#I would love to be paid extra for reading and commenting on books lmao

[annikin-annotates]

CamGirlAU - A Proposal

Hiya ya’ll sorry this has been a long time coming! I’ve been super sick and really had to put this on the back burner! It’s my first time writing smut all on my own lmao so please be kind to me! and I know I said this would be a CamGirl fic, but I’m thinking of incorporating Sugar baby/daddy dynamics in here also. either way I hope you enjoy it! also I’m giving my girl @whoahoney some love in this fic, pls follow her; she posts amazing Eddie fics and Stranger Things content.

Pairing: Modern!Aemond x Camgirl!Reader, Honey x Modern!Eddie Munson.

Warnings: Smut minors DNI, Sexual innuendos, Use of Wacky Baccy, Swearing.

Word Count: 4.5k

The incessant blaring alarm pulled her from her slumber for the third time this morning, she let out an exasperated sigh as she snatched the phone from the wireless charger on the bedside table. If she didn’t get up now she’d miss the train and it would then be a 40 minute uber and she wasn’t interested in forking out that much money. Throwing back the covers with a grunt, her legs stretching as she stood to stretch, she gave herself a once over in the floor length mirror in the corner of her room. Pulling on stockings and a black and grey skirt, tucking in a thick black sweater, and slipping on her well loved platform Mary Janes. Her laptop already sat in her bag along with its charger and a book to read - she had the forethought to pre pack her bag the night before, which meant she had time to tie the top section of her hair into a little bun. She headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth before grabbing her bag and her over ear headphones from the stand on the edge of her desk. taking the stairs two at as time as she swiped her keys from the bowl on the kitchen bench yelling a quick “See ya!” to her roommate who was simply known as ‘Honey’.

Winter in Kings Landing was certainly setting, the brisk breeze as she stepped out of the run down apartment in Flea Bottom sending a jolt through her body. letting muscle memory take over as she put her headphones on and made her trek to the station. It was bustling as usual, not that she could care, she had places to be - and luckily she made the train in time, no free seats though; standing it would be. Scrolling aimlessly through social media filled the time, sending out a post on her cam socials

‘Going live tonight my sweets, hope to see you all there.

Planetary_M0ans xx’

There’s nothing that will ever top the satisfaction of watching all the likes, comments and Dm’s roll in. This whole thing started after a particularly terrible breakup, he had called her a prude and she too that personally. When she first started it all - it freaked her out; all the attention from men, she was shy and prior to her first stream had never even taken a nude picture of herself. Now she was ‘Out pasting her pussy on the sidewalk’ as Honey would say; with the most love and respect. Honey was one of her only friends who had stuck around after the break up, picked her up out of her pity party and into what she had called her ‘Villain Era’. Said Villain Era consisted mostly of eating terrible microwaved mac and cheese and posting thirst traps online; and getting paid. So it all worked out in her favour she would say.

The train came to a screeching halt as she got off at her stop, it was only a five minute walk from where she was so sh wasn’t going to be terribly late to class. The door of the lecture hall clicked closed behind her as she quickly found a seat in the back of the room and opened her laptop, beginning to take notes. At least it was an interesting class - Homicide; The class always brought something different each week and the lecturer didn’t act like he was being held at gun point to be there. The single buzz of her phone in her hand pulled her from her focus, she unlocked her phone to see a message from one of her regular viewers Sunfyre96;

‘Wear that red set, you look delicious in it. I’ll tip extra’

Her eyebrow raised, she knew the set they were talking about it wasn’t the first time he had suggested it.

‘Of course! anything else, My King?’ she responded, they had requested that they only be referred to as ‘My King’ the first time they spoke; and he tipped big, it worked for her. The speech dots appeared and disappeared several times she knew he was trying to come up with a snarky response but only returned with ‘Good, I’ll transfer before the stream’. She double tapped the message to heart it ‘Thank you, My King’ was all she responded with before locking her phone; focusing on the lecture once more.

Once again she was thrust into the cold as her lecture finished, she made her way down the steps of the lecture hall and across the Quad to one of the several campus coffee shops. She rubbed her hands as she waited in line rehearsing what she wanted to order, she stepped up to the counter the man at the counter flashing her a smile “Hello! What can I get for you today?” he asked cheerily. She smiled back at him “Uh Yeah Hi, can I please get a Hot chocolate on oat milk and a blueberry muffin please?” she asked, digging out her card from her wallet, half watching him punch in the order. Pressing her card to the reader, the little beep letting her know it had processed, she gave him another smile as she stepped off to the side to wait for her drink.

Once she had received the rich sugary drink that fuelled her very body and her muffin she would save for a snack later, she began her walk to the station to head home. Putting on her headphones as soon as she sat on the uncomfortable arcade floor patterned seats and sipping her drink, staring out the window thinking about all the things she had to do be for the stream. She decided to be a courteous roomie and send Honey a text,

‘Hi my love, Just letting you know that I’m doing aa spicy stream tonight. Just wanted to be a good roomie and let you know xx’ She replied almost instantaneously ‘If King Sunfyre needs a second, you know where to find me x’, she stifled a snort as the text came through, She could always count on her friend to be accepting. The ride home felt much quicker than the ride that morning, the luke warm heating of the apartment foyer taking some of the chill off her bones. she gave the lady at the front desk a wave, to which she received a sour look and a raised eyebrow over the rim of her purple glasses frames. She cringed at the look and started up the stairwell to the apartment, her keys jiggled in the door as she struggled with the lock, it tended to get jammed on chillier days. Finally shouldering the door open she was met with the smell of weed and patchouli candles, she couldn’t help but smirk at the fact that her friend probably had a certain curly haired puppy eyed boy over.

She didn’t bother with calling out, not wanting to disturb whatever was going on in her roommates room. A quick tidy up of her room was the first chore off the list, laying out the requested red set and snapping a picture and sending it to the requester;

‘The red set, as requested. My King’. There was no response, only the ping of her bank account getting a deposit; she went to check on the amount, thinking it would only be $20 like it usually was. Her breath hitched in her throat s she saw not just two but three zero’s “What do you mean $200?!” she exclaimed, immediately sending her gifter a thank you note, and an attached special picture. Before almost slamming Honey’s door open “I’m sorry for interrupting whatever-the-fuck is going on in here but Sunfyre96 just paid me $200!”. Both Honey and her friend jumped in fright, the brunet trying to hide the glass bong behind his back, no doubt spilling bong water on the floor. Honey gasped “No fucking way! he did not!”, all she could do was nod frantically and show her the bank account “Sushi is on me fella’s!” she laughed, so giddy that she was shaking. Her friends toasted counter part grinned at her “Hell yeah, dudette. Get on that grind” he high fived her, she returned the favour. “Anyway! that’s the good news, I’ll see you guys at like 8pm!” she smiled, closing the door behind her and heading back to her room.

Making quick work of cleaning her room and setting up her equipment, making sure everything was clean before changing into her set for the night. She pulled on a silky robe for her own modesty turning on her setup, ring lights, soft box and back drop that hides the rest of her room from prying eyes. Logging into her computer and opening spotify and pressing play on her chosen playlist for the night. Before she stepped back into the mirror to look at herself, the chosen set was stunning; a deep blood red boning and lace a nude mesh not leaving much for the imagination between her legs. But the bra of the set was a quarter cup, so her breasts sat almost uncomfortably high, her nipples nearly popping over the edge of the cup - there was sure to be a nip slip tonight. Not one to waste too much time, she logged into he streaming platform and her work socials and keyed in all the appropriate information before sending out that a link would be dropping in fifteen minutes. Though she sent an early access link to a few of her higher tier subs for a private pre-show, which was mostly just chatting to a few lonely men and women, though some she came to genuinely enjoy.

Taking the spare few minutes she had to pop on a pretty red lip, her patrons loved when her pretty little lips got all smudged - Their words, not hers. And a matching red bunny mask, she didn’t need anyone finding out her identity. As promised she spent the first fifteen minutes talking to her higher tier subscribers, laughing at their jokes and making sure they were well taken care of. She sent out the secondary link - already having it queued to go out after the fifteen minutes was up, her chat exploded with messages and suggestions. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, “Yes, Yes. Hello my loves! How are you all? I appreciate you all coming by tonight! Let’s get started shall we?” She asked.

Luckily she had bought a sit to stand desk making use of the adjustable settings to get that perfect height, she hooked each of her legs over the arm of her chair causing her tummy to scrunch up. Exposing her clothed core to the camera - running a delicate manicured finger down the centre of the mesh slowly, watching some of the messages roll by each one making a little ping. “Take it off?” she asked innocently “I’ll take it off if we can get my tip jar to $300, I’ll be good to you I promise” she continued, rubbing small circles over her clit, her eyes rolling back in pleasure. Unsurprisingly they surpassed the goal set by well over $600, “Aw! Thank you so much my loves” her voice came out sickly sweet. Unhooking her legs from the chair and standing once more “Can we just admire how stunning this set is? Thank you again to Sunfyre96 for their generous donation. I hope I’m doing it justice” she said to the camera, turning around and bending down. Exposing the soft rounds of her ass as she hooked her thumbs on each side of the band and shimmying it down her legs, she was smart enough to wear her thong over her garter so the pretty stockings and garter remained but her pussy was now fully exposed.

She ran a hand over her ass before giving herself a squeeze before sitting once more, hooking her legs over her chair once more. Her heat was now on full display in all its glistening beauty, she ran two fingers along the slit before circling her clit, she leant her head back against the chair, her toes curling in pleasure “Ugh, fuuuck” she moaned. She picked up the pace feeling that familiar bubble in the pit of her stomach form, though her fingers just weren’t cutting it - reaching for the basket beside her chair pulling out her tried and true wand. She was so used to using it that she didn’t even really need to look to see if it was turned on before she held it to her aching button. Switching her wand to her non-dominant hand using her centre two fingers to sink into herself, she couldn’t contain her moans from that point on.

Oh Gods!

Oh Fuck!

I’m gonna cum!

The ever tightening coil in her stomach finally snapped, she rode out that glorious high with her lip between her teeth - though she was sure the apartment three doors down would have heard her by now. When the slight numbness in her body died down, she leant forward to check the chat which was now flooding with comments taking the time to thank each person personally for their donations. “Thank you for coming by my loves! I hope you all had a wonderful time, I will see you later in the week” she said sweetly, blowing a kiss to the camera and ending the stream.

An exasperated sigh escaped her lips as she stood to clean herself up, putting on a fresh pair of leggings and black thigh high socks with an oversized shirt, a half faded band name printed on the front of it and tour dates on the back. Grabbing her phone from her desk and taking it with her to Honey’s room - making sure to knock this time. Honey and her scruffy haired friend were known to have relations from time to time; it was better for her to be safe than sorry. Only entering when she heard Honey tell her to come in, both of them were under the covers, Honey’s hair was disheveled as she laid on her friends chest; she bit back her grin. “Do you guys still want sushi? I’m sure you both have worked up an appetite” she winked, both of them nodded “Just come down stairs and I’ll order it when you guys are ready” she smiled, closing the door behind her and heading down stairs.

She snatched the tv remote from the table changing it to some lofi on YouTube as she sunk into the worn couch with a loud sigh. A soft tail brushed up against her leg, the near silent plop her feline companion made was more than enough to make her heart squeeze. She stroked the soft fur as she posted on her socials;

‘Thank you all again for joining me tonight, As always I appreciate every single one of you!

Planetary_M0ans xx’

The sound of two sets of thumping feet were coming down the stairs, pulling her attention away from her phone and back into reality. Two grinning faces appeared in to the room, eyes hazy and cheeks flushed and sticky; she raised her brows and gave Honey a knowing look as they made their way to the two seater adjacent to hers. The apartment wasn’t in terrible condition, the walls were that weird shade of beige with a satin finish that always made them feel sticky, the flooring was wood up until the kitchen; where ugly apricot tiles started - they were only in the kitchen which was vaguely annoying, why not just keep the hardwood? “-getting?” She caught the tail end of Honey’s question, “Huh?” she questioned shaking off the fog clouding her brain “What are we getting?” Honey asked with a half laugh. Shaking her head once more and opening her phone “Ya’ll still want sushi right? Or we could get burgers?” she asked without looking up. An excited “Oh!” was heard from her companion, looking over the rim of her glasses, her smirk hidden by her phone; Honey snorted at his reaction “Burgers please, oh kind ruler” she laughed, it was one that came from the depths of her throat.

They passed around the phone each of them taking turns in ordering what they wanted from the local burger joint - Joey’s. They all sat and chatted for a while, exchanging giggles and jokes until Honey’s scruffy haired companion - Eddie, broke the giggles “Hey, I uh gave your phone number to my Uncle. You said you were an accountant and I told him you were really good at your job and could help him file his taxes” he said with a sheepish grin. Both her and Honey stared from each other, to Eddie and then back to each other before bursting into a fit of racious laughter. “E-Eddie! That’s not the type of accountant she is!” Honey cackled, slapping him on the arm playfully, “There’s other kind’s of - Oh.” he began before cutting himself off, his face flushing. He looked to the girl opposite him, as she wiped the tears from her eyes with the inside of her shirt “I’m sorry - I” he stammered. She waved him off hardly containing her laughter “It’s no problem at all dude, but I would fuck up your Uncles tax so bad. I’ll send you the details of my actual accountant later though” she chuckled.

Her eyes rolled back in pleasure as she took that first bite of her burger, chasing it with a mouth full of fries “My fucking god! Joey’s never fails us!” she groaned. Her roommate giggled at her “Praise Joey, King of the grill!” she praises in between bites of her own burger, Eddie on the other hand was so consumed in his burger that he said absolutely nothing the entire time, choosing to focus his attention wholly on the food in front of him. “Praise Joey!” she laughed, the three of them had spent many a night drinking and stumbling into Joey’s grill for a late night burger. Sighing in contentment as she popped the last part of her burger in her mouth, slapping both hands on both her legs and getting ups with a sigh “Well! I’m going to shower and go to bed, I’m tired as heck” she said with a yawn.

The steaming water soothed her body and she stepped into the shower and letting her shoulders drop and throwing her head into the water. She spent a while washing and conditioning her hair, and moisturinging after she got out she slipped into her favourite pajama's; yellow and black tartan bottoms and a plain black shirt. The hardwood creaked as she padded across the hall to her room, closing the door behind her as she stepped inside and flicking the light off. She crawled into bed under the cover of darkness and opened her phone once she was situated, there was a notification of a message through Instagram;

Legacy_98 sent you a message request

this’ll be good she thought to herself as she opened her insta and read the message; Hello, I viewed your live stream tonight. I want to know if you would be interested in an arrangement?

Her brows furrowed, she exited out of the message and looked at the profile, no followers, no following and no posts - suspicious. She was very familiar with the type of person she was dealing with here, a total fake - these guys really have to try harder. Switching back over to the message she began to reply; Sure! what did you have in mind? She hit send and exited out of the app, choosing to scroll on TikTok instead.

less than two minutes later came a response; I would like to pay you for private calls and for you to accompany me to events, set your price. I will pay. Her eyebrows rose now she was intrigued, I don’t usually take private clients. She responded. The response bubble popped up You seem to give Sunfyre96 special treatment Was all he responded with, an incredulous laugh escaped her before she replied again. Bold words for someone requesting my services she retorted, her chest puffing at her snarky response I’ll pay you $2,000 a call.

“He’ll pay what?!” Honey exclaimed from the kitchen, watching the breakfast sausages she had sizzling in the pan. “He said he would pay 2k every phone call!” she replied, Honey turned to her friend, the tongs still in her hand “And what did you say?” she pressed. “I said yes - but only if he could provide proof he had the funds!” She said, putting her hands up in mock surrender. Honey’s brows rose higher - if that was even possible, “And how did he do that?” she questioned, turning back to the stove to take the sausages off the heat. “…He paid me 3 grand up front…” she mumbled, Honey’s head whipped around so fast she was sure her friends neck would break “What!” she cried, nearly dropping the plate full of breakfast sausages. She shrugged “I mean yeah, like it’s no biggie if this guy want’s to spend his money on me” she tried to play it cool but her insides were just about vibrating. Honey sighed heavily “If you’re sure about it - just be safe and don’t be stupid about it. Keep your head screwed on; I don’t need another messy girl on my doorstep”. She pressed her hand to her chest in offence “I’ll have you know that this is my apartment!” she laughed “But I will, I promise. that won’t happen to me again” she finished, loading her plate with some eggs, a pancake, some bacon and some breakfast sausage. They both ate together in silence “Where’d Eddie go?” she asked her friend softly, a soft sigh escaped her “Oh - uh, He’s at band practice. They are hoping to be picked up by talent scouts at their next gig” Honey responded, swallowing the hunk of pancake in her mouth.

Nodding to her friend as she thought for a moment, “Why don’t you go and surprise him? take him lunch or something, that’d be cute” she offered, as she stood up and walked to the kitchen to wash her plate. There was a pause, “Hmm, I might. I dunno” Honey replied softly, Her friend rose her eyebrow “What’s the matter?” she asked, taking her friends hand and leading her to the couch. Honey sat with a loud sigh and threw her legs across her friends “I don’t know, I just don’t think we’re going anywhere. Like - I invite him over, we, you know…And then he acts like he’s oblivious to what’s going on” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. She sat for a moment to formulate what she needed to say, “Well - If you feel he isn’t giving you the attention your relationship deserves, have a talk to him about it! you never know, he might not know he’s doing it. and if not; There are plenty of hot guys out there! this is Kings Landing!” she smiled, rubbing Honey’s calf soothingly. “You know what? You’re right - life’s too short to do this stupid little dance, I’m going Up-Town right now” Honey said trying to hype herself up.

About twenty minutes later she was left all alone in the apartment, laying on the couch staring at the ceiling - doing nothing. She had tidied the kitchen and done the dishes by the time Honey had left to confess her undying love to Eddie - so she was left with not much to do. Just as she was about to fall sleep; her phone buzzed on her stomach, she picked it up to see a message from Legacy_98;

Are you free to call right now? I would like to talk about our arrangement. She could feel her heart beginning to race as she began to type Uh yeah, sure. Give me two seconds and I’ll call. Quickly jogging up the stairs and into her room, closing the door behind her, perching herself on the side of her bed; pressing the little call icon on the app.

It rang once, twice and picked up on the third ring; “Hello?” a deep, smooth voice asked “Hello, am I talking to Legacy98?” she asked softly, a little unsure of herself. A beat of silence followed the question, “Yes, I am.” was all he said, “Not much of a talker, are you?” she quipped light heartedly. He let out a soft chuckle - the kind that just comes from your nose “No - I suppose I’m not” he responded, a smile toying at the corners of his lips. A sigh escaped her - “Well, my name’s Kit, It’s nice to meet you. I like long walks on the beach and eating shredded cheese from the bag when I’m sad” she wasn’t exactly sure where they reply came from but the rumble of a chuckle over the phone made her smile. A short silence followed as if in contemplation, “My name’s Aemond -” the following sentence that garbled over the phone line fell of deff ears, surely they were joking right? right? Shaking the stunned silence from her throat with a cough “Um, I’m sorry - I didn’t catch that, you said your name was Aemond - right? as in -”. He cut her off, his smooth voice overlaying her own “As in Aemond Targaryen”. Aemond said it as if he and his family weren’t house hold names and constantly on the front pages of magazines, there were fan pages online dedicated to this man. He could feel the tension on the phone line “All I ask is that you come to one event with me, all you have to do is act as arm candy. I’ll pay for all the expenses. If you find you still don’t want to do this - we can go our separate ways”.

Her eyebrows rose as a smirk spread across her face “Deal” was all she said, he made a sound somewhere in-between an acknowledgement and a grunt before he hung up.

Legacy_98: Meet at this address tomorrow at 8am, do not be late.

Planetary_m0ans: I won’t.

She flopped back onto her bed, a satisfied grin on her face and a thrumming in her ears. Things just got a hell of a lot more interesting.

taglist: @adelusionalwriter @princesssszzzz @chainsawsangel @poppyreader @sahanna @hopelesswritergall @arcielee

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond fluff #aemond headcanons #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond imagine #aemond fanfiction #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #hotd aemond #aemond x fem!reader #aemond smut #aemond stannies #modernhotdau #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #house targaryen #eddie x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie stranger things #alicent hightower

[annasinterests]

don't look at me like that unless you mean it

so i get out of bed ♫ put on my shoes and in my head

|| series masterlist || main masterlist ||

a/n: going back and revising can either be the best or worst thing in the world i stg lmao. i'm honestly surprised with how quick i got this one out?? anyway, thank you all for the likes and reblogs so far on this series! i hope you're all enjoying where the story is going!! if you have any questions, comments, or even suggestions (even if its like grammatical stuff), please let me know bc i'd love to hear some feedback <3

word count: 4.1k (where da freak did that come from?!)

pairings: joel miller x f!reader

warnings & tags: minors dni, angst, reader midkey being a little shit, reader also being a mom, swearing, lil fluff here n there, pining, looming threats — please tell me if i missed anything!

Winter turned to spring.

Spring turned to summer.

And Ellie found her purpose again.

She volunteered to help all around Jackson when she wasn’t out on patrol with you or Joel, going above and beyond what was expected of her. At least twice a month, the three of you would go over to Tommy and Maria’s for family night, consisting of food and games for a couple hours. Sometimes even Dina, her now-official girlfriend, and Jesse joined– At Ellie’s request, of course.

You tried your best to have meals as a family, taking the time to share details of the day or week, or simply just enjoying each other's presence in silence. Ellie had made it a point to spend time with you and Joel separately once a week outside of work, whether it’d be having lunch, going for a walk, or watching a movie together.

It was like life breathed into her, and your house felt like home again.

Whenever you’d get lucky enough to all be home at the same time, the three of you would be in the living room together but be occupied with your respective interests. Joel would be on the couch with a guitar and rag in hand, delicately cleaning and polishing the instrument, while Ellie sat on the window seat across the room with her notebook and pencil. You’d be curled up on your reading chair between them with your nose in a book while cradling either a mug of coffee or tea. Sometimes the quiet would be broken by Ellie peering up from her art and seriously prompting Joel with a question that was so obviously from her book of puns and you'd watch as she eagerly waited for him to take the bait. You couldn't tell what was better, when Ellie would make herself crack up, or watch Joel shake his head in disbelief with a grin on his face. The best, though, was when Joel would answer with the punchline and laugh as he watched Ellie's face fall with contempt.

Things had just fallen back into place.

The general rule in Jackson was that everything had a set schedule and was planned in advance, no matter how big or minuscule it was. So when Maria had called in for all patrol, leaders, and committee members to meet at first light this morning, you knew it had to be something important.

On your walk over to town hall, you took the extra time to appreciate your surroundings. The sun shined a bit brighter, and the air felt fresher. The trees were regaining their green leaves in full, and weeds sprouted in the cracks of the streets and sidewalks. You waved to fellow settlers sitting on their porches and drinking their morning cups of coffee, many of whom you’d come to know as good friends.

The room filled up quickly and the air hummed with anticipation and light conversation. People arranged themselves according to their role in Jackson, but you only paid attention to the groups you belonged to: The committee, who sat before the podium, and patrol, who lingered near the back. And it just so happened that you were administration duty this week, so you took your seat in the front row. You scanned over your shoulder for Joel and spotted him off in the corner with Tommy, in what seemed like typical brotherly conversation. The two faced each other, Tommy talking passionately about something while Joel shook his head in annoyance, which slowly turned to reluctant nods and a hand up in defeat. You wondered what he’d been going on about.

Your attention was drawn back to the podium by the tapping sound of the microphone that was amplified through the speakers, Maria's favorite way of commanding the room's attention. But when you looked at her, she wasn’t her typical self. In all meetings, planned or not, she always exuded an unmatched confidence and possessed a let's-get-to-business attitude. That she wasn’t phased by the sheer amount of responsibility that rested on her shoulders, being the backbone of Jackson.

But now, something was off. She was bothered, and it showed. Her hands that normally folded in front of her now gripped the sides of the podium with such a strain that you could see her knuckles turning white and her thumb repeatedly scratching at the wood. Her eyes anxiously darted around the room, looking at all the bodies staring back at her, but not really seeing them.

"Thank you all for being here on such short notice," she tried to mask her concern with a bright smile, "I wanted to bring you all together to discuss an important development that has come to our attention."

She paused for a moment, as if to reel in everyone's attention moreso, though it was probably more for herself. You tilted your head and squinted at her as she nervously peered around again, wondering what the hell had gotten into her.

"Recently, some of our patrol has been encountering a group little ways beyond our walls,” she allowed her words to sink in, “but they’re not like our usuals– they’re more organized. Dangerous.”

And? Jackson’s dealt with savagery before, what’s so different now? Maria glanced at you briefly, as if she heard your thoughts.

“They pose a significant threat to us. One greater than we’ve ever seen, and one that we cannot underestimate.”

Without missing a beat, you looked over your shoulder between the sea of people that were exchanging uneasy looks and words for Joel, finding his eyes on you. He shared the same apprehensive expression as you did, with steady eyes and scrunched brows.

Maria held up her hand to quiet the murmur that had rippled through the room before speaking again, but you drowned out her words. The most you were able to put together was something about unsettling information, the community being built on unity and resilience, and stricter security measures.

For all the times you came across people, how many of them had been the company that played a hand in this? How many times had you walked away from someone who harbored ill intentions? How many times had you unwittingly brushed shoulders with death at the hands of these people?

You sat still as ever, eyes locked in front of you, but your body was beginning to shut down as more thoughts crammed themselves into your head. Your heart rate picked up, being able to feel the pulse just about everywhere, and your vision began to blur in and out.

Your hand ghosted over the void in your stomach. You could handle being out there. Fuck, you could come to terms even getting caught out there. But it made your blood run cold knowing that Joel was out there facing those same risks as you, and– fuck– even Ellie too.

One question still lingered: What was it about this group that set them apart from the rest?

“Hey sweetheart-” you were startled by the sudden hand on your knee, jerking your head to the left to look at the woman next to you, Charlotte. She frowned at you, “Are you alright?”

“I’m-” you shook your head to a nod, “I’m- Yes. I am.” She didn’t look convinced, but didn’t pry either. Instead, she gently placed her hand on top of yours.

You liked Charlotte, and not just because you had to for the sake of the committee, because God, there were quite a few that fell under that obligation. You actually respected her. She was sweet and southern as they made them, and everything she did was always handled with grace and poise. You’d also be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t slightly envious of her. To be soft and benevolent well after the end of the world? You could only wish to be those things.

“Well, if it’s alright with you, I could really use Ellie’s help at the school today.” She took her free hand and gestured about the room, “Just ‘ought to prep some things in light of all.. this.”

You placed your hand on top of hers, "Ellie would love to."

“And have Dina go too,” she gave a warm smile and squeezed your shoulder as she stood. She leaned down as if she was confessing a secret, sending you a wink. “I’ve always liked those two.”

It was when she walked away that you noticed the meeting had ended. People were standing clustered in groups, and you were unable to decipher what each conversation had really been about as you were preoccupied with finding Joel before heading out.

He’d still been near the back with Tommy and other patrolmen Samson, Milo, and- oh, great- Fitz.

You’d been paired up with Fitz on several occasions, only getting to know him well enough to stand him for an entire shift, but still struggled to do so. He was a patrol leader around your age, but still acted like he was in his twenties, in the sense of that he wanted to fuck every woman available in Jackson. Every time you’d turn him down, he’d have another girl on his arm the week after, and then a different one after that. And just when you thought he’d given up, he made his rounds back to you in hopes that you’d give him a chance to get in your pants.

Tommy's back had been to you, the four men around him listening to whatever story he'd been telling. You gently patted his shoulder and you stepped beside him so as not to spook him, to which he pulled you in for a side hug/cheek kiss combo and quick good mornin' as he carried on his story. Joel had been on the end of the semi-circle of men, leaving you a spot to settle in next to him. When Tommy got to the height of the tale, the three men erupted in laughter, Joel only shaking his head with a curled lip.

In a moment of reprieve, Fitz took the opportunity to draw the attention to you with a mischievous grin.

“Miler, how’s it that you’ve got the most beautiful woman in Jackson livin’ under the same roof as you, and yet you won’t even claim her?”

Fitz’s tongue poked his cheek as Joel’s jaw tightened at the slight. You caught Tommy giving Joel a smug look before looking down at his feet to hide it. He’d teased Joel for the same thing before, but never as direct or harsh, and definitely not in front of other people. Fitz redirected back to you, “Listen, if he won’t touch ya', I’d be happy to-”

“Who said he didn’t?”

You wanted to punch yourself in the throat immediately, but the wild look on Joel’s face made the lie so fucking worth it. You kept the smirk on your face and stared at Fitz until he grew uncomfortable enough to break contact, ignoring the wide eyed expressions from the rest of them.

“You could probably take some pointers, honestly.” You jerked your thumb at Joel.

Joel continued to burn holes into your head as Tommy, Milo, and Samson tried to stifle their laughter. Fitz rolled his eyes as a redness spread on his cheeks, mumbling an insult and withdrawing himself from the group. You smiled and bit your lip as you watched him walk away, letting out an airy laugh once he was out of sight.

“So, when were you guys gonna-” You and Joel both gestured defensively at Tommy as excuses fell out of your mouths by the second.

“No! We’re not-” you glanced at Joel quickly. “No. That was just to get Fitz to quit his shit.”

Knowing Fritz’s reputation, Tommy didn’t require anymore persuasion, saving you from having to over-explain yourself and wind up looking like a fool in the process. “Well.. we're havin' a thing at the Bison on Friday. Why don't you come down?"

You raised an eyebrow at him, looking at Joel for confirmation if you heard him correctly. “Shouldn’t we.. I don’t know, not be having a thing? Especially after what Maria just said?”

Tommy nodded his head and sighed, knowing exactly that’s what the invitation sounded like. “It’s not- It’s supposed to be a.. morale booster, fuckin’ whatever– it's Maria’s idea, not mine. I'm just supposed to get the word out."

While it felt a little odd, you could understand why she wanted to do it. "I don't know, Tommy, I-"

"Great! See y'all there!" Tommy smirked as he looked between you and Joel and began to walk away. You turned to Joel with disbelief, but he was unphased, conveying how Tommy had roped him into this way before you walked over.

As the room emptied out, you all took it as your cue to leave and begin tending to your responsibilities for the day. Joel had disappeared too quickly for your liking, but you didn’t have the time to sit and chat with him either.

You stopped home to find Ellie, Dina, and Jesse in the kitchen eating breakfast together, chuckling at the idea of the other two essentially being your adoptive children as well for how much they were over.

Ellie offered you a strawberry off her plate and inquired about the meeting with genuine curiosity. Carefully, you explained to them the importance of being aware of their surroundings for the next couple of weeks, and to not stay out past curfew no matter where they were. Meaning if they needed to crash at your house for the night, so be it, and so on and so forth. They found your propositions to be odd, understandably as you didn’t give the proper context as to why, but nonetheless they didn’t question you.

"So.. are you going to the thing on Friday?" Jesse’s inquiry took you by surprise.

"How do you know about the thing on Friday?" You asked like a mother asking her child about something they weren't supposed to know about.

"I ran into Fitz before I got here.”

You rolled your eyes. Fuckin’ Fitz. Of course he’s going. You shifted your weight against the counter, crossing your arms. "Yeah, I am. Why?"

"'Cause we were gonna sneak in if you weren't." Dina mumbled behind her glass of juice.

You tittered at her honesty, your eyebrows now furrowed together. "And why would you guys have to sneak in?"

"Because Fitz said that Uncle Tommy said it was only for adults? Like, older than us." Ellie gestured to the other two and shot you a look of confusion, like you were already supposed to know.

Your expression stayed the same, but your eyes shifted around the room as you thought about the new fact she presented you.

Huh. Only for adults.

Your mouth closed and curled up. It was on brand for Tommy to not have added that important piece of information.

Ellie watched as the gears turned in your head, but you didn't give her the opportunity to pick at your brain as you changed the subject to Charlotte's request.

“Well, Ms. Charlotte needs you two to help her today.” You pointed your fingers at the girls, who shared an excitement to be with the kids. Keeping one finger on them, you averted the other to Jesse. “And you need to get ready to head out, Mr. Almost-Patrol-Leader.”

The kids rushed to clean up their dishes and grab their bags to get to it. Before running out the door, they each gave you their own special way of saying goodbye.

“Thanks for letting me eat your food!”

“See you later, love you!

“Love you more than Ellie does!”

You beamed at the door after it closed.

For some reason, you thought Joel would've been home. You imagined that if he had been present for the conversation, he definitely would've dropped a sarcastic remark somewhere to illustrate his dismay for Fitz or the party. But he wasn't, and it made you feel off.

You were still leaning against the counter in deep thought, feeling.. oddly familiar in the spot. It had only been months ago when you stood here, tea in hand, sharing a.. moment.. with Joel. You stared at the empty space where he had left the jar of honey that morning, a memory of yet another stolen moment.

The silence overwhelmingly contrasted with the energetic scene you were just part of, forcing you to realize just how empty the house was.

You shook your head, rousing yourself from your thoughts.

Go. Go out and get some work done.

You spent the rest of the afternoon and evening walking through the bustling streets of Jackson, checking in with other leaders and taking note of their preparations for the coming weeks to report back to Maria. You wanted to gather as much information as possible to keep her adequately informed, but it also gave you a reason to push Joel far away from your thoughts.

Through your interactions, you couldn't help but admire the unity and spirit of Jackson. The sense of vigilance permeated the community, there was a collective understanding that every measure mattered in ensuring the safety of everyone. From rigorous training sessions led by guardsmen, sharpening their combat skills and marksmanship, to the meticulous maintenance of weapons and ammunition, no detail was overlooked.

Before returning to the town hall, you brought yourself to the stables. It sat on a hill that overlooked the town with no other buildings near it, making it the perfect getaway when you needed a break from all the noise.

It'd been empty with the exception of a handful of horses in their stalls. In relaxed movements, you swiftly picked up a bucket and flipped it upside down as a makeshift seat, plopping yourself down on it. Hues of red and orange brushed across the sky, the sun sitting just over the top of a mountain far out in the distance. You sat quietly, listening to the buzzing and ticks of nature.

"Can't beat that view." A gentle voice came from behind you, registering as Joel.

The sound of his boots on the floor let you know he approached your side, shoving his hands into his pockets. You nodded in agreement, not seeing the use for words in the moment. Neither one of you looked or even glanced at each other, focusing your attention to the sunset in front of you. The sun descended behind the mountain, dragging the bold colors with it and allowing new hues of blue and purple to replace it. The town lights began to come on, flickering up and down the streets. A soft yellow glow illuminated the stables.

You hadn't seen him all day after the meeting, but now here he was, joining you in your small time of solace. Honestly, you didn't expect him to be there. If he had gone out for his shift around noon, he wasn't supposed to be back for another few hours. You thought that maybe Tommy switched his shift last minute, or that you just remembered his schedule wrong for the week. Either way, you weren't going to poke and prod. Your thoughts had pivoted back to this morning.

“Do you think she’s not telling us something?”

He furrowed his eyebrows momentarily before relaxing. “Maybe.”

You stood up and slid the bucket off to the side, beginning to pace at the edge where the wood met the grass. Joel watched as you brought your hands to your hips and your eyes stared down at your feet, placing themselves one in front of the other as if they threatened to trip over thin air.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to this. It all felt so sinister. You wanted to be mad at yourself– How could you have gone so long without realizing that there’d been people out there watching, judging, and assessing every move? But also, how could you have known? What were the signs you were supposed to be looking for?

“People hide things when they’re scared.”

His words stopped your pace, and fuck if they hit a little too close to home. You faced him with a perplexed expression etched on your face and a light desperation in your voice. “But why is she scared?”

You weren’t looking for a legitimate answer, you just wanted him to see where your train of thought was at. You searched his eyes in hopes that he shared the same doubts. That something bigger was in the picture.

“Tommy thinks they’re tracking us on patrol.” He shrugged his shoulders again, his eyes first glancing down at the ground before landing on you. He shifted his weight to his one foot almost cautiously. "Seems that way, I guess."

Your breath hitched in the back of your throat as you tried to take deep breaths. Your hands ran through your hair to stimulate the light-headed feeling that was spreading quickly. No fucking way.

“How long?”

Your eyebrows were knitted together and your eyes narrowed at Joel's. He brought his hands to his hips and turned himself towards Jackson, staring off into the distance, where somewhere between all those mountains, rivers, and forests, danger lurked. The weight of silence hung heavy in the air, a tangible presence that seemed to amplify the gravity of the situation.

“Been runnin’ into the same people for a couple months, at least.”

Months. They had fucking months on you. And only now had Jackson realized it. Yet, Joel seemed indifferent in conveying this to you. You felt that all the air had been knocked out of your lungs, and you turned away, dragging a hand down your mouth to cover your mouth, muffling an oh my fucking god. You reverted back to how you thought about how blissfully unaware you were about all the times they could’ve taken or killed you, or Joel, or– you whipped around to him.

“She cannot go on patrol anymore.” He looked at you with a somber expression, his gaze growing with concern as the lines on his forehead deepened. You didn’t notice as he drew closer to you as you began to think of the worst case scenarios. “I’m sorry, Joel- But she can’t. God forbid something-”

You’d been talking a million miles a minute and staring right into his chest, yet didn’t see his hands coming up to cradle your face and make you look up at him. In his eyes, you saw his worry as you lost yourself in your own head. He saw how troubling you found the entire matter to be, and knew that it would eat at you until it was put to rest.

“Please, don’t let her.” Your hands wrapped over top of his as your voice broke in a final plea.

His hands were rough and calloused, yet when they held you, you’d think that he’d held everything in life this softly. His thumbs ran over your cheekbones, eyes flickering between your own. If the circumstances were different, maybe you’d take your chance and crash into him. But when he looked at you like this? Man, it didn’t get much better than that.

“Yes ma’am.”

In his response that probably should’ve made either of you withdraw, neither of you did. His eyes quickly glanced down at your mouth, and you involuntarily did the same to him. You said his name, but it was barely audible. He brought his hand to the back of your hand and guided you into his chest, wrapping his arm around you.

“Hey,” he cooed, “we’re gonna be okay.”

His words had a profound effect on you. Those simple words said with such an assurance and sincerity that you so desperately wanted to believe him without question. It echoed in your head.

We're gonna be okay.

You don't know when, but at some point over all the years with Joel, it became something more than just surviving together. It became that you were unofficially his, and he was unofficially yours, with no room for anyone but Ellie inbetween. But still, you found yourself wondering if it would ever be more than just that. If he ever felt the same pull, the magnetic force that constantly drew you towards him.

You couldn't help but wonder if he truly understood the depth of your own feelings. If he grasped the significance of these moments that left your heart racing. Did he know how often you spent thinking about him, replaying conversations in your mind, searching for hidden meaning in every word and gesture like you were right now?

You buried your chest into his chest and nodded, a silent acknowledgement at best, allowing his words to sink in for what they were worth.

"Yeah, we're gonna be okay."

You didn't believe yourself for a second.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #tlou #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #annasmasterlist #annawrites

[sastrugie]

john entwistle biography review

ok so first: I didnt really like the biography because I thought it would focus on totally different aspects. John was a musical virtuoso and that hardly ever gets mentioned in the book. But we get exact axccounts on how much money he spent on what day and in which pub he bought which champagne. like wow thanks. The other personal stuff is basic who knowledge you can read in any other Who biography. His autobiographical bits were joy and fun! Maybe the only reason to buy the book in my opinion. He writes totally different than the author...

ANYWAYS: here my fav facts from the book that you probably didnt know before

this is the face of a man who -when his father gave him driving lessons for his 21st birthday as a present- decided driving wasnt really his thing and he spent the money on clothes and parties instead. He never had a drivers license ever and also never desired to have one 

the hospital he was born in, was bombarded and destructed one day after his birth

as a child he was really weak and thin and had basically every disease that existed

his family was poor af

his father left the family early and held contact with his son, but soon disappeared with a new family

his stepdad, Gordon, disliked John alot and would ignore him, hated everything John did or said and he let his bad moods out on Johns mother, which caused John to be very silent and observative around the house so that there wouldnt be any trouble

he did everything to please Queenie (his mom) so that there was no fighting, according to Alison

loved drawing and playing but usually alone since he had no friends apart from their dog

he heard a trumpet solo once from a trad jazz band when he was 6 or so and decided he wanted to learn the trumpet

my fav line of the book probably: “despite his own expectations, he passed the exams to go to grammar school” like same

at school he was bullied from the older boys but soon left alone by them because he would fight back with badass comments 

he applied for the school band for the trumpet but the tallest guy in the year was chosen (he was the 2nd tallest)  which made John mad, but he discovered the french horn

soon he found a friend, mickey brown, at last and he gave him the nickname “ent”

he was so terrible in P.E that he was dismissed with other pupils to play somehwere else, they were called “the hockey misfits” and guess who was among them: Pete Townshend.

yeah as you might know they became besties because they loved music and black humour.

he found himself a gf (alison) and Pete & a school gang (like 4 ppl) and his life seemed to finally get where it should.

his worst subjects were geography and german like wow (im a german geography student lmao)

once they played in a pub and johns stepdad was there and was super angry and gave john a list with his fav pubs and told him “these are the places I never want to hear your fucking music playing”.

after walking home pete decided to switch the guitar and john wanted to become a musician more than ever

Roger found him and John kind of convinced him (it took months apparently) to get Pete into the band and then it all started

he judged the beatles because John Lennons harmonica was “out of tune” in love me do, wow ok you nerd

john started smoking with 20 and was the last one to quit his job for the band and he was against drugs at first (bc he had a “civilized” job) but then decided to give a shit, dyed his hair black, bought cigarettes, smoked dope with pete and did speed too

he wanted to step out of himself and feel good about himself and he was always a fashionnerd so he started buying and trading and selling clothes (he once was dismissed from school bc he wore the school uniform incorrectly)

with 18 or so he was still living at home, had a toy soldier collection and a pet budgie

pete and his college friends made fun of john bc he wasnt a student and still lived at home, although john could have gone to college too and he wanted to, but his stepdad again said no and he had no choice.

he was very awkward and introverted but could open up with his music 

he was really into pop art (esp pop art clothes)

was a pseudo mod bc he only liked the fancy clothes and motown music

with the who he found a purpose in his life and finally could be different than ordinary ppl

hated when people touched his hair, he literally hated it

would fuss much about his hair in general

once after a concert they were starving and the room service was alreday home so they had to look on used plates and food wagons and John found a shrimp and said: “who wants to dine with me tonight?” (idk that really made me laugh)

keith moon was john entwistles soulmate and they were the cutest, most iconic and funniest duo ever end of discussion

his amps would soon be called little manhatten bc he had so many bc he wanted to be loud

he actually went to sing at church once when he was like 24 and the band made fun of him then he stopped

in the late 60s he bought a house with alison in a normal neighbourhood and went walking the dogs on sundays and stuff

but he was a party animal and always the last to go

he was really sensitive and cried often according to Alison but only in front of certain people

he would totally step out of his way to please people

when they played at the monterey pop festival they didnt bring their own amps along and john was furious bc he said the american amps are shit and kit was like “no” and john didnt talk to him for the whole festival until their perfomance was over and they had sounded like shit to tell kit “I TOLD YOU SO” thats how extra he was

when he got money he would spend it bc he was so used to being poor that he thought it wouldnt last long and he had to enjoy it NOW

he was always calm and everyone respected him and kit told a story where he entered the room and roger was at keiths throat and and pete was screaming something and john was sitting in the corner cleaning his nails. thats who energy

liked to dance at parties

his fav drink was rémy cognac with 40% and he would drink like 1 bottle alone everyday in his later years...wow dude

he was also gentlemanTM and once paid taxis for girls from london to brighton after a party

once at a wedding the free drinks were out and John just gave the barkeeper his creditcard and said he will pay for all the drinks of the night for everyone (it wasnt his wedding)

Roger once said: “John made smartass comments that deserved a punch in the face” sounds like him yes

he didnt really care about money and always wanted to pay and never told anyone how much things had cost and brought gifts for everyone

soon that ended in a shopping addiction tho and he bought ridiculous things for ridiculous amounts of money

when the who was inactive he sank into depression :(

held the band together during who by numbers & who are you

wrote and played all the quadrophenia horn parts himself

never lost his passion for art and always drawed alot, said Alison

cried when Christopher was born aww

once he saw their manager in an art museum and how he wanted to buy a painting but couldnt afford it, so John bought it secretly and shipped it to said managers home as a gift

We all know John was a huge collector. His most treasured collection was .. wait for it: teapots.

he tried to save Keith from being arrested once and ended up being arrested too lol

wanted to write a scifi concept album but desorted the idea and gave some songs to the who (905) or Pete

was a good cook apparently

When he gave a hug HE was the one who decided when to let go sdfghjk

hated confrontation and would hire other people to tell someone bad news

he spent so much money on dumb shit like wtf

but didnt really care either

probably the master in picking up and seducing girls

he let his stepdad live in the quarwood mansion when he wasnt there but Gordon was still an asshole wtf

the contact to his real dad was really sporadic

when the who ended, it hit him really hard and he didnt know what to do besides partying and buying stuff/hording stuff

was very insecure and selfconscious in the 80s according to Maxene :(

he actually took pete breaking up the who really personal and was sad 24/7

was that kind of guy that said bad stuff about the who but when you said bad stuff he would try to kill you on spot

with cocaine he felt really confident and still like the 60s/70s rockstar he once was but he didnt understand that these times were over and he needed to move on

sometimes went into random pubs with friends and made jam sessions for the guests

he still was generous and loving until he died and tried to play with other bands but it was not the same

he really liked Kenney and hung out with him more than with his wife at some point lmao

was a total giver and people who worked at quarwood would steal money from him but when someone pointed that out he got angry with that person for even suggesting that

was a real softieee (and a huge nerd)

all his friends said that he was shy at first but once you got to know him he would come totally out of himself, was very funny, loved to tell stories, was very very loyal and would try evertyhing to make you laugh aww

all in all a glorious story with a sad ending and he did destroy himself completely, but lets remember that Pete Townshend described old John still as "wonderful, mature and elegant” so lets cling on to that :)

#the who #John Entwistle #band #literature #the ox #mine #pete and rog didnt participate in the bio maybe thats why its hit #*shit #not hit #also you can see: no info about his musical inspiration or werdegang #can not recommend #althought this post might look fun these are the filtered cool stories from like 330 pages #classic rock

[eldritchsurveys]

834.

