teenage boy with needs, what did you expect?

And so what if he likes the idea of affection minus commitment? Is that so bad? Apparently it is, to people like his friends and the entirety of his school's campus, at least.

At this rate, he might as well pay someone to date him.

Wait. Jay lifts his head off the table's surface in realization.

He might as well pay someone to date him.

There's no harm in that, is there?

He wouldn't have to endure through an endless amount of dates to find someone he clicks with, then continue going on dates with said clicked person, all while trying to develop an actual, serious relationship.

He'll win the bet, get his physics homework done for an entire semester, and some lucky girl out there will be making profit for the small price of hanging out with Jay Park for three months.

And lucky for him, Jay knows the perfect candidate for this scheme.

Simple as that.

Just as long as said perfect candidate says yes.

And as long as Jake and Sunghoon don't find out. Or else Jay might really have to move to Switzerland after all.

You love your friends, you do.

Hana and Heeseung have been there for you when others haven't––they were by your side when you knew no one entering high school, and they were still by your side when you were all graduating said high school. Needless to say, you're eternally grateful for friends like them.

But right now, in this moment––with you seated in the middle of the campus' library, trying to write your essay, as your two friends blabber on and on about the most recent gossip across from you––your two friends could be your villain origin story.

But again, you love your friends, you do. So you don't have the heart to tell them to leave. You've managed to naturally tune out most of the conversation, anyways, for this––your friends coming to hang out while you're trying to study––is no rare occurrence by any means.

"Oh yeah, Jay Park texted me last night."

You hate how your brain's filter suddenly turns off at Hana's words.

You hate how your ears catch the sudden mention of Jay Park's name.

You hate how the thought of Jay Park gets to even occupy a single brain cell of yours.

You hate how you even know who Jay Park is. Well, knew.

Past tense. Because up until eighth grade––when Jay decided to just suddenly pretend you didn't exist––he was attached to you like a koala to a eucalyptus tree.

And if you had asked past Y/N, ideally, Jay would've never left your side. Ideally, he would've never left you to fend for yourself when entering high school. Ideally, he would've stayed your best friend through out all four years of high school and ideally, you would've eventually told him how you really felt about him after growing up with him all your life. And maybe it would've lead to a completely different story. But for the sake of this fic, we don't live in an ideal world.

So yes, if it wasn't for his attendance at the very same university as you, you would've forgotten about the boy who brought you the painful memories of your childhood.

And since the universe clearly doesn't work in your favor, avoiding Jay Park's existence like he's the plague would have to suffice. And it works.

For the most part.

Until some people, bring him up uninvited into your conversation. Like now, for example.

"When was the last time you guys talked anyways?" Heeseung mindlessly asks as he reaches across the table to grab one of the many snacks you usually bring to your study sessions.

"Uh..like a few weeks ago. Give or take. Whenever you threw your house party. Can't say there was much talking involved however," she teasingly says with a giggle and wiggle of her brows.

Heeseung's rolling his eyes as you scoff and chuck a nearby crumpled piece of paper that was once one of your many essay drafts at her.

She bats it away right as it's about to hit her face as she laughs. "Doesn't matter anyways. He ghosted me the next morning, as he does with everyone else. Telling you this now," she extends a finger right at you, "stay away from Jay Park. That kid's just bad news."

You nod in response, mentally telling her she has nothing to worry about.

Been there, done that.

College. Ah yes, the very concept of spending four years of your life imprisoned on a campus where you'll be tearing your hair out from stress and spending all your life's savings just for a laminated sheet of paper with a golden stamp at the end of it all. We live in a society.

Because of said college, and all the weight that comes along with it, you had adapted a strict daily schedule in order to not completely lose your mind. It's a simple schedule really, one of a typical college student who's just trying to get by everyday with as little mental breakdowns as possible.

Wake up, get ready, go to class, go to the library to do your homework, walk all the way across campus to get back to your dorm, shower, then sleep. Oh and eat, of course. And maybe if time permits, be an actual social being and socialize.

It's gotten you this far into the college life without dropping out so, you conclude, you must be doing something right.

Sometimes, if you're feeling nice to yourself, you'll tweak the schedule a bit to fit in some exceptions. Maybe squeeze in a little trip to the bubble tea shop that's on the other side of campus, or maybe get dinner at that one dining hall that you don't usually go to because of the unncessarily long lines (but because they serve ice cream, you go anyways). It doesn't matter what the exception is, you still plan it out to fit into your schedule somehow. Everything is planned out.

Sometimes, however, the universe disagrees with your schedule, to your demise. Such as today, for example.

Because what you didn't expect for today was for a particular blonde-haired boy who you haven't spoken to in almost six years (but who's counting?) to approach your table in the library––a table you were sure no one could find you at, as it was quietly tucked away in the back corner, right next to the Astrophysics shelves. Because who browses the Astrophysics aisle for fun? Actually, maybe Jake Sim would. Anyways.

You definitely didn't anticipate a visit from the boy you've been actively avoiding, so you definitely didn't expect the first words coming out of his mouth when he sees you for the first time in six years to be:

"Fake date me."

You blink up at him.

Yeah, definitely not expected.

But you only let it phase you for a split second, until you feel a slight annoyance beginning to bubble up deep inside of you.

"Wow, hello to you too Jay! It's been what––half a decade? Yeah I've been pretty good, thanks for asking!" The sarcasm is practically dripping off your tongue.

You don't know what runs through Jay's mind, but apparently it isn't common sense––or the ability to read the room. Because next thing you know, he's sliding the chair across from you out from underneath the table and making himself at home.

And he's smiling right at you.

Curse him and his smile.

But no, you're not giving into it.

Not yet, at least.

"What do you want?" You deadpan at him when he makes no sign of making the next move.

"A girlfriend," he deadpans right back at you, as if he was casually telling you what he wanted for dinner. As if you two were close-knit friends that could approach one another without any proper greeting. As if you two had kept your friendship all these years. As if you two even had a role in each other's lives.

"Can't help you there," you scoff, deciding to not even question his lack of manners on top of his uninvited presence.

"Aren't you gonna ask me why?"

"Well gee, seeing that the first few words you decided to say to my face for the first time in forever were a demand, a demand to date you no less, then....no," your monotone voice says as you keep your eyes focused on your laptop screen, not daring to look at the boy across from you.

In the Introduction to Sociology course you took your freshmen year, you had learned of one important term: interactional vandalism. Textbook definition being: "ignoring signals of disinterest in a conversation, leading it to an offense."

Your definition being: "are you oblivious or just plan dumb, read the room!"

This was interactional vandalism, alright. Whether Jay's truly oblivious or just trying to annoy you until your head explodes (it's really the former, but you're convinced it's the latter), he takes your signals of disinterest and tosses it right out of his head to continue the conversation.

"I'm stuck in this stupid bet with Jake--do you remember him? He bet me that I couldn't date someone for more than three months and I figured having someone fake date me would be easier than actually dating someone, right? That's where you come into the equation," he proposes as he leans back in his chair, as if he had just finished a sales pitch to a prospective customer looking to buy a car.

You couldn't believe this. You're 98% sure this has got to be a prank. You're mentally preparing for a camera crew to jump out from in-between the library's aisles any moment now and scream into your ears that you've just been punk'd!

The remaining 2% of you, however, wouldn't put it past the two boys to get themselves in such a situation. The last memory you had of Jay and his friends were pretty much their childish selves back in middle school. And by looking at the current scene unfolding in front of you...it's needless to say they haven't changed much.

"Again, can't help you there. Ask one of the many girlfriends I thought you had." Ouch.

"But Y/N, you've known me all your life--"

"Up until you dropped me a few years ago but sure, let's call it that."

"--and convincing other people is gonna make me look--"

"--desperate? Yeah."

"C'mon, Y/N. What do you have to lose anyways?"

"Uh..my dignity? Pride? Self-respect? Sorry Jay, not happening," you turn your attention back to your unwritten essay in front of you, mentally checking out of this conversation. This would be a good time for that camera crew to jump out now.

"Look, no one else is gonna do it, Y/N." Jay has always been stubborn, you suppose. But so are you.

"Yeah, because you've managed to push every being of the opposite gender away from you. You gave yourself this reputation in the first place," you give it to him straight. It's not like you had a relationship with him to uphold anyways––Jay himself broke that friendship years ago.

Jay hates that you're right.

You're always right. He remembers how he used to always go to you for advice and clarity on the world's biggest problems. Granted, the world's biggest problems to him at the time equated to what he should dress up as for the fifth grade Halloween party, but still. A tough decision, for the mind of a ten-year-old.

You abruptly stop typing and begin putting your laptop and textbooks away as you huff in frustration. There's no point in trying to get your work done now. The longer you stay arguing with Jay, the bigger your headache gets. The longer he continues to occupy any part of your brain, the bigger your headache gets.

Getting up from your seat, packed and ready to slam your head into your pillow, you turn to the blonde one last time.

"Look Jay. We went on our separate ways years ago. If you weren't so notoriously known around campus and my friends would stop talking about you, I would've long forgotten you. I'm sorry you're in this situation, really. If I were you, I'd just tell Jake I can't do it. Or don't, I can't tell you what to do. Just don't get some innocent girl involved in whatever stunt of yours this is."

Jay stares at you, mouth agape, as you find your way out of the library and through the main doors. By the time he comes back to his senses, he realizes how he looks plain stupid––standing in the middle of the library, the look on his face screaming befuddlement, to say the least. Jay quickly makes his way out of the building, in hopes of convincing you one last time.

Jay catches sight of your figure already half-way down the walkway that connects the library to the main quad of your school's campus. Geez, you walk fast.

Not fast enough to outrun Jay's legs, however. If Jay running after you through the middle of campus in order to convince you to fake date him doesn't show how desperate he is to win this bet, I don't know what will.

"Wait, Y/N!"

You groan to yourself before turning to face the boy who can't seem to take a hint and leave you alone. You stare at his out-of-breath state as he heaves up and down from the slight jog he had to endure to get to where you are. If you're humored by him chasing after you, you do a good job of hiding it.

He meets your unimpressed state before stating his final proposition: "I'll pay you. Five hundred dollars."

You nearly stop breathing.

Now this catches your attention––after all, you're but a broke college student who's just trying to survive. And preferably not by feeding yourself instant ramen cups every night.

And so, naturally, you begin rethinking about the opportunity presented in front of you. You narrow your eyes at the boy as you weigh your options.

The first problem being, it's Jay Park––the bane of your very existence. You spent the last few years of your life pretending he didn't exist...for good reason. Not only did he do you dirty when you were merely a couple of 13-year-olds, but you just didn't want to be involved with someone like him. Someone known for his nature, someone who left your own current best friend ghosted. And not that Hana herself would care, for she has called herself the "female Jay Park", but you're sure this would be breaking some rule in the girl code handbook. Plus, if you agree to this, you'd be betraying 13-year-old Y/N, the one who decided to never speak to nor think of Jay Park again––which by now you've failed, but you get the gist.

Second problem being, three months is a long time. Three months is practically the rest of this semester, and did you really want to spend the rest of the semester tied down to the label of being Jay Park's girlfriend? There would have to be some negative connotations that came along with that title, right? No offense to Jay, but being his first girlfriend since, what, high school could make you come off as..naive, for lack of a better term. As if the only person you could settle for was Jay Park. As if you barely had any standards for yourself. Again, no offense to Jay.

Needless to say, if your school's debate club had to argue on why you shouldn't be doing this, you're sure the negating side could win with these two reasons alone.

But before you're rejecting the boy currently standing in front of you one last time, you find yourself mentally listing rebuttals.

First of all, you'd be getting paid. And again, you're merely but a college student living the stereotypical broke college student life––burdened by the costs of tuition, textbooks, and midnight McDonalds runs for when you're out of aforementioned instant ramen cups. Five hundred dollars could provide you with more than enough chicken McNuggets to last you the semester, and maybe some more to treat yourself to an online shopping spree.

Second of all, it's not like you were going to do anything better with your next three months anyways. It's safe to say you were too busy being a diligent student to actually look for anyone to date, per say. And if anything, having a fake boyfriend might actually be helpful in your case. Your mom would be off your ass about how you're still single, for one. And two, your friends (though it's really just Heeseung) would stop trying to hook you up on blind dates with guys that you would choose Jay Park over any day (and that really says something).

Third of all, it's Jay Park. As much as you despise the kid, you still know him. He's not a complete stranger to you, no matter how much you try to deny it. It could be worse, it could be a complete rando asking you to date him. At least you two have some sort of history, which would take care of the typical small talk and getting to know each other bit of this equation. And truth be told, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you weren't a tad bit satisfied by the fact that Jay chose you, of all people, to pull off this stunt with him. You don't know if it's the nostalgia of your childhood memories rushing back to you, but it reminds you of the endless schemes you two used to plan behind your parents' backs all the time. Granted, your childhood schemes––such as the both of you faking sickness so you could skip school together––don't even fall close to being in a fake relationship with one another, but still. It's the thought that counts.

All of those reasons plus, Jay isn't the worst to look at. He may have a spoiled reputation, but at least he has his looks going for him, you'll give him that (you're still secretly wondering when and how did he get his glow up, but don't tell him that).

And so by the guidelines of a college student's logic that states the pros outweigh the cons, you come to the overarching conclusion that maybe, this won't be so awful after all.

"Five hundred?" You ask, just for clarification. Jay's immediately nodding at your words. You continue to ponder on your thoughts as he stares at you hopefully.

The silent atmosphere of your campus heightens the tension so much, you swear you're in one of those overdramatic pausing scenes that occur too many times in k-dramas.

You sigh, then nod.

"Okay," you're internally praying that you won't regret this decision. "I'm in."

The next time you see Jay is at 12:17PM on a Friday afternoon, as you're exiting the doors of the lecture building that's home to your awfully long Capitalism in the Western World class.

You're going down the steps of the building, mentally deciding where and what you're going to treat yourself to for lunch––as the three hour lecture you had just attended drained all the life and energy out of you––when you hear the slight call of your name.

Turning to the source, you're met with a waving Jay, leaning against the passenger's side of his car, parked in front of the lecture hall building you were currently leaving.

Great.

You walk over to where he's casually waiting––he's unaware of all the stares he's attracted from fellow students leaving the same lecture as you. Can you blame them? It's not everyday you see a sleek, black BMW that probably cost more than your tuition pull up in front of your Friday afternoon lecture. It's not everyday you see Jay Park waiting for anyone outside of his said sleek, black BMW that probably cost more than your tuition.

"Hi," you simply let out as you plant yourself in front of him, not sure whether or not to question him why are you here? Surely, he wasn't waiting for you?

"Hi," he smiles down at you. There's a beat of silence. "I was waiting for you."

Bingo.

"Oh. What are you, my chauffeur?" You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"Maybe. I am your boyfriend, after all," he says into the air, loud and clear, as if he wanted people to hear. Well that is the point, you suppose.

But still, all you want to do is smack the smirk right off his face.

Before you have time to put your next question into words, he answers it for you.

"I'm taking you out for lunch," he declares as if you have nothing else planned for the day. Well, to be fair, you didn't have anything else planned for the day. Except for your usual library run. But you figure the library could wait.

"Oh, like on a date?" You raise your eyebrows teasingly at him as you get into the car, Jay holding the door wide open for you. "Is Jay Park treating me to lunch as a date?"

Jay fights the scowl (or is that a smile?) growing on his face as he bends down to meet your eye level from inside the car. "Don't flatter yourself, princess. We've got fake lives to live."

"Call me princess one more time and you won't have a real life to live," you flash him a sarcastic smile and slam the door in his face.

Jay meets his own shocked reflection on the passenger's side window.

Cute.

"When you said you were taking me out to lunch, I expected like...I don't know...the diner on campus. Not whatever this is," you mutter to Jay as the two of you are brought to your table by a waitress at an upscale sushi restaurant, one that is undoubtedly out of your usual budget, but for sure an upgrade from your dining hall's pizza you were planning to have. You should've figured as much, the drive here was a little more than out of the way from campus, and who are you kidding, it's Jay Park you're eating with.

You stare down at your current outfit, which consisted of a hoodie you've owned since your junior year of high school and leggings that you threw on without second thought this morning––because you didn't exactly wake up and decide I'm going to go to a fancy sushi bar for lunch today!

"Why are we here anyways?" You ask him when you're both settled in your seats and the waitress walks away after listing the chef's specials for the day.

"Oh, they have killer dragon rolls here, you have to try it," Jay tells you nonchalantly as his eyes rake the menu in front of him, blocking your view of him.

How dense can one be? Your hand snatches his menu as you stare into his unamused eyes.

"No, Jay. I mean, why are we here? It's not like anyone's around to see us put on a show anyways."

"Oh. I figured," Jay's quick to grab the menu back from out of your hands as he continues, "that we should sit down and establish how exactly we're going to deliver this performance. After all, you're stuck with me for the next three months."

Again, smacking the smirk currently resting on his face would satisfy you beyond relief. Just once.

"If I drop out halfway through, do I still get $250?" You tease, leaning back.

"Ha ha. Funny. No," he narrows his eyes at you from across the table. "It's all or nothing."

You dramatically huff to make a show just for his annoyance.

"Worth a try. But sure, let's solidify this. What's the game plan?" You sit up in your seat, leaning over the table as if the two of you were hosting a secret meeting.

"It's simple really," Jay mirrors your actions, face leaning in close to where yours is hovering over the table. "Just pretend to be deeply in love with me for three months, and try not to actually be charmed by my cunning looks."

If someone gave you five dollars for every time you've already rolled your eyes at him today, you wouldn't even need to be in this deal for the five hundred dollars.

"Wow, smooth. Can I just remind you you're the one paying a girl to be in a fake relationship with you because you're just not competent enough to find an actual girlfriend?" You lean back, arms crossing over your figure.

Jay, unfazed, laughs, tongue briefly hitting the inside of his cheek. "Touché."

