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iznsfw · 7 months

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Senior Year Isn’t the Only Thing That’s Hard

Momoland's Nancy McDonie x Jeon Somi x Male Reader Smut

20,859 words

Categories | popular!Nancy and Somi, threesome, blowjob, titjob, anal, spanking, fluff, also if you get the reference(s) I love you

Thank you for commissioning! Was tough to find time to write during exam season but fuck it we ball.

Stars in the sky, stars in their eyes—they’re truly something else. Shouldn’t they be up there themselves? They glimmer too bright to be left here on earth, with a guy like you who can’t hold a flame to them.

But maybe you’re one yourself. Stars only ever mingle with their own kind. So there's the possibility that the three of you are stardust, simmered onto this world to shine in other places where they need it. It’s a laughable way to put it, almost cliche. But when you look at them, you realize you’re not far off.

See here: you're young. It's too early to worry about reputation—(oh, what a word, by the way, with its promise of faint or fail)—but a great, great place to start.

You didn't know about that second part until you met Somi and Nancy.

First, picture this: your story is a movie, the rare one where the male character is the lead of the story although—let's face it—it's them everyone's reading this for. Not you, not your style, not nada and zip. Everyone is and always will be here for them:

Jeon Somi and Nancy McDonie. They're teen royalty. Only a few students ever get to say they held that title. Not that it's of any importance later in life but what matters more than the present? The juniors look at them green with envy, and with the seniors, the ones who are all proud in their recent age of adulthood, either like them but hate to say it and "hate" them but like them too much to say it. It's that simple. It’s that complicated, too, at the same time.

And, admittedly, it’s… a lot to take in.

Strangely, you're not in either of those categories despite being a senior yourself. The difference is that you like them, and aren't afraid to say it. After all, you owe them a lot for helping you get out of your shell.

Well, not at first. But that’s how it works, right? You, Somi, and Nancy don’t immediately become friends right from the get-go. There has to be some kind of story behind it, and you’re willing to tell yours.

It all started… well, like this:

You enrolled into a new school sometime after your eighteenth or nineteenth birthday. Yep, you really couldn’t remember. It’s all been in a flash with them, makes you feel a little dumb. All you know was it was the worst present to have: being required to join an institution that was as unfamiliar as it was unwanted. Like, fucking hell—this early? You were just a kid! Well, not anymore, but there had to be some kind of consideration for this, right? An exception that could be made?

Unfortunately, signing up for a new school was not a subject up for debate. It wasn’t something you could bargain yourself out of. No promises to be good, no extra chores, nothing. Your parents were firm on deciding that you were in need of a fresh new start.

And it just sort of happened that this clean slate you had? You ruined it completely.

Oh, it was classic teenage rebellion. You did almost everything you could to buy your way out of circumstances that didn't go how you wanted them to. You wouldn't say it was totally uncalled for. You had friends at your old school you thought you'd forever be with—the way you saw it, no one could just pull that away from you.

Alas, here you were. You'd been in this classroom more times than you could remember. Neither you nor the presidents spoke. No one was willing to break the ice.

Finally, sun melted the cold and replaced the winter with a fiery, hot summer. "You again?" Nancy McDonie leaned on the edge of the teacher's desk. Her expression was that of someone who's going through a cruel cycle of same-shit-different-day. You knew what that's all about. "I swear, we see you here every Tuesday."

And what a privilege that was. Sarcasm? A little.

"Oh?" you said. You did your own leaning on the backrest of the chair and put your arms behind your head. "Well, it's not like I enjoy it here."

Maybe you did. Maybe you didn’t. To be truthful, you didn’t know either at the time, so… well—you’re left involved in another banter with the two leaders of the student government. You didn’t see why you had to be sent to them every time you did something even just the littlest bit of wrong, but here you were. This was routine already. As everyday and usual as brushing your teeth and showering.

Nancy squinted her eyes at you, and you stared right back unnervingly. Neither of you were going to give up a silent fight like that.

"If you did," Jeon Somi quipped, beside her best friend with her hands on her own hips, "we'd understand. I mean, look at us."

She didn't have to remind you. Both girls were prettier than they should be. ‘Cause look here for a minute: Nancy's got this long caramel hair going on for her, and it extends long beyond her shoulder blades, framing her amazing curves and slim arms. She's the push to Somi's pull—Nancy is the calmer one, the girl who takes things more seriously.

To be fair, Somi does her own taking, too. Just not in the same way. She's blonder, bustier, more extroverted. She walks life with an unrestrained laugh unfit for such a gorgeous girl and feet clad with platform school shoes that always carry her in paces around the classroom. She's kind enough to cast a blind eye on some of your offenses, but too princess-y to keep her words about herself humble.

You say these in present tense because later on, when the circumstances change and so do the seasons, you'd find out that's truly who they are. Your relationship would change but they wouldn't. They're still the same Somi and Nancy who are always glued to each other, always giggling, always the it girls, always the most popular girls in school.

One day, the punishment for your routine offenses would be death caused by them, and even that you'd welcome. Oh, just imagine…

"Let me guess." The brunette girl tapped her finger on the desk surface. Lucky piece of wood. "You didn't pay the treasurer again?"

You sighed and fiddled with your pencil. Scratches from the pointed led were imprinted on the olden table attached to the seat. You bit back a remark about how the class treasurer was as corrupt as a politician withering away with the hope the graft charges would, too. "Wrong," you said, steadily. "I accidentally spray-painted miss Seo during arts.”

Your truth was met with silence.

“She looked like she came out of a unicorn's asshole," you helpfully added.

You remembered it like it was yesterday. Ah, well, of course you did—it was impossible to forget when it happened fifty fucking minutes ago. Yes, you counted down, because the surprise that took over you when you squeezed the nozzle of the can on a teacher you didn’t even know was behind you was everything to remember. Every color of the rainbow was soaking her dress pants and blouse, making her become the personification of a lively Pride parade.

(You didn’t leave that detail out for your poor victim not to hear, when you said: “Gay rights, anybody?”

Looking back, that was prooobably what got you into another meeting with the girls. The teachers had some real strange beliefs.)

Somi snorted, then started to laugh boisterously, so much that her body rocked downwards. To be fair, it started out as a small chuckle. Things went from this to that and suddenly it worked itself into a full cackle.

She slapped Nancy on the shoulder and shook her head. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she apologized; (it was useless), “but that shit’s so… fffucking—”

"It's not funny, Somi," Nancy said with a more solid voice than that of her friend’s. "Hey. Hey, it's not funny!"

“Just think about it, babe.” Somi, still snickering, tried to put some sense in her, tried to make her see what made it so funny. “Think of the gay flag. Now—listen—imagine it as mean old miss Seo. You see where I’m going?”

“Still not funny.”

"C'mon, prez," you told the unconvinced girl. You flung your hands in the air nonchalantly. "Live a little."

"Yeah, Nance," echoed Somi cheerfully, poking her best friend’s cheek. She was the only one who could ever do that to her. Any other person and they’d be found dead in a ditch alongside their reputation. And god, did it matter a lot to young’uns like you. "Live a little."

"Don't call me that.”

Somi shut her mouth. From what you noticed, she was the lesser contained of the two of them. She spoke with a sailor’s mouth that had the accent and vocabulary of a valley girl. Kind of true—she was filthy rich. You saw her parents during the senior acquaintance party and it wasn’t that hard to figure out she was wealthy when you saw her father slip her her allowance. Also, her mother was dressed in the best and latest trends, looking younger than she really was with how she held herself. Only rich people and really exemplary actresses could pull that off.

"And what was your offense the previous week?" Nancy went on. She was leaning forward now, unintentionally offering you the best view a horny senior could wish for: her bust struggling to be held inside her uniform blouse.

A distraction, that's what it was. Oh, fuck, now Somi was doing it, too. Both girls are busty, full breasts begging to be freed from fabric. You should have really requested undressing them as your punishment, but it was clear that it was probably what they wanted and this was simply to coerce answers from you, unintentional or not.

They still held their dynamics, even when they’re forcing words out of you. They went hand in hand, pairing up together like they were born to be friends: the angel that was Nancy, and the little devil Somi was; good cop (in a way) Somi, and bad cop Nancy.

You weren’t gonna say their methods didn’t work. You gulped. Since when did you sound like a shitty literotica author with two sales? "I started a food fight in the cafeteria."

"And the previous week?"

"I tripped mister Brown in the hallway because he failed me."

"And the week before that?"

"I started a campaign that Photoshopped Shrek onto teachers' faces."

Silence, as if all the world were a show that liked to take several beats.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” asked Nancy finally.

“You do,” you said. “You don’t think I can see you smiling?” There was something in her face that told you that hatred for you was not all there was to it. Something about the uplifted motion at the left end of her lips. Somi was barely hiding it with the giggles she was making.

“Don’t flatter yourself, dickhead.”

“Oooh, nice one for a first swear word.” You threw the pencil away and folded your hands together. Leaned forward, too, because if they were showing off their cleavages like that, you might as well do the same. “Got anything else for me?”

You promised you weren’t always this petty. These weekly meetings with the presidents just tired you out. It wasn’t your fault you were like this. It could all be traced back to your parents’ nth mistake: sending you off to this shithole of a school. For fuck’s sake, this wasn’t even where you envisioned yourself to be five years ago, when your teachers made you draw a visionary of yourself on white bond paper. Far from it, if you looked past your shitty skills at sketching.

“Detention, maybe,” Somi said helpfully after swallowing the last pieces of her laughs. “And a suspension.”

“Oh god.” You rolled your eyes. “Please, not you, too.”

“Yep. Real scary stuff, huh?” She smiled, raising her hands in claws before firing you a wink. Your breath shortened just for a while. Only just. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to go through all that if you behave.”

You smiled back. “Like a good boy?”

But there was your heart slipping into a knot as you said it. Joke-filled lines you exchanged with the girls were difficult not to stay upon when your hormonal brain kept each one dirty.

The two girls looked at each other for a moment. Then, they smiled. That was a rare one from Nancy. Somi, however, boasted her shining simper as she took a few steps forward to pat you on the shoulder.

"You're alright, newbie," was all she said. "You're alright."

A few months—

(Well, you could say it took fewer than that. Within a timespan of what seemed like seconds, Somi had you wrapped around the long hem of her ballroom gown. But she didn’t drag you around for long; she treated you like a fellow royal, helping you out with math though she had little time and greeting you in the hallways and therefore drawing looks, because why was the Jeon Somi talking to some random new kid? But attention was what came with being Somi and slash or being part of her life. It’s time you got used to it.)

—and a lot of bickering later—

(“You are the biggest dumbass I’ve ever met,” said Somi, fingers massaging her temple. “Who in goddess’ name doesn’t know dodos are extinct?”

You flipped the teacher’s copy shut. “Normal people,” was your answer to her, as you brooded over social studies homework at the library.

“Shhhh!” the librarian, with her stereotypical glasses and graying hair, hissed at you from her desk. After a hateful glare, she was returning to her telenovela, which you argued was louder than your hushed conversation with your new friend.

Friend? What could you call this thing you had with Somi? She liked you, but that didn’t mean she was your friend or you were hers. You could like a modern abstract painting at the gallery and still not buy it. Maybe that was how she looked at you.

“The dodo is dead-o,” Somi said seriously. She looked at you with an equally resolute glare.

“The dodo is dead-o,” you repeated. You could remember that.

“You’re so lying, did they never teach you that at your old school? Like at all?”

“Well I’m sorry I don’t spend time thinking if a stupid bird is alive or not.”

“See?” She raised her voice so that the poor juniors in the cluster behind you had to hear. “This, my friends, is what’s wrong in our society! Eighteen-year-olds in this prominent day and age are all like ‘I dunno what a dodo is!’!”

“For fuck’s sake, they’re all dead!” you yelled before the librarian could scold you again. “They won’t fucking care!”)

—things began to change.

She did say you were alright. You still had discourse over birds but in her eyes, you convinced yourself eventually you were alright.

It wasn’t the case for Nancy. That smile she made back in that classroom apparently meant nothing. You were amusing to her, but that’s everything to it. Nothing more, nothing less. You were entertaining in a way a clown at a children’s party was: no one particularly cared about it days after.

“He’s tagging along?” she said. She looked you up and down suspiciously, as a guard would at an airport, then turned to Somi. “Somi, I thought we agreed on no boys on trips.”

And it—

… hurt you?

Not only that made you feel out of place, but the visible fact that both girls were dressed like they were about to go to a gala. They were both in skirts, wearing layers that vested upon expensive blouses and coats that even from miles away would look good. You, of course, were excluded in your simple tee and shorts. It was as if you didn’t even try to look presentable.

“Consider me one of the girls,” you said. You hoped that quick reply was witty enough, because if not, you were doomed. You already had a bad enough poor position to deal with. See? You weren’t lying when you said you didn’t want it.

And it wasn’t like going to the mall with them was something you wanted either. Somi texted you one day, having found your number through means that were probably illegal but were given a blind eye because oh look she’s Jeon Somi, and asked, hey, wanna come to the mall w me?

Looking back, that message had a lot of undertones.

You didn’t know Nancy was coming along, but you should have known that when the two girls were always together. Hoping that she would come along was what you did, and perhaps one of the reasons why you wanted to go (wait, you wanted to go? But didn’t you— never mind). Now that she had expressed clear distaste for your presence, you felt like an outcast again.

You didn’t want to go back to those days.

Somi nodded enthusiastically. Well, at least someone was happy to have you around. She was the first one to warm up to you, and you could say that you were friends with her now. Something told you she was okay with that. “Yeah, Nance! I promise he’s gonna be good, like super duper good. Just think that he’s Mina.”

“Don’t call me that. Oh, and remember what we did to Mina?”

Everybody knew Kang Mina although she graduated a long time ago. She was a loner at first, but pretty. She didn’t know that she was beautiful, of course, not until she became friends with Somi and Nancy and suddenly—

“Oh no,” you said. You put up your hands. “No, no, no, no, no. You are not—”

“Giving you a makeover?” Nancy smirked, that being the first time of the day that she gave signs of a living smile. “Yeah, we are.”

The salon was right up ahead after the pavilion. You took a single look at it and saw its pink, glamoring state along with the hairdos it advertised, and knew that you were wholly, indefinitely, and irreparably fucked.

“God, what’re you gonna do to me?” you groaned as you were shoved into a disgustingly pink seat, accompanied by strange looks from strangers whose strangeness in their colored hairs and phrases shouldn’t give them any right to look at you like that. Masculinity this, masculinity that—but come on. It was… what year was it again?

“Hey, Jessa!” Somi called out loudly. Jessa was a plump, sweet woman with bayonetta glasses that made her slits for eyes look even smaller. “Make him look like everything.”

“Yeah!” Nancy actually looked enthusiastic. You tried not to curl up into a snail-like position when she brushed her fingers through your hair. “Like a dreamboat, that kind.”

Jessa smiled. “You two are always in some sort of BS, aren’t you?” Fondness graced her elderly tone. It was clear the two girls were frequent visitors.

She swiftly curled the chair into the vanity table’s direction. Your reflection in the star-studded mirror made you wince. You had cysts in all the inconvenient places, a bread crumb at the side of your mouth from the breakfast you had at that niche cafe, everything. Even Jessa looked like royalty compared to you. What more next to Somi and Nancy, whose skirted long legs towered over you and reminded you that they always held the better deck, the better position?

“Call us the Bullshitter Bitches, then!” Somi began to tap dance on her heels. It was her hidden talent. Well, it wasn’t really hard to tap dance when she had those long legs. “‘We’re the Bullshitter Bitches / We shit on snitch—”

“Somi, that’s disgusting,” Nancy snapped sourly. She clicked a haircut apron around your neck. Great. Now you looked like a goddamned infant who’s growing up with a princess complex.

“Sorry.”

“Just so you know,” you said, as Jessa snipped away at your head, “I’m not paying for this. I don’t need a makeover.”

“‘Course you aren’t. It’s all on the house.”

Brushes swished on your face, hiding the beginning foundations of new hormonal pimples and blackheads. They hid away your imperfections with just one slide. You never saw them as such, not until you got into senior high and therefore compared yourself to the bigger guys, the cooler guys. The ones whose sweat wrung from their hair but still looked attractive enough to get the girls. Maybe this was what you needed. You were gonna have to think twice about the whole operation.

“Makeup?” you asked warily. Not that you were against it. but you never really tried it on before.

Somi’s hand made an L-shaped gesture and branded itself in front of her forehead. “Boo, come on, it’s the big year of”—redacted, with an exclamation at the end. Nobody needed to know when this happened. The time will come when everything will reveal itself. She painted powder that almost matched the shade of your skin and hued it on your cheeks and neck. “Who said guys can’t wear makeup?”

“Makeup is for everybody,” chirped Jessa in agreement. “And that’s right, sweetie, you don’t need a makeover. Just a touch up. And everyone gets them, even handsome guys like you.”

Nobody had ever called you handsome. The last time it ever happened was when your mother buttoned your polo for preschool. It’s flattery, you knew, but your chest still felt as if it were knotted.

“Ain’t that right,” Nancy stooped to your level and brushed your nose with the tip of her finger—her soft smile was gripping, “new boy.”

Another one, and a roundness at the edge(?) of your throat you couldn’t swallow. Your Adam’s apple bobbed yet it was useless at downing it.