How have you been feeling lately? Have you been doing ok? >> Eh. As long as nothing unpredictable happens, I’m mostly fine... but I’ve also had at least two meltdowns in the past week, so “mostly fine” is obviously a cover-up of some sort. I don’t really know what to do about it, so I am kind of just holding my breath through every day, hoping I don’t lose it over something trivial.

Are you currently in quarantine? >> No, the stay-at-home order has been lifted. Still not really going anywhere, though.

Do you wear a mask when you go to the store? >> We didn’t this past weekend, which I don’t feel great about, but I ordered a bandana yesterday so I’ll hopefully have it before this coming weekend.

Does your state require people to wear masks in stores? >> Well, they say they require it, but we were definitely not the only people in stores without masks on. So I don’t know what the deal is with that. I think maybe stores are weighing how much it’s worth having to deal with irate customers who can’t stand being turned away for not complying with the mask rule (Michigan is, after all, the state where armed protesters stormed the capitol building to harass the governor for extending the stay-at-home order...). Regardless, now that I will actually have a face covering next time, I’m going to use it.

Do you know anyone who's had the coronavirus? >> No.

What was the last sweet treat you ate? >> I ate part of a lemon coconut cookie.

Was it a nice day out today? >> It’s pretty nice, yeah.

Is the weather nice where you live usually? >> Usually? I wouldn’t say that. Winter lingers around here for a long time, and winter does not usually bring pleasant weather (in my opinion). Also, we get a lot of wacky lake-effect weather.

What was the last thing you ordered online? >> A bandana. It has a Baphomet on it, heh.

Are you expecting a package right now? >> Well, yeah, the bandana. Should be here Thursday or Friday (it’d better be, considering I paid extra for quicker shipping).

Have you ever ordered anything from Wish? If so, what did you buy, and did you feel it was worth it? >> I haven’t, but Sparrow’s ordered stuff from them. I think she likes everything she’s gotten (although she hasn’t gotten everything she’s ordered, which is annoying).

Are you a youtuber? If so, are you consistent with uploads? and how many subscribers do you have? >> I am not, nor would I ever be, a youtuber.

What is one thing you hate about summer? >> Heat waves. I like warmth, but too hot is too hot.

Did you go outside today? >> Not yet.

What is the name of your youtube channel, if you have one? >> ---

What was the name of the last store or restaurant that overcharged you? >> I can’t recall being overcharged anywhere.

Is your room more often messy or clean? >> On the cleaner side than the messier side.

Who is someone you miss? >> ---

What is something you miss? >> ---

Do you feel like your emotions are often haywire? >> I feel like that pretty frequently, yeah. I’m either having no emotions or having a veritable perfect storm of them, and I’d really like to find a fucking balance at some point.

Have you ever received a misdiagnosis from a doctor? >> I’ve mostly received misdiagnoses from doctors.

Have you ever been "diagnosed" with a mental illness from an online friend? who is not a doctor? If yes, isn't that frustrating? >> Nah, I’ve not had that experience.

Do you have any friends that you can trust and tell everything to? >> ---

What was the name of your favorite roommate you've had? >> ---

Do you have a favorite book that you've read multiple times? >> Yeah, there are a few books I’ve read multiple times.

What's one book or book series that you've read multiple times? >> I’ve read Dreamcatcher by Stephen King at least twice.

Have you ever had an embarrassing bathroom accident? >> Yeah.

What was the name of the funniest kid you've ever babysat? >> ---

Do you enjoy babysitting? >> Never done it.

Do you have any big regrets? >> No.

Are there things about your past that bother you? >> I mean... I’m post-traumatic, lmao.

What was the last thing you saw or read on social media that made you angry? >> That doesn’t really happen to me.

Do you often post about controversial topics on facebook? >> I don’t post on facebook at all.

Do you think it's a good idea to post about serious topics on social media? or do you think that it's better to discuss serious topics in person? >> I think that a lot of misunderstanding happens on social media that could possibly be avoided or at least worked through with more efficiency in person. I do say possibly, because like, who knows, really. But there are many discussions I wouldn’t bother getting into on social media (especially where other people can see it and jump in with their two cents), that I might be more willing to discuss one-on-one with a person in a controlled environment. Which is why I hate that people don’t use IM/DM functions more often for working through sensitive topics (like “I have a problem with something you said in [x] post and I would like to work it out with you” or whatever), instead of turning it into a public fucking debate.

What was your favorite book you had to read for school? >> Their Eyes Were Watching God.

Have you ever failed a class and had to repeat it? >> No, I got no credit for a class and had to repeat it.

What class in school did you hate the most? >> All of them lmao

Have you ever wanted to be a teacher? >> Fuck no.

What's one childhood dream that has stuck with you, and one that has not? >> ---

Would you want to re-live your childhood over again if you could? >> FUCK NO.

Which do you like more: being an adult or being a kid? >> I vastly prefer being an adult where I have at least some semblance of agency and control over my own life, instead of being subject to the whims of people who don’t actually care about what I want or need or feel but are mostly thinking about what they want out of me.

At what age were you when you started to feel like you were mature enough to offer others advice? >> I don’t recall having this thought, like, ever. I offer advice when someone’s asked for it and I feel like I have some to offer. I don’t give a fuck what my age is.

Did your parents smoke or drink when you were growing up? >> No.

Do you enjoy bonfires? >> Yes.

Have you ever stepped on a sparkler? >> No.

What, do you know of, are you allergic to? >> Nothing.

Have you ever ridden in an ambulence? >> Yep, front and back.

What is your favorite version of the Bible to read, if applicable? >> I prefer the NIV for just regular reading, but ngl, the KJV has some turns of phrase that can be really poetic-sounding in certain verses.

Do you follow trends? or are you a trendsetter? >> Literally neither. I just do what I want.

Has anyone ever described you as a trendsetter? >> No.

Do you know anyone who used to be loving, but then turned cold? List three people you've known whom this has happened to. >> I don’t know anyone like that, which is good, because that is definitely red-flag behaviour.

What SAT subjects, if any, did you get a perfect score in? >> ---

What were your best subjects in school? and what was your favorite subject in school? >> ---

Have you ever been abused by a parent or legal guardian? >> Yes.

Do you have a lot of wounds from your past? >> Nope. Not a single one.

Has anyone ever called you a jerk? >> Probably.

Are you a jerk? >> Probably.

What color were your bedroom walls in high school? >> I assume they were the Nothing(tm) colour that is standard in apartment complexes.

Is there a girl or guy you wish you hadn't let slip away? >> No.

Is there an old friend that you miss and would like to reconnect with? >> No.

Who has hurt you the most? >> Sigh.

Have you been bullied? >> Yes.

Which talent show, if any, would you most like to audition for? and have you auditioned for one? >> I would rather die.

Do you know anyone who's auditioned for American Idol? >> No, but I know someone who auditioned for X Factor, which is largely the same concept.

Is there someone you think should audition that hasn't yet? >> No. I don’t think anyone should audition for those stupid ass shows.

What time of day do you usually feel your best? >> There is no time of day when that’s likely to happen. It depends more on my actual mental state than what time of day it is.

What's one way in which you've changed within the last ten years? >> Oh, you know, stuff.

Do you feel like time goes by fast, or slow? >> To me, it just... passes?

Who do you know who has died of cancer? >> No one.

Has there been cancer in your family? >> I don’t know.

Have you ever stayed overnight in a hospital, and if so, what for? >> Yeah. For being suicidal, or for being self-injurious, or because people just plain thought it’d be a fun thing to do to me, I don’t fucking know.

Have you ever been a victim of police misconduct? >> No.

Have you ever been so angry you wanted to sue someone? >> That... would be such a strange response to being angry at someone. For me, anyway. I don’t know, maybe it makes sense to other people. I stick to Old Reliable -- wanting to beat them to a pulp or something.

Have you ever been a victim of racism? >> I mean, probably.

Have you ever deleted a friend on facebook for making racist comments? >> No. Luckily, that’s never happened to me.

What was the last thing you ate? >> Veggie burger and chips.

What was the theme of your senior prom? >> Damned if I remember, that was like 15 years ago.

Did you go to prom? >> Yeah.

Have ever been engaged or married? >> Yeah.

Are you an aunt or uncle? >> Technically.

Do you live to glorify God and to do His will? >> No.

Are you happy with the way you are living your life day-to-day right now? >> I mean, there are worse ways to live. At least I get to decide for myself what I do with my day.

Do you feel like your life was better or worse six years ago? >> It was definitely worse. That’s not even something to question.

Have you ever made a huge, catastrophic mistake? >> I don’t think any of my mistakes qualify for such a dramatic adjective.

What's one need of yours that is currently not being met? >> ---

Do you feel like you are currently in a state of suffering? and that not all of your basic needs are being met? If so, how long have you been in a state of suffering? >> Not that kind of suffering, no -- I’ve been in that state, where most of my basic needs were not at all being met, and I’m very grateful to not have to live like that anymore. Unfortunately, living like that for extended periods of time tends to have lasting effects, which is [part of] what I’m dealing with right now.

Do you hate social injustice? >> Nah, I love it. It’s just great. It’s the best thing ever--

Are you happy with the current social class you are in? >> I’m in that strange limbo where I, as an individual, am poverty-class, but since I am part of a household where the other person works a relatively okay job for a living, I get the benefits of being working-class. We’re still low-income by modern urban standards, though. Anyway, I’m fine with that for the most part, but that’s also because I’m used to being literally penniless so anything is better than that.

Do you feel like you are being given what you deserve right now? >> What the fuck do I deserve? What does that even mean? No one owes me anything.

Life isn't fair. True or false? >> I mean, true, I guess.

Do you hate that life is so unfair? >> I don’t really think about life that way. It’s people who have the option to be fair or unfair (and who have the option to perceive of things as fair or unfair); life is just... life.

Name a few people who seem to have everything handed to them. >> I don’t know anyone like that.

Who do you go to when you're upset? >> Can Calah.

Do you pray less or more than you did 5 years ago? >> I didn’t pray then and I don’t pray now, so... the same.

Do you pray a lot? >> No.

Do you frequently have back pain? >> No.

What's the worst side effect you've experienced for a medication? and what's the worst withdrawal effect you've experienced from a medicine? >> The last time I recall having side effects to medications is when I was being put on various psychiatric drugs as a teenager, but I don’t really remember any of the specifics except... being exhausted all the time (because I remember falling asleep in classes and being reprimanded for it like I’m doing it on fucking purpose).

Have you ever used an epi pen? >> No.

What's a name that you like but probably wouldn't use for one of your kids? >> ---

What's you name, and do you like it? >> Mordred. Of course I do.

Would you prefer to give your kids common names or unique names? >> ---

Do you feel like anybody values you in the way that you deserve? >> There’s that word deserve again. Anyway, yes, I’m sure someone values me well enough. Probably.

Who have you felt the most valued by? >> I guess Sparrow values me, or we wouldn’t be married. That’s how that works, right?

Have you ever been treated like you were inferior? >> Yes.

What was the name of the biggest bully in your high school? >> ---

Do you ever sleep outside? >> I’ve slept outside before, yes.

How many siblings do you have? >> ---

Are you the oldest, youngest, middle, or only child? >> I was raised as the only child in the household. I was the youngest of my father’s children.

How many kids do you want to have? >> Zero, ideally.

Do you want to get married? >> It’s already been done.

Best date you've been on? >> ---

Dream date? >> ---

Ever kissed someone on New Year's? >> Yeah.

Have you ever had an experience so good you felt like you were flying? >> Probably.

Have you ever been in so much pain you prayed that you would die? >> Yep.

What brings you the most joy? >> Uh... hmm. Good question. I’ll get back to you on that. Someday.

What is your passion; what is it that would bring you the most joy and fulfillment in life? >> I don’t think I have any passions.

Have you ever laid your dreams aside because someone else wanted you to? >> Well, fortunately for everyone else, I don’t really have any dreams.

Who supports you in everything you do? >> Sparrow is pretty supportive when I bother to do stuff.

Who always tries to stop you whenever you try to go after your dreams? >> ---

Do you believe in following your heart, in going after your dreams? >> I think that if someone has a dream, then sure, they should try to see it through. But I also think that sometimes it just ain’t worth it. It’s up to the person to make that determination, though, not me. Personally, I don’t really know what it’s like to have a dream, so it’s not like I can relate or anything.

Do you wish other people would want you to be happy? >> I don’t think people want me to suffer or anything. I think that in general, people aren’t really thinking about me at all.

Do you wish you had someone who loved and supported you? >> I do. I wish I had the capacity to feel loved and supported.

#surveys #survey #random survey

[cilliansaccent]

The Peaky Designer - Cillian Fanfic, Chapter 8

Hello, welcome back. Below is the next instalment of my fanfiction!

Leave a like or a comment if you liked it, or if I can do anything better! Please, it would mean the world and to understand if anyone is enjoying my writing. Also, sharing/reblogging would be even better.

PLEASE READ:

I will not be including Cillian’s family as it’s kinda weird since he has children lmao. Just a mention of his parents and a previous lover.

I will indicate in a chapter if there is smut in the beginning and before the actual scene!!

I will add trigger warnings if there is any!!

There is a variety of levels of swearing during a chapter, I will not hold back, everyone swears.

The timestamp for the Fic is now 2016 and onwards!! 

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

Background: Gabrijela Babic is a Croatian girl from Sydney, Australia. She is born in the year 1991 on the 24th of December. She studies a Fashion degree in a University with a major in Game Design as well. Her teacher in the fashion designer class managed to nail an Internship on the set of Peaky Blinders with the shows very own Costume Designer, Allison McCosh. There, she travels to London for under a year to learn how to be one, working alongside the actors as well the man she admires, Cillian Murphy. But, her platonic feelings for the man begins to grow into something more, and she wonders whether she should pursue them or let him go for fear of her strict parents and her three older brothers…

Characters:

Swantje Paulina as Gabrijela Babic (swalina on Instagram)

Cillian Murphy

Word Count: 1,860

!!Warnings!!: None.

Date: End of July, Early August 2016

Chapter Name: Bestfriends are Forever... 

Brief Chapter Outline: Gabrijela says goodbye to the Cast and Crew as her last day as an intern before she gets an interesting surprise at the end of the day... 

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

Since the day out in Bath and the kiss Gabrijela shared with Cillian, working with him was strange. There was this unspoken thing between them, they both wanted each other but they had no idea what to do with that thought. 

The fact that she was a worker and he was her employer, it was not right to dwell on those feelings. But it was so hard. 

And then there was Logan, who was making it even harder. He was proving himself to be a wonderful man, he treated her kindly, took her out for dinners whenever they were free. The sex was magical, he made sure she was feeling fine during each session as she had come clean about her hell with her ex. Logan had been understanding and kissed her long into the night and worshipped her body. 

She started to like Logan a lot, he had bought her little gifts such as books or music for her to listen to since she had a CD Player in her apartment thanks to Logan. 

Gabrijela found herself smiling whenever he texted her, checking in if she was okay after her trip back home. Or even after a very stressful day, he would call her up. 

Now that filming was at its halfway point, there were times where she would have to travel further and spend the night at a motel, sharing a room with Logan. And somehow word got out they were a couple, Gabrijela blushed when her friends teased and poked at her. And yet, the pair seemed to just... go along with it. 

And not too long they ended up calling it official. They celebrated the day with a night out with the group, spending it at a local pub as their weekends began to be clogged up with filming and preparing major scenes. 

Cillian found out one morning when he had overheard some girls chatting about Logan and Gabrijela being a thing now. It broke his heart, or well, made him upset... No, it broke his heart. But what was he honestly supposed to do? He should be happy she was with someone closer to her age. He had caught the pair behind low traffic areas on set all over each other, kissing and touching... 

He kept on walking, away from it. But when she was close to him, helping him put on his shoes or vest or jacket and fixing up anything out of place... He couldn't help but touch her hip. 

And she didn't back away or push his hand. She looked up at him and saw the desperation in her eyes. The want and need she had for him, but the moment Logan's voice filtered in, she turned away and all that emotion for him was gone. As if she didn't want to let him see it anymore, as if it was a sin. 

Cillian cherished the small moments they had together, she had still managed to keep their friendship strong. When she had time, she made sure she had time for him and invited him to her apartment so they could listen to a new song or old songs from their favourite bands. Or go out of her way to buy lunch for him or she bought it for most of the cast with the help of some friends of hers when the day became terribly busy. 

Her kindness and care for him remained, it never wavered. Cillian never felt so drawn to someone as fiercely as ever, Gabrijela had shown genuine interest and love, there was no faking it. She was tentative to his needs and was always there when he wanted a good chat when things became stressful. And he reciprocated the feelings back and he always loved the look on her face. 

The worst was whenever they spent a day or a few hours together, even during lunchtime she had come over, his feelings for her grew each and every day. 

All he wanted was to gather her in his arms, kiss her and whisper sweet words that would make her freckled cheeks blush and bring upon that goddess of a smile that would light up her eyes. 

He wanted to lay with her, on their sides and facing each other, staring longingly before he would kiss her and take her gently. He'd drag out a moan from her, pulling their bodies in and be locked with her. 

He wanted to wake up every morning with her at his side, turn over and whisper the words that seemed to settle deep within his heart. 

He wanted to take her on an adventure around the globe, spend every waking moment with her. 

He wanted a life with her, despite the age gap and every other possibility that could hinder their relationship. 

But Cillian would appreciate the small moments he had with Gabrijela even when another man made love to her body and made her smile in a way no one would. Not even him now. 

He would work with her, be as close as friends in the months that passed. He would do whatever it takes to make her the best person through this internship of hers. There were some days where she did not show up, he had learned she was to take some online exams and she had been studying full out while she was here. 

Gabrijela had not just worked on the set of Peaky Blinders either, there were times where Allison had trusted her enough to handle smaller projects for small plays and send her off to other parts of London to work with other people. It was fantastic, she would be working another four months after she would leave Peaky Blinders. She had to extend her stay here, her parents seemed iffy but they saw how happy she was. So they let her stay. 

Even began to pay for her rent despite she was being paid for the four months she was at this play. Even the extra month and a week for free time for herself. 

But it came the time for Gabrijela to say goodbye to the cast she had called family. It was a crazy madhouse but she enjoyed every moment of it. 

The cast all gave their farewells to her, hugging and giving her a large poster of all the cast before and now and it was all signed. The back of it had a heartfelt message. Gabrijela would cherish it, she wasn't the type to be annoyed. She loved anything that was given to her, but just no food. That was something she didn't like. 

They had even taken a group photo all dressed up and in the famous street, Watery Lane. 

Once the goodbyes were said and last hugs, she finally left with the giant poster and a cap signed by Cillian. She smiled as she sat on the train and hugged the cap to her chest, Logan beside her and playing on his phone. 

She hoped she would see Cillian sometime during the next few months, especially before she'd leave. He really had an impact on her, soul, body and heart. She realised, despite being with Logan, she would always love Cillian. And not just as a friend. 

Once they got off the train, they walked down the street together, hand in hand. "Have a good day?" Logan asked her. 

"Yeah, I did. I'm gonna miss it." She said, looking up at her boyfriend. 

"I'm gonna miss you and our fun." He nudged her, she giggled. 

"I'll come by and visit." She leaned up and kissed his cheek. 

As they neared her apartment, someone was sitting at the stairs. 

Gabrijela squinted and saw the familiar wild black curly hair and the pink fluffy jumper.

"Oh, my god. Lucia?!" Gabrijela gasped. 

The black girl turned and beamed, "GABBIE!" She cried and ran to her, the two girls clutching each other and laughing. 

"Oh my god!! Lucia!" Gab cried again and hugged her tightly. 

"Hello! Finally! Oh my god, am I glad to see you!" Lucia cupped her face and giggling. 

"Oh, its good to see you too, beautiful." Gab was almost in tears. 

Lucia spotted Logan walking over, carrying the things Gab had dropped. 

"Damn, who is this hunk of a man?" Lucia smirked and pulled away, holding her hand out. "Lucia, nice to meet you..." She trailed off. 

"Logan." He laughed and shook her hand, "Gab's boyfriend." 

Lucia gasped and looked at Gab, "Boyfriend?!" 

"Oh god, Logan." Gab pouted, "Yeah. We clicked." 

"Oh my, lucky girl." Lucia giggled. 

It started to rain, "Let's go inside. I'll make us tea or something." Gabrijela said. 

"Oh, no. I better head home. It's another long day tomorrow." Logan shook his head, handing Gab her stuff. 

"Aw, come on. I need to hear the details." Lucia said. 

Gabrijela sighed and gave a look to Logan and it convinced him. 

"Only for a bit, then I gotta get going." He said. 

The trio got into the apartment and got comfy. Gabrijela made tea for them all as Lucia began to shoot questions left, right and centre. Lucia explained how she wanted to surprise Gabrijela by coming here for two weeks and to travel around with her since she was now free. But then it came to how Logan became Gabrijela's boyfriend soon enough. 

Gabrijela answered briefly when it came to the sex and Logans... size downstairs. 

Logan seemed to not want to answer to much about it either, "I don't find that appropriate." He said to Lucia who looked pouty. 

"Why not? It shouldn't be too shameful." Lucia said sipping her tea. 

Gabrijela sat beside Logan, a hand on his thigh. 

"Well, I don't like to talk about it." Logan quipped, scowling a little. 

"Fine, how long have you two been dating then?" Lucia asked, scoffing. 

"Almost a month now," Gabrijela replied, not really liking how Lucia was behaving childishly. 

"Nice. Let's hope it lasts." She said with a hint of annoyance. 

"What did you say?" Gabrijela glared at her. 

"I just said let's hope it lasts." She shrugged and put her empty cup down. 

"Lucia, what's wrong, huh? I thought you'd be happy." Gabrijela seemed upset. 

"Hey, okay. I think uh you best be going, Lucia." Logan said, keeping an arm around Gabrijela. 

"Why? Am I bothering you?" She stared at him with a hard look. 

"No, but you are making your best friend here clearly upset." Logan shot back. 

She sighed and stood, "Fine. I'll go." She said and just... left like that. 

Gabrijela sighed heavily, "She does this all the time. And not just with you, with my other friends." She said, looking up at him. 

"Doesn't seem healthy. Or good behaviour." He kissed her forehead. 

"I'll see what's up tomorrow." She said and stood up with him. "You don't want to stay?" She wrapped her arms around his waist. 

"I'd love to, but I got an early start tomorrow." He leaned down and kissed her deeply, "I'll stay tomorrow night." 

She smiled, "Okay. You take care." She murmured and kissed him once more before he also left as well. 

#cillian murphy #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #fanfiction

[gamerwoo]

Seonghwa: Facade (Part 3)

Characters: Seonghwa x female reader (featuring Hongjoong)

Genre/warnings: royalty au, sorta arranged marriage au, slowburn, fluff, a little bit of angst

Word count: 3,301

Summary: Being an assassin, you’ll do anything for anybody as long as they can pay for it. However, you might’ve met your match after meeting your next target, Park Seonghwa, the prince of the kingdom. It’s not that his fighting skills match yours or that he’s even a little suspicious of you – it’s how he has a heart of gold, cares so deeply for his kingdom, and would do anything for you despite the fact he has only just met you. So now you have to make a choice: fail your orders and accept death…or kill the man you’ve fallen in love with.

a/n: IT’S SEONGHWA’S BIRTHDAY SO I’M POSTING A DAY EARLY LMAO

Previous | Next

Day 17; 10:41 -- 73 days until deadline.

You hadn’t seen Seonghwa since that day that you saw Hongjoong for the first time while he watched you and the prince. Somebody would come to your bedroom and apologize on Seonghwa’s behalf for not seeing you, but it wasn’t until the day before that you were finally told he was sick -- by Hongjoong who could tell you were anxious because nobody would tell you what had happened. Seonghwa was your target, so you thought he’d either found out and was actively avoiding you, or plans had changed and nobody told you. Either way, it made you nervous.

“He didn’t want you to know because he didn’t want you to worry,” Hongjoong had explained. “He’s not deathly ill or anything, it’s just a stomach bug.”

So three days had gone by since he had first gotten sick, and you’d been in your room all three days. You were starting to get bored, even with Hongjoong coming in to ‘check on you’. Nobody else in the castle seemed to give a shit about you except for Seonghwa, which made no sense since everybody thought you were going to be the new princess and then queen. You thought the people that lived in the castle would pay a little more attention to you. You may have had a mission to do, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t ‘befriend’ anybody while you were staying there.

Instead of suffering another moment of boredom, you waited until the castle had gone mostly quiet before sneaking out of your room. The halls were much darker than you’d ever seen them since you’d never snuck out of your room other than to climb out the window and shimmy down the vines that climbed up the side of the castle, but you knew this was good since it meant everybody was asleep. So you made your way to the kitchen and tried to throw together a soup as quickly as possible. It was one you would make for Mingi or any of his friends when they fell ill, and you’d learned it from a sweet midwife whom you’d had to stay with for a mission before. She claimed it could cure any stomach bug, so you paid extra attention when she made it -- even though you knew it couldn’t actually cure anything.

Once the soup was made, you held the bowl of soup between both hands and made your way to the prince’s wing of the castle. Despite everybody seeming to be asleep, you kept your steps soft and light, and your senses sharp just in case somebody happened to be lurking. You were sure most of the guards were still awake, working in shifts to protect against possible intruders or any other dangers.

When you’d reached Seonghwa’s door, you balanced the bowl in one hand to knock softly. You didn’t hear a reply, but you slowly opened the door anyway, peeking your head inside.

Seonghwa laid in bed, his face illuminated by the fire in the fireplace across the room. His eyes were barely open, watching the flames as they made the wood crackle every now and then. He didn’t even look at you as you slipped into the room -- a task that was much easier with this thin, milky white dress that you were given as a nightgown rather than the stiff, thicker dresses you had to wear during the day -- and closed the door softly behind you.

“Seonghwa,” your voice was quiet when you spoke his name.

Immediately, his brown eyes flashed over to you, a tired smile spreading over his features, “Darling, what are you doing here this late? I don’t want you getting in trouble over me.”

“I heard you weren’t feeling well, so I made you soup,” you told him, bringing the bowl over and setting it on one of the two nightstands.

Seonghwa pushed himself to sit up. His cheeks were flushed pink, and there was a very light sheen of sweat on his forehead that made little strands of blonde hair stick there. When the blanket fell away from him as he sat up, you saw the fancy attire he had to wear wasn’t on his body, either -- not that you expected him to wear fancy garments to bed, but you didn’t expect him to be shirtless. You’d been around plenty of shirtless men before, so you weren’t sure as to why you felt your cheeks heating up. You blamed it on the warmth from the fire that was across the room.

“How’d you find out?” he frowned as he reached over for the soup with the spoon resting in the bowl. “I told everybody to keep it secret from you. I didn’t want you to worry about me.”

You just shrugged, coming up with the best excuse you could, “If we’re to be married, worrying about you is something I’ll be doing often. May as well start now.”

Seonghwa chuckled as he stirred the soup slowly, “I guess that’s true.”

He ate a spoonful of soup, humming softly at the taste. He seemed to like it enough to eat more of it, but he didn’t comment on it like you assumed he would. You raised your eyebrows at him while watching him eat another spoonful, his eyes meeting yours and pausing with the spoon in his mouth.

“Hmm?” he asked around the spoon.

You laughed softly, “Good?”

“Mm!” he took the spoon out of his mouth and swallowed, putting the spoon down and nodding eagerly. “Yes, it’s very good, darling. Thank you for making it for me, I greatly appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome. I learned the recipe from...a kind woman from my home.”

“It tastes a lot better than the soup they’ve been giving me, actually. It tastes more...like...home. Does that make sense?”

“No,” you admitted with an amused laugh.

“The soup I’ve been eating tastes like the fancy stuff we eat at dinner parties and whatnot,” Seonghwa explained, ignoring the fact that you were technically laughing at him. “This tastes like what I imagine soup made by your mother would taste like after hours of playing outside in the snow and coming in to warm up. It tastes like home -- warm, happy, and made with love.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, shaking your head, “That was very cheesy, Seonghwa.”

“Yes, but it’s true,” he stated before eating more of it.

Seonghwa continued to eat and continued to keep thanking you for making him anything so late at night. You reassured him it was no big deal since you typically stayed up late anyway, but then he started lecturing you between coughs on the importance of getting enough sleep. You promised you were getting enough sleep, but he wasn’t having it -- even as sick as he was.

“Once we’re married, I can always make sure you’re sleeping the proper amount,” he nodded to himself.

“Shouldn’t you be worrying about yourself? You’re going to cough up a lung,” you joked. “And speaking of sleep,” you began, standing up and taking the almost empty bowl from him and setting it on the nightstand, “you need a lot of rest to feel better.”

Seonghwa flashed you a dazzling smile even though he was pale and flushed, “Tuck me in?”

“Are you a child?”

“No, I just want my fiancee to spend more time with me.”

“Weren’t you just telling me to go to sleep earlier?”

“Then sleep beside me.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes, “Okay, now I’m sure this fever is messing with you.”

Seonghwa whined softly as you gently pushed on his shoulders, making him lay down before you pulled the covers up and tucked him in anyway. He grabbed for one of your hands, holding it with both of his, “At least stay a little longer. Until I fall asleep. I haven’t seen you in three days.”

You sighed, looking into the puppy dog eyes Seonghwa was giving you -- the same eyes you’d seen from Mingi whenever he wanted something, too. But you knew you had to continue to act the part, so you gave into Seonghwa with a slow nod.

“Fine, I’ll read to you until you fall asleep,” you decided.

Seonghwa smiled and released you from his hold, allowing you to walk over to one of the few bookshelves in his room. He watched you the whole time, thinking you were absolutely stunning like this -- no makeup, no fancy hairdo, and a simple dress that showed off the curves of your beautiful body but was also very plain and let your own natural beauty speak for itself rather than being too overpowering from the intricate detailing. Like this, you didn’t look like every other noblewoman he’d seen -- you were even more beautiful. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t checking you out and admiring you.

When you’d finally chosen a book, you went back over to his bed, sitting on the edge and angling yourself to face him. Seonghwa reached up with one hand, cupping your cheek and stroking it softly with his thumb.

“I didn’t think it was possible to think you were more beautiful than I already thought you were,” he murmured, realizing this was the first time he was seeing you without all the extravagant clothing and makeup. He’d never just seen you before.

Your cheeks blushed pink under his touch, your eyes falling from his face to the bedding you sat on. Your heart started beating quicker, but you knew it was just an involuntary response to the compliment.

“Your fever is making you delirious,” you chuckled before you opened up the book and began to read to him.

Seonghwa knew he wasn’t delirious, and he knew he had never seen anybody as breathtakingly beautiful as you, but he would have to wait until he was better to convince you. So, for now, he kept quiet and let you read, listening to your every word until his eyelids began to get heavy. Your voice was just so soothing and nice to listen to that it began to lull him to sleep.

When you’d noticed he’d fallen asleep, you closed the book and placed it on the nightstand beside the bowl. You stood from the bed, made sure he was tucked in properly, and then went for the door, trying to keep as quiet as possible. You spared him one last glance as you opened the door, his slightly sweaty skin glowing from the dim light of the fireplace. It was no secret Prince Seonghwa was beautiful, but he was even more beautiful with his face completely serene, his full lips slightly parted as he slept.

You quietly slipped through the door, silently and slowly closing it before turning around to leave. That was when you jumped and let out a quiet gasp seeing somebody right in front of you.

“What are you doing?” Seonghwa’s uncle demanded in a hushed tone.

“He’s sick, so I went to take care of him,” you explained. “He’s asleep now.”

The man’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at you, “Why would you do that? You’re not actually falling in love with that retched boy, are you?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes slowly just so he knew how dumb he sounded, “I would never fall in love with my target, sir. I’m simply doing what any fiancee would do. I have to act the part, don’t I?”

And with that, you walked past him and down the hallway that was only dimly lit by candles, making your way back to your room.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Day 19; 23:52 -- 71 days until deadline.

After the little stunt you pulled two nights ago, you weren’t allowed to visit Seonghwa anymore. You were told it was because they were afraid of you falling ill as well, but you knew it was because Seonghwa’s uncle was mad at you. You didn’t really care if you got to take care of him or not, you just wanted something to do to keep you from rotting away in your room from boredom. However, one of his maids came in to ask you how to make that soup because Seonghwa refused to eat anything else. You got to go down to the kitchen for a day to make a large pot that they could reheat whenever Seonghwa got hungry.

That only kept you occupied for one day, though. So now you were back to sitting in your room, reading whatever books you had, doodling on whatever stray papers you could find, and staring out the window while you daydreamed of doing anything other than sitting around a bedroom. You did visit Mingi the last two nights, but you could only do that for an hour tops. It didn’t keep you from getting bored during the day.

But that night, you were debating on going to find Mingi again. You knew sneaking out too much would get you in trouble, so you tried not to go check up on him every single night -- he was an adult, anyway. You just missed your brother, and you hated feeling so useless and just bored all the time.

A soft knock on your bedroom door had you turning away from the window that you sat at to look out at the night sky.

“Come in,” you called softly.

When the door opened, you expected to see the grumpy old man giving you a stern look and ready to interrogate you. But instead, you were met with quite the opposite -- a handsome prince with a dazzling smile. Seonghwa quickly closed the door after he entered, walking over to you with soft steps as you stood up.

“What are you doing here?” you asked him in an urgent whisper.

He chuckled, “Nobody can hear us. I just wanted to thank you for the other night. I haven’t gotten to seen you since, so I snuck out. I assumed you got caught since my uncle specifically told me I couldn’t see you until I was better.”

Seonghwa took one of your hands, holding it up against his before slowly lacing his fingers through yours. You stared at the way your hands intertwined as you tentatively did the same. You weren’t sure if you liked these small gestures now or if you were just getting used to them being done.

“You didn’t get in too much trouble, did you?” Seonghwa asked softly, fluttering his eyelashes at you while he held your hand to his chest, right above his heart.

You shook your head, “No, he just asked what I was doing in your room unsupervised and after hours. I’m sure he was more upset with any guards around than me.”

“If anybody bothers you, you send them to me, alright? I’ll deal with it.”

Then, Seonghwa did something you weren’t expecting. He bowed his head, pressing his lips tenderly against your forehead. It barely brushed your skin, but you still felt the touch. You felt your heart leap out of your chest at the gesture, but you were already composed by the time he pulled away and smiled at you.

Maybe you weren’t used to the gestures yet.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he promised before he let go of your hand and left your room.

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, your shoulders slouching forward as you dropped your head into your hands. You had no clue what that even was. Why would he kiss your forehead like that? Anybody else you’d ever had to form ‘romantic’ relationship with only kissed and touched you in sexual ways, but Seonghwa...

There was another knock at your door, and you suddenly stood up completely straight, staring at the door like you’d gotten caught doing something you weren’t supposed to. You were positive it was going to be Seonghwa’s uncle this time.

“Yes?” you called.

The door opened, but in walked another surprise guest: Hongjoong. You sighed, letting your eyes close and your body relax.

“Good Lord, can you and Seonghwa stop with these surprise visits?” you groaned.

“What are you so tense for, _____?” Hongjoong teased as he silently closed the door.

“What are you doing here?” you countered, not bothering to answer his question.

“You and I haven’t gotten a chance to properly talk,” he shrugged, walking over to sit where you’d been sitting in the windowsill. “I spoke to you all of three minutes the other night. Haven’t gotten to go see Mingi, either. How is he?”

“He’s alright last time I checked,” you told him. “He said you had a mission in the castle.”

“And apparently, so do you,” he smirked. “Please tell me it’s that fucking awful uncle of his. God, that guy is insufferable.”

“Really? You don’t like him?” you asked, walking over to sit beside him.

“No one does. He’s the only family Seonghwa has left, though. Lord, I can’t believe Prince Seonghwa and that man are related at all. Seonghwa’s so kind and caring and loves people and nature and everything, and his uncle is... Well, he’s the devil if the devil were a tall old man with a resting sour face.”

You looked at Hongjoong curiously, “You like the prince?”

Hongjoong just scoffed as if the answer were obvious, “Who doesn’t? Prince Seonghwa is amazing -- you should know, _____. How long have you lived in this kingdom? Since you were born?”

“Yeah, but you know I stay under the radar and don’t pay attention to the law.”

“That is true. Still, he rules over all of us so I thought you’d like him, too.”

“...Should I like him?”

“Do you like him?”

You opened your mouth before slowly closing it, letting out a sigh. You looked at your lap, your hands gripping the seat of the window, “I was paid to assassinate Prince Seonghwa. That’s why I’m here.”

The silence that followed your statement told you that Hongjoong’s jaw had all but dropped to the floor. Even he was stunned by this, but you had to be truthful with him -- he was somebody you could trust, anyway.

“O-oh...” was all he said.

“I’m sorry,” you told him, finally meeting his eyes again. He actually looked sad, and you were actually sorry. “If I don’t do this, though, then--”

“Then you die,” Hongjoong nodded, “I know how it works. Don’t worry, _____, I’m not upset with you and I don’t blame you for going through with it.”

“Really?” you asked as Hongjoong stood up and walked toward the door.

He nodded, only pausing to look at you when he opened the door to leave, “I just wish it didn’t have to be him. He’s so genuine and kind and-- ..._____, I think he really cares deeply about you. I do get what you have to do, I just-- If you could ever find a way out of it, I think you should.”

“...Really?”

Hongjoong closed the door again, apparently not done talking.

“_____, do you really not feel anything toward Prince Seonghwa?” he wondered. “Not even just in a friendly kind of way?”

You paused to think about it. You did feel...something when he complimented you or did things for you or gave you gifts. At first, you just felt nothing but sorry for him whenever he was nice to you, but now you felt almost grateful sometimes when he treated you with such kindness. You could admit you didn’t think Seonghwa was a bad person, but you didn’t know what else you could say past that just yet.

It didn’t matter, though. Your opinion on him wouldn’t change anything.

When you didn’t say anything, Hongjoong left you alone in your room.

#ateez #seonghwa #ateez au #ateez imagine #ateez oneshot #ateez scenario #ateez fanfic #ateez aus #ateez imagines #ateez oneshots #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfics #ateez x reader #ateez prince au #ateez royalty au #seonghwa au #seonghwa imagine #seonghwa oneshot #seonghwa scenario #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa aus #seonghwa imagines #seonghwa oneshots #seonghwa scenarios #seonghwa fanfics #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa prince au #seonghwa royalty au #prince!seonghwa #royalty!seonghwa

[f-l-writes]

Forever Yours

Warnings: Mentions of negative relationship with family, eviction, not proofread

Word Count: 8.2 K

A/N: This took me forever lmao

Hope you enjoy and feel free to request!

Looking at the small musical note on your wrist dreamily, you sighed. You always wondered what it would be like to meet your soulmate. To meet someone destined to be a musician. What were they like? Were they kind? Would they let any of that fame get to their head? How stable would the relationship really be anyway?

These questions mainly stemmed from your mother’s contempt at the thought of you being destined to end up in a relationship with a musician. She always liked to claim that they would never have time for you. That they would never be around and, when they were touring, they would probably end up cheating on you (the thousand-mile rule, she liked to bring up often).

However, you never really did let her words get to you. If anything, they were like annoying mosquitos or flies just buzzing around your head. You learned to ignore them after a while of trying to swat them away. Besides, you felt in your soul that whoever it was that you ended up would never do something like that to you. You knew they would never stoop that low.

As you stared at your soul-mark, you failed to realize the man across from you repeatedly saying your name.

“Y/N! Y/N! Oh, my God! Y/N!”

At that final call of your name, you were finally yanked from your thoughts. The call of your name had gotten you and your best friend, Hyun Jin, several looks from the others that were in the cafe with you. He snickered as he caught your glare towards him, his beautifully dark eyes glittering with amusement.

“Where were you?” he questioned, leaning forward and resting his cheek on his right palm, eyes following your movements.

“Ten years ago, talking to my mom about her disapproval of my soul-mark,” you revealed.

Often times when you zoned out, you weren’t daydreaming. You were living in the past and, like you had this time, you weren’t in the present. You were seeing the past as it had been. The only change was that you were older.

Hyun Jin chuckled at your reveal before grabbing your arm and pulling your wrist into his view. He let his eyes trail over the treble clef before shaking his head, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

You knew why. Hyun Jin would never meet his soulmate. They had died about a year before the two of you met. Unfortunately, he was never going to be free of the fact that they had been killed. That vicious fiery red open book would forever leave a gruesome reminder on his wrist. His would-have-been soulmate would have been an author. And probably an amazing one at that, had they been given the chance at life.

By the time you met Hyun Jin, he was almost at the end of his rope. It’s not easy to know that your soulmate had been murdered. When the two of you had gotten closer, he had revealed to you that he had felt completely lost before he met you. All his friends gave him pity, but you had guided him. Helped him.

Hyun Jin felt like he would never be able to repay you. You had told him on more than one occasion that he didn’t have to, but he always insisted to do things with you when he wasn’t working and practicing. Hell, that was the reason you were at a cafe with him in the first place.

“Do you think you’ll have to leave Seoul to find your soulmate?” he questioned, his lips forming a slight pout at the thought of you leaving him behind for someone a world away.

“I hope not,” you sighed. “But, even if I have to travel to Antarctica to find them, I will come back to Seoul. I would never leave my best friend behind. Especially not when there’s no one as amazing as you, Jinnie.” you assured him, a smile growing on your lips as you looked across the table towards the male.

He smiled back, his own smile twice as wide as yours. He squeezed your hand, which he had continued to hold in his own, quickly before mouthing an I love you and calling the waiter over. As soon as the bill was paid, the two of you were on your way back to your apartment.

As the two of you stopped outside of your second-floor apartment, Hyun Jin had gotten a call from Chris, the leader of the music group that Jinnie was a part of. After a few minutes of listening to a one-sided discussion, Hyun Jin had left you outside of your apartment with an apologetic goodbye.

Watching him walk back towards the stairs and quickly disappear, you sighed. Once he was completely out of sight, you turned back towards your door and walked inside, your eyes quickly examining the near-bare walls. All you really had in your living room was a couch that had taken forever for you to get and a T.V that an old friend of yours had given you as a moving in gift. There were three photos on the T.V stand (which, like the couch, had taken ages to get), each of them of you and Hyun Jin.

As you began to become hyper-aware of the loneliness your home embodied, you contemplated calling Hyun Jin and seeing if maybe he’d allow you to meet the rest of his group. While you had met Chris in person once, you hadn’t met any of the others and, to be honest, you were dying to.

You were especially interested in the loud, squirrel-ish looking one that he had shown you in photos. The boy’s name was apparently Ji Sung and he was one of the rappers of the group. Hyun Jin knew you found him cute and, as his first warning, he stated that he would never allow you to get with someone who could taint your amazing personality.

You had snickered at his words, rolling your eyes at the time. After all, how could someone “taint” your personality when you knew there wasn’t much left to taint anyways.