Your eyes go back to the menu in front of you as a silence falls over the table. Because you're not a loaded trust fund baby who comes to fancy five-star sushi restaurants for lunch on a daily, you don't recognize half of the entree names on the menu. You spot the dragon roll Jay suggested, but seeing that a basic California roll is less expensive, your natural broke-college-student-instincts figure the California roll shall do.

"Okay, in all seriousness," Jay begins as he puts his menu down. "It's simple really. We'll just go on weekly dates and post cute pictures of each other once in a while and a little after three months, I'll just say it didn't work out. I'll give you the five hundo and boom, we move on with our lives."

It's clear Jay's put some thought into this. Safe to say he's put more effort planning this out than the amount of work he's been putting into his classes. Someone's got their priorities straight.

You're impressed to say the least––you figured Jay would just be the kind to go with the flow and wait for the situation to unfold on its own and maybe blow up into flames. But seeing as he was just as serious about winning this bet as you were with making five hundred dollars, your doubts about this entire situation were slowly withering away.

Don't get it wrong, though, you still despise him. To an extent, at least.

"And don't worry about the dates. I'll pay on your behalf, as the loving, doting boyfriend I am," Jay finishes with a wide, cheesy smile you can't help but return a growing smile back at.

"Well then, as the loving, doting girlfriend I am, I shall gift you coffee, breakfast, all that fun couple stuff, whenever you please. Or maybe unannounced, if I'm feeling nice," you figure you should pitch in as much if he's paying for all your dates. And deep down, you find the idea kinda cute. But don't tell anyone that.

"Wow, look at us. We should become Dispatch's couple of the year already!" Jay exclaims, earning himself a small giggle from you, which pleases him to say the least. He thinks that maybe when this is all over, he'll hopefully make a good friend (well, for the second time) out of it.

And you're thinking that maybe the next three months won't be as bad as you initially had thought.

As the two of you delve deep into a debate about who would be the better significant other to each other, the waitress comes over to take your orders.

And because you're laughing and Jay's brightly smiling at you from across the table, you order the dragon roll.

The second time Jay takes you out––this time he gives you a heads up to get ready––it's at a, once again, high-class steakhouse.

The third time, you insist on the on-campus diner that's popular amongst the student population. Partially because you feel bad for the amount of money he's spent on you (even though he couldn't care less), but mostly because if you have to put on another fancy dress to just eat an overpriced meal that doesn't even fully satisfy your hunger, you might lose your mind.

And by this third time, Jake is aware of this newly blossomed relationship.

"Three dates! I didn't know you had it in you, going on three dates with the same girl!" Jake excitedly exclaims as he jumps into the empty spot on Jay's dorm bed and shoves his phone's screen into Jay's face.

The smaller screen displays Jay's most recent Instagram post: an image of you sitting behind your too-small-to-be-this-expensive-steak and smiling right into Jay's camera––a memory that brings a smile to his face:

~ ~ ~

"C'mon! We said Instagram posts would be a part of the deal! How else can we convince people we're dating?" A pout rests on Jay's face as he stares at you from across the table in the middle of the extravagantly decorated restaurant he picked out for your second date. You remember your eyes bulging out of their own sockets when you saw the "$$$$$" rating Yelp gave the place when you searched it up earlier.

"Okay, okay! One picture," you give in, already slightly annoyed that you were here instead of the comfort of your own bed, where you could be rewatching your favorite Netflix show for the third time. But because you made a deal and because you're desperate for money, you had to follow through––so here you were.

You flash an unconvincing smile to Jay's camera, which doesn't satisfy him, to say the least. "At least pretend you're somewhat enjoying this date," he frowns at you.

You sigh, until a thought crosses your mind and a smile grows on your face. "Only if you get me boba afterwards."

He narrows his eyes at you, but then meets your smile. "Sure, whatever you want. But only because I've been craving some mango milk tea lately."

"You're a fruit milk tea kind of guy? Sorry, but I might have to fake break-up with you," you tease as you take a sip of your overpriced drink to go with your overpriced meal.

Jay scoffs, feigning hurt by placing his hand over his heart. "Ouch. But before you break up with me, let me get this Instagram post in."

"Wow. Your priorities are so straight," you roll your eyes at him, eliciting a cheeky smile from him as he watches you through his held up phone screen.

"3,2,1."

"Hey, I wasn't ready! That was like mid-laugh!" You reach over the table to grab the phone, but not quick enough for him to put his phone back into his pants' pocket.

"Nope, nuh uh," he laughs as you quickly sit back down into your seat, not wanting to cause a scene in an establishment as proper as this one.

"It's fine. It's a good picture, you look cute," he casually lets out, unaware of the blush rising to the surface of your cheeks, thanks to the fact that you were suddenly interested in playing with the left-over food on your plate.

"Jay! Delete it, I'll let you take another one," you whine from your seat, imagining just how bad a candid picture of you could be.

"Ugh, fine. Ever so picky." He playfully rolls his eyes at you as he takes his phone out and opens the camera app as you prepare yourself.

"Okay, how's this?" Jay turns the phone screen to you after he takes a few snaps on his phone.

"I approve," you grin at him as he goes through the pictures himself, unaware of the smile growing on his face.

"Okay now delete the first one," you point your finger at him, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Okay, okay! Bossy," he laughs as he raises in hands in surrender.

When Jay gets home that night, he recovers the image from his Recently Deleted folder, telling himself it's for the sake of the memory.

Obviously.

~ ~ ~

"It's not that big of a deal," Jay mutters from his spot as his eyes go from the Instagram post to his Exile and Belonging in Modern Literature reading that's due tomorrow, bright yellow highlighter in hand. Typically, you'd find the reading buried deep at the bottom of his school backpack. But because Jay ran into you this morning and because he complained to you about the amount of work he's fallen behind on and because you had threatened him to do his work or else you're not going on another date––a fake date that is––with him, he figured he should at least get one reading done and annotated, despite his strong dislike for highlighters (they hurt his eyes, okay?)

What he doesn't know, however, is how your threat was completely full of bluff––but don't tell him that.

"It is so a big deal, for you at least!" Jake hops off the bed and lands on the wooden floors of Jay's dorm room so hard, Jay winces and sends a mental apology to the poor person who lives below him.

Jake suddenly gasps. "I have to meet her, Jay! As your best friend, it's practically mandatory that I meet her."

Jay opens his mouth to protest, but not before Jake interrupts him once again. "Oh! We can bring Sunghoon too, it'll be so fun! The best friends meet the girlfriend."

Jay can't think of anything worst. Jay imagines that bringing you to meet his best friends would just intimidate you out of dating him––fake dating him, that is. Obviously.

He stares at his friend in agony then back at the reading in front of him––the one Jake said he'd come over to help annotate, but the intention completely left Jake's head the second he heard about Jay's recent dating life.

"You don't have to meet her," Jay says pointedly. "Plus, you already know her."

Jake frowns at his friend's excuse. "Yeah, but that was in middle school! This is different."

Jay's hands shuffle through the reading's pages in front of him as he realizes there's no way the two of them are going to finish the assignment at this point. He supposes he'll have to save death by blindness from highlighters for another day and hope you still agree to go out with him.

Jake suddenly gasps in realization.

"Oh my gosh! Childhood best friends turned college sweethearts," Jake says so dreamily, he might as well plaster heart eyes on. Hopeless romantic, this one.

Before Jay can argue, the piercing sound of three loud knocks echo through the small room, followed with a:

"Jay, are you in? It's me!"

Jay stills at the sound of your sweet voice. He whips his head to Jake, who is also frozen in place.

But the widened-eye boy is quick to come to his senses––unfortunately quicker than Jay himself––because the next thing Jay knows, Jake's eyes are lighting up and he's running to the door, ignoring Jay's screaming whispers through this seething teeth that were somewhere along the lines of Jake––stop, I swear to god if you open that door I'm gonna fucking--

"Y/N!" Jake swings the door wide open, revealing an overly excited him and a frozen Jay half-way to the door, as if he was about to grab the very boy welcoming you in. It's as if we're living in a Sims game and the player clicked pause on this very moment.

Jake's eyes are wildly going back and forth between you and your supposed boyfriend, as if he was waiting for Jay to run over and smother you in hugs and kisses...or something couple-y like that. Jay wouldn't know.

"Uh––hi," you're awkwardly standing inside the room now, a relatively large paper brown bag resting in your palms as you look around for a surface to place it on. Jay makes his way to you without a second thought, quickly taking the bag out of your hold.

"You seemed stressed out earlier, so I figured I could bring you some food as a little pick me up. I didn't know what you liked, so I kinda just got a little of everything from the dining hall. Nothing fancy," you're rambling, but smiling so excitedly at him, Jay doesn't know what to say.

Instead, his mouth slightly drops open as he stares at you in awe, mostly because he's not used to being on the receiving end of such spontaneously generous actions��–all while Jake's still excitedly looking back and forth between the two of you, as if he was expecting a marriage proposal to come next.

"Oh wow. Thank you. Really," Jay, still touched by your simple act of kindness, softly says as he places the bag on the limited amount of empty space on his desk surface––the rest of it is covered with his untouched textbooks and unfinished assignments. He wonders if you did this out of playing your role or just because you wanted to. He internally hopes it's the latter. "Seriously, you didn't have to do."

"Nah, don't worry. I wanted to," you shrug with such a genuine smile that Jay realizes he actually missed your smile.

Despite having seen you during your brief run-in this morning when you were fetching your morning coffee, Jay realizes he missed you. The two of you haven't been seeing each other recently because of your busy schedule and if Jay didn't realize it before, he's now sure he missed your company and presence around.

Weird.

"Well, you two have fun! Sunghoon needs me for something," Jake suddenly chirps from his place near the front door, halfway through with putting his shoes on already, breaking the comforting silence that fell between the two of you.

Jay frowns. "But you said you were free all da––"

"SUNGHOON IS CALLING BYE!" And before Jay can even register what's happening, Jake's out the door without another word.

"Er..sorry about him, he's...weird," Jay scratches the back of his neck as he returns to his spot on his bed, mentally setting a reminder to yell at Jake later for leaving the two of you alone. Jay doesn't know exactly why, but he's nervous at the fact that you're here in his room. It's not like you two are complete strangers––or whatever you guys were before––anymore. "Good job on your part, though. How'd you know Jake was here?"

"Oh uh, I didn't"," you let out an awkward laugh. "I just felt like doing it."

Heat rushes to Jay's cheeks and he's not sure 1) what this newfound feeling is and 2) how to respond, yet again.

Having expecting you to leave after dropping the food off, Jay's taken by surprise when you take your shoes off and come over to his bed to look at the pile of work he's spread out.

"Is this everything you have to do?" You question the stressed-out boy as you flip through the various assignments, readings, and essays he put off in the past week.

"More or less," he groans. This is no rare occurrence by any means––Jay being behind in his work––but this time, Jay realizes he may actually be in deep shit, considering he has no idea where to begin.

Right as Jay's expecting a scolding from you, he looks up to meet a look of sympathy on your face. "Well, I mean, I'm pretty much done with my day. I can try to help, I recognize some of these readings from last semester."

Jay thinks to himself that the universe has sent him an angel through the form of you.

"Really? Wow, you were't kidding when you said you'd be a good girlfriend," he sends you a surprised look.

"I'm just being nice, Jay. A concept I'm sure you're not familiar with," you remark back at him, causing his forming smile to grow into a laugh.

"I can too be nice! Need I remind you of who's paying you $500, covering all of our dates AND giving you rides to class everyday?" He remarks pointedly at you, a teasing look resting in his eyes as you're reminded of the first of many times he's come to pick you up before class:

~ ~ ~

You're late.

This never happens.

But then again, your life's been a series of unexpected occurrences lately. Such as the fact that you're currently known as Jay Park's girlfriend, for one.

You're scrambling out of bed once you take one look at your phone and realize shit, you're already late for class. Throwing on whatever articles of clothing your eyes land on first, you're already mentally groaning at the fact that you'll have to skip breakfast and run across your campus to get to said class.

Curse your professor for hosting her lecture at the furthest possible building away from your dorm. Curse the architect who decided to make your campus so large.

You're running down the steps outside of your dorm building's doors when you're abruptly stopped by a familiar sounding cough. You look up from trying to gather all your belongings together at once to meet the gaze of the source of the sound––Jay.

"Wow, you're a mess," he smirks as he gets up from the spot on his car he was leaning against to make his way over to you.

"Gee, thanks! Good morning to you too," you flash him a sarcastic smile before your default frown quickly makes it way back onto your face.

"Aren't you gonna ask me why I'm here?" He grins as he grabs hold of your backpack to sling it across his own back as the two of you walk towards his car.

"Why are you here, Jay?" you sigh, your sarcastic tone hard to miss.

"To give you a ride to class, of course!" He's beaming at you, as if he's a pre-pubescent teen who just won their first girlfriend a prize from the arcade's claw machine.

Oh. That explains the car, you figure. Deep down inside, you're relieved that you'll no longer be bursting through the lecture hall's doors as a sweaty mess––a result of having to run across campus to get to class.

Determined to not let your satisfaction completely show, you resort with a little smile directed towards Jay as he opens the passenger door for you.

The second your enter Jay's car, the strong scent of coffee hits you, and your attention is targeted at the two small cups of coffee sitting in the cupholders of the car.

"Breakfast?" Jay asks as he enters through the driver's side and reaches into the backseat to whip out a small pastry bag. A small, deliciously smelling, pastry bag.

Okay, well. You suppose you could drop the annoyed act now.

Your eyes widen with joy as you grab the bag from him and open it to reveal your favorite breakfast sandwich. He's been taking notes, you'll give him that point.

"Okay, you win. Thank you," you grace him with a soft smile before taking a bite into the glorious gift in your hands.

"Of course, I was just feeling nice," he grins at you as he starts his car. "But don't get used to it." His tone is serious, but his smile directed towards you says differently.

And the fact that he still showed up to drive you to class the next morning.

And the next.

~ ~ ~

"And need I remind you who has to date your dumb ass for the $500 in question?" Your eyes narrow at the boy who can't seem to get that damn smile off his face.

Jay sticks his tongue out at you, ending the conversation. Really Jay? What are you, five? Well, mentally––probably.

You're looking around his minuscule dorm room for a place to sit down, and Jay can't help but feel embarrassed now that you're here, in his messy single studio room that pretty much reflects how Jay treats every other responsibility of his oh so hard life: neglected.

"Uh...here, you can sit on my bed," Jay immediately offers as he moves to the side to make room for your presence––and it isn't much, considering the university only provided him a twin XL bed which is definitely not built for two grown college-aged kids.

If you told yourself a few weeks ago that you'd be shoulder to shoulder on a bed belonging to the guy you cringed at the very thought of, you wouldn't have believed yourself. You wouldn't have believed yourself if you said you were actually glad Jay let you stay instead of kicking you out after delivering the food. Huh.

Weird.

"You know, this kinda reminds me of when we were kids. I always carried us through those horrible multiplication tests in the fifth grade," you wink at him as you settle in the spot next to him, hands grabbing hold of the papers in his lap.

Jay let out a laugh, nudging your shoulder with his. "Hey! The twelve times table is hard, okay?"

You roll your eyes at him––a habit of yours he's noticed whenever the two of you are together, but more recently, he thinks it's been more out of fun than annoyance.

He wonders why.

When Jay had first brought up the idea of bringing you as his date to his father's company dinner, you had expected a fairly fancy five-star restaurant with a formal dress code––for you've become accustomed to Jay's lifestyle. Turns out, your expectations can continue to be exceeded. Because what you had expected to be a simple dinner with a few other business men and women turned out to be an entire party, hosted in a hotel whose interior resembled something close to a castle (Or what you assume a castle looks like, as you've never personally been into a castle yourself, but this hotel is close enough).

Your eyes sparkle at the extravagant columns and diamond chandeliers hanging high above you, and Jay smiles at the expression on your face; like a little girl being brought to the amusement park for the first time ever.

"Wow, this is...wow," you mutter as you drink in the scene in front of you: people dressed in formal attire likewise to yours and Jay's, mingling and drinking what you imagine to be beverages that cost more than your entire life's worth.

Jay laughs from behind you, "Yeah the company goes a little...extra when it comes to these company dinners."

You scoff as you look up at him. "Oh really, you don't say?" You look around and you're suddenly aware of the many people surrounding the two of you and the attention you've acquired ever since entering the building.

"Jay, people are staring." You shuffle closer to him, your voice lowering down to a whisper.

"Well, it's not everyday the son of the company's CEO brings his girlfriend with him, so...looks like we'll be the talk of the party tonight. Smiles on," he winks at you, and you just know he's loving the attention the two of you are receiving right now.

"Jay Park? Is that you?" You hear a warm voice call out from behind the two of you.

The two of you turn around to meet the owner of the voice, a middle-aged woman dressed in an evening gown that matches the pattern of high-end brands you've been recognizing ever since arriving.

"Mrs. Lee! It's so nice seeing you again," Jay cheerily addresses the woman as the two of you bow in greeting.

You internally giggle at the thought of your Jay being so picture-perfect in the eyes of his father's co-workers.

"This is Y/N," he continues, his hand finding its way to your back, protectively resting it there as you go to introduce yourself. "My girlfriend."

You swear you feel goosebumps rise from where he's lightly touching you, and more so when he introduces you as his girlfriend.

You tell yourself it's just your nerves. Yes, that's it, you're just nervous. I mean, you're in a room filled with people who could easily pay off all your college loans with just a snap of their fingers, who wouldn't be nervous? Right? Right.

"Y/N! It's a pleasure to finally meet you, I've heard so much about you!" Mrs. Lee excitedly exclaims as you turn to Jay with a slightly confused look plastered on your face. He mirrors your expression as he shrugs, moving to stand behind you completely, bringing his hands to rest lowly at your hips.