You had to look away. Did she just agree that you were good-looking? You knew Somi thought that, too, but this was Nancy. Nancy McDonie, the girl who didn’t care for you much and didn’t want you here.

She still didn’t like you. But maybe that would change.

(Spoiler alert: it did. That’s how the story went.)

You wondered how rich they actually were to pay Jessa to be so committed to making you look your best. Your hair was purple for a few minutes (“Fuck no!” you shouted) and was easily returned to the black with a quick dye. Then she gelled it in so many directions that you’d think your blunt mane was a car being controlled by an overexcited student driver. That was already thousands of won by itself. But it went on without stopping, and Somi and Nancy still weren’t satisfied.

“I’m telling you, Somi,” said the brunette girl, twirling your chair to the mirror again, “he looks good with that slicked back do!”

“Be serious with me.” Somi blew-dried your hair and ran her hand along your whiffed locks. “Grody as hell. Doesn’t he look like 90s’ Brendan Fraser?”

“He does,” Jessa said. She returned with tools that looked so unfamiliar to you that they might as well be surgeon’s supplies. Fuck, were they gonna take out your liver after all that trouble?

“Ha! See?”

“He has some nice eyebrows. Just needs a little trimming and he’s good to go.”

“Thank god,” you said. They all looked at you as if surprised to remember you weren’t a doll to practice hairstyling on. Your scalp already ached royally. “I need to get out of here.”

Nancy shook her head. “Nuh-uh. You’re not going anywhere, new boy. You’re ours for today.”

You gulped. God, okay. You were good with that.

A light edged metal ran along the ends of your brows. You were afraid they were going to make you look like Megan Fox in Jennifer’s Body, but it actually turned out alright.

After all the ruckus, you were there, staring at your reflection.You could pass for a guy richer than you actually were, cooler than you actually were. Your eyebrows were cleanly trimmed, in a steady and one-way direction, and your hair was cut yet splayed in a way that made you actually look flattering. Then you had your cheeks to look at, which were clear of any of your open pores and pimples. You looked like what they told you would: everything.

“I… I’m one of the girls now,” you said out of the blue. It was like a moment of truth for you.

“Yes you are,” Somi said proudly. “Now can we go get some ice cream?”

Nancy glanced at the clothing shop a few blocks down the tiled path and shook her head. Nope. Not a chance in any galaxy.

It was also later on, when you saw yourself in clothes from brands you never dreamed of buying, you knew that this thing you had with the presidents would go on forever, an eternity that would last long after—

Senior year, your golden age.

"Hey, hotshot," a clear voice says into your ear. She's on the phone with you yet her voice is loud enough for it to be easily assumed that she's physically present. "Up to see me after class?"

That's Somi, by the way. Yep, the leader of the student body who sanctioned you years ago. She's a real life Korean-Canadian doll. She'd be the stereotypical one, the face and brand—she's tall and slender, owning the hallways like she was the first step to ever be made in them. Blonde, too. You've met her years before and not once have you seen her natural color replace her dyed yellow.

The thing about her is that she's always just that shameless and energetic. She has one default personality and that is extroverted.

She's also naturally flirtatious, and you know it doesn't mean anything else when she calls you derogatory names in sweet tones but you remain attached to her. We’ll just keep it at that.

"Aren't we meeting in social studies?" you chuckle. This girl can't get enough of being around people. Around you, to be more specific. But that's what friends do.

"Not enough, obvi.”

“Right.”

“Is Nancy coming, too?"

"I think so."

"Darn it. I was hoping to…."

You raise your brows in suspicion. "What?"

"Nothing. I said we're meeting up."

Let out a soft chuckle. "I didn't say yes," you inform her, just in case she forgot.

"And I didn't say that what you think about it matters, butthead. You know you want to see me. Tata!"

And it ends off with that. Click.

Your smile is wide. That's Somi for you: a brat at heart, always getting what she wants one way or another, with a vocabulary that matches that of a spoiled heiress. Maybe she is one? You don't know but the branded clothes she often wears to school are getting a little suspicious. Among other things.

The locker space is packed with students, both juniors and seniors, male and female. They see you and start whispering among themselves. Some even make way. That wouldn't have been possible in your first year, but then Somi and Nancy happened. They made you the way you were. They made you a centerpiece. Do you like it? Admittedly, it strokes your ego well on some days.

Where's your locker key again? There it is. Click it into the padlock and swing the door open. Notes and trinkets from your two best friends are stuck to its walls. They said it was "for motivation." You let them believe that because it's true. Seeing Somi's wild happy calligraphy on the sticky note “Yep :) totally got it - Jeon <3”, compared to Nancy's more contained handwriting “Let’s get going!!!” always brightens your day.

Collect your social studies book as well as the mathematics one for the next period. Shut it, and a figure suddenly appears next to you.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Nancy!"

Oh yeah, that's how the scene opens to introduce the present Nancy McDonie. She's the brunette and calmer duplicate of Somi, but with an equally amazing body—

You won't go there.

She has one arm pinned to the neighboring locker door and a small smile. "Language, handsome," she chides, patting your shoulder. "It's just me."

Oh, and the less sarcastic counterpart as well. Nancy calls you sweet pet names and means them.

She’s grown fonder of you over the years. Nancy hates hard, but when she loves, she loves just as much. You’ve become so much better as a person and a newfound friend that she’s got no other choice but to keep you under her wing.

So, it could be argued that she loves you.

Never the same way you do, like you started to right from the very beginning, when unfamiliarity stepped between you and kept your hearts away from each other.

"Hey there," you say, clutching your chest. It’s just Nancy, your other half. You've been friends with her a little after your makeover. Quite a long time, if you do say so yourself; it seems to have happened so long ago. Long enough to have you become one of the girls.

It's not derogatory, like other boys would think. Being friends with the girls is more fun than hanging out with the vulgar rebels from your old school. For what it's worth, being one of Somi's and Nancy's is a huge compliment. Not everybody could say they were friends with the popular kids.

Gulp. It’s so hard to act normal in front of her when she’s naturally charming, and her uniform’s made to hug every bit of her curves, including her exceptional ass. You’ve come to terms with the fact that you’re strongly and sexually attracted to her a long time ago, but it still proves to be a challenge not to stare.

Besides, she trusts you. You’re her best friend. If you make a move on her, everybody would know and ruin your life for it, even if you’re fairly popular yourself. You’d be surprised by how quick people turn against others.

You’re not going to lie: she’s gorgeous, and the last thing that would be able to scare you is her beautiful face, but she can’t just show up like that out of the blue. That little pet name gets your gears going though. Your spirits are already afloat.

"Hey." She pats you on the head and peeks at the schedule taped to your locker. "Oh, you got social studies, too?"

"Y-you got that right."

"With Somi?"

"Yeah, sure. So?"

Nancy, sweet as a lollipop, shakes her head cheerfully. "Nothing," she says. "I guess I'll see you there."

"See ya there."

Offer her a two-finger salute and walk as quickly as you could although you're leaving with her. It's strange how she has your heart all bunched up when she shows up. She's pretty, yeah, but there's a certain aura about her calm demeanor that captures your stomach and keeps it tight. You hope no one gets you wrong—you like Somi, too, but Nancy has you wrapped around her little finger. She could tell you to jump off a cliff and you’d rush to buy out parachute stores.

And you’re staring at her as you switch classrooms. Your eyes are locked to her smile, her every move, her charm. Nancy was the last person you thought you’d ever be in love with—after all, she was the one who gave you sanction after sanction whenever you showed up at her classroom. Somi’s the one who went gentle with you, right?

But things happen. Plus, in a way, she’s changed you for the better.

Your style wasn’t the only thing they made over. They helped you with your studies, your personal problems, and everything they could. Your grades went up, much to the surprise of your teachers, and you stopped your troublemaking. That was also to the surprise of your educators, but also relief. You couldn’t be more grateful. It was comforting to find new friends in a place so new. And from the girls you least expected, too.

Nancy looks at you twice, then laughs. “Why are you looking at me like you’re in love with me or something?” she says, slapping the back of your head.

Well, what do you know? She’s not far off. You could say that you’re in love.

Just the tiniest, most speckling bit in love.

“Maybe I am.”

“Stud,” Nancy says under her breath.

She wouldn’t have dared say that in a nicer tone years ago.

The roll of her gorgeous eyes has you thinking of a scenario where it’s caused by something other than your flirtatious remarks. It would start with a flirtatious remark, then evolve into something more. Something beyond that.

Abstain from that thought. Instead, you gasp as if you belonged to the theater club with Jiwoo. “Did you just call me a slut?” you ask her. Raise your voice higher. You really hang out with Somi too much. “Everyone! Nancy McDonie just slutshamed me! I repeat, president Nancy McDonie just slut—”

A rough shove to your shoulder that neither you or Nancy expected blocks your words before they create controversy. Blonde fills your eyes as its Rapunzel owner says, “Get out of my way, creep.”

It’s such a low snarl that it alarms you. What made you a creep? Do you have to fight?

When you look up, you see that it’s no other girl than Somi. Despite what she said, she wears a cheeky, large smile. Return the grin and make it as Somi-like as possible; right, how could you forget the thing you and she have going on?

“Maybe you should watch where you’re going,” you say, crossing your arms in faux annoyance. Yeah, you really should have tried out for that play. You could make it big as an actor.

“Oh yeah?” Somi looks you up and down. Is that bite on her lip also part of the act? “Why should I? I don’t even know your name.”

“I don’t know yours either. Is it ‘bottle blonde’?”

“Shut the fuck up. 2008 called and said they wanted their My Chemical Romance hairdo back.”

Nancy covers her face embarrassedly. She’s too proud to join the joke you and Somi have, so she’s left having to deal with the unnecessary attention your fake fights warrant. It happens almost twice every other day and people still look on to find out what’s happening. It’s what amuses you and her blonde counterpart. She and Somi are alike in many ways, all except the latter’s thirst for childish fun.

“Madams. Sir,” the teacher says. She’s miss Kim Sejeong, your social studies teacher whom you swear has been here before you were even born. The university students and graduates who’ve found their tune visit often and talk about her fondly, yet despite their ages ranging, she looks like she isn’t more than twenty-three years old. Her gaze is stern yet amused. “Do you plan on getting in? The air-conditioner’s expensive.”

While Nancy blushes in humiliation, the class erupts into giggles, and you and Somi can’t help but do the same. Each repetition of your rivalry routine is funnier than the previous one. It might be corny, especially to the other students who despise you for no reason, but it keeps your friendship solid. And what’s a better friendship than one with a few inside jokes? A strange routine?

It’s an unspoken and universal law in every classroom that even if there isn’t any official seating arrangement as to who’s sitting next to who, you still choose the ones you first sat at the beginning of the year. You’re a proud follower of that rule, and that’s why you’ve been sitting here in the front of the class with Somi and Nancy for ages. You have a secret stenciled artwork under this specific chair with an equation of your trio’s initials. It would mark long after you’ve graduated and went to pass on that you three were once best friends, and nothing could change that.

Somi leans against your arm before turning her head to glare at you. “‘Bottle Blonde,’ huh?” she says spitefully.

“Not as bad as ‘My Chemical Romance,’” you reply. That one stung a little. Does your hair really need a cut?

“Fuck you. I don’t fucking care what you say, I’ll be a blondie as much as I want.”

“And I suppose I’m emo now.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Her brows curl together at the sight of Nancy looking sour in the seat to your left. “You aight, Nancy?”

The girl nods. There’s red coloring her cheeks and ears. Kind of cute, actually. “Still alive,” she says, “after the shit you pulled there. Surprisingly.”

You and Somi bump fists. This is how it is with her. Opposed to you and Nancy acting like best friends just two steps away from being a couple, you’re more of a teasing older friend to her. You act like brother and sister, though your bond is much deeper than that. There’s something lingering in the air between you, and Somi seems to have caught it. What could it be?

You don’t have to think about that for now, not when your arms are around your two best friends in the world and now keenly listening to Kim Sejeong. That wouldn’t have been possible in your first year of high school, when things were completely different.

But, like you said, things happen. Things change. It’s just how they work, and it’s about time you get used to it being like that. You wouldn’t have had it any other way with your two friends, though.

Sejeong waits for the three of you to get settled, then smiles welcomingly. “Now that we all have ourselves safely in our seats,” a stress there as she looks at you pointedly, “I suppose we should get on with your missed activities.”

Wince. You’re crossing your fingers, praying and begging that one particular girl doesn’t—

“What about the declamation?” Nancy asks innocently. “I thought it was due a month ago.”

A collective groan. You’ve gathered the class before to develop a plan to stall the feared exercise. Popularity, you believe, ought to be used correctly and for the common good. Keeping that declamation away is for the benefit of all. Not only is it an individual performance, but it makes up forty percent of your grade. It takes a hell of an effort to do it instantly.

No effort, so it seems, to Nancy McDonie. She’s the gooder girl of the duo, the perfect angel in all the right ways. She’s still right for this one—a lot of you just don’t like that truth.

“I thought we all agreed—”

“Somi!” you cut in, but she goes on shamelessly.

Somi stands up and looks at the class with genuine disappointment in her eyes. “—not to remind miss Kim about it. My god, you guys are, like, absolutely two-faced.”

It doesn’t take a while for the realization to set in with your teacher. Her stare is, as always, something that cuts straight to the soul. It sheds your dignity and leaves you bare for the eagle to eat of you. To be clear, there’s a reason why she was one of the teachers you never dared mess with. She was quiet but stern—a deadly combination.

"Oh. You kids are too smart for me, huh?" Sejeong laughs sarcastically. Her smile strips you of any attempt to wash her scolding off with a laugh. Can’t resort to that. Again, Kim Sejeong isn’t one to mess with. “That was more disappointing than anything the other classes have done. Do you think that just because you’re popular you can suddenly hold it against me?”

She uses the same lines you’ve heard back in your troublemaker days. Each word untaps a memory.

You all stay silent. Somi doesn’t for long, when she’s called up to go first with the declamation since “you thought of the plan, miss Jeon,” according to Sejeong.

“But, but, but it wasn’t even—” the girl protests. Her pupils are wide with rage. She’s so used to saying anything and getting away with it. She can’t believe it won’t work out like that for her today.

“Now.”

She groans dramatically, and rises with slumped shoulders so odd to be seen on such a duchess-like, pampered girl like her. After all, she’s the stereotypical rich, blonde teen with impeccable fashion and manners that range from the sweetest to the meanest. Right now, she’s veering in the middle of the scale as she gets to the front center.

You mouth her a deserved, and she says I’m sooo gonna punch you in the balls later.

“Now, miss Jeon,” says Sejeong, arms furled in front of her chest. Yep, she isn’t backing down. “What is your solution to poverty here in this country?”

Nancy raises her hand. “May I go first instead?” she offers in hopes to save her friend.

“You may not. Miss Jeon, please be brief. Start.”

Somi pouts, but faces the class with steady eyes. She’s ready for this. Mostly. Wringing out a pink bubble gum from her pink lips with pink-polished nails, she begins.

“So, you know how there are a lot of poor people. A lot. I know because I see a whole bunch outside the clubhouse and middle classers are always like, ‘Oh nooo, don’t give money to them, they’re gonna use it for drugs!’. And I’m just there going, ‘Gag me with a friggin’ spoon, Becky. Where the hell can you find drugs for a dime? Where?’.” She pauses for dramatic effect, then nods smugly. “Yep, that’s what I thought.”

Nancy brings her palm to her face. You’re giggling in your seat, muffling it with a few fingers. Sejeong’s eyes are wide and appalled.

“Okay,” the confident Somi continues, ��for example, there’re a lot of poor people somewhere. Let’s say fifty. Oh, maybe ninety! That's super many, right?”

You and your classmates look at each other. You’re not certain where she’s going with this.

“You can’t have too many people at the same place, like that time I had all of my geometrics class for my nineteenth and it was a total flop. You have to keep them fed, y’know. So I had to walk my pretty self to the bakers which is like ten minutes away then ask them for more chocolate cake. My daddy was super mad at me for maxing out his credit card, but by the end of the day, we had more cake! More cake equals less hunger equals more dessert equals less poor people.”

The jocks at the back nod in agreement, cheering her on. She acknowledges their reassurances with a flirty wave.

"So, if the government just maxed out their credit cards and let poor people eat cake,” she says, with real conviction for someone who’s dragging her chewed gum out of her mouth coyly, “I believe with all my heart that there will be no poverty in America. Who’s with me?”

The modern Marie Antoinette. You raise your hand proudly. Try to get Nancy to raise hers as well but she’s red in the face again.

“And to conclude,” Somi adds finally, “it should be everyone’s knowledge that there's no law in this beautiful country that says ‘Republic Act Anti-Poor People and Rich People Eating Cake Together Bunch of Numbers.’ I offer dessert for all to help eradicate poor people– I mean, poverty, led by our government and me, Jeon Somi. That will be all, thank you.”

The whole class gets up on their feet and applauds her. Like the princess she is, your blonde friend waves and bows, even blowing kisses. Meanwhile, Sejeong contemplates retirement and realizes she’s actually considering it, salary and all.

"You killed it, Somi. You fucking killed it."

That's what you say to your friend after leaving the classroom with her and Nancy. You mean it—you've never had a belly laugh that rocked your body that hard before. She deserved an A instead of that disappointing C-.