The snort you let out at the thought startled you from your memory and you were left to vacillate between calling Hyun Jin or not. Groaning, you decided for the former and, as soon as you plopped down on your uncomfortable and deteriorating couch, you pulled out your phone and texted the man.

Hey! Do you think I’d be able to meet your friends? I want to fill up my walls with some photos. It’s lonely here :(

The message went unread for several hours. However, when he did answer back, you were on top of your phone, reading the message.

I don’t mind! I’ll look over our schedule and let you know when we have a day off, alright? Just don’t fall for any of them except me ;)

You let out a loud laugh at the male’s text, rolling your eyes as you shot back a simple ty and went on your way, grabbing something from your fridge to drink. At twenty, you felt a little like a failure. Sure, you had a job, but it was only enough to keep a roof over your head and food in your fridge. You scraped by on bills and the only furniture you actually owned was a beat-up, used couch and an old bed that had springs sticking out of it in several areas. The apartment you had wasn’t exactly in the best place in Seoul, but it was the only affordable place you could find with what you were making.

No, you weren’t angry that you weren’t doing nor were you wallowing in self-pity. If anything, the lack of luxury only urged you to work harder. To become someone who wouldn’t have to worry about choosing between water or food for their next paycheck. You were one of the hardest workers at the place you were working at and, on top of that, you were learning several languages that would be of use getting extra money in whatever the next job you would end up having.

You were determined. You didn’t let people who came over or saw your home or slightly oversize, hand-me-downs bother you when you saw the judgement on their faces. You knew you would become a shining star in your way and, when it happened, you would be sure to go rolling by them in your new car, brand name clothes on your back.

Maybe it would all just end up being a dream in your head, but you wanted it and that made you go as far as you could to try and reach that point.

For now, though, you did what you could to scrape by and make it through week after week. You had no shame in the struggle and, while it was annoying to deal with sometimes, you never whined about it.

After finishing the drink you had pulled from the fridge, you tossed it in the return bag before heading to your room to lie down for a bit. You didn’t have work that day so you were able to catch up on some sleep you had missed. As soon as you were settled down in bed and had the covers pulled over you, you let yourself fall into the deep abyss of rest, letting your dreams take over instead of the real world.

In your dream, you found yourself next to a dark pond. In the pond, there seemed to be thousands of things that mimicked the stars, almost as if the pond was meant to be the sky or universe compacted into a small area. From behind you, there came a rustling from the trees that surrounded you. Near silent footfalls approached you before stopping at your side, revealing someone you least expected. Han Ji Sung. The man you had only seen in photos.

“Wow…” he marveled, his dark, curious eyes settling on the pond.

Being the cheesy, and mildly cringy, ass person you were, you couldn’t help the next words that came from your mouth.

“Come here often?”

His laugh echoed through the silent forest as his dark eyes settled on your own Y/E/C orbs. His smile was just as cute as it was in photos Hyun Jin showed you and, while it wasn’t technically in the flesh, you were happy to be “meeting” him.

“First time,” he commented, the smile never fading. “Your Y/N, I assume? Hyun Jin never shuts up about you. If I knew any better, I’d say he’s in love with you,” the male joked, causing a blush to attack your face, filling it with heat.

“He’s shown me a few pictures of you too, Ji Sung. He talks highly of you. It’s honestly kind of cute,” you chuckled, your eyes turning away from the squirrel-like boy beside you and back to the water.

There was a hum from the boy beside you as he sat down, you soon following suit. There was a certain feeling in your chest that you couldn’t seem to quite place. However, you were able to notice the bright blue glow on the man’s wrist, showing that he had met his soulmate. You were almost a bit disappointed until he pointed out your own wrist, surprising you.

“You don’t think…?”

“I mean, as far as I know, this is just a dream,” he responded, “but I certainly wouldn’t mind being soulmates with someone as pretty as you,” Ji Sung flirted lightly, causing your cheeks to deepen their red hue.

“Wouldn’t this be about the time I’m supposed to wake up? Meeting you, getting to talk for a minute and, just as things are going well, I wake up right?”

“Maybe. We could try one more thing that might wake you up,” he smirked slightly at you before leaning in...

Suddenly, your eyes snapped open, your phone ringing incessantly. Picking it up, you clicked the green answer button before holding it to your ear, letting out a groggy

“Hello?”

“Jesus, thank God you’re awake,” it was Hyun Jin. “Can you get down to the practice room? Ji Sung just woke up from fainting and he won’t stop talking about you and babbling about how you and him are soulmates.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen. Just let me wake up first,” you muttered, Hyun Jin’s words not completely registering in your mind as you finally hung up, slowly making your way out of bed in a struggle to not just put your head back on the wonderfully comfortable pillows that you had previously been resting on.

When you did finally come around to being awake enough to drive over to the JYP building, Hyun Jin’s words finally formed a crystal clear message in your mind: That was more than a dream. It had to be, didn’t it? After all, you don’t usually just pass out in the middle of the day and then wake up babbling about someone you’ve never met before.

If anything, it seemed almost like it had happened because, be it the universe or whatever God decided to make soulmates a thing, you guys were either close to meeting as is or you just happened to be delayed enough to annoy whatever divine spirit put the musical note on your wrist.

From your apartment, you made the rush out to your car and began to drive as quick as you could to get to the practice room that, almost as an afterthought, Hyun Jin texted you. As soon as you pulled up to the building, you were greeted by Hyun Jin at the entrance, the idol pulling you through the inevitable crowd of people to get you on the elevator that would take you down to the practice room.

As soon as you were in the safety of the elevator, Hyun Jin began to talk, a slight smile on his face.

“So… You and Ji Sung?”

“Shut up, we’ll see when we get there, won’t we?”

“Fair enough,” Hyun Jin chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “At least you get to meet the members now like you wanted,” he added on after a moment, his smile never quite fading.

“Very true. Also, I’m assuming you’ve seen Ji Sung’s wrist. If we are soulmates, could you key me in on my destined career?” you questioned, looking from the metal wall you observed him on to the man himself.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he teased in a sing-song voice, pinching your cheek lightly just before the doors to the elevator opened.

From there, he walked beside you before stopping at the door to one of the rooms, gesturing for you to go in. You shook your head, nerves suddenly skyrocketing as you thought of possibly meeting the one you were guaranteed to eventually be in a relationship with. On top of that, you were also about to meet all of your best friend’s group members which was a whole cause of anxiety on its own.

Stepping into the room, you tried to keep yourself from fleeing as you felt eight pairs of eyes fall on you. From somewhere, there was a small gasp before the voice you heard in your dream, presumably Ji Sung’s, broke the silence that wrapped the room.

“That’s them!”

You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt lightly as your face suddenly went a bright, embarrassed red. You forced yourself to bow politely, trying to do what you could to hide your face at this point, including turning to Hyun Jin who stood behind you with a large, almost painful looking, smile on his face.

“Why won’t you guys talk?” he whined after a second, dragging you over to his friends. “Introduce yourselves, guys!”

“I’m Ji Sung,” the squirrelish boy stepped forward, offering his hand to you.

He wants to know just as much as I do, you thought to yourself, looking at his hand for a second before grabbing it and shaking it.

For that moment, the entire room fell silent, watching as the mark on his left wrist and your right one slowly lit up, growing into a strong blue from a light white. The face the boy made was priceless. He seemed completely shocked and amazed, his eyes staring down at the almost blinding light of the soul-marks finally finding who they belonged to.

As soon as he let go of your hand, the light faded and, left behind, was a changed mark. Instead of being the typical black musical note of those who were yet to meet their soulmates, there was that note in a range of colors. From those, it would eventually change upon the death of Ji Sung from the compact rainbow, showing how he died. It was mildly useful if you happened to live longer than him or he died before his time but, on the other hand, it was somewhat unsettling that now you had to wait to see the color it would turn.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ji Sung,” you tried to say as calmly as possible, your face reddening even more.

The boy chuckled a little before responding, his own cheeks taking on a darker tint. “It’s nice to meet you too, Y/N. I look forward to getting to know you.”

You giggled slightly before being introduced to the rest of the boys. In the order of Chan, Woo Jin, Felix, Seung Min, Jeong In, Chang Bin, and Min Ho, you were quickly acquainted with the boys.

Though you insisted that you should go as to not invade on their practice, Chan now argued that you should stay and see what your soulmate packed in terms of talent. You shyly accepted his request and found yourself sitting against the back wall, your eyes on the boys as the music started up again and they began to dance.

You were in awe the entire time and, though there were a few mistakes made that were called out and quickly corrected, you couldn’t help but be entranced by how fluid it seemed to pull together. You were no expert on dancing, but this was amazing. They were so in sync that you were absolutely astounded.

By the time that the practice was coming to an end, in the early hours of two in the morning, you were beginning to doze off, having trouble keeping your eyes open. At the feeling of someone crouched in front of you and a shadow blocking the bright overhead lights, you pulled your eyes open once more to see Ji Sung in front of you, looking at you like you were some new specimen he had just discovered.

“Chan, do you want me to take them home?” he questioned, not quite trusting you to drive yourself.

There was a moment of hesitation from the leader before he gave the affirmative. “Just call a taxi so you’re not walking, alright?”

There was only a hum in response as Ji Sung helped you to your feet, walking with you out of the practice room and up to your car. He remained silent the entire time, either too shy (which seemed unlikely based on Hyun Jin’s description of him) or unsure what to say. By the time both of you were buckled into the car and you had passed your keys over to him, he had come up with what to say.

“Do you want to know what you’ll be?” he inquired, earning a curious yet visibly tired raise of the brow from you.

“You’ll be a Y/D/J,” he smiled at you, his eyes glittering almost brightly as they had in the dream. “It seems really interesting,” he admitted.

“So does being a musician,” you responded, punching in your apartment complex into the GPS on your dashboard.

“It’s fun but it’s really tiring,” he admitted, “but, as soon as we hit our break-even, we’ll get our first paycheck which I’m really looking forward to.”

“You’ll be rich in no time, Ji Sung,” you chuckled, sinking down into the seat as the rumble of the car started up, trying to pull you into sleep.

“I’ll order you an Uber so you don’t have to walk or call a cab,” you spoke out of the blue, pulling your phone from your pocket and going to the Uber app you kept lying around in your apps. Clicking on it, you did what was necessary to get Ji Sung back to his dorms safely, glad that he hadn’t put up any objections. Once the ride was secure, you put your phone away.

“Thank you for that, Y/N,” he said quietly, looking over at you as you leaned your head against the window.

Ji Sung knew that he still needed to spend some time with you before he made any true decisions, but he was already sure he would enjoy every moment you and him spent together. Even though he was sure your initial interaction of silence and shyness wasn’t how you usually were, he was endeared by it.

The rest of the ride was silent, Ji Sung dwelling in his own thoughts, and you barely clinging to consciousness. When he pulled into the parking lot of the short and trashy apartment complex, he gently shook you to near complete awareness.

Checking the app on your phone, you saw that he still had about ten minutes before the Uber arrived, prompting you to ask the next question:

“Do you want to come in while you wait?”

There was a moment of shock before he accepted, following you up to your apartment.

“It’s not much,” you warned. “And I haven’t cleaned in a while, so it might be a bit messy.”

Ji Sung chuckled a little, a quiet “it’s fine,” passing his lips before you opened the door and let him in, flicking on the light. Taking your shoes off when you entered, you walked over to the ancient couch and sat down, gesturing for Ji Sung to follow.

“It’s more empty than messy,” he commented. “No photos of family or anything?”

“I don’t talk to them anymore,” you admitted. “I moved out here on my own when I turned eighteen and I’ve just been scraping by, y’know?”

“How old are you?” he questioned, realizing Hyun Jin had never revealed this information.

“Twenty. What about you?”

“Eighteen,” he admitted, suddenly becoming shy.

You chuckled a bit before, almost without thinking, reaching over and pinching his cheek. He gave you a shocked look at which you realized what you had done.

“I’m so sorry! Me and Hyun Jin do that all the time and I guess I wasn’t real-”

“It’s fine, I just wasn’t expecting it, is all,” he assured you, trying to suppress his laughter.

Just as he was going to get comfortable on the rather uncomfortable couch, your phone alerted you to the fact that his ride was that. Seeing him out the door, you waved goodbye before retiring for the night, a smile on your face while you did so.

Over the next few weeks, you had gotten to see more of the group that Hyun Jin was a part of. You had gotten to learn that Chan was an overachiever with creating music and working on choreographies and such. You had been employed to bring food to him more than once over the course of that week and, each time you did so, you got caught staying with him until four in the morning with him asking your opinion on whatever song he was working on at the time.

With Min Ho, you had gotten to know his love for dancing, the man even deciding to teach you BTS dances from when he was their backup dancer along with the chorus choreos for Stray Kids’ own songs. On more than one occasion, he had tried to convince you to adopt a cat or two, only stopping when you told him the cat would probably starve due to your lack of money.

Woo Jin was always a sweetheart to be around. Often times when you hung out alone with him, he was asking how you were, whether or not you’ve eaten, how you’ve been feeling and so on. On the days where you haven’t eaten anything, he would be the first to jump to cooking you food on their days off or going to get you and the boys something during break. He was funny and adorable and, like you did with Hyun Jin, you often found yourself pinching his cheeks.

Felix and Jeong In were almost a package deal, you had noticed. Every time you were around one, you were soon after joined by the other. Jeong In was shy at first, only offering short responses, smiles, waves, and so on. Felix, on the other hand, had gotten comfortable with you almost right away. In the end, both had become like little brothers to you and you couldn’t help but be happy to have met them. The younger Australian always told you stories about the other members, leaving your sides in pain by the time you were leaving. Jeong In told you stories about the people back in his hometown and, in return, you recalled the good times you had back in your own. All in all, hanging with them was always a great experience.

Hanging out with Seung Min often brought along joking about the other members as well as him telling you about his time on ASC. He spoke highly of his family and he told you what he could about his time spent in LA. You always let him do the talking and only gave vague details about your own past, never really stating the relationship you had with your family. Aside from talking about the past, he also told you jokes (that weren’t always funny) and talked about how it was being an idol, something you often liked hearing about as it sounded interesting yet extremely difficult and taxing on the body and mind.

As for Ji Sung, who you seemed to be hanging out with more and more as time went on, seemed to be the most energetic and talkative out of the nine boys. When you spent time with him during days he had off from practice, the two of you were often walking around town and, despite the occasional swarm of fans, you went relatively unbothered, even if there were cameras taking photos of the idol.

On days when you stayed in the practice room with them or waited in the with him while they were recording, the two of you often talked about everything you could before he was being called back to practice or to record. It often ranged from his love for music and his career to talking about your destined one. He occasionally brought up theories and ideas that related to the universe and such and, when it came to Hyun Jin, he wanted to know every minute detail about the friendship.

To you, Ji Sung was a sweetheart with a natural curiosity for things. If he didn’t know something, he would often ask to see if anyone else knew before taking to Google if they didn’t. He was always determined to get the answers to things and you found it endearing. When he wasn’t doing that, he was working on what he loved, that, of course, being music. You had seen him helping Chan in the studio more than once and, on one of the nights you had gotten trapped in the studio to assist Chan, he had been there. He had kept his eyes on you whenever you spoke, taking in your words and holding them to heart as he helped his leader.

Now, nearing the end of a month of knowing them, you felt like you had known them your whole life. They shared next to everything with you and trusted you greatly. They adored you and it was the same for you to them. However, as you sat at the table in the dorm with them, Felix brought up a point.

“How come you never tell us much about yourself?”

You shrugged as you took a bite of food that Chan had made. “It never really comes up, so why bother?”

“It really doesn’t matter,” Hyun Jin stepped in, giving you an I’m sorry for that look.

“But we’ve been talking to them for almost a month and all I know about them is that they had a few good childhood friends they like to play with. They’ve never once mentioned their family.”

“Look, I just don’t have a good relationship with them. It doesn’t matter.”

The room fell silent after that and, though you knew they had a right to be curious, it was still a bit frustrating. After all, if you didn’t offer the information, they didn’t need to press for it. The rest of the meal passed in silence, tension growing thick in the room. By the time everyone finished eating, Hyun Jin had told you to grab your things, telling you he would you walk home.

Once you did have your things together, ready to go, the two of you made your way out of the dorm. As soon as the door was closed behind you, he began to apologize for the others, claiming to feel horrible about them trying to push you to reveal the negative relationship with your family.

“It’s fine, Jinnie, really. I don’t care. I can just keep avoiding the question. Eventually, they’ll stop wondering.”

“Trust me, they won’t. They may not ask you about it, but they’ll still be curious and keep wondering about it.”

“Even if it that is the case, I’m not going to tell them anything until I feel comfortable enough. Sucks for them, but they’ll have to wait.”

Hyun Jin chuckled a bit at your ending sentence, nodding in understanding. “When I get back, I’ll tell them not to mess with you about it anymore, alright?”

“Thank you, Jinnie,” you responded, pinching his cheek lightly. “Don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Probably die,” he joked, earning a gentle elbow to the ribs from you as the two of you headed down to your car.

“Are you gonna stay over or no?” you questioned, pulling out your phone in preparation to kill your debit card to order Hyun Jin a ride back to the dorm.

“I’ll stay over for the night. I’ll have Chan bring me a change of clothes later. I feel since you got to start hanging out with Ji Sung and the others, we’ve not gotten time to just watch a movie and relax together.”

“You would be entirely correct, my beautiful friend,” you chuckled, climbing into your car once the two of you reached it.

Once you were sure both of you were secure in your seats, you began the drive back to your shitty apartment, ready to get your movie marathon on with Hyun Jin.

“You don’t have practice tomorrow, do you?” you questioned halfway back to the apartment.

“Nah. We have a free day.”

“Sweet. I would say we could hit the town but I’m damn near broke,” you pouted slightly. “We could go for a walk in the park, though. I might be able to throw something together for a picnic, too.”

“Don’t worry about that, Y/N. I can pay for food.”

“No! You’ve got other things to spend your money on-”

“Seriously, Y/N. Let me do this. Considering the fact that you’re struggling on your own as is, this is the least I can do. The only time you’re actually eating decently is with us and I’m almost tempted to move you in with us.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment, now pulling into the lot for your apartment. While you appreciated his concern, you didn’t want him to waste money on you. Sure, your fridge may have been near empty and you could barely afford to pay your bills and rent, but you were fine. You didn’t need him to buy anything when you could pull things together.

Getting out of your car, the two of you headed up to your apartment, ready to settle in and relax. You remained quiet as you headed up, both of you lost in your own thoughts. The silence remained until you finally got to your apartment and walked in, making your way to the couch.

Once the two of you were comfortable, Hyun Jin took control of the remote, going through and trying to find a movie the two of you could watch. While he did that, you were on your phone, looking through your social media when you got a message from Ji Sung.

I’m sorry about earlier, Y/N. I really don’t know why they would ask that kind of thing… I trust that you’d tell us if you were comfortable.

You let out a quiet sigh through your nose before texting the male back. It’s fine, Sung. He had a right to be curious. There’s no harm there.

As an afterthought, you sent a follow-up message, telling Ji Sung to alert Chan that Hyun Jin would be staying at your place that night and would be with you most of the next day.

You didn’t really think much of it, especially considering you weren’t particularly feeling any special way towards your soulmate, but for Ji Sung, he had begun to wonder if you and Hyun Jin were more than friends with how much you hung out alone. Sure, it wasn’t his place to be upset about it since the two of you weren’t dating, but he was your soulmate, not Hyun Jin.

Will do, Y/N!

You smiled a bit at the phone before setting it next to you at the alert that Hyun Jin had finally found a movie. With your head now on Hyun Jin’s shoulder and the movie beginning, the two of you had a nice little movie night.

From when you had first discovered Ji Sung being your soulmate in December, a few months had passed and landed you in March. It was raining outside as you made your way home from work, ready to just crash and sleep for the rest of the night. Your workday had been horrible and the people who had come into the restaurant were the most snobby people you had ever had to serve in your life.

At one point, after they made fun of your work friend Amy, you were ready to snap at them. Who the fuck did they think they were? Making fun of your friend… They’re fucking ridiculous! However, you held it in and forced yourself to be pleasant, though you did throw foul glanced at them every now and then in annoyance.

Now, back at your complex and ready to head up to your room, you were glad to be out of the bad two hours you had at the end of your shift. After grabbing your bag from the passenger side of your car, you headed up to your apartment, only to feel your heart drop at the yellow sheet of paper that had been taped to your apartment door. In large, black letters at the top was 7 Days Eviction Notice.

Taking the paper down from your door, you read it over several times while standing in the hall, unable to believe your luck. You were about ready to break down right then and there, but you managed to keep yourself composed enough until you got into the apartment. The paper was partially crumpled where you held it. Your eyes threatened to spill the tears that were beginning to form and your breathing had gotten short and rapid as you tried to control yourself.

You didn’t know what to do, really. Your landlord wasn’t giving you any chances to pay him back this time, calling it an “Unconditional Quit” because you had been late on your rent too many times, most recently being this month because you hadn’t had enough to pay for it after all your other bills and concerns.

Doing what you knew to do best in a bad situation, you grabbed your phone and called Hyun Jin. Pressing the phone to your ear, you were still trying to control your breathing and calm down from the news that had made your day increasingly worse.

When the phone was finally answered, it wasn’t Hyun Jin on the other line, but Ji Sung.

“Hyun Jin’s in the shower and left his phone out here,” he informed, “but what’s up?”

You could hardly care about who was on the phone right now as the waterworks you had been trying to hold back opened up and you began to talk, unable to care about how horrible you sounded. By the time you had finished, still with no word from Ji Sung, your shoulders were shaking and you were hiccuping.

“Do you have much you need to pack?” he questioned after a second.

“N-No. Just my clothes and a ph-hoto or two,” you responded, trying to answer with as little of a hiccup as possible.

“Pack those and then make your way over here. You’re not gonna go homeless, alright?”

“I c-can’t do that, Ji Sung… You alre-”

“You’re staying with us. You’re not in a position to decline that.” his voice was stern, something you’ve never heard from him before. “If I have to, I’ll come over and help you, but you’re coming to the dorms once your stuff is packed.”

In the background, you heard Hyun Jin speak, asking who was on the phone and why Ji Sung seemed to be frustrated with something. Instead of responding, Ji Sung passed the phone to Hyun Jin.

“Y/N? What’s going on?”

“I… I got evicted today. I have a week to move out,” you muttered, suddenly feeling ashamed.

“Oh… Oh no… I’ll go talk to Chan and let him know you’re staying over for an indefinite amount of time. Ji Sung will be over to help you pack, alright. We can try to sell the couch, bed, TV and stand for some money, alright?”

“I don’t need help packing, Jinnie… I don’t have much anyways.”

“Still, I feel Ji Sung should help you a bit. Emotional support, you know?”

You let out a sigh before finally giving in and agreeing, soon getting off the phone with Hyun Jin.

While you waited for Ji Sung, you grabbed the bags you had moved into the apartment with and began to pull clothes out of your closet, folding them before putting them in one of the three bags. By the time you were halfway done with filling the first bag, there was a knock at the door.

Walking out to the front door, you pulled it open to see Ji Sung, the man’s hair sticking to his forehead from the rain. As soon as the door was open, he had pulled you into a hug, probably in an attempt to comfort you. Light from the soulmate marks spilled into the room and hall, only muted slightly by his arms around you.

“Let’s get to packing, huh?” you said after a moment, waiting for him to release you.

Closing the door, you led him to your small room that had clothes spilled out onto the bed and three bags sitting open at the end. It was a pitiful sight, really. Three bags that could easily hold all your clothes and photos. You were, to put it simply, almost the poorest of the poor.

However, there didn’t seem to be any judgement from the man beside you. If anything, he only seemed intent on getting you out of the apartment and into an area where you wouldn’t have to starve in an attempt to pay bills.

“How come you never asked for help?” he spoke up quietly as you zipped the first, now full, bag closed.

“I didn’t want to bother anyone. I thought I could handle it, but… that clearly isn’t the case,” you responded.

As you went to pull the third bag towards you, Ji Sung stopped you, stepping closer to you. Once again, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you gently. His hands were settled in between your shoulder blades and he had rested his chin on your shoulder. This time, you hugged him back, holding him tight. The gentle, blue light that filled the room filled you with comfort, making you glad to have the one you were destined to be with by your side in your weakest moment.

Your chest had grown tight as you fought your emotions, trying not to cry again. Especially not where he could see you. You didn’t want to be seen as someone who was weak. Someone who would cry when they had friends who were probably more than willing to help out.

“Y/N…,” Ji Sung spoke as he pulled away, cupping your face in his hands and looking you deep in the eye. “You don’t have to be afraid to ask for things. I know it can be hard but… you have people around who are always here for you. You have Hyun Jin. You have me. You have the boys. I’m sure there are people at work who care about you as much as we do. You aren’t alone. You never have been and you never will be.”

You could feel your throat close and the heated trail of tears begin to fall. The sweetheart in front of you wiped away your tears before pulling you out of your room and setting you on the couch, kneeling before you.

“I’ll finish packing your stuff and you can turn in your key. We’ll be out of here as soon as you’re ready, alright?”

You nodded slightly before stopping him from getting up. Your next words came out unfiltered.

“I’m sorry you got stuck with me as a soulmate,” you choked.

His eyes went dark and he scooted closer to you, taking your hand in his own. “Don’t ever say that. I wouldn’t ask for anyone else to be with, Y/N. You’re stronger than anyone I know. You beat Chan out of the park. You are all I could have asked for.”

Almost without thinking, you squeezed his hand tightly, glad to have him. The light around you only solidified the somewhat dream-like idea of him as your one and only. You knew he believed what he said and, while you had your own difficulties, you appreciated it more than anything.

When he pulled his hand out of yours and the light died down, you felt empty again. You watched as he retreated to your room and, after a few moments, you stood and grabbed the key to your apartment, ready to take it down to the office. Blocking the door from closing with a shoe, you headed out and made your way to the main office, Ji Sung’s words running through your mind the entire time and putting a small smile on your face.

Once you reached the office, it was a matter of pulling together your courage and pushing open the door. Taking a deep breath, you grabbed the handle and pushed, walking in. With your key in hand, you approached the desk and dropped your key on it. The woman working there looked up and gave you a distasteful look.

“Moving out day one of your eviction?”

You nodded, your face stern and set in stone.

“Well, it was nice having you, Y/N. Such a shame to see you go.”

You didn’t bother much with hearing any more of the woman’s sarcastic remarks and, instead, you made your way back to the apartment room. Pushing the door open, you saw Ji Sung standing with the photo of Hyun Jin and you in his hands, the last bag still open on the couch.

“You two never dated, did you?” he questioned, looking up when he heard the creak of the door.

“Me and Jinnie? No! We’re like siblings. It would be weird,” you responded, walking over and looking at the photo as well. You smiled at the memory of the day you two had when Amy had snapped the candid photo of you and your best friend.

“When was this taken?”

“About a week after I moved in here. Me, him, and my friend, Amy, had decided to go on a walk through the park. Amy is working towards becoming a photographer, so she had her camera on her to snap some photos for her portfolio. Him and I had been talking about something, I don’t remember what now, but he had made some joke and that’s when Amy snapped the photo,” you recalled, the smile never leaving your face.

Ji Sung nodded as he turned, gently placing the photo on the top of your clothes before zipping it up and pulling the straps together, securing them with the velcro latch attached to one. He picked up two in one hand and one in the other, beginning to move towards the door and head out. You stopped him and removed one of the bags from his hand, shouldering it.

Taking lead, you grabbed your keys off of the hook you would never see again, put on your shoes and headed out, ready to leave and deal with only paying Chan for your stay at the dorms.

Once out of the building, the two of you rushed to your car, tossing the bags into the backseat before hopping into the front. You were chuckling and out of breath. Your head, now drenched, was leaned against the headrest as you tried to slow your breathing.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Ji Sung said out of nowhere, causing your cheeks to flush.

“I- Thank you, Ji Sung,” you commented, looking over at him. “You’re handsome yourself.”

He smiled sheepishly at you before grabbing the keys that had been left abandoned on your thigh, pushing them into the ignition. “Why don’t we head home now?”

You nodded and turned the key, feeling the car start beneath you. With that, you began the drive to the dorms, ready to move into your new, temporary home.

You ended up sharing a room with Hyun Jin, Ji Sung, and Seung Min. Chan completely opposed the idea of you sleeping on the couch and preferred you to sleep in one of the rooms. He also opposed the idea of you sleeping on the floor, leading you to be sharing with Hyun Jin. It wasn’t as though the two of you didn’t sleep in the same bed whenever he had stayed at your place, now it was just a slight bit more weird, knowing that your soulmate was in the room with you now.

Across the first week in the dorms, you had gotten a lot closer to Ji Sung than you had prior to him coming over and helping you move out. You had also summoned the courage to tell the boys about the background you had with your family and the reason why you had saved only enough to move out and into an apartment.

The boys often made jokes at you and Ji Sung, telling you guys not to be alone in a room together for too long and so on. They knew the two of you weren’t dating still, but they found fun in the blushes and embarrassment it caused the two of you.

It was nice living with them, really. You had consistent and decent meals and, when the boys were at practice, you always found something to do to entertain yourself while they were away. Usually, it came in the form of singing your heart out to music and cleaning while you did so.

About half a month had passed since you moved in when the boys, finally having a day off from practice and shows, decided to sit down with you and watch a movie. While you were in the kitchen making bowls of popcorn for them, you felt someone come up behind you and put their arms around your waist. You jumped at the contact before turning and see Ji Sung, his cheeks red now.

You chuckled at him, shaking your head. As you moved to finish the popcorn, he suddenly blurted the question that had been plaguing his mind for weeks. “Will you be mine?”

Now, it was your turn to blush. It felt as though flames had enveloped your entire head as you turned to look him in the eye.

“I mean, I don’t think I can oppose to that,” you stated. “After all, I do have the best soulmate.”

From the doorway of the kitchen, there was an “ew” before Felix, who had been the one to witness it, shouted out to the others

“Ji Sung and Y/N are dating now! Do we have to move them to a different room?”

This was followed by a chorus of laughter that you and Ji Sung ignored as he took your hand in his own, squeezing it tightly before leaning over and speaking quietly into your ear.

“I still stand by my statement that you’re the best soulmate I could have ever asked for.”

#kpop fake texts #h-l-w-kpop #stray kids #han jisung #skz #stray kids jisung #stray kids han #han jisung x reader #jisung x reader #jisung #x reader #soulmate au #enjoy

[sakuurae]

overrated [m]

» summary: notorious bad boy, dong sicheng, was never one for attachment. well, not until he met you. surprisingly, there was more that met the eye of the reckless bad boy—something outrageously... pure.

❀ pairing: "bad boy”!sicheng & reader insert || university!AU

❀ includes: light fluff, humour, smut (trivial dom/sub elements, teasing [public & private], oral, sixty-nine, fingering, handjobs, penetration), alcohol mentions, light drug mentions

❀ wc: 41.7k

❀ note: I finally have a fic out for my baby ;; I hope you guys have fun reading this as much as i had fun writing it!! The word “bad boy” is in quotes because we all know that our baby winwin is a chaste little angel—for now ^~^

I made a few changes to this from the preview, but the most prominent one is the tense change, ahaha. I wanted to try writing in present tense, so this is a little different! And i dont think ill try this again... lmao. I also lost a lot of motivation to finish this along the way, so i apologize if this isnt the best. :( Nonetheless, i hope you enjoy!

Dong Sicheng has a tarnished reputation that is effortless for him to maintain.

Sicheng wreaks havoc day by day, practically stirring an immature calamity on university campus. He carries a storm wherever he goes, his footsteps equivalent to a roll of thunder. From his sour persona to the sharp way he talks; his words are bullets to those he aims them to. Yet, girls flock around him mindlessly and praise him like none other, falling for his recklessness without a care. On campus, students are either irked, find his personality rebarbative, or completely in love with the idea of him.

Sicheng is stellar in his own way, a star in the worst way possible that manages to outshine the rest. Men ache to be him while girls crave to spend a night with him—just one, enough to see what he truly, dutifully packed. But that is where Sicheng expeditiously draws the line, austere and grim, and leaves them. Like rain battering down on a scorching pavement, his trace disappears within seconds.

It is not because the spark of attraction towards the girl is absent, nor is it because he wants to bring each to the edge only to leave them hanging, adding each to the list of rejected individuals. It is due to something else—something borderline shameful to his existence and reputation.

And it is because not a single soul knows that Dong Sicheng, notorious bad boy and ruthless heartbreaker, is a virgin.

Dong Sicheng has not always been a scandalous “starboy.” Rather than being known for the negativity that surrounds him to this day, he used to be quite popular for factors of good. He used to have grades on the top tier, a miraculous talent in dance (and he still does to this day), but now he has made choices to never exhibit such favorable qualities. It is as if the tarnished name of “bad boy” stuck to his being like an annoying mask that can no longer come off.

Everything for Sicheng started back in high school, his breakthrough of reckless tactics. One accident led to another, like a perfect cascade that built him into who he is today. Impregnable pillars that held him up in the past to his prominent standing had crumbled down to rubble, and soon his pristine title became blighted.

All because Sicheng made the silly choice of dating.

Surprisingly enough, and as cliché as it can get, she was a member of the cheer squad. It started off simple: occasional dates to the cinema and unmitigated walks to the park. Though, despite those activities that might be seen as tedious, he developed genuine feelings for her and cherished every moment. Clearly, it was not him who diminished the relationship, dragging it down to nothing. It was due to her impatience. She was restive to win; to be more specific, to win a bet with her friends to get into the boy’s pants, and when Sicheng found out he was utterly heart broken at the least. So, the night she was ready to initiate and carefully play her cards, facing the false belief she would win the bet, he left her—hell, he never even showed his face to her since that night. Of course, she spat out angry curses at how he was gone like the wind.

Unwanted results were a consequence for him, for her sour tongue spread negative comments about Sicheng, and the fragile display of his innocent life fell apart like a poor house of cards. But rather than having those unwanted occurrences to run and take over his life, enveloping like an abrupt darkness, he took charge and swore that it would never happen again. Sicheng built himself up, never allowing anyone to cross his path or get close to him, and those who tried were given the cold shoulder. Physical contact was a virus for Sicheng, and he swatted individuals away left and right. The comments that spread around him were too much for his pure soul to handle at the time, so  he skipped out on school. But of course, others claimed he ditched for the hell of it. Word even went around that he was dating an older woman—which was more than false, but who was out there to listen to him?

Sicheng maintained his stellar grades through the calamity, keeping everyone at a perceptible distance away. As much as he wanted to avoid making contact with others, spreading his name around the school, the opposite result had occurred and he was helpless to it.

Brushing this off to the side, high school is also where everything began for you too—not that there was a prominent shift in your name to begin with. You used to hear word of a student named Sicheng messing around with girls and breaking hearts like it was a hobby, but you never paid mind, always focusing on your studies.

It was how things always were for you, and how things would forever remain.

After all, at the end of that line, you and Dong Sicheng made it to one of the most prestigious universities out there—with a purpose.

The sun beats down on the slip of Sicheng’s neck as he lingers with his friend, Jaehyun, around the university parking lot. The two of them are cracking jokes about meaningless things, conversing over trivial topics, and laughing the day away. It happens so often, as if daily, to the point it is a fixed part of their routine. Sicheng and Jaehyun would typically wait for their friends to come by, to which they all converse for a short while before driving uptown for a bite, or crash at one’s place.

Speaking of Sicheng’s friends, they are making their way towards him right now. One of them, recognizable as the stellar sportsman, Taeyong, has his eyebrows crossed together in a frustrated manner; he appears to be spitting curses to the other individual who graciously listens in—as much as he is drained from the taxing day.

Jaehyun’s and Sicheng’s conversation withers into silence as they watch the two boys stop their tracks in front of them. After Taeyong indignantly rakes a hand through his hair, Sicheng questions him what is wrong, for Taeyong’s frustrating is more than out in the open.

His friend laughs, informing the other boys of the news of the century. “Our boy, Lee Taeyong, just got rejected.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen, startled to the core at the newfound information. “Whoa, Yuta, are you serious? Taeyong… got rejected? That’s a first.”

“Well why do you care so much?” Sicheng asks Taeyong. “You can get anybody in this university except for that one girl. Well, any sorority girl that is.”

Taeyong chuckles lightheartedly, annoyed by his friends’ words. “Tell me about it. I’m just as shocked as you are.” Taeyong turns his head to Sicheng, a sour expression painted on his face. “And Sicheng, I care because I got rejected—for once! The tables actually turned here.”

Sicheng laughs, acknowledging his point. “Right, right. Sorry.”

Taeyong huffs in vexation, still disbelieved—and he will continue to remain that way for a good while. It is amusing to Sicheng, a surprising twist of events, to see one of the guys in his sacred group get turned down by a girl. After all, it is a rare occurrence. Each of them are captivating in their own way, and he knows it entirely; at least one of them would fit into the standards of members of the opposite sex. Occasionally, Sicheng wonders how he placed himself in such a group of charming and devilish individuals—also cocky, if he must say. It is as if the life he has tried so hard to orbit away from has made its way towards him with might, impressioning on Sicheng’s being for the rest of his life.

Sicheng does not feel like his whole self whenever he hangs around the rambunctious group of boys, but the fun that is frequently stirred makes the wasted time worth every second. Oh, and hearing all sorts of dish about their lives. That is just on the surface though. Surprisingly enough, beneath each of the boy’s outer shell of superiority and arrogance, is a softer, gentler version of who they exhibit themselves to be. Perhaps that is why Sicheng remained; it is how he became closer to each one of his friends. And after two years in the university they still remain together like peas in a pod.

Though, within those two years, Taeyong has never gotten rejected.

“So what’s the story?” asks Jaehyun, crossing his arms over his chest.

Yuta’s eyes flash in delight, excitement running throughout his body as he clears his throat. “Well, Taeyong—”

“Why are you the one telling the story?” Taeyong asks, sourness evident in his tone. “You’re going to add all these extra details again.”

Yuta shrugs, smirking at his friend. “Fine, I’ll get straight to the point”—Yuta takes a step towards the two boys, almost like he is ready to exchange confidential information—“but don’t laugh at him. We gave him enough shit for this today.”

Jaehyun laughs and assures Yuta of his light worries. “Don’t worry, just speak up.”

Yuta smiles. “There’s a girl who always stays by the bleachers during baseball practice, probably ‘cause her friend drags her around, but she doesn’t even pay attention to us. She’s always reading her book and studying all sorts of stuff. In my opinion though, the girl’s friend is pretty cute herself.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow in skepticism. “Okay, I don’t see the problem yet.”

“And this hotshot”—Yuta nudges Taeyong with an elbow—“thought it would be a fun idea to make her interested—in him, and not our practices. So out of nowhere, Taeyong started to talk to her, but she was never interested. It was like she started to hate us after he spoke to her. He said the girl looked easy to get, and then—”

“Come on, dude!” Taeyong groaned, cutting his friend off. “She had her nose in a book constantly and I swear when we locked eyes for the first time she wanted me.”

Sicheng shoves his fists into the pockets of his sweatshirt, stultified by the story. “Are you sure it wasn’t the look of ‘leave-me-the-fuck-alone’?”

“Hey!” Taeyong stomps.

“Anyway,” Yuta continues, “when someone’s reading, Taeyong, you’re not supposed to interrupt. Oh, not when they’re talking either… In short, she rejected him pretty harshly by saying—”

Taeyong flinches, grabbing onto Yuta’s sleeve and pulling him back. “No! Don’t tell them what she said, I—”

“‘You? And me—on a date? I had hopes in you being bright, but you must be horribly stupid to think I’d go out with someone like you. It’s one to annoy me, but it’s another to actually ask me on a date while I’m here with my friend studying. Oh, are you expecting me to hold your hand that has been up other girls’—”

“Okay, Yuta, that’s enough!” Taeyong badgered, hanging his head low. Shame dawns over his being like gargantuan waves, dragging down the last of his dignity. The laughter that pours from the boys’ lips appear endless, like a never ending waterfall of jocularity caused by Taeyong’s embarrassment. Taeyong’s ears tinge with pink the longer they keep up their fits of chuckles, commenting about the utter failure that is the highlight of their day.

Yuta continues feeding the details to the two boys as if the riveting information would satisfy them for an entire week, and Taeyong wells in his own congealing ignominy. After Yuta concludes the entire story, shamelessly talking about himself amid, the boys let out a sigh in relief. Until, of course, Taeyong opens his mouth again.

“She was bound to crack,” Taeyong hisses. “But not with me. I want to get back at her but I don’t know how.”

Jaehyun shifts his weight on his feet and crinkles his nose, his mouth twisting into a confused smirk. “Tae, how petty can you get? We’re in uni now.”

Sicheng releases a chortle, leaning closer to Jaehyun. “Very petty, apparently.”

“Though,” Jaehyun adds, “your situation reminds me of something horrible, myself.”

Sicheng’s gaze veers from Jaehyun to the older boy who is boring in his desolation. Taeyong stares at Sicheng for a while, almost scrutinizing him from top to bottom, and soon his lips quirk into a sly smirk. Sicheng raises his eyebrow, dumbfounded to his friend’s change of expression, and asks him what is wrong.

“Sicheng,” Taeyong says in a singsong voice. “Want to do me a solid?” Desperation drips onto his tone. Each word that leaves Taeyong’s mouth appears to be leading into the next thread of ideas that run through his mind; all Sicheng has to do is pay more mind to decipher what he is saying.

Sicheng remains silent for a while, unsure on what to say. The other boys exchange curious glances and wait for their friend to continue.

“Get her back for me—for rejection, please?” Taeyong requests.

Sicheng laughs out of pity, unamused by his question. “Taeyong, we’re too old to play games.”

“Seriously!” Taeyong persists, walking up to the younger boy. “I already have an easy, perfect plan. Just lead her on, get her on the edge, and leave her hanging—you know, what you usually did with girls back then.”

Sicheng clenches his teeth in disgust when he heard Taeyong’s reasoning. Back then? Right, Sicheng has completely forgotten that Taeyong, and his other friends, are aware of his prevalent title and the actions he has “committed” to achieve it. Sicheng forces out laughter, a disguise of how repulsive he finds the entire idea. “What the heck? You’re kidding me.”

“No, I’m not,” Taeyong insists. “Come on, go pick her up in your nice car or something. Take her out for a ride—then take her out for a ‘ride.’”

The thought of Sicheng witnessing a member of the opposite sex wholly naked makes him sweat profoundly, and he shakes his head, brushing aside Taeyong’s request. Shit, Sicheng never has evocative imaginations of any women before and he refuses to start here and now. “N-no thanks,” he denies, his eyes averting from Taeyong’s.

“But—”

“Enough of this,” cuts in Jaehyun with an announcement, “I’m starving. We’ve been waiting for you and Yuta for a while, can we just get something to eat already?”

“The billiards hall?” questions Yuta, fishing in his pocket for keys.

Jaehyun nods in response, and seconds later all of the boys separate into multiple vehicles, driving right on over to their local hangout.

Sicheng, situating himself in the driver’s seat, wonders who Taeyong is referring to. Sicheng is lost to why he is inquisitive to the girl’s identity. Maybe it is the fact there is a student out there who withstands Taeyong’s overflowing charms. If Sicheng was not driving, he would close his eyes and remain deep in his thoughts. He grips onto the wheel and shakes his head, removing the thoughts out of his mind to have a momentary peace. Though, the moment Jaehyun opens his mouth to complain about his empty stomach the evanescent peace is disrupted.

✾  ✾   ✾  ✾

Back at the university you are waiting under the overhang of the indoor swimming pool for your friend to exit. Your eyes scan the familiar campus, searching for out of the blue occurrences that would be an obtrusive scene; but of course, within your university, nothing far too estranged ever occurs.

Your friend, Sowon, has finally exited the building  with a gleam on her face. (y/n)!” she exclaims, latching her arm around yours. “Have you been waiting long? Why didn’t you just go inside?”

“No, don’t worry,” you assure. “And the smell of chlorine is far too much for me.”

Sowon smiles, innocent. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” you shrug off, hiking your bag over your shoulder. “Are we going to the bleachers again? I brought my biochem book so I can distract myself as you drool over the baseball players. You know, we have an exam tomorrow right?

“You’re always studying,” she complains. Sowon pulls you back when you start to walk away from her. “And no, the guys I’m usually there for left—so we have an afternoon to ourselves. I saw them leave when I was entering the locker room.”

“Wait, the guys you usually are there for?” you question, steepling your fingers to your chin as you attempt to recall the boys she is referring to.

Sowon forces a stern frown towards you, pursing her lips into a pout soon after. “Yeah, remember? The one you coldly rejected as you walked me to practice.”

“Oh, him,” you spat out distastefully.