His hands feel like feathers on the thin fabric of your evening gown, so light, so delicate, as if he's unsure if he's crossing a line. It leaves you wanting more, wanting to naturally lean against him and his warmth. You quick to shake the thought of your head as Mrs. Lee chirps up again.

"Jay's father is always talking about how you've been keeping Jay pleasantly busy nowadays! Good thing too, about time this poor boy settle down for someone as beautiful as you," the woman rambles on as you feel a blush creep up on your cheeks at the thought of Jay talking about you to his dad. If only they knew.

"We should probably go find our seats, I think the dinner is beginning soon," Jay says from behind you, saving the two of you from having to listen to Mrs. Lee's story of how she's known Jay ever since he was five years old and seeing him grow into this mature, loving, young man is so amazing. Oh look! I have baby pictures.

Yeah, he was more so saving himself from embarrassment.

The two of you bid your goodbyes before Jay gently uses the hand on your back to maneuver you through the crowd of socializing business moguls.

"She's not wrong, you know," you feel Jay dip his head so he's speaking near your ear, his warm breath tickling your earlobe, as the two of you make your way through the large foyer room.

"Hm?" You hum in question, turning your head up just enough to be able to make eye contact with him as he responds to your look of confusion.

"You look beautiful tonight," he says, eye contact not breaking once. You freeze in your steps.

You stare back at him in silence. Oh.

Your mind is panicking as it flips through your mental book of responses, unsure of what to say back. But because your mind is cloudy from staring at a put-together Jay in a dark navy suit to match your dress (mixed with the nervous butterflies in your stomach––have they always been there?), the only sound that's able to leave your lips is the small stutter of a:

"Huh?"

Wow Y/N, you had one job. A simple "thank you" could've sufficed! And you went with "Huh"?

You felt like a fifth grader who just learned from a friend of a friend of a friend that their crush likes them back.

"U-um. Mrs. Lee. What she said about you. You look good, really," somehow your nervousness made its way over to Jay now––his eyes flickering from yours to anywhere, anything, else in the room––the awkward tension growing tenfold each second.

Goddamnit Y/N, this is just Jay you're talking to, get a grip.

You're knocked back into reality when he slightly nudges your back to continue making your way to the main ball room, where the dinner is being held.

"Is that a compliment from the Jay Park?" Your smirk can't be seen by Jay, since he's still trailing behind you, but he can definitely hear it through your tone.

"Don't make me take it back," he chuckles, his words felt against your neck, leaving behind a tingly sensation you're not sure why you're feeling. You're glad he's behind you, so he isn't able to see the blush creeping onto your face for the second time tonight.

Jay gives a small nod to the people behind the check-in desk stationed at the entrance as the two of you waltz right into a large ball room lined with countless circular dining tables. So much for a small business dinner.

As the two of you approach one of the tables placed at the front of the room, you notice a familiar figure seated next to the seats reserved for you and Jay.

"Y/N!" Jake exclaims as he gets up from his seat to greet the both of you. "I'm so glad you made it, Jay was so excited to bring you tonight. Deadass would not stop talking about it."

Jay lets out a noise that falls somewhere between a cough and a goose being strangled, his widened eyes warning his talkative friend to just shut up. He's silently cursing the company for always seating his and Jake's family at the same table for these events.

"Aw, is that so? He's lucky he's cute or else I wouldn't have agreed," you grin, winking at your assumed boyfriend sitting next to you.

"Hey, YOU were the one excited to come! I recall a certain someone's face lighting up when I suggested we go shopping for tonight," Jay immediately retorts.

"Only because you were buying," you giggle, causing Jake to laugh as well.

"Damn, Jay. Tough," Jake jokingly adds as you laugh alongside him. The scowl sitting on Jay's face expresses the opposite of what he's feeling right now: warmth filling him up from the sound of your laughter and the image of you getting along so well with his best friend.

"I'm gonna get us some drinks, you two have fun making fun of me," Jay narrows his eyes at the two of you as he gets up from his seat. You bid him off with a smile before turning back to Jake.

"No but really though, this boy would not stop talking about you coming tonight. Then again, he doesn't really ever stop talking about you," Jake nonchalantly says, not knowing how much he was exposing his friend to you right now.

You raise an eyebrow up in response, "Oh really?"

"Seriously! I don't know what you did to him, Y/N, but this Jay I've been seeing recently is new. He complains a lot less about life nowadays, especially on the days he sees you," he leans back in his chair as his comment brings a smile to your face. Little does he know.

You stretch your neck up to find the boy in question and spot him right as he's returning to your shared table, two drinks in hand. You lock eyes with him from across the room and without a second thought, you're giving him a genuine smile that he's immediately returning.

Your heart beats faster at the view.

You wonder why.

It's 3:07AM when you hear the first ding.

You're not 100% sure as of why you're awake at this hour on a Tuesday night––perhaps a combination of your restless thoughts and feelings not letting you sleep plus the typical stress that comes hand-in-hand with the life of a college student.

It's 3:09AM when you hear the second ding, and you brush it off, assuming it was just Heeseung spamming you with memes again––something he does often when he also can't sleep (you found this out the hard way).

It's still 3:09AM when you hear the third ding, and at 3:10AM , you finally reach over and decide to acknowledge the being who's bothering you at this godforsaken hour.

Jay [3:07AM]: Y/N

Jay [3:09AM]: hi

Jay [3:09AM]: r u awake rn

Y/N [3:10AM]: unfortunately so

Y/N [3:11AM]: why are you up

Jay [3:11AM]: come outside

Y/N [3:13AM: jay it's 3am

Jay [3:13AM]: ye and? don't tell me ur a college student with a curfew

Jay [3:14AM]: plus im alrdy waiting for u outside so u have no choice

Jay [3:15AM]: :)

You groan at your bright phone screen currently illuminating your dark dorm room.

You ponder the consequences you may have to suffer tomorrow if you stay up any later than you already have. But considering the fact that you're probably just going to stay awake lying in bed for god knows how long anyways, why not?

(And you would like to point out that this decision has nothing to do with the fact that you haven't seen Jay in a few days and that maybe a tiny, tiny, tiny, part of you may have missed his presence. Nothing.)

And since that logic is obviously valid (you really gotta work on justifying your life choices), you're suddenly grabbing a hoodie from your closet and hoping it'll be enough to keep you, who's merely in an old band t-shirt from high-school and pajama shorts, warm.

The breeze hits your skin the second you open the doors to your dorm's building, and you're met with the view of Jay's sleek, black BMW that probably costs more than your tuition. He waves at you from the driver's seat, motioning for you to get in.

"To what do I owe you the pleasure at this hour," you deadpan at him with a stone-cold voice as you enter through the passenger's side door, hoping your tone was enough to hide the fact that you're giddy at the fact he invited you out at 3AM in the morning. Like a high-school girl sneaking out of her house to meet up with her bad-boy boyfriend that her parents dislike.

The second you enter his car, you're instantly comforted by the warm air blasting through his vents and his playlist softly playing in the background. Jay's pajama pants and messy hair give you more than enough information to know that he probably just rolled out of his own bed as well. You don't know why, but your view: Jay in his oversized hoodie with his unkept hair in front of your dorm building at 3AM on a Tuesday night, gives you comfort in weird ways you can't explain even if you tried.

But it's obviously just your cloudy, 3AM mind not thinking straight. Obviously.

"When I can't sleep, I go on drives around campus. It helps clear my mind," he says, looking over at you to give you a quick smile before starting his car. "Plus, SnapMap said you were still awake, so...figured you'd wanna join."

"Oh so what, you're my stalker now? You're not driving to the woods to kill me now, are you?" You tease, an eyebrow brought up. Jay lets out a laugh from beside you as he begins to drive further into your campus.

"Guess you'll just have to wait and see," he throws you a wink before reverting his gaze back to the road, mindlessly driving to wherever the road decides to take him.

A comfortable silence falls in between the two of you as Jay continues to drive endless routes around your campus. You look over to the boy driving next to you and take in his features––you don't know what changed, but you no longer feel the same anger or annoyance bubbling within you when you're around him. You're not sure when this changed, but you figure it's just the effect of desensitization. After all, you've been spending so much time with him, you're bound to get used to it. Right?

"Why were you up?" Jay finally asks after a few minutes of just the two of you silently basking in each other's presences.

"Ah, you know. The usual. Endless thoughts running through my mind, stress from school, nothing new," you sign, giving him a soft smile followed with a shrug.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

You answer him with silence as you search your head for the answer.

"I don't know. This is kinda weird, isn't it?" You don't know why you get a sudden surge of confidence, but before you can stop yourself, you find yourself rambling on. "If you had told me a month ago that I'd be here driving around with you when it's nearly 4AM, I would've laughed in your face."

Jay doesn't know whether to laugh or scoff. "Is the idea of hanging out with me that unappealing to you?"

You give him a serious look back. "I mean, up until a month ago when you needed me for whatever this game is, you literally pretended I didn't exist."

Oh. Awkward.

You freeze at your own words, mentally screaming at yourself for letting the words leave your mouth. Why, why, why.

"Y/N..." Jay says after clearing his throat after a few seconds of silence.

"No it's fine, it was a joke," you awkwardly cough and direct your attention to anything else around you right now. The view of your campus' buildings zooming by. The clicking of Jay's blinker when he switches lanes. The quiet roaring of his car's engine. The nervous tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel.

The rest of the ride is excruciatingly silent as he exits the main road and into an empty parking lot of some administration building made out of glass that has too many floors for you to count.

You don't know why you feel your heart beating in your throat as Jay puts the car into park––why you feel uneasy. You slightly turn towards him in your seat, hoping to pick up any sign of well...anything from him.

You don't know why you feel a twinge of guilt––it's not like what you said was necessarily wrong. If you were being honest, you were slightly bothered by how the two of you seemed to silently agree not to mention your past all this time. You were always one to seek answers, to seek closure. You couldn't help but bring it up––Jay was your best friend during those years. For him to just wake up one day and pretend you were nothing to him hurt you, and you couldn't help but still wonder what in the world you did to initiate his actions.

"I'm sor–" You're interrupted with his timid voice, as if he was almost afraid to speak.

"I'm not good with people." He's nibbling on his bottom lip, fingers nervously picking at a spot on the steering wheel.

You're opening and closing your mouth, unsure how to respond. You're 100% positive you look like a fish right now. Good for you.

"I don't know why. Jake calls it commitment issues but in order to have commitment, people have to stay in my life. And people just...don't. They're all bound to leave at some point. So what's the point of putting in effort into relationships if they're just going to leave you at the end?"

You're stunned by his sudden confession, not having been prepared for such a heavy topic to arise between the two of you. Up until tonight, your interactions had always been light-hearted and easy––you guys got along well. You didn't know this is how he felt all along.

But you knew where he was coming from.

You knew what Jay had gone through as a child––his mother having left him and his dad when he was young. You remember when your parents had told you the news at the young age of 13, and you remember the pain and sorrow you felt for your then friend. All you wanted to do was go to him and comfort him, but he had already cut you out from his life by then.

"Or maybe I'm the problem. My dad barely acknowledges my existence because he thinks giving me an allowance is all the parenting I need, my friends probably only stick around because they feel bad for me, you wouldn't even be here if it weren't for the bet, and, fuck, I'm literally known as the campus' fuckboy," Jay continues, falling deeper and deeper into the hole he dug himself.

He hates this, he hates opening up and feeling vulnerable, so he doesn't know why he's doing it now. He doesn't know why he feels comfortable voicing out his fears and worries when he's around you. But he does know it's a new feeling––one he doesn't know how to deal with.

"Jay," you lace your voice with as much comfort as you can provide. None of this is his fault, you want to tell him. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything," he says with a hint of bitterness and you can't tell if it's directed towards you or the topic at hand.

You're completely turned in your seat now to face him––despite the fact that he refuses to meet your gaze, afraid that looking at you is gonna bring out the most vulnerable in him. "You can talk to me. Talking about it makes it a lot easier. I'll always be here for you, as a friend."

Jay doesn't know what it is or why, but something in him snaps at the sound of a certain word falling out of your lips. Friend. Friend.

Friends don't make his heart beat nervously whenever he's around them. Friends don't keep him up at 3AM in the morning, pondering about his feelings for them. Friends don't provide him with this new, warm comfort he's become accustomed to whenever he's around you.

Deep down, Jay knows you didn't mean to add fuel to the fire. But because he's strong-headed, stubborn, and hates how vulnerable he feels next to you, he unleashes his emotions without thinking about the destruction coming along.

"It's none of your business, Y/N. Forget I said anything. You're just a toy for this stupid game and when it's all over we can go back to our own lives and forget this ever happened."

His sudden words cut deep, but they hurt him more than you. The second the words tumble out of his mouth, he's hit with the feeling of instant regret washing over him, and the lump forming in his throat restricts him from finding the right words to take them back.

The silence that falls between the two of you this time is different. It's a cold silence. A loud silence.

Jay feels his walls coming back up around him––the ones you managed to get through––and all he wants to do is apologize but he's terrified. Terrified of seeing your reaction, terrified of losing you again. For the second time.

You tell yourself he doesn't mean it. You tell yourself that he's just enduring more pain that one should ever receive.

But you also tell yourself that this wouldn't be the first time Jay leaves you in the dust.

You tell yourself that you're foolish for ever believing a friendship, or more, could come out of this act at the end. That you're so naive for feeling those stupid, stupid butterflies you've started to notice in your stomach whenever you see, or even think of, him.

"Okay," you begin with a firm tone. You're hurt, but you refuse to show it. You won't let him hurt you for a second time. Not again.

"Just...find me when you need me. As your fake girlfriend or just...me. I'm still here for you," is the last thing you say before un-clicking your seatbelt and leaving his car, beginning your walk back to your dorm hall.

Jay is unsure about many things in life. He's unsure about what he wants to do in the future, he's unsure of where he's going to settle in life, heck, he's unsure about what to have for lunch tomorrow. But he's sure about one thing.

That he's wearing his heart on his sleeve right now, and it's all because of you.

That you've become this new lifeline and he has to choose between holding onto you or drowning.

When Jay wakes up the next morning, his first gut instinct is to get ready to pick you up for class. But today's different. Jay doesn't know where the two of you stand now, especially after last night.

Jay doesn't know how to deal with this combination of unknown emotions he's been feeling lately. They didn't come out of no where, by any means, he realizes. They've been slowly growing over the past month of seeing you so often––like a plant he's been watering overtime, not expecting it to bloom into a flower so suddenly––but he figured it was nothing more than just enjoying the company of a friend.

Until he realizes that the term friend just doesn't suite you anymore––not to him, at least. And that scares him. It scares him that you've made him genuinely smile more in this past month than he ever has in his 19 years of living. It scares him that when he's around you he can't comprehend his own thoughts, his feelings. It scares him that you make him vulnerable, that you've changed him. That you've managed to make the walls that he's spent so long building and polishing to crumble with a simple tap of your finger.

In a perfect world, Jay would have already told you all this––he would be unafraid of how you would react, unafraid of your rejection, unafraid of losing this growing relationship with you. But alas, we don't live in a perfect world. And so when Jay drives to class that day, he drives right past your dorm building.

"Where's Y/N?" is the first thing Jake questions when he enters Jay's car that morning, confused by your absence, having been used to you being in the front seat every morning when Jay goes to give Jake rides to class as well.

"I don't know," Jay mutters, unemotional eyes focused on the road in front of him, not interested in continuing a conversation that involves thinking about you.

Jake hesitates as curiosity gets the best of him. "Did you guys get into a fight or something?"

Jay's hands tighten around the steering wheel of his car. "Or something. Let's just leave it at that."

There are a few beats of silence before Jake speaks up again.

"Well, I guess this works out because I wanted to talk to you about something."

Jay continues to stare straight ahead of him, focusing on just trying to get by without mentally beating himself up at the simple thought of you.

The simple thought of you and your smile. Your witty remarks. Your stupid eye rolls. Your laughter. Your kindness. So much for not thinking about you.

"I'm calling it off," Jake's words catch Jay off guard.

"Huh? Calling what off?"

"The bet. I'm calling it off. I don't care about the textbook fees I'll have to pay next semester. Look, fight or not, you and Y/N are good for each other, everyone can see it. And I really don't want this to end up being one of those messed up teen TV shows where the girlfriend finds out the entire relationship was based off of a stupid game and then they break up and the boyfriend falls into eternal sadness and regret. And I don't wanna see you sad, dude. So yeah! Congrats," although he's admitting defeat, Jake's beaming widely, just content with the fact that his best friend has finally found happiness through the form of you. "You win."

But Jay feels like the opposite of a winner. Because even though his only intention coming into this was simply winning the bet, his life isn't as simple as it was a month ago. Because he discovered something much more valuable than some stupid textbook fees or five hundred dollars or getting his physics homework done for an entire semester.

Something he's scared he's already lost.

You.

⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺

The next time you see Jay is at the same time and place as when he first ever appeared to pick you up––at 12:17PM on a Friday afternoon, as you're exiting the doors of the lecture building home to your awfully long Capitalism in World History class. This time, however it's different.

Because this time, it's one month later, and Jay Park is no longer a forgotten side character in the story of your life. This time, you're frustrated because it's been three days since you've last heard from Jay. And because it's been three days since you've last heard from him, you can't focus on anything else, and because you can't focus on anything else, you're falling behind on every other aspect in your life. Jay's somehow managed to become the center of your life without even having to be present.

Well, up until now. Up until you go down the steps of your lecture hall's entrance and look up to be met with a figure leaning on a car you're far too familiar with. You freeze in your steps as you make eye contact with the boy you've been thinking about non-stop for the past month three days.

Your mind tells you to walk away, to just follow your flight instinct instead of fight, to just go back to your normal life. But here's the thing. Ever since Jay's made his way back to your life, it's been far from normal.

And if you're being honest, you had no interest in going back to your normal life. Normal's overrated anyways. You find your legs bringing yourself over to him, your heart leading the way.

"Hi," you simply say, planting yourself right in front of him.

"Hi."