Sejeong’s sitting at her desk with her head in her hands. Somi’s speech was impactful, it seems. So impactful that it has her fingers jotting down a lengthy text message to… the principal? What’s that for? The speech was great!

Your classmates have filed out to go to computer shops or study. They tell Somi she did great with her declamation, which you’re pretty sure is intended to humiliate her, but Jeon Somi only ever thinks of anything said to her as a compliment. That’s why she blows them kisses and flirtatiously cocks her brows. Yep, that’s her. Nancy’s a different story—always quiet and reserved, but daring enough to hold Somi back before she causes more chaos. But the lid of Pandora’s box has already been lifted.

You three are already far behind your classmates when they go out, but you don’t mind. You like it when it’s just you. No computer shop or mall could compare to being in the hallways with your best friends, trading jokes and stories.

"Killed what? Poverty?" Nancy asks, still in a dilemma over the drama in the social studies classroom. "Somi, you really have to start minding your words."

Somi blows a satiric raspberry. She raises her hands in dismissal as she walks faster then turns around anyway to face her. "Blah blah, who cares? It was an awesome declamation."

Chuckle. "I feel like that's up for debate," you say. "Did you see miss Kim's face?"

It was a look of judgment and disappointment. While everyone cheered and whistled for the other half of the McDonie-Jeon duo, your teacher had a look on her face that could be likened to the one you make after smelling something bad. Laughs were passed around the classroom but her eyebrows and squinted eyes etched an expression of real concern.

"What if someone recorded that?" Nancy says. She has a hand on her shoulder to try and make her see the darker but truthful side. "You could ruin your chances of getting to a good college forever."

In these four walls of the corridor, your heart twists. Right—you only have a few months until you’re done with senior year. That means having to choose a course and college to go to. You didn’t think time would pass by that fast. By then, would you still be friends with Somi and Nancy?

You hope so. You look at their pretty faces and their hands in yours and wish high school would just last forever. You’d choose them over your standing, your popularity, everything. Sure, being friends with them brings inescapable attention, but you’d be fine without it if it means you could still be with them.

You sit down at the bottom step of the staircase. They follow, too. Open your textbook to skim through it, hoping that your stock knowledge for science would suffice.

“Ugh, college schmollege,” Somi says, crossing her legs and throwing her head back. When her pretty face comes back to view it’s mocking your other friend already. "Have you seen student debt? College just makes people poor. How’ll that help with poverty?”

You wonder how Jeon Somi could sound so knowledgeable yet so insensitive at the same time. It’s a feat that couldn’t be done by others. It’s like it’s her trademark: to be the wealthy girl who always says the wrong and right things that therefore blends into one, confusing mixture. Should you be offended? Happy? Anything?

Nancy leans on your shoulder with a sigh that blows the runaway strands on her face back with their kind. Sometimes Somi could be too much for her. It’s like she trades places with you and realizes how a beautiful girl could be a handful. That’s why you two are particularly close: you understand each other. You’re close with Somi, too, but you just have a deeper bond with the calmer girl. You still don’t know how it happened when she hated you at the start for filling her schedule because of your troubles. Some things just change as time goes on.

“You just can’t be fixed, Somi,” you tell her. “You’re always going to be insane.”

You know you’re right. She knows it, too. It would take years and years of maturity for Somi to grow out of her flirtatious personality. She’d be the girl in college whose laughable questions somehow also awaken strange inquiries of your own. She’s a little weird, to be honest, but she’s pretty and confident. Smart, too—she just has her own way of showing it.

“I’m a simple gal, what can I say?” She stops before she could go on, as if she’s just caught a memory in the slip of her hands. “Oh, and I forgot to do something.”

“And that is?”

Somi lifts a fist and heavily plows it into your crotch. You yowl in pain as opposed to her grin that could reach the ends of the earth. Where did she learn that? That hurt like hell!

Nancy’s jaw drops to the floor. “Somi!” she says, genuinely shocked.

“What the fuck was that for!” you screech in the midst of your laughs, clutching your core and glaring at the convict of the crime which is assaulting your balls.

The fact that the criminal’s too pretty is an unfair advantage. “I did say I was gonna punch your balls earlier.”

“You owe me one, Jeon Somi!”

“Hey, I wouldn’t have had to do it if McDonie here wasn’t a grody teacher’s pet.”

Nancy blushes. She's forgotten she's involved in the mess, too. “I’m sorry,” she says in a small voice.

“I bet you are.” Somi shoves her shoulder playfully. “Cause and effect, Nance. C’mon, if you didn’t want to be a good girl so bad, I wouldn’t have declaimed or anything. Not that it wasn’t amazing.”

What a ridiculous conversation to have. You place your arms around both girls and pull them close. “Alright,” you declare, still wincing, “fuck, you’re both at fault. Nancy made a butterfly effect that ended up getting my balls aching. I’m the poor girls’ guy that got pulled into everything. What’re you gonna do about it?”

Somi floats her fingers on her cheek, thinking a little. It’s like a bulb lit above her head when her eyes suddenly brighten. You hope that it’s a good idea this time because when she makes that look, it isn’t for any good at all.

“Nancy and I will discuss this, if you don’t mind,” she says, rising to her feet and tugging Nancy up, too.

“Me?”

“Yep!”

She pauses. “Jeon Somi,” the latter sighs halfheartedly, “what are you planning now?”

Yeah, what is she planning? You have no idea and honestly, it scares you. Somi can be unpredictable with her quick wit and schemes, but with Nancy’s added ideas? Whatever she’s dreaming up, it can’t be anything you’d expect.

“The perfect apology. Meet us at my house after school. See you later, cutie.”

Your classes are filled with sprites of anxiety that are unusual when compared to your daily jokes and butt-ins. Your head’s filled with plenty of questions, and you try to answer them as you go about the rest of the school day:

First of all, why did the apology have to take place at Somi’s house?

Maybe they’ll buy a cake for you from the bakery she cited in her speech. She has plenty of money to go around so a cake might actually be possible. If it weren’t a cake, maybe an apology combined with balloons and confetti that you’d laugh about years from now. All these possibilities you sift through and yet they don’t seem to be what’s in store for you.

Second, why did the planning that had to occur without you?

They might be planning a big surprise. Perhaps that’s it. But then—

Why such a big surprise for an apology that could’ve been done simply?

That’s where your mind goes blank. You don’t know. You have no idea, not even the tiniest bit. You’ve been friends with Nancy and Somi for years but they still have that mystery around them. You know everything about them, from their interests to what makes the three of you click, but never what they plan to do. That always remains shrouded.

So, when Nancy texts your group chat the plan’s done!!! ♥ ️ be ready & meet us where youre supposed to :), you move like a snail. You take your time playing and talking to other students, buying food from the cafeteria, everything. When you get on the bus to commute from your school to Somi’s home, you’re wrecked by hesitation. All this anxiety and nervousness for a damned apology.

Maybe it’s because you’ve never had friends like them before, especially that pretty.

You would never intend to act on your feelings for them if they don’t want you to, even if you’re hormonal as fuck, but what if that’s what they’re planning? To have an intimate night with them, just like in the movies?

Or, hopefully, finally let you have something deeper: a love that fits three?

Nope, two wishes that’ll never come true, whatever star you make them upon.

Drag your heavy feet down the road. Sounds like Somi’s rich-ass neighbors are partying again. Take your precious time leering at them, noticing the manner they hold their wine glasses and the music only being stolen off Spotify’s Most Popular Songs playlist. It’s all a headache, honestly. You’ve never connected well with rich people, not until you met the girls. That’s where it all starts and ends, right? Them: Somi and Nancy, the yin and yang?

“You’re here!” shouts Somi gleefully, throwing her arms around you. She’s dressed in this tiny shirt that looks cute and simple but you’re sure costs more than a few thousand won. It also shouldn’t be worth that much when it’s too little for her anyway. “Why did you take so long?”

Nancy goes in for the kill. She comes in with only a camisole and the undershorts of her uniform plaid skirt, and it hugs right where it maims and shoots you. No, keep your mind holy. She’s your best friend. Also your crush but that doesn't matter here. “Bet he was scared to come.”

“Was not,” you reply too quickly. Tighten your jaw. “I—I got held up by traffic.”

“It’s a Wednesday.”

“Yes, but—” Pause. You realize you don’t have a proper justification. “Just get to it, will you? The apology?”

“‘Kay ‘kay,” says Somi, wrapping an arm around your waist, literally keeping you at arm’s length just in case you try to scamper away, “the apology is a girls and boy’s night. Here. Just to get away from everything. We all need it.”

“Who’s ordering the soju?”

“Soju?” Nancy asks indignantly, eyes all round and wide like she was a deer caught in headlights. You and Somi are like that to her: flashing lights, crashing into an unsuspecting her with a brightness a notch too much. No apologies when you don’t plan to change. This is what makes you young.

“What’re you, a nun? We’re adults, Nance!” Somi says. Her thumbs tap away at her phone screen, the familiar pink lights flashing back at her indicating she’s already ordering. “It’s on me.”

Of course. Who other than Jeon Somi? Of course, you can’t let that moment slip away without a snarky remark from your end.

“Must be nice having access to your billionaire dad’s bank account.”

Somi twirls her fingers in her hair and squints her eyes at you spitefully. “I’m using my mom’s, poophead.”

“Oh wow,” you reply, your statement blank of any emotion.

“Guys,” cuts in Nancy. Her voice is strained. She feels like a mother trying to contain two kids who just know how to push her buttons. “We can’t have soju delivery. Or beer. Or whatever alcoholic drinks there are. We can get in trouble. Think about our grades. The suspensions!”

Ah, sweet Nancy, always the one to pull you back down to sense. But when has that ever worked?

“Alright.” Somi clicks her device shut and throws it on the sofa space you’ve left empty beside her. “Fine.”

Wait—what?

Her best friend twists her head in shock. “Really?”

Nancy simply can’t believe that this girl, whose whole trademark is being a spoiled brat, actually follows sensible orders. You're surprised yourself; you can’t believe it more than she does. Is it finally time for Somi to perform her arc of being the mature, behaved girl she simply isn’t?

“Yep. You won.” Somi rises and waltzes her way to the exit of her mansion. “I’m just gonna buy some myself from the convenience store.”

“Somi!”

“Hey, you only said no delivery! You didn’t say I can’t buy some face-to-face!”

“Well, now I’m making it official. No—”

“See you later, alligators!”

The door slams shut.

Nancy groans loudly. Of course, the little brat.

She lets herself fall to the floor in defeat. The massaging of her fingers on the sides of her head doesn’t do enough to cast away the stress. How in the world is she going to control Somi? She knows the two of you are practically twins, the same in every way when planning schemes to make her freak out. She has to play babysitter again. How many nights has it been since the start of her unpaid duty?

On your end, you're thinking. You’ve been friends with her for longer than you think yet you don’t know how to say the right thing in situations like these. Maybe with Somi it would have been easier to say the comforting words. After all, she’s the most extroverted and blunt person you know. But with Nancy, it’s different. Nancy McDonie is never blue. At least, not to the point where she’s on the floor and moping.

It’s always different between the two of them and you still remain unable to pick who you love more.

It takes a while to get the words out, but better late than never. God, you’re such a bad friend. Do you even deserve her? “It’s fine, Nancy,” you say, sitting down beside her. You rub her knee. “Like she said, we’re adults.”

“I know, but…” Her voice trails off, and she lets out another groan that twists as it reaches your eardrums. “It’s just so scary.”

“Tell me.”

“What if someone posted photos of us drinking? You know the school handbook, right? All that talk about maintaining a good and clean self inside and outside the school. If someone finds out—”

"Yeah? Well, nobody will."

"Yeah, but there's always the possibility…"

You sometimes pray that Nancy's allowed a day without worry, that she doesn't stress over things for once. She's precious—you don't want her to feel bad about anything. This strange protectiveness always takes you when you're with her.

“Hey.” You massage her shoulder. She whines, and it’s so cute hearing her unusual sulking that you just want to wrap a blanket around her and kiss her on the forehead. Again, urges. Simply urges. Don’t mind those. “There’s only three of us here. As long as we don’t post pics online or boast about it, we’re safe. So don’t worry about it.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Not when you’re with a dreamboat like me.”

You just humiliated yourself with that. Hell, you probably gave everyone who knows and will know this story of yours secondhand embarrassment. It’s worth it all, however, when Nancy smiles. And oh, could you get lost in it. Her eyes curl up at the corners and emit all this gorgeous, positive brightness that you think everyone should get a chance to see. She’s so serious and reserved in school that a smile from her is closer to impossible than thunder coming before lightning.

“God, you’re such a gigantic ass sometimes,” she mutters, bumping your shoulder with hers.

“Did you just say I had a huge ass?”

“Keep your mouth shut.” She pushes you, joining you in your laughs, then opens her arms invitingly anyway. “Oh, forget it. Come here, you.”

You can’t even pretend to not want a hug when it’s all you’ve ever fantasized about: being in the warm, filled embrace of Nancy McDonie. You’ve fantasized about things that extend deeper than that, but you could settle for this. There’s Nancy burying her head in your neck and her hold being a little too tight for it to be a casual touch between friends. You’re delusional, but who wouldn’t be when you had a best friend this pretty? This… curvaceous?

God, you don’t know how to say that you like this girl without sounding like another one of the weirdos who stalk her at school. Are you just like them? No, you can’t be. You’ve liked Nancy and known her more than they could. It’s what you tell yourself to keep your sanity.

“You know,” she says, still rocking the two of you side to side, “they did say not to trust first impressions. ‘You better take advice. Never trust first impressions.’”

“Didn’t Michael Jordan say that?”

“Did he?” She looks up curiously.

“Never mind,” you say, waving it off. You pull away. Lean against the curve of Somi’s sofa so that your ass doesn’t slide like a mop on her floor. "What’s with first impressions? What was your first impression of me?”

“You really want to know?”

“Why not?”

“Well, for the first reason…” Nancy hugs her knees and looks at you pointedly. “Not a lot of people would love to know that they were a real fucking pain in the ass.”

You burst out laughing. There’s chances as slim as a ballerina that Nancy curses, but when she does, she sounds hilarious. She doesn’t even say them a certain way; it’s just the instance by itself of her daring to use words deemed as bad that gets your tears of laughter flowing.

To add to that, there’s that matter-of-fact statement she made that’s as honest as Somi’s everyday talk that makes you think they switched souls for a second. You laugh harder with that in mind. The next thing you know, you’re curled up on the floor busting out cackles that reach pitches you can’t even shout in.

“Seriously!” she says. She’s laughing as well as she shakes her head in disbelief. “I was always trying to keep the seniors in place, you know, being president and everything. And then I found out this new kid just spammed middle finger emojis to sir Fernandez in the Zoom chat after he made him answer a question. And I was like, ‘Hooo boy.’”

“Well, he shouldn’t have called on me while I was playing a game!”

“You’re so immature, he’s a teacher and you’re in class! He’s supposed to do that!” Nancy squeals, a hand on her mouth to muffle her rambunctious cackles.

“Fine, fair point.” You somehow manage to make a successful attempt to halt your laughs. “And then what happened?”

There's a lot of secret lore between you and her. You want to uncover all of them, especially knowing that Somi's gonna tease you to hell about if she heard. Her getting soju was a blessing underneath another blessing—you got alone time with your crush and some nice alcohol to ignite your system.

Nancy looks around at her friend's house. She admires every perfect painting bought for millions, every chandelier that mistletoes whoever stands beneath all its glory. They help her form her next statement.

"To be honest," she says, choosing her words carefully, "I thought you were in it to blackmail money out of Somi. To manipulate her. I love the girl, you know. She acts like she's all that, and she is, but she's… fragile. So I never let her be alone with you."

"Damn.” You admit that your heart sank a little, like a ship doomed by the ocean. “Am I really an ugly creep?"

"No, it wasn't that. I was just afraid you were a player. Like one of the jocks who bully Somi but don't ever get to her because she's too naïve to see that they're doing it. And you're not ugly, you know. You're…"

She's looking at you strangely, in that strategic little way she locks on artwork flashed in a Powerpoint from a projector in school. She's looking at you as if you were a complex, layered painting she couldn't wrap her head around. But being unable to pick you apart thrills her; there's a smile on her face.

"I'm what?" you ask, ever the dumbass. Or poophead—you take whatever.

"Don't make me say it. You're so full of yourself already."

"Respectfully, Nancy,” you declare, “I have no idea what you're saying. How can I when I didn't even know what a dodo was before eleventh grade?"

"You're handsome, okay?" Her cheeks get into this furious red color that she tries miserably to hide with her palms, hide with a dismissive laugh. "Good-looking. Attractive. Whatever."

Chew at the end of your lip to fight back a giddy grin. Did she really say that? A star out there in the looming night just granted your wish. "Well, you gave me the makeover back at Jessa's."

"Look at you being the patron saint of humility."

"I'm serious. I looked like a loser before you came in like a storm and rained that magic in my life."

“And now you’re Shakespeare.”

“When a girl like you comes into a guy’s life,” you say, leaning forward, “who wouldn’t be?”

"Well." Nancy huddles her chin into her palm. Her voice is as soft as cotton. "With a guy like you, you could say I never looked back."

But her voice dips, and there's a hidden subliminal message in it that causes you to look up. You could read it clear off her face there, off Nancy, off her soul that's never looked more clear.