Sowon giggles at your bitter response. “Taeyong!” she sings his name. “God, he was the cute one I was searching for, and he asked you on a date—and you rejected him. What were you thinking?”

You glared at your friend, unable to fathom what she has seen in a man like Taeyong. “What were you thinking for ever seeing something in him?”

“He’s—”

“The question was rhetorical.” You rolled your eyes, irked and unwilling to hear a response. “Well, if you’re not going to drag me anywhere then I’m going to head back to my apartment.”

Sowon grips onto her duffel bag, dutifully following you like a shadow as you begin to saunter to the street parking. “I’ll come with! We can study together—in quiet like you’ve been asking for.”

You reluctantly look at Sowon, thoughtfully considering whether or not she would disturb your restless studies. Knowing that she would be sustained, you release a sigh. “Fine, just for today though.”

After all, who would you be to reject any sort of study session? Your studies are always valuable to you, and they tend to be more productive with others in the milieu; you spend hours on end immersing yourself in books. Ever since high school it has been your goal to attend the university you are currently enrolled in—and your dream has been achieved after zero contact from the social sphere outside. You carried on your studies for a good while for the beginning of your first year at the institute, but afterwards was when everything crumbled down for you. The walls you built around yourself during high school to block students out had finally diminished, for girls were intruding on your personal space and boys were beckoning you over countlessly.

Honestly, it used to feel like you were placed in an outlandish environment against your will, which consequently made the environs that surrounded you wider. That is actually how you met Sowon, one of your closest friends. At first she pestered you like a wearisome fly, feeding off the few bits of energy you poured into arriving at the institute. After you became used to her presence the two of you became friends without verbally establishing it. Lunches together became a part of one another’s routines and so was hanging out in the city on empty weekends.

Oh, and she was the one who brought you to your first party uptown, which was where everything had taken a turn for the unexpected.

You, the bibliophile and quiet learner, attended one of the most dynamic parties of the year with your polar opposite, Sowon. Keeping details at a minimum and compacting everything within a nutshell, it was the first night you drank an immense amount of alcohol—and the first time you had sex.

It was spontaneous and out of the blue, but surprisingly you did not mind. Nervous would be an understatement to how you felt, but those anxious wrecks were becoming sparse as the scene carried on. The man who you had a drunken makeout session with and the one who prompted the idea of sex was nothing but talk. And you remember his name perfectly: Jung Jaehyun.

From the word you had heard many times about him, he was a stellar soccer player and an ultimate playboy. To be fair, you believed in the rumours you heard about him; it was what made you anxious in the first place; but, it was nothing surprising at the end.

Jung Jaehyun was a complete derision to his notorious group of friends—and you found that out during the unpremeditated night. Not that you cared or anything. He let you take over, and he said that it was the first time he allowed a girl to top him. But, pushing your own limit and his, you rode his cock intentively while dirty words spilled from your mouth. His skin became marked by your masterpieces as if his body was a blank canvas waiting for your color, and he enjoyed every second of it.

Before the heated scene with Jaehyun had escalated you thought the first time you had sex would be your last; oh, you were dead wrong. There was a sort of thrill you got during it, and some sort of element that made you spellbinded to the sensation. Or maybe it was the delight you had received after catching the completely drained out look on Jaehyun’s face. To say he was surprised by your skill in be would be a euphemism. What else was he supposed to feel though? The girl he recognized from the cafeteria and always had her face in a book showed up at a party. If that was not an easy shot to him, what else would be?

In short, Jaehyun was dead wrong.

You left him alone in the bedroom and made way for the exit, grabbing onto Sowon’s arm as you tried to weave past the crowded party house with quivering legs. The moment you were out of Jaehyun’s sight your face flushed with the deepest shade of roses, and Jaehyun laid on the bed in unmitigated disappointment.

It did not take long for stories about you to spread around the university. Drama that stood on equal par to high school turmoil stirred out of the university twist, but they were far too fraudulent for you to pay enough mind to. It was a shocker for others to hear that someone like you fucked Jung Jaehyun, for you were the definition of erudite and you never associated yourself much with others. And that factor was what drew other guys to test their own abilities with you.

Occasionally, the times you grew bored and had studied enough for upcoming exams, you would act like you had fallen into the other boys’ traps—for a good night to yourself. As weeks and months flew by it was some sort of unwonted rumour that you slept with a couple of men. It was always old news that no one believed except for those you slept with and Sowon, who knew the verity, and you were thankful for so.

After all, no one would ever think that one of the university’s taciturn bibliophiles would go around sleeping with men for fun.

You and Sowon spend the rest of the day avoiding distractions and diving into each other’s studies. It is an even longer night full of passages after extensive passages, and you fall asleep at the kitchen table as she knocks out on the comfort of your couch.

When you wake the following morning there is still an hour and a half prior to class beginning, and you shake Sowon until her eyes open. “Get up,” you order, ignoring the curses that spill from her lips since you disrupted her slumber. “I didn’t say you could sleep over! See, we got so distracted to the point we had to stay up late.”

“Sorry!” she laughs. “It’s not my fault I never come here often. You have a sweet place so it’s impossible for me to not get distracted. You usually linger at my dorm room, but your apartment is way cooler.”

You roll your eyes and drag her off the sofa. “Go hit the shower and borrow some of my clothes. We have to get to class.”

“But we have an hour!”

“And we have a test,” you argue, the glare you send towards Sowon providing hints of fear to shoot up her spine.

Sowon groans and makes her way to your bathroom to prepare for the day. You and Sowon get ready to head over to the university within half an hour, and quickly enter your vehicle. She then makes herself snug in the passenger seat, her eyes fluttering closed as if she is ready to knock out again right then.

“No sleeping,” you order her, twisting your keys into the ignition.

Sowon let out some complaints as you start to drive; the roads are surprisingly vast considering the time of day. A serene quietude fills the empty spaces of your car and you use the remaining time before the exam to rehearse the frequently leaned information in your mind for the upcoming exam. Considering the time of day, not many people would be present in the student parking lot at your institute. So, rather than fixating your vehicle on the far end of the busy street, you drive straight into the lot in search for parking—which is graciously everywhere.

You move your car to the center of the lot, parking it neatly between two vehicles, and step out with your arms stretching to the sky. Sowon yawns as she starts to trudge out of the car and to the lecture hall, her arm looping around your own as she moves in a desultory pace.

“I don’t get why we’re here earlier than usual…” she mumbles.

You sigh, pulling her to the hall. “You can nap in the room and I can study. It isn’t bad to be at class a little earlier.”

“God, now I completely understand why people don’t believe you sleep with a shit ton of guys,” she announces.

Sowon grumbles out of pain and allows you to drag her past the doors of the lecture hall, sitting her next to your seat. You leaf through your textbook, eyes perusing every single passage in hopes of absorbing the unknown information. To no surprise, after a good ten minutes, Sowon has drifted off into a gentle sleep. Sighing, you resume your studies until it is time for the assessment to start.

After a few more moments as time soars by, you peer up from your textbook. You notice that majority of the seats have been filled; you have been in your own expanse when you were studying, and it is the weight of the exam that halts time, allowing it to crash onto your shoulders.

✾  ✾   ✾  ✾

Twenty minutes past the designated time class begins; Sicheng finds himself speeding down the streets in high hopes of making it to the lecture hall within a heartbeat. It is as if the higher his speed meter went the baggage that falls on his shoulders from the teacher’s scornful gaze would not be as substantial as he expects.

“God damn it,” he spits out. “Note to self: no drinking on weeknights anymore—especially with a devastated Taeyong.”

Sicheng mutters other curses under his breath, the indignant words swirling with the blaring music that suffuses his vehicle. He is twenty minutes late to an exam, and the mere thought of this reality is poison to his thoughts. Sure, Sicheng the notorious “bad boy” and, claimed, epitome of devil-may-care, might not pay mind to trivial details—but when it comes to exams and studies he takes them very diligently. In fact, if all the rumours that circulate around Sicheng did not exist then he would be unrecognizable to everyone.

In a tight rush he erratically veers his vehicle into the parking lot and goes to his designated spot—which he finds out is taken, to his surprise. Confused, he studies the car that is present in his student lot for a good minute or so, only to become more vexed at the sight as more time passes by. “You’re fucking kidding me,” Sicheng sighs. “I didn’t pay the fee for student parking to have this happen.”

Sicheng turns his head over his shoulder and leans back, his arm resting behind the neck of the passenger seat as he swiftly exits the crowded lot. He zooms out of the classified parking tact and roams the streets, his eyes attentive to the road and curbs to find a vacant spot. The streets are fairly crowded with pedestrians and passersby, cars speeding down as if they are racing against one another amid their routinely commute. After another ten minutes he sees an empty spot at the far end of the bustling street, almost perfectly unoccupied as if it is to bee waiting for him. Sicheng kicks up the speed of his car and rushes to the spot, the carking honks of certain vehicles directing towards his recklessness. He finally parks after what feels like aeons.

Apparently it is immensely taxing to find a spot that is by the institute. Then again, Sicheng is running on three hours of sleep—a disturbed slumber created by Taeyong and Yuta cracking jokes as if being dormant is not in their dictionary—not a single cup of coffee, and a tired mind. He rests against his driver’s seat and takes a deep breath, his chest palpably heaving, and he closes his eyes as his head leans against the headrest.

Ready to drift off into a much needed, entailing sleep, Sicheng shakes himself up and gets a mental reminder that he is already far too late for an exam. He bolts out of his vehicle and begins to zip past the streets, the chill of the wind pricking at his skin with every fast, large step he takes towards the institute. Sicheng is using the last of his energy to reach the lecture hall, and he wastes the remaining pieces of his mind to read the directory boards.

When he storms into the lecture hall it is as if he is a raging tornado, bringing down a few loose papers by the desk near the door. Out of breath and making his way to the front, he grabs onto an exam that is lazily, and angrily, being held by his professor, and begins to sit at the first vacant spot available.

The disturbance is vexatious enough for your eyes to peer from your paper to study the interference. All you see is a rowdy boy, a recognizable face from Taeyong’s obstreperous group of friends, and high school, finding a solace on a plastic chair within the room. You sigh, shaking your head in disappointment before you return to your exam.

The boy’s distant rummaging for supplies fades away from your senses after a few moments, allowing you to give complete focus to your exam.

Sicheng briefly glances at the assessment before him and releases a sigh of relief, mollified that the content on the paper is everything he can claim he has an expertise in. Biochem is never a struggle for Sicheng—if he even struggled with studies to begin with. The years he has poured into studying sedulously in high school truly paid off, from treating it like a hobby and using it as an escape from the nasty rumours that disseminated around him. He used to be the top of his class while he was in high school, and that was what earned him the open door to his present, prestigious university.

The longer Sicheng stares at the test the quicker the answers arrive to him. His pencil is creating scribbles all over the scratch paper, and the solutions piece together not long afterwards. It takes him forty-five minutes for the exam to be thoroughly completed and skimmed through, and he grins at himself as if he has achieved a nonpareil victory. Around this time you finish the exam as well, taking longer than usual by returning to skipped questions and reviewing your work.

Contemporaneously, you and Sicheng make each other’s way to the front and hand the exam to the professor, who accepts it with reluctance. Well, to be completely true to the story, you halt the boy’s stride by stepping in front of him, practically shoving the assessment to your professor. Sicheng cocks an eyebrow upwards towards your miniature stunt, hoping it is an accidental disrespect, and waits.

With belongings in your hand you leave the lecture hall with haste. You hope that the last minute studying for the exam is worth it; after all, it is a refresher. Looking back at the room, Sowon is still sitting at her spot with a furrowed brow, torn on which formula to use for one of the many onerous questions.

Sicheng, on the other hand, keeps his eyes on you as you walk out the door, blinking twice to your phantom-like action to leave the hall. He then proceeds to talk to the professor for a short while about the following unit. Soon afterwards he meets up with one of his friends, Taeyong, and they roam the university campus for a good while amid conversing about random topics in regards to women and pointless get-togethers.

“So, Sicheng,” Taeyong starts, “our next party is going to be next week.”

Sicheng looks at his friend, engrossed by the conversation. Hearing about parties is either music to Sicheng’s ears, or the complete opposite if there is a vital project or assessment close. “Really? I’m down, where is it though?”

Taeyong shrugs. “Probably at Yuta’s. We haven’t had a party at his place in a while.”

“More like we haven’t been there in a while—it’s like he wants to keep us away from his shit.”

The boy lets out a laugh, agreeing with his younger friend patently. “We can stop by his place when he comes back. For now, we can just chill out in your car.”

“Yeah, we—”

Sicheng cuts his words short. It is not until Taeyong speaks the final statement for him to recall it: his car is not in the student parking lot, and it is the momentous event of the day. Taeyong becomes startled at the sudden groan Sicheng lets out that is quite similar to an enraged beast waking.

He rubs a palm on his face as he says, “Right, my car isn’t here.”

Taeyong’s curiosity catapults rapidly before he asks, “What are you talking about? This is where your spot is.”

“I know,” he says with a sigh, shoving his fists into his pocket. His face is contorting into an expression of annoyance, a childish pout appearing on his pursed lips. “But someone was in my designated parking spot. Tae, you know what I had to do?” He swats his friend’s arm. “I had to drive all the way to the end of this busy street just to park—I could have gotten hit if I wasn’t careful!”

“Well, good thing you were careful.” A small fit of titters is impossible for Taeyong to fight when he heard the lilliputian story, it being the highlight of his week.

Sicheng sternly frowns at his friend. “It’s not funny. I don’t pay the parking fee for this uni for nothing. I was late today too, and it had to be on the day of an exam.”

“Sorry, bro,” Taeyong comforts. Well, an excuse of comforting his downhearted friend to be precise. “If it makes you feel better I’ll drive you to the end of the street so you don’t have to risk your life on the sidewalk.”

Taeyong’s frolicsome tone brings out Sicheng’s querulous side, like a storm that has been waiting to strike its thunder, but the younger boy is in no mood to shoot back any rude remarks.

“Come on”—Taeyong urges his friend with a hand—“let’s go. Then we can text Jae and them to meet up at the billiards hall later before we head to Yuta’s.”

Sicheng stares at the vehicle that is occupying his space for a few more seconds before shadowing Taeyong to the opposite side of the parking lot, brows still together in a derailing manner. The walk to Taeyong’s vehicle is a good ten minutes, considering the wide parking tract. Once the two boys reach the desired car they plunk inside and prepare to drive.

Taeyong’s engine purrs and he begins to back out of his spot; shortly, he slowly makes his way around the area and heads for the exit. Sicheng is reposing in the passenger seat, his eyes closed as if he aches for a deep sleep to make up for last night—and quite honestly, he does. The smooth drive is going well until Taeyong’s car comes to an abrupt halt, causing Sicheng to open his eyes in a desultory rate to gawk at the reason why.

“Why’d you stop?” Sicheng asks, looking at his friend.

Taeyong glowers, displeasure priming on his features. “People are crossing the street. You know, one of them being the girl that rejected me.”

Sicheng bats his eyes, blinking the sleep away as he leans forward, examining the students. One of them, Sicheng recognizes within a dream, and he is ephemerally caught off guard. It is the same girl who shoved himself in front of him after the simple test, cutting off the thread of his actions swiftly—in fact, she is you.

You are dragging your feet to your car as Sowon’s arm is compactly looping around your own, almost dragging you back. She is voicing an exasperating legion of complaints about the exam, constantly claiming that her life has now come to an end after that devastating assessment. Then again, this is just a typical Sowon.

Sicheng is ready to lounge and nap in the passenger seat until he noticed the transparent path you are walking on. At it was to his parking lot; to your vehicle.

“Wait a second,” Sicheng mumbles, his gaze narrowing on your figure. He roots himself in the passenger seat of his friend’s car until he is sure you are going to his designated spot, and Taeyong ogles at his friend in unmitigated dubiety.

“Dude, that’s definitely the girl that rejected me. That’s—”

“Her,” Sicheng completes mindlessly. Sicheng notices the way you are fishing for the keys in your bag, and later unlocked your car.

Taeyong speaks some more about you as he rambles on and on, but Sicheng is highly inattentive to his friend’s words, for he is far too invested in his anger building up inside of him. God, because of you he is more than late to the exam, and it seems like the fee he paid for the parking is put to waste. Exasperated, he unbuckles his seatbelt and impulsively exits Taeyong’s car, marching towards you in an indignant manner.

Taeyong’s eyes blow wide to his friend’s brisk exploit, calling out for him, but nothing stops Sicheng’s bourning stride.

“Excuse me,” Sicheng calls out for you. Rather than catching your attention it enraptures Sowon’s, who quickly tugs onto your sleeve to notify your awareness. The drag Sowon creates pulls you back, and you shake your arm out of her grasp with a whine.

“What is it now?” you question her. Her head is facing elsewhere when you bombard her with the question, and your gaze follows her rising arm that is pointing to a man a short distance away. With an angry gait he approaches your being after a few moments, and he is a short yard from you.

The man you recognize as Sicheng clears his throat. “You parked in my spot today. It’s actually assigned to me.” Sicheng tilts his chin high as if he is looking down at you, but the words that left his lips come out gentler than what anyone would expect.

It takes you a moment to assess his words and Sowon creeps off to the side, watching the spectacle like it is an all-star movie. Your gaze fleets from the parking lot ot Sicheng, and you release a huff of breath. “Your spot?” you repeat distastefully. “I thought parking at this university was for whoever gets it first.”

Sicheng crinkles his nose at your mistake, how conspicuous it is. “Y-yeah,” he stutters, attempting to approach the incident in a collected fashion. With none of his friends around he has no point in keeping up the malicious bad boy mask he created. “You’re wrong. There’s actually a fee we pay to—”

“If you bothered to show up to class on time, especially on a day of an exam, maybe this would’ve never happened,” you comment. You notice the way Sicheng gets taken aback by your sour tongue, for he never thought that someone like you would speak with flames, matches igniting every word that left your mouth. The fire scorches Sicheng’s dignity—enough to burn it to ashes.

Sicheng’s mouth gapes as he agitates at your response; it really is the polar of what he expects to come from the pretty lips of yours. You are a sweet trap in his eyes, the epitome of one. A simple appearance with angelic features to him, but that one statement reveals all the poison that vests within your being. “I’m sorry,” Sicheng lets out with a laugh, “what did you say?”

“You know what I said,” you articulate, not willing to spend another second conversing with him. There is an ache to return to your apartment after that arduous exam and create comfort in the familiar confinement, but here Sicheng is, preventing you from doing so.

Sicheng’s lips twist into a smile, his impatience running thin. “Look, girl, I—”

“(y/n),” you correct. “My name is (y/n), Sicheng.”

Sicheng abides to your patience and he takes a second to calm himself down before he blows a fuse. “How do you know my name?” he questions, steering away from the topic at hand. The mask he has constructed for a day-to-day basis has come out, hoping it would rip an apology out of you. “Ah, of course. Who doesn’t?”

Though, to his surprise and your unamusement, the opposite occurs. "Aside from us attending the same high school and hearing all the rumours about you, the girls who sat behind us wouldn't shut up for a good two minutes about how ‘adorable you look when tired’—during an exam. I'm upset the professor didn't notice.”

Sicheng shrugs, pushing his interest about the girls’ words to the back of his mind. “Really? If I was not late due to someone taking my parking then that wouldn’t have happened. Half an hour, (y/n).”

“You can be ten minutes late, twenty, or even half an hour—I don’t care.” You start to walk to the driver’s side of your vehicle, opening the door vehemently.

Sicheng continues to follow you halfheartedly and questions, “Seriously?”

Your hand hangs off the car door and you toss him a look of annoyance. Meanwhile, Sowon slips onto the passenger side. “Do you only know how to ask questions in disbelief?” you spit out to him.

“No, I’m just—”

“You seem surprised that I’m talking to you this way,” you think aloud. You pull on the strap of your backpack and start to take your baggage off, lobbing it onto the backseat.

Sicheng swallows another breath of air, waiting for you to continue. “A little.”

You indicate a sound of annoyance and you start to step into your vehicle. “You’re at our university, Sicheng, so you need to have a purpose. If you were seriously a hardcore 'bad boy' as everyone says, then we wouldn't be having this conversation. Why? Because you wouldn't be here."

With that, you shut the door on the boy and start up your engine.

Sicheng’s jaw drops to the floor as he watches you back out from his assigned spot. Nothing but raw shock takes over him and he is more than startled that you would talk in such a lethal fashion—especially towards him. In fact, he is not used to it. Someone has little to no interest in him, and treated him with such impudence to the point his inquisitiveness soars. Maybe the rumours he heard about you are true, and that you possibly did have a prestige of getting into countless of men’s pants.

You roll your window down once you completely back out of the driveway, only to say to the boy, “I won’t park here tomorrow for you though.”

And there is no apology. The last sound he hears from your vehicle is the excited screaming that comes from your friend, who is equally surprised at your attitude towards the notorious bad boy.

Sicheng remains planted onto the concrete of the tract until Taeyong pulls up next to him, snapping him out of his daze. “That doesn’t seem like it went well,” Taeyong points out the obvious.

Sicheng scratches the back of his neck and shuffles involuntarily. “Tell me about it… Say, Tae, you were interested in her?” Sicheng is unable to put it together: why would Taeyong ever show an interest to someone with a sour personality like yours? It is as if you are a rotten apple that would blight those who linger around you; absolutely abrasive.

Taeyong nods, somewhat ashamed from the brief past. “Yeah, why? Was it a mistake? Isn’t she kinda’ cute?”

Sicheng gives it some thought before shrugging. “I guess.”

“Don’t you want to get her back? You know, people say that she’s always down for a good fuck. You should do your signature: leave ‘em hanging.” Taeyong questions, implying more than just a request in his tone. He speaks with certainty, inexorable to his plan. His lips quirk into a cunning smirk, an expression that would enchant women, but Sicheng merely laughs it off.

He shakes his head, seeing no use with meddling in rumours. “No point. Come on”—he enters Taeyong’s vehicle, shielding how enraged he is with a smile—“let’s just go to the billiards hall.”

✾  ✾   ✾  ✾

For majority of the drive, along with the car radio’s convivial tunes to set the impressible mood, Sowon’s voice entangles with the music. She speaks like a broken record that is unable to shut off, and you really want to mute her as if she is a rebarbative vinyl. It is not because you feel animus towards her, as hard as that may be to believe, but Sowon refuses to quit maundering about your daring exploit to Sicheng. Sowon is more than aware with who Sichen is, or, to be exact, who he makes himself to be; after all, the rumours have spread around the first day of university like wildfire. Oh, and he lingers within Taeyong’s compact crowd.

“I still can’t believe you talked to him like that,” Sowon lets out, her arms animatedly flailing around.

You roll your eyes and grip onto the wheel, paying close attention to the road as you search for the correct street to turn at. It is a good mid-afternoon, the preeminent time to eat lunch with your friend, and, with empty stomachs, you are both looking for a delectable place. Each time Sowon speaks of the scene you remain quiet, not allowing yourself to reply to her petulant reaction.

And so she continues, “Most girls are either too infatuated with Sicheng to even commit a fraction of what you did, or are entirely afraid of him. It’s strange though—like he and his group just has a spell over girls but you’re immune to their abilities.”

“You’re speaking of them like they’re witches,” you say with a laugh.

“They are,” she jests, a wide smile crossing her face. “I didn’t go to the same school as Sicheng, but I heard so much stuff about him.”

You raise an eyebrow, allured by her words and how she views the story of the notorious starboy. You ponder how much it differs from what your information of him, how you are most likely the one who is aware of the truth. “Like what?” you ask her.

Sowon hums a tune to the melody of the current song, her eyes upped as if she is soaring past her thick clouds of thought. “I heard he messed around with a lot of girls—more than he did in this uni. But it was all for fun. Those girls are so lucky—they got to go in his pants!”

“Yeah,” you agree, thoroughly carefree, “the boy rarely showed up to school when the year was ending though.”

Sowon giggles, her fingers hovering over her mouth. “I heard too. He went around with his friends downtown to sleep with older women. They were probably the most wild group out there.”

“He still acts like it,” you mumble.

“Because he still is like that—he doesn’t seem like the type of guy to change.” Sowon lets out a frown. “Since Taeyong is interested in you, should I just go for Sicheng?” she asks with a smirk.

For the first time throughout the entire drive your gaze breaks from the road; you study her buoyant face in hopes that this is another one of her jokes. “You’re talking as if you’re a part of their group.”

Sowon tilts her head. “What do you mean?”

“You know, the instead-of-getting-in-his-pants-i’ll-go-for-their-friend’s.”

“What?”

“Nevermind,” you sigh. “It’s funny, I know Sicheng in a completely different way.

Sowon’s mouth gapes and she leans in over the center console, inching closer to invest herself in the details that are about to spill from your mouth. She acts as if she is a overwrought reporter, ready to receive the news that would be the talk of the century. “How so?” she questions. Then, a lightbulb flickers on in her hand—one that has been shut off for aeons. “Right, you went to the same high school as him!”

“Unfortunately,” you add. “I had to deal with the cheer team members in my class whispering everyday about how Sicheng broke their friend’s heart. Then when that was over, I had to put up with all sorts of girls being intrigued by how heedless he was. I never even crossed paths with him until today—thankfully.

“Sicheng was a stellar student from what I could tell. The times he were present in school he was always studying and such, or maybe wasting daylight in the dance room. That’s why I refuse to believe he’s a stupid starboy that loves getting in other’s pants. That boy’s probably a total softie—you should have seen how easy he went on me from earlier.”

Sowon’s eyebrows are raised, and she is somewhat taken aback from your description of the ultimate bad boy. She sees Dong Sicheng on a completely divergent path from you, so hearing new facets about him—from your experience—come as a large shock. She wonders if you are truly correct; she has heard so many stories like how he was an obstinate biker, but quit after a horrible accident. Word used to go around that he smoked dependently until he met Jaehyun. Everything was absolutely preposterous, but others asininely believed in everything they heard.

Laughter escapes her parted lips once more and she leans back in her chair, her head turning out the window as she thinks more about your words, imagining Sicheng as a milksop. It is futile for her to attribute the characters you provided her with to someone like him, for the image of Sicheng all around Taeyong and the other negligent personages is imbued into her mind. Almost like it is carved onto a tomb until eternity.

“I guess so,” she acknowledges. “So he’s kind of like you in a way.”

“What do you mean by that?” you ask her, defensive.

Sowon thinks for a few seconds, struggling to find the words to say. “Well shit spreads about you sleeping with a lot of guys, but no one believes it. Actually, you’re not the person people think you are—same with Sicheng. You’re my cute little bookworm, but to others you are a sex goddess who—”

“I don’t want to hear the details,” you say with a slanted grin.

“Moving on,” Sowon chants. “Now you know to not park there again. He’d probably break your windows or something next time.”

You raise an eyebrow at her words, parking your vehicle at the curb of the retail restaurant plaza. There is a specific look that sketches on your face, one that insinuates an instigating action that is bound to evoke a mirthful reaction.

“Would he?” you question yourself, voice inaudible to Sowon, who is preparing to exit the car. It takes a couple of seconds for you to come to a personal conclusion, and you result in going back on your word.

An unspoken game has been declared between you and Sicheng, and you are ready to make the first move tomorrow. Rather than having guys chase your back for a special night, it is your turn to chase a man for the sole purpose of teasing.

You and Sowon ate a fairly large lunch yesterday, and after dropping her back off to the dorm you got the best amount of shut eye you have had in weeks. But that is because you slept early, not due to sleeping in.

Once the first light of the morning seeps through your sheer curtains you rise as if it is your alarm, and you become ready for school within a short amount of time. It is pointless to spend a lot of time to look your best that early in the morning, so you keep apparel simple with leggings and a sweatshirt. Then, you enter your vehicle with your belongings and start to drive with a wide grin on your face.

Vastly emptier than usual, you cruised the streets in the ensconcement of your seat and comfort of your car. With the windows rolled down you have the gentle breeze whistling through your hair somewhat, and it all comes to an end when you reach the student parking lot. The more you get closer to the designated spot that is not yours, the more giddy you become. You are humming a tune in joy and narrow your eyes down on Sicheng’s spot, eager to fill it with your annoying vehicle.

Once you stop the car and pull out your keys you send Sowon a text, informing her that you have arrived at the university. You slip your phone into your bag and start to walk to the girls’ dormitory, almost dancing with each step towards the building. A good ten minute walk from the parking lot is what it takes for you to reach the entrance to the dorms, and Sowon meets up with you, opening the door to allow you inside. She greets you with an excited hug, dragging you to her dorm room as if she is an electrified child ready to play a few games.

“I’m surprised you decided to come early,” she comments, letting you waltz inside her dorm.

The familiar scent of vanilla created by her lightened up candles kisses your nose, and you take a seat on her messy bed. “Me too, but my morning’s been surprisingly well.”

“Mm, I wonder why,” she says in a singsong voice. Sowon looks out her window, observing the condensation present on the thick glass. “Isn’t it a long walk from where you usually park? It’s kinda’ cold out this morning,” she comments, a little worried.

You assure her with a smile, waving your hands to shy off her concerns. “Don’t worry, I parked closer this time.”

“Where?” she asks, lounging in her bean bag.

“My new spot,” you declare with credence, “where else?”

Sowon’s eyes blow wide, shocked at the confession that easily slips from your lips. “No way.”

There are stars twinkling in your eyes from the incoming victory, and you nod to confirm her suspicions. Like stated, it is a game that you and Sicheng have never spoken of, and you have every intention of winning.

✾  ✾   ✾  ✾

When Sicheng wakes he is not behind the time schedule like before. There is no blare of his phone alarm to snooze, no ostentatious early morning yelling from his friends; in fact, there is nothing but silence, and it sends him a plethora of peaceful sentiments. Sitting up in his bed for a while, he thinks deeply amid the calming quietude. It is enjoyable: the serenity of the morning with no disruptions, and he wonders if this is what his life would constantly be like if he purged the mask he set up for himself.

Sicheng presently makes the choice to get out of bed and prepare himself for a placid day. He strays away from his phone to avoid the rowdy group chat and he moves slower than usual, like a tranquil streamline. He is only going with the flow of the aerodynamic, allowing it to carry him throughout his day. Breakfast is small and simple, and he dresses up for school. It does not take long for him to enter his car and begin driving to the university.

The drive is strangely quiet, pellucid. There are not many clouds in the sky, like the sun has scared them all away, and the heat pours into his vehicle to create a slight discomfort. With his eyes on the road, periodically veering to the atmosphere, there is a contrail that he seems like he is following to reach the institute. Sicheng hums in thought and is going through his mental checklist as he drives into the student parking lot. The day is peculiarly calm, and it constructs a perfect morning for Sicheng.

Until he reaches his paid parking spot, only to find that same vehicle from the day before occupying it.

As if his mind is still slow, like he is wakening from a recent slumber, he stares at the unavailable spot for a good while before reacting. Sicheng takes quite a while to fathom your daring action, and he only responds with a tired sigh, making his way to the busy street to park his vehicle. So much for his good morning.

Sicheng has a sea of sheer purple underneath his eyes to indicate his tiredness, and his mouth is being dragged down into a frown that intimidates others that walk by. He is trudging through the campus in a search for his friends, completely irked by your new stunt. There are flames that are hazing around his being, warning students away from him—a mere lock of eyes would be enough to burn their pneuma.

In the distance underneath the tree in the center of the campus Sicheng sees Yuta perusing an article on his phone. “Hey, Nakamoto!” Sicheng calls out to him, smug as ever.

The sound of his name enraptures his attention and he diverts his awareness to his younger friend. “Sicheng!” he responds, walking towards the boy. “You’ve been dead since last night—we were making plans this morning in the chat, what’s up?”

“Oh, I couldn’t find my phone,” he responds rapidly, quick in thought. “What’s going on?”

“The usual,” Yuta laughs. “Why are you coming from that side? The parking lot is on the other.”

Sicheng’s expression runs niche, and he is motionless for a brief second or two. “My parking got jacked.”

“Again?” Yuta asks, taken aback. “You know, this is actually kinda’ funny.”

Sicheng rolls his eyes and roots his fists into his pockets, shifting his stance. “It’s not. My money is being wasted for someone else to take my fucking spot.”

“Take it back,” Yuta says without thought. He is speaking flamboyantly, like jokes are the only way he can keep up a conversation.

Sicheng looks his friend in the eye austerely, and Yuta, one who typically shares the flames of anger with Sicheng, is being scorched by his look alone.

“Yeah,” Sicheng breathes. “Let me just crash my car right into hers, you know? So none of us can use the spot.”

“You can always break her windows,” Yuta proposes.

Sicheng gruffs, raking a hand through his hair in a frustrated manner. “Do I look like I’m in the mood to get in trouble at this point in the semester?”

“Didn’t you always used to get in trouble back then anyway? This isn’t anything new for you,” Yuta falsely claims.

A few moments is what Sicheng needs to comprehend Yuta’s words. Of course Yuta would think that; Sicheng used to go to the counseling office every other day for help with the transfer program, and to vent about the stress that eats him from the inside, out. For a good week rumours had spread about Sicheng—to no surprise, and yet again—that his mother was forcing him into counseling at the school to work on his personality.

Recalling that episode in his life makes Sicheng sigh in disappointment, for he has a brief epiphany that everyone’s outside opinion of him is based off false columns that built him to where he is.

But all Sicheng can let out is an, “I guess.”

Yuta and Sicheng start to walk around the campus in search for the other two boisterous boys; for the most part, Sicheng is complaining endlessly about the taken parking spot. And the second they walk past the dormitory building, he shuts up. Not because he has been rambling seamlessly or that he dedicated ten minutes of his life to grousing, but because he sees someone not too far from him, recognizing the person within a heartbeat.

“God damn it, (y/n),” Sicheng spits out abhorrently.

“(y/n)?” Yuta repeats, looking at his friend. “Oh, the one who rejected Taeyong?”

The answer is obvious, but Yuta still commented unsurely amid Sicheng angrily striding your way. You and Sowon have recently waltzed out of the dormitory, giggling from miniature jokes.

“Hey,” Sicheng calls out to you.

Your jocular giggles wither into silence, and you stare at the recognizable boy before you. “Hey there, starboy.”

Getting straight to the point, Sicheng calms himself down with two deep breaths prior to continuing. You notice the way his chest puffs in and out, indicating that he is trying to lock the choleric fraction of his personality away.

“What happened to not taking my spot now? I don’t pay half a grand to have you take my parking,” he informs, forcing a smirk on his lips.

Sowon stares at Sicheng, intimidated by his fuming presence. Her gaze is exchanging from you and the boy, and she takes a step back as if a quarrel is ready to take place. Yuta on the other hand, who is leisurely observing from a close distance, takes entertainment.

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to walk that far again,” you tell him jovially. A part of you wants to be honest with Sicheng, to just announce ‘ Let this game begin ’ to see his next move, but instead you wrig in excitement.

Yuta joins Sicheng’s side, nudging the younger boy with his elbow and waggling his eyebrows to imply something else. It is a golden chance for Sicheng to break out a premier line, but not for you. If it is not obvious enough, their petulant antics have no effect on yourself; like you have a shield around you that is infrangible.

“You have to make it up to me somehow then,” Sicheng proposes, taking a step closer.

You cock an eyebrow upwards and tilt your head as if it would help you assess his words. Seriously, of all times and the array of things he can say to lighten up the situation, he has to draw out the poorest of utterances.

Letting out a titter, you take a step as well and tilt your chin up, a leonine presence coming over you. “How so?”

A fit of chuckles that failed to be sustained is audible in the background; of course, coming from Yuta. Sowon looks at the other boy and scrutinizes him for a good while, and when the two outsiders lock eyes, Yuta winks her way.

Sicheng swallows his breath, feeling tyrannized by you. It is not a normal occurrence for Sicheng to feel subdued by another member of the opposite sex; he usually has a way with words; typically his smile is all that is needed to charm others. His gaze averts from you and he flutters his lashes, silent for a couple of moments. Fuck, it really was not a smart choice to prompt something he is not able to finish.

Staring at the boy in front of you breaks down his bravado, it tumbling down as if it is an unstable house of cards. You wait and wait for Sicheng to answer your question, but he remains silent, uneasy as the tension in the air rises.

“Come on, starboy,” you edge, smirking from the prominent standing of having the upper hand, “Finish what you started.”

Sicheng releases a sigh, brushing off the weight of the moment but turning his back to you. “There’s no point,” he articulates, walking back to his friend. Yuta’s eyebrows are raised in a fashion of attentiveness, unable to pinpoint the exact reason for Sicheng dropping the tight scene.

The moment the back of Sicheng’s head is what you are spitting your false sense of superiority towards, Sicheng’s expression withers into relief. It is like the strength he utilizes to hold up the mask of braggadocio is not even a fraction of what he needs to face you head on. Giving it more thought, Sicheng recalls the few hearsays that once spread the campus about you—and frequently the same words still make rise—and how you truly are not the donnish student you display yourself to be.

With his suspicions rising, yours are sensibly confirmed.

As Sicheng walks to Yuta, the older boy looping his arm around the younger’s neck to pull him close and hound his friend for backing out, your eyes cannot tear from his figure until he is out of sight.

Narrowing down your thoughts, you conclude that Dong Sicheng is nothing but talk, the epitome of overrated; the personality he exhibits to others a mere act he has molded himself to fit in almost perfectly. But it is the faulty fraction that allows you to see through his false persona. With a smug grin, he dissembles his true self inside. And knowing this defective element absolutely galvanizes you, prompting you to maintain the unspoken game.

Thinking in terms of a game, there are those who fear him and those who ache to be near the being of vehement carelessness. And then there is you: someone who has always been made aware of his noxious existence since high school, but has chosen to stray far away from him. It is like crossing paths has kindled the start of a spirited stratagem, and you want to give Sicheng a taste of what he is unobtrusively missing, which is a night of zealous coition.

You are snapped out of your daze when Sowon waves her hand in front of your face, catching your attention abruptly. Looking at her, you smile triumphantly.

“Seriously? What are you thinking?” she asks you from witnessing your farcical stunt. “Sicheng’s going to get you back for this. I heard that the last time sometime tried to reject him his friends—”

“Everything you hear about Sicheng is so absurd,” you acknowledge with a breathy laugh. “But whatever he does—if he wants to do anything—it’ll be amusing.”

Sowon presses a palm to her forehead before dragging you to the main path, pulling you to the direction of the lecture hall. “You really are diabolical,” she comments.

Shrugging, the two of you chuckle, pushing the recent moment to the back of each other’s minds, refusing to speak about it until the short future.

✾  ✾   ✾  ✾

Yuta’s hands are flying all over the air as he talks animatedly, passionate about his thoughts from the recent encounter with you. If one is to look towards his way, they would assume the worst; after all, Yuta is speaking with anger and a sour tongue.

“You should have said, ‘Make it up to me tonight’!” Yuta exclaims, annoyed at his friend’s reluctance. “It was the perfect chance, and you said the opening line to it. It was your open window, and all you had to do was jump out!”

Sicheng grumbles in annoyance. “There was seriously no point.”

“Um,” Yuta hesitates, “yes, there was! Are you forgetting about sex? You would have given her a night to remember.”

“It’s not like I want that,” Sicheng comments, his voice silent like a whisper. He thinks about his statement a little more, assessing Yuta’s confused expression before Sicheng adds, “I mean, f-from her.”

Yuta sighs in defeat; it is anticlimactically futile to argue with Sicheng. “You’ve always been the softest one out of all of us. It’s kinda’ funny, everyone else thinks so highly of you to the point they fear you. But you don’t want to fuck around with that many girls. When was the last time you even had a good fuck?”

Sicheng rolls his eyes at Yuta’s persistence. “Long enough, I suppose.”

“That’s why at my party next week, you’ll score big—maybe.”

“So the party’s really going to be held at your place?” Sicheng questions.

Yuta nods his head, confirming his question. “You bet. Get ready, ‘starboy,’ you’re probably gonna’ score it big.”

Sicheng’s breath is lodging in his throat, unsure on what to think about the upcoming party. Wild festivities are a must within the group, and every so often they are held—each being deemed as the party of the month, always to be better than the last. As much as the others look forward to them; men looking to score and women searching for a long night; Sicheng somewhat dreads them. It would be questionable if he is absent without a valid reason, and studies is not rational enough in their books. So, typically at intimate gatherings like those he would stray off to the side and avoid conversing with drunken individuals, and leave after a few hours of sitting and moping.

Usually girls would crowd him though, but a party is the last place Sicheng would want to converse with anybody. The impression of the other individual would substantially drop; it practically screams that they are there to get into someone’s pants. When Sicheng is being held down by a sphere of excited partiers, his friends orbit around him and prompt him for a drink or two, but it always leads into a few more.

Whoever would be lucky would be leading Sicheng into a bedroom where the only occupiers are the two of them, and, sure, kissing would occur and sensual touches, but once clothes begin to get discarded Sicheng becomes reluctant. Though, to the other’s eyes, it seems he has lost interest within a heartbeat, growing bored when they try harder to catch his attention again. Sicheng would try to talk them out of it—if he is not too flustered by the sight of a half naked body. However, it is his turn for him to rid himself of his apparel, he stands up irresolutely and heads straight for the door, no words needed.

In short, parties are no fun for the false starboy.

You have never been one to dwell within your thoughts. Problems pass by like quick showers of rain, disappearing within a couple of moments, and negative reflections are always shattered. However, the rumination of the damned boy, Dong Sicheng, has never left your mind. It is impressioned onto your brain like ancient carvings, and they do not seem to be disappearing any time soon.

Throughout your two years of being present within the university, the stir of events you have witnessed recently, and the game you set up for yourself have to be the most eventful. It keeps you occupied, pushes you to the edge of your seat in excitement, and gives you another action to do aside messing around with guys who crave a taste of you. In fact, with the line of guys who test the rumours and theories of your sex skill that you once found alluring, they no longer have a spot in your aspirations. All because Sicheng is in your radar, and he is the next target.

It is interesting to see how the events have cascaded upon one another: you never batted an eye to Sicheng in high school, now all you want is to tease him. Conceivably, you want to tarnish that “bad boy” reputation that surrounds him—because that would be your greatest accomplishment. Hearing the nosy speculations that encompass Sicheng makes you burst out in laughter. Who everyone sees as a negligent but charming man is nothing but rotten to you. Some say that he used to get in fights uptown when he was in high school, and others say that he never studied, always skipping class to find older women. Though, after attending the same high school as him and noticing the trivial particulars, taking every detail into consideration, Sicheng is far too overvalued.

Sicheng skipped class from the negative insinuations that surrounded him, and everything made sense to you within seconds. Almost like the sky has cleared after its storm, you gained a decent understanding of him and who he makes himself to be.

Sowon has a point: you and Sicheng are similar in many ways, yet differ substantially at the same time. Both you and the starboy have speculatory gossip besieging to the point going against it is futile. There is even a false impression of you that other students have. The university bibliophile and intellectual—one that no one expects to even converse with the opposite sex, lewdly—has scored with far too many guys on campus. And because of your assiduous exhibition, no one truly believes that you have slept with one or two of them.

The following day after an easily deemed victory you wake up with intentions to steal his parking spot again. You are running a little bit later than the clock, but with enough time to get dressed; and so, within ten minutes, you are out the door. The weather feels identical as the day before: clear skies and a warm sun, but the rush you face to reach Sicheng’s parking spot makes it difficult to enjoy the mild weather.

Amid your careening, you have reached the entrance of the student parking lot and see a familiar vehicle driving down the opposite end of the tract. Focusing your vision, you recognize the driver as Dong Sicheng, and the man in the passenger seat as Jung Jaehyun. You sigh and let out a sound of annoyance, your head turning left and right to see if there is another way to beat him to the locale. And it is either you turn left and enter a one way zone, or obey the rules and go all the way around. Obviously, with your ache to top Sicheng—in many ways, that is—the answer is in the air. Taking a deep breath, you grip onto the wheel and turn it, veering your vehicle into the one-way zone that is opposite from you. You are driving recklessly as you zip down the road, and just as the other car is about to make its way towards its designated spot, you swerve right into the vacancy.

The other vehicle comes to an abrupt halt, for its brake is rapidly pressed down onto as you cut off their bearing. “Shit,” spits out the driver, Sicheng. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

Jaehyun’s body is jerked from the sudden freeze of momentum, and he gets dragged back to the passenger seat, groaning, “Whoa, what happened?”

Sicheng tossed his head onto the headrest and closed his eyes, frustrated at your stunt. He calms himself with a few deep breaths, his grip loosening on the wheel as Jaehyun studies his actions.

“You good, dude?” Jaehyun asks, hitting his friend’s arm with the back of his hand like he is an empty shell.

“Yeah,” Sicheng concludes, his voice descending. “Just a little frustrated.”