"What are you doing here?" You already know the answer, but you want to hear him say it.

"Waiting for you," Jay doesn't hesitate in answering you. This time will be different, he tells himself.

"I can walk myself home, thanks," you state, but your actions tell differently, as you make no sign of moving from your spot in front of him.

Jay's mind contemplates telling you everything. About how he regrets that friendship-breaking decision he made that one fateful day in the eighth grade, about his true feelings, about how he first suspected these feelings when he was 11 years old and saw you in your fancy get-up for the sixth grade dance but put it off as a little crush, and about how the same feelings grew into something so, so much more in the present. But seeing that putting all these thoughts into words would involve more than one functioning brain cell (which is all he's convinced he has in the moment, for the view of you staring up at him, looking like that, has his brain short-circuiting), he settles with:

"He called it off. It's over. The bet."

"Oh."

Silence.

Okay, Jay. This is your chance. Say it.

"Is that it?" You lift an eyebrow, awaiting for more explanation. When it doesn't come, you slightly nod and start backing away. "I'll see you around then."

Is that it? Do the two of you just go back to your respective lives now? How can Jay do that, when he doesn't even recall what his life was like before you entered it––and especially when he has absolutely no interest in going back to that life?

Fuck it.

"Y/N!" He stands up straight, a newfound confidence taking over. This time will be different, he tells himself. Because now, he knows what he wants. For sure.

You turn towards him, to see him already making his way towards you, stopping in his steps when he finds himself close enough to you that he can't concentrate anymore.

"I'm sorry for ditching you in the eighth grade. I'm sorry for ignoring you since then. I'm sorry for dragging you into this stupid mess and for pushing you away and I'm sorry for calling you a toy. Because it's far from truth. I like you. A lot. And––and I'm scared. I'm scared of what this means for us, because I just keep messing things up and all I know is that I don't wanna wake up tomorrow and realize you're not in my life anymore and––"

"Woah, woah, Jay. Slow down," you look up at him, the corners of your lips threatening to curve up into a smile. "You're an idiot, you know."

Jay's never really confessed his feelings to anyone before, per say, so he doesn't really know what to expect. But he's watched enough Netflix rom-coms in this lifetime (which is still not that many) to know that hearing the words "you're an idiot" isn't what you're supposed to hear after pouring your heart and soul out. Surely not, right?

"I––I'm not sure how to respond to that," he quietly says, searching your eyes for a sign, for anything. You giggle at his sudden shyness as you grab both his arms and look at him right in the eyes.

"It's okay. I get it, if anything, I'm also scared. But you somehow got me wrapped around your stupid finger, and I hate it," you smirk at him, your hands slowly making their way up his arms to circle around his neck.

Jay's hands naturally fall at your waist as he lets out a breathe he didn't even know he was holding as he returns your smirk. "Well, I could say the same about you. And I also hate it, for your information."

"Hmm, is that so? I guess it cancels out then, right?" You smile at him as he's pulling you in so close, your head turns cloudy.

Jay grins at you, his eyes holding so much joy and endearment as they quickly flicker down to your lips before returning to your own eyes. "I guess this only means one thing then."

"Mm, and what's that?"

And before Jay can answer––and because your life's been anything but normal lately––you make the first move this time, moving your head up to close the small gap between the two of you.

His arms instinctively tighten around you as you capture his lips with your very own, and Jay swears he's about to lift off into space right now. He's on cloud nine, and he makes no plans to touch the ground ever again.

The kiss quickly becomes fervent, all the pent-up tension that the two of you had for one another finally finding its way out, all the words that were previously left unsaid finally expressing themselves. You don't even care if you're being judged by the conservative faculty members of your school right now, or by the looks of fellow students walking past the two of you.

You try your best to keep yourself from smiling as he continues to press his lips against yours, his hand moving to hold your chin, guiding your mouth with his.

Before you find yourself getting carried away, you step back to take a breath, resting your forehead against his chest as his hands rest against your back. He smiles at the sound of you giggling against him.

Jay takes a step back to take one look at you and realizes, in this moment, that change can be good. And he's willing to undergo this change. As long as it's with you.

⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺

The next morning, you bounce down the steps of your dorm building's entrance to meet the wide, bright smile of your ex-childhood-bestfriend-turned-fake-boyfriend-turned-real-boyfriend waiting for you in front of his car, small pastry bag in hand. You smile back at him.

Jay drives you to class that day.

And everyday after that.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ :

✰ let me know what you think! if u made it til the end, mwah :') <3

4K notes · View notes

whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

Text

ruined, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Why is there a mostly shirtless man in your bedroom and why is it Kim Namjoon's, your roommate's, fault? All you want to do is play League of Legends, not be visually attacked by ridiculously attractive Jeon Jungkook as his six friends perform living room karaoke at the top of their very drunk lungs.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; classic Namjoon ripping clothes; you don't have to know how to play LoL, I explain most of it; smut (fem reader, dirty talk, begging, scratching / marking, nipple play, edging / orgasm denial, handjob, (unintentional?) voyeurism, little bit of cum-eating, choking, cowgirl, cock warming); non-idol!BTS – purple-haired, kind-of-a-brat, sub!Jungkook x gamer, noona, dom!reader, ft OT6 being chaotic in the background XD

@yn-the-reader linked me in this and I was already writing about him. a prophet, maybe? XD

“WHY ARE YOU SHIRTLESS?”

You died.

Not literally, but also literally.

“Fuck!”

Now you had thirty-seven seconds of gray screen to figure out why the fuck Jeon Jungkook had busted into your bedroom on this cheerful night with his black dress shirt three-quarters of the way unbuttoned, revealing most of his – oh, sweet Satan, very muscular – pecs and the upper half of his abs. He was holding something in his hands, looking helpless and sad, while you were panic buying Liandry's Anguish and experiencing a special form of anguish yourself.

“Noona, um–”

That’s right, because you were in the middle of a League of Legends game, playing Cassiopeia, the Serpent’s Embrace, also known as half-snake lady or the lamia of the champion roster or a mean version of Monster Musume’s Miia (if you know, you know, and if you don’t, be glad you don’t). Your roommate was having friends over after going drinking. All this was fine and dandy with you, because you were going to spend all night wearing headphones and playing League of Legends, therefore ignoring the outside world, until the outside world came to bother you in the form of Kim Namjoon’s – your roommate’s – mostly shirtless friend Jeon Jungkook.

He wasn’t mostly shirtless most of the time, only right now.

“Noona, Namjoon-hyung ripped my shirt…” Jungkook whimpered hesitantly, chewing on his lip. He looked awkward and distraught despite his long dark purple hair giving him a rather fierce, bad-boy look.

Namjoon was a great roommate. He was smart, conversational, and insightful. A chat with him usually led to an enriching, open-minded perspective. He was relatively clean, considerate, communicative, nonjudgmental, fun to be around, and only set the kitchen on fire twice.

The second time was your fault.

You shouldn’t have let Namjoon in the kitchen the second time.

Also, Namjoon with his friends was a wildly chaotic time. All of his friends, especially drunk, were fucking nuts. Normally, they were probably relatively calm people (maybe not Kim Seokjin or Jung Hoseok, they were very excitable), but together they were a mess. You often wondered how they could function as a group.

Currently, however, you were trying to collect your brain cells as you had mere seconds before respawning onto the platform and were forced to play again. Timing in League of Legends was very important. Seconds can mess up wave management of minions and wave mismanagement can lead to game losses if you weren’t careful. The nuances of the game were often ignored by casual players.

You were, in short, a nerd about it.

“Fucking s-shit, what h-happened?” you sputtered out, turning back to your screen, unable to look at mostly shirtless Jungkook because he was MOSTLY SHIRTLESS. Honestly, he had quite nice pecs, and you should not be thinking about that, but it was incredibly distracting, just like how it used to be distracting when Namjoon was shirtless, but several years of living with him made you accustomed to his impressive pectoral muscles, to the point where you could joke about them with him.

But this was not Namjoon – this was his younger friend Jungkook and you had no idea Jungkook was ripped, mostly because you didn’t pay attention to Namjoon’s friends.

There were too many of them and you were too introverted for that.

“I don’t know, he just grabbed my shirt and it ripped and I managed to find all the buttons, but, but…”

Cassiopeia respawned on the platform and you couldn’t ignore the snake lady any longer. You had to play the game because four random people on your team were counting on you and you couldn’t exactly type, sorry, there’s a hot man in my room with his shirt practically off and I don’t know what to do with my life, so you had to suck it up and play the damn game.

Right-clicking and keeping your eyes only on your computer monitor.

Half-listening to that trembling, silvery voice coming up behind you, making your hairs stand on end even though all he was doing was dumping the tiny buttons on your desk.

Oh, fuck me, you thought to yourself.

“Can you repair it? Please? My mom bought me this shirt and Namjoon-hyung said you can sew, so maybe you can sew them back on? Please?”

“Yes, Jungkook, I can, just not right now, I’m in the middle of a game,” you rambled, suddenly trading damage with the enemy Viktor, trying to avoid the laser from the Machine Herald, swearing under your breath as you stutter-stepped and stunned him, poisoning him quickly enough with your abilities to avoid dying. “I will help you, I just – fucking shit, get the fuck away from me Udyr, fuck!”

“Wow, you curse a lot, noona. It’s kind of funny.”

“I – fuck– I mean, sometimes, and what are you guys doing out there? It sounds like a deranged cabaret club,” you remarked, ticking your head towards the direction of your bedroom door.

“Karaoke!” Jungkook replied brightly, still standing behind you, why was he standing behind you, it was freaking you out a little, but Ocean Dragon was being taken and a team fight was about to happen, so you had to ignore it and support your teammates in chasing down the enemy support.

Seokjin hit a high note that was so shrill that you heard it through your headphones.

“… Wow, he’s got some lungs on him.”

“Do you wanna join us, noona?”

“I can’t sing.”

“Neither can we.”

“Pretty sure all of you can sing better than I can, even Yoongi and Namjoon. I’m fucking terrible.”

“I’m not that good.”

You barely survived with thirty hit points after that debacle of a team fight, but your team had the dragon and you all were slowly on your way to victory. You pressed the ‘B’ key to return to base, but kept your eyes on the screen, lest Udyr, the Spirit Walker and serial bear stun-slapping enemy jungler, ran your ass down and killed you.

“Jungkook, your voice is absolutely heavenly. Fucking beautiful. I’m sure every human being on Earth would want to be serenaded by you.”

Silence that you didn’t notice was awkward for him because you were too busy letting out a sigh of relief and building your next item, typing quickly to your teammates. You all were about to set up for vision around Baron Nashor, a large purple worm-dragon monster that when killed provided a significant, sometimes game-ending buff.

“R… really?”

“Yeah, and you’re handsome, gorgeous, and hot as hell too, so the whole damn package,” you responded absentmindedly, realizing the enemy were trying to split-push and trade objectives so you sent some pings to your teammate to take care of that as you accompanied the main group to help clear waves of minions.

Heat.

You heard him shift beside you and suddenly his face was next to yours, watching your screen closely.

Side-step, cast your ultimate, cast your Miasma ability to ground the enemies and prevent them from dashing away, switching between auto-attacking and piercing them with Twin Fang, all in the span of a mild freak-out because why was Jungkook so FUCKING close?

“Wow, you’re so good at League.”

“I’m Diamond rank, so not that good, but definitely better than all seven of you combined.”

“Haha, true, we’re all pretty bad,” Jungkook laughed next to your ear and, oh, shit, is warm breath feathered on your neck, why weren’t you wearing a turtleneck or something and not your self-cropped oversized band t-shirt and slinky black leggings, why weren’t you cocooned in layers of clothes, because you were quickly highly aware of how attractive Namjoon’s friends were.

To top it all off, you were in the middle of a game, so you just had to tolerate it and stay calm for the sake of your teammates and your elo.

“Maybe you could teach us and we’ll teach you something in return.”

“You guys don’t even listen to each other, why would I assume you all would listen to me?”

“I’d listen to you, noona.”

Now your team was doing the Baron dance, skirting in and out of vision, daring the other team to make a move, daring each other to make a mistake so the other could capitalize on it, slowly, slowly, watch the waves, watch the minimap. Careful. You could control the situation if you were calm and not too trigger-happy. Tension in your fingers and tension in your neck because your roommate’s friend was right next to your head, observing your every move.

His violet hair brushed your shoulder.

Soft, delicate strands against your skin.

“You’re more experienced, so you would know what to do.”

Your support snap-engaged a fight and you were immediately in the zone, right clicking rapidly, cycling through your abilities, keeping track of the opponents’ spells, determined not to let any of them get away, following your teammate’s calls and not hesitating, because hesitation as death and loss, and you were so close to winning you could taste it, going after it with passionate vigor and a slow-forming grin, seeing and hearing the in-game announcer declaring, QUADRA KILL.

You didn’t kill all five of them because someone took the pentakill from you.

You might have cared about that except your ear exploded into clapping as Jungkook excitedly applauded for you, cheering you on, reminding you that a mostly shirtless man was standing right next to you.

Thanks, Namjoon, you thought sarcastically.

“Wow, you played that so well, dodging the Viktor ult and stunning three people like that–”

You felt your cheeks heat at the compliments, busying yourself with your team killing Baron. You didn’t usually have someone commenting on your games. Your eyes flickered to the small buttons on your desk.

Especially not a mostly shirtless guy.

Mostly shirtless hot guy.

Back to screen, seeing your jungler’s typed instructions, suggesting you all to destroy as many structures as you could and then prepare for the next fight for Ocean Dragon Soul and – oh? Your eyebrows raised as the screen abruptly jerked to the enemy base, the nexus inside exploding into shiny gem-like fragments that became the VICTORY banner.

“They surrendered?” you uttered with surprise, clicking on the CONTINUE button. “Why?”

Your eyes flickered to the kill score.

“Oh, thirty-two to nine… maybe that’s why….”

Your team had the nine deaths and the opponent team had thirty-two so, well, maybe that’s why they surrendered the game.

“Aw, that’s no fun,” Jungkook pouted as you clicked on the damage screen. Second most damage. Okay, you could take that. You were a little distracted.

“So, about your problem–”

You spun around to, ack, realize that, yes, Jungkook’s shirt was still flapped wide open to expose his chest like an unwrapped piece of caramel candy. He seemed to realize it too, making a surprised face and yanking the sides closed, as if you hadn’t gotten a damn eyeful already.

“I can resew the buttons back on, but you should borrow a shirt from Namjoon in the meantime,” you managed to say, clearing your throat. “Because I, ah, can’t really sew it when you’re still wearing the shirt.”

“Oh… Oh, right, yeah.”

Then he started yanking his shirt out of his slacks.

UMMMMMMM.

Usually, you didn’t care about this stuff. Men were men. They had chests. But you had things you liked too. Just like how men like tits and ass, you liked well-built pecs and forearms. Actually, you appreciated a nice ass and thighs too. And cute faces. Fuck, you loved a cute face.

“Uh, Jungkook…”

He looked up, questioningly. Big round brown eyes, his violet bangs framing his chiseled jaw, parted pink lips, the small mole underneath his lower lip looking so, so kissable, quivering slightly.

Fuck, Jungkook had a cute face.

His shirt was very open.

Fuck, his lightly tanned skin.

He was hesitating around a button, his deft fingers flexed, ink black tattoos standing out on his knuckles and the back of his hand. Your legs were slightly spread, thighs flush to your gaming chair. Half a second and Jungkook’s eyes flickered back up to your face, pretending he hadn’t been looking.

You raised your eyebrows.

“Are you really just gonna strip in my room and walk out asking Namjoon for a shirt and hope none of the six guys think anything about it?”

His eyes shifted around your room. Bed with black sheets and black velvet duvet. Television with your gaming consoles. Your collection of character figurines from various games. Your black denim jacket hanging on a hook, covered in monotone patches that you had sewn yourself, mostly occult-themed, skeletons, skulls, cats, ghosts, potions, eyeballs, that kind of thing. Back to your desk.

Your legs.

Really staring at your thighs, hips, and crotch.

Up your torso, your hands, your exposed collarbones.

Your face.

Guarding his expression, testing the waters.

“Maybe,” Jungkook said slowly. His eyes darted away and back, teeth catching his lower lip. “I really am hoping you can fix my shirt.”

You watched his face carefully, the flare of darkness in those brown orbs, a hint of naughtiness, dancing with danger. Jungkook had a mischievous streak. You could tell by the way he interacted with his hyungs, listening but talking back, helping them with things but not without a roll of his eyes or a smart remark added, probably because all his friends were older and he was the youngest. He knew he could get away with it.

In short.

Brat.

“What would you like in return, noona?” Jungkook purred, smile dancing on his lips.

Honorifics were supposed to honor you. Show a sign of respect and all that shit.

All I wanted to do was play video games, you grumbled internally. Not suddenly have a thirst fest for one of Namjoon’s best friends. You narrowed your eyes a little, seeing the smirk on that perfectly shaped mouth. He’s not stopping either.

Outside your room, something fell with a loud crash. Probably Namjoon by the depth of that startled yelp. Everyone else started laughing and a very loud, cheerful melody was blasting from the living room television. Nobody was coming to investigate you and Jungkook.

Yet.

“Turn around and ask for a shirt,” you sighed, waving a hand. “Then take off your shirt in the bathroom and then, only then, do you come back and give me your dress shirt.”

You saw Jungkook frown, not expecting that as your answer.

“Oh. Okay.”

He seemed disappointed, lowering his hands.

The silky fabric of the dress shirt slid off his right shoulder, partly revealing his tattoo sleeve and fully revealing his right collarbone and shoulder.

You sucked in a breath, eyes flickering to it. Then his face. Then back to his body. Fuck. Fuckity fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck. Jungkook jumped, startled by the fallen fabric and reached over to grab the fallen collar. Your hand moved faster than you had time to think. You had good reaction time. It was the gaming obsession.

You slapped his hand down.