Nancy, with her chestnut brown hair, ever the princess of autumn.

Nancy, with her comforting eyes full of resoluteness, as if she's wanted this to happen.

Nancy, with her lips barely a breath away from—

“Who the freak locked the door?” shrieks a familiar voice from outside. Well, not too outside when its volume closes in on the interior vicinity of the large mansion. “This is my house! Let me in or else I’ll call the cops—”

Sigh. Fucking cockblocker brat. You rise from the floor and approach the doorway. This time, you spare no time—you don’t want to look back and identify the look in Nancy’s eyes as you walk away.

“Calm down, the neighbors could hear you,” you laugh as you let the blonde girl in. You’re a little disappointed that she interrupted what was beginning to happen, but there’s time for that later. Can’t spare her an annoyed look, though. It melts when you see the cans of beer in plastic bags.

Nancy takes a bag from her sullenly. “No drinking past twelve.”

“No promises.” Empty a can into your open mouth. Somi claps her hands happily and almost drops all the alcohol she bought.

You help the girls stock the cans and bottles into the fridge. It’s the large, two-door one that could fit an entire person. Wait, it can contain all of you three? You’ve been to Somi’s so many times and only noticed it now.

But that’s the last thing you take note of, for here's what's new: ice cream overflows Somi’s freezer, yet a lot of them haven’t even had a crumb consumed from them. Somi says it’s because she keeps them for cheat days.

“Is today considered a cheat day?” you wonder out loud.

“Go crazy.” Indifferent, Somi gives you a tub each. Chocolate. Vanilla. Double dutch for her. “It’s not like Walmart’s gonna disappear unless the aliens come to Earth and have the bright idea to go wacka over there. Nope, Walmart’s always gonna have some more.”

“Aren’t you the best, Somi.” Ruffle her hair fondly while you scoop a humongous chunk of ice cream into your mouth. Alcohol and ice cream are delicious together, but your stomach turns around. It strangely stays intact, as if preparing for what might happen later tonight.

“Of course I am, are you buggin' or what?”

Somi licks the spoon of its sweetness, staring right at you. You don’t know how to react—her tongue’s gliding all over the utensil perfectly, collecting the studded white with nothing but clean performance. Her eyes don’t let up in their strong, connected gaze. Your breath gets lost somewhere in your airway.

Nancy watches amusedly. Okay, so maybe she does smile more than you think—it’s unlike any other one though. This one of hers is lined to the edges with smugness. “There’s our princess,” she remarks.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The spoon catches somewhere sandwiched between Somi’s words.

Nancy shrugs with a serene calmness. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

She walks away without another word or gesture. Suddenly tense in the bones, you and Somi close up together for reasons unknown.

“Is that just me being majorly freaky,” says Somi, eyes following her best friend with a new, imminent gaze, “or was that kinda hot?”

You don’t answer, but you think she knows. The two of you bond over shared experiences, and this one is about finding out how hot Nancy McDonie truly is. It’s not an unknown fact, but it’s the way her pupils settle over someone and linger just long enough to have them wondering; the way she commands a classroom; the way she rarely is vulnerable—it’s all that which leads to the very moment she leaned against the fridge door and watched silently, attracting the two of you even without the need for many words.

You’re droning again. Drowning, too, in her. In both of them—as you walk behind Somi, you can see that there isn’t a bra strap lining an imprint on her shirt and her ass is sticking out under her shorts. You barely could get yourself out of the waves as you wade your way to the stairs.

At least that’s a familiar high place you could seek refuge from: the loft. It’s kind of like an attic, but you don’t really care. It’s where you hang out and watch all the movies with them from a crappy projector. You don’t care about the films due to your conversations with them eventually proving to be more interesting.

“Roof?” Somi asks. She peeks out of the triangular window pane. “The stars are pretty tonight.”

Never been there before. Not that you aren’t willing to try. “Just don’t fall off,” you warn, though you’re nervous yourself to get there.

She slides a chair to you and then you’re climbing through a square-shaped gap at the low ceiling. You help the girls up onto the roof and become literally starstruck because—

Whoa.

Feels like a different world. The night is as vast as it is beautiful. Shining lights are embedded into the sky, the gray clouds barely visible with how they blend in with the color of the atmosphere. Each star has their own glimmer, but all of which share a common brightness—when partnered up with that large, pot-bellied moon, they become more perfect. The soft yet distinct sounds of the cicadas echo in your ears.

“Will anyone see us up here?” asks Nancy. Her vision is filled with shining galaxies, and her tone sounds dreamy. She says it in a way that isn’t out of concern for possible consequent trouble, but an appreciative one, as if she were wondering if anybody else could see how pretty it is up here.

“No one.” You shut the trapdoor and sit upon the curved edges of the roof. “It’s just us.”

“It’s just us,” she repeats this thoughtfully. You think that she’s smiling again, but you can’t be too sure.

Yes, it’s just you three. This intimate moment includes only you and the girls who turned your life around. Nobody else could get to bask in the simple happiness of hanging out all the way up here. This is for you, and no one else. Nobody could ever be friends with the girls the way you are.

You three take in the beauty of the night. All the way up here, the hills look higher than they already are. The sound of partying neighbors becomes static in the background. It becomes like foreign words in an uninteresting song—it’s nothing in comparison to the view of sloping roads, tall homes, and the trees swaying to the beat of the night wind. It can try its best to break your immersion and every attempt would be fruitless.

“Care for some double dutch?” Somi asks you. She juts out her tub of half-eaten chunks of ice cream. Appealing.

“As long as you don’t use the spoon you gave a blowjob to.”

Nancy snickers. She shoves your knee in reprimand, taking care not to put in so much force so you don’t topple down the roof and onto the main road.

“I’ll give BJs to any spoon I want, thank you very much, but alright. Do what you want. No ice cream for you, more for me.”

“I could go for some.” Nancy parts her lips.

“Glad to see we still have someone with a brain around here.” Somi shakes her head at you disapprovingly.

You squint your eyes while she feeds Nancy some double dutch. Note dutifully that she uses the same spoon she violated. Well, that’s one thing you didn’t expect. But they’re best friends—they’ve been there for each other through thick and thin, bad and good. Sometimes simple gestures like that show that there’s something in the midst of them that beats mere friendship.

But then you see the way they look at you, and you’re briefly toying with the idea that whatever they have, they got it with you, too.

“I still remember the first time we brought you here,” Somi says, leaning in front of you so she can get to wiping some cream from Nancy’s lips. “You tried to act cool, but you were really starstruck. Like the house was Zendaya’s or something.”

“I guess so.” You freeze up when she holds your hand. “I mean, I’m not exactly the richest.”

You think of your own house—sweet little place with a tall tree and a low gate, nothing special—then compare it to hers: a mansion with six floors and rooms that could substitute for hotel clients. Nancy’s is amazing, too. But you don’t really care about that. It’s a whole other thing that bothers you about it.

Nancy shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter. You’re our friend. We’ll share it with you as much as you want.”

You’re finally able to name the thing. For months you’ve thought about it, but you never realized until this moment that it’s exactly what keeps you insecure about your friendship with them. That’s another thing they make you find out, besides style and bond.

“Yeah, I get it. But, but I’m a loser. I was a punk who made school life hell for you. I’m broke. Stupid. I don’t get what made you want to be friends with me.”

Maybe you're like Somi, too. You act like a king in school with a red carpet draped down on the floor for you, but you fear that your crown is undeserved. Sometimes you feel like you're a peasant deluded by dreams of status and strength.

“Besides you being stupidly hot,” Somi says, albeit sincerely—there’s no sarcasm or flirtatiousness in her pitch, “you’re not in it for the cash. You’re not in it just to say you’re besties with us.”

“And trust me,” adds Nancy, “that makes you a prodigy among others.”

They're right. You aren't in it for the popularity, the fame, not even the everyday free treats and outings you get. You just… like them. Somi's bright confidence inspires you; you've never seen a girl more self-aware than her. And Nancy's someone who takes her studies seriously, an example you should follow, while still maintaining a social life.

"What makes you so sure?" you say teasingly. They might've had some doubts along the way.

"I dunno," Somi says with a shrug. Her eyes curve north. "We just are."

They just are. Short and simple, but it somehow explains everything.

"And I guess we know a lot more about you than we think." Nancy twirls her fingertips along your thigh. "Because we want to show we're grateful. And, y'know, sorry for the ruckus we caused back there."

"You already have. The soju, the ice cream… I'm already good."

She smiles. "You really don't get it, do you?"

Your mind can't keep up. What don't you get here?

Somi leans forward and flashes you a smile that raises your suspicions. "You're completely clueless. Like, if it danced in front of you in a housewife apron, you would still order your dumb poophead ass some chicken wings."

"What? Why the hell would a hint be wearing an apro—"

You don't know why or how, but she's kissing you like you got the point she's been pushing across.

Now you do.

"Call this… a friend's sincere apology."

Somi's pushed you down on the old mattress of the loft, with a new look on her face that tells you tonight would be everything you expected and didn't.

"Two friends' sincere apology," adds Nancy. Her shorts are off? You didn't notice in the dark, but you can make out the supple shape of her hips and thighs, full and meaty in all the right ways. "Question is: would you let us do it?"

Your answer is locked and loaded in your throat. Can't pull the trigger when her ass muffles your face.

Alright, perhaps—just perhaps, you aren't saying it's real—you've devoted a few seconds of your time appreciating when the wind picks up her skirt at school. You tried not to be perverted because, of course, she's your friend. Your best friend.

A best friend doesn't push hers down a mattress with the weight of her core on his face. She doesn't let him feel her full cheeks suffocate him, or start to move like she would please a lover.

So what are you and Nancy when she's doing each of those things?

Definitely not just friends.

"Fuck." The word leaves Nancy's mouth like a prayer. She doesn't pray often, but she religiously grinds her hips to and fro on top of you. The flat of your tongue massages her labia and tickles her prone clit. She's so wet that your lips quickly become coated. She looks back and moves her ass with stressed slides. "Your mouth is so good. So fucking good."

"Already?" Somi chuckles. She's not just your best friend either; her thighs hug one of yours and, like the girl she's always seen giggling and whispering with, she's grinding. Her movements are admittedly more fluid, but who's keeping note? "You talk real dirty for a prude."

Your pants slide off your legs as she finds the bare skin more appealing than denim. You flex and send a moan from her so carnal it might have literally clawed its way out of her throat. It's sharp. Needy. Wanton. Somi doesn’t speak like the rich princess she is when she moans for cock.

"I'm not a prude," Nancy says. Her breath is tinged to the tone with air. She's gasping as you tongue her and lick at her lips. "I just like being chaste."

"Please, sweetheart, you're aaanything but chaste."

"S-says the one who's sucking him off."

Both girls have mouths on them. Somi in particular. It's word-for-word how her lips trap your cock and start off with a strong suction. You moan right into Nancy's pussy. Said girl cries out when your lips strengthen their merciless suction on her pearl.

If you were to consider everything like a butterfly effect, you'd say Somi started it all: the sucking and moans. She's the one who's massaging your cock with those pink lips, effectively causing you to lose control and take it all out on Nancy. Poor Nancy, always the one to take it all. Now it's for good; she's squeezing her breasts and riding your mouth like a saddle.

"Blowjobs don't count!" Somi quips. You moan again; the tip of her tongue toys with your balls. It's like she lit a fire there no wetness can put out. (Well, you still have to see about that.) "We'll show him how real good girls say sorry later. You know what I mean, right, babe?"

That fucked nickname does things to you, even if it's not meant for you, because it foretells the sight you have to fight to see with Nancy's back blocking it: Somi placing her hands on her best friend's hips and guiding her movements on your mouth.

"Y-yes." You're surprised at how submissive Nancy sounds. So different from the commanding tone she assumes in morning assemblies.

You didn’t expect you’d be in this position. Another thing you didn’t expect was how wet Nancy is, and how she tastes. She’s tangy yet sweet, filling your mouth like a new favorite flavor. She also moans a lot, which is strange when she doesn’t really talk much outside of this setting. You’ve changed her, too. Just not in the way like she did taking you to Jessa’s. No, this is your way: keeping her drenched little pussy filled with a soft muscle that’s hard enough to have her legs shaking.

"That's right. Move that fat ass for him." Somi sits on the side with one hand on one side of Nancy's waist and another on your cock. She jerks you off hard, with a grip that's both too tight and too good. "Your nipples are sooo hard, Nancy. Just a hunch of mine, but I think you want me to suck on them. Make you cum on his handsome face."

Precum dribbles from your cockhead. How could Somi, the girl who speaks in coy accents, talk so filthy? She knows the time and place for that mouth, and it's right now and on Nancy's waiting breast.

Your length goes through bouts of impossible tightness induced by Somi's fist while your mouth (gladly) suffers another burden, which is Nancy's pussy and ass gyrating down on you. Your tongue doesn't know where to go so it goes everywhere: licking a wet line on her slit, diving into her drenched hole, teasing her clit. Nancy's thighs slam with your head in between.

"Fuck!" Her moans are straight up pornographic. "Oh, oh, it feels so good, don't stop!"

Somi runs a teasing finger on your slit, keeping the heat in one place before resuming having her palm wrap your dick. "Who says we're stopping? Yep, nobody. Just keep moving those hips, lovie. We still got so much to give him."

You didn't think it was possible, but yes. Nancy does sprawl out more, her outed pussy lips all puffy and sore from your doings. You’re ruining her with how you lick and let her push down. Her core must be strong for her to keep a good stance in the midst of it all.

It’s not like you’re left out. Somi’s to thank for that, with her hand not stopping as it pumps and pumps and pumps. The pace is dangerous like a feared waterfall that’s got signs telling travelers to be wary around it. She pulled you into it. It isn’t that you wanted to suffer under the rapidity when you feel comfortable with the descent and rise.

"Ah. Ahhh, please!"

Nancy never begs. She's above that, just like she is with everything else. But listen to her pleas and begs for more, for you to keep licking and sucking at the right places, for your hands not to pause in their journeys roaming the land of her perfect, curvy body.

Somi spanks her, and you quite literally feel her cheeks bounce in your face. You'd actually be okay with going out this way. Heaven could be found in Nancy's full ass.

Oh, right, and Somi’s hand. You’ve never taken Somi as the kind to get around a lot even when she acts overly sexual sometimes, but she must have learned those skills somewhere. Her hand is neither too tight nor too loose—it’s just the perfect grip for you to almost cum into her fingers. She’s determined to wring a climax out of you, too, with how harsh she slams her hand down on your core.

It’s a cycle of pleasure that has no means of ending. With Somi fingering herself, you getting the best handjob you’ve ever had, and Nancy having her pussy eaten out, none of you are left to waste away. It’s sin, that’s what it is. It’s an act that, if anyone had caught sight of, would have guaranteed a swift suspension—maybe even the chance of getting expelled.

But in this warm moment, all of you forget about that. Even Nancy has that off her mind when all she’s thinking about is your tongue delightfully fucking her wet hole.

“I’m… I’m cumming!” she wails. Her riding on your face spirals out of control, and again and again you’re blessed with her ass suffocating you.

It’s too much for one girl to take: a mouth going crazy on her pussy and another doing the same, if not crazier, on her tit. Your sucks and Somi’s own increasing when she announces her imminent bliss doesn’t help her case either. But maybe it does—she’s never felt this good. Whenever she secretly, scandalously toyed with her pussy under the covers at night, none of those porn videos and literotica made her cum as hard as you and Somi have. It feels like a large bubble has burst inside her when she finally releases, tensing up and freezing similar to if a frostbitten cold finally took its last toll on her.

She sighs heavily while she comes down. Her thighs shake and you have to pin them down the creaky mattress to keep eating of her. She shudders and pushes you down. You stop, like she hinted.

“You alright, Nancy?” You remember Somi asking a similar question earlier, in a situation that’s nothing compared to this. Yep, far from it. A continent away. You weren’t eating her out like a last meal in the classroom, were you?

Well, you would have wanted to if you’d discovered prior that her ass is really as nice as it looks.

“Yes,” she replies weakly.

You’re glad.

“I might have to try and get you to eat me out, too,” Somi says to you. She helps Nancy to get off your face after you got her off. “She was screaming, did you hear? You’d think somebody was like getting killed and– oh, wait, of course you couldn’t hear. Her thighs are just the perfect things to have wrapped around your head, right?”

Nancy blushes and looks away..

“But I think we should take the lead." Somi stops jerking you off. What quickly washes away your disappointment is when she takes her shirt off. "We’re the ones giving back.”

The recoil of her large chest is amazing; it rises as it’s hindered by the tight hem of her clothing, and settles back into its natural position after she rids herself of the fabric. Her rosy nipples are things work gawking at; they’re as stiff and hard as diamonds, telling you of how much she wants this. And you think you’ve seen a few of Somi’s diamonds she could purchase a whole mine of, but you’d still have a desire similar to the blonde’s: you want her more.

“I’ve seen you looking at them. Don’t pretend and go all ‘oh nooo, that’s not true.’” She gives her own gifted bosom a firm grope. Her head throws back due to the pleasure. “You stare all the time. It makes me kinda assume that you want me to do something with them.”

“And what could that be?” you ask in a futile attempt to match her cockiness. Should’ve known that it’s a losing game trying to beat Jeon Somi in being a brat. It’s a god-given gift, a skill that needs no honing. She’s just like that.