Jaehyun bats his eyes and looks at the vehicle that has taken Sicheng’s paid parking spot; it takes a while for Jaehyun to comprehend the situation, then he finally speaks. “Again? Isn’t this the third day in a row?”

Sicheng nods and opens his eyes, his teeth biting the outline of his lip. There is a concerning mien that is priming on his face: an empty-looking stare, but fire hazes this two orbs. Though, when Sicheng opens his eyes and shifts his gaze to his friend, he notices someone else in his field of view—he notices you, hiking your backpack over your shoulder as you start to walk across the lot.

“Because of that fucking—”

“(y/n),” Jaehyun interrupts, his voice susurrous and questionable.

The sound of your name leaving someone else’s lips sounds incredibly foreign to Sicheng, and it catches his attention. Jaehyun appears uneasy as he gawks at you, shaky eyes and his hands balling into fists. Sicheng takes in every detail and he is about to question the well-being of his friend; until, Jaehyun smiles reassuringly to him.

“Sorry, I recognize her from a year ago,” he informs.

Sicheng raises an eyebrow, his hands coasting off the wheel. “What? Did you guys have a thing—an actual relationship?”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “No,” he says with a laugh. “It’s a short story, but I can tell you later.”

“Whoa, it’s something I don’t know? I guess there really is a first for everything.”

Jaehyun laughs lounges in the passenger seat, his stare finally breaking from you and your friend. There is a bitter taste that reposes on Jaehyun’s tongue, a familiar heat efflorescing in his chest; it is the taste you left him with, the anger that has been created the night you two had sex. Jaehyun has seen you around campus a couple of times and he ignores the innocent look you have whenever you enter another social surrounding. At the time, he was aware that voicing his complaints about you would put everyone in a state of disbelief, and Jaehyun would be deemed as a first-class liar—despite the truth pouring from his lips like endless waterfalls. Oh, and Jaehyun would never let anyone else know that he allowed a girl to top him for a night, then leave him as if he was nothing but detritus. There was no call back later, and a conversation the following day was absent. You and Jaehyun turned into instant strangers afterwards, and there has never been a reason to go back on that title.

You wave your hand in the air to catch Sicheng’s attention, to which he diffidently forces a smile your way, his anger failing to be shielded. Grinning at the starboy, you finally see the familiar boy in the passenger seat clearly. Jaehyun’s head turns out the window; he is refusing to look at you, and you titter quietly. Sowon pushes you ahead, bringing you out of the parking lot as she tries to hide her own sounds of entertainment.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Sowon surmises.

“I’ve been doing the same thing for two days—this is my plan,” you inform her.

Sowon pouts. “I mean when you entered the one way zone—what if someone was trying to exit? Or of a staff member saw you?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you assure. “This whole thing is foolproof.”

Meanwhile, Sicheng and Jaehyun are driving out of the parking lot, finding no point in complaining about the unexpected occurrence. Sicheng is making his way down the familiar street, hoping that the line of cars parked snugly at the curb would end soon. Jaehyun appears to be back to his wholesome self once the vehicle exits the parking lot; he releases a sigh of relief and Sicheng questions him yet again.

“Yeah, don’t worry. Just show me where you parked on days like these,” Jaehyun jests.

“At the end of the damn street,” Sicheng informs, vindictive rancorous lacing his tone. “Jae, you sure you never dated (y/n)? You two act like you had a horrible relationship.”

Jaehyun swallowed his breath, systematizing his thoughts in order to deliver the plain truth—in a way that will not shock his friend. “We didn’t have a horrible relationship—or any relationship!” Jaehyun protests, his voice rising as if it would support his defensiveness like a pillar. There is a period of soundlessness that creeps into the vehicle as Sicheng finally finds parking, praising the fact he is not at the busy end of the curb. Sicheng is about to cajole in joy like a young child, the feeling as if the parking is an oasis within a parched desert standing on equal par, but Jaehyun mutters incomprehensible words that rouses his interest.

Jaehyun’s voice lowers, and the entire aura around him appears enervated as if the thought of you feeds on his lively energy. “We had a horrible night together,” Jaehyun mumbles; this time, his words swimming through Sicheng’s ears.

Sicheng presses his foot down on the break before asking, “What did you say?”

“We just had a bad night together.”

“A bad night?” Sicheng repeats, his eyes wide. “As in, you guys had a bad fuck?”

Jaehyun lowers his head, feeling an overwhelming sense of chagrin to hear the truth come out his mouth.

Sicheng does not react for a good ten seconds. His mind is not able to piece together the scattered puzzle fragments and evaluate the entire situation. Jung Jaehyun, stellar soccer player and complete expert under the sheets, had a horrible sex experience with you? The thought of that is as unbelievable as the truth behind the rumours that circulate him. Then, it hits him.

The demarcation that splits shock and jealousy becomes prominent, and Sicheng is lodged right in the middle of the side of jealousy. There has to be some truth behind Jaehyun’s words; after all, why would he choose to fib about something like this? Hell, maybe the entire thing is valid—but that is the root of the tree of covetous desires.

“She’s very, um, ascendant,” Jaehyun mutters. “I mean, it was a good bang in some ways and I liked it, but she left me hanging right afterwards. I actually felt an attraction towards her, and I thought that with, you know, someone like her—innocent on the outside and sweet personality and whatnot—would not have sex with someone unless she really liked them too.

“But God, she is the opposite. She’s literally the guy version of Yuta: accepting invites to fuck whenever she grows bored, but by the end of the night she’ll grow bored of the guy. I didn’t think that’d happen to me—especially with someone like her! Those rumours that go around about her are true; well, some of them. It’s true that a lot of guys want to test the waters and see if what they heard is true, and it’s true that she chooses to spend a night with one of them, but that’s all I can say.

“But no one really believes what goes on behind the scenes. It’s all some large exaggeration of some sort.”

Sicheng goggles at his friend, concentrating on his information. It is more than palpable that Jaehyun has never spoken about that episode in his life before, and considering it is the first time, the words pour from his mouth endlessly. And for some reason, Sicheng is fazed. Hearing his friend talk about you, the word that surrounds you have all been confirmed.

“Oh,” Sicheng whispers. “Whatever, I see where you’re coming from, Jae. You know, this isn’t anything to really be ashamed about.”

“It is when people will laugh at my story like it’s a joke.”

Sicheng turns his head back, judging the distance from the curb and his vehicle. “I’m not laughing.”

“‘Cause you’re a bro, dude.”

“I’m more surprised that it took you a year to break out that news to me.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow, wondering, “Seriously?”

“Yeah. It doesn’t bother me,” Sicheng says quickly. He fights the urge to say something else; he has no opinion towards the information he has recently heard about you, no negative comments, for Sicheng and you are on the same boat.

He smiles, leaning in the seat. “Gosh, you are such a bro!”

“But I’m really surprised at this,” he adds.

“It’s okay,” Jaehyun assures. “I still am too.”

Jaehyun plants a punch on his friend’s arm and Sicheng laughs, finishing his imperfect parking, and the two of them make their way to the university. Their backpacks are slumping, gait free; they speak with one another as if there are no problems present in the world. But it all comes to an end when they walk by the parking lot and see a notable staff member sauntering to the main office.

Sicheng pauses, his lips pursed into a pout of curiosity. “Jaehyun,” Sicheng begins, “I’ll catch up with you later. I left something in my car.”

Jaehyun’s eyebrows come together, puzzled, but he does not question anything. “Alright, I’ll be looking for Yuta then. Later, dude.”

“Later.”

Sicheng turns his back to his friend who is then walking away, and he peers over his shoulder to see if he is still in sight. The second Jaehyun becomes occupied by his phone and enters the main hall, Sicheng pivots and begins to chase after the faculty member.

“Excuse me!” he calls out for the staff. Sicheng is jogging, a luminous, innocent grin sheening on his face.

The staff member halts and rotates his body to the boy, inspecting his unkempt appearance. “Yes?” he says, ignoring the aspect of disheveledness.

“I sort of have a problem, and I wasn’t sure on the answer, but someone has been parking in the spot I paid the fee for—it’s been occurring for three days now, and I’ve always been parking down the street because I don’t know who it is to tell them to stop.” Sicheng scratches the back of his neck and presses his lips into a thin line after he lets out a mingy deception.

“Someone’s been taking your spot?” the faculty member repeats, thinking aloud. “I can report it to the main office. What’s the spot number?”

The corners of Sicheng’s lip tug upwards in a scheming manner as he says, “2810. What’s going to happen to the car?” Sicheng feigns fear, stammering as he says, “Y-you won’t tow it out or anything, right?”

The staff member shakes his head, clinching his worries. “Don’t worry. At the university we give the student a warning the first time, the penalize them the second. And boot their car the third. For the third they’d have to come to the office, where we penalize them again.”

Sicheng’s mouth gapes. “Ah, I see. Thank goodness. Would you like me to come with you to the office to report it? This is the third time it happened, you can check the cameras if you’d like as well.”

“If you’d like,” the staff member says with a single breath, unwilling to deal with miniature drama in the early morning. “Or you can write out your name, license number, ID number, and spot number on a piece of paper. I can submit it to the office.”

“Oh, great”—Sicheng slides out a slip of paper and scribbles on the desired information, using his hand as a stable surface—“here, t-thank you, Sir.”

The staff member grins and takes the paper from the student’s hand, bidding him goodbye as he starts to make his way to the main office.

Sicheng stands in silence, feeling completely giddy from the instant. Springing in his glee, he heads straight to the lecture hall for his class rather than searching for his friends.

✾  ✾   ✾  ✾

After a long day of classes you feel drained of your vitality, and all you crave for is to catch some snooze-time in your own apartment. Lectures feel like they grow longer by the day, and it is impossible to fight the breakers of fatigue that come over your body. You meet up with Sowon first before you two part, and she talks to you about upcoming plans to procure.

She is accompanying you to your vehicle, straying from the main topic at hand occasionally; and all of a sudden, her final sentence remains unfinished. Right when you reach your vehicle Sowon has an empty stare at the front wheel, crossed on how to break the news to you.

“Is everything okay?” you ask her, your eyes following the alley of her stare. “Can you finish what you were saying so we can go—”

But your sentence endures as unfinished likewise. Your eyebrows furrow together, heartbeat kicking up its pace, and you take a shallow breath. So much anger has been briskly unsheathed, like a determined knight ready to face a cataclysmic battle, and you are ready to act upon it—because over the front tire of your car is a scintillating saffron car boot.

“You’re kidding,” you scoffed. “God damn it Sicheng.”

“We should go to the office,” comments Sowon, attempting to be tenable.

Your head turned in every which way in search for the aggravating boy; but to no revelation, he is absent within the area—probably at the opposite parking lot with his lawless friends. Exasperated breaths are leaving your lips and you shake your head, turning away from Sowon.

“(y/n), I don’t think we should act impulsively and—”

But you are already off. Sowon is left talking to nothing but the gust of air you left her with when you stormed away like an irate tornado. Your hands are balled to fists as you have an angry gait towards the other side of the parking tract, and the flames that surround your being have never been so visible. Students gawk at your enraged self, some scared to even be within the same area as you. It takes a ton of slow breaths for you to calm yourself down, at least enough to be reasonable with Sicheng, but the second him and his noxious group of friends come into sight your incensed fire is kindled abundantly.

“Sicheng!” you pant, your bag sliding off your shoulder as you marched to him and his friends. Despite their puzzled stares being aimed in your direction you are only able to look directly at the pernicious starboy, absolutely vexed to the core.

Sicheng smiles at you, holding his arms out as if he is ready to take you into a loving embrace. “(y/n)!” he exclaims. “Funny how you’re coming to me for once.”

His friends exchange mutual, confounded looks; each is unsure to the reason behind your storm. The words that soar from your lips are equivalent to a strike of lightning, but it is inefficacious towards Sicheng.

“You freaking asshole!” you exaggerate, allowing your bag to drop to the ground. His friends take a perceptible step back, marveling at your sudden exploit.

Sicheng’s jaw drops, feigning apprehensiveness. “What happened this time?” he questions you.

You rake a hand through your hair and point to the opposite side of the tract, acting vivaciously. “You fucking called someone to boot my car! Y-you told the office,” you declare. “Do you know how much work it will take to get that removed? I’ll be stuck at campus for another hour!”

“You’ll be here for two hours if you continue to yell at me,” he bites back, tilting his head with a dishonest smirk. “You should get going.”

“Seriously?” you pant, catching your breath.

Sicheng shrugs, an innocent expression sketching on his face as he ushers you to leave. Out of all if his friends, Yuta is the most dumbfounded. After all, Yuta has been egging on Sicheng to slip into your pants, butter you up with sweet words, but the opposite result is occurring this very moment.

“I’m fucking tired today, Sicheng,” you add.

Sicheng snickers, “Well I’ve been tired of your bullshit too! I had to do something.”

“So reporting me to the office was—”

Your sentence is left on the edge once your mind catches up to wrap itself around the fuming moment. It calms your apoplectic self, and prompts a few amused chuckles to leave your lips. Sicheng stares at you in confusion, pondering the sudden change of demeanor. He raises his eyebrow, a signal for you to continue.

You craft a guileful smirk whilst saying, “What kind of ‘bad boy’ reports someone to the office? I was expecting you to slash my tires, or maybe even bust my windows out.”

“If I did that then I’d be the one in trouble,” Sicheng informs you rapidly, quick to thought. “You’re smarter than this, (y/n).”

“I thought you’d be smarter than this too,” you spit out, glancing at his friends. In their eyes they either have the sentiment of horror or entertainment hazing their two orbs, and you push your chest out in confidence. “Whatever,” you say. “I’m wasting my time talking to you.”

“I’m glad you realize that,” Sicheng cackles.

You bend down and reach for your backpack, hoisting it over your shoulder as you start to trudge to the office. Seriously, this is the last thing you want to deal with after a taxing day of lectures.

“Anyway…” Jaehyun comes in, breaking the ice. “Yuta, your party’s next week?”

Your attention is raptured and you start to slow your pace, listening in to the last of their words while you are able to.

Yuta gives his friend a thumbs up, grinning. “Yep, on Tuesday night. So, Sicheng, what was that all about?”

Sicheng shrugs, keeping himself quiet. “I’m not sure myself, but, hey, I’m looking forward to your party.”

“Same,” Taeyong chimes in, “Yuta hasn’t thrown one at his place in ages—and they’re always the best.”

Those are the last words you hear from the loud men before you exit the area, and not long after your insistent stride, an idea blossoms in your mind—one that is a larger step in the game than the others you have committed.

It takes a while after negotiating with the office to retrieve the code and remove the car boot. You have to pay a penalty nonetheless, but it is not as much compared to other students who go against the rule; after all, the notable angel of the university who only studies would never prompt such hasty premature to begin with. The false reputation has aided you once again, and within an hour you are out of the university, driving impetuously to your apartment.

Once you are within the familiar comfort of your quarter you situate yourself on the sofa, slipping out your phone to send Sowon a text.

You [4:33 p.m.] Did you hear about yuta’s party next tuesday?

Staring at your phone in anticipation for her response, for a split second you wonder if your latest scheme is the brightest idea. The result is unknown, the line of result that is dashed into a nebulous haze. All you know is that the aggravation you have felt from today is fueling you, and Sicheng will soon face another degree of irascibility after your idea.

Sowon replies after a few seconds, straying away from your question.

Sowon [4:33 p.m.] since when were u interested in parties

Sowon [4:34 p.m.] especially ones by yuta and his friends ;)

You [4:34 p.m.] Get real. I’m just asking

You stare at the device for a second; your thumbs roaming the keypad after you decide to break out the question.

You [4:35 p.m.] Do you know what the address is?

And of course to that, Sowon responds within a heartbeat.

Sowon [4:35 p.m.] whoa who are u

Sowon [4:35 p.m.] i dont btw but i can ask around

Sowon [4:36 p.m.] wanna go?

You [4:36 p.m.] Fuck no

You [4:36 p.m.] But yes please ask around

Sowon [4:37 p.m.] here i was thinking u were ready to live a little :(

You [4:37 p.m.] Not around those guys.

Sowon [4:38 p.m.] haha, alright alright. ill text u later when i get the deets

The topic shifts abruptly after she sends that message, and you and Sowon result in texting about onerous classes and the abundance of assignments that have come each other’s way. With each message you send you become tired out by the second, the notification of a received message nothing but white noise as you fall into a deeply desired slumber.

When you rise the following morning, it is a placid Saturday aurora, gentle sun rays leaking into your apartment from the windows. You realize you knocked out cold on your couch, allowing the fatigue to overcome your body and take you into a cavernous sleep. Your phone is resting on the floor and you reach for it, vision still blurry from the stupefying rest. Struggling to focus your vision, you see the first message is from Sowon—and it has been sent not long after you decided to shut down your mind for a few hours.

Sowon [5:22 p.m.] i got the addy

Sowon [5:22 p.m.] what are u planning?

Instantly, you mind awakens and a sheepish grin that is impotent to fight paints on your face. The second you received the address of the appointed location, your next move is ready to take action. You slowly reply to her, humming an aubade as your thumbs press on the keypad.

You [5:25 a.m.] Let’s call off their party

The weekend passes by gradually for Sicheng, a largo build up like the calm before a storm, for he spends his entire weekend studying for exams. He keeps his phone tucked away elsewhere, notifying his friends that he will be busy for an unknown reason as a poor excuse. Sicheng, though, finds it comparatively burdensome to bide focus—because every twenty minutes or so he thinks about you and how mirthful your reaction was to his significant stunt. It feels like the accomplishment of the year, as if the trophies and gold medals he has earned from past dance performances no longer surpass the success that is angering you remarkably.

The thing is, he finds it quite strange.

Why is he lingering on the fact he earned a reaction from you—and why does he ache to prompt more? There seems to be an underlying phenomenon that rests beneath the root of the feat, one that he might be horribly blind to. As obscure as it might be, it is not negligible. Sicheng merely lacks the elements to piece together the scattered puzzle fragments to view the gargantuan picture. But, sooner or later, he will retrieve them.

When it is Monday morning Sicheng drives to the university with little-to-no expectations. There is no vehicle of yours—or any—that is filling up with parking space, and the slightest trace of you and your friend are absent. Walking to class alone and lingering with his friends for a small while, he never crosses your path once. It seems as if your role in his life as a pest has disintegrated, eroded off the face of the earth to give him a few sentiments of peace; but, Sicheng feels the opposite. There is a sense of discomfort from not even looking at you from afar, despite the new quietude and lack of annoyance. That factor pricks at his mind even more, rendering him unable to focus on future lectures and coursework.

The boys within his group are cracking jokes like normal and play games to see who can get the most girls’ numbers—nothing too out of the ordinary for the false starboy. Of course, it is perceptible that there is a stick of worry prodding at Sicheng’s brain, and Jaehyun is the first to ask about it.

But all Sicheng responds with is a smile of assurance, brushing away his friend’s worries.

“It’s okay,” Jaehyun tells him. “Yuta’s party is tomorrow night and you can drink away your problems.”

Sicheng laughs at his friend’s response, concealing his worry for the upcoming night. For a moment he wonders if you would show your face at the gathering; but knowing you, that thought alone is a joke.

✾  ✾   ✾  ✾

Tuesday night comes quicker than Sicheng prefers.

Lectures that usually feel extensive are over within a blink of an eye, and lingering around his friends makes time soar by quicker. Word of the party at Yuta’s place has spread around like wildfire, creating it the most anticipated university bash of the month—because there is bound to be another the following month. Students they have not interacted with before gain an interest and swear to show up, empty handed and some with bottles of potent to make it a memorable night. The fame that douses the party gives Yuta joy, and the drags his friends over to his place early evening before the first group of guests show their faces.

“Shit might break, people might get too drunk,” Yuta lists out, “but we will still have a fun night.”

The boys laugh, opening bottles of beer and clacking them together to cheers and take a few sips. Taeyong plugs his phone into the aux and starts up the tunes in his playlist, indicating the start of Sicheng’s dreaded night.

Sicheng is luxuriating in the last few minutes of peace before guests start to roll in. It feels as if parties are forced for him to attend to; he would much rather slump in the comfort of his apartment any day over a wild get-together. Jaehyun rests next to him, clacking his beer bottle to the younger boy’s, and flashes him a grin. “Have fun tonight,” encourages Jaehyun. “Quit thinking about (y/n).”

Sicheng blinks his eyes a few times, comprehending the last part of his words. “I wasn’t,” Sicheng informs him churlishly, biting on his tongue to hold back his protests.

“Really?” Jaehyun cocks up an eyebrow. “Whatever you say. You should have told her to come over tonight.”

“Why would I do that?” Sicheng questions with a scoff. “She’s the last face I’d like to see here.”

A playful smirk dances on Jaehyun’s lips as he remains silent towards his friend’s excuse.

“Whatever,” Sicheng huffs.

The first guests to the household arrive soon afterwards, entering the house that is practically a booming mansion. Greetings are exchanged and friendly introductions are made; it does not take a while for others to arrive, each contributing to the long night with their own belongings of alcohol and other substances. Sicheng remains in his seat as if he is glued to the chair, and rarely he rises himself to grab another handful of chips to snack on. He searches for his friends within the sea of conversing bodies, them soon to be drunk, as a protective caution to stop them from going past their limit. After all, being surrounded by his friends—especially without them being a hint of sober—is an absolute aggravation.

Sicheng closes his eyes and allows the music to swim through his ears, paying enough attention to the bass and lyrics to pass time. However, a voice louder than the music he is attentive to breaks his false peace. “Is that all you’re going to eat tonight?” asks a silvery voice.

Sicheng’s eyes remain closed as he assumes the question is not being directed towards him. Though, the same inquiry comes once more, “Is that all you’re going to eat tonight?”

That time it came out more raucous, as if there is a thread of indignation that is choking each word. Sicheng opens his eyes and stares at the individual in front of him, to which he believes is the one who asks him about his excuse of dinner.

He looks down at the chips in his hand that rest over a napkin and nods at the lady. “Pretty much. I don’t usually have an appetite during our parties.”

“I see.” The girl brushes her shoulder-lengthed hair behind her ear and smiles at the boy. Sicheng stares at her for a couple of seconds, wondering if he has ever seen her around campus before or if she is a local who is not from the university that heard about the party. She is dressed in a white cropped top and blue shorts—nothing too revealing or extravagant. “I can say the same,” she adds, squeezing herself onto the couch.

From the lack of space that was originally on the sofa, her body and Sicheng’s are practically being pressed together from teeming.

“Mind if I have some of your ‘dinner’ then?” she asks him, revealing her pearly whites.

Sicheng gazes at her, continuing to study her appearance. Getting a better up-close view of her, he is able to say that she is pretty, the type of pretty that is strangely rare. The type of beauty where stars are placed in one’s eyes, or flowers bloom whenever one would brilliantly grin. Sicheng feels himself become flustered at the sight of her, and his heart starts to race from the tiresome feeling of embarrassment. He had no plans to leave the sofa the entire night, but with a fresh face squeezing her way onto the sofa and being little to no proximity from him, he suddenly has an urge to bolt from the party.

“Go for it, I can always get more.” Instead of holding the napkin-full of chips to the girl, Sicheng places it on her lap and starts to lift himself from the sofa. Though, his plan to escape fails horribly when she latches her hand around his wrist and tugs him back.

“W-wait!” she spits out. Sicheng looks down at her past his fringe, an empty stare scrutinizing her desperate self. “I-I don’t really know anyone else here at this party, and my friend left me. I don’t usually go to parties like these and you seemed approachable. I was wondering if you’d stay with me for a bit? At least until my other friends arrive.”

The girl’s eyes veer away from Sicheng; she bats them innocently as he takes a few seconds to think. “Fine,” he sighs. “But I’m not going to squish on that couch with everyone else.”

The girl shoots up from her seat and tugs him her way. “We can always stand at the corner or something, maybe in the hall.”

“Sounds good to me,” Sicheng responds, his voice carrying over the blaring music.

The girl leaves the napkin-full of chips on the table and starts to follow Sicheng to the side of the room, like a lost puppy desperate to find its way home. As much as Sicheng aches to go home, he cannot leave his friends without guidance, and he decides to bide time by conversing with a stranger—at least for a short while.

Sicheng and the woman lean against the wall in silence, hardly any words being exchanged between the two of them. Periodically, Sicheng takes a sip of the beer he grabbed on the way over, relishing in the unpleasant taste.

“May I have some?” she asks him, holding her hand out.

Sicheng motions his hand to the counter across the room, telling her, “There’s plenty for everyone over there.”

She laughs at him and brings her hands to her side, perusing the scene. “I’d rather not get pushed around by a bunch of drunken partiers.”

For the first time throughout her presence invading his own, his lips quirk into a smirk, addressing the accuracy in her statement. “I can see where you’re coming from. Though,” he adds, “from my experience and the countless times I’m stuck at these parties, you can’t really avoid the crowd. They sort of just come to you.”

She gawks at the taller boy, unable to pinpoint the root of his words. “Is that so?”

Sicheng nods his head and motions the beer bottle to her. “Yes.”

She gushes, her face flushing a bright shade of roses as she realizes who he is referring to. Like a helpless orbit, she found her way to Sicheng; she is a part of the crowd that he is unable to avoid. She squirms against the wall, thankful for the dark lighting to mute out her red hues.

Sicheng glances at her from the corner of his eye and takes another sip. “I was just kidding,” he lets out.

She grins, her gaze still casted downwards to the floor. “You have a strange sense of humor then.”

“People are surprised I even have one,” he laughs.

She chuckles, her hand covering her mouth, coy. “I support that statement.”

Sicheng freezes at her recent affirmation, reading in between the lines of her words. To be fair, Sicheng has been in a situation like this far too many times to figure out where it will lead, and with the woman’s recent proclamation, everything is confirmed. She knows who he is; he deciphered what her intentions are.

He lets out a frown and brushes the thought to the back of his mind, his head leaning back against the wall. This would be the cue for him to leave, but with the rest of the night still waiting to make its way through, he needs someone to converse with.

And so for the next few hours the girl and he talks to fill up the empty spaces. He drinks more and she finally downs a few bottles of beer, but he does not consume an abundance for him to lose his mind—not like Yuta or the rest of his friends. It is sufficient for him to notice the minor details: she becomes flirtatious with him and far more physical contact is initiated, she starts to laugh at everything he says as if her humor is strange, and he realizes that her friends—the ones that she has been waiting for—never arrive.

As she speaks doltishly, Sicheng’s eyes scan the crowd in a desperate search for his friends—an occasional check-up to see if they are not the ones stirring asinine trouble. He feels a rough hand land on his shoulder, the manner similar in one ready to force someone to face the other for the sole purpose of bashing their face in, and Sicheng jolts from fright.

“Agh, Christ,” Sicheng groans. “Seriously, Yuta?”

Yuta’s grin widens, almost in a cheshire fashion. He takes a heavy breath, the plethora of alcohol lacing the air that leaves his mouth creating a tribulation for the younger boy. Yuta shrugs, a question resting on the tip of his tongue.

“Sicheng, can you - hic - fetch me my phone? It’s charging in my, uh, room,” Yuta requests, the words pouring from his mouth fast enough to be a single slur. He locks eyes with the girl that is standing next to Sicheng, winking at her coquettishly.

“What, I’m—”

“Thanks, bro,” Yuta cuts him off, flashing a sign of approval his way. Yuta drunkenly dives back into the crowd, conversing mindlessly with his guests as Taeyong throws himself on the sofa.

Sicheng groans and trudges to Yuta’s bedroom, leaving the girl alone like her existence is little to nothing, and waves his way past the vivacious crowd. He pushes the door open and switches on the lights, revealing the mess that is his chamber. Clothes are scattered on the floor and stacks of paper find home on the desk—and his phone. Sicheng walks over to it, his back facing the door, and unplugs it from the charger. Just when he is about to head back to the foreboding party, he hears the door softly shut behind him.

The sound startles Sicheng, and, sooner than he is able to realize, a pair of hands rest on his shoulder. It captures his attention and he turns his head to the identity: the same girl from earlier. A sneaky chuckle emits from her lips and her hands coast down to Sicheng’s torso, wrapping her arms around his toned chest.

“What happened to waiting for your friends?” Sicheng asks her, nonchalant and austere.

She remains wrapped around him, smiling. “They’re not coming. And my other friend is too drunk—partying with Yuta too.”

“You should be out there with her. Aren’t you worried?” he questions her.

“What’s there to be worried about?” she asks him, her hands sliding off to allow Sicheng to turn and face her. “I sort of want to spend time with you.”

‘Oh, God. Not again,’ Sicheng thinks. He grips his friend’s cellular device in his hand, finding relief in the force he is exerting, and tries to sort out an excuse to exit. Currently, he is in a confined room with the stranger—a fairly good-looking one as well—and she does not seem to have a desire to let him go. Sicheng gulps, hesitant and badgering his brain for being reluctant during situations like these. He would always be dumbfounded, far too flustered to react coherently or even run out the door.

Sicheng curses at himself for not running away from the expected situation sooner. He has been made aware of the girl’s true intentions, catching the train before it was even able to make a full stop, but he still decided to push himself—for his own benefit of passing time. Now, he is stuck in a room with her, apprehensive to move.

“Was all that talking earlier for nothing?” he asks her in a jestful tone, his question coming out as a joke to her ears.

She hums, confirming his statement. “No… I really did enjoy speaking with you. I just wish”—she places a hand on his waist, sliding it down to his hip to wrap her fingers around the belt loop of his jeans—“we sped things up a little. To get to this moment, you know.”

By then, her face is inching closer to his, her breath dancing over his petal-like lips. Her warm huffs meet his mouth, and it is still mingling with the unpleasant scent of alcohol. Craving for a kiss, she smiles up at him with her innocent eyes. Sicheng sternly frowns at her, his gaze not breaking with hers. He appears like a rigid man, unable to be moved from the slightest touch—the lightest contact—but in reality, that is the complete opposite on the inside. His heart is beating erratically against its rib cage, almost like it is its own beast that aches to be set free; his hand is in a compact fist, the other still wrapped around his friend’s device; a cold sweat starts to drip from his temples.

Of course, with a prepossessing woman standing temerarious before him, proximity only a few inches, it has an effect over him. It comes as a helpless wave, one that is unable to be ran away from, and he falls victim to her spell. There is a tent that starts to form in his pants from sharing the heated moment with her, and she has merely placed a hand on him. He becomes shameful and finally breaks eye contact, his lashes fluttering their lush blankets.

She releases an audible chuckle, tugging on the belt loop. “Do you want me?” she asks him.

Sicheng gulps, spilling the truth, “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t.”

“Good,” she whispers, her candy-coated lips now ghosting over his, “because I want you. I’ve been—the whole entire night.”

Sicheng is unable to voice an equally sensual response, for she hushes him with a kiss. One would expect that with her guiltless appearance she would kiss softly with care, as if each one has love pouring with every slight movement; but, that is not the case for her. The girl kisses him with the drive being lust, a shameless flame that notifies him that she wants nothing more but to get into his pants—to be the one girl who succeeds—and he can taste that on her tongue as his palm snakes its way to her lower back.

As a result, he retracts from the indecency.

“Sicheng,” she mumbles, “why’d you stop?”

Her hand starts to trail lower and there is something within her question that makes his curiosity raise. But he is far too perturbed to go against her at the moment. Sicheng never introduced himself to the girl; consequently, she is like every other partier he meets at a rowdy gathering.

Sicheng takes a step back and opens his mouth to speak, but the sudden swing of the bedroom door shakes the two of them up, shivers running high on their bodies. Staring at the cause of the distraction, Yuta is there with surprised eyes, panting as if he ran a marathon to reach his own bedroom door.

“What’s up, Yuta?” Sicheng asks, holding up Yuta’s phone. “I got your phone right here.”

Yuta takes a deep breath before talking in a single huff, “Party’s off, bro.”

Sicheng’s eyes dart around at the information, walking towards his friend. “What’re you talking about? It’s only been a few hours.”

“W-wait, Sicheng.” The girl grabs onto Sicheng’s wrist, frantic to prevent him from leaving.

“Get your hands off me,” he demanded, shooting her a cold glare. “Sorry to say this, but I’m not interested in girls like you.”

Her face becomes pale, alarmed at the sudden change in his demeanor. A few moments ago he was unfazed by her evocative actions; she fell under the umbrella of assumption that her hands were free to roam his body however he liked. Though, she has been proven wrong.

“Hell,” Sicheng adds, “you never even told me your name.” Sicheng drags his feet to his drunken friend, placing Yuta’s arm around his shoulder as he says, “What’s going on?”

The younger boy ached to tell him more, some words of thanks since Yuta unintentionally saved his ass from another long night; but, with Yuta’s desultory mind caused by potent grog, Sicheng keeps his mouth shut.

“Someone…” Yuta trails off. “Someone called the cops on our party. And some of us are in some major shit right now, bro.”

“What?” Sicheng raises an eyebrow, his forehead crinkling. “Are you serious? Dude, I swear this wasn’t even as bad as the others we threw.”

Yuta rubbed a palm on his face, unwilling to listen. “I know, I know. But - hic - what else can we do?”

“I don’t know.” Sicheng shrugs. “But we can try to—”

“Yuta!” exclaims another friend from the front door. The two boys turn their attention to the noise and notice Taeyong waving his hand in the air as if he is trying to hail a cab. “They wanna talk to you.”

Yuta narrows his eyes, attempting to focus his vision. “Who?”

Sicheng, though, with full capability on seeing who is barely still in the household and who is not, sees familiar uniforms at the front door. “The fucking cops.”

The boys face a longer night ahead—not in the manner that they preferred. They attempt to question Taeyong and Yuta—of all people—to find out whether or not illegal matters are occurring. Though, Sicheng commits to most of the negotiating by being the only sober individual present. It takes a long while of negotiating and speaking, assuring them that everyone is safe—that every action they acted upon is legal. With Sicheng’s astute way with words, the boys are left with a warning, and the few who remained in the household (that did not sneak off from the back) leaves the busted party.

Jaehyun tosses himself on the sofa in relief, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. His entire world is spinning in his eyes, his mind a whirlwind.

Yuta crows, “Who the fuck would call out our party? My neighborhood’s chill as fu—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Taeyong appealed, making himself at home at the kitchen table that was once crowded with bags of chips. “This whole thing blows.”

“You guys act like we don’t hold parties every month,” Sicheng chimes in with a smirk.

“But this one was actually getting places,” argues Yuta, taking a breath every few or so words. “I was having the time of my - hic - life, Taeyong was winning beer pong, and Jaehyun—who knows what he was doing, I’m sure it was fun. And you? You were about to get some pu—”

“Okay, Yuta,” interrupts Sicheng. “No need to give me a re-cap. She’s gone, it’s all done with.”

Yuta chuckles maniacally, slapping his thigh as if he has heard the joke of the century. “But you were really going to score big!”

Sicheng releases an exasperated sigh, finding it useless to argue with Yuta unless he is sober. “Not her.”

“With - hic - with who?” Yuta leans in, nudging the younger boy with his elbow. “Tell me the truth, would you bang (y/n)?”

Sicheng’s eyes widen and he impulsively pushes his friend away, defending himself hastily. “You all need to knock out right now.”

The boys erupt in a static laughter, each finding comedy within Sicheng’s forestalling opposition.

“God,” Sicheng articulates, “I should have left earlier…”

When Sicheng wakes the following morning, the noticeable deprivation of sleep sets his morning to imperfection. His friends have risen earlier, and they are fooling around in the kitchen whilst trying to clean up the remnants of the busted party, shoving plastic cups in the bag and wiping down the counter. He presses a hand to his forehead, an oncoming headache ready to pound its way through his mind.

“Morning, Sicheng,” greets Jaehyun, tossing a pillow onto the boy’s head.

Sicheng grabs onto it and hurls it to the other side of the room, loathing their early morning antics. “Morning. How’d you guys sleep?”

“Good,” Jaehyun replies. “Well, I did at least. I went to go take a piss but I saw Taeyong puking his guts out into the toilet.”

Sicheng shudders from the thought, and Taeyong stumbles into the room to defend himself with, “I’m actually fine—thanks for asking.”

Yuta laughs, tossing a bag of trash in the corner of the kitchen for later disposal. “Of course you are. I feel like out of all our parties—this was the most wild.”

“Because we got busted?” asks Taeyong.

“Pretty much.” He shrugs.

Sicheng yawns, stretching his arms in the air. “I’m so slumped,” he declares. “And we still have class today.”

Jaehyun chuckles, his joy fraudulent. “Blame that on Yuta who decided to throw a party on a Tuesday night.”

Yuta argues, pointing to his friend. “You know how much crazier this place would be if it was a weekend—we’d have shit in the pool!”

“I’m going to head back to the uni in a bit,” informs Sicheng. “Are we going to carpool?”

“Hell yeah we are,” states Taeyong, who starts to dash for the door. Sicheng stares at him, already regretting the fact he even asked the question. If he kept his mouth shut and left while they were busy cleaning, then his morning would be peaceful, and maybe he would catch hours of sleep in his car.

Jaehyun and Yuta soon follow afterwards, slipping into the vehicle like children squeezing their way onto an amusement park ride. For the most part of the taxing drive, Sicheng’s friends each are voicing their complaints about their hangover, repentant about even showing up to the university. They each formulate brainless plans, stating that they will lounge in the library to catch some sleep or down all the water given at the student cafeteria. They speak as if they are a broken radio, going on and on with nothing but quibbles of condemnation.

Sicheng turns into the parking lot after a couple more minutes, completely irked at the lack of peace he has received throughout the morning. Though, the intruding thoughts of his friends are replaced when he sees the empty spot at his parking space. It is absent of your vehicle, not a fraction of your presence lingering; thus, Sicheng hums in thought. He has not seen you for a while, and the ache to tease you being unsatisfied sets him off.

Sicheng parks his car neatly between the other two vehicles, and the boys hop out, their voices raising as if the compact confinement of Sicheng’s vehicle prohibited them from speaking at their normal level.

“I’m gonna get to class,” informs Sicheng, locking his car while he starts to walk the other way. “We can meet up later.”

Jaehyun’s eyebrows come together, worried about his friend. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Sicheng confirms with a miniature smile. “I think I have to catch up on some lessons—I’ll talk to my professor.”

Sicheng waves off the rest of the comments that lies on Jaehyun’s tongue, leaving them unsaid. Yuta chuckles and loops his arm around Jaehyun’s neck, whispering, “He’s just upset ‘cause he was about to score before the party was called off.”

Jaehyun startles at Yuta’s words, “Seriously?”

Yuta sheepishly grins at Jaehyun, pulling him closer to fill him in with false details and assumptions. Sicheng groans, yawning as he begins to wander the university. He tries to distract his tired eyes by allowing them to peruse the campus, taking in the minor details like students passing by and watching the leaves dance in the gentle breeze. Finally achieving a state of peace, he takes a few deep breaths to enjoy the momentary stoicism.

Though, it is easily disrupted the moment a recognizable voice calls out his name.

“Hey, starboy!” you exclaim, catching his attention. Your grip tightens around the strap of your bag and you start to saunter his way, your lips quirked up into a smirk.

Sicheng’s small smile withers into a frown, galled at the sight of you. The dishonest expression that is painted on your face raises his curiosity, but all he can do is respond with a lifeless, “(y/n).”

Tilting your head, you question him, “Why so glum?”

“My day was well until I ran into you,” Sicheng says with an airy laugh. His gaze stops roaming the campus and locks with your own, a spark of electricity emitting from the ephemeral engagement. “Aw,” Sicheng grins, bloviating a joke, “are you worried about me? I knew you’d come around.”

You roll your eyes at his comment, releasing a scoff. “Dream on, starboy. What’s there to come around? You don’t even know what you’re capable of packing,” you state. You lower your head, giving attention to his package below the belt.

Sicheng lifts his chin and waits for your eyes to meet his. “You’re always welcome to help me out.”

“Maybe when you have experience.” You laugh. There is a brief silence that lapses, allowing the whistles of the wind to fill up the high-tensioned scene. You then blurt out, “How was the party last night?”

Sicheng is taken aback by your inquiry, taking a step back. “It was great,” he fibs. “How’d you know there was a party last night?”

You stare out in the open, shuffling involuntarily as you are placed under the spotlight. “Y-you guys talk obnoxiously loud. I was actually interested in going.”

“Oh?” Sicheng raises an eyebrow, genuinely interested in your statement. “Why?”

“I wanted to see what you guys pack at those festivities. They’re not really for me, but I was willing to check it out for a moment.” Shrugging, your smile becomes unwarranted. You nod as you speak, trying to amplify your deception. “I sort of wanted to see you too—I wonder how you are when you’re drunk.”

“Please,” Sicheng says with a breath, “I’m not that much of a drinker.”

“You’re not that much of a banger either,” you add.

Sicheng remains silent at your comment; as true as it is, it strikes a chord within him. You gloat in hitting a weak spot of the boy, finally adding another statement, “And neither was that party.”

His eyes widen, finally comprehending your words. He finally pieced two and two together, only to end up with the prankish result caused by you. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

“What?” You take a step closer to him as if his voice is a whisper, leaning in to listen. “Is something wrong?”

“You’re the one who fucking called the cops to bust our party out? I mean, you did me a favor, but all the other guys would have gotten into some deep shit because of you!”

“I did you a favor?” you repeat abhorrently. “Damn, that wasn’t my intention. Why? What happened?” you question him. “Was a girl about to enter your pants?”

And his silence is the easy answer to your question.

“Of course,” you let out with a breath, not surprised from the obvious. Taking another step closer to him, you puff out your chest as if it would draw out more of your leonine presence; he takes a step back, intimidated, only to have you ease in. “I’m not even surprised, Sicheng.”

The proximity between you and the falsely stated starboy is now at a minimum, merely a few inches away from each other as the conversation progresses. Your fingertips dance at his belt before they wrap around the loop. Giving it a light tug, you bat your eyes innocently to the man.

Sicheng gulps, counteracting your movements with actions of his own. His hand races up your side, an index finger twirling a lock of hair before he moves it behind your ear. “When you act like this, it makes the rumours that surround you sort of believable,” he mutters.

“Does it? It depends on what you heard,” you mumble.

Sicheng smiles, his hand now resting on your shoulder. “Why can’t you show me?”

“When you act like this,” you begin, “it makes the shit that goes around about you believable.”

Sicheng backs away from you, the threat that is your existence getting to his head. The fire that hazes your eyes scorches him, discouraging every fiber of his being to put up another fight. You chuckle in triumph, but the moment ceases when another chimes in.

“Sicheng!” calls a familiar, friendly voice.

You study the figure that starts to approach you and Sicheng, eyes narrowing as you attempt to recall the familiar face. “Jaehyun,” you and Sicheng both say in unison. Sicheng’s gaze darts to you and Jaehyun gulps a mouthful of air at the unpleasant sight.

“It was nice talking to you for once,” Sicheng lets out, concluding the moment.

You stare at Jaehyun for a short while, taking in his differences from the time you last saw him. “I wish I can say the same”—you turn around swiftly, starting to drag your feet away—“See you at class later.”

Jaehyun’s gaze is locking on your walking figure until you are out of sight and turning the first corner. He lets out a sigh of relief, almost like your presence had prevented him from breathing steadily, and looks at his friend. “When did you guys become friends?” Jaehyun asks. “Are we gonna be seeing her around often?”

Sicheng raises an eyebrow in skepticism to Jaehyun. “We’re not,” he corrects, defensiveness dousing his tone. “And there’s no way she’s going to be around us.”

“So she isn’t eating lunch with us?”

Sicheng looks at his friend in disbelief. “Isn’t that a good thing for you?”

“It is,” he agrees. Silence ensues for a few moments before Jaehyun clears his throat, hesitant to ask the next question. “So…” Jaehyun purses his lips, dragging out the word. “Fuck buddies?”

Sicheng presses a palm to his forehead, annoyed. “Not even close.”

Though, the thought of occasionally fucking you spontaneously does not sound entirely bad to him. Not anymore, that is. But first, Sicheng recalls Taeyong’s words, and the invitation on his plan to get you back is suddenly tempting.

✾  ✾   ✾  ✾

Sicheng spends most of the time in class staring at the back of your figure, scrutinizing it as if it would help him formulate a plan to strike you back. He has never been one to cross the line; he always attempts to veer out of the road that would intentionally cause unhappiness for the other party, but you are a different story. Unable to focus on the lecture, his mind is piecing together the sparse ends of the thread to create a demise that would bring upon your misery.

Christ, he really is not sure why he is placing a lot of effort into spiting you. Is it because of the stunt you pulled with the party, rejecting Taeyong, or messing around with Sicheng, himself? The fact that “all of the above” is a proper option makes his insides boil, and Sicheng places his head on the desk like his mind short-circuited.