Jungkook squeaked, head snapping up, purple hair floating around him, gold chain on his neck glittering as he swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing. Strangely, his chain resembled your sterling silver choker that you were wearing right now, except you also wore another necklace with a circular white gold pendant with your zodiac sign.

Not that anyone was ever close enough to inspect it.

“N-Noona?” he breathed, sounding strangely winded.

Shit.

You hadn’t meant to do that. Your body reacted faster than your head.

Shit.

Fuck, he had a nice body. His pecs. Even had a nice dark nipple – well, he probably had two, but you could only see one at the moment – and it all trimmed down to a slim waist and shapely hips. You could tell because of his tailored black slacks. He had been wearing a blazer earlier in the evening too. It was probably on a chair somewhere in the apartment.

Shit.

What did Jungkook need to look so damn good for?

“Where did you guys go to be dressed like that?”

Yes, you were really just going to interrogate him with his shirt dangling off like that.

Jungkook chewed on his lower lip, the tiny mole underneath bouncing up and down as he spoke. “We went to a fancy hotel rooftop bar to celebrate Yoongi-hyung’s award that he won at the music show for producing that song–”

“Ah, right, Namjoon mentioned that earlier today.” Dress code must have been black tie.

Those dark brown eyes found yours, observing you carefully.

“I would have liked to see you there, noona.”

You stopped staring at the tattoos on his bicep and made eye contact. Fuck. Those eyes. Sparkling with deviousness. Trying to see how far he could push your buttons.

“I wonder what kind of dress would you have worn?” he murmured, musing to himself. “I bet you would have looked hotter than any girl there.” Jungkook smiled, playful and boyish. He wasn’t being sleazy about it. Every word was light and honest. “A tight little black dress? Maybe bright red? Short, because you have incredible legs. It would be a crime not to show them off.” He was only complimenting you. His tone wasn’t trying to be suggestive.

Yet.

You didn’t close your legs. You had nothing to be shy about.

Instead, you leaned back in your gaming chair as if it was a throne, resting your left elbow on the armrest and your chin on two fingers, thighs wide open, and your other hand in between them, fingers curled inward to your inner thigh.

Jungkook’s pink lips curved ever higher, ever more roguish.

“Whatever you would have chosen, you would have looked so, so sexy.”

You ticked your head.

“I know.”

Because you did.

Look here, Jeon Jungkook, I’m here minding my own damn business and you’re here inserting yourself into my life, so if you can’t handle me knowing my self-worth, you can fuck right off.

He reached up and tucked a bit of his purple hair behind his right ear, grinning at you.

“You sure you don’t want anything from me?” he asked, a slight flicker of pink tongue between white teeth. “I can give first and then you can decide whether or not you want to help.”

Honestly, those sultry eyes could stop a heart.

You removed your hand from your chin, tapping the air with those two fingers in a dismissive manner.

“Hm.”

Outside, Kim Taehyung and Jung Hoseok were singing a soulful duet and Park Jimin was hooting at inappropriate moments to ruin the atmosphere as much as possible. That raspy, breathless laugh was Min Yoongi, who was probably doubled over on the floor in his expensive suit. Classic genius music producer of the year behavior right there.

Jungkook tucked his hands in his pockets, shirt sleeve falling down, revealing his blacked-out inner elbow. Mountains with a dark sky. It must have hurt, doing something like that. Still, he did it. For aesthetics?

You heard the smirk rather than seeing it, mostly because you were looking at his body.

“I would look so damn good on you, noona.”

Alright.

You closed your eyes slowly and reopened them to look directly into those dangerous, dangerous eyes.

“Lock the door.”

Not really an order. More of a statement. Jungkook could do it or not, you knew. He couldn’t be coerced to do anything. He did things because he wanted to do them. He was nice because he wanted to be nice. He was childish when he wanted to be childish.

And.

Jungkook was obedient when he wanted to be obedient.

He turned around, went to your bedroom door, and locked it.

Well then.

He came back and stood in front of you. A little closer now.

You cocked an eyebrow. “They’re going to come looking for you.”

Jungkook smiled down at you. “I’m sure they will.”

You frowned, lowering your hand to tap the end of the armrest. “They’re going to think I started this.”

“You kind of did.”

Your eyes narrowed sharply. He grinned, taking a step closer.

“Because it’s not my fault you look so good,” Jungkook breathed, voice deepening, leaning down, your expression unchanging, not pulling back but not encouraging anything either. “Not my fault your body is hotter than a summer. Not my fault your confidence is the biggest turn-on I’ve ever had in my life.”

Your thighs were still as open as his shirt.

Jungkook put his knee in between them.

His dress shirt was basically almost completely off his body now, falling off the left shoulder too and dangling off his forearms, exposed collarbones and shoulders, tan skin taut over muscle. A delicious body line, so fucking close to you that you could feel the heat. You still didn’t do anything. You weren’t going to do anything. You didn’t prompt this. You were simply minding your own business commanding a snake lady to victory, not expecting to get seduced by a mischievous bunny-like smile and a tiny black mole under a cute pout.

“I can’t help myself around you.”

You usually didn’t say more to Namjoon’s friends than a mere hello, not wanting to bother them with your presence. They were all men after all. You expected them to want bro time or whatever. Also, you were too busy being obsessed with men that didn’t exist in real life to pursue men that did exist in real life.

At least League of Legends had 3D models so no one could say you lived only the 2D lifestyle.

That didn’t mean that you didn’t partake when the dinner laid themselves out to be eaten. They often had to, because you wouldn’t pay attention otherwise.

Purple hair drifted into your vision, surrounding you in a curtain of violet and dark brown eyes, warm exhale and trembling pink lips, trapping you in Jungkook’s gaze, but you refused to relent, keeping your gaze even. Steady breaths to disguise your racing heart.

You kept your hands closed to prevent him from seeing your shaking fingers.

“Every time I see you, I want you to touch me,” he whispered, trying to hide the edge of nervousness by lowering his voice, enticing you to lean in to hear him better because someone was wiping a damn window in the living room outside your door or was that Kim Seokjin laughing?

There was no difference.

Jungkook’s forehead touched yours and you stopped thinking about Seokjin.

“I just want you to feel me up, rip my clothes off, and fuck me until I can’t think straight. Use me, abuse me, wreck me, ruin me,” he shuddered, definitely thinking about it, and one blink and you spied the obvious tent in his pants.

“Maybe I’m a lazy girl,” you finally said, touching your nose to his, inhaling his breath, a little bit of alcohol, a little bit of fruitiness, and that hint of cologne, fresh, clean, and intense. Something else too. Musk, maybe his pheromones or something like that. Whatever it was smelled fucking delicious, just like you. What did your perfume smell like? Spiced fire blended with addictive sweetness.

You shrugged casually.

“Maybe I’m a pillow princess.”

Jungkook chuckled.

“I can tell you’re not.”

You had to smirk.

Of course, you weren’t.

You closed your thighs around his knee and squeezed, raising to your tiptoes. He gasped softly, shivering at the simple touch of your soft thighs pressing around his muscular leg. It was disturbingly noisy out there, but here it was silent, pared down to your breathing and Jungkook’s breathing, mixing together, blazingly hot, closer, closer, doing the careful dance, daring each other to make the move that was so obviously going to happen.

“What are you gonna say when they ask you where you’ve been all this time?” you whispered, avoiding letting your lips brush against his.

“The truth.”

His tongue flickered out and barely touched your lips.

You didn’t make a sound.

Jungkook moaned, the sound drifting into your throat, and you could taste his desire.

“I tripped and fell into your lap.”

Your lips curved into a smirk.

He kissed you.

His hands on the armrests of your rolling chair, pushing it back into your desk, pressing his lips to yours, inhaling deeply, wanting to breathe you, wanting to taste you, wanting you, shivering as you finally touched him with your hands, but this was you, and your first touch wasn’t going to be wasted on a conventional innocent touch.

Your fingers closed in on his rock-hard erection and stroked him through his pants.

Jungkook moaned your name right in your mouth, eyes half-lidded, his violet hair encircling your face as he rolled his hips into your palm, whining deep in his chest.

“Fuck, yes, noona, play with me…”

You flitted your tongue between his lips and he chased it, begging you for more, and yet you continued to tease, light flicks between those soft pillows, nipping at them, even pushing up his lower lip so the tip of your tongue could draw a small heart around that mole, kissing it, so gentle, so delicate. His entire body shook, your hand palming his hardness through his pants, nails scraping against his balls, caressing all of it, acting like you owned it. Jungkook was certainly humping your hand like you did.

“You only want me because I didn’t want you,” you taunted, not bothering to hide your smirk and your slight disapproval.

“That’s not true,” he panted, attempting to get you to touch his chest, pushing you back into your chair, and yet you kept the fingers of your free hand on the cusp of what he wanted, heat close but no contact, causing him to whimper every time your fingernails barely nicked his skin. “I want you because you’re pretty, gorgeous, and hot as hell.”

Hm, that sounded familiar.

“I want you because I love watching you play your favorite games,” he chuckled, kissing the side of your lips, nose to nose. “I want you because I love that little smirk you make when you do something good. I want you because I love that aggressiveness that comes out and how you seem to lose your filter. Shit, it’s so fucking hot when you’re focused. Makes me wanna see your face when you’re pinning me down and having your way with me. Makes me want to obey you and disobey you at the same time, because I want you to reward me and punish me, I just can’t decide, fuck, you make life so hard for me.”

He punctuated hard by violently humping your hand, rattling your desk with his force.

Outside you heard Namjoon yelling “CANNONBALL” and throwing himself onto that giant gray furry beanbag you paid far too much for about six months ago. It was now a household party favorite, due to its massive size and fluffiness. At the moment, it sounded like a pile of six guys in semi-formal clothing was beginning and, instead of watching this heap of hot dudes being constructed, you were making out with the seventh guy’s face and grabbing his dick.

You’ll take this trade.

You felt Jungkook’s hands groping around, undoing his pants and the zipper, trying to get you to touch more, more, desperate for you to be all over him.

“P-Please… please, I don’t know when they’re going to notice…” he pleaded. “You’re so close, so close, ah, I can’t think, please…”

“Shh…” you soothed. “The door is locked.”

Your fingertips finally touched his chest, not disappointed in the slightest when you touched those delicious-looking pecs. They felt just as nice under your palm, his pounding heart and wanton moan vibrating up your arm.

“Aren’t you a needy little brat trying to distract me from my games, hm?”

Your fingertips hooked over the waistband of his boxer briefs.

“You’re going to have to face the consequences, Jungkook.”

You said his name like a delicious sweet about to be eaten, growl in your throat as you yanked down his underwear, capturing his lips, robbing him of his cries as you clawed down his chest, grasping his cock and pumping him, long, complete strokes from base to tip, curling your fingers around his balls, juggling them with your fingers teasingly as he squirmed and groaned. Your free arm shot around his back, digging your nails into his spine, not letting him get away. His black dress shirt was falling, falling to your floor, his bluish-purple hair in your face and his strong hands on your shoulders, sliding down, kneading your breasts through your clothes, whining that you were still wearing a bra – of course, you were, six dudes were coming over and they didn’t need to see your magnificent nipples on display, although clearly one of them wanted to see – and he was trying to get to the hem of your shirt, but you smacked his hands away, building the pressure and speed, pre-cum leaking between your fingers and adding slickness to lessen the dry friction.

Fuck, you could smell him and he smelled so fucking good.

“Noona, please…” Jungkook gasped, hands on the armrests of your chair, tipping his head back at the pleasure, pants at his fucking knees, chest, crotch, thighs on display. “This is… embarrassing…”

He meant him being mostly naked and you being dressed.

You shrugged, acting indifferent. “Not for me.”

He whimpered at your words, so noticeably dominant despite not using an aggressive or commanding tone. Either that or he was very invested in you jacking him off. You suspected it was a combination of the two, considering how eagerly his cock twitched when you answered.

“What should I do, Jungkook? Should I let you cum? Or should I play with you and stop, make you put your clothes back on and walk out there, desperate to be finished off?” you mused aloud, running your nails up his back, not that hard, but he leaned back into it so they sank into him, wordlessly begging you to do it harder, so you did, setting your jaw and scratching at his back, forcing him back into position. His cock throbbed in your hand, pulsating wildly.

Hm, he really loved it, huh.

“P-Please… wanna cum, please don’t be mean…” he gasped, thrusting his hips into your punishingly tight grip.

“Hm, why does it matter? You’ll just run to the bathroom and finish yourself off anyway, right?”

“Want you to do it, please,” he begged, his long hair curling around his jaw, dark purple locks framing the sharpness, lashes fluttering as you rubbed your thumb against the underside of the head, smearing pre-cum over the slit. “Your hand feels so good, so fucking good, better than I thought, please, I need you to touch me or I can’t get off, please…”

You removed your hand.

Jungkook cried out in denied despair, pitch hiking, the sinful sound clearly audible despite the debaucherously loud ruckus outside your bedroom door that included not one, but two people howling like werewolves for some unknown reason. At this point, you were mildly curious.

But you had a job to do.

He grabbed the front of your shirt, almost sobbing with need. Somehow his violet hair was a mess and you hadn’t even touched it. It cascaded over one of his eyes, an indigo curtain, the other chocolate orb shaking and pupil dilated, black prominent in the dark brown.

“Please don’t–”

You shoved two fingers from your right hand into that pleading mouth and raised your left.

He choked, gagging a little on your fingers.

You stuck your tongue out and licked your palm, slathering it with a thick layer of slick saliva.

Jungkook’s eyes widened at the dirty action and then rolled back into his head as you wrapped your hand around his aching cock once more, now covered in saliva, swiftly and fervently jacking him off, hard, fast, tight, nearly choking his cock, pushing his chin up and his chest to your hungry mouth, tongue and teeth and lips, all over those dark nipples hardening under your persistent touch, heedless to his rising moans, so very obvious now what was happening in your bedroom.

It didn’t bother you at all. Jungkook walked in here and asked you to wreck and ruin him, so you did exactly what he asked you to do, leaving harsh bite marks and slippery saliva all over his soft skin, your perfume rubbing off onto his body, coating his chest in your scent and his pulsating thick length with your spit, and he was so fucking hard that you were impressed, feeling his mouth suck on your fingers desperately and wetly, your name a messy garble above your head.

“Fuck, yes, umpf, oh fuck, I’m so close, so close, gonna cum, goona cum for you…!”

“Jungkook?”

You had no idea who called his name through your door, because the next second Jungkook was pitching forward and shooting his cum up your thigh and chest, thick white strings painting your leggings and band t-shirt, soaking into the fabric and creating a sticky mess on your skin, your head lifting in response to his movement to avoid knocking into him, your fingers sliding out of his lips, strings of saliva snapping as they left, and suddenly Jungkook’s face was in your face, his lips on yours in a passionate kiss, rutting into your hand to increase the sensitivity, shoulders and hips flinching, whimpering gratitude and ecstasy into your mouth, his hands in your hair, kissing you deeper, more ravenously, ignoring the questioning voices, lost in the pleasure of his orgasm.

You heard Namjoon say outside your door, “I think he made his move.”

You asshole, at least warn me, you thought irritably.

“You’re so good… so good, exactly what I need… I knew you would be… fuck…”

You thrust your tongue into his lips once and backed off, chuckling as he whined for more.

“Go ask for a shirt.”

Jungkook shook his head rapidly, violet hair flying everywhere. Your hand was still wrapped around his semi-hard cock, his cum dripping onto your wrist. His ears were turning red.

“I can’t… They know something is going on…” he mumbled, scooting closer to you, as if your body heat could somehow mask the fact that you just jacked him off with six of his friends standing outside your bedroom door whispering.

“Maybe you wanted them to know.”

You squeezed his ass and he trembled, clutching your shoulders.

“Easy way to tell them that you want to be owned by me, right?”

You could tell by the way his eyes were darting around rapidly that the thought crossed his mind more than once.

“Jungkook.”

You said it loud enough for a keen ear to hear it if they were really eavesdropping. You looked up at Jungkook, his eyes immediately fixating on yours because of your tone.

In control, not to be questioned.

“Get on your knees.”

Dead silence outside your bedroom.

“B… but…”

His cheeks flushed pink.

You took his chin and pulled him down to your face, murmuring to that mole under his lips, pecking it daintily, almost innocently, his wispy moan drifting over your nose. Your words were barely above a whisper, only for him.

“You made a mess. Clean it up.”

You stroked Jungkook’s chin with your thumb, your other hand tucking his long hair behind his ear.

“I’ll let you sleep in my bed tonight, so be a good boy for me right now and I’ll let you be a bad boy in bed.”

His head tilted and Jungkook whispered your name into your mouth, drenched with desire.

You smirked, stroking his jaw fondly.

He got to his knees, in between your open thighs, leaning forward, subservient eyes on your face as his pink tongue extended, licking at his own cum staining your clothes, eyes closing at your hand on the top of his head, not directing the movement, but reminding him who was in charge here, reminding him with nails in his scalp that he was going to be fucked until he couldn’t think straight.

Used, abused, wrecked, ruined.

“I don’t wanna.”

“We both know you do.”

“But I want to fuck you,” Jungkook protested, speaking softly because everyone was sleeping, or at least it seemed that way, not that either you or Jungkook cared, because you were forcing him to his knees on your bed, pushing his torso back, nails digging into his chest, towering over him, his naked body already covered in your bites and scratches, focused on his inner thighs and chest, none on his neck because that’s where he wanted it the most.

And you knew it.

“Noona, please…”

He said please a lot for someone who did not, in fact, want to be pleased, but tortured.

You grabbed him by the chin, cocking an eyebrow.

His hands were behind him, arms shaking as they held him up, shivering delightfully under your petrifying gaze.

“Please what? Hm? Saying please when you come crawling into my room, begging for dirty things with your friends right outside, saying please when you interrupt me and distract me, jeopardizing my chances to win my game?”