“Duh. Like I said, I’ll show, not tell. This isn’t primary school.”

She shows a hefty amount, you’ll tell her that. Your mouth falls out at what happens. She takes her tits into her hands and leans down to envelope your cock in them. She seals it tight around your girth.

Fuck.

She then starts to move. Up and down she goes, toying with her nipples on the way. It makes her core more drenched than it already is.

She’s the master of eye contact. She picked it up with her natural confidence. Why do you think she walks the hallways with a gaze that’s only directed straight ahead? Talks to new kids like she already knows them? She’s never seen weak, and tonight is no exception. Her fierce eyes speak of lust and strength of knowing she’s having her way.

Jeon Somi always gets what she wants.

Again, this time is no exception.

“Fuck, Somi…” you say in quiet groans.

Someone needs to pinch you. This can’t be real. Never did you think what you’ve been dreaming would actually come true. The nights you touch yourself to the frequent sight of her tits practically bursting out of her uniform, you think of this same exact thing. You think of using her breasts like a toy, and now you’re experiencing it for real.

Perhaps one of the stars out there really took one for the team and granted two of your wishes at the same time.

Are you in wonderland? The movement of her tits provide a solid pace that’s hard to keep up with. Its warm, slick embrace has you on the edge of the mattress. You don’t ever want to run away from this feeling. It’s slick and tight yet rough, giving you a pleasure that’s confusing just as it is enjoyable.

“How’re you doing there?”

“I like it. More than like,” you breathe. Swallow what’s already been said.

Somi’s tits are a dream. They might as well have been made out of clouds with how soft they are, even when hugging your dick. You see yourself disappear between them and moan. Look up at Somi and see her seductively bite her lip; moan harder. Who knew all that barky flirtatiousness had a bite to them?

“Really?” she asks. She stops for a regretful moment to slap your cock against the side of her boob. The curve of your length heats up. “Couldn’t have guessed.”

She resumes, and you couldn’t be more thankful. The friction is everything to live for, and you’re a man who’s had no wish to die. Somi’s pale chest, guided by her hands trapping your cock between the massiveness in front of you, propels you to a close orgasm.

You switch your focus briefly to Nancy. She hums from afar. You notice that her fingers are in between her legs. She’s enjoying it as much as you are. “Could you stop being a brat for like, one second?” she chuckles, though it twists between her moans.

She’s sitting on the floor with her well-eaten pussy splayed to welcome her digits, and they definitely are welcome visitors. Her mouth is open though no more words come out.

“What? He likes it.” Somi jumps the pace to a rapidity you cry out for, and smiles that smile. The smile she only does when she’s doing or will be doing something she shouldn’t be. Explains a lot—if you two were just best friends, she wouldn’t be titfucking you. “And this is an apology, right? I’m saying sorry for punching him in the balls.”

“God,” you laugh out loud in spite of it all. “If this is the way you apologize, I’d have you punch my balls everyday.”

“I could do that. Say your apologies, too, Nancy. The way you’ll know he likes it.”

It’s as if she made your wet dream and worst nightmare come true. Can you even take more? It’s a question that apparently is disregarded of its answer; Nancy crawls over to the edge of the old, discarded mattress to suck on your swollen balls whenever Somi’s tits rise.

They’re arsonists, and your whole body is the unfortunate victim. Although they attend only to your crotch except for the here-and-there brushes on your stomach and legs, your toes and arms burn. Somi and Nancy are sending heat waves everywhere. You twist and turn and propel and cry—none of those banish it. And it’s for the better because you’ve never felt closer to paradise.

You have to groan loudly. It can’t be muffled when the sensations are coming at you all at the same time. You can feel Nancy’s tongue dragging its edge along your sensitive flesh and her friend’s tits bouncing around you; see the two students’ sultry looks never breaking; hear one girl’s grunts as she fucks you with her bosom and the other’s moans; touch the mane of Nancy’s autumn hair to pull her deeper into your crotch; taste an orgasm that couldn’t really just come now when it’s this close—

“Oh shit, fuck!” The most senseless of curses come out of you after Somi’s titjob provokes a messy, violent orgasm. You’d be more coherent than that if she were letting up. Not possible when she doesn’t; she keeps bouncing up and down to jerk your cock off with her deep cleavage.

Somi hums delightfully at the never ending spray of cum on her tits. Nancy stops suckling harshly at your left testicle in order for her to be able to do it instead to the rod beside it.

“Nancy, fuck, so good—” you say, hissing as your hips rise up.

You’re inadvertently facefucking her like this. Your hips move with their own will. They push up hard into Nancy’s beautiful lips. She in turn reacts with spontaneous downward drives of her head, welcoming you into her tight throat and letting you savor her mouth.

Somi fixes the girl’s hair into a ponytail of brown. She could see the bulge you’re making on her throat. She nods her on whenever Nancy looks at her with hesitation, and rubs your thigh to get your sensitivity levels to an all-time peak. She certainly got what she wanted and expected, as per usual, for you’re moaning with the tone of someone who gets paid to do it; shivering though it’s anything but cold here in this loft that’s gotten warm for other reasons besides the fireplace.

Nancy gags as she pulls away. Now she’s poured on by the white rain, too; some get into her hair while the others find a landing place on her shirt. God, that must have been expensive. You’re not here to make reparations, just to remind yourself; this is for you. They gave you this opportunity.

However, your heart pumps with anxiety hearing Nancy hack and cough. You quickly get to the floor, knees shaking on the way. “Hey,” you start, with a thumb on her chin, “you want to keep going?”

It doesn’t look like it for a second, but then those beautiful dark eyes connect with yours and suddenly all the discomfort is away. She smiles.“Y-yeah!” she says with a half-giggle. “All okay here.”

“Awesome.” Somi pats her back repeatedly and strokes her hair. “I was beginning to think I wouldn’t get you to suck on my tits.”

You look at said tits and gulp. Yeah, that beautiful chest covered with your release is tempting to be gawked at. But still, time and place even for jokes. Nancy’s about to have a goddamned asthma attack.

“You are so out of line sometimes,” you say to Somi disapprovingly.

“It’s alright.” Nancy grins. Wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Nobody said apologies weren’t hard to do.”

The look of defiance and mischief softens on Somi’s face. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I’m sure he won’t mind, right, oppa?”

“Yeah,” you butt in, something you would have done even without Somi’s jab at your shin. Dear god, is the girl a bodybuilder in disguise or something? That hurt almost as much as the punch to your balls. “Nancy, I appreciate it and everything, but if you want to back out—”

Look, this is everything you wished for. You wanted to have intimate moments with them probably since just a few months before the friendship was sealed. They’re beautiful girls, and you love Nancy especially closely. However, if they want to stop, you have to. Not to become a white knight or anything, but that’s natural law. You don’t force anybody into it.

“It’s okay, seriously.” Nancy’s relieving words now pass more smoothly through her lips. “Are you liking it so far?”

Alright, another thing to analyze. What else is there to answer? “Yes” is a painfully obvious reply to her question. You’ve had her ass on your face and Somi’s tits screwing an orgasm out of you. This is what wet dreams are made of, except that the white leak doesn’t end up on the fabric of your sheets anymore.

It ends up on Somi’s amazing chest. Any man would die to catch sight of them. They’re round and full, settling at the perfect position whenever she breathes while covered from areola to nipple with your sticky load. Your semen even slides down to her midriff. You’re more convinced that she’s a bodybuilder—for this, it’s more obvious: her abs are hard and firm. You’ve worked out a lot and have not once gotten to that point of solidness.

Your cock can’t say the same.

“I loved it. You?”

“I liked it, and, and I—”

“You want to answer him, brunette-ie?” Somi asks mockingly, swirling white on her collarbone. Yet another wonder to gawk at.

“That doesn’t work for other hair colors,” points out Nancy with a giggle.

“It does when I say so.”

Nancy tilts her head. Her smile suddenly doesn’t look too playful anymore. “Not everything’s gonna go your way tonight, blondie.”

“Is that so?” Somi curls her hair from her shoulders and tilts that pretty little head they hold. “Because if I have to say it again, McDonie, it’s—”

Nancy knows there’s no point arguing with her. It’s not the right occasion today. Fortunately, she has better ways of making Somi shut up.

It’s not completely shutting her up when all it does is make her create more noises. These are more pleasant to the ears in comparison. When Nancy attaches her pretty lips to her best friend’s tit, Somi’s words freeze in midair. You could see all her brattiness melt drop by drop. Her eyes are wide and she lets out a whimper.

If your cock was flaccid already from the raunchy sex (because you started it all off with a bang, literally,) it isn’t now. It perks up hard upon seeing the most beautiful girls you know engaging in such obscene acts. Nancy’s already shown you how talented her mouth is, but she’s only hanging the knowledge out for everyone to see with how she cleans Somi’s right breast of your cum. The nipple she performs on is stiff, and she takes special care in gently guiding her teeth along it.

“Fuck,” Somi says, voice breathy. All those little signs—her breathing shortening whenever Nancy dares to suckle a little bit harsher, bite a little harder; her legs suddenly shaking and weakening—lead you to a conclusion: they’ve done this before. Whether for rehearsal for this moment or for just mere curiosity, it’s hot nevertheless.

“Now will you shut that dirty mouth up?” Nancy uses that exact voice in the classroom, and hearing her use it in this moment makes her sound so much sexier. Gone is the passive prude that she is (or is pretending to be? That voice can’t be birthed from just leadership skills)—she knows how to put a brat in her place.

“If you think,” says Somi, with a laugh that’s too pitchy to be genuine in its sarcasm, “that sucking my boobs’ll make me a good little bitch, then you’re wrong.”

Is Nancy wrong? Probably. Somi’s the most defiant, outspoken girl you know. Nothing has stopped her from getting her way. You bet if Armageddon came into reality and all the world went to shit, Somi would be commanding the demons to get her a pumpkin spice latte and the angels to call her a limo.

“So you don’t want to be good and get on his cock?”

Nancy stands up. You’re once again reminded of the eternally truthful fact that her ass is amazing. She shimmies it on your cock, slipping it between her cheeks but never really allowing penetration, and afterwards starts to bounce her butt beautifully for you.

You can’t help but run your hands all over the perfect fat thing. You lift the cheeks to let them ripple photogenically as they settle down, going as far as well to give her a few spanks. You’re lost in this sex-filled dream. You’re in a coma seeing the too-good-to-be-true ass of Nancy McDonie.

Somi twitches her mouth to one side. “I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t want to feel his big fat cock inside you,” and Nancy’s more dangerous than you think—she takes your cock and starts to tease its head on her lips and asshole, “and really get a taste of how he stretches you out?”

You bite your lip, enjoying what she’s doing to you and Somi. Your other friend has never looked more needy—large, rabbit eyes peer jealously at Nancy getting to have you for herself. Or is it the other way around? The looks she gives Nancy’s drenched pussy and your solid cock are equally full of hunger.

“You want to answer, blondie?” An echoed statement, but it doesn’t lose its effect on Somi.

Nancy smirks. She’s a natural-born leader, often managing to fight her way to be in charge. It isn’t the same for the other, who’s been raised to have everything her heart desires. Right now, seeing you hint to fucking her best friend is making her needy. Really needy. She wants you for herself, too.

Nancy shrugs at Somi’s continued refusal to answer. “Suit yourself,” she says. She twists around to face you and commands, in a loud whisper, “I want it in my ass, oppa.”

“No!” Somi finally breaks. Her cheeks are pink. “I mean, like, not yet. Fine. Whatever, f-fine, I’ll be good. Just let me have him, too.”

“That’s more like it.” Nancy kisses her, a feat that has you blushing regardless of you not being the recipient of that gesture. “He and I can do that later.”

Somi scrambles to her feet the second Nancy leaves your lap. With no hesitation whatsoever, she plops herself down on you, filling herself to the hilt all at once. Her toned back is turned, but you can paint a picture of her face as she moans. Her mouth parts widely to cry out, and you could imagine her staring at the black insides of her eyelids as the wonderful filling results in getting her to see stars.

“Ohhh my god,” she drawls out. Her legs shake. “You were gonna fill your ass with something this big?”

You reach up from behind her to squeeze her tits. You can’t believe your dick had the chance to feel them before you did—they could do a role as stress balls; they’re soft, large, and you’d love to squeeze them any time of the day. Yep, also on the times you aren’t stressed in the first place. That’s how perfect Somi’s alluring breasts are.

Her pussy is the main attraction to all of this, however. She’s obviously so turned on—her wetness is like an avalanche of need on your cock for it floods your shaft without the need for an orgasm. Not that you aren’t gonna give it to her. When her pussy’s this snug and warm, this wet and tight, how are you going to do anything but make her cum?

You start to hump her rabidly. Your hips send her bouncing up and down on your lap, making it so that whatever happens, her starting point and ending point is always your cock. Somi’s moans cut and break into emphasized cries. In your hands, her tits make gravity look so appealing; they bob high in the air and rest heavily into your palms. There’s always a sharp rebound, a sharp cry from her. Her moans just make fucking your school’s signature brat a five-star experience.

“What did I tell you? I’m not a prude,” Nancy replies smugly. She spreads Somi’s legs to the point that she’s technically doing a split on your dick. “I also know how to suck on this little nub right here. Like I did to your big tits, remember?”

At first, Somi doesn’t get what she means. But then Nancy licks quickly at her vulnerable clit, and she understands it fully. “F-fuck, Nancy unnie!” she cries out.

She tenses up in your lap. As an effect, she gets impossibly tighter. You fight it with sharp thrusts, but she always ends up closing around you. You pierce her tightening walls and find that no amount of wetness and slick could get her to part her walls.

“‘Unnie’?” Nancy licks up and down. In the face of it all the run of her voice remains gentle. You splay Somi’s pussy lips to help her out. “You never call me that. Do I have to suck your clit everyday to get you to have some manners?”

Oh, but Somi can’t be taught manners. Just a few licks around and on her bundle of nerves has her forgetting to use a proper inside voice. It’s hopeless when she’s screaming and writhing all over the place. That’s what the combination of your thrusts and her fellow council president’s tongue does to her: it turns her into this crazed nympho just begging to be touched and used.

She’s lucky to have friends like you and Nancy who are willing to be patient in teaching her. Your methods aren’t the most orthodox, you’ll admit—what kind of friend would team up with another in ruining her cunt?

“The princess here needs to learn a lesson, after all,” you whisper in her ear. Your hands on Somi’s wide hips, your fire pumps harshly into her without daring to slip out. Nope, you’re staying inside her forever. “You’re gonna be a good girl, aren’t you, Somi? You’re gonna let us fuck you into being a good girl?”

“You sound so stupid, you know that? Like you came from friggin’ Fifty Shades of Gray or something.” Somi sticks her tongue out at you, then it idly hangs from her lips after you reprimand her with a few scolding thrusts. She begins to whimper, eyes filling with tears of need.

“Tell us to stop then.” You aren’t fazed. You know what that face she makes means too well.

You propel up into her with the force of one who almost hates her to be fucking her like that. You spread her legs wider. Bury your face into her hair because she’s your blondie.

She says nothing.

You toy with her nipples, flicking and pinching them.

She utters not a single word.

Nancy slips her tongue inside for a brief moment, joining you, then places kisses on her inner thighs.

She finally makes a noise, and it’s a couple sounds stringed into whines.

It’s not the childish one she makes whenever she’s refused something as miniscule as a bite of a doughnut, but one of real weakness. She just showed the two of you where her Achilles spots lay. She’s a sucker for this, and all the same, you’re a sucker for her neck and shoulders that always smell of lilies. Take it all in before leaving love bites all over the pale, prone skin.

She takes deep breaths.

Nancy asks her if she’s cumming, and she screams—

“Yes yes yes! Just keep eating me out, Nancy unnie, keep fucking me, oppa! I’m gonna cum so hard!”

Nancy makes a show of licking the underside of your entering and exiting cock all the way up to Somi’s pussy lips. The two of you groan ecstatically. This she repeats until your precum starts to wet Somi’s walls and Somi’s clit is practically quivering from the abuse. It doesn’t stop there. She grabs Somi’s tiny waist and pushes the girl’s core into her mouth.

“Shit, Nancy!” Somi gasps lewdly. The new position gives you ample space to take time in withdrawing then slamming every inch into her aching body. “I’m gonna cum, gonna c-c-cum, please—fuck!”

There she goes. She falters heavily into you as her orgasm takes over.

You caress her rising and falling midriff, suddenly wrapped into the need to help her come down. You kiss the back of her ear and her neck. Whisper sweet everythings there (because you mean each one: you’ll take care of her all the way). Nancy stops eating her and rubs her thigh comfortingly.

Through it all, Somi’s still your baby. The girl you tend to because you know she loses herself sometimes.

This is the calm after the storm. For a moment, it’s all soft. Somi may remain with her pussy filled with your length, but it doesn’t change the tenderness you have for her. For Nancy. For the relationship the three of you have.

“Are you all bright and happy there?”

“Fuck you, of course I am.” That tells you she’s not tapering off lust-induced insanity that much. If she were, though, she’d still maintain that feistiness. “I can’t believe we did that. And I can’t believe you didn’t cum inside me.”