“She’s impossible,” Sicheng mumbles to himself, shutting his eyes.

Unintentionally, Sicheng has drifted into a deep sleep and finally caught the shut-eye his body has been craving for. The non-stop messages from the group chat and annoying prods of his friend always keeps him up late at night; it seems as if sleeping during important lectures is the only chance he has to make up for the lack of preservation.

His slumber lasts for a good hour but he feels as if he has drifted away for centuries. The student chatter is background noise to his lethargic brain, and he is not completely dragged back down to earth until another external factor intrudes his space.

You approach Sicheng with your belongings on you, an arm tight around your notebook as the other reaches for him across the desk. His head is still resting snugly on folded arms, taking deep breaths as he soars through his clouds of stupor. His raven-like hair has copiously dragged down over his features, giving the flawless appearance of an onyx waterfall. You clench your jaw at the sight of him, staring his features down fleetingly before you shake your head to reality.

“Wake up, starboy, you missed an entire lecture—again.” You drum the pad of your index finger on his head, tapping him until he awakens.

Annoyed with your irritating prods to his head, he grabs onto your wrist swiftly and moves it away as he raises himself in his seat. “You know,” he begins, his voice raspy, “I was having a really nice dream.”

You raise an eyebrow, dubious of his upcoming story. “Was I in it?”

“Well, no—but I wish—”

“Then I don’t care,” you cut him off, shaking your wrist out of his gentle hold. Both of your arms wrap around your notebook, hugging the bind of paper close to your chest as your eyes roam the classroom. Students pass by the two of you, glancing at the awkward silence that is wrapping around both your beings. It seems like an early start to juicy gossip, for no one would ever expect that the notorious bad boy would talk to the university bibliophile; two opposite sides of the spectrum unfathomably coming together.

As you try your best to not lock eyes with Sicheng, his gaze is glued onto your physiognomy, unintentionally adoring it. There is a distant look in your two orbs, a falsely innocent glow that has the capability to bewitch others.

“You look good,” he comments, thinking aloud, “but I wonder what you’d look like if you’re on top of me.”

You roll your eyes, twisting your lips into a smile. “All of a sudden I have regrets for even waking you up.”

“Is it ‘cause you can’t resist me?” Sicheng insists, leaning in lovingly.

You tilt your head to look at him, your mouth pressed together tightly as you release an exasperated sigh. “Where is all this flirtatious talk coming from? It’s annoying.”

Sicheng shrugs, his lips pursing into a pout. “If it’s annoying then why are you still here?”

“You’re right, why am I still around you? I might catch your sickness that is your stupidity.” You rotate your body to the exit, already beginning to stride towards the door. “Later, starboy. Don’t break too many hearts by tomorrow.”

“Is that the best you got?” Sicheng calls out, shooting up from his seat. “Did you just want an excuse to talk to me?”

Your mouth opens to bite back with another vehement statement, but you swallow your words with no desire to kindle his flame. After all, he does have a point. What is the reason you went up to him to begin with? It seems as if the root of teasing Sicheng has changed, shifting into a guilty pleasure to be under the light that is his attention. And it took you a good week or two to realize this.

After class you find Sowon waiting for you in the front of the institute, her patience running thin. You greet her with a bright grin, waving at her.

“Ready to go?” she asks, her weight rolling from the balls of her feet to her heels—a sign of her excitement.

“We’re just getting lunch, why are you so eager?”

Sowon hums, clutching on the strap of her bag as she tries to think of a response. “Because I’m excited to try out that new cafe. You know how much I love coffee.”

“You know, I almost forgot that we were eating lunch together.”

Sowon pouts at you, falsely hurt by your comment. “I know you don’t mean that—you don’t forget about plans.”

Laughing, you allow Sowon to accompany you to her vehicle. As if Sicheng and his group of rebarbative individuals are not the slightest bit significant in your life, the two of you joke around as if your paths have never crossed to begin with.

The drive to the retail restaurant roundup feels shorter than what it really is: time has passed by quicker due to the nonstop converse that is exchanged between you and Sowon, the music you both jam out to—the fun that occurs. Once she drives into the plaza she finds parking and lounges in the seat of her car for a few moments as if driving is a galling chore.

You and Sowon spend a good three hours in the restaurant plaza walking in search of a place to eat, and relaxing within the confinements of the chosen joint comfortably. Conversation has been kept at a minimum, most of the time being poured into enjoying the delectableness. The unpleasant thoughts of Sicheng never come into your mind until Sowon swallows her last bite and clears her throat to ask, “So how did it go?”

You look at her, puzzled. “What are you talking about?”

Sowon smiles, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “About the party—you shutting it down. Did Sicheng find out it was you?”

“I think it was pretty obvious I did that. I ran into him today and he didn’t seem that happy,” you say risibly, gaining joy from recalling his crossed expression. It was a face you would be able to feed joy from for aeons, and you feel giddy at the thought of it. “Not that I care though.”

“Of course you don’t,” Sowon agrees. Her eyes roam the perimeter as if she is searching for a new topic on the walls, but past the window pane she sees a recognizable group of boys—one of them being Nakamoto Yuta, who was Sowon’s guilty crush. Sowon hums, blinking a couple of times to confirm that it is not a dream, and grins. “Speak of the devil.”

“What?” You rotate your body and peer over your shoulder, narrowing your eyes to follow Sowon’s line of sight, but once you see the element you wince in disgust. As if running into two of them once in the day is not enough. Sicheng and Jaehyun are cracking jokes side-by-side, appearing as thick as thieves. “Of all places we had to run into them out of uni, it has to be here? I just wanted to enjoy my lunch.”

“It’s almost as if the universe doesn’t want you and Sicheng to move away from each other,” Sowon jests.

“God, universe, why?” You laugh, rising from your seat. “Let’s just leave now in case we actually run into them later.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sowon agrees, shooting herself up. “But first, I’m going to use the restroom. Sit tight for a minute or two, then we can head out.”

You raise an eyebrow at her, keeping the question to yourself as you sit back down. “Don’t take too long,” you complain. “This place is like poison to me after seeing those boys.”

“Don’t worry!” she assures, kicking up her pace to the restroom. “I’ll be back in five.”

Sowon dashes to the restroom, a mischievous smile sketching on her face as she heads the opposite direction the second your head dropped to look at your phone.

You check the time and roam some of your social media, scrolling through old news and uninteresting headlines. Releasing a sigh, you watch as the servers start to clear your table and wipe it down for the next set of customers—and Sowon is nowhere in sight after five minutes. With pursed lips you impatiently wait for your friend to return, but no trace of her comes back into the milieu. It seems as if she has left you to pay for the bill like it is an actual date set for ruin, but the bill has already been paid for and she promised you a return. You groan, turning your head around to see if she is chatting up some waiters, but the sight you see is more galling than charming.

Past the window pane you see Sowon talking to one of the rambunctious boys—conversing with Nakamoto Yuta, of all darn people. You press a palm to your face, releasing a sound of annoyance as you shake your head. “God,” you mutter, “what else was I supposed to expect.”

Watching Sowon playfully mess with Yuta’s hair makes you shudder in disgust, and you can practically hear the vexatious laughter emitting from his mouth as the boy throws his head back. The sight being unwanted, you shoot up from your seat and grab onto your bag, strolling out of the restaurant door to fetch your friend.

“So”—Yuta clears his throat—“I didn’t think I’d run into you here. I never see you anywhere else aside the uni.”

Sowon shrugs, brushing off his statement. “I was getting lunch with my friend. Maybe we got lucky then.” She winks, stars twinkling in her eyes.

Yuta smiles, an act of interest clear to his friends and Sowon. “Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, gaining an idea from the person who he is referring to—unpleasantly. “Which friend?”

“Oh, (y/n)—”

“Sowon!” you exclaim, stomping your feet with every step. The amount of force you exert due to your anger makes it seem as if the ground would crackle, and it rattles up Sowon’s spine out of fear.

Yuta winces at the sound of your voice, almost as if it has a similar impact to striking a blow to his face. The rest of his friends stand on guard, alerted by the storm that is currently heading their way. Sowon smiles nervously over her shoulder, waving to you innocently like you are a distant acquaintance.

You roll your eyes at her gesture, standing confidently beside her. “What happened to going to the restroom?” you question her, borderline ready to interrogate. “Is this the long way?”

“Uh,” she begins, her gaze fleeting from you and Yuta, “I meant the bathroom over at the other coffee shop!”

Confused, your eyebrows cross together and you release a sigh. “Let’s go,” you ask her, tugging on her sleeve. “You don’t want to be around these boys any longer”—you lean closer to her ear, whispering as your eyes scan the crowd and lock with Sicheng’s—“you might catch their stupidity.”

Sicheng cocks an eyebrow upwards, bored by your words. As susurrous as you attempted to make them, Sicheng heard them as if they were announced emphatically, contemplating to whether or not he should respond.

Sowon backs away, grinning like a child at you. “No way—that’s an impossibility.”

“Then let’s go,” you complain, pouting to her.

Yuta chimes in, tugging on the hem of his shirt as an act of nervousness. “What if she wants to hang out with us for a little while?” he questions you, peering towards Sowon.

The mere thought of that gives you an urge to gag; Sowon has the opposite reaction, for she is flushing deep with roses. “No way,” you spit out defensively, “we have plans and she’d never want to—”

“Actually, (y/n),” she mumbles, apprehensive before she finishes her sentence. You gawk at her with curious eyes as you await her finishing sentence. “I don’t know. I sort of want to get to know Yuta—after we ran into them at the parking lot.”

You attempt to recall that scene, and it barely rests in your mind from how irrelevant it is to you—due to the boys, that is. “Seriously?” you ask in astonishment. Sowon and you spark a conversation, almost forgetting about the boys that share the same milieu as you two. “I don’t even know how long ago that was, but Yuta? Seriously? He’s the university fuckboy.”

Sowon shakes her head. “I heard, but I just want to spend the afternoon with him. Seriously, if I’m not interested then I’ll call you right away.”

“And I’ll beat him up right afterwards if he tries anything,” you threaten, holding a fist up in the air.

Sowon laughs, her hand flying to shield her mouth. “I’ll be careful.”

“You better—wait, what about me? How am I going to get home? You’re the one who drove,” you question her, suddenly regretting your choice. “Unless you give me the keys to drive your—”

“Not happening,” she interrupts, walking to Yuta’s side. “Sorry, (y/n), but you’re more of a reckless driver than I am so there is no way you’re gonna be driving my car.”

You take a step back, dazed at her response. “How am I going to get back to my apartment?”

“Uh”—Sowon turns her head to Yuta—“do you mind if we only spend two hours together?”

Yuta smiles, admiring her effort. “Well, we can always have more time later on.”

“Oh gosh,” you continue, “nevermind, I’ll just take the bus. Those two hours would end up as five.”

“I’m willing to drive you home.” Sicheng winks.

With a split moment passing to comprehend his words, you grumble, “Piss off, starboy.”

You throw your arms in the air in defeat, walking past the small gap between Jaehyun and Taeyong, and start to search for the nearest bus stop. Rummaging in your bag, you attempt to search for your wallet to pull out some cash to pay the bus fare—which would probably be an hour and a half ride from the distance of the university to this town. A disappointed sigh leaves your lips as you turn the corner; you lean against the brick wall of the building and take a breath, annoyed with yourself.

The sound of distant footsteps near you around the corner and you tilt your head in expectations on who the person might be. A part of you hopes it would be Sowon saying ‘sorry’ and ready to drive you back; the other aches for it to be Sicheng—for an unexplained reason. However, the person that turns the corner is a mere passerby, one of the many bustlers that is probably on his way to work. You release a puff of air, kicking the dirt as you people watch the busy street. Paying more attention to your surroundings, you begin to notice the loud roads that are filled with vehicles and chatty citizens.

Becoming too lost in the scene, you do not realize the man that approaches you to the left. His shadow towers over you, and that is what catches your attention. Diverting your attention to the man, you recognize him within a heartbeat: starboy, Dong Sicheng.

“What do you want?” you ask him, twiddling your thumbs together.

“Nothing,” he answers rapidly. “I parked my car down this street and I need to head back to my place—to study, that is.”

“Not for me?” you joke, crossing your arms over your chest.

The corner of Sicheng’s lips quirk upwards, an impish expression priming on his face. Sicheng starts to stroll by, ruffling your hair. “You wish.”

Sicheng continues to mess up your locks, ogling at you and your figure in front of him. The sly smirk withers into a look of adoration as you nag him to quit, and Sicheng startles from the thought of being charmed by such a simple action. He takes a step back and turns his head the other way. “Ah, it’s getting a little chilly,” he changes the subject, shoving his fists into his pockets.

You fix your hair, smoothing it down with your palms as you look in between the lines of his words. “Then go to your car,” you huffed. “You said it was down the street, didn’t you?”

Sicheng hesitates, gawking and standing in silence for a few seconds. “Do you want a ride back?”

You tilt your head, puzzled by his unforeseen gesture. For a moment, you consider saying yes, accepting the ride back rather than waiting in the cold for your friend—or even riding an extensive, bumpy bus ride to your apartment. But the smaller part of you takes control, causing you to blurt out a, “No way.”

Sicheng presses his lips together, blinking twice before responding. “You sure?” he asks. “It seems like it’ll get colder—and you might fall asleep on the bus. What if you end up at the east part of town? That’s a good two hours away.” Sicheng takes another step away, slowly starting his stride to his vehicle whilst waiting for your response. “I mean, not that I care or anything.”

Smiling, you look at him through your lashes. You scrutinize the boy, eyeing him from top to bottom. It is enough for you to notice the shades of red that creep onto his cheeks, and the rosy hues that tinge his ears. The boy is blushing, almost embarrassed, and vulnerable to your goads. “Sure you don’t.”

Sicheng grumbles, halting the beginning of his stride. “I’m just trying to be nice.”

“Try harder,” you comment, pushing yourself off the wall to brush past him. “Where’s your car, starboy? I can deal with an annoying car ride with you over a boring bus ride that’ll last for an hour.”

“Really?” Sicheng’s voice cracks. “I-I mean, what’s gotten into you?”

You shrug, the change in your demeanor protruding. “Answer the question.”

“R-right at the corner,” he stammers, scratching the back of his neck nervously. He follows with a reluctant point before walking to the vehicle, and you shadow him with a high guard.

Sicheng unlocks his vehicle and allows you to plop inside. He situates himself comfortably as he starts up the car, the radio instantly turning on and blasting the horrendous tunes on the radio. He reaches over quickly and shuts it off, uttering out an apology as he begins to back out.

You smile at him. “No need to apologize.”

As Sicheng backs out, he glances at you occasionally, unable to fight the urge to gawk at your features that were getting kissed by the incoming sunlight. “Whatever,” he responds.

Sicheng veers onto the road and begins to drive smoothly. He has a tight grip on the wheel as he continued to head to your apartment and you voice directions every now and then. He stops at the red light and slumps in his seat, tapping the wheel as if he is anxious to speak to you. The mood of the car is quite stiff; two polars are stuck in the same, condensed space right now, and he is not sure what to think.

Until he has a question that prodded at his mind for him to ask. “So,” he sighs, “why’d you call off our party.”

You look at him, cocking up an eyebrow in interest. “That’s quite a conversation starter.”

Sicheng does not bother to lock gazes with you; rather, he waits for the light to turn green and he begins to drive again for ten minutes in your reticence and enters the freeway.

You and the boy sit in silence, anticipation for your response raising the tension, and you hum. “It’s because you booted my car—and I had to pay a fine.”

Sicheng gains an urge to stop the vehicle where it is to look at you, addressing your stupidity, but instead he presses harder on the pedal. “What are you expecting? For me to let you park in my spot all the time?”

“You could have told me—”

“I did.” He grumbles. “You just don’t seem to listen.”

Your mouth hangs open at his comment, and the quietude that is caused confirms the validity behind his statement. You lean to the car door, your sight aiming out the window.

“So I also heard you slept with Jae,” he adds ten minutes later, exiting the freeway and starting to drive to your street as you ordered.

“Geez,” you sigh. “You really don’t know how to start proper conversations, do you? Ah, Make a left here. It’ll be in sight in a few moments.”

“I’m just saying.” Sicheng shrugs, steering the car in the desired direction. “Would you believe me if I said he was interested in you—for more than a, you know, bang?”

“Hmm…” you trail off, thinking about it in a wider perspective. “Yeah.”

Sicheng tilts his head. “Is that so?”

Sicheng starts to slow down on the road after you inform him that he is nearing the complex. His eyes are scanning the area, absorbing the new scenery. “You live pretty close to the uni,” he comments.

“If a fifteen minute drive is ‘close,’ then I guess so,” you reply. “It’s this one on the left. Just enter the parking lot and it’ll be fine.”

Sicheng nods and turns his car into the lot, driving all the way down with intention to pull up at the side.

“My turn to ask a question.” You clear your throat as Sicheng braces for it. Who knows what would leave your mouth—what you would be up to. To him, you are cryptic—a labyrinthine of emotions and negative events at every dead end. “Would believe me if I said I was interested in you—for just a, you know, bang?”

Sicheng gulps, stopping his car in the middle of the lot. You take notice of how his ears tinge with peach hues, and how his eyelids flutter from embarrassment. “I-I,” he stammers, grip deadly on the wheel. Sicheng struggles to find his breath, his gaze looking everywhere but your own. A hundred different lewd scenarios cross his mind—all sparked by your evocative question. “Fuck,” he curses under his breath, but mostly because there is a growing tent in his jeans.

You giggle, opening the door to take a leave. “Later, Sicheng. I’ll see you at class.”

The name catches his attention, causing Sicheng to finally look at you with a grin.

“What?” you ask.

Sicheng chuckles, tossing his head back momentarily. “I’m so used to you calling me ‘starboy,’ it’s kind of strange to hear my name come out your mouth.”

“Maybe you can get me to scream it one of these nights,” you suggest, winking at him before shutting the car door.

His expression runs niche and he is unable to move an inch from your parting words. Fuck, that really did not help his situation. Sicheng stares down at his crotch, the bulge sticking out prominently as it remains stuck in his pants. He gulps, one of his hands letting go of the wheel to sail down to tend to it, but he is interrupted by a loud honk from the vehicle behind him.

“God damn it, (y/n)...”

The note you left Sicheng off of even surprises you.

Sure, the point as of now is to tease him endlessly, but there appears to be an underlying sentiment behind each witty phrase you shoot towards him. You crave his attention and ache for a response whenever you badger him; likewise, he can say the same.

When it is the third day of the week you drive on over to your class, wondering what you would say to Sicheng throughout the entire commute, and sauntering to the lecture hall. You are gripping onto the strap of your bag tightly, your mind in its daze as your eyes remain fixated onto the floor. When you approach the lecture room you up your vision and see Sicheng lingering around some of the classmates in sight. Smirking, you walk towards him, stopping in front of the door to the room.

“Hey, Sicheng,” you greet with a sly quirk of your lips. Your arm wraps around him, a hand resting on his shoulder as you give it a light squeeze. You bat your lashes at him, feigning innocence as you await a reply.

Sicheng’s breath hitches in his throat as he diverts his attention your way. The simple gesture you are giving him feels like complete electricity, warming up his chest from such a diminutive contact. The exchange of similar glances spellbinds him, and he is barely even able to utter out, “H-hey.”

The conversation that has once been taking place comes to a halt, the colleagues he has been conversing with staring at both you and Sicheng in curiosity. “Why aren’t you in the room? Is the professor not here?”

“Ah, no. That’s not it,” informs Sicheng. “We’re just getting in some conversation before we go inside.”

“I see.” You nod you head. “Well, it’s better to be inside early, right? Or”—you sail your palm down his back, a feather-light touch ghosting over his clothed skin—“are you always going to be one for late attendance?”

Sicheng does not bother to respond to your question; instead, he watches you swiftly enter the lecture room with a foolish grin on his face. His face feels hot from an easy gesture, and it is more than clear that he is a blushing mess in front of his colleagues.

“(y/n)’s always caring about everyone,” says one of them. “I asked her for help with an assignment and she agreed within a heartbeat.”

“Really?” responds the other. “I should try talking to her some time. Invite her to the next party!”

Sicheng crinkles his nose at their talk—how oblivious they are to you and your devilish tactics—and says, a little out of jealousy, “Don’t bother. It’s better to not get involved with her anyway.”

Sicheng then follows your footsteps into the lecture room, it echoing in the quietude. Sicheng immediately finds you lounging at the second row, and he joins you, sitting two seats away. He takes out his belongings and prepares for the lecture, peering at you from the corner of his eye occasionally. He twirls his pen in hand as your chin is propped on your palm, and, finally, after ten minutes you two lock eyes—right when the lecture begins.

As much as you try to remain focused on the lecture, Sicheng’s presence is a complete blight to your focus. Your mind cannot help but run to the direction of him, thinking about him seamlessly about multiple scenarios that are, to no surprise, quite carnal. He is simply leaning in the seat, a childish pout on his lips as he tries to absorb the material, yet you are utterly distracted by him and his looks. His hair is a little more on the messy side this afternoon; is that the after-sex hairstyle that would take place? God, you are incredibly curious. All of a sudden you ache to tug on his hair, perhaps when he is going down on you irresolutely.

Sicheng grins at you, noticing how you are lost deep in a fantasy; he cannot help but wonder if you are thinking mutual thoughts as he. He is replaying the scene from earlier over and over in his mind, like it is the only movie the cinema of his brain can project, and it makes his mind jumble out into scattered puzzle pieces. And each piece is one impure thought after the other.

Sicheng bites the outline of his lip as he allows his imagination to run wild. He wonders what you would look like if he has the upper hand. If he is to be the one taking charge of all situations instead of you—if he is to be the ‘bad boy’ that everyone thinks he is. Once, just once, does he want to hear you whimper his name as you are beneath him.

Your eyes widen at Sicheng tugging on his bottom lip with his teeth; you never thought that was a sight you wanted to see until then, and you turn your head away to try and block out the distraction. Sicheng chuckles and lifts his head, trying to return back to the lecture. Of course, it is not as easy as he wishes because in his pants again is his own rising hardness.

✾  ✾   ✾  ✾

Once the lecture comes to an end you pack up your items by shoving them in the bag like it is an oblivion. You snap your fingers to enrapture Sicheng’s attention, and you gain it with posthaste.

“What do you want?” he asks you, his voice groggy as he has recently risen from a heavy slumber.

“You,” you respond playfully. “And for us to get out of this lecture hall ‘cause I feel like I’ve been suffocating in his room for far too long.”

Sicheng fixes his gaze on your figure that towers above him and he releases a sigh. He rubs the nape of his neck and gathers his belongings, accompanying you out the hall. “You actually waited for me,” Sicheng points out, grinning.

“Stop commenting on everything I do,” you demand, bitterness lacing your tone.

“I can’t help it,” he pleads, “it’s all so cute.”

You draw in a sharp breath through your teeth, disgusted by his stunt. “Gross.”

“So, answer me,” he requests, stopping your stride before you exit the entire building. “Just what are you trying to do?”

You narrow your eyes, furrowing an eyebrow. “Trying to do about what?”

“You know,” Sicheng edges. “You’ve been touchy lately.”

“Oh,” you acknowledge, “nothing. I’m just having a little fun.”

You lean against the wall by the door, arms crossed as you scrutinize Sicheng’s response, and he isn’t buying it at all. He is finding your reply unhumorous, as true as it is. You are only playing around with Sicheng because it causes you fun—and of the irresistible attraction that creeped its way onto the surface, but he has no reason to be aware of the latter.

“But why—”

“Hey, Sicheng!” calls a familiar voice.

You and Sicheng look to the direction of the voice, only to realize it is coming from Yuta—who has Sowon hanging around him like a puppy.

“I’m assuming that date went well?” Sicheng thinks aloud, waving to his friend.

“Unfortunately so,” you add, shaking your head at the disappointment that is Sowon and Yuta possibly becoming an item. “Be careful, Sowon.”

Your friend giggles, almost feeling your seeth. “It would’ve been better if his friends didn’t stick around us.”

“I had space in my car,” says Sicheng. “I could’ve lessened the load.”

“Oh hell no,” you comment, swatting Sicheng’s arm. “It was bad enough dealing with you.”

Yuta tilts his head in confusion, looking at Sowon as if she has an answer. “I thought you needed to go home, bro. Why was (y/n) with you?”

“Ah,” he pauses. “I-I did. I ran into her on the way to get to my car and she was on the way…”

“Don’t get any ideas, Yuta. The last thing I need is for your mouth to run on and on about how Sicheng and I would be an item,” you demand, already calling for the future. Knowing Yuta, his mouth only knows how to talk and spread rumours—and that is only one of the many reasons you hold an antipathy against him.

Sowon chimes in, breaking the ice. “So why are you two still in here? Our lectures ended at the same time.”

Sicheng peers at you, motioning you to speak. Sighing, you say, “We were just talking.”

“Talking?” Yuta laughs. “Or flirting?”

Yuta winks at his friend, notioning your way that has Sicheng bursting into a fit of chuckles. “Totally,” Sicheng agrees, obtaining and idea. Sicheng steps closer to you, the remaining proximity closing as he places an arm around you comfortably—an act that makes it seem as if it is the most natural gesture in the world. “I’ve been trying to get her to go on a date with me, but she loves playing hard to get.”

You turn your head to look at him, incertitude painted all over your face, and he leans over to whisper into your ear, “Don’t you?”

You bite onto the outline of your lip, his breath hitting your skin, sending goosebumps to race up your spine. Heat flows into your face and the blush is more than evident, almost like a wave of coral hues splashed on your skin. “Get real, starboy.” You push Sicheng off you, taking a step away as you calm yourself down. You feel your heart beating rapidly against your chest as if there is a raging animal that wanted to be set free, and you are unable to calm it down. “T-try again next time.”

“So we have a next time?” he asks you, smirking in victory. He appears to have found a weak spot of you—one that he can use to his advantage to win the game.

“Get a fucking room, you two,” implores Yuta. Yuta latches onto Sowon’s hand and gets ready to guide her out the door, but Sicheng says something that makes the older boy explode into childish laughter.

Sicheng shoves his hands into his pockets, swaggering back to you. “There’s a room right there—a classroom—if you’re into that.”

Your eyes widen at his idea, another vehement desire to follow his proposition present. You shake your head at the intruding thought, the longing for you to satisfy your amorous desires difficult to maintain. Speechless and unable to think properly, your flustered self watches the starboy exit the lecture hall in triumph and all you want to do is clout the back of his head.

“Gosh,” you spit out, “he needs to piss off…”

Yuta and Sowon exchange similar expressions, both making a silent call for the future. It causes them to chuckle and you face them, your face still tinted with pink—the mark of embarrassment. You are unable to stop thinking about Sicheng and his words—everything he has stunted today. Looking at the entire moment in a wider perspective, Sicheng seems to crave to take the game in his own hands; to kick you off the pedestal and take charge happens to be an event he is absolutely ravenous for.

But it is arduous for you to pinpoint the root of it. Shit, when did Sicheng start to put up such an act—and why is it working on you? You have ever been one to feel anything by flirty words or touchy gestures; you have always been the one to initiating a stimulating response, but the tables truly have turned. Because...

It is not until now for you to realize that this is no longer a game, but a chase for who breaks first.

To say that you enjoy Sicheng’s method of peppering compliments on you would be an understatement.

It feels like a guilty pleasure whenever you hear him make a positive comment about your appearance or wit—whether he wholeheartedly means it or not. Every encounter you have with him, he gives you a playful wink and, if you are to be lucky, words that keep you keen. And that routine continues for a good two weeks. For you, it seems as if you have made zero progress in pushing Sicheng to the edge and he is always one move ahead—always getting you on checkmate. There are times you have attempted to avoid him by purposely walking the longer way to the lecture halls and taking the back path to go to where you typically park, but as if there is a hopeless magnetism, you and Sicheng have always been made bound to cross paths—which leaves you utterly weak.

You notice as time passes that with each time you see Sicheng your heart kicks its pace up; not due to the thrill or anger of seeing him, ready to grind on his gears, but for a feeling that has always been foreign to you: a complete attraction to a man that you used to see as the epitome of pest. After such a realization you have tried to sort out your thoughts, but the more you think about Sicheng the more crazy it drives you. It isn’t rocket science—what you feel for the falsely stated bad boy—but it is something you are borderline ashamed of feeling.

And what if he finds out?

With the two weeks of avoiding Sicheng and attending classes, bolting for the exit once the shared lecture ends, he finally catches on. Well, to be fair he has always had an idea of your feelings toward him—and he knows you would never voice such as if it is to be a curse. Sicheng finds your reaction to be cute, charming whenever you told him to get away like he is a fool in love, and he aches to be around you even more.

However, two weeks passing is far too long of a wait for him and he decides to take the larger step, a more riskier move on the game board.

He sees you walking across the parking lot with your notebook held tightly in your arms and he grins, pausing his converse with his friends to say to you, “Looking good, (y/n), but what’s new?”

His voice catches you by surprise and the heat returns to your face. Ignoring him, you start to pace yourself to the hall, but he ditches his friends to run towards you, joining you by your side. He laughs, ruffling your hair as he points out, “Are you blushing?”

You bare your teeth, glaring at him as you spit out, “Piss off, Sicheng.”

“Why are you so brash to me?” He places his hands in the air in defeat. “I’m just complimenting you.”

“I don’t want your stupid compliments.”

“What do you want me to say?” he asks, genuinely curious. The compliments don’t work, and neither does his loving gestures; he wants to crack down to the bottom of this like it is a cryptic code that has been impracticable for aeons. “That I’d love to f—”

You place a hand over his mouth, hushing him as you push him back. “We’re in front of so many people, have some decency, Sicheng.”

“We can go somewhere private,” he says easily with a shrug. He grabs onto your wrist and lowers your hand, giving him some free space to talk openly. Your expression is still the same: a foolish blush with sparkling eyes, a shy demeanor—like Sicheng’s true self has an impact on you. “You seem like you’d like that.”

You remain silent and walk away from him in hopes that you have escaped his scripted plan of the day, but he chases after you, opening the door for you to the lecture hall. You stare at him and that prince-like smile that is blossoming on his face. With such gestures, it confuses you even further, and you release a sigh as you enter the hall.

Sicheng frowns at the lack of response, shadowing you from behind. “Why are you so annoyed with me?” he complains, both hands gripping tightly around the straps of his backpack. “And there are twenty minutes before the lecture. No one is even inside the hall.”

Rather than being able to formulate a coherent reply, you are more focused on the rapid beating of your heart—the swirled up thoughts in your brain—and it prompts Sicheng to tail you like a puppy, pestering you for attention. “(y/n)?” he calls out to you, catching up to your side. But you refuse to reply, ignoring his presence. “(y/n), is everything okay?”

You reach for the doorknob of the lecture room, but a clasp around the small of your wrist prevents you from doing so. Sicheng turns you around, enrapturing your attention has his gaze beats down on your face. “Did I do something wrong?” he questions, his voice frail like a child that has gotten in trouble. “Did I cross the line?”

Sicheng’s gaze casts downwards to the floor, his eyelids fluttering like pirouetting butterflies. The solemn countenance that is conveying on his face makes you feel guilty, a clear sign you have fallen victim to his previous manners. “No,” you respond, unable to look his way.

“Then why are you ignoring me?” he questions.

“You act like I haven’t been trying to ignore you for the past two weeks.”

“But why?”

“God,” you spit out, attempting to turn your body so you can swing open the door to the lecture room, “you’re so annoying.”

But Sicheng stops you from doing so. His grip is tight on your wrist, yet he acts with hesitance as if he is calculating his every move, afraid to hurt you. His eyes finally meet yours when he prevents you from escaping his grasp, and it is a moment that is far too electric to break the current. In fact, this is the closest you have ever been face-to-face with the starboy. There is no turning of heads, no gushing or childish blushing to prompt an abscond—but a pure moment as if one is reading far too into the other.

The silence that is filling the moment is amplifying the weight of the moment, and Sicheng releases a shaky breath. He is studying your expression: your pursed lips that are coated with a thin gloss, the apples of your cheeks that have a natural tint on them—because he caused it. One by one he notices your features, and he hears your unsteady breath get drawn in.

Your heart is beating furiously against your chest; his is aching to be set free from its own cage. The compulsion to enter the lecture room is no longer overpowering, and you are rooted in stance before the boy, your mind completely blank as well. The last bits are drawn back to your mind once you hear a breathy laugh come from his mouth.

You tilt your head, eyebrows coming together as if frustrated. “What are you laughing about?”

“Nothing,” he clears out, shaking his head. “You’re blushing,” he whispers with a smile quirking at his lips.

“No I’m not,” you respond instantly, defensive on where you stand. Your head turns the other way, shielding your face from the truth.

Sicheng chuckles, finally gaining the last piece of the puzzle to see the larger picture. It explains it all: the times you avoid him, spit defensive words, and the countless blushes and hopeless grins that blossom on your face. “Did this game you declared turn into something more?” he asks you. “Am I beating you at your own game? And here I was, worried that I crossed the line.”

You are rendered speechless, coherent sentences unable to thread together as he voices out validity.

“But I didn’t.” He finishes off, “You just have feelings for me.”

“I don’t,” you announce.

Sicheng closes the gap that is shared from your face and his, inching closer and closer until you are able to feel his warm breath hit your skin. “I think you do.”

You slowly face him again, witnessing the stunt he is trying to pull. What has gotten into him? It truly isn’t like him to be head-on flirtatious with a member of the opposite sex. Why isn’t he gushing or running away? Cowering in embarrassment? Perhaps what you thought you know about Sicheng is completely false—and it has always been the reason to why he has the upper hand. As cryptic as you are, Sicheng is the definition of arcane—a walking enigma that is solely made for you.

Sicheng lets go you your wrist and trails his hand up the outline of your body slowly, a desultory action that sets your insides ablaze. He moves your hair behind your ear, gaining a better view of your features, and smiles lovingly.

Gulping and in need of a riposte, you spit out the first thing that comes to your mind, “Are you saying that as defense?” You narrow your gaze on him, the fire in your two orbs evident. “Are you not the one who has feelings for me? You’re constantly complimenting me and following me around—I think it’s for more than just to—”

“But I do,” Sicheng informs, cutting your sentence short.

Every word you have wanted to say dissipates on the tip of your tongue, for his response has caught you by surprise. It is like an impact you never expected, like someone has came from your behind to strike. So your suspicions have always been on the right track. There has always been an underlying reason for Sicheng’s actions that you brushed to the side—but why? Has it been a method for you to fight how you feel towards the starboy?

The silence that is being shared between you two has turned deadly—an uncomfortable still as you allow the words to sink into your mind.

“What?” you question him, your voice a whisper. Sicheng has not moved from where he stands the entire time; his head has always been a few mere inches away from your own, and your breath brushes against the petals of his lips.

Sicheng swallows his breath out of nervousness, relieving his anxious sentiments. His mouth constantly opens and closes every now and then because he is crossed on what to say. Every sentence that comes to mind does not make it past his mouth, and he swallows his words as if they would be the wrong choice to make—like it would be the key to set you free from his presence.

The boy has waited for a moment like this for quite a long time—longer than the two weeks you have been annoying him. The first three encounters with you have been nothing but unpleasant, but as time has passed and the paths kept on crossing, intertwining, it would be impossible for him to not gain an idea of you under another light. The night of the party a girl approached him, and he rejected her for more than just avoiding an intercourse with her—because Sicheng thought of you. The girl was even closer to him physically, her arms wrapped around him; you are inches apart, and the pull has never been stronger.

Sicheng shakes his head and stares through you, whispering your name. God, what on earth is he thinking? The more time that passes the greater the urge grows to become closer to you. He craves for a kiss, a pull—anything that would diminish the game that has stood.

And so he asks.

“(y/n),” he mumbles. You blink twice at him, a signal that he has all of your attention. “C-can I kiss you?”

You look up at him through your lashes, unable to turn away. Sicheng twirls a lock of your hair in between his digits as he watches you with dilated pupils. Fair enough to say, he is as nervous as you are. Both hearts are racing as if there is a finish line, breaths are being held and let out shakily, and words are being chosen oh-so-carefully.

So you hope that your response is enough—even if it is a breathy, “Yes.”

Sicheng’s eyes blow wide for a second, surprised at how quickly you complied, and he watches you close your eyes delicately, waiting for the impact. He smiles softly to himself, admiring the longing that is painted on your face.

Slowly in the empty hall, he comes closer and closer, his warm breath a tease for every second his lips are not pressing against yours. Sicheng acts with reluctance—not because he fears that this is the wrong choice or if he is leading you onto the wrong direction but due to the lack of experience. Nonetheless, his head leans in and the last sight he sees is your lips being pursed gently.

His forearm moves to rest against the flat of the door as he closes the gap, and the contact is more electrifying than ever. There is a smile that plays at the corner of his mouth that you feel; you cannot help but do the same. Sicheng’s lips dance with yours to the melody of each other’s brisk heartbeats, the softness an unfamiliar sensation that provides you with the pleasure of longing. It feels as if you have waited aeons for a benevolent kiss, like your existence has been created for the lush act.

He sucks on your bottom lip, swiping the tip of his tongue against the surface, and gets a taste of you—and it is surprisingly sweet. It appears like you are a fruit off a tree with a sour appearance, drawing people away, but if one is to peel away layer by layer they would catch a look at the real you.

Sicheng’s other hand snakes its way to the small of your back, pulling your body closer to him to deepen the kiss. You cannot help but break the kiss to laugh, for his act is entertaining and unexpected. Locking eyes with him, you see more than just the mischievous glint, and it prompts another playful kiss.

He smells of coffee and musk, the two scents swirling together in a divergent harmony that sends your senses to the edge. There is something that impels you for more—a craving to taste him even further and to bring your bodies closer, and as the heated kiss progresses it is the only thing that intoxicates your mind.

There is one thing that is holding the two of your back, and it is the fact that you are both two shadows standing right in the middle of the lecture hall, in front of the door to the classroom. Anyone could walk in at any moment and be astonished to the core to see that the university bibliophile and notorious bad boy is locking lips. It would be the gossip of the week and the puzzle of the century. What witchcraft has taken place to bring two polar opposites together? Whatever it is, you are glad it has charmed you.

Sicheng presses harder against your lips, sucking on them passionately to solicit a quiet moan from you—and he obtains one. You break the kiss, cowering out of embarrassment, and he chuckles. He assures you of your worries by cupping your cheek and running his thumb across your skin. Kissing you once more, you decide it is your turn to make a move.

Your hands tug at the hem of his short before one tugs at the belt loop of his jeans to drag him in close. As he falls victim to your grasp, his crotch comes in contact with your front and you feel something preposterously… hard. You break the kiss to catch a glance at the tent that is building in his pants—the uncomfortable hardness that gives him pleasure once you palm him through his pants.

He takes a breath in between his teeth and hangs his head low, positioning it at the crevasse of your neck prior to him peppering kisses all over. Sucking on your skin, he leaves a mark—a promise that more would come and the moment would be finished later.

You grip onto his hardened member past his jeans, feeling him up, and he releases a moan right by your ear. “Fuck,” he utters, his voice weak. “God, (y/n), t-that feels good…”

“Does it?” you ask him rhetorically, gripping onto it with more force.

“Shit,” he says within an instant. “Y-yes! God, I—this is the first time that I—”

You shake your head and he raises his, allowing you to plant a kiss. “You talk too much,” you comment, pecking him again.

Sicheng chuckles, sweat accumulating on his forehead. “Whatever.”

You take a step away and change spots with the boy, pressing him against the door. Your mouth is ghosting over the cupid bow of his own, enticing him by the second. Sicheng is unsure on how to act next. Should he leave it up to you, or take charge once more?

Whatever he has been thinking, it is far too slow because you act first. Acting as if you are about to kiss him again, Sicheng closes his eyes to brace; however, your hand chases for the doorknob and your clasp around it, twisting it so that the door to the lecture hall opens.

Sicheng, who has been leaning on the flat of it, stumbles right into the lecture room from the loss of balance.

“We can save the rest for later,” you tell him.

Sicheng is on the floor, rubbing his forehead as he gawks at you. The blush returns to his face and you laugh in triumph, entering the room with a grin. “Good morning, professor,” you greet her—the professor’s eyes scrutinizing the two of you.

You move to take your seat, unwilling to help him up, and start to unpack your belongings to prepare for class. Sicheng watches you, his mind dazed and struggling to fathom what just happened. Only ten minutes have soared by and it was ten minutes of confession and sexual build-up. He groaned, picking himself up and stretching his arms into the air.

You stare at him, still entertained.

Sicheng used to be someone you could not stand to be around—a man that made you dread. Now, the one thing that has always been killing you is making you feel incredibly alive. You can only hope that the promise to satisfy your need for him would come sooner than you expect.

There is no point in faking your antipathy towards Sicheng anymore.

No walls have to be built to protect yourself from the truth and to prevent him from seeing it—especially what has happened a good four days ago. Sicheng and you were having an empirical, heated make out session in the middle of the lecture hall. Feelings were dutifully exchanged and one thing led to another; that was, before everything came to an abrupt halt.

A large fraction of you regretted opening the door to have him fall inside; it was your chance to tell him to dip class and spend the two hours in private, getting an even better taste of one another, but you didn’t.

So for the past four days you have been outrageously frustrated, the thought of Sicheng driving you insane. He’s like a drug—an element you are completely hooked on and you cannot seem to fight the urge to want him. Thing is, no matter how far the scene can escalate between you two, you have no idea what the boy is thinking.

Well, that is because Sicheng has no idea what he is thinking. He never had such a heavy crush on a girl before; let alone, had a makeout session until he crossed paths with you. The feelings you provided him with gave him a thrill, a rush of excitement and so much longing to the point he is addicted. Of course, with the way events have cascaded perfectly into one another, he could not help it.

With similar thoughts to yours, he never thought that he would be willing to go so far with you. He kissed you, ached for more, and was ready for you to guide him—no matter how shy he was. And the most shocking part to him is that you have no problem with him being a virgin. You used to take pleasure in annoying him—teasing him to the edge about the truth and what he makes himself to be—but that all strengthened the magnetism of his attraction to you.

So here he is, standing in the university parking lot with his friends, excessively sexually frustrated from the lack of contact he has had with you. To be honest, the last time he has had a full-blown conversation with you was four days ago, right in front of the lecture hall. Everything that came afterwards was quick ‘hello’s’ when passing by one another. And that got him thinking: did the kiss mean nothing to you to the point you’d act like it never happened?

Or maybe he was thinking out of proportion. After all, he never experienced such a turn of events.

However, there was a moment where he saw the mark he left on your neck—the sign that what happened four days ago would take off where it was left off from, and the only question became ‘when?’

Sicheng is staring at the sky as his friends chat the day away. They are talking about the usual: girls, planning the next party, and whenever they will go the billiards hall. There is nothing too out of the ordinary occurring and the day is stunningly placid. Sicheng’s head is in the cloud as they listen to Yuta bicker about his progression in his relationship with Sowon—the potential of how ‘serious’ the two of them might become, and the other two boys cannot take him seriously.

Hearing of such an instance reminds Sicheng on how he first started with you. If he made the choice to not attend class that day due to the wild night from before then none of this would be happening. It sounds even more preposterous that Sicheng is hopelessly crushing on the girl he used to wholly have forebodings about.

Sicheng closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, relishing in the reminisce. The boys’ laughter intrudes on his journey among his thoughts and his lids flutter open, whilst attempting to catch onto what he has missed.

As Sicheng’s vision slowly refocuses as he blinks a couple of times; from the corner of his eye he sees you. Habitually, you are walking with Sowon across the parking lot to return to your vehicle down the street. It is distinctive that you are trying to avoid running into the group, which is notable by being on the opposite side of the small lot. Sicheng smiles, and the manner is strangely perpetual. The little things of you appear to drive him crazy, whether you are annoyed by him to the point you would walk away with a blush, or if you are to prod him with belittling jests. And he feels helpless to them.

Yuta, who is talking endlessly, finally puts an end to his roam mid-sentence when he sees you and Sowon on the opposite side of the lot. “It’s Sowon!” he points out loudly, causing the boys to divert their attention your way. Though as booming as his voice naturally is, it did not reach the two of you who are vivaciously laughing the day away.

“Is Yuta seriously pursuing a real relationship?” asks Jaehyun, giving Taeyong a light punch. Taeyong chuckles and nods his head as Yuta glares at them, biting onto his sour tongue to restrict ill-mannered comments.

“And she’s friends with that total witch,” hisses Taeyong. “(y/n), wasn’t it? How do you feel about that, Sicheng?”

But there is no response.

Taeyong rotates his body to where Sicheng is standing, only to find out he is no longer there and is dashing for the two girls. Sicheng’s presence blended so well into the shadows for him to abscond, confusing the three boys on his chase towards you.