You leaned in close, you knowing you were only crafting a scene, him knowing that you didn’t actually care, but Jungkook wanted to hear the words, wanted you to put that malice in your tone to caress his ears, wanted you to cannibalize his sanity and put him in a different headspace, his cock already responding to it, bobbing in the air, purple-red and achingly hard from multiple orgasms, and he still wanted more.

“Saying please so you can say please when you’re under me, helplessly begging me to let you cum?”

You could hear his whines vibrating under your fingertips, pupils blown wide, lower lip trembling, begging you already, such a needy little thing, those lovely brown eyes full of submission, muscles tense with anticipation, every passing second spiraling him into increased frustration, because instead of doing anything, you were only smirking wider and wider, pushing his head back.

“Well? Tell me if you’re a dirty boy or not. Maybe I’ll do what you want.”

His violet hair cascaded to his shoulder blades, his low moan coursing through your fingertips and the heated air of your bedroom.

“Y… Yes, I’m a d-dirty boy…”

“Noona,” you prompted.

Just because you could.

His lips curved into an open smile, two of your fingers hooked over his lower lip, fingertips rubbing his tongue. Your thumb nail pressed into his mole.

“Noona.”

You ripped the condom open with your teeth, which was not advisable unless you were the kind of person that practiced that for hours on end, spending an obscene amount of money on unused condoms to perfect your technique, because nobody wants a broken condom or lube in their teeth. Why would you want to learn such a thing? You were a stickler for details. A perfectionist in perfecting a perfect display of raw dominance.

You spat out the torn corner onto Jungkook’s chest and he whimpered, unashamedly amazed.

Your left hand removed the condom from the package and your right slid out of his mouth and encircled his neck.

You inspected the condom, lazily turning it to the correct position, fingers pressed to the sides of his neck, leaving plenty of space for his trachea between your thumb and forefinger. You didn’t bother looking at his face. Instead, you spread your legs, poised and naked over him and his throbbing cock.

Your right hand started choking him.

Your left hand started rolling the condom down his thick, hard length.

Your name leaked out of his lips in a thin gurgle, his eyes rolling back into his head.

“Say please, Jungkook.”

A sharp, distinct order.

“P… Please…” he gasped out, chest shuddering.

Your hand tightened around his throat and your pussy clenched around his cock as you forced yourself down on him.

“Oh, fuuuuuuuck…”

You didn’t bother asking if he liked it. His vicious fisting of your sheets and trembling body, cries and cock included, told you everything you needed to know. You only watched the color of his cheeks, knowing there were limits to how long you could choke him. Therefore there was no time to be wasted, already starting your favorite pace, rough and hard, filling yourself with that delicious cock built to take your abuse, jaw set, gripping his throat, blood pounding under your fingertips, slapping hips to crotch, heat sparking though your veins, hotter, hotter, your smirk growing more and more smug, tongue tracing your lips as you witnessed Jungkook’s descent into sin, raising his head so he could watch you bounce on his cock with hazed brown orbs, mouth open, tongue lolling out, circulation thinning, purple hair wild around that cute, distressed face.

You let up the pressure on his neck, dark snicker rumbling in your chest.

“This pussy worth it, brat?”

The rush of missing blood into his brain, the suffocating pleasure of your pulsating walls wrapped around his twitching cock, your authoritative growl and merciless words tearing through him – you saw it all taking over Jungkook, forced to respond honestly from pure instinct because there was no time to compile pretty words or a smart comeback.

“Yes, noona, yes, I love it, I love it, this brat fucking loves what you do to him…”

You immediately choked him again and slapped your pussy onto his cock like you were whipping him.

His eyes rolled back and a wild moan tore out of his chest, cut off by your hand.

The bed creaked under you, bearing the weight of your roughness.

“I know you love it,” you snarled, leaning in, fucking him into your bed with vigor, straining his knees, so uncomfortable and so comfortable for him at the same time, pain and pleasure, clearly something he craved and loved from how hard he was. “You said you need me to touch you or you can’t get off.”

You knew that couldn’t be true.

Jungkook probably got off hundreds of times thinking about you, otherwise he wouldn’t be so ecstatic about you violently riding his dick right now.

His teeth sank into his swollen lower lip, staring at you through his lashes, his voice a thin whisper laced with insatiable need.

“I can’t cum without you anymore.”

You removed your hand.

Your hips stopped abruptly, fulling sheathing his cock inside you.

“No!”

His shout was so loud and desperate that you had to conceal your surprise, not expecting the frantic ferocity of his tone, nearly an agonized sob as he grabbed your upper arms in a crushing grip, his indigo locks crashing into his high cheekbones, sticking to his sweaty face and sharp jaw. It took everything in you to stay calm, everything to not give in and let him have what he wanted. Maybe it was stubbornness, maybe it was knowing the role you were playing, maybe it was the sadistic side of you, who the fuck knew, but there was only a beat of hesitation, a second of you staring into those beautiful dark brown eyes, so perfect.

Just perfect.

Perfectly wrecked, willing to do anything in this moment for you to continue.

Before he could utter a peep of a plea, you shook out of his grip and seized his head, crashing his lips onto your neck.

Jungkook bit you.

Instant, searing pain, taking out all his sexual frustration on your neck, sucking at the skin, hot tongue lapping, groaning, moaning, half-crying because you didn’t move. You just sat on his dick and forced his mouth onto your neck, gleefully savoring his despair, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to feel the pleasure, his hands and nails digging into your waist, his teeth latched to the side of your throat, his stiff cock shuddering inside you, your tight heat keeping him hard but not letting him cum, repeatedly squeezing the engorged head brutally, driving him insane.

Insane.

You could feel his lips move, but you muffled his words, pushing his head into your neck.

Please.

Deep inhale, his wonderful scent filling your nose.

Please.

Riding the high that was Jungkook’s desire for you, fingers tangled into violet strands.

Please.

He felt so, so good, spoon-feeding the dom in you with his tiny whimpers and distraught sniffles.

“P… Please…”

You pressed your lips to his hair, murmuring his name sweetly.

“Jungkook.”

No quiver to your tone, only serene calm.

“Noona…”

His hands slid up your back as your hips began to rock, slow, so painfully slow, building the frenzy layer by layer, his hardness swelling inside you, his soft lips pressed to his hickey onto your neck, even more turned on because he knew you let him mark you, he knew in this moment you were his and only his, everything he wanted and more, his hips rising to meet yours, deepening your thrusts, matching your force, burying his face into your skin and your scent, wanting nothing more than your command over his body.

You turned his head, tucking his hair behind one ear, speaking dark whispers into that curve.

“You look the best when on your knees for me, Jungkook.”

He shivered, your name falling sloppily from his lips, drunk from your power and lost in his service.

You let go of his head and grabbed his shoulders instead, putting all of your weight onto him, now letting yourself chase it, chase the orgasm that you had been building for yourself all this time, letting yourself feel Jungkook and feel the full force of the pleasure he gave you, because, yes, of course, you served him first before you, even if it didn’t seem like it.

Because when it came down to it, Jungkook came to you, opening himself petal by petal to show you his vulnerable side, testing the waters, hoping, wishing, praying that maybe, just maybe, you were the kind of person that he was expecting, wanting, needing, and you, knowing how difficult that was because, well, you had made it difficult, only focusing on games and not on those longing eyes that watched you whenever you came into his view.

Eyes that you looked into now.

Half-lidded, glazed over, fucked-out, still honest.

His large hands were still on your waist, holding you to him as you rode him with furious slaps, muscles flexed in his chest and arms, tattoos on his right arm tense and taut from holding this position for so long. He looked so good. Felt so good. Had an amazing cock.

And fuck.

Jungkook had a cute face.

You genuinely smiled.

“I’ll take care of everything,” you drawled, injecting your words with conviction and adoration.

That did it.

His lips parted, low groan emitting from his throat as his head tipped back, purple waterfalling onto his back, thrusting up into you and shooting into the condom with fierce jolts, unable to hold back any longer, his entire length flinching uncontrollably, sweet whimpers at his release, feeling sorry that he didn’t let you cum first, but that didn’t matter, because you rode through it, already there, falling, falling, your sigh like laden smoke as your orgasm slammed into you, welcoming the bolts of cruel pulses flying through you, concentrated onto your core, Jungkook’s moans hiking into pitched ecstasy at the convulsing clenches of his oversensitive, overused cock, arms embracing you tightly, hugging you for dear life, chest to chest, pounding heart against yours.

Your fingers tangled into his hair.

His hand fitted around your head.

Lips to lips and you took care of everything, claiming that mouth as yours, holding him up even though you were the one in his lap, your kiss onto that perfect mole under that pretty pout, cherishing every mumble of your name, lowering him onto your pillows, soft kisses in between. You took care of everything, lifting yourself off him, chuckling as he whined, pawing for you to come back, but you rapped his knuckles and calmed him, removing the condom and cleaning him off gently with a towel, soft kisses in between because he wanted the attention, deliberately not closing his eyes until you crawled back into the bed, tucking the covers around you and him, Jungkook immediately turning and yanking you into his chest, nose against your skin.

“Who’s the pillow princess?” you teased, ruffling his long violet locks.

His lips pressed onto your hickey, his mark on you, and he sighed in content, drifting into sleep.

In the morning, you found a pile of five guys in the living room sleeping in various positions on the giant gray furry beanbag and the sofa. Jungkook was in your bed, passed out. The last guy, Min Yoongi, was in Kim Namjoon’s room, sleeping on his bed, because he was a smart man and took advantage of a perfectly good bed that five drunk hooligans undoubtedly forgot about.

You chuckled and rubbed your neck as you brushed your teeth, seeing yourself and the large purple hickey Jungkook had made last night in the bathroom mirror.

You went back to your room after retrieving the sewing basket from the living room, spending the morning calmly stitching the small buttons back onto his black dress shirt as the seven guys in your apartment continued to snore away.

Then you went back to playing League of Legends.

Ah, Cassiopeia, I had an eventful evening, but I have returned to you.

drabble morning-after hungover breakfast

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jeongguk x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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sweetest-honeybee · 2 years ago

Note

Oh no, storms are never fun I hope you’re doing alright. Here’s another question (or a few I don’t know chill tonight) to hopefully help you ignore the thunder. What would happen if Bach found our saw these other fractions of Hels? Does Sic prefer being under the ground or above it? Does Sever pity Lesion or, vise versa, does Lesion hate Sever? I apologize for the long post, but I’m excited to see if I can weave a story or two from this. -Scribe anon

Oh no don’t be sorry this is the best way to ignore it on top of the music on full blast in my eardrums XD

Prepare for a lot of rambling I’m so sorry-

1. If Bach Found the Rest of Hels

That’s essentially what happened with Ecto and I’s combined Hels lore actually! He created the rifts between our two versions of Hels and it’s population and thus started a lot of different interactions and drama on both sides. (Look at that, there’s a reason our Hels interact XD)

As for my personal lore specifically, he would absolutely explore those other fractions and ngl mostly see if they’re all that useful to him and how it differs from the set of districts he came from. It is a VERY exciting discovery for him.

Because like, people can travel in and out of Hels as they please. For some it’s easier than others and after a while Bach just ended up getting bored. He can go to the Overworld but that’s only anywhere Doc has gone and will go. He can’t go off on his own much.

So he’s looking for other places mostly for his own entertainment :)

2. Sic Living Underground

Underground generally because he lives underground and often just prefers not to be seen or for people to know he’s even in the mines. Clap and Bach would not be happy seeing him down there if he’s causing any trouble.

He mostly just chills out down there though. The only time he did anything was the whole Vespa/Gea thing when he stole Gea for bait. Spoiler that I didn’t draw tho- Sic did very much attack Vespa and Bach when they went into the mines and Bach ended up stranded while Vespa was captured. Ehhhh you can kinda decide what happens next but I mean Vespa did get out with Gea and word travelled fast about an Evil X Hels and now Vespa’s entire district hates Sic. So. There’s that XD

The mines probably got bombed again after that whole deal though ngl, Sid probably did end up moving somewhere else.

Anyways, moving on-

3. Sever and Lesion

So Sever and Lesion were a weird pair because Sever by definition is a Hels but only by like. Technicality? He’s not from Hels, never was, he was created by the vex and was banished to Hels. Lesion was the original Scar Hels that was there from the beginning. Though he wasn’t in that particular fraction of Hels for hardlyyyy…I think it was 80-90 years before he was killed off. (Ones like Vespa and Bach were there up to 700 years I think, I’ll have to do my calculations again)

But either way, Lesion was killed, Sever stayed long enough for the world to consider him a Hels (you stay in one place too long, basically your entire code switches up. He was actually originally considered a Mob). He lived out the years Lesion lost and Lesion was uh. Not happy.

It really is both ways though. Lesion does not like Sever and would absolutely kill him or take him away from Vespa if he could (or, you know, kill Vespa too because he would love that and very much did try). Sever does pity him, but he generally doesn’t trust him (as he does with most people) enough to actually attempt to be around him. Just leaves him be to build up his district again.

Essentially Lesion has this mentality that Sever stole the years he could’ve lived or whatever, he’s just really angry at everyone but mostly Sever and Vespa.

And Clap, in a way. But I can explain that later if you want :)

#I’m sorry I will ramble #I don’t talk about em much and I’ve developed a lot of info on them while chatting with Ecto XD #evil hermits

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alinastracker · 4 years ago

Note

If you’re still doing the prompts I have oneeeee hehe

" i mean... i-i'm cool with sharing the bed if you are. "

you got it baby 🥰

but i know something’s starting right now

It’s a sweltering Ravkan summer day, but nothing brings heat to her body like watching Mal in the pool, water droplets racing down his chest. His shaggy hair is a mop on his head, and she realizes this is what he must look like in the shower.

This is exactly why she didn’t want to bring him on the trip.

It’s the first week of July, and for the past three years, that’s meant a trip to the Os Alta Resort with Genya and Zoya. It’s a way for them to relax after exams and catch up now that they all attend different schools. But at the end of May, the two of them had FaceTimed her about a change for this year.

“We were thinking of taking the boys with,” Genya says gently, nervous for her reaction.

Zoya is frank as ever. “It’s cheaper that way. Besides, after all this long distance, I could use a week of uninterrupted fuc—”

“Zoya!”

“Relax, Starkov. We’re all adults here.”

“Anyway,” Genya cuts in. “We’re just telling you in case you wanted to bring someone, too. Maybe Mal?”

“Mal and I aren’t dating.”

Only in her dreams.

“Might as well be,” Zoya mutters.

So in the choice between bringing Mal on what has basically turned into a couple’s retreat and going to said couple’s retreat alone, she’s chosen the former. It would be fine. Mal knows her friends. Him and Nikolai like to talk sports. Maybe it’ll be a little weird, being the only non-couple, but they could deal.

It would have been fine, if it weren’t for this morning’s check in.

"So it looks like we have you booked for three single rooms," the concierge says.

Alina frowns. "One of those should be a double."

The concierge checks again, each click of his mouse making her anxiety rise. He frowns. "Sorry, miss. It's showing me all singles."

"It's fine," Mal says. "Could we just upgrade it to a double, then?"

"Er, I'm afraid we're all booked, sir."

Nikolai claps his hands together, cheerful as ever at Zoya's side. "Well, I'll just switch with Alina, and Mal and I can — shit, Zoy!"

Zoya had stomped on his foot.

"We are not switching shit," she hisses under her breath.

Nikolai sighs. "My deadly dearest, certainly it's no big deal—"

"I bought us a new toy for this trip. We are not switching."

There is a brief moment where everyone freezes, then Genya groans, shaking her head as she murmurs apologies to the concierge, who is trying hard to pretend he hasn’t heard a thing. The tips of Mal's ears go red, and Alina is sure hers match. David, lost in his audiobook, is oblivious to all of it.

Nikolai clears his throat and turns to the two of them with a sheepish grin. "Sorry, mate. You're on your own."

The concierge slowly raises a finger and says, "We might be able to supply a cot?"

Alina can feel everyone's eyes on her, which is the last thing she ever wants. She has the strong desire to curl in on herself, but that only really works in the winter when she dons large coats and sweaters. But it’s summer, and she is in only a mustard yellow crop top and jean shorts, though she suddenly feels as exposed as if she were completely naked.

Mal takes one look at her and gently nudges his foot against hers. "I mean . . . I'm cool with sharing the bed if you are?"

Her brain is looking for anyway out of this whole conversation, so she nods.

So far, they have been in their room once to drop off their things and change into bathing suits, both of them dancing around the bed without ever touching it. The air in the room feels charged even with sunlight still pouring in. What would tonight be like?

More importantly, how was she supposed to handle sleeping beside him when she can’t even handle watching him in the pool?

Genya climbs on Mal’s shoulders for a game of chicken — David is, unsurprisingly, not in the pool, but sitting beside Alina on a lounge chair. She feels a pang of something like jealousy as she watches the game commence, which cannot be more ridiculous.

They can’t avoid the night forever, and it comes much too quickly despite how long they spend mingling at the resort bar. In their room, Mal lets Alina use the bathroom first. A kind offer, she thinks, until she realizes it leaves her to stake out a spot on the bed first. No more dancing.

Left side or right? Does Mal have a preference? Does she? How long until Mal finishes in the bathroom and comes out to see her staring at the bed like a mental person?

Right side, she chooses finally. She curls up on the left side of her body usually, so this way, she doesn’t have to face him as they sleep. Good call. As she untucks the covers from the bed, she secretly hopes to find something horrifying, like blood or bugs, so they can get a refund and leave. Sadly, it is a perfectly fine bed. Alina plops onto it and tucks herself in.

Mal finishes in the bathroom a few minutes later, and if he’s as rattled about their sleeping arrangement as she is, he does not show it. There’s plenty of space between them as he settles into bed. Maybe this won’t be as bad as she feared.

“Well, goodnight,” Mal says through a yawn.

“Goodnight,” Alina replies.

They each turn off their bedside lamps. Mal is softly snoring soon after, but Alina stays awake much too long for her liking, thinking of how close he is.