“Safe sex, princess.” Nancy’s back to her serious yet half-joking self. She brushes Somi’s nose playfully. “Didn’t you listen to sir Lars?”

“I’m safe today, though…”

“Hmm. Next time?”

“Next time,” replies Somi with a bit more satisfaction. “For now, I want to see you get your ass fucked.”

Maybe it’s going too fast, like an amateur author’s prodded pacing with a debut novel, but in the flash of the moment you find that you don’t care. You and Nancy share one look and just know tonight is going to be different than all the other ones with hookups, exes, everything. This one runs deeper—it’ll define who you are for the rest of the evening.

Somi sits down at what used to be the headboard of the mattress. She’s good with just watching after the violent orgasm she had. Nancy really went all-out. Must have still been thinking about that speech she made.

Your mind stalls on Nancy right now. She’s on her hands and knees, and she’s looking back at you with this nervous yet crazed desire. It’s written clear on her face. Then there’s the rest of her beautiful body—that back, her full thighs, that ass. You knew she was beautiful with a great body to go with it, but you didn’t really figure it was an unfiltered truth until now.

“I—I brought lube,” she says timidly. She looks away, and it’s so unlike her to be this meek that your instinctive reply is a laugh.

“You came prepared.”

Somi throws you the bottle, and while you lather some of its content on Nancy’s asshole, you’re faced with millions of questions. “I assume you planned this? Or do you just bring lube whenever I’m around?”

Nancy rolls her eyes. God, do you love to make them do that. You were born to. You were made to make her roll her eyes at you between her laughs. “Stud,” she whispers.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She still hasn’t figured out it isn’t derogatory with you. Or with any guy for that matter. You chuckle softly. Love how her hole closes tighter the second you wipe some of the handy liquid on it. “Ready?”

She nods. There’s hesitation, but the upward perk of her ass can’t mean anything else than transparent want.

“Boooring!” Somi yells out, arms in an “X”-sign in front of her. You’re the actors, and she’s the disapproving film critic. And god knows how insufferable film critics are. “Ever heard of porn without plot, you absolute doodooheads?”

“Porn without plot? You read way too much fanfiction, Somi. Like, way too much.”

“Hello? Peepee in the poopoo hole now, if you please.”

You give her a tired look in spite of your small laughs. “Can you make it sound any less sexy?”

“She’s right,” Nancy says in a tiny voice. “I want you now.”

There’s the (with a trademark after that) look again, somber and wide. She needs you. You need her. So why are you stalling? Idiot. You need to put yourself together.

Slip past the defiance of Nancy’s asshole, and curse immediately. It isn’t even halfway in and you’re already close. She’s too tight that it almost beats the tightness of Somi’s pussy. You’re not sure you’re ready for this. Run your hand along Nancy's back and feel the sweat stick to your hand. She’s nervous. In pain. At least, you assume so.

“Need to breathe?”

Nancy winces and nods. “A few seconds.”

It’s hell itself trying not to give in to your instincts and pound away into her ass. It’s just so perfect, the way it trembles and shakes and unintentionally sends vibrations your way. Sends those full cheeks bouncing.

Even in a state of need-to-get-it-together, Nancy still looks her prime. Her hair, all those chestnut locks, sticks to her back as she pants. Her face has never looked prettier. She’s gorgeous as could be, and you realize that it’s these moments—not her beauty pageants where she’s all dolled up by attending stylists, not when she manages a glow-up (when she already is the most beautiful woman you know) weeks before class pictures are taken—that take your breath away. She’s just there, just existing, and you maintain your preposition: down bad.

“Tell me if you lovebirds need to stop,” says Somi. “Because what I’m seeing here is– oh my.”

Nancy starts to fuck herself on you. She wants to do this—Somi’s words are her motivation. Her ass constricts tighter and tighter as you penetrate her, but you make it work. Make it fit. She’s so stretched out but she doesn’t stop. It makes you temporarily heed the idea that a glitching robot is controlling her. The recoil and push of her ass are too rough.

“Fuck,” she whispers, eyes squeezed shut firmly. “Feels so fucking good.”

If you’re making Nancy curse, it’s either really good or really bad. You’re betting on the former. Her ass rotates and circles before you, welcoming her into its depths, and you can’t find your breath again. You must have lost it, lost it somewhere in the atmosphere that smells of sex and sweat.

There isn’t even any foreplay to go by. She simply pushes back and takes every inch of your dick. While you lost hold of your breath, Nancy’s found hers, and puts it to good use with her moans.

“You’re… opening me up so much,” gasps Nancy. She looks back to see that you’re forming a steady reciprocal rhythm that’s starting to gape her hole.

“Should I go slower?” you ask hesitantly. You slip a hand to her mound then settle a thumb over her clit. It throbs, still sensitive from the sucking.

“No, god, no. Go faster. Please.” Her words are broken off like blunt phrases, but you catch on to her meaning. She wants it fast even for the first time.

It’s lucky you took your time rubbing lube on your shaft and her hole. As time goes by, Nancy’s ass only grows tighter. It clings to you, afraid to let go. Her legs shake yet they’re strong enough to push and pull, receiving you into her backside.

The mattress starts to creak. Its old springs are resurrected and the first thing they do is make squeaking sounds. It’s drowned out by the sound of Somi touching herself. Her wet pussy is slick as her finger rubs firmly on her own clit and her mind runs with the idea of her being in Nancy’s place. Her toes are already curled tightly.

Nancy’s words don’t lose their eccentric tone even if she’s being plowed from behind. The broken mirror discarded to the corner reflects her expressions. One minute she’s smiling drunkenly, and the second minute her eyes are dazed, as if she were taken straight out of an 18+ anime magazine. The next minute she’s suddenly gasping for air. No, air isn’t what she needs. Everything that’s essential is hidden right inside your cock, and she’s going to get it.

“Need it, need it, need it.”

She squeezes tighter, and you wince. It feels good. Too good, in fact, that you chase after the feeling with quick pumps.

“H-hah, I know you want to do it,” she says, turning to you. She kisses you and smiles weakly. “So cum in me. Cum in my ass, I need it so fucking bad—”

She interrupts herself with a sharp draw of breath. Your fingers have entered her and are frantically moving, filling her over and over and jabbing at her walls. You take advantage of her sensitivity more than you should, and she loves it.

Nancy cries out. She folds herself over the mattress more, muffling her face in its olden softness. She feels so full. With your cock stuffing her sweaty ass and your fingers wiggling around inside her, there’s only one path this is destined for. But she wants to make the journey last. She doesn’t want it to end too soon.

“P-please, I can’t take it,” she whines. She muffles a scream. It doesn’t help; her next words are shouty. They don’t sound so intimidating when they come out pitchy and needy. “I’m going to cum all over you, for you, just please do the same. Please. Please, oh—”

Perhaps it’s your natural way of catering to whatever Nancy requires, which is to mean what you do everyday, but you end up exploding inside her. She moans happily, and you feel her drip a little as she comes to her climax as well. The little leak grows stronger as you firmly rub her clit. Your thighs soon suffer the damages of her flood.

Whimpering and overstimulated, Nancy’s screams almost make the windows shatter. Through all this, she pounds herself back into you, and you do the same. None of you want this to end.

Be that as it may, nothing lasts forever. It could be that it’s a gift, for when you pull out of your crush and spray the remaining shots of cum onto her beautiful back, you realize you’re stark exhausted.

“Cinnamon rolls, anybody?”

Here’s how it goes after that: the three of you showered and are ready to go rest. You couldn’t try for shower sex, not when all of you are spent. You’ve sprayed and fucked and came too many times to count that it’s for the common good that you take a break.

Bruises litter your jaw but it’s alright. Nothing a little makeover can’t fix. Nancy still worriedly brushes it with a tender finger.

“I swear, Nancy,” you laugh, “I’m fine. You should be worried about yourself.”

Nancy nods obediently, but her eyes still linger on the purple spot.

“God, get a room,” says Somi with a groan, handing you your dessert. Is this her way of aftercare? “Oops, you already did. Silly me.”

You’re all wrapped in comfortable bathrobes. They’re the ones with the really silky fabric, the kind that feels like clouds dropped from heaven and onto you. They settle comfortably on your sore bodies. You go to the roof even with only those “clothes” on. Not one of you cares for decency; considering what you did earlier, it’d be hypocritical to try and salvage some self-respect.

Oh, who minds anyway? Not you three. All you want is some rest.

“Not funny,” Nancy says. She takes a careful bite of her roll, licking her lips with a glare.

“My bad. Should try again the next time we stop fucking.”

You stop chewing. “Wait… so you’re saying we’re doing that again?” you ask, suddenly flustered.

You’re not complaining. It only took a few minutes for you to discover that sex with the duo is the perfect mix of soft and rough. Exactly your kind. Okay, so maybe the rough part outweighs the other, but you aren’t turning back. Your concern is your friendship—would you still see each other as reliable people, or would that be warped by lust?

You’re young. Nothing is permanent—that’s what you’re taught. What if that counts for the relationship you have, too?

“You don’t want to do it?” Somi asks in a voice so small you barely could make out the words.

“No, no, I do.” Scratch the back of your neck. How do you say this without sounding super attached? (You are.) “But… are we still friends? Are we still good with each other?”

Nancy gives you an amused look. “Why wouldn’t we be?” she inquires, genuinely curious.

“I—I thought—”

“Look, we all know what we feel.” Somi takes your hand and presses it to her thigh. Her face portrays a solemn yet caring look. It feels foreign seeing such a serious face on such a spunky girl. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends along the way. You’re still our Frankenstein. We made you.”

“Is the alcohol plus hot choco combo doing something to you or what? Frankenstein is the name of the crea—”

Somi groans and mashes you in the face with her cinnamon roll. “Get outta here with your nerd BS,” she says. She’s smiling, though.

“Get out of here with your own dodo BS, bottle blonde.”

“Dodos are essential knowledge, not some facts about a stupid ass mon—”

“If you two don’t stop,” says Nancy, knowing when a playful fight starts and how to stop it before it does, “you’re both getting out.”

Are these the girls you fucked in that small loft just a few hours prior? They don’t ever change, do they? They might be hot as hell, but they’re still Jeon and McDonie, the girls you’re friends with. Your hearts remain in the places they were before.

But maybe deeper, delving into the core of your chests.

Somi directs her eyes up at the moon floating in the night sky and smiles. You’ve always loved it when she smiles, menacing as it could be sometimes. She looks like a giddy girl who was just taken to a candy store. There’s this pure, sweet grace to it that infectiously makes you grin, too.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” she says dreamily.

“It is,” Nancy agrees. She’s looking cute herself; her cheeks are stuffed with cinnamon rolls.

You look up as well. They’re right. The moon does look prettier tonight. You’re no selenophile, but you swear the large spots of gray and black on its rounded curves make it look more serene. It feels like a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

“Well,” you say, smiling, “I can die happy.”

It was supposed to end like that. You all know what you meant. This was supposed to be a memory you’d keep stowed in the drawers of your minds to look fondly at later in life. But you just had to ruin the moment by suddenly sitting up straight and staring with wide eyes at your hands. What have you done? You can’t believe you could do such a thing.

“H-hey, Nancy…”

“What’s wrong?” Nancy asks.

“You know that quote you said earlier about first impressions?”

“Yeah?”

“And how I said Michael Jordan was smart for saying it?”

“What are you getting at here?”

“I remembered it wrong.” You gulp. “Michael Jackson said it, not Michael Jordan.”

“Are you in your right mind? How could you even think that?” asks Somi, cackling. She almost topples down the roof. “Like, seriously, oppa, are you okay? Are you okay? Are you okay, opp—”

“For fuck’s sake—”

2K notes · View notes

cosmic-waves7 · 9 months

Note

could u write karma with a s/o that doesn’t get into trouble? Kinda like an opposite like they’re still outgoing but the type to never skip and only wanting straight A’s and are kinda sensitive in contrast to him? (🫶🫶ur writing is so cute idk if you still write for karmaa aaa!!😭)

Note: I will NEVER stop writing for karma 😤😤😤

Honestly?

He doesn't even really notice you at first.

Another student in class-E, just like any other.

Obviously that is until you managed to score higher than him in maths during exam season.

It started off as a miniature rivalry, very one-sided might I add.

He'd come to you smirking by the end of the next exam with a mark higher than yours only to be surprised when you smile widley and congratulate him.

Every. Single. Time.

Huh?

You're not supposed to do that, your eyes are supposed to burn with determination and annoyance. You're supposed to snatch that paper from his hands and wipe that stupid smirk off his face.

Clearly not.

Its not even a fake smile, there isn't even a hint of malice in your eyes.

It's almost as if you're happy for him.

You don't even know him, not properly at least.

This really changes perspectives for the assassin so now he's shifted into doing everything in his power for your recognition.

Which doesn't seem to be very hard to gain as he notices that you're a bit popular in class.

Not entirely popular, but if students come up to you they'll only get a sweet greeting every time as if they're a long-time friend of yours.

You're basically Koro-sensei's golden child. Wide sparkling eyes every time you put your hand up in class to you answer his questions, he could weep at how adorable you are.

Everyone comes up to you for anything really.

Help with homework, a quick check in, or just to talk. You're always so easy to talk to, so gentle all the time.

Even Itona will quietly chat with you in a corner.

You're just so...approachable.

In Karma's eyes that's unfair. He needs to catch your attention and now.

Maybe to prove something to himself or just boredom, he doesn't need a reason.

So now he's the one asking for homework help. He can answer the questions in his sleep, you know it too.

He's still gonna play dumb, tap you on the shoulder and muster up his best clueless look.

Even in class, Karma has "coincidentally" managed to switch seats to be your desk partner.

You didn't hear it from me but maybe an octopus-like teacher has something to do with that.

Anyway.

Now that you're basically knee to knee with him in class, this allows karma to charm his way into your every day life.

Constantly stealing away your time with anything he can possibly think of.

He'll do this thing where he just wraps his arms around your shoulders and sultry whine into your ear.

"_____, help me please?"

He'll even throw in a pout.

Nagisa has to pry him off of you.

You don't even ask why he's suddenly around you nearly 24/7, you're just glad to be of help really and though you think he's a bit strange he's quite sweet.

A well known charismatic (possible) sadist, but sweet.

Class trip? He's sitting next to you on the bus.

Getting ice-cream? He already knows your favourite flavour.

Study session? You'll need to work together, being the two top students in class it would only be sensible to partner up for academics. This lead to him coming over a lot and vice versa, need to keep those grades up you know.

Spending the weekend at home? Don't be silly, you're flying to the country of your choice on a whim with a certain red-haired 'friend' of yours.

Having rich absent parents really does come in handy sometimes.

But this whole game is tiring him out.

You've gotten close, yes. He's flustered you plenty, yes. But you haven't confessed to him at all!

It's infuriating.

He wants you to like him at least, because he's teetering on the edge of obsession for you.

Because 'friends' don't hold hands all the time, they don't hug longingly or stay up late thinking of the other.

It'll all click in to place when he just goes red in the face, kisses your cheek once and just spews his feeling out like a flood.

"I like you."

"...Oh."

(⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ )

Coughing, he'll look away and pretend like nothing happened while trying desperately to renew his previous charm.

Just say you like him back, he's already maxed out on embarrassment.

#headcannons #anime #fiction #fluff #assclass x reader #assassination classroom x reader #assassination classroom #karma assassination classroom #karma x reader #karma akabane x reader #hes so babygirl #thank u for ur ask!#this was sitting in my drafts for so long im so sorry 😭

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tqmies · 1 year

Text

Description. You and your friends have a pact, no dating unless you are. This is only fair seeing as you’re highly unlikely to ever get in a relationship, seeing as you tend to brush off every males advances. Unfortunately for you though, Na Jaemin really wants to date your friend, he’ll do anything! Even go as far as pay Lee Haechan, resident playboy, to change your mind about the whole dating thing.

Pairings. Lee Haechan x Female Reader

Genre. Romance, Enemies!(Sorta)To!Lovers, Comedy, Angst

Warnings. Mentions of sex, drinking, kissing, reader and Haechan argue for a bit, crying, etc. Let me know if I missed anything.

Word count. 16K

Note. It's finally done, my baby, my longest fic. Words can't even express how much a roller coaster this was. Please, please leave feedback <3 Thank you for everyone who voted for this haha.

ONE, THEY MAKE EVERYTHING ABOUT THEM.

You laid sprawled on your couch as your friends continued to gossip. This was a normal thing, you’d invite your friends over, have a few drinks and gossip would ensure. You didn’t mind it, truth be told, but there was a reason today was particularly sour.

Na Jaemin, Huang Renjun, and Lee Jeno had crashed your impromptu get together. Well, more like Yeji invited them, bless her heart. But did she really have to? Her explanation was that her and your other friend Chaewon ran into them on campus. From there, they had invited the boys to drink with them.

Sure, you get it, the boys paid for the alcohol. But really? Was it necessary?

They had taken all the attention away, practically commanding the room, and you couldn’t stand it. Of course! Here come’s buff jock Jeno, charming Jaemin, and pretty boy Renjun to steal the spotlight. And you detested all of it.

You and Karina sat with mild scowls on your faces, her’s from her lack of knowing other guests were invited. Being your roommate, she had done little besides change into a fresh pair of sweatpants and t-shirt, not expecting boys to come over. She freaked out for like five minutes after opening the door, you assuring her that she looked fine, but she was peeved for lack of warning anyways.