“What the hell is he doing?” Yuta questions, piqued.

Jaehyun’s face contorts in displeasure and inquisitiveness as he watches his friend run towards you. Setting all feelings aside, he lets out a sigh. “Sicheng’s facing the same thing you are, Yuta.”

Taeyong’s jaw drops to the floor in shock, the color in his face washing away as he is the last to catch onto the recent turn of events. “No fucking way. How did he get her? No offence to Sicheng or anything, but aren’t I hotter in more degrees?”

Yuta blasts out into a childish laughter, agreeing. “Very, Tae.”

✾  ✾   ✾  ✾

… “So then after I said I would take the bus back home, he offered me a ride!” Sowon rambles. “I never thought he’d be like that, but we ended up having a second date I guess—in his car.”

You skeptically raise an eyebrow at the information, studying it thoroughly. “Don’t tell me you two used the back of his car to ba—”

“No!” She shakes her head, waving her hands towards you dismissively. “W-we didn’t do anything! I mean, he kissed me and that was it—I promise!”

“What the”—you halt your stride to look at her, pondering if you are hearing things correctly—“you guys already kissed? You guys are moving faster than Sicheng and me. You know when we first kissed? Two weeks ago.”

Sowon laughs, grasping onto your hand to pull you towards her. “That’s because you two hated each other when you first met. You don’t just make out with someone you don’t like.”

“Good point.”

When you think about your friend’s comment you realize how childish the story of you and Sicheng sounds. Both of you acted upon one another by a petulant drive, only craving to see the other well in their own misery, and now all you both want is each other. You press a palm to your face for recalling the immature acts and sigh.

Sowon starts again, giving you another tug, “Anyway, I really want to go and eat some—”

“(y/n)!” your name is called in the distance.

You turn your head instantly, attributing the recognizable voice to the familiar face. Sicheng is dashing towards you as if he has forgotten a beloved belonging in your grasp, and you slip out of Sowon’s hold to wave to him.

Sicheng stands before you and your friend, catching a breath before he says to Sowon, “I need to borrow her for a second. Maybe the whole day.”

With a sweaty palm, Sicheng takes a hold of your hand and pulls you away from your friend, dragging you from the lot to behind the main building of the institute. You attempt to dig your heels into the ground to prevent him from doing so, uttering, “What do you think you’re doing?”

You study the boy, noticing the hint of red that stains his ears—a small blush that gives you an idea on why he is acting so promptly.

Sicheng is grumbling some words to himself, already flustered from the stunt he is pulling, and groans exasperatedly. He releases you from his grasp once he makes it to the back of the main building; his back is turned to you for a good while before he opens his mouth again.

“Two weeks,” he declares. “It has been two weeks since we kissed and you rarely made any contact with me since. Is something wrong?”

Sicheng rotates his body to face you, and the glint in his eyes is a mark of genuine curiosity.

“Is something going on with you?” you ask him, chuckling from amusement.

Sicheng’s eyebrows come together in a frustrated manner as he blurts out the truth. “Yes, I’ve been sexually frustrated the entire time! How can we kiss and then leave me out like that?”

“You do realize that’s what you do to all the girls that try to get into your pants, right?”

“But that doesn’t mean you should do it to me…” Sicheng whines. He grabs onto your hand tightly and releases a breath of air. “(y/n), come on. I’m getting impatient. I haven’t felt this way towards anyone else before and you’re really leaving me on the edge.”

His confession comes as a surprise to you. You are not sure on what to think. You gain from watching him struggle to keep his dick in his pants, but also from hearing him come to the edge due to sexual frustration. Giggling, you say, “Sucks to suck, Sicheng. But you gotta wait.”

“W-what?” he stammers. “How long?”

“I have an exam coming up—I have to study.”

You shake out of his grasp and start to walk back to Sowon; however, he tugs on the hem of your shirt, stopping you. “W-when is it? What class—where?”

“Next Monday at around three. The second portable—why?”

“Just wondering,” Sicheng tells you. His grip tightens as he thinks out another addition to his sentence. Whenever he is with you, the words do not come quickly to his mind. “Do you want to go out after your exam?”

“Out?” you repeat. “Or… out as in—”

“No,” he corrects you, interrupting. “Out as in an actual date. I can treat you for finishing.”

You narrow your eyes on him, trying to see if there is an underlying message in his proposition. “All of a sudden you’re being romantic, what’s going on?”

Sicheng chuckles, his head hanging. “You can’t blame me for trying.”

“I’m not.” You shake your head. “But that sounds like a good plan.”

Sicheng finally allows you to part from him. You walk back to Sowon with a childish grin painted on your face, for the mere thought of going on a proper date with the boy makes you giddy. Sicheng watches you make your way back to your friend. The smile that has been pressed on his face withers away instantly as he realizes what he just committed.

“Fuck,” he mumbles. “Did I say I was okay with waiting another week?!”

Despite his silly mistake on allowing another week to past, time soars by quicker than expected.

Sicheng occupies his time by digging his face into his books, absorbing necessary information for his classes to prepare himself early for exams and whatnot. It is not the best distraction, but it is enough to suffice as you have the time of your life preparing for an exam—and teasing him. It is another story when you are in the same class as him. He really cannot focus, no matter how far away he chooses to be seated from you, and it prods at his brain like an unwanted stick.

So, when Monday comes along he decides to look extra spiffy.

The morning of, he spends more time styling his hair and picking out a decent outfit to impress. He sprays on cologne and tests out award-winning smiles at his reflection in the mirror; he wants the day to go by perfectly. Sicheng attends his classes like normal at the university, and his mind runs wild the more minutes that pass by. It is a countdown to you, when he can see you again and possibly score the night.

Sicheng dashes out of his lecture once it concludes, running by his group of friends who call out to him, but he does not bat a single eye. The wind whistles in his ears as he runs across campus to reach the portables (considering he has been at the opposite side of the campus) and hopes he is running on time. The lecture ended at around 2:47 p.m., and that gives him thirteen minutes to make it to your class—well, if it already did not end early. Lectures never run on schedule to begin with.

Sicheng is starting to break out into a sweat in his outfit: a blue flannel with black ripped jeans, a plain white tee under as well. Not only that, but his hair is an absolute mess, like a cat has made a home on the top of his head. There are so many elements that he can be fretting about, but the second he sees you in the distance, his worries erode away.

He is standing on the top of the staircase, noticing you leave the portable of your class at the bottom of the steps, and he calls out for you, “(y/n)!”

The sound of your name being exclaimed captures your attention, causing you to turn your head left and right for the direction the sound is coming from. Other people are attracted to the stunt Sicheng pulls, and he keeps chanting your name, waving to your frantically like a young child greeting his friends at the start of the day.

“Shut up!” you retaliate, your face flushing with pink.

You start to walk up the steps to meet him, gossip already circulating among your colleagues. Whispers upon the topic of you and Sicheng being an item start up—and people would be foolish to not believe it at this point. With the givens that you and Sicheng have spent with one another, him tailing you and you pestering him with insults, the signs have been everywhere.

Sicheng lovingly watches you climb up the stairs, the tired look on your face making him laugh. It is not until you are three-fourths of the way up for him to notice your lasting beauty. You are wearing shorts and a loose white tee, an outfit that seems like you picked up dirty laundry from your room floor because effort was not in the dictionary this morning. Even so, you look incredible to him.

Your hair is messy, a look he expects to see after sex with you and—fuck, is he getting a hard on?

Sicheng’s expression turns niche as he looks down at his crotch, the hardness barely noticeable (thankfully). He gulps, hoping that it would go away soon. Is this what happens when sexual longing is extended for three darn weeks? Sicheng proceeds to smile at you as you meet him at the top of the staircase.

“How was the exam?” he asks you.

“Good,” you reply, your pace not stopping. Sicheng accompanies you, leading you to the path to his car. “I think I aced it.”

“I’m sure you did,” he agrees with nervous laughter, fighting the uncomfortable sensation in his pants. “We both study like mad—and you blew me off to study.”

“Yeah,” you scoff, “so I can focus.”

“Do I get a reward if you get an A?” he questions you with beady eyes. Even though he asked it as a question, it sounds like Sicheng is implying another—an obvious craving he has been wanting to become satisfied.

Smiling, you say, “Maybe.”

The walk to Sicheng’s car is filled with smalltalk and gossip on what is going on between Yuta and Sowon. A couple combination that no one even expected—but that is what makes it so risible. It is just how you and Sicheng start off, and possibly how the word will spread around. Sicheng is smoothing out his hair as he ambles to his vehicle, laughing the day away with you as he breaks out in a sweat from the hot weather. What brilliant choice did he make to wear jeans and a long sleeve?

The moment you both reach his vehicle at his parking spot, he strips the flannel off his being and tosses it in the back seat once the car is unlocked. Your eyes are glued onto his figure, the somewhat muscular man feeding your eagerness. Shit, has he always looked this good? In fact, have you ever seen Sicheng wear anything else aside longsleeves and sweaters? He looks divine.

“What are you staring at?” he asks you, tugging on the seat belt.

You mimic his motion. “Nothing, you just look good.”

He smiles, red chasing the apples of his cheeks again. “Thanks.”

Sicheng starts up his car and starts to back out of the lot, informing you of the plan for the rest of the day. “So there’s this restaurant downtown that just opened, it seems pretty good. There’s a bakery right next to it as well, so we can stop by there afterwards—I heard their macarons are amazing.”

“You planned out the entire day?” you think aloud.

“No, I didn’t plan out the details—but that’s just the gist.” He beams. Sicheng enters the street and begins to drive. He switches on the car radio to fill up the moments of silence that come along after the end of each conversation topic. You notice the way he nods his head to the music, tapping his fingers to the beat rapturously.

“I see,” you mumble. “So, how was your day? You actually look pretty good.”

Sicheng grins jocundly, shrugging his shoulders. “It was fine. Do I really? I just put on whatever,” he fibs.

You nod your head. “Yeah, you do.”

Your eyes roam his vehicle, enjoying the look of it. It is a black, e350 mercedes, and it smells just like him, and a hint of the scents he has hanging on the air conditioners. At every stoplight Sicheng has a tendency to look your way. The mere sight of you alone sets his insides ablaze, and he over thinks: what should he say? Is there even anything to say?

You snap him out of his thoughts when you ask him, “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing,” he retaliates quickly. “Y-you just look really good.”

“I’m in a white tee and shorts, Sicheng. This is a typical outfit that half the university can wear.”

“B-but you look good…?” His voice raises at the end of his obscurity; he ponders if he is choosing the correct words properly, or he is ready to cower in his own embarrassment.

“Would I look better beneath you?” you ask him, tilting your head the other way. You bite onto your lip to ease your anxious wrecks, your eyes clamped shut as you wait for his response.

It catches him by surprise and his foot eases off the gas pedal, prompting him to stutter, “W-where did that come from? I thought w-we were just having a nice innocent date…”

You breathe a sigh of relief, thankful he didn’t unleash his wit. You face him again and ruffle his hair. “We are,” you admit. “I just wanted to get this out there.”

Sicheng’s eyes bat continuously your eye, his vision fleeting from the road to you dangerously. “I-I see...”

An uncomfortable hardness forms in his jeans and it bothers him. He is barely able to focus on the road, for his attention is devoted to you. So, when the next red light comes after eight minutes of continuous driving down an avenue, he is more than thankful.

At the red light Sicheng’s fingertips tap onto the wheel. His lips are pursed as he whistles a playful tune along to the music of the radio, and you look at him admirably. His lashes appear lush, like curtains and whenever he blinks they sweep over his skin. His lips are decently plump, kissable if you have to admit, and it intrigues you in. You lean over the center console to gain a better look. With him at such a close distance again, you are able to notice more about him and his features. He has a complexion that is almost too perfect; well, his being as a whole. It seems as if what creates perfection has been doused onto this man, charming you and others. Of course girls fall for him, he is outrageously good looking—it is one of the reason you have as well.

But the larger majority is due to the playful cat and dog-like feud you had with one another. Unpleasantries grew into an irresistible magnetism; grievances blossomed into loving memories. To be honest, the first kiss you shared with him had you hooked like crazy. You made a mistake by opening the door for him to stumble in the class, but there was no going back. The date you have with him right now is like a redemption.

The longer you stare at Sicheng the more enchanted you feel; soon, it is enough for you to plant a kiss on his cheek.

The action catches him by surprise and he quickly rotates his head to look at you with eyes blown wide. Utterances of shock rest on the tip of his tongue, but as soon as he locks eyes with your own he is unable to speak. The words disappear and his mind becomes blank from you and your noticable beauty. His gaze falls from your eyes to your lips, the perfect cupid’s bow he wants to peck, and he swallows his breath.

Sicheng acts by his desires and places his lips against your own. He acts in a desultory pace, testing the waters to make sure kissing you is okay—if it is granted by you and that it is enjoyable, and it is. His lips are paradisiacally soft against yours as they dance with one another. The action alone impels you to place a hand at the back of his neck, and you pull him in to deepen the kiss. Sicheng sucks on your bottom lip and swipes a tongue over it, the slickness a peek of what is coming next.

He softly bites onto your bottom lip with his teeth, dragging it out before coming in for another rousing kiss. He takes a breath, the scent of your perfume sweet and alluring. A compulsion to take everything to the next level dawns upon him—the struggle for him to resist. His right arm reaches over the center, a palm being placed on your thigh for him to squeeze.

You cuff him with your tongue before invading his mouth, and he willingly accepts the invitation. His tongue capers with your own, swirling in harmony before he retracts to fervently suck on your lip.

With foreheads touching, breaths being taken, you both smile at one another and move in for another kiss—that is, until there is a series of honks being aimed towards him for halting at the light that has recently turned green.

“God,” he whispers as he fixes his posture, pressing on the gas pedal. “Of course the moment has to be ruined.”

His hand stills rests on your thigh as he drives with one hand; the palm runs up and down your delicate skin. You place your own over it, grasping onto his hand tenderly. Sicheng’s grasp is tight around the wheel, eyes glued on the road, but his other hand inches up your thigh. He is attempting a light tease, a gentle touch to give you a light push to the edge of your desire. You enjoy the moment of childish teases for the five minutes that it remains, but it comes to an end when he retracts to grip on the wheel, turning it to guide his way in a roundabout.

The loss of his touch angers you, and all you want to do is finish what has been started from day one. The fight for who can get what they want; in this case, you want Sicheng. You reach over and place a palm over his cock, coaxing it gently.

“W-what are you doing?!” he stutters, dangerously slowing the vehicle down in the roundabout.

“Forget the date,” you fume, no longer able to fight your overexcited urges. “Drive to your apartment.”

“W-what?” Sicheng pauses, his foot easing off the gas pedal again.

You proceed to palm him through his jeans, squeezing his hardened member through the thick fabric of his pants. Sicheng hisses in a sharp breath, struggling to maintain his composure as he is a victim of your impure touch.

“F-fuck,” Sicheng spits out, making a full circle, “yeah—okay.”

“I want you so bad right now…” you tell him, palming his crotch. The friction you create makes him hiss in a breath through his teeth.

He nods his head frantically, pressing down on the gas pedal once he exits the roundabout. “So do I—give this a good seven minutes.”

“What if I can’t wait that long?”

“You made me wait for three weeks,” he tells you, annoyed.

You lean over the center console, whispering in his ear, “And I’m sorry”—you kiss his neck, swiping your tongue over a part of his skin—“But I really want you now.”

He shakes his head and starts his hasty pursuit back to his apartment. Sicheng dangerously drives down the road, cutting a couple drivers off as his sexual longing takes over. You are gently petting his cock over his jeans the entire way there and once he parks it in the lot of the complex, he takes the keys out of the ignition and presses his lips against yours.

The kiss catches you by surprise; it is intense, passionate and filled with lust, and you break it. “I-Inside,” he says when you catch a breath.

You nod your head, stepping out of the vehicle. You follow him throughout the complex, eyeing the details of the outdoors as a temporary distraction. He fumbles for the keys when he stops in front of the door, and he shoves the house key into the lock, twisting it to push the door open. He makes way for you to step inside, grabbing his keys amidst to toss them in the room. He shadows your figure without much things to say, but he definitely eyes your figure from top to bottom, loving every bit of it.

Sicheng presses you against the door as he forcefully closes it, his mouth coming in contact with yours amid. This time, he kisses you with more fervor, quick and sloppily. Tongues are swiped against one another every so often, and the sucking on each other’s lips continue vigorously. His forearm is pressed against the flat of the door, the other hand snaking its way to your lower back. You have a tight grip on the collar of his flannel, pulling his head to you to deepen the kiss as the other slides down his torso and to the waistband of his jeans.

You mimic the motions you have done in his car: slowly palming him through his pants and squeezing his solid cock to satisfy the extensive longing you have been through. Sicheng’s breath hitches in his throat and he breaks away from the kiss to take in a gasp of air, a puerile grin sheening his face from the minimal pleasure being provided. Your action prompts him to slide his palm under your tee, and his warm hands meet your skin in a blazing touch. He moves in a similar pace as you, taking his sweet time.

Travelling down the crevasse of your neck once more, he leaves a light trace of soft kisses as he allows himself to feel every inch of your body. His hand paths its way down to the curvature of your ass, leaving it there for a few seconds caused by hesitation before squeezing it. You release a quiet titter and you feel Sicheng smile on the tender skin of your neck. He lifts his head up by an inch or two from the canvas that is your body and takes a few breaths. The warmth of his respiration splashes on your complexion, a blissful sensation you relish yourself in momentarily.

Sicheng continues to act with reluctance, hoping he is not making any mistakes for his first time, and allows his inner, prurient desires to overtake him. The ache to act on what he has been yearning to do to you finally washes over him like an elephantine wave, making this his pristine chance. The times he imagined causing your ecstasy, joyously kissing you all over, and driving you wild can all come to a reality tonight. Being aware of how close he is to his prolonged aspirations makes his cock harden even more, his imagination continuing to run on its own frenzy.

A hand of his streams under your shirt and up your torso; he grabs the underside of your breast and squeezes it mildly as his lips press onto your skin again. You crane your neck to provide him more access and grip onto the belt loops of his jeans. Sicheng takes a step closer, hardly any proximity present while he begins to grind his hardened cock onto you for more delight.

An exasperated groan leaves his throat; it is an experience he has never felt before. God, has he been missing out on this much? Sicheng parts from you to lock gazes. With parted lips and accumulating sweat, he releases an airy laugh. You smile at his innocent act; despite the animalistic exploit being put to play, he is still as ingenuous as ever. Seeing him amused by the moment makes your heart flutter, but it also makes you want him more.

Sicheng pecks your lips, and you return it with a kiss on his jawline. Your arms tangle with his neck and his trail around your lower back.

“Up,” he whispers.

In a high heaven, you jump and wrap your legs around his waist. His hands have a tight grip on your thighs and he locks his lips with yours as he attempts to stumble his way to the bedroom. You part from the kiss and rest your head on his shoulder, your eyes barely open as he guides your enmeshed bodies to his room. You are able to feel his rapidly thumping heart from being pressed hard against his chest; he has a sense of yours as well. It is like the two hearts are racing to have their desires be met—but the race has been going on for too long.

“Eager?” you ask him.

Sicheng darts his gaze to you and sets you down carefully on the soft of his bed. “I’ve been waiting for this far too long,” he tells you, crawling over your frame.

You scoot back on his bed, almost to the head rest, and he meets your face. His features are centimeters apart from yours; the sparkles that typically stain his eyes have diminished into darkness, the mark of a nonpareil desire he cannot withstand.

“So have I,” you respond, your voice clear and audible under the immense quietude of the room.

Sicheng kisses the apple of your cheek before moving to the conch of your ear to ask, “Tell me what you want—what you want me to do.”

You rotate your head to face him again, shocked by his willingness. Gulping, you gape at him for a long while before peering at your crotch. Your core is uncontrollably soaking with need, pulsing with desire, and you need it to be satisfied. The weeks have built on so much and the sexual attraction towards the bad boy skyrocketed.

Sicheng follows where your line of sight is being directed at and thinks for a second or so. Wordlessly, he strips you of your tee. No words need to be exchanged for him to catch onto what you want; the distant look in your eyes give it away, a silent beg. He unlatches your bra in a single go and tosses it to the side, discarding it as if it has no relevance. With steady palms, he roams your whole torso until he reaches the valleys of your breasts. Squeezing them again with cordial, you blithely throw your head back in acquiescence, fancying the enormous satisfaction. Intaking a hiss of air, you allow yourself to let loose and give Sicheng the main control for once.

Whilst massaging circles onto your chest, he kisses down your cleavage. With zeal, his plush lips leave its amorous trace in a peppered path of admiration. With every peck you feel the sturdy walls you have built around your being crumble. Sicheng acts as a weakness, your kryptonite, and you cannot do anything to stop it. The compelling indulgence is too much for you to resist at this point. He kisses you until he reaches your hip bones, to which he leaves a love bite before he continues his pursuit for your drenched core.

Carefully, his fingertips hook at the waistband of your shorts along with your panties, and he starts to tug them lower and lower. The sight of him pulling down your fabric kicks you on the edge of anticipation for what is about to happen next. Impatient, you want him to charge already with his tongue at your core, to feel his lips around your bud that is aching for anything to touch it.

You thrum, a hand being sent to his locks as you lay yourself flat down onto the bed. Tugging onto the soft strands of his hair, you whisper, “Sicheng, come on.”

Looking past his delicate lashes, he locks mesmerizing gazes with you. His listens, his head then hovering over your core—close enough for you to feel his breath linger over the dampness that stains your skin. He pauses, staring at you emptily like he is facing a mild debate in his mind.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him, petting his head.

Sicheng swallows his breath, afraid. “I-I don’t know what to do.”

You blink twice to comprehend his words, your mind moving slowly still. You chuckle and stroke his locks again. “Don’t worry, I can guide you through it. Just go—do something—please…”

Sicheng nods his head and opens his mouth. The last sight you get of him is his tongue peeking from the wide parting of his lips, his movements still mellow. You rest your head on his pillows and close your eyes, his breath hovering at your core a moderate tease. But nothing comes.

“Sicheng…” you trail off. You stroke his hair, trying to encourage him and ease him of his insecurities on lacking experience. “It’s okay, Siche—fuck!”

Sicheng has taken a breath before he sticks his tongue out completely. From your core and upwards he laps at your womanhood. The warmth of his muscle on your pussy causes your mind to twist in its own whirlwind, and your eyes clamp shut. You hear a few chuckles from the boy before he continues, and you are unable to question him in regards. He repeats the same action and earns the same response, like a puppy finding out what pleases its owner to earn a treat; in this case, your libidinous moans are a rhapsody to his ears.

His velvety lips wrap around your clip and he sucks onto it mercilessly. Sweaty hands of his rest on your thighs; every now and then he gives them a slight squeeze when you attempt to close your legs around his head. Sicheng lifts his head off your womanhood to take a breath—after a few moments, he dives right in. His tongue swirls all over your core, he takes your clit in between his lips and drags it out gently before he wraps his entire mouth around it for a vigorous suck.

“S-Sicheng!” you gasp, your head digging into the plush pillows. Your chest starts to heave, breathing now erratic as he continues. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

Sicheng continues to lap at your core with avidity to earn more of the pleasurable music rip from your throat, and it is not until he slides one of his hands over to your core for you to scream his name. Sicheng lifts his head for a split second—and that brief moment is all he needs for him to slide in two digits without warning. Your desire coats his fingers after a single pump, your dripping wetness a prominent sign of the unbeatable desperation you feel towards him. He stares at you for a few seconds, his eyes glued onto your bare torso: chest heaving as you struggle to catch a breath, and the marks he left on your body giving you the appearance of a masterpiece.

He starts off slow with his fingers, pumping them in and out at an agonizing pace. The stillness of the situation allows you to steady your breathing, and once you do Sicheng chuckles as if he has a plan hidden in a vault.

And he does.

Sicheng pulls out the tips of his fingers to your hole, the squelch more than audible in the room, and he rams his digits inside of you intensely. Consecutively, his tongue meets your pussy again and he savors in your taste—the muscle licking up your womanhood. A cry of his name leaves your mouth and you feel like you have hit the verge of tears. The grip on his locks tighten and you tug onto them, aching for a break—but a larger part of you craves for him to continue.

The force and pace becomes a set momentum, and the feeling is far too overwhelming for you to keep up with. Your mind can barely utter out words to the boy; let alone, think of coherent praises. Bits and pieces come together only to eradicate. You are unsure why—until your thighs begin to quiver. With Sicheng’s digits prodding in and out of you with slight twirls, curls of the fingers to attempt to hit your sweet spot, and his tongue ruthlessly acting onto your clit, you feel yourself coming close to the edge.

Your moans become louder as the exquisite scene continues, and your mind is doused by delectation that he is providing you with. You feel like you have hit a high heaven with each fervid thrust of his digits inside. It is not until Sicheng takes your clit between his lips once more, rubbing it in between the soft skin and immediately sucking on it as if it would soothe your ache for you to scream out for him.

It all happens so quickly: the transportation to a blissful seventh heaven. Your body is raptured by the pleasure and you cry out for the boy as the elation hits its brink. It is like the bliss he has created you has overflowed, similar to a cap popping off a bottle from the pressure. Your hips grind down onto his fingers as his head raises from your core, allowing you to ride off your state of thrill.

You never expected it to happen so quickly. To be honest, it is the fastest that a man has brought you to an intense release—and the fact Sicheng has little to no experience stuns you to the core. Sicheng slides out his fingers to slip his hand inside his pants, one digit after the other wrapping around his length to slightly jerk himself off. He lets you rest on his bed for you to catch your breath, your naked chest still heaving. Occasionally, your muscles spasm as a part of the aftermath, and he laughs.

Sicheng slips off his jeans and leaves them on the floor by the side of his bed. He joins your side, a tight grip still present around his member as you rest. Groggily, your arm reaches over his torso and you pull him close—a loving embrace that lasts for a few seconds, for your palm sails down to his cock and you replace his hand with your own.

Sicheng grumbles at the touch, especially when you give it a light squeeze. The feeling of your grip compact around his pulsating dick has him swimming in delectation. The lustful scenarios he always imagined is finally making its light into reality and he can barely wrap his head around it. You swipe your thumb over the head of his leaking cock, the tip a soft pink that is slowly bleeding into a saturated red, spreading the precum all over.

With licentious a gaze, Sicheng is gaping at you and your actions. It is like a young boy witnessing the wonders of the world for the first time: astonished to the core and curious to find out more. In this case, the wonder is you and you are providing him with an immense amount of indulgence that will eventually bring him to the edge of wanting more.

It becomes difficult for him to keep his breath steady from your hidden teases; he has to bite onto his lip with force to hold back any of the wanton noises that struggle to rip from his throat. Though, his efforts are all going down the drain once you slide your hand up to the tip of his cock, jerking it down to the base with a twist of your wrist.

A strangled groan pours from his mouth and he lurches over for a few seconds, caught by surprise with the raunchy action. His cock is warm in your hand, thrilled with desire—you only ache to satisfy it. However, watching Sicheng begin to wiggle under your touch makes you miss his own, and the wanting between your legs resurfaces.

Nonetheless, you jerk him off steadily. You raise your hand to the head of his cock once more only to bring it back down with force, tightening your grip. The tension that is occurring with Sicheng’s dick does not help the situation, for it merely amplifies the amount of rapturous glee he is feeling. He never thought that his cock would become so sensitive; he has been accustomed to his own hand, so it is an entirely divergent story when someone else is doing the deed for him. Sicheng has no control over it: he cannot slow down the pace or loosen the grip when he needs to take a break—and you keep on going.

You speed up the pace of jerking him off, your hand gliding up and down his cock quicker than before, and Sicheng throws his head back into his pillow. He struggles to properly catch his breath as you continue. His cock tenses under your touch. Being fully erect, it is the best feeling in the world to have your hand swirl over his hardened member, the leaking precum dripping to his length to aid it in its smooth journey.

He is facing a state of constant arousal with you being by his side, your hand wrapped snugly around his cock. Frankly, you are able to say the same. Watching Sicheng struggle to keep his moans of pleasure to himself, his chest heave for air, and the accumulating sweat on his forehead makes you miss the sensation of him touching you.

“God,” you mutter, voice barely audible.

Sicheng takes a while to respond, the letters coming together to form a word piece by scattered piece. “W-what?” he says with a groan, his own palm soaring downwards to wrap around your wrist.

You watch him with hungry eyes: his other palm is twisting his sheets and he can barely open his eyes as you jerk him off—almost turbulently.

“I still want you…” you whisper to him.

Sicheng chuckles as a response, his face turning slightly red. Even in a situation like this he is unsure how to react. The typical flush of cural hues and his lips quirking upwards into a smile is all he can really get out. That is, until your hand loosens its grip around his cock and you retract it, bringing it to his chest. The loss of contact makes him whine, and a few moments later without being tended to there is an ache that comes to it.

His eyebrows cross together in frustration due to the loss and he reaches his own arm over, willing to take care of business himself because you refused to—but you stopped him by swatting his wrist and holding it down to the mattress.

“W-what are you doing?” he says in between breaths.

You repeat, uttering each syllable. “I still want you.” You tilt your head higher, kissing his neck tenderly.

Sicheng pauses. “What do you want me to do about it?”

Smiling, you propose, “Eat me out again.”

Sicheng appears taken back. Maybe it is his mind being swirled into its own tornado, or perhaps it is due to his lack of understanding in this situation. “I want you too—but how is this going to work…?”

With a fit of playful chuckles, you raise yourself from the bed and start to position yourself on top of his face. “It’s called a ‘sixty-nine.’”

Sicheng’s eyes are blown wide as he has an A-class view of your rear, his two orbs glossy while his mouth begins to water. Sicheng stops you from lowering yourself with both of his hands on your hips. Nervous he asks, “Wait, what do I do?”

With your lips quirked into a smirk, you lean down, your head hovering over his cock. You wrap your fingers around his red member again, unable to take your eyes off his leaking slit.

“Same as earlier,” you tell him. Sicheng sighs at the lack of clarity in your response. An abundance of questions is resting on the tip of his tongue, but rather than voicing his unsurities he tightens his hold on your skin and pulls you down to him, jumping the gun.

Sicheng darts his tongue out onto your core, lapping at it hesitantly. So far, nothing is different aside from the position; he is trying his best to not falter his motion, to make you feel your greatest, but the second he feels a moist warmth over his cock he loses his focus.

Rather than jerking him off with your hands, your mouth wraps around the head of his cock. You start with a few kitten licks over his slit, the salty wetness kissing your tongue before you lower your head halfway down his length. Sicheng grumbles from the magnified sensation, making him take a quick breath. Lifting yourself to his head, you flatten your tongue as you sink down his solid length again—this time, going as far as you could to the base. With Sicheng’s cock you have to wrap around the space your mouth is not able to cover with your hand, and with a tight squeeze you suck.

The pressure he feels is overwhelming, but it is like a reward he has earned for treating you like a divine being. You bob your head up and down his hardened dick, your tongue swirling over the tip whenever you take a quick breath for air, and you sink your lips over his cock once more. As you continue to bob your head over his leaking cock, your hand swirls around his member, slightly jerking it off with each feral suck.

Sicheng is unable to yelp in joy as you give him the sensation of a lifetime. His wanton moans are muted by digging his face in between your folds, and instead of focusing on trivial motions to make you feel incredible, he is mindlessly licking stripes up your womanhood, sucking on your clit in replacements of cries of delectation. Whenever the sensation gets to you your grip becomes more compact, and it causes his muscles to spasm.

Or maybe that is because he is becoming close to his release.

Sicheng is starting to squirm more under your touch, his muscles tensing and twitching. You notice the quivering of his thighs—a signal that his orgasm is merely at the corner. As he continues to aid you in your pursuit for extreme elation, you act the same. Your lips are tightly packed around his head, his glistening cock throbbing for release. Your hand paths down to his balls, to which you squeeze and fondle—playing with them in your hands to brace yourself. You sink your head all the way down his cock, and Sicheng squirms uncontrollably from the sensation.

The wetness providing a smooth passage for you, and the warmth his aching dick is met with is more than satisfied. His entire length is covered by your mouth, and it is enough for him to feel a high heaven. Sicheng’s head is completely away from your core, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath.

“Fuck, fuck fuck—” he utters.

Then, you swallow around his cock.

There is a light sensation of pain that pricks at your throat, the feeling of his dick lodged in your mouth bringing tears to your eyes; as you feel a slight pain, Sicheng gets an intense wave of pleasure.

“D-do that again…” He begs, “P-please.”

Fluttering your eyes, you swallow around his cock again. Sicheng bucks his hips up your throat, prompting your gag reflex to occur. You raise yourself from his quivering dick, sitting comfortably on his torso as you cough, struggling to find your breath for a few seconds.

It takes you a while to realize the string of broken syllables that are your name leaving the boy’s mouth, his hips rolling into nothing but the air. Then, you see it. Sicheng’s cum spurts out of his hardened cock, sending its opaque whiteness into the air and back down to his sheets. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand as you watch his cum leak intensely out of his member, its twitching erratic.

Sicheng takes a breath, speaking amid gasps for air,“God… (y/n)... I-I’m cumming.”

You are mesmerized by the sight, hypnotized by the melody of his cries of delight.

Sicheng’s mind is whirling in its own intense thrill, the frenzy provided by you overwhelming for him. His hands no longer gripped onto your skin, but onto the sheets as if it would relieve the raptures he is soaring through.

Mindlessly, you lower yourself over his cock again to catch a light taste of his cum. For his dick to meet the wetness that is your tongue makes him jerk in elation. The saltiness that meets your tongue is a taste you expected, but there is something about it that drives you into a delirium, making you ache for more than his mouth digging into your folds.

“(y/n), okay, o-okay… This is good,” he struggles to say.

Sicheng’s dick is now flaccid and you move your body by his side, almost ready to pass out from the tiring moment. However, there is something in your sexual drive that prompts you to act one more time, for the scene is not finished yet.

Sicheng takes his soft cock in between his thumb and index finger, coaxing the member gently to avoid the painful sensitivity. There is a childish smile that is gracing his face; his body is relaxed; muscles no longer tense, but occasionally spasming. Laying by each other’s side in silence, glancing at one another with striking look, is like two hearts coming together as one. There is nothing wrong with Sicheng being by your side, nude; vice versa as well.

Five minutes pass, and that is five minutes of Sicheng continuing to coax his dick. The continuous touching has made him a little hard, making you realize this is a chance you have to take.

“Are you tired?” you whisper, nuzzling at his neck.

Sicheng needs a moment to respond. “Not really… why?”

“Well neither am I,” you inform. Your arm reaches over his chest to give him an embrace before you add, “I want to keep going.”

“S-still?”

You chuckle at his startle. “You said you’re not tired”—your eyes cast its gaze downwards to his cock, and the comment of you wanting more than his tongue alone made the blood rush down to his dick, so it is as hard as it was earlier—to no surprise—“and you seem like you need something as much as I do…”

Sicheng hums, questioning you, “What do you have in mind?”

“Well…” you trail off. “Do you have any condoms?”

“C-condoms?” he stutters. Sicheng lifts himself from the bed and moves himself against the headrest, gawking at you.

“It’s fine if you don’t,” you assure, “we can do this another—”

“I do,” he interrupts. Sicheng reaches over to the nightstand beside his bed and tugs on the handle of the drawer. His hand rummages in the depths of the drawer for a short while before he pulls out two square packages of foil, tossing them on the mattress.

He shuts the drawer closed, stretching his arms to the ceiling. Confused, you hold one in between your fingers to examine the packaging. “I thought you’re a virgin,” you tell him.

“I am,” he confirms.

Ripping a packet open, you toss the other onto the floor. “Then why do you have a stash of condoms in your drawer?”

Sicheng’s face turns pink, embarrassed as he says, “Taeyong gave me a pack around two months ago. He said he had too many and he wanted to get rid of some, so I took two boxes.”

You blink at him, your digits digging inside the packaging to take out the slick material. “I’m not even going to question that.”

“Good choice,” he jests.

You reach over and take his dick in one hand, sliding the condom over the head. Sicheng pays strict attention to you rolling the material over his length; after all, he has never really used one before. He watches your expertise as the material covers his entire cock, and the corner of his lips quirk upwards.

“I’m learning so much from you,” he says with a fit of laughter.

Blushing, you lay back down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. “Whatever.”

“So, uh, how do I do this?” he questions you.

You press a palm to your forehead, disbelieved at his lack of understanding. “Have you ever watched porn before, Sicheng?”

“Yeah, is it really the same thing?” he questions. “Jaehyun always told me it’s nothing like it so I don’t know if I should—”

“Just go—do anything. Trust me,” you tell him, reaching to hold onto his hand, “once your dick is inside me nothing else is going to matter.”

Sicheng nods his head and plants a kiss on your forehead. It is not unexpected for him to act slowly. He appears to be doing mental calculations before each action: to kiss you, have his hands roam all over your body, and for him to finally rest on top of you.

His left palm trails down the outline of your body before sliding down your core, making you shudder in the cold contact. He slides in two fingers, testing the waters to see if you are stretched out enough; the last thing Sicheng wants is for you to feel pain during an indulging moment. Luckily, you are.

Sicheng takes his cock in hand and positions it at your entrance. You close your eyes, hearing the deep breaths he takes to calm himself down. Your stroke his cheek with the back of your hand and say, “Do you want to do this?”

Sicheng nods his head, moving to kiss your forehead once more. “I do.”

“Take your time.”

He nods again and looks down. Slowly but surely, he starts to enter you. Little by little his cock becomes wrapped by your folds, starting with his tip. The wetness of your womanhood makes the process easier, enjoyable for both parties, and it takes a good minute for him to be completely inside of you. You take a deep breath and flutter your eyes open to look at him.

No words need to be exchanged for such a heartfelt moment, and none are. He presses his lips against yours before he starts to move, rolling his hips onto you. The motion is enjoyable off the bat. The feeling of Sicheng filling you to the brim, his hardened length sliding in and out of you is the root of the exquisite sense. Movements are fluid, slow as his lips dance with yours. It is quite similar to the act of two lovers having sex, and knowing that makes your heart warm.

The gentle thrusting into your aching pussy is slowly transforming itself into prods of passion. Once you order him to go faster, he acts by it and kicks up his pace for you, amplifying the force of his sharp movements. His cock is making you feel excessively full of desire, and you start to breathe out his name. “S-Sicheng,” you whisper, your arms looping around his neck.

You pull him close to your chest as he starts to thrust harder into you, and his lips latch onto your skin, sucking marks all over your breasts to create a masterpiece. Your own dew was coating his cock, and it only aided in the smooth flow of his dick being propelled in and out of you. He feels a compulsion to bring you to your orgasm, a profound fixation you make you feel the fascination he had; so, he rams into you with more force—moving quicker.

Sicheng shifts his position a little, making himself a little more comfortable; though, it is that one simple shift of a few inches that gets him to hit your sweet spot at the proper angle.

“Fuck!” you cry out, your back arching off the mattress. “S-Sicheng—shit, t-that feels good.”

Sicheng takes his cock out of you, only leaving the tip of it at your entrance, and he takes a breath. You are about to whine at the loss, but the cries of sadness transformed itself into a moan of elation as he snaps his hips into you, hitting your sweet spot with an incredible amount of force.

Tears begin to well at your eyes from the inordinate feeling, your mind is in its own ecstasy as he keeps up the motion.

The moans you have struggled to keep lodged in your chest finally come out in screams, broken syllables of his name and commands. Your hands untangle from his neck and slam onto the mattress. You grip onto the sheets tightly, quite similar to the tight sensation that forms at your abdomen. Your muscles start to twitch and the libidinous moans that pour from your lips feeds Sicheng’s drive.

It is fair to say that he feels the exact same way you do. Your pussy is clenching around his throbbing cock; it is disturbingly hard and is aching for release, and he is doing all he can to hold off until you finish. The pressure that wraps around his dick is immeasurable; groans rip from his throat and the two of you create a rhapsody of sensual noises.

“F-fuck, Sicheng, I’m g-going to come…” you tell him, wrapping an arm around his back. Your nails dig into his skin as you feel yourself coming close to the edge—dangerously close.

He nods his head in understandment, and he takes his cock all the way out, only to slam it back it—which is the final cue for you to reach your extreme rapture of delight. You scream his name like it is the only thing you know and impassionately pull him close.

Sicheng subsequently acts in a similar manner, moaning your name as he releases his load into the condom. The wave of pleasure spreads throughout his entire body for the second time; a wonderful, euphoric feeling, and it is like bliss is coursing through his veins. He proceeds to gently roll his hips in and out of you, aiding your journey until your mind is back down to earth.

He slips his softening cock out of you and slips it off, immediately passing out on the empty spot next to you. Both you and Sicheng lay in silence to regain each other’s breaths. It is almost impossible to believe the moment that has just happened: you two had sex with each other.

You roll by his side and he wraps an arm around you, pulling you in closer to his chest like a loving embrace. His body is sticky like yours from the accumulated sweat, and the heat that circulates in the room withers into a bearable warmth.

There is something about being in Sicheng’s embrace that makes your heart flutter. You do not react out of disgust from the mere sight of him, but act in a way no one thought you would. You tilt your head up to look at him and he notices, locking eyes with yours.

“What is it?” he asks you with a smile.

You shake your head. “Nothing,” you respond.

You cannot help but think more about what has happened—the journey to build where you are with him.

The rumours that went around about Sicheng, constructing the belief that he is a bad boy—a partier that does nothing but fool girls and drink, party and try drugs—are definitely false. There is something about him that has you hooked, but you do not need to pinpoint the reason why. Admiration has worked in mysterious ways and being by Sicheng’s side is enough for you. Whether the immature fighting would pursue or if it is to turn into a loving, tawdry relationship, you would not mind.

Because Sicheng’s existence as a whole has you hooked, and this moment right now with him by your side is enough for nothing to matter.

Sicheng clears his throat, preparing to ask a question as he pulls you in closer to his chest. “So, uh.” He hesitates. “Do you still want to go out on that date?”

Smiling foolishly, you tighten your hold around his torso. “Maybe later. I want to stay here a little longer.”

Your response makes Sicheng’s heart skip a beat. A hand rests on his chest as you slowly close your eyes, the fatigue waving over your body to pull you into a serene sleep.

Rather than responding with words, Sicheng places a kiss on your forehead before shutting his eyes as well.

Time after time Sicheng has faced countless girls trying to score with him, and over a series of events you have witnessed many men willing to spend a night. The thought of a decent relationship and meeting on the mutual field of love has always been out of the question. However, after both abundances and unpleasant situations cascading one after another, it led you to cross paths. Two polar opposites coming together is almost surreal, unfathomable for everyone else to believe—but it has happened.

Sicheng truly was never one for attachment, and love never was a word in his dictionary—not until he met you.

Fairly enough, you are able to say the same.

#nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct fluff #winwin fluff #winwin smut #nct smut #nct imagines #nct reactions #nct 127 smut #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 scenarios #nct fanfic #nct #nct winwin #winwin #sicheng #sicheng smut #sicheng fluff #dong sicheng #neoculturenet #writing

[extremelyslappy]

Thousand Years

Pairing: Ritsu/Shou

Word Count: 7655 words

Summary: It's been five months since Shou left to go somewhere. He didn't say where, but it's been so long. Ritsu's slowly losing control of his life. Mob, Teruki, and Reigen are concerned and attempt to save him from drowning in his emotions. But it seems that the only lifeline that can save him is Shou himself.

Read on AO3!

"Ritsu, come on and stay with us. It'll be fun!" Shigeo pleaded as he gripped his brother's hands. Ritsu sat on the edge of his bed with the curtains drawn shut and the lights completely off. The uncharacteristically messy room unnoticeable in the dark.

The teen looked up and glared into his brother's eyes as they gleamed with innocent hope. He looked away and squinted at the open door that's letting in light. A figure rested against the doorway.

Ritsu quickly knew who it was at the sight of the awful, neon Ty-dye crop top and leggings with ripped short-shorts over them.

"Yea brother-kun, a night at Reigen-san's place will help you get away!" Teruki chirped with a plastic, cheeky grin he always carried when Shigeo was around. The second his brother was gone that facade quickly fades. It was amusing to Ritsu.

He eyed his messy desk with papers and pencils scattered.

"I... Uhm... I'm busy. I have to study and do homework..." Ritsu mumbled before pulling his hands away from his brother's.

"Oh... I guess you're right..." Shigeo mumbled. Shigeo turned away and was close to walking away.

"Hey! It's an extended weekend this week! An extra 2 days! You don't have to worry 'bout anything!" Teru quickly interrupted. Ritsu and Shigeo flinched at the sudden change in tone. Ritsu looked at Teru and saw the piercing glare. He knew Teru wouldn't let him say another word.