They fall into a similar routine for the next couple nights. During the day, all is fine. Their little group meshes well. Genya and Nikolai are often off together, both of them on a mission, it seems, to try every flavor of ice cream from Os Alta's ice cream bar. Or sometimes it’s Nikolai and Mal running off, joining a game of pool volleyball, both of them stupidly competitive. When Zoya gets annoyed with the overload of children at the waterpark, she joins David on one of the lounge chairs to read for a while — Zoya a smutty historical romance and David a nonfiction on modern space travel. We just shouldn't let Jeff Bezos come back, he argues to Genya later, while Zoya murmurs to Nikolai something she wants him to do to her that night.

Alina thanks the saints her room isn’t next to Zoya’s.

The trip is going so smoothly that she doesn’t realize what trouble Sunday brings with it. It’s always their favorite part of the trip: bottomless margarita night. They all have absolutely horrific, hilarious pictures and videos of themselves from the past three years thanks to bottomless margarita night at Os Alta. But the thought of being drunk like that while she’s sharing a bed with Mal?

Okay, so she just won’t drink tonight. Problem solved.

“You can’t not drink!” Zoya says, personally offended.

“Come on, it’s tradition!” Genya agrees.

But she’s determined to hold out. Only when she sees the others with their drinks, she decides one sip won’t hurt. One sip becomes one drink, and one drink becomes a couple. Soon enough, she’s drunk enough to sign herself up for karaoke, another Os Alta tradition.

“I dunno what I should siiiing,” she slurs, swaying lightly on her feet.

“I have the perfect song for you!” Genya cheers excitedly.

So that’s how she ends up on stage, drunk off her ass, horridly singing Taylor Swift’s We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together. She really gets into it, jumping and nailing the talking parts a little too well. But she can hear Genya and Zoya screaming the lyrics along with her, and it only encourages her.

Genya records a Snapchat of her performance, snickering to Mal and David about how she’s going to accidentally send it to the asshole Alina dated last year who’s still entirely too obsessed with her.

Nikolai is the only one of the boys drunk enough to sign up, taking the stage after Alina to perform a disgustingly off-key version of Queen’s Don’t Stop Me Now. They all agree that Freddie Mercury is rolling in his grave.

By the end of the night, the four of them are totally wasted. David, who had spent the night nursing one drink, his focus on getting Genya her drinks and ensuring that she didn’t trip over herself, has to help the aforementioned redhead up to their room. Nikolai and Zoya are a sight, both wickedly drunk, trying to help each other stay upright. Mal had only downed a couple drinks and is mostly sober, which Alina is very thankful for, as she can’t hold herself up to save her life. She nearly trips on absolutely nothing so many times that Mal finally scoops her into his arms, carrying her the rest of the way to the room. Alina giggles the whole way.

There’s no getting ready for bed that night. Mal sets her on the bed, and she resigns to sleeping in her red summer dress. When Mal joins her after having a shower, drunk Alina has no qualms curling up against him and sniffing him.

“Mm, you smell good,” she hums.

Mal chuckles even as he tenses. Alina has her arm around him and her face pressed into his side. He’s not sure he can breathe. She’s too drunk to notice the blush on his face.

“That’s probably just because you smell like alcohol,” he hedges.

Alina giggles and shakes her head. “No, you always smell good.”

He doesn’t know what to do with this information, but he does a lot of thinking instead of sleeping as Alina passes out next to him.

Monday morning brings with it a pounding headache for Alina. She prepares for the bright sunlight streaming through the window, but the room is dark when she opens her eyes. Mal isn’t beside her, but he left aspirin and a glass of water on the nightstand in addition to pulling out the blackout curtains. She falls in love with him a little bit more.

The day is a quiet one. The girls and Nikolai spend their time at the spa, Mal and David off doing saints know what. She gets the best massage of her life, and while her head still aches despite the pain pill, seeing Nikolai get his toenails painted bright red makes every sip she had last night worth it.

When they’re in the room again after dinner, tucking themselves into bed, Mal says, “You told me I smell good last night.”

Alina pauses. “I did?”

The night comes back to her. She totally told him he smelled good, and she had closed the space between them on the bed, curling up right next to him. She remembers all of it, suddenly and painfully.

“Oh, saints. Mal, I’m so sorry. I didn’t . . . I shouldn’t have—”

He cuts her off. “It’s okay, ‘Lina. You don’t have to apologize.”

“I don’t?”

Mal smiles an amused smile and leans over, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “No, you don’t. Not you. Never you.”

Alina is almost positive she can hear her heart pounding as Mal reaches for something tucked in the drawer of his nightstand.

“For you,” he says, handing her a long rectangular box. “Saw it today when I was out with David and I just— I thought of you.”

She can’t even process the image of Mal and David out shopping together, needing to open this damn box. With shaky fingers, she lifts the lid. Waiting for her inside is a dainty necklace with a gorgeous gold sun charm.

“Oh,” she says softly.

Mal blushes, and this time, Alina notices. “Do you like it?” he asks. “I just thought of you singing last night when I saw it. You’re so bright, Alina. All the time. Just like the sun.”

She has no idea what this confession means, or how she earned it from drunkenly telling him how good he smells — which his really quite good — but her heart has kicked into overdrive. She isn’t sure what, or how, but she knows something’s starting right now.

“I love it, Mal.” She turns so her back is facing him and hands over the necklace. “Will you help me put it on?”

He wraps the chain around her neck. The sun rests perfectly against her heart. She notices every little brush of his fingers against the back of her neck as Mal works the clasp.

When the necklace is secure, they both lay back down, noticeably closer this time. Not as close as last night, but close enough that their arms occasionally brush, close enough that she’ll end up kicking him during the night. Alina sleeps on her right side.

Their trip might be ending tomorrow, but something better was beginning tonight.

#malina #malina fanfic #fanfic #grishaverse fanfic #writing #my writing #THIS IS DAYS LATE BUT I KEPT STARTING THIS OVER BC I WASNT HAPPY WITH IT #also tried writing in present tense which i rarely write in so excuse if it's a mess lmao #short and sweet and not my best imo but i hope u still like it bb!!#cuddlingwithharry #if u spot the song reference (besides the obvious) u r superior

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nicknellie · 3 years ago

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Anonymous requested: roommates Alex and Willie share a bed on the night of a storm and it becomes a habit, resulting with a confession and a kiss. (This was edited/simplified just to make it shorter.)

Sorry this has taken me so long to get round to! I absolutely loved the request and it was a joy to write, especially since I’m so stuck in my JatP feels for the anniversary. I’m always a sucker for a one bed trope too! I really hope you like it, thanks for the request!

Raging Storms and Lovesick Hearts

There were times that Alex wasn’t sure if moving in with Willie was the best decision he’d ever made or the worst. In many ways, it was a decision he would never go back on – living with Luke and Reggie had been fun during the day, but apparently neither of them had ever heard of sleep and decided to make that Alex’s problem, so now that he lived with Willie it was nice to finally know what it felt like to be well-rested. It was also great because he got to spend much more time with Willie, something he’d craved for as long as he’d known him.

But that was also sort of the worst thing about it all.

Being around Willie all the time was beginning to drive Alex a little bit insane. Not in a bad way, it wasn’t like he felt stifled or had grown bored or frustrated by Willie’s near-constant presence in his life. If anything, it was the opposite. Nowadays, he got to see every version of Willie, not just the smiley, put-together version he saw when they met up on odd weekends. Now he got to see tired Willie, just rolled out of bed, still unsteady on his feet from sleep; he saw even more of the kind, generous, fair Willie who offered to do the dishes whenever Alex cooked dinner; he saw the childishly exhausted Willie who crashed on the couch and slept for three hours every time he got back from the skatepark; he saw adorably sleepy Willie at night when it was nearing midnight and he was reluctantly going to bed, eyes already drooping closed; he saw paint-splattered Willie, brushes tucked behind his ears and shoved into his hair, headphones in, working tirelessly on some big piece that Alex admired every stage of; sometimes, he saw a version of Willie that made his heart ache, a broken version of Willie with tears running down his cheeks as he wiped furiously at his eyes as Alex did everything in his power to console him. He saw every version of Willie and he wanted them all so badly, but he couldn’t have any of them.

And sure, he’d brought this upon himself. When the guy he’d been pining over for exactly one year had asked if he wanted to move in, he could have guessed that it would ruin him, and he could have said no. It would’ve been easy.

But Alex had seen the smile on Willie’s face, the excited glint in his eye about the prospect of living together, and his affirmative answer had been out of his mouth before he’d given it a second thought. He was paying the price for his thoughtlessness now, condemned to watch Willie be anything but his for as long as they lived together. Frankly the whole thing was exhausting – he had to wonder if that was adding to him getting a good night’s sleep every night.

There was another reason he preferred nights now, not just because he could rest easily. Night was the only time he didn’t see Willie, the only time he could get a little respite from his aching heart, lie alone in the dark and pretend he was the only person on Earth. Maybe it was a little lonely and more than a little sad to think of things that way, but it was a change from his usual pining at the very least. He thought that having that time to escape his feelings was definitely doing him some good.

Until the night of the storm.

There had been warnings about it all week. Alerts popping up on Alex’s phone, breaking news plastered on every TV he saw, articles about finding shelter and stocking up on food just in case the storm was worse than they thought. It was only supposed to be a passing thing, been and gone overnight, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

It had been raining all day, a dismal drizzle, the kind of rain that was so fine you didn’t realise you were soaked until you felt your clothes sticking to your skin. But around midnight, everything kicked off. Alex lay in bed, toying with a fraying thread on the duvet cover, listening to the rain hammering against the windows hard enough to rattle their frames, the wind whistling as it bled through the streets outside, the claps of thunder loud enough to deafen as they came just seconds after bursts of lightning illuminated his entire room. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little bit frightened, but he curled up tighter in his bed, pulling the covers close, and tried to force sleep.

A knocking sound made his eyes snap open. At first, he wondered if he’d imagined it, or if it was the sound of something hitting his window, but then it came again. And yes, it was definitely a knock. A knock at his bedroom door. A knock on his bedroom door at half-midnight in the middle of a storm. And there was only one person it could be.

Alex stretched as he swung his long legs out of the bed and flicked his bedside lamp on. He pulled open the bedroom door, squinting in the sudden burst of light from the hallway, and was met by a timid-looking Willie with his hair braided back, wearing his pyjamas, fist still sheepishly raised as if to knock on the door again.

“Hey,” Alex said, voice low with fatigue. He tried to stifle a yawn as he scrunched his eyes, forcing the tiredness out of them. “Is everything okay?”

He must have not hidden his exhaustion as well as he’d tried because Willie winced before saying, “Sorry. Did I wake you up?”

“No, no,” Alex assured him, “I couldn’t sleep anyway. The storm is too loud.” Willie nodded awkwardly, casting his gaze around, seemingly trying to look anywhere but at Alex. It was strange – Willie wasn’t the type to avoid talking to someone, especially if it was Alex, who was suddenly left feeling very concerned. “Is it… Is that why you’re awake too?”

“Kind of,” Willie replied, a half-smile on his face that quickly flickered out of existence. He shook his head, taking a few steps back. “It’s silly. Don’t worry about it actually. I’ll go back to my room. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“Hey, no,” Alex protested, clutching Willie’s wrist as he tried to turn and walk away, stopping him in his tracks. Willie didn’t turn to face him, but did stop trying to leave, so Alex took that as a victory. “You could never bother me. And whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not silly.”

Slowly, Willie turned back around to face him, some mixture of hope and nervousness dancing in his eyes. When Willie looked down again, Alex followed his line of sight and saw that he still had a hold of Willie’s wrist. He dropped it suddenly, instantly aware that he’d been holding on too long and if he wasn’t careful Willie might take that to mean something that Alex definitely couldn’t have him knowing which would introduce a whole different kind of storm. (But before he let go, he could have sworn he felt Willie’s pulse racing; maybe it was his nerves, but maybe it was something else… something Alex didn’t want to get his hopes up about.)

“It’s just… I’m not really great with storms,” Willie admitted softly, meeting Alex’s eyes again. “They freak me out. I was just going to ask if I could… if I could, you know, sleep in here with you tonight? If it’s totally out of line you can say no, I get it, man, I won’t be up–”

Alex shook his head, not wanting to let him spiral, knowing that never ended up well for anyone. There was a pretty major part of him panicking over the fact that Willie was going to spend the night in his room, but that part was outweighed by the even bigger part of him that was worried and concerned for Willie, the part of him that wanted to protect Willie at all costs.

“No, no, it’s alright,” he said, interrupting Willie before he got too lost in his own head. “Come on, you can sleep in here. I don’t mind.”

It was only as the two of them backed into the room and Alex shut the door, blocking out all the light from the hallway and leaving them dimly lit by just his bedside lamp, that Alex remembered that his room was very small and ill-equipped for impromptu sleepovers. Which was to say, there was only one bed.

His internal panicking doubled in an instant. Because there weren’t many options here. He could make Willie sleep on the floor, which seemed incredibly harsh and unfair considering the state he’d just come to Alex in. He could sleep on the floor himself, which he really didn’t want to do because it would be cold down there and he didn’t like the idea of being able to see underneath his bed. They could relocate to Willie room down the hall where there was a small sofa that one of them (probably Alex) could sleep on, and they’d still be in the same room, but he knew they were both tired and switching rooms sounded like a lot of effort. Which just left sharing the bed, and truth be told, Alex was utterly terrified by the idea.

He was about to say something, ask Willie what he thought the best course of action was, but the words died in his mouth as he saw that Willie was already climbing into the bed. He already seemed much more at ease, the worry lines around his face softening as he closed his eyes. After yet another brief panic, Alex got into the bed again and laid down beside him.

He could hardly hear the raging storm over the incessant beating of his own lovesick heart.

The whole thing felt so intimate even though there was nothing overtly intimate about it. Really it was just one friend helping another, Alex being there for Willie when he was frightened, lending him a bed and a comforting presence. But they were so close, touching all along one side of Alex’s body, their breathing synced, the world around them slowly fading into nothingness until it was just the two of them.

After some time, it was impossible to tell exactly how long, Willie said, “Thank you, Alex.”

Alex sighed quietly, letting his eyes fall closed. He shuffled ever so slightly closer to Willie on the bed and as his tiredness overtook him he lost a little control over his inhibitions. Before he knew it, he’d thrown an arm around Willie’s waist, holding him close, their bodies curled together. When he registered what he’d done, he almost pulled away, but Willie relaxed into him so he let his arm stay where it was.

“Don’t mention it,” Alex whispered to the darkness around them. “I’m always going to be here whenever you need me.”

In moments, they were both asleep, the storm still raging outside.

When Alex woke up the next morning, the storm had all but died. He could still hear the gentle pitter-patter of rain drumming on the windows and roof, but the wind had long since ceased, as had the thunder and lightning that had lit up the night. He exhaled contentedly, relaxing against the warmth on the left side of his body, and nearly drifted off to sleep.

But then he realised what – or rather who – that warmth was.

The events from the night before came flooding back to his with all the ferocity of the storm itself. Willie coming to him in the middle of the night, how frightened he had seemed, how Alex had offered up his room, and how they’d fallen asleep tangled together. Now they had woken up in the exact same way, and Alex had no idea what to do about it.

If he moved, he risked waking Willie and that was a conversation he would rather avoid. But if he stayed still, Willie would eventually wake up and he’d still have to have that awkward ‘remember last night’ conversation. There was really no winning here. Even in a situation where he was cuddling the love of his life, he couldn’t come out unscathed.

So, he went for the slightly immature third option and opted to feign sleep, letting the whole thing be Willie’s problem whenever he woke up.

And eventually he did, not long after Alex. When Alex felt him stir and stretch, he tried to slow his breathing, keep his eyes closed only gently, and even let out a few fake little snores to try and sell the piece. His eyes were closed, so he had no idea if Willie even looked at him, but moments later Willie slipping out from his grasp and Alex heard the tell-tale creak of his bedroom door. Only when he heard it click shut did he breathe a long sigh of relief.

Honestly, he had thought that would be it. One night together and then Alex could get back to his nights of peaceful sleep. Only there were two things in the way of that:

One – suddenly, without Willie sleeping in his bed, Alex found that sleep was much harder to come by.

Two – after that night, Willie slept in Alex’s bed more often than not.

Alex really had no idea how it became so routine, but it did. About a week after the storm, Willie knocked on his door again and told Alex he’d had a nightmare, asking to sleep in his bed again. And who was Alex to refuse? So they’d slept in the same bed again, they’d woken up a tangle of limbs, and Willie had crept out while Alex pretended to sleep.

Then just two nights later, Alex’s resolve had broken and something had possessed him to go to Willie’s room and invite him back to his own. He had made up some flimsy excuse, something about his heater having broken and him needing warmth, but Willie hadn’t questioned it. They’d slept in the same bed again, they’d woken up a tangle of limbs, and Willie had crept out while Alex pretended to sleep.

And the very next night, they hadn’t even discussed it before the two of them just went straight to Alex’s room and climbed into bed together. They’d slept in the same bed again, woken up a tangle of limbs, and Willie had crept out while Alex pretended to sleep.

For something so focused on sleep, it was ridiculously tiring.

After it had gone on for a few weeks, Alex had to wonder if maybe this whole thing meant something. If maybe he wasn’t alone in his feelings. If maybe Willie felt the same, but had similar hang-ups to Alex – he didn’t want to ruin their friendship, didn’t want to embarrass himself by admitting to unrequited love, didn’t even know how to bring it up. Maybe sleeping by each other’s side had become something of a safety net for them, a teetering middle ground on the border of friendship and something else entirely.

And as Alex lay awake, head rested on Willie’s chest, listening to his heartbeat, he knew suddenly that he had to push it. No matter how much that frightened him, he had to take that leap and push them into the uncertain territory that was something other than friendship.