She took the loss and just decided to sit in self loathing over these boys seeing her without makeup. Doing little to contribute to the conversation, you just twisted the string on your hoodie as they called out your name.

“Do you have any lemons?” Jeno asks, looking over at you. His tone somewhat softer, trying not to piss you off. Even though he was already failing.

You barely even realize its you that he’s addressing, having tuned everyone out. You almost roll your eyes as your face scrunches upon realization of his question. “Why do you need lemons?”

“Jaemin likes his vodka with some lemon juice.” He explains, the other staring at you expectantly before looking between you two.

Of course he does, you just sigh and get off your spot in the couch. Karina follows after you, clinging onto you as a source of warmth. She didn’t want to be left alone without you after all.

“What kind of guy drinks their vodka like that? Be a man!” She mutters, pulling out a cutting board and knife as you open your refrigerator in search of the lemon.

“I don’t even know if we have one.” You say, standing in front of your fridge with your hands on your hips. Digging through the drawers, you pull out the only round object to be found. “We have a lime.”

Karina snorts and grabs it from you, slicing it in half. “It’ll have to do.”

You laugh at her remark as she makes her way back into the living room with the wedges of lime. Karina was your oldest friend, you two meeting in middle school. Attending university and living with her was a no brainer, and it was going really well. During your freshmen year, you two had met Yeji in the library, Karina befriending her after basically living there during exam season. You two welcomed her into your friendship shortly after that. She then introduced you to her desk partner in finance class, which was Chaewon. You guys all clicked and that led to your little found family that you had here.

You hoped these boys didn’t expect to squeeze their way into this sisterhood.

Karina hands Jaemin the lime, shrugging as he looks at it, then back at her. He awkwardly smiles and squeezes it into his drink. Though you can definitely tell he thinks this is the worst thing in the world, well at least he’s polite.

You and Karina go back to practically cuddling on the couch, her head right next to yours as you share a blanket. For the next ten minutes, you two sit in silence showing each other pictures on your phone, to which earns a nod or a hum of agreement.

The others sit on the floor, around your rectangular coffee table, with the bottles all over it. Yeji nudges Chaewon though, tilting her heads towards you two. You guys were usually so loud, had something happened?

Yes, something happened. Boys happened.

“Don’t you guys wanna sit down here?” Chaewon asks, patting the carpeted ground next to her. “And have a drink maybe? I haven’t even seen you two touch your cups.”

Renjun speaks up. “Yeah, you guys should come talk!”

“We,” You begin, gesturing a between you and Karina. “Are talking plenty.”

“How’s the lime, by the way?” Karina speaks up, smirking at Jaemin.

Jaemin just gives a forced smile and a thumbs up, though his drink remains untouched minus a sip. And even that, was a stretch.

Yeji gestures for you two to come sit, giving you two a stern look this time. She definitely was just wondering why you guys were acting so reclusive. She’s adamant, you’ll give her that.

Deciding that, maybe you’ve had enough attitude for one day, you take Chaewon up on her offer, plopping next to her. The spots also next to Renjun, who you deem to be the most bearable of the boys, so its not too bad. Karina sits on the opposite side of Chaewon, sandwiched between her and Yeji. Damn, you should’ve thought of that first.

“So, are you all single, or what?” Jeno asks, pouring himself another shot. He asks only out of genuine curiosity, but you think your demeanor spoke for itself.

You lied, you can never have enough attitude in one singular day.

Yeji nods. “Yeah, for a while now.”

“Can I ask why?” Jaemin asks, taking a sip of his drink. “I find it hard to believe none of you have found anyone you’ve liked here.”

“Why is that hard to believe? I find boys quite insufferable.” You speak, finally letting yourself have a taste of that vodka. The boys turn to you and you smile back sarcastically, having no qualms about what you had said.

“That’s why.” Chaewon sits up, looking at you. “We have this sort of, pact thing.”

“You really wanna get into this now, Chae?” Karina pipes up, knowing how this usually goes.

“A pact?!” Jeno looks confused.

“We have this rule, since we started this year, that we wouldn’t date anyone. You know, to keep our focus on academics and our jobs.” Yeji explains, the boys looking at you like you were all crazy. This was the normal response, shocked and somewhat disappointed looks, not like you cared though.

“So what? Plenty of people do that and still have relationships.”

“We’re just trying to stay as focused as possible.” Karina defends, shooting you a knowing look.

“There is however,” Chaewon starts, putting down her empty glass. “One exception to the rule.”

“Well?” Jaemin asks, leaning closer like a kid waiting to be told an answer.

“Yn is the most responsible one between all of us. If anyone can do both, it’s them. Therefore, if she gets a boyfriend, the rest of us are free to date!”

“That sounds stupid.” Renjun deadpans, and you’d kind of agree. It wasn’t even your idea anyways, they just held you to such a standard that they believed the day you got a boyfriend would be the end to all. Therefore, they placed their bets on staying focused onto you staying single. Normally, you’d be offended, but so far it was shaping up to be true.

“We take this super serious as well.” Yeji nods. “Absolutely no boyfriends unless she has one. It’s just the pact of this friend group.”

“Plus, Yn runs from boys like the plague. So it only seems viable to stake our academic performance on her.” Karina adds on, shooting you a teasing smile.

“Wow thanks guys.” You mumble. “I feel so loved.”

Chaewon rolls her eyes. “You don’t have a boyfriend because you don’t want one. We are just following in your example.”

“So basically, this exception is impossible. Which is why you put it as one?” Renjun tries to follow and all the girls nod in response.

Oh Jaemin was in deep shit now. He knew about you, everyone in the room did. You laughed in the face of anyone who tried to romantically peruse you, not that they wanted to anymore anyways. Last time he heard a boy try to hit on you, it ended horribly for the entire hockey team.

To put it plainly, you were never going to get a boyfriend.

Jaemin wishes he had known about this before he fell head over heels for Chaewon. How could he not? That girl is perfect! But now upon hearing about her absolute refusal to date, this only meant certain rejection for him. He wanted to just be swallowed into your deep shaggy carpet, just let Jeno pry him out with a stick or something. This was just mission impossible, and he was no Tom Cruise.

“So none of you have dated before?” Jaemin asks, hoping he can get a hopeful response out of his crush.

“I had a boyfriend when I met Yn,” Karina starts, face turning sour. “Let’s just say there’s a reason I was down for this agreement.”

“Never had time.” Yeji looks away, clearly embarrassed at sharing her lack of relationships.

“Me neither!” Chaewon agrees, and Jaemin all but deflates. She was absolutely unattainable, as if she wasn’t before, it’s even more amplified now!

“And you?” Renjun asks, giving you a small smile as he tries to include you in the conversation. Though, you're not really having it.

“Doesn’t really matter, does it? It’s not like I’m getting one now.” And with that you decide to find solace in your phone, choosing to ignore the rest of the conversation for the night. If only it was that simple.

TWO, THEY’RE LIARS.

Damn it, after all the kindness (read: not killing him.) you had showed Renjun, he does this to you! He’s around fifteen minutes late, leaving you to awkwardly muddle around the stores front door. Goodness, you look like a loiterer.

You two had struck up an unconventional friendship after meeting again at your favorite burger place. You recognized him, and normally you would’ve walked off and pretended you didn’t know him. But you were caught off guard by his hat, and you just had to know where he got it from. He actually admitted that he crocheted it himself and you practically jumped up. This led to you rambling about how badly you wanted to learn to crochet. So, after exchanging numbers, you two agreed to meet at the craft store to pick up supplies. Afterwards he would help you learn crochet patters and all that good stuff.

But he’s late, and you’re about to discard Renjun as another “Failed Male.” on your list. All in all, it’s a list of males you’ve given a chance to, friendship wise, that had proved you right every single time. (Lee Jeno was on that list.) Renjun’s liar status was slowly creeping up right about now.

Hearing a car door slam, you spot Renjun pushing his hair back from his face, running towards you. He’s in a full on sprint, and he looks apologetic.

The boy in the drivers seat, who you recognize as Mark Lee, offers you a smile and wave. You manage to offer one back, what a weird kid.

Renjun slows as he approaches. He looks stressed as he speaks. “Sorry I’m late, Mark clogged his toilet and he doesn’t have a plunger in his apartment and-”

You cut him off. “Hey, whoa it’s fine. I’ll be honest, I thought you had ditched me, but hearing you were just unclogging toilets made me feel a little better.”

He stifles a laugh and just heads into the store, you following behind. This stores was huge, and with all these materials, you could likely be in here for days. Renjun’s familiar with it though, so he leads you straight to the needles and yarn.

Hm, maybe he’s not so bad after all. For one, he seems helpful with his friends, and he’s spending a chunk of his time hanging out with some random girl. He was alright in your book, and definitely not just because he was helping you.

Grabbing a couple patters and some yarn, Renjun throws it into the cart you’re pushing. Standing before the needles he looks around. “I have no idea what the best needle for a beginner would be.”

You blink, who else would know? “What needle did you start with?”

“My grandma gave it to me, I don’t know the millimeters on it or anything.” He shrugs, grabbing the needle set that looks most like his.

You just agree, not like you had a choice anyways. About fifteen minutes later, you two push the cart into the lengthy line. Renjun had grabbed a few things for himself as well, saying he could never have too much yarn. You started conversing about which pattern to try first when his phone rings.

He shoots you an excuse me, and pulls out his phone, groaning at the sight before answering it. The person on the other end speaks frantically as Renjun tries to keep up with his reponses. “Hello? What? No-”

He’s cut off by the voice on the other side loudly shouting. “Fine! I don’t care, I’m just with Yn so...No! You’re disgusting.”

You watch as he hangs up abruptly, pushing his phone back into his pocket as he sighs. “It was Donghyuck.”

“Who?”

“Haechan,” Renjun clarifies but watches as you still look confused. “Lee Haechan.”

Though your expression remains as you shrug. “Never heard of him.”

“Well,” Renjun starts but waves himself off. “Doesn’t matter, he was calling saying he had a girl over. He’s my roommate, and hes loud.”

You laugh a little. “Try living with Karina.”

“No,” He shakes his head. “Haechan is like living with fifteen Karinas, but they’re all men, and they’re all really horny.”

“Ew?!” You manage, watching how Renjun was dead serious as you laugh at his expense.

“They’re all messy too!”

Before you can comment back, the two of you make your way to an open register as the number is called. The man bags your things and you head out, excited to finally start this intimidating hobby you were interested in.

“So to my place then?” You ask, assuming this Haechan wouldn’t want you around if he’s boning someone. Renjun just groans, “But my patterns are at my place, I wanted to work on one of my projects.”

You don’t know what to say. “We can go pick them up?”

“Then sneak out and hope his fuck buddy doesn’t hear us?” Renjun continues, but the more he thinks about, the more he thinks he can do it. It couldn't be that bad anyways, right? Then he's reminded of his whole mission today. “I’m crocheting a bunny and I really need those patterns.”

You wait for him to continue as he looks like he has more to say. So you offer a simple, “Cute.”

“It’s for a girl,” He resumes, his face heating up slightly as he thinks of her. “I really wanted to finish it as soon as possible, so I could ask her to be my girlfriend. Bunnies are her favorite animal.”

“Awe!” You beam, that was such a cute gesture. Your heart fluttered for something as adorable as that. “Renjun, that’s so sweet!”

“Really? Funny coming from the romance hater.”

You roll your eyes as he kills the mood. You didn’t exactly hate it, it was just something that left you scarred. Something you didn’t care for much anymore. Though, sometimes you can’t suppress the little hopeless romantic in the back of your mind. Renjun doesn’t have to know all that though. “I don’t hate romance, I just find it rather trivial.”

“I find you rather trivial.” Renjun remarks back sarcastically and you can’t help but laugh at how stupid he is. He fake winces as you hit him on the shoulder.

“Let’s get you those patterns loverboy!”

“Don’t call me-” But you slam your car door closed before he can continue. You just wait for him to slide into your passangers seat, unamused expression still present on his face.

He grabs your phone as you hand it to him and inputs his address. “Is this the first time you’ve gone to a guys house?”

“Very funny.” You scoff, facing the road. “I’ll have you know I’ve been to a guys house before.”

“That’s surprising.”

You fight the urge to playfully (kinda) hit him on his arm again. Opting instead to turn up your radio and make the ride without anymore stabs at your love life.

It doesn’t take long for you to arrive there. Renjun was really helpful with directions and where to park, so now all that was left was getting the stuff.

“You want me to go in alone?” Renjun asks, like he can’t believe the girl he’s known for a week doesn’t want to enter his apartment with him. You knew Renjun sure, but you had watched too many crime shows to not be a little cautious.

“Why wouldn’t you?” You ask, genuinely as he frowns.

“Just come grab them with me, I need another set of hands for my yarn too!” Renjun pleads as he continues to beg, you sighing as you give in.

“Fine!” And you turn your car off as you follow behind him slowly. You wish you had more resilience but you just wanted to get back into the warm confines of your room so, who could blame you? You watch as Renjun unlocks his apartment and listens in as he’s met with silence.

“That’s weird-“ Renjun starts but is cut off by a loud moan. You mentally beat yourself up for agreeing to enter with him.

“If I have to hear it, so do you.” Renjun continues as he enters his apartment further, and you just stand still. How could he so calm about this? You weren't a prude or anything, but you'd think you'd die of embarrassment if you came home to your roommate moaning up a storm. “Well come on, the yarns in my room!”

You just stand in disbelief, before hastily walking behind him. You couldn’t believe this. He goes to what you assume is his room and fumbled with the door, only to realize it’s locked.

“Is this not your room?” You tease, eyebrow raising. He gives you a glare as he tries to open his door again, still not budging.

“Of course this is my room. How big of an idiot do you think I am?” Renjun shoots back, and you almost laugh with how quick he is.

“Well..” You pretend to think and he looks halfway offended.

“I don’t remember leaving it locked when," He changes the subject as he trails. A look of realization on his face. "Oh my god.”

“What?” You asked, sure something was dawning on Renjun, but you were lost. He basically freezes in place as he stares at his door knob and the tips of his ears turn red.

You’re both derailed by another chorus of moans striking the air, but this time it’s apparent who’s room they’re coming from. It’s Renjun’s.

“You freaks!” Renjun screams, pounding on the door. “Open this damn door Haechan or I will pull it off the hinges and throw it at your big ass head!”

Once again, you’re quiet in disbelief. Almost managing to stuffer a soft “What?”

“It’s a kink he has. Fucking idiot does this to me even though I told him to stop!" Renjun shouts the last part so that his friend can hear, though he's met with no response. He bangs on the door again, "You're gonna pay for this!"

A laugh comes from inside his room as, who you assume to be Haechan, teases him. "Yeah right, what're you gonna do? Fuck that Yn girl on my bed?"

"You two are fucking on my bed?!" Renjun shrieks, ignoring the dig Haechan took at you. Geez, he sounded like a complete dickhead.

"What? You thought we were on the floor?" Haechan responds, the girl trying, yet failing, to stifle her moans.

"Oh my god, this is the worst day of my life." You whisper, jaw slacked.

"Of your life?!" Renjun yelps, staring blankly at his door. "I'm going to need all new sheets."

You tug on his arm, wanting to sprint out of there. "Lets just go, you can make that bunny another day."

"I'm going to kill him." Renjun groans, pulling back slightly before giving up and treading out of his apartment. You just keep your mouth closed as Renjun's face sours.

"Wanna sleep on my couch?" You offer, knowing you'd want someone to do the same if that had just happened. "I know you're going to have to like.. burn those covers."

"If it's not a big deal," Renjun trails, thinking about it. "Yeah I would."

"Fun!" You clap your hands. "We can have a sleepover! I can do your nails and show you my favorite movie-"

"Please shut up already." He rolls his eyes as he pushes you out of the elevators towards your car as you giggle. "This is going to be a long night."

About ten blocks away lays Na Jaemin, on his couch as he stares at his phone, awaiting another text from Chaewon. The two have been talking a lot recently, albeit on a friendly level, but he's spoken to her enough to know he's definitely whipped.

Jeno, his roommate, walks into the room as he stays glued to his own device. Although he's in a Chaewon induced haze of love, Jaemin notices that odd behavior. Jeno isn't one to be on his phone like that, so what was so interesting? "Who are you texting?"

"Karina." The other responds, eyes not leaving his phone for a second as he takes a seat on the couch opposite of Jaemin.

"Seriously?" Jaemin begins, and Jeno rolls his eyes, knowing what the other is implying. Jaemin sits up slightly, "She's off limits."

"Yeah and so is Chaewon," Jeno pauses, giving the other a dirty look. "But that isn't stopping you."

Jaemin wants to launch the nearest pillow in Jeno's face. "I actually like Chae-"

Jeno interrupts him before he can continue proclaiming his love. "Chill out, it's not even like that. Karina's just texting me about Renjun."

"She's into Renjun?!"

"No!" Jeno responds, annoyed. "He's just crashing on her couch."

"Boring." Jaemin says, refreshing his DM's to see if he missed a reply from his crush yet. Surprise surprise, he didn't. "I'm never going to get a chance with Chaewon, am I?"

Jeno shrugs, finally placing his phone down as he gets to grab a bottled water from the fridge. "There are other girls."

"She isn't just some girl," Jaemin responds, sincere in his words. "I really like her, man."