"I... Well... Fine, I'll come with you." Ritsu reluctantly agreed. Shigeo flashed a quick smile before helping Ritsu pack any necessities for the stay.

Five months ago, finding Ritsu's clothes and other necessities would've been a breeze. But somehow it seems like Ritsu's self-control slipped away.

Old clothes laid under the bed and wrappers and empty soda cans littered his desk. Dusty old books lined the shelves. Had they described Ritsu's room to anyone at school, they wouldn't believe them.

Shigeo and Teruki shared a glance as they saw Ritsu lazily throw a shirt into his backpack. His usual foreboding silence now heavier than before. They both knew why.

-----

"What do you mean you're leaving again?!" Ritsu screamed at the young esper. Shou simply rubbed his neck and gave his trademark smile.

"I'm not leaving! That implies I'm gonna be gone for a long time!" Shou responded. Ritsu, Teruki, and Shigeo faced Shou. Scratch that, surrounded him.

"You have a bad habit of 'leaving' with your definition of that word." Teru retorted with a slight cock to his hips as emphasis.

"Suzuki-Kun, we miss you when you're gone, that's all..." Shigeo said.

"Tch, as if." Ritsu scoffed.

"I know you love me. You can just tell me, Rit-chan." Shou said as he stuck out his tongue.

"God, no and don't call me that!"

"Besides, the longest I've been gone is like what... three weeks? That was only because of extensive travel delays." Shou explained.

"Travel delays? You probably have inherited billions of yen to waste. Can't you just call a private jet to take you back here like a taxi?" Ritsu sarcastically asked.

"I have to save my money. Pops gives me a bit for my allowance during the years. I knew that if I wanted to take down pops I'd have no source of income. So I've been saving up for several years." Shou casually elaborated. "Can't spend all of it on elaborate wants. I wanna go to college!" Shou shrugged.

The rest of the group was taken back by Shou's sound logic. It's often hard to forget that he knows how to manage his rough lifestyle.

"I'll only be gone for a while. I have to take care of some unfinished business..." Shou began to trail off. He quickly noticed his own changing mood and perked back up. "I'll call y'all when I'll be back, I promise!"

-----

It's been five months since then. Neither one got a single call or text from him. Hell, even a letter sent from a fucking carrier pigeon would be reassuring.

Shigeo and Ritsu both waved goodbye to their mother as they stepped outside. The sun burned Ritsu's eyes as he adjusted to the sudden brightness. He could've sworn it was late at night. But by the looks of it, it only seemed barely passed 12 PM!

Ritsu turned to face the other two. They seemed unfazed by the sunlight.

It pissed him off for some reason.

The trio silently stood at the front gate of the Kageyama household as they waited for Reigen.

They saw a sweaty man in a suit and tie walk calmly towards them. It was Reigen. He was right on time. 12:45.Though they wondered why he was so sweaty when it wasn't even that hot. (Truth be told, Reigen woke up late and sprinted here. Being on time is a life lesson that's important to teach! He must be a shining example to the kids! Or at least as much as he can be...)

"Master Reigen, I'm amazed at how you're always on time."

"Punctuality is key to success, Mob! Haha... Anyway, I'm gonna bring you guys to the apartment so you can drop your stuff. Then we can explore the bigger part of the city. How does that sound?" Reigen asked.

He scanned the kids' faces. Shigeo and Teruki seemed on board. While his younger brother paid no attention to anything; he seemed rather interested in the loose string of his shirt.

"Yea, that sounds good!" Teru responded.

"It sounds like fun." Shigeo agreed.

"Yea... Probably..." Ritsu also agreed (in response to Teru's sharp elbow jab to his side.)

----

The walk to Reigen's apartment was a drag. The heavy silence was overbearing on the group's backs. The small attempts from Reigen to make small talk failed to even lift the weight that was Ritsu. He tried to ask him how school was or how he was doing in his extracurricular activities, but the most he could stifle from him was a simple grunt or a one word response.

The rest of the walk there was silent soon after. They all lamented on what caused this mess.

Shigeo hoped that maybe getting Ritsu out would cheer him up a bit. Teru thought a little shopping spree/exploration in the city would "engage his senses". (Well, kinda...) Reigen was heavily against forcing Ritsu to do anything he was against, knowing it would provoke him. But Reigen decided to take a shot.

Nothing.

----

Shigeo started to pray for his brother to simply smile. His brotherly instincts couldn't handle seeing how Ritsu was. His mind began to wander as he imagined the worst that could've happened to Shou.

He knew Shou was strong and determined person. He would do anything and everything to get what he wanted. He noticed it when he found out who had staged his parent's murder and why. While the first few weeks he was... hesitant... to interact with Suzuki, once he saw how Ritsu took to him, Shigeo decided to let his grudge go for Ritsu's sake. Suzuki was loud and jumpy and full of energy which threw him off. He would also invite himself into their home randomly. Of course, he got used to it, but it is common courtesy to say you're coming over.

One day Shigeo came home early from his workout. He went to see his if his brother was home and found Suzuki on Ritsu's bed, knees up, with a drawing pad resting against them and with headphones in his ears. He tried to call out to him but Shou had his music up at a loud volume. Shou bobbed his head up and down as he sang along to a song Shigeo recognized.

He decided to just walk up to him and sit beside him. Once he did that, Shou quickly flinched and nearly fell off the bed before he ripped off his headphones.

"You should warn people when you're coming!" Shigeo remembered he shouted. He giggled at the irony.

"Nice drawing." He commented. He pointed at an elegant sketch of two figures dancing. Shou smiled.

"Thanks." Shou moved a bit to allow Shigeo to sit better. He then took one earbud and listened to the song Shou was playing.

"Oh, if you want I can change the song!" Shou offered. Shigeo shook his head.

"I like this song." They soon quickly sparked a conversation. They went on for what seemed like hours talking about whatever topic would come up from drawing, to music, to other interests while they each had an earbud and listened to the same song on loop. It was One Step at a Time by Jordin Sparks. An odd song to bond over as Shou said, obviously embarrassed by his love for the song. But he quickly chastised him by saying that if he liked the song, then he shouldn't be embarrassed by what he loved.

He responded by poorly and loudly singing the song.

Shigeo joined in too with his broken English. It was the loudest he had ever sung in front of a person. It was exhilarating. He didn't even notice his brother standing at the door.

He began to wonder what could've happened to Shou that he wouldn't respond or communicate at all with them.

His internal percentage increased at the thought of the worst happening and at the sight of his brother hunched over and staring at the road.

----

By any outsider, Teru would look like any stereotypical teen distracted while texting and walking on their phone. However, well, that's kinda what he was doing.

To Shou: hey suzuki-kun

To Shou: yo suzuki

To Shou: shou wtf

To Shou: hey jackass

To Shou: fuck face

To Shou: away old

To Shou: *asshole i fucking hate autocorrect

To Shou: boi

To Shou: hey

To Shou: why

To Shou: wont

To Shou: u

To Shou: fucking

To Shou: answer

To Shou: god i hate u

To Shou: jk ily

To Shou: ....

To Shou: nvm

Teru grunted before shoving the phone back into the pocket of his shorts. Shou wasn't going to respond, right? What Teruki would give for even a single random message from Shou… He'd take one of those random memes he would send at like 1 in the morning where he would compare it to something that they actually did. (Teru's favorite message was when he sent a gif of a man wearing shades and sprinkling salt and said "lmao i found reigen") Teru would often find himself staying up late and staring at his phone. He waited for his phone to vibrate only to be dragged back to sleep.

-----

Reigen even started to miss the boy. He would often barge into the office when Mob wasn't around or when he was at school. He would lie on the couch and help around the office by filing paperwork and even helping him exorcize some spirits from time to time. Though the amount of time he spent at Reigen’s office concerned him.

“Are you even enrolled in a school?” Reigen had one day asked.

“A what?” He remembered he responded with. Reigen rolled his eyes.

It’s the little things he learned about Shou that made the man connect with the kid. Reigen knows that he liked to drink hot chocolate out of a cup that had little bunnies on them. Shou liked to mess with Serizawa when he was in the office. Often playing lighthearted jokes or pranks at the poor man. But Shou knew where Serizawa’s limits were and the older man admired that.

Shou liked to watch dumb videos of people getting hurt on his computer or some wrestling recaps. Shou would often play cheesy pop songs on blast when no other client was around. They would often end in dance competitions between all three of them. He remembered a specific moment that ended up with a broken wooden chair and a hamster scrambling around in its ball on the floor when a client walked in.

He also liked to draw on Reigen’s laptop. He remembered fondly at how he drew different illustrations. Shou was very passionate about his hobby. Reigen even mentioned at how he should study and find work in that field.

What he found odd was that Shou flushed at the comment. What sounded like a typical offhand comment to most, flustered Shou.

He must have not heard any compliment like that. Reigen thought. Reigen was typing on his laptop when he remarked that. Once he looked back at the kid, Shou was scribbling even faster in his sketch book.

Even when times were slow, he was able to connect with the kid and even help him during his more troubled times. The kid's life was more broken than a shattered mirror, which surprised Reigen at how well he handled everything. During the past few months, he patiently waited for the loud knocking on his window. The potted daffodils Shou gave him still sat by the windowsill.

----

They had soon arrived at Reigen's apartment. The trio placed their bags down on his couch. Reigen offered them water and a small snack before heading into the larger part of the city. Shigeo and Teru had accepted while Ritsu opted to lie on the couch and curl up.

"Are you sure you don't want even a glass of water?" Reigen asked with concern. Ritsu simply curled up even more.

"I'm sorry... I'm not hungry. My stomach hurts a bit." Ritsu responded. Reigen grabbed his small backpack and packed a couple of granola bars and several bottles of water.

--

After a couple of minutes, they had begun to take off and take a bus there. Once they had arrived, Ritsu decided to shut everything around him out.

All the bright colors from the neon bright lights and signs just muddied up into some odd and dark color. The sounds of multiple cars passing became mute in his head. Even when they walked into a store that had clothing he wanted, he couldn't seem to find any way to feel anything.

It bothered him so much. All Ritsu wanted to do was just to laugh with Reigen at Teruki's horrible fashion tastes. He wanted to laugh until he started to cramp in his abdomen when Teru put on a large fluffy coat that was a bright pink with lightning bolt shades. When his brother turned to him with a smile, he forced a laugh to ease his brother's concern.

But he couldn't really find anything energy to be honest with his emotions. He still had no energy even when he asked Reigen for the granola bar. Everything seemed to drag on and it pissed him off so much.

Something was missing.

He knew what it was.

But he was powerless to do anything about it.

He missed Shou.

He actually missed that ball of red hair and he couldn't believe it.

Was he going to come back?

He promised he would.

Was he even alive? Ritsu didn't even want to think about that.

Maybe he left on purpose because he hated them? Somehow that thought hurt more.

But, how long was he going to wait and hold out for Shou to come back? It's been five months. The school year is almost over.

How long will he wait and blissfully hope for Shou's return?

"Ritsu? Ritsu? You there?" A soft voice asked. He looked up and didn't even realize they were walking. His brother had a small hand on his shoulder as Teru and Reigen both held concerned expressions. He wiped his wet eyes and smiled.

"Yea, I'm fine. I didn't mean to space out. What were we talking about?" Ritsu asked with a smile creeping a bit.

He finally decided on what he was going to do.

---

Their trip soon came to a close as the sun threatened to set. All of their hands were filled with bags of several knickknacks and clothes. He walked beside Reigen as Shigeo and Teru walked ahead of them to the bus station.

"Hanazawa-Kun?" Shigeo asked with bags covering his entire face.

"Yes, Shige?" Teru sweetly said. Ritsu and Reigen rolled their eyes at Teru's obvious flirting.

"Uhm... Oh! Are you doing anything next week?" He asked, blushing a bit.

"I don't think so. Why?"

"Uh.... My art class... We're doing an exhibition as a final project. I wanted to see if you wanted to come and see what I made. I based one part of my project on you!" Shigeo stated. Teruki was taken back by the offer and blushed a bit.

"Hanazawa-Kun? Are you getting a fever?" Shigeo asked as he placed the back of his hand against his forehead. Teru simply stuttered out an affirmation in response which seemed to please Shigeo. Teru quickly looked away and stared at the ground in embarrassment.

Reigen sucked his teeth and turned to Ritsu.

"Can you believe this? They're so obvious!" Reigen cried out. Ritsu gave the man a confused look.

"I mean, look at how they flirt. It's painful." Reigen groaned. Ritsu now understood.

"Yea, my brother isn't the most... Observant of all people... Don't even get me started about all the times he's asked me about if Hanazawa-Kun talks about him when we hang out." Ritsu commented.

"Ha ha ha! There have been so many times I've had to play therapist for Teruki because he asked me how to deal with his emotions for Mob!" Reigen chuckled. He raised an eyebrow and motioned his thumb towards them. Ritsu knew what he meant and shook his head.

They'll find out how to resolve their feelings in this messy world. So, why meddle with it? Ritsu smiled as he watched them stumble and blush their way in love.

----

By the time they had returned back to Reigen's apartment the sun was a dark, rich red and orange in the horizon. Tired and hungry, Reigen offered to go to a fast food joint nearby and pick up something for all of them.

The three were silent for a while as they all sat on the couch with some random show playing in the background.

"Hey... Let's have a pillow fight..." Teru said and looked at the two siblings.

"We shouldn't mess with..." Shigeo said.

"I'm in!" Ritsu shouted. Shigeo closed his mouth, shocked at the sudden change in mood. Teru quickly grabbed a couch cushion and threw it at Ritsu's face. As it comically slid off, a devilish smile began to form.

"It's on!"

---------

"Hey guys, I brough- Agh!" Reigen screamed as he was hit in the face with a pillow. He looked up from the bags of fast food he carried and saw the entire apartment in disarray. All the kids stood frozen in their tracks. Teruki and Ritsu both had a pillow raised and aimed at each other while Shigeo stood nearby holding one and shaking in his boots.

Reigen laughed and picked up the pillow on the floor.

"You guys could've waited for me!" Reigen laughed. "Hey, Mob!" He shouted.

"Yes, master?" He said.

"Think fast!" Reigen yelled before quickly throwing the pillow in Shigeo's direction. The other two quickly caught on Reigen's scheme.

Ritsu quickly dove and tackled his brother to the ground and landed hard on the ground. While Teru dramatically ran in front of the pillow as it hit him in the chest with a loud thud. Teru fell backward hard on the floor. He placed the back of his hand against his forehead and reached for the ceiling light with his other hand.

"No! I've been hit! I can see the light!" Teru melodramatically shouted.

"Hanazawa-Kun! No!" Ritsu fake cried as he crawled to Teru and placed his forehead against his chest. Teru pulled Ritsu's head up.

"Brother-Kun...."

"Yes?"

"Tell Kageyama-Kun... That I..." Teru dramatically wheezed as he gripped Ritsu's hand.

"You what?"

"I.... I... Ugh..." Teru stuck his tongue out as he rolled to his side with a snicker.

"No! Hanazawa-Kun is dead! Rest well soldier!" Ritsu screamed. He motioned Shigeo to come closer. Shigeo kneeled on the floor, confused as to what was going on.

"Oh, Shigeo! What are we gonna do now?!" Ritsu continued to fake cry as he tightly hugged his brother. He was still confused, lightly patted his back.

"Bury him?" Shigeo answered. Ritsu immediately stood up and pulled him up.

"You're right!" Ritsu cried as he went to pick up all the pillows he could find. He looked at Reigen and Shigeo to do the same. They all began to pick up and find all the pillows they could carry.

With their arms full of pillows, the three surrounded the boy on the floor.

"Does anyone have anything to say about Teruki Hanazawa?" Reigen asked in the same dramatic tone.

"Hanazawa-Kun was a good person. He will be missed?" Shigeo tried to act along, but he didn't know what to do. He could hear a small sniffle from the floor.

"Yea, Hanazawa-Kun was kinda cool. Eh, he's also an asshole." Ritsu flatly stated.

("Hey!"

"Shut up, you're supposed to be dead."

"None of you are invited to my funeral... Except Kageyama-Kun.")

"If that's all, then we shall begin the ceremony!" Reigen said. By ceremony, they meant to drop all the pillows on top of Teruki, covering him in head to toe with pillows till you couldn't see any speck of him.

Ritsu quickly nudged his brother and snapped his fingers and looked at Reigen. He opened his mouth in an O-shape in response. This wasn't their pillow fight. When Ritsu and Shigeo did the same with their parents, they came up with secret signals. "Ambush." That's what that one meant.

"Hanazawa-Kun will be avenged!" Ritsu shouted before he grabbed a pillow in both hands as Shigeo followed also. They charged for Reigen and tackled him to the ground. They both started to smack the man around with the pillows. It seemed like they had the upper-hand until Reigen grabbed them both.

"I can't move!" Shigeo shouted.

"I call this move 'The Bear Hug'!" Reigen proclaimed as he tightly squeezed the two kids. The man began to cackle maniacally. This was it... It's over...

Until Reigen was met with a mouth full of feathers!

"Agh! What!?" Reigen cried as he released the kids out of shock. The brothers looked up at who their savior was.

"Hanazawa-Kun!" They shouted as Teru continuously hit the man with a pillow. The brothers quickly grabbed more pillows and joined in also.

"I thought you were dead?" Shigeo asked.

"Spiritual intervention calls!" Teru shouted as he continued to hit the poor man.

"Ah! Please! No more! I surrender!" Reigen cried as he gripped a stray napkin and waved it like a flag. The kids stopped and were breathing heavily. Man... What a workout...

Reigen sat up and looked at the time on the TV.

"We should eat! We don't want the burgers getting cold." Reigen pointed at bags of food on the table. The three immediately got up and dashed for the food, suddenly remembering how hungry they were.

----

After eating and cleaning up, Reigen pulled out the couch to the bed it can be. The four laid on it and put on some animated movie that Shigeo really wanted to see. They huddled with a large blanket and a large bowl of popcorn in middle.

The movie he wanted to see was surprisingly poignant seeing as it was a movie about sentient emotions in a teen's brain. They continued with a movie Teruki wanted to see, which was a b-rated horror movie. He didn't really consider Teruki to be a horror movie person. The movie was so cheaply made and the special effects were so poor it was hard not to laugh.

By the time it was his turn to choose a movie, everyone else has fallen asleep. Reigen had his head back against the couch, snoring loudly. Shigeo had laid his head on his lap, back on the couch. Teruki snuggled his brother as he had his head snuggled into Shigeo's chest and an arm lazily wrapped around his waist.

Ritsu sighed as he stared at the time. 1:23. Heh. It went in numerical order. He grabbed the remote and lowered the volume and selected some show and a random episode. He didn't get it. It was a show about an office and the people who worked there.

God, he was so tired. Trying to keep a happy face was tiring him out. He didn't understand how waiters or cashiers did it. He found a new gratitude towards them. But he wanted to sleep for the next few days, yet he wasn't tired.

The end of the couch where Ritsu sat at was the closest to the window. He looked up and out the window as he ran his fingers through his brother's hair. He was pretty sure Shigeo was drooling.

The mindlessly gazed out at the stars with the TV being white noise to cover the silence. His eyelids started to become heavy. He'll just... Slowly... Sleep...

Zap!

Ritsu quickly bolted wide awake as he felt a surge of energy invade the air. It felt like another person was near.

His head shot up and he looked at the sky.

A familiar streak of orange ripped the night sky as if the morning sun had shot it with a bullet.

Could it be? It had to be!

He got up and carefully settled Shigeo down and pried open the window. He crawled out and onto the emergency exit. His socks were the only source of warmth against the cold metal. His eyes lit up in wonder as he gazed at the orange streak in the sky.

He had to follow it.

He quickly climbed down the emergency exit's stairs. Once at the end, he quickly jumped onto the pavement. He looked up again. The streak was fading.

Ritsu got up and kept his gaze on the streak in the sky as he sprinted through the streets. His socks were going to be so dirty after this. His attention was so focused on the sky that he narrowly missed a car about to hit him.

He must look crazy. It's the middle of the night and he was running through the streets in an area he didn't even know. He was wearing an old, green, long-sleeved shirt with some gray sweatpants and he was just in his socks! He wouldn't be surprised if someone had called the cops on him and said he was a runaway.

None of it mattered. He was going to follow the fucking streak until it killed him. He continued to run for what seemed like hours.

Hell, he now ended up on a god damn bridge! He hoped to God no one was going to mug him. Wait. He was an esper. He can just fight back.

Ritsu continued to sprint through the city as he followed the orange streak in the sky. He tracked its every move and every turn it did.

His legs were starting to give out as they shook under his weight. His chest was tight and his lungs and throat pierced through his body. His head was pounding and he could hear his ears ringing.

But nothing was going to stop him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if it was nothing. If he had been running for hours for what was nothing.

No! Ritsu pushed those thoughts out of the way.

"It's him! It's gotta be!" Ritsu cried out to the night.

-----

Soon, he started to recognize where he was. He was... In his neighborhood? Yeah, it had to be! He was near by the road that led to the bus stop they took to get to Reigen's apartment. And he recognized that tree that Shigeo once puked on when they were little! And he recognized the house of a sweet, old woman who would invite them over for tea!

The streak in the sky soon descended somewhere near where his house should be. It had to be! He's not dreaming! With the last of his strength, he sprinted to his home. Ritsu never ran as fast as he had now. Not even when he was competing in the school's triathlon. His chest felt tighter than when Claw had first kidnapped him and when the dreaded fear of never escaping clawed his mind. The wind pierced his face like it was throwing an endless supply of needles. Ritsu would brave it all again and again if it meant he could see him again.

He was running so fast, he barely registered that he almost passed his own house. He skidded to a stop and slammed the gate open so hard, it slammed into the brick pillar with a loud crash. It would've definitely woken up his parents had they been home. The lights being off told him so.

Ritsu looked up and saw a shadowy figure standing on his balcony trying to pry open the window to his room.

Ritsu stood at the entrance, right in front of the gate. He hunched over, breathing in and out harshly as he gripped his knees to maintain balance. His chest heaved as he realized just how tired he was. The security light on top of the brick pillar being the only source of light in the street. His hair was messier than usual as weird strands stuck out in odd places. He could feel drops of sweat running down his face. Ritsu was definitely sure that his feet were bleeding and calloused now.

He didn't care.

The shadowy figure seemed to move its head towards Ritsu. Ritsu's glare pierced the figure's soul. The only thing filling in the silence between the two was Ritsu's heavy breathing. The figure stepped away from the windowsill and move closer to the edge of the balcony. Pale fingers gripped the railing as they looked below. When the security light shined brightly enough, Ritsu could make out a familiar strand of red hair.

A familiar aura invaded his senses. He felt warm. Safe. He couldn't take it.

"Hey, Ritsu! You forget your sh-"

"Fuck you!" Ritsu screamed, interrupting Shou.

"Huh?!" The boy flinched at his response. This was not what he imagined.

"You heard me, you fucking asshole!" Shou was taken back by his harsh tone. This was definitely not what he planned.

"Five months. That's how long you've been gone!" Ritsu cried. His entire body was shaking with adrenaline.

"Do you know... How worried we were?! How long we were waiting?!" Ritsu asked. Shou knew he didn't want an answer.

"You didn't call or text us. Even a fucking letter would've been nice! We asked ourselves so many questions. We started to wonder... “were you ever going to come back?” We even doubted if you were still alive. They clawed at us like a bear." He breathed in harshly.

"We tried to tell ourselves that you were okay and you would be back soon. But more often than not..." Ritsu sucked in another breath. "I thought that you hated us so fucking much that you decided to run away."

"I tried so hard to convince myself you would come home. I wasted these past five months locked up in my room, hoping you would barge in and everything would go away." Fat tears started to stream down his face, mixing in with his sweat.

"I wasted all this time thinking about you while everyone else had seemed to move on. Nothing else mattered. I stopped paying attention in class and doing homework cause I didn't want to miss you if you came back!" He could feel his tears pool at the corner of his mouth as he continued to blubber.

"Earlier today, when we were in the city, I asked myself... "How long am I going to wait?" And so..." The tears began to drip from his mouth like drool. He tried to wipe his mouth but his arm kept shaking.

"Shigeo and the rest of us just looked at me as I spaced out. And then I decided..." Now he could feel fucking mucus dribble down too.

He sniffled and wiped his nose. "I would move on with them. I decided that I would stop thinking about you. I was going to wait for you. Even if I graduated middle school, high school, college, I would wait for you. Even if I was old and gray and filled with wrinkles... I was going to wait for you here." All Ritsu could taste was salt in his mouth.

"And now that I promised myself that you and your fucking face now decide to show up!" Ritsu dropped to the floor onto his knees. He huddled himself as he wrapped his arms around himself. His nails dug into his shoulders. He lowered his head and hunched over as if he was gonna roll into a ball.

"I was so happy that my brother didn't have to worry about me anymore! I was so proud that I decided that on my own! Agh!" Ritsu was full-on bawling now and he couldn't stop crying.

"And now you decide to fucking come home and make me break my promise!" He screamed and cried like a pained animal.

"Just do one good thing in your entire goddamned life and answer me!" Ritsu screeched as his tears started to choke him.

"Tell me you still care! Tell me you still care about all of us!" He heaved one last final breath.

"I'm fucking begging you, tell me you love me..." He was barely able to muster the plea. Ritsu caved in and fell forward. He felt his forehead touch the cold pavement. His head was pounding and his lungs were scrambling for air as he continued to cry. Ritsu screwed his eyes shut as he repeatedly shook his head.

Warmth starts to surround him. He no longer felt any weight in his legs. Everything felt light. He opened his eyes as saw the ground no longer below him. An orange hue embraced him in its stead. There was a small tug at his sleeves before he felt warm hands held his own. He felt a thumb run across his knuckle. He looked up and was met with pale blue eyes that welcomed him and a smile that killed him.

Shou cocked his head and closed his eyes and chuckled. He opened them once more and gave his signature wide smile.

"Of course! I could never forget you! I've always loved you! I have since... like what? Forever!?" Shou cried out.

Ritsu was taken back. A sudden surge of energy courses through his veins. He looked at the aura and saw a mess of orange, blues, and purples clashing. Ritsu smiled and tackled the red head. His arms wrapped around Shou's neck tightly as he still cried. Ritsu's hand gripped his hair as the other grasped his jacket tightly he could rip it.

Shou returned the sentiment and wrapped an arm around him and ran his fingers through Ritsu's tangled hair and pressing light kisses where ever he could reach.

Shou softly moved his hands as he pulled Ritsu back. He placed a hand on each side of his face. His eyes were red and puffy and still crying. Tear stains covered his face. Some hair stuck to his forehead from the sweat. Shou shook his head.

What a mess. He thought. Shou leaned in and closed his eyes. Ritsu did the same until their lips locked.

Their first kiss was messy as they both cried and tasted salt. Their noses bumped into each other and their teeth knocking. It wasn't the most cinematic thing Shou imagined it would be. But after everything, it was perfect to him. It tugged his heart in all the right places. Neither of them wanted to let go. But they still had to breathe. They leaned away as their aura mashed into one solid color.

Ritsu chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Shou asked as he held Ritsu's hand. Ritsu squeezed back affectionately.

"God, I was such a drama queen."

"Really?" Shou said sardonically.

"Shut up. You're not worth it." Ritsu looked away, blushing and with a smirk.

"Well, at least I know you love me now." Shou teased with his tongue sticking out.

"Heh, dork... I love you." Ritsu hushed. His legs tangled with Shou's as he laid his head against Shou's chest.

"So do you wanna meet the rest yet?" Shou asked.

"Gimme a sec, my head hurts and I didn't sleep..." Ritsu mumbled into his shirt. Shou hummed a response as he looked off into the distance. "Hey. Hey. Ritsu."

"I didn't mean that literally!" Ritsu said.

"No. Look at the distance." Ritsu looked up and turned to where he was staring. The sun was slowly rising up as it painted the city with hues of orange, and yellow, and red. He snuggled a bit closer to Shou. They both watched the city slowly come alive as people walked out of their houses and light started to turn on. It was a lovely view. Ritsu's eyes slowly became heavier and heavier. Shou looked down and saw Ritsu fast asleep. He embraced the esper once more, still staying levitated in the air.

-----

Once Ritsu and Shou arrived at Reigen's apartment, (they returned via bus. They got a lot of strange looks.) They were met with an onslaught of questions and hugs and tears.

"Where were you?! Where did you go?!" Shigeo asked Ritsu as he roughly gripped his shoulders. He had panicked the most as he began to wonder if he had done something crazy and impulsive. He was so close to barging out the open window and attempt to track him down.

"Also you look horrible!" Teruki commented.

"God and were you outside without shoes?!" Reigen cried in concern. "And don't think we forgot about you too, Suzuki!" He added with the tone of a scolding parent.

Teru tackled the redhead and pinned him to the ground. He started flailing and throwing random punches at him. Once he stopped, he lifted Shou and did those types of hugs where they would lock hands and pull each other into a hug with a lot of patting. Teru sneakily wiped his eyes to avoid his mascara running down his face.

Shigeo pulled Shou into a smothering embrace and he dug his face into Shou's hair. He sighed and ruffled whatever part of the elder brother he could reach. Once he pulled away, Shigeo was silent as shameless tears streamed down his face. It must have been the most emotion he's seen him show. Just as Shou was about to talk, he felt large arms wrap around his waist and lift him up.

"Hey! Put me down! What do I look like an animal?!" Shou cried.

"I mean..."

"Shut up, Teruki."

"Sorry, kid! Been saving my strength for this moment." Reigen shouted as he waved Shou around like a new pet. He pressed a soft kiss into the tangled hair. "Miss ya’ kid." Shou smiled at the most parental love he's received so far. Reigen placed the kid down and wiped a stray tear from his face.

"Guess we have a lot of explaining to do!" Shou said and placed his hands on his hips as he looked at Ritsu.

----

After they had all washed up and changed and treated Ritsu's wounds, they all huddled in the thick blanket on the couch as they held a bowl of cereal in their laps.

Ritsu explained how he saw Shou and impulsively followed his aura. He described how he found him and their reunion while leaving out some... details. But they got the picture as Teru nudged Ritsu and Shigeo glared at Shou in that protective manner. He looked away and started to sweat at the pressure. Reigen rolled his eyes.

----

Once Shou began talking, they all leaned in.

He was sent on a mission to take down the last remaining Claw branches and other related institutes such as labs or gathering areas. He went with other espers and even some former Claw members who had changed. They had to travel the world to do so. While whoever sent them on the mission funded the travel and any stays in a hotel, everything else was on them. He wasn't sure who had commissioned them to do so. They assumed it was a government branch wanting to clean up the Claw divisions quickly to avoid any public scrutiny.

Teru called Shou out at how come he didn't invite the rest of them to help.

He sighed and explained at how he was legally obligated to not tell people about the mission. Though, Shigeo easily rebutted that by listing all the laws he had previously broken. Shou had confessed that he didn't want his friends to get hurt even more by what his father had caused. He gripped the sheet before breathing in and out.

Shou retold that it was during his first battle that he had broken his cell phone and thus was unable to call them. Once he had gotten a new phone, he was told face to face by an official that he wasn't allowed to communicate with other people outside of the team he was assigned to. Then his phone was confiscated and he never got it back. Actually, all forms of communication with people outside the group was prohibited.

He was first sent to France with a few other people since he was one of the few fluent French speakers. It was actually because of his fluency in multiple languages that caused him to stay in the program longer. It was helpful for communication and translation. But once the program found no more use in a person, they were essentially shipped out and never heard of again.

"How did you get back here?" Reigen questioned.

"I have no idea. After I completed my final mission, which was to just destroy a lab and collect some stuff there, I was sent to an empty room and I had a bag placed over my head and I felt something poke my neck and I was knocked out. I woke up in a hotel bed with a complimentary gift basket and my stuff on the table which was weird. I checked outside and I was only a couple blocks away from the edge of Seasoning City. And so... Ta-da!" Shou gave them jazz hands. "Here we are!"

"Were you okay though? Like did they hurt you?" Shigeo questioned. Shou took another bite of his cereal.

"I was fine. They only poked me with a needle in the end, see?” Shou turned his head and moved his hair away to show a bandage with stars on it. Once he peeled it away, there was a small scar of a needle poke. He placed the bandage back on.

“There was little interaction between us and the people who were in charge. The most interaction we had was when we first assembled and they placed a tracker on us and when they said I couldn't talk to people outside. Even when we traveled, we were in a black plane that had no windows and we couldn’t even use our powers on it." Shou nonchalantly explained.

"I did make some friends there! The more connections, the better!" Shou exclaimed.

"So... Is Claw completely gone now?" Reigen asked. Shou took another bite.

"Like I said, once they found no more use for you, they kicked you out. I was there the longest out of my group. But only because of the languages I can speak and my connections to Claw. There could still be some remnants of it." Shou said through his cereal.

"Did they know about how you’re... y'know... his son?" Ritsu cautiously asked. Shou took another bite.

"I don't know. I don't know what they know. They could have some of the biggest dirt on me and I'm unaware. That's why I didn't want to get you guys involved. I don't know what they can or will do." Shou slurped the remaining milk and wiped his mouth.

"They seemed pretty sketchy, that's why." Shou finished as he stared at his empty bowl.

"Hey, Reigen. Can I get some more?" He asked and lifted his bowl. Reigen smiled and got up. He grabbed the bowl with shaky hands. Man, Shou has gone through too much.

"Instead... let's get something to eat. Y'know, to celebrate this little rascal returning home!" Reigen happily offered. "In fact, I'll call Serizawa to close up shop instead and to join us!" Reigen pulled his flip phone out of his pocket and called Serizawa.

"Hey, Katsu. Today's gonna be a day off... Yea... Meet us up at the restaurant I took you last time... Oh! 'Cause Suzuki's back!" Reigen immediately flinched and pulled his phone as far away from his ear as loud screaming and talking could be heard from the speaker. The rest of the kids laughed at Serizawa's reaction.

They all began to pack up and walk out the apartment door. The mess that was the apartment can be cleaned later. As they began to file out one by one, Ritsu and Shou stayed behind them. Their fingers brushing a bit before they held each other's hand. Ritsu turned to Shou and smiled. He could feel his face becoming warm.

"I'm glad you're back." Ritsu sweetly whispered. Shou gripped his hand tighter. He leaned in a pressed a light kiss on his cheek. Yep, now his cheeks were burning up. Ritsu hid his face into the hem of his sweater. Shou giggled and blushed a bit.

"I'm glad you have your shoes on." Shou joked. Ritsu gave the redhead a light shove in retaliation. They continued to walk behind the rest of them down the sidewalk, hand in hand, chatting about time they had lost.

----

#mob psycho 100 #mp100 #ritshou #ritsu kageyama #shou suzuki #shigeo kageyeama #teru hanazawa #reigen arataka #slappy writes #holy shit ive never worked this hard on a one shot wtf #jdgnjfnjignfu i hope people like this #o shit its been more than a year since i last posted a fic

[thegracegatsby]

this post is all over the place but here’s a super long update if you care lmao 

So it’s officially been one month since i’ve been on this marketing internship in Prague which is basically working a full time marketing job without the pay (duh, Grace) lol I really thought I was going to be filing papers and going on coffee runs, but nope this is the real deal. I didn’t even get a day to fix my jetlag nor was I eased into the job. The day after I arrived I had 15 minutes to learn about all the projects everyone was working on, got acquainted with the office and the other interns, then started on all my tasks. To give you an idea of what I’ve been up to, my first week here I had to think of several marketing ideas for a local company and had to present them to the owner. The Stress and nerves had me on bed rest that weekend ngl lol. The owner loved the presentation, but I couldn’t help but be so hard on myself. I felt so underprepared I didn’t expect to be thrown into the field at full speed. I literally felt like the Mr. Krabs meme. I was shookington. I thought college and a regular part time job was hectic, but wow I was not prepared for job that required 110% of my time and mind. What I mean by that is I was/am technically working on four different projects and each of them need to be unique aka I can’t repeat ideas. I learned to trust myself and just trust that if I did my best…. it would just had to be enough. I can only learn from my mistakes and find a way to improve myself every day. Those “do one thing to be better than yesterday” quotes were always cute, but they have been extremely relevant this summer. That’s been such an important lesson and habit. Some other things I was up to is sometimes the company gets invited to special private events so so far I’ve attended two events. The first one being some networking event with a panel so different CEO’s discussed the future of tech & marketing and answered questions, then another event where the communications director of Manolo (shoe goals) spoke on the brand. Even got to meet her she was so sweet! Last week I got sent on my first official business trip to Poland to meet with different Korean companies at an expo! I had to basically see and negotiate potential products to market in the US and Latin America. Crazy. I loved every second of it. I’ve been meaning to write for a few weeks now so my thoughts are probably a little all over the place, but now is when I feel like I finally have the time and energy to sit down and catch up on a blog even if no one reads this lmaoo. It’s wild how a month and a half ago I left my job at the bank with a heavy heart and had my summer classes get cancelled/wasn’t able to register for any new one’s since they were all full. I was so close to doing nothing all summer except go job hunting again so this trip was such a blessing. It’s super challenging I’m not gonna lie. I feel like I’ve grown so much from being here. I’ve had to get out of my comfort zone in every single sense of the word. I’ve had to depend on myself mentally and emotionally in different ways than I’ve had to back home. I know this sounds super dramatic lol, but honestly this is the first time I’ve been away from my home, family, friends, city, for more than two weeks. Taking such a huge step without my family around has been difficult. It’s how I imagine it would have been like if I moved away for college. I’m going through “real life with training wheels” because I’m staying with family here so I’m not 100% on my own, but that’s the farthest thing from perfect. Like.. my extended family is going through some hell shit and I feel like I’m in the middle of it so I can’t escape it. I guess that’s where my desperate homesickness comes from. I was SO ready to go home I even asked if I could book a flight after TWO weeks of being here. That’s how desperate I was to go back home. I never talk about my personal life, but I will say that my actual home life, thankfully, is healthy. No relationship/family is perfect don’t get it twisted, but my parents learned from the mistakes of their families/friends and tried very hard to raise my sibling and I in a peaceful home. Don’t take this as the “I’m the best because my parents don’t hate each other can’t relate sweetie (: just be happy and drink tea” way because that’s not what I’m saying at all lol. Sadly, toxic families are everywhere, but reading/hearing about a household that is going through a nasty divorce with unhealthy drama happening every single day is completely different than actually experiencing/witnessing it with my own two naked eye balls. Especially from my own relative. I know this makes me sound immature or naive or whatever, but I mean… I’ve never lived anywhere else so I never knew anything other than my own family dynamic ya know? My empathy for children and teenagers who have to go through what I’ve been seeing on a daily basis has grown so much. Again, this isn’t a show off way of me saying “my life is semi-perfect” (no one’s is) I’m literally saying the change has helped me understand and appreciate the importance of a healthy home so much which… isn’t a bad thing. I’d rather learn this now seeing it from afar than with regret later on in my life. I’m genuinely so heartbroken and empathetic for every single person going through this much toxicity especially my own cousin who will have to grow up with the issues her parents are making alone. The biggest takeaway is I know what the fuck NOT to tolerate in relationships. If I thought my tolerance was low, now it’s even lower I’m not putting up with any bullshit ever wow. Now none of this would matter if I only got to work then go home and mind my business, but nah it’s not like that. An argument happened? Guess who gets some insults and bad attitude. Me. Since why did my extended family think it’s okay to disrespect and insult me for everything??? Don’t even get me started on the side comments about my weight :)) All I do is try to stay hydrated and mind my business! lmaofdnsfds. I guess that’s where the mental and emotional challenge comes from. I’ve never been a super emotional person literally the last time I cried from emotion was the day of the musical in high school because I messed up on stage and was super embarrassed. That was literally 4 years ago in April. I’ve had like two mental breakdowns already not including the countless times I’ve had to calm myself down, do some breathing exercises, and mentally try to disconnect from the fuckery. The hardest times being when I’m in public. I NEVER talk back tho which is weird because I hardly ever bite my tongue I’m quick to defend myself, but deep down I know the aggression stems from all these problems.. plus I try to tell myself it’s not that deep and I’m leaving in less than a month. I know I won’t have to deal with this ever ever again. Also honestly staying quiet gets everyone on my side because people see the way I’m spoken to and are like “wtf ignore it you’re doing great”. Lol I wish I could go into more detail because there is SO much tea I can spill, but for privacy (and maybe legal idk?) reasons I’m going to stay quiet. Another intern who started seeing the verbal abuse asked me about everything so I confided in her about all the drama and she’s like “wooow everything makes sense things were worse when before you got here” kjndvdf we were super tight it was so great :’) but she left and everything changed when the fire nation attacked. Honestly, everyone I work/have worked with have been so great. I only got close with like two or three tho but still everyone is so nice lol. So yeah even though the work experience here is amazing and something I will value for the rest of my life, the home life aspect is fucked up. I’m even trying to convince my parents to sell this plot to Lifetime lmao it’s THAT dramatic. *sigh* Some other news is I was supposed to be in Spain right now. I literally Uber’ed myself and my grandmother all the way to the airport yesterday morning, show up to the check-in counter with a smile and bags in hand just so they could tell me “Sorry, you don’t show up on our system” to my face. I’ve never had an issue with my flight so the room was spinning a lil and was low key panicking because 1. English isn’t anyone’s first language here 2. I was abroad and had no idea what to do because I didn’t even make the reservation so I had to call two different airlines and try to resolve the MESS, but nothing was resolved they fucked up my booking from the beginning so only my return flight was paid for not the departure :) so after easily deciding I was NOT going to pay $580 for a one-way outbound ticket, I had to quickly figure out my next move. (PRO TIP: ALWAYS BOOK DIRECTLY WITH COMPANIES THEY’LL WORK WITH YOU AND REFUND YOU IF SOMETHING GOES WRONG. EVEN IF YOU SEE A CHEAPER PRICE ON ONE OF THOSE TRAVEL SITES SOMEONE TOLD ME THEY’LL PRICE MATCH YOU AND EVEN GIVE YOU DIFFERENT FLIGHT ACCOMMODATIONS LIKE CHANGING LAYOVER FLIGHTS IT’S MAGICAL). Everyone I’m living with went to Spain the day before, so after bending over backwards to try and get the house key from my grandmother who already passed through security (she couldn’t wait for me bc the guy at security had 5 min to wheelchair her to her gate), I found a way to contact her (a blessing bc if not I would have had to stay at a hotel or something) and had her hand me the keys back to our place. I didn’t have the patience to take a bus back to the city so I paid the extra fare to Uber back home. The weird part is I’m not even mad. After calling the airlines, contacting my parents, contacting my family already in Spain that I wouldn’t be going, I was just… chilling. Got some groceries and I’ve been living la vida loca just eating and watching netflix lol. Sure, I wanted to go see a new country and even try to see the town my great grandparents were from, but if there’s anything I learned this year is… everything happens for a reason. I think it would have been an amazing trip, but there’s a reason I didn’t get to travel this weekend. Theres a reason I had to leave my job at the bank. Theres a reason I’m here in Prague in the first place. There’s a reason I’m witnessing this entire Mess. I guess there’s some growth in that too you know what I mean? Younger me would have probably combusted in hatred and be extremely negative and complain that “my life sucks” when in reality it’s fine it��s just in general, shitty things happen…. but life won’t stop for anybody not even me. On the bright side, some good lessons came out of this experience. Forget 2016, this was the real year of realizing things™. I’m going back to Miami with a completely different drive and mindset. For example, I knew school is important and I get good grades, but my attitude towards my education is COMPLETELY different now. Being “good” just isn’t good enough for me anymore. With my grades now I could get into a “good” grad school, but now I don’t even want “good” I want something better. I want great I want the best I want to work my ass off to get into an AMAZING school. I still don’t know everything or even want I want 100%, but this trip has helped me change how I plan to approach/execute my future goals. That “oh I guess I’ll work someday idk that’s a long time from now so I don’t care I’ll worry about it another day” won’t cut it anymore. Now that I’m thinking about it, a lot of things need changing when I get back. Which speaking of getting back, I’m counting down the days I’m so excited I leave at the end of the month ayee!! Lol okay I feel like I’m just rambling at this point. There were a few more things I wanted to say buut………… I forgot it so I’ll just end it here and make a new post if I remember lol. Even if no one reads this, future me will and she’ll remember how the Ctrl album from SZA was playing in the background while writing this and probably cringe at how bittersweet this whole experience/year has been.

TLDR I learned a lot on this internship (good and bad) and I’m basically going back home a new person :-)

#even tho i didn't mention everything in this post i'm only talking about this summer internship.. #i've changed so much this year. I've really grown tf up I don't even recognize January me anymore lol