When he sensed Willie waking up, he did not pretend to be asleep.

He eased his head off Willie’s chest and rolled over to lay on his front, watching Willie as he blinked awake endearingly. Alex’s heart was practically beating out of his chest, but he knew he had to do it. He had to take that leap.

“Good morning,” he said quietly.

Willie smiled gently, rubbing at his tired eyes and pushing his hair out of his face. “Good morning, hotdog.”

“I think we need to talk,” Alex said without preamble. It wasn’t the most natural segue into the matter at hand, but that hardly seemed to matter right then.

Willie blinked, clearly a little surprised, but then he nodded. Alex took a deep breath, steeling himself, and let it out.

“I really like you, Willie,” he said, maintaining eye contact even though it was the most petrifying thing he’d ever done. “Like, a lot. So much that it’s been kind of driving me crazy for a year now. I’ve wanted to tell you how I feel for about a year now, but every time I tried all this doubt and anxiety just told me it wasn’t worth it and that you could never like me the way I like you. And I believed it. I never said anything, and I fooled myself into thinking I’d be alright if we were just friends. But after all this, sharing a bed almost every night and then pretending it never happened… it’s proved to me how much I need you. I can’t sleep without you next to me, Willie. I want you by my side all the time. All of you. So, if I’m not reading this whole thing dramatically wrong, then I want to finally ask you to… to be my boyfriend.”

For a long moment, Willie said nothing. He held eye contact, like he was searching Alex’s eyes for the truth, whatever it might have been. But Alex had said the whole truth. He’d let it all out, he’d told Willie he needed him. All he could do was hope that Willie needed him too.

The moment ended abruptly when Willie breathed out and almost silent, “Yes,” and then surged forward to kiss Alex.

He was kissing him.

This was a possibility that Alex had never allowed himself to entertain, a thought he’d never followed up, a scenario he’d never imagined. He had known that once he thought about kissing Willie, he would be ruined if it never happened. But the real thing was better than anything Alex could have thought up in his wildest dreams anyway. It was like a muffled explosion – both harsh and soft, near and far, dangerous and safe.

When they separated, Alex rested his forehead against Willie’s trying to get his breath back and his heartrate under control.

“I’d been wondering if I should say something,” Willie chuckled, stroking his fingers through Alex’s hair. “You beat me to it.”

Alex smiled and pressed another soft kiss to Willie’s lips. “Doesn’t matter. We got there eventually.”

The next morning when they both woke up in Alex’s bed, Alex didn’t need to feign sleep. He pressed a kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek and pulled him tighter. He thought that after months of missed opportunities, they definitely deserved a lazy morning in bed together.

#willex #jatp #alex mercer #julie and the phantoms #willie jatp #alex x willie #willie x alex #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #my writing #fluff #friends to lovers #only one bed #jatp fic #willex fic #first kiss #alive au

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7spaceace7 · 4 years ago

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Secrets (A Donatello x Reader)

This is incredibly self-indulgent and was really just a fic for me to obsess over tesla coils, but my girlfriend convinced me to post it- so here it is! It got kind of long too, but I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 3236

Reader is given feminine terms in this one

Mild cursing (thank you Raph)

Absolute fluff attack, the sweetness will rot your teeth

Singing was your greatest passion. From a young age, you had been roped into music, the emotions it could represent with just a few notes and some relatable lyrics. It was happiness, it was sadness, it was anger and excitement, and it was everything you couldn’t express well enough with just words. Being a writer, sometimes that would get frustrating, but music helped you overcome the most challenging spots in a new piece or story. This is why you would constantly have earbuds in as you sang along to every song you’d memorized on your Spotify shuffle.

And Donnie noticed this. Every time you would enter the turtles’ lair, he would see you unplug and pack-up your headphones. Hell, he was even able to detect your singing from the sounds of the sewer tunnels echoing with every step you took closer. He’d hear you talk about the music or soundtracks of your favorite games and movies, analyzing what every slight twinge or reprise would allude to. And he loved every part of it. He loved getting to see those moments where music was all you could focus on. Your heart rate rose exponentially in anticipation and excitement. Your eyes would screw shut while you broke into a grin. Your hands would mimic motions to the beat as you played on invisible drums, or strummed a nonexistent guitar.

It was adorable to him, to say the least. But he never told you so. He never said a word, in case this might scare you off for coming across as “creepy” or weird. He knew most people probably didn’t pay this close attention to little things like that, but then again, he also knew that most people weren’t madly in love with you.

Which Donatello was.

He couldn’t tell you, because once he started rambling about you, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop. And if he didn’t stop, then he’d run the 89.07% chance risk of telling you how he’d been in love with you since the day they met you. That was way too high for him to be comfortable. No, he couldn’t tell you, no matter how badly he wanted you to know.

“Okay, so what if you just show ‘er you’re interested instead?” Raph asked, half paying attention to his brother’s predicament, half pounding the punching bag before him into the ground. Leo was in the dojo meditating, and Mikey was playing video games in the living room, which left the two middle brothers to their own devices. For Donnie, this was literally. His three-fingered hands fiddled with his latest electrical circuit. It was bound for sending the right amount of voltage into his inventions without needing four power strips and a generator all on their own. Unfortunately, he was too distracted to actually delve into its components, and settled for breaking and piecing it back together again.

“Show her? How would I do that?” Donnie’s voice trembled at the thought.

“I dunno, you’re the genius here,” Raph huffed, “There’s gotta be somethin’ in this place that you think she’d find cool. She loves music, right?”

“Yeah, like a lot, she even-”

“Rhetorical question, Don, heard the rant plenty,” His brother cut him off. Pausing his violent onslaught of the dummy, he turned to face him. “You’re nervous ‘cause you ain’t ever done somethin’ for a pretty girl before, I get it. So do somethin’ you know you’re good at. That’ll take the nerves off, your plan works, and then I won’ have to listen to you babbling about whatever new fuckin’ thing she did today. Win win.”

The younger turtle paused. “That was...actually pretty sound advice, thank you, Raph.”

“Anytime,” Raph nodded, a smug smile tugging at his lips from being able to help. Problem was, now he was invested. He’d listened to his brother’s rants and rambles and failed plans of possibly confessing for weeks now, what was gonna happen once he finally did it? Raph plopped onto one of Donnie’s bean bag chairs. He didn’t bother to pick up the training dummy. “So what ya gonna do, smart guy?”

Donnie blinked a few times, glasses twitching on his nose as he pushed them up. He didn’t know it, but you coined this his “brainstorming face”. He fiddled with the circuits once again.

“Uh...I’m not sure,” His tongue went dry. A million ideas fly through his brain each minute, and this decides to be the time that he can’t think of a single one good enough. Figures. “I could build her something? Maybe a new stereo, or upgrade the one she has.”

Raph made a noise of disapproval. “You can do better, any old fix-it guy could do that.”

“Fair. Maybe I could- ow!”

A short buzz of the air cut him off as his fiddling paid off. To the world’s great irony, a light bulb several inches away lit up.

“You good?”

“Yeah, I’m good, I…” Donnie trailed off. The purple-clad turtle’s eyes widened as he registered what happened. “I’m better than good, I just had an epiphany!”

“Epipha-what?”

“An epiphany, sudden realization, an idea!” Donnie flicked his goggles back down, enhancing his vision with the magnifier on it. Wires were tugged in and out, and a transmitter was displaced. With a snort of triumph, he raised it to the air for his brother to see. “This is the answer!”

“A tiny board thing. Just what she’s always wanted,” Raph rolled his eyes, but Donnie was prepared for this.

“Not just a tiny board, a tiny board with this!-” With great haste, Donnie was next to Raph, holding the board out properly. “My side-side project, this little thing, look at the coil here, this is it! This is a tesla coil, capable of transmitting thousands and thousands of volts of energy surging through the air, powering anything within its radius, which is perfect and exactly why I needed to reconfigure it to power my lab and this one new machine I’m working on, but that’s not why this is the perfect idea!”

“Wow, please continue, professor, I’m dyin’ to know.”

“Glad you asked! Watch this!” One aux cord, T-Phone connection, and light-dimming later, the lab went dark in anticipation. And suddenly, with the press of a play button on Donnie’s shuffle, music started to fill the air. But it wasn’t coming from his phone. It was coming from the coils, surging and creating not only electric energy that was visible to the human eye as it sparked, but music. Sound. The beats and notes of the song playing sprouted out in the form of electricity.

Raph’s green eyes became transfixed on the sparks flying out. “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit is right!” Came the squeals of utter nerding out, “This is only a tabletop version of an SGTC circuit, my own type of it anyway based on Tesla’s original designs, but if I reworked it, made it bigger, made it lifelike and maybe four or five of them, I could create the most advanced musical performance this city has ever seen!”

“I’m gonna pretend I know everything you just said because clearly this is your nerd thing,” Raph started, utterly confused. Even still, a reassuring smile framed his features. “But this looks pretty damn cool. This right here? Exactly what ‘m sayin’, Don. This is you.”

“Do you think she’ll like it...?” Donnie asked in a hopeful voice. He wasn’t just asking about the invention.

“Course she will.”

~x~

A couple weeks had passed since that fateful conversation with Raph. He’d been in and out of the lab since then, but between patrols and the mandatory bathroom breaks, there was hardly a time he wasn’t working on his great new project. You weren’t even allowed to go into the lab, per his request, for all his time there.

However, he always made sure to make at least one movie whenever you’d come hang out at the lair from work.

Finally, one Friday night, the set up was complete. Pride swelled in Donnie’s chest as he looked at his creation: six symmetrically placed tesla coils sprung up from the ground and walls all around his lab space. The coilings wrapped around metal frames, spiraling into a beautiful arrangement of engineering, if he did say so himself. Mikey said it looked like the lasers out of a DC comic, which was also not a bad thing to be. He just hoped that you would like it. All of it was for you, of course, but over the weeks that he’d been preparing it, he found more beauty in the music of tesla coils than he ever had appreciated before.

Donnie thought he might thank you for that, if he could get his nerves around it.

God, he was so nervous. Anxiety rushed through his body like the electric pulses he was perfecting. They were already done, but it was all he could do to distract himself while waiting for you to arrive. Maybe the frequencies weren’t in the right key. What if they sounded better this way? Or maybe the firing power wasn’t enough? Trajectory looked alright, maybe it just-

“Donnie?”

“Gh! Y/N, hey!” Stammered the surprised terrapin after knocking his head against the top of a coil. His goggles were on the setting of night-vision, but that didn’t account for night-spatial-awareness, it seemed.

“I got your text to come,” You tried to smile at him, but the dark laboratory proved to make that difficult. “How come it’s so dark in here?”

“Uh, well, that’s p-part of the surprise! Eheh. Gimme just a second-”

You waited patiently outside of his lab, vision still applicable, but grew concerned the more strange noises and clangs you heard coming from inside. This was definitely a whole new level of “Donnie Surprises” just by how nervous he seemed about it.

You yelped when his hand grabbed your arm and dragged you back inside the darkness.

“Okay, uh,” He started, before clapping his hands together for the lights to switch back on, “This is what I wanted to show you.”

Your gaze spun all around the lab. After adjusting to the light, you could clearly see giant mechanism after mechanism placed strategically around in a dome-like setup. Coils that protruded like round-edged spikes circled you both, and in the center was a metal cage.

“Oh my god…” You almost whispered. A large grin broke out onto your face as you stared in quiet marvel at the scene. His plan was working, and Donnie lit up with an outstretched arm in presentation.

“These bad boys are called tesla coils-”

“Tesla coils!” You squealed in imperfect unison to what you assumed was the start of an explanation. “You made tesla coils, Donnie, holy shit!”

“You’ve heard of them?!” Donnie exclaimed, eyes widening behind his glasses.

“YES!” Your hands began to wave around excitedly, “Oh my god I used to be OBSESSED with these things! I heard about when I was a kid from that old movie, oh what was it, it was like the apprentice’s-”

“Sorcerer’s Apprentice!”

“THAT! Yes!”

“I haven’t seen that movie in years!”

“Me neither! All I remember is that Hiccup’s voice actor totally nerded out and programmed his giant tesla coils to play music for the girl he wanted to impress, and it was the coolest thing because these giant machines were playing music, music out of nothing but sparks of electricity at different frequencies, which to be honest probably would have caused more of an energy problem than the movie suggested because goddamn do they take up a lot of power, but I was like six and didn’t care!” You laughed in an energetic burst of word association, practically bouncing on the balls of your feet.

Donnie could have kissed you then and there for that alone.

A grin crept onto his lips as he watched you ramble on about the movie, leaving all anxious thoughts to fall from his mind. For once, someone actually understood one of his passions. Better than that, she was explaining the process to him of all people! Sure, she was intuitive enough to know he didn’t need it, he literally had just built them after all. This was just out of pure excitement. Someone in his life was talking about science and technology like they were the most fascinating things on the planet, just as the purple-masked turtle believed it was. Well, second only to the ecstatic girl in front of him.

“-And so, I randomly remembered it again not that long ago, so I looked it up and found so many videos on YouTube about it. I kid you not, I listened to tesla coils and tesla coils alone for a solid week.”

You breathed heavily, a little winded after such an intense info-dump. God, he always loved when you got excited about something.

“This is kind of surreal,” Donnie chuckled a bit, pushing up his glasses when they tumbled down his nose, “I had no idea you’d get what these were, much less have known so much about them.” Donnie’s eyes widened at his own panicked-fueled blabbering. “N-Not that I think you’re stupid! I just-- I mean it’s not-- common? It’s more of-”

“A niche interest, yeah. No worries,” You finished for him, signaling his stuttered words hadn’t fallen on offended ears. Donnie quietly sighed in relief. Time ticked by in seconds, but even that was much too fast for this martial artist to grasp. If he could have constructed a device to pause the fabrics of time, he would have long ago, simply to relish the moments with you that meant everything to him. It wasn’t your fault your eyes captivated him more than any element he’s worked with.

“So,” You began eagerly, startling him out of his thoughts, “Are we gonna listen to some zappy poles go brrr or what?”

Donnie snorted at your juvenile word choice. “Yeah, totally. Now, ah,” He walked over toward the large cage in the center, stepped inside, then poked his head out with a dorky grin. A large, green hand stood outstretched towards you. “I think you’d better step inside my cage.”

“If you keep quoting the damn movie like this, I am going to explode from excitement, and it will be your fault!” It was a wonder how you hadn’t caught onto his plan yet, honestly. You made no sense of hesitation before grabbing his offered hand (even though your hands were small enough that they hardly matched his palm’s size), and clambered into the cage in front of him. This was a great excuse for you to be close to him without it being weird. And now, with your back brushing up against his plastron, the butterflies in his chest told him it was totally a good call.

Donatello would take this secret to his grave, however.

“Put your hands on the rail here, yep just like that,” Donnie nodded after your hands found the safeguard rail. A couple buttons tapped into a laptop later, he settled his own hands next to yours. “Let the magic begin.”

Magic would have been the understatement of the year. A coil in front of you quickly shot out its first spark. Familiar music breached the sound barrier to your ears. The one behind you both caught it instantly. Spark after spark sent back and forth between the coils, soaring through the lab like the most incredible game of electric catch.

“Whoa!” You laughed when the sparks would bounce off the cage itself, pressing closer to the turtle behind you (much to his surprise every time). Your shining e/c eyes never left the electric bolts shooting out. “This is insane!”

“Heh, glad you like it!” Donnie watched you closely that entire time, more entranced by your excitement and wonderstruck self than anything he’d created. He could power up the tesla coils anytime of day, but this was a special moment he’d never be able to recreate in a controlled environment. This was no experiment, this was real and it was happening right now.

The only thing left to do was tell you how he felt.

“Y/N, I have to tell you something,” He began, stepping away to give you a bit of space. His heart rate was increasing by the second. The way you turned to look at him wasn’t helping, either.

“What is it?” You spoke softly, somehow able to be heard over the music. Donnie could hardly meet your eyes, so he took your hands in his instead.

“I...I don’t know how to say this exactly,” He started, “I’ve been trying to do it for months, going over every possible conjuncture of words, something that would be heartfelt and honest, poetic even? But the truth is, words aren’t my thing, th-they never have been. I’m a science guy, I take things apart and put them back together again, I figure out what makes them work, I see life as a million tiny parts to analyze.”

He paused his quickened speech to take a breath. Your hands squeezed his larger ones as an offer to continue.

“And so, I’m...bad at feelings. I see it all as chemicals and components used by the brain to create action and reaction. But now I’m not so sure if that’s all they are, and really the only thing I am sure about is that it’s because of you that I’m questioning everything I ever thought I knew. Maybe, maybe life is more than atoms and chemicals, and instead it’s about..moments. Moments like this. Moments that...that I..that I really want to keep forever and play over and over again.”

“Donnie…” You spoke. This time he squeezed your hands.

“I know I’m rambling and I should really get to the point, so what I’m trying to say is,” He took another breath, steady this time. His gaze met yours again. “I want to live these moments with you every day. You’re special to me. You’re part of our family, but this is more than that, this feeling is-”

“Love.” You finished for him. Both of your eyes widened as you realized the other felt how you each did.

Donatello nodded slowly, hesitant to be so certain, but knowing it was true. There were no more words to be exchanged after that, only actions, only movements so soft and gentle that the large terrapin was certain he’d break if they could fit in his hands. Your hands left his and instead reached up to grab the long ends of his mask, and tugged gently for him to reach you. He leaned down without a thought. A three-fingered hand found your waist this time.

You kissed. Soft, human lips connected to his slightly chapped reptilian ones. The turtle had waited for this moment since he realized the attraction he felt towards you was not just powerful chemical reactions, but true feelings. It wasn’t biology, it was chance and fate and one-in-a-million all at once. As the sparks continued to (literally) fly, Donnie let his eyes close. This was the present. He was here, he was holding a great new adventure in his hands, and there was a brilliant future just around the corner.

The song may have finished, but this is what would last forever.

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