"Well then do something about it."

And Jaemin just might have to.

THREE, THEY DON'T MIND THEIR BUSINESS.

"So you really did bone?" Lee Haechan stands against your door as you fight the urge to slam it in his face. Your face is showing clear signs of displeasure at this stranger standing at your front door, but if he noticed, he sure wasn't doing anything to brighten your mood. But then again, he's just a guy, what more did you expect from him?

"It's really none of your business." You declare, not backing down. If he wanted an argument, then who were you to refuse?

"Whatever, Renjun will fuck anything that walks." And that statement sounds so funny coming out of the mouth of someone who'll actually fuck anything, according to Renjun. Who was he to slutshame anyways?

"What? Are you self projecting right now?"

Haechan opens his mouth to speak again but you stop him with a glare and a wave of your hand. "Let me just go wake Renjun so you can get off my damn property."

Leaving Haechan at your front door, you shake Renjun awake by his shoulders as he lays. He lays as still as a rock, not reacting to your small "Wake up, Haechan's here to take you home."

Renjun groans in response, stretching as he mutters out a "Tell him to fuck off."

"Good luck with that." You smirk, holding back a laugh. "Don't forget you have to spray your room for bed bugs later."

"You're not funny." Renjun shoots back but ironically lets out a laugh. He's still half asleep as he lazily makes his way to your front door. Yet, upon spotting Haechan, he seems to be wide awake.

"What the hell are you even doing here?!" Renjun all but shouts, "I should beat your ass right here for that stunt you pulled!"

"Stunt?! I was pleasing a girl, something you would know nothing about! Especially if Yn's attitude is any indicator, you must be a bad lay." Haechan cackles, yet the two of you remain anything but amused.

"If you actually payed attention to your friend, you might know he actually has someone he likes." You step in, tired of the comments. "And it's not me."

"So? Doesn't mean he can't sleep with someone else." Haechan furrows his brows at your statement. His eyes widen upon realization of what you're saying. "Awe, you're so naive to think that. It's kind of cute honestly."

"Get out." You say through gritted teeth. Haechan backs up and you watch Renjun step out of your apartment, knowing he had to leave too if you wanted any peace in your own place. "Renjun, you can-"

"No I'd better go, I have to knock this one's head against the wall." He nods, promptly grabbing Haechan by the ear as the other protests. Dragging him away as he leans down, letting out a string of ow's in his wake. You just watch, he deserved it anyways.

"Why have I been seeing Lee Haechan everywhere?!" You exhale, stabbing a fork into your food. You and your friends were having lunch outside on a picnic table on campus, shaded by the strong oak tree's nearby. It's such a beautiful day, but the proximity of an unwanted face makes your mood dampen.

Karina chews her food. "You sure you're not imagining him?"

You put your fork down. "If I was imaging someone, it'd be like.. Song Kang or someone hot! Haechan is like a rodent!"

"Rodent is a little harsh, no?" Yeji scrunches her nose, picking something off of Karina's plate. "He seems nice enough."

"Nice?!" You groan, looking to Karina. "Help me out here."

Karina just shrugs. "I haven't met him."

"And yet he's literally everywhere." You stare blankly at the open grass next to you. There sits Haechan, accompanied by Mark Lee and a boy you don't recognize. They're talking to girls, smiling as Haechan puts his full flirting charms to those poor victims. You pity them.

"Jaemin say's he's funny." Chaewon interjects, like Jaemin's opinion was worth a damn in your book.

Still you vocalize. "Funny doesn't mean he's a good person."

"I just don't get why you hate him so much." Yeji speaks, pointing her spoon at you as she chews.

You roll your eyes before crossing your arms. "If you heard the way he spoke to me, you'd hate him too."

"I don't doubt it." Karina admits, taking a sip from her water bottle. "But I also just think you're beginning to give him way too much attention."

"What?! How?! First, he violates Renjun's bed and makes us listen to those moans. Then, he shows up to my house like a maniac the next morning and then starts insisting we slept together, like it even mattered!" You scoff, the girls listening to your rant. "But not before making several inappropriate comments about me!"

"Since when did you care what a man had to say?" Yeji raises her brows as she awaits your response. She was somewhat right, you usually never gave a man this time of day over simple remarks. But Haechan just managed to get under your skin far more than anyone ever had.

Chaewon jumps in before you can formulate a response back though. Keeping her voice low, as he leans in a hushed tone. "So did you sleep with Renjun?"

"Chaewon!"

"I was just asking-"

"Wait?" Yeji stops, putting her hands down on the table. "Since when are we allowed to sleep with people?"

"What do you mean?" Karina looks at her. "I've had hookups since the agreement, I thought it was just serious relationships out of the question."

"Oh my god. I could've been fucking Changmin from creative writing class, this entire time?!" Yeji asks, mouth agape as she mourns a missed opportunity.

"Yes.." Chaewon trails. "Though, I don't see why you'd want to."

"Hey!" Yeji defends and the two begin bickering. They always had the opposite type in boys, never agreeing on a males attractiveness. So it was safe to say you were used to the silly little arguments.

Chaewon say's something about his short hair while Yeji starts to point out how the other likes 'stick skinny' boys. This then prompts Chaewon to go on a tirade about how 'muscles don't matter."

You're so wrapped up in the two's words that you fail to notice approaching figures in the corner. That is until the girls still and Karina greets, "Hey Mark."

Your head whips around and low and behold, there standing (a little awkwardly) is Mark Lee. You could've sworn just ten seconds ago he was across the field, curse you letting your guard down.

Honestly, Mark isn't all that bad, its the two he's brought with him that are trouble. And as Haechan flashes you a smirk, you really wish they would've stayed across that damn grass.

"Jungwoo! I haven't seen you in a while." Yeji says, the aforementioned boy rubbing his neck in embarrassment.

"I dropped the class we had together." The guy you've learned is named Jungwoo, responds. "I'm an engineering major now."

"No need for British literature there, huh?" Your friend responds back as Jungwoo laughs.

Yet you can't bring yourself to laugh at anything, given how Haechan had made himself comfortable at the table, choosing the seat right in front of you. Great. Haechan figured that this way, he can force you to stare at him, even if it's just for a little bit. Yet, you're looking anywhere but at him right now.

"How's Renjun, baby?" He breaks the silence, and you move to look him in the eyes, a scowl present on your face. You know he's not talking to you like that.

You've never wanted to punch someone so badly. "Doesn't he live with you? And don't call me that."

"Call you what? Baby?" There he goes again.

You really didn't want to deal with this right now, especially since it's like the male had been following you lately. You were being honest, you had truly been seeing him everywhere. The last thing you wanted was any type of interaction with him after finding him in all your favorite spots. The bench outside your building. He was there. The table you sit at in the dining hall. He was there. The craft store you went to with Renjun. Ding ding ding, you guessed it! He was there.

Moving to stand up, you grab the attention of the others. Karina looks at you quizzically. "Where are you going?"

"Away from Haechan." You speak honestly, closing the water bottle you were drinking from.

Yeji turns to you. "What, why? Mark was just inviting us to a party!"

"I'm tired." You say, as politely as you can, thinking of any excuse to not go to this party. You didn't mind parties, they were okay sometimes, but right now you just really wanted to be out of Haechan's general vicinity.

Chaewon peeks behind Yeji. "Come on, why not? Jaemin texted me that he'd drive us home! It could be fun, we could get wasted!"

Yes, because your ideal Friday night involved getting wasted and throwing up so hard you can't remember your own name. That was exactly your scene. "No thanks, I'm gonna sit this one out."

Yeji stands with you. "Everyone's gonna be there! It could be fun!"

They were persistent, as they were persuasive.

"Ok, fine." You really need to learn to stand your ground a little harder.

So that was how you found yourself, a couple hours later, back in the company of the one you swore you despised. It was inevitable that Haechan would be present, this was Mark's party after all. From what you've gathered, the two were close as well as the other boys your friends knew.

Jeno and Jaemin were here, Jaemin sober as he promised while he spoke to Chaewon, and Jeno? Well, if him and Karina making out on the kitchen counter was indication, not so much. Renjun just snickered at that, "That's gross."

You nod in agreement, opting to save your poor eyes from viewing anymore. Renjun is quick to take notice of the lack of drink in your hand though. "You're not drinking? Again?"

"Don't feel like having a hangover tomorrow."

"I'm starting to think you're a party pooper."

"Think?" You pause, as you make eye contact. "You know very well that I'm a party pooper."

"I didn't want to have to say it!"

"Say what?" A voice speaks as you instantly recognize who it is. He's slinging his arms over you and Renjun's shoulders, you being quick to brush it off.

"Can you leave me alone?"

"Why? So you can chat up Renjun? I'm protecting him."

"Only thing Renjun needs protection from is you."

Haechan raises a brow at that. "At least I know how to have a good time, misses sober."

You cringe at his newfound nickname for you. "Get lost."

"Only if you get loose."

That was by far, the weirdest thing a guy has ever said to you at a party. And trust me, you've been told many things at parties before. "Is that a challenge?"

"Depends, you up to it?" Haechan smirks that stupid grin of his.

Renjun's quick to pull on your arm, pulling you back to reality. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

"Okay Lee," You ignore the boy beside you. "I'll bite."

"Save that for the bedroom princess."

You and Renjun both look disgusted at that. "Fuck off, you know what I meant. Meet me at the beer pong table, and we'll see who really gets loose."

It only takes an hour and half for you to regret this weird thing you and Haechan had going. It consisted of matching shots with him, as well as chugging as many beers as he did. You didn't even like beer that much, it was just the competitiveness flowing in you that made you continue to down the fuzzy liquid. You could keep up, you had to, you had to make this idiot eat his words.

But a little voice kept etching in the back of your head, why did you care so much? You barely knew this guy, you didn't even know the simplist thing about him, like his major or favorite color.

Well, then again, you didn't need to know all that to know you wanted to beat him in this imaginary game you're playing. No rules at all, just drinking and drinking, a competition to see who could hold their alcohol, and maybe you were losing.

Stumbling to take a seat on a.. bean bag? You get engulfed as you sink in, mind as heavy as your limbs feel. You barely able to lift your head to look around the room, taking note of a few familiar faces here and there. Chaewon and Yeji are dancing in the crowd, Jaemin and Renjun are cashing out on bets of who'd get the drunkest tonight, and Karina and Jeno are nowhere to be found. Amazing, now you probably couldn't go home. Hopefully you could just crash at Chaewon's.

"Feeling it yet?" Haechan slurs into your ear as he sits on the beanbag to your right. He's well past the point of drunk, likely slightly worse than you, seeing as he was drinking before you had arrived.

"Nope." You lie, barely able to make eye contact with him. Why was it so hot in here? Were you sweating?

Haechan quirks his head to the side. "Liarrr."

You shift your eyes. "You're more wasted than me."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Alright you win." Haechan mumbles, throwing his head back into the seat. "Wanna get out of here?"

"Ew!" You reject, still having half a brain.

"Not like that," He says, words mushing together, and you can tell hes being honest. "Let's go swing on the swing set."

"Mark has a swing set?!" You sit up, practically yelling like it was the greatest discovery ever made.

He matches your energy. "The neighbors do! I'll even push you on it."

You just nod rapidly as you grab his hand and lead him off the bean bag, eyes following curiously as Yeji wonders why the hell you're holding Haechan's hand in yours. You definitely wouldn't remember this tomorrow.

Haechan pushes the patio door open, you two spotting the playground that must've been from years ago. Yet, this didn't detour you as you raced to it, barely able to keep up with the boy beside you.

Not because he was fast, but because you could barely stay on your own two feet without falling over. Haechan helps though, a steady grip on you as he helps you onto the swing.

"Woah!" You yelp, as you almost fall off of it, forgetting to grab the sides.

Haechan's quick to stop you and laughs as you can barely keep your head up. "You're in another world."

You lift your face up slightly, "Yeah? Then you're on another planet."

"Another planet is closer than another world!"

"Aren't they the same thing?"

Haechan's silent for a minute as he thinks. "I don't know."

You laugh, way too loud for your liking, but what did it matter? It was just you and Haechan here, and you could care less what he thought. "You know, you're cooler when you're drunk."

It's quiet for a beat before Haechan puts his hand on his heart, pretending to wince out in pain. "I'm cool all the time"

"Nuh uh," You argue back, childishly. "When we got here, the first thing you did was make fun of me! Then you dragged me into this."

"It's a game! It's fun!" He waves his hands around.

It's truly funny how things worked. A week ago, you didn't even know who Lee Haechan was. And an hour ago, you wouldn't have been caught dead with him alone. Yet, here you were, laughing as you try to keep your grip on the swing as he pushes you. Almost falling off balance a few times, but manages to keep himself up.

The breeze blows from behind you, almost giving you goosebumps with a lack of a jacket. Your mind vaguely begins to wonder what time it was, the pitch blackness of the neighborhood (Minus a few streetlights) throwing you off.

"You're more fun when you drink too." Haechan yells, even though you're directly in front of him. "Not pushing me away and running, or slamming doors in my face!"

"You deserved that!" You giggle as he stops pushing you, sitting on the swing next to you to take a break.

He stares at the stars for a few minutes before he looks at you. You look so cute, even in such dull lighting. Haechan leans in a little closer, to where you can almost smell the alcohol on his breath. "You look really pretty."

You can't help the way your heart quickens, but you shake your head, deducing it to be all the drinks in your system. Sober you would never react this way to Lee Haechan. The man of your nightmares.

Or so you told yourself.

You lean in a bit further, his eyes never leaving yours. "I know."

Haechan's taken aback but before he can reply, his name's being shouted across the back. "Haechan! Are you out here?"

"No!" Haechan yells in response, watching as the shadow of a person approaches them, leaves crunching beneath their feet.

Mark's face falls in relief as he notices you with Haechan. "Man we've been looking everywhere for you. Karina said she couldn't find Yn either."

You stand up from the swing, leaving Haechan sitting by himself. "I should be getting home."

Mark just looks between you two, confusion across his face. Since when had you gotten close with Haechan? He could've sworn you two were arguing earlier, even when you arrived at the party. Was he missing something? "Jaemin will drive you."

"I can drive her." Haechan says, ironically as he nearly tumbles over himself attempting to get on his feet again. He fishes his keys from his pocket and waves them around as Mark snatches them from his grip.

"You're not driving anywhere." Mark rolls his eyes. "Renjun's taking you home too."

And like a dad caring for his children, he leads you both back inside, careful not to let Haechan run off to who knows where. (He had a tendency of doing that.)

"But it's not even midnight!" Haechan protests, with his head down.

"It's two in the morning!" Mark corrects as he shakes his head, grabbing Haechan by the arm. Your eyes widen, was it really that late already? Time flew by weirdly fast with Haechan. Not that you enjoyed it or anything, must've just been the alcohol. Yeah, definitely.

"But I don't wanna leave her." Haechan says, prying himself off of Mark and onto you. Clinging to you like you were best friends. You, not knowing better in your state, hug him back.

"You two look like idiots." Mark comments, trying to separate you guys, the both of you telling him to stop. Your grip on each other tightening with every tug.

"Wait!" Yeji catches up to you, smirking as she pulls her phone out. "Let me take a picture first."

You just hum, drunkenly posing for the photo as Haechan throws a peace sign up. The two of you with stupid smiles on your faces. Idiots, that would be the correct thing to say about you guys now.

"Okay," Renjun approaches, eyes heavy as he just wants to go to sleep right about now. He tries to pull the other off of you, but you tighten your grip as well. "Haechan, let's go!"

He shakes his head and Renjun just about gives up as he throws his hands in the air. "Find your own way home."

Haechan nuzzles into you for about two more minutes before he registers what Renjun said. "Oh no! Renjun's leaving me!"

You just nod and Haechan lets go of you, running towards the front door as he yells a small goodbye to you. You yell back across the house, and he shoots you a thumbs up as he almost trips over the steps leading outside.

You pout slightly as you watch him go, your source of warmth being gone now. Oh well, you start looking around for your roommate, but you spot Jeno in the kitchen alone without her. Where the hell did she go? Didn't matter, you were just going to relax on the couch now.

It would be okay to close your eyes for a minute right?

Well, you closed your eyes for a bit longer than a minute. In fact, when you opened them next, there was sunlight shining through the living room windows.

The headache hits you first, feeling like you had been ran over as your whole body was sore. Likely from the amount of dancing and running you had done. You even vaguely recall going outside. To swing? With Haechan?

You sit up, a little fast for your head, and look around. You spot Chaewon and Karina on the couch across from you, legs intermingled as they hugged, they must've been wasted when they went to sleep too. You can see Yeji's jacket still on the couch, registering the sound of a toilet flushing.

Why was it so loud? You throw your head back on the couch as Yeji enters the living room. "You're up." She whispers, sitting down on the love seat next to you.

"Yeah, where are we?" You groan back.

"Mark's house." She answers back, watching your facial expressions. "Do you really not remember?"

"No." You rub your eyes, the headache still present.

"So you definitely shouldn't check your phone." Yeji laughs, picking your phone up from the ground and throwing it in your lap.

You place your phone beside you. "Why are we at Mark's house?"

Yeji leans back. "Jaemin ended up getting too drunk to drive us. Mark offered to call us an uber but he couldn't find his phone. He tried to find Renjun too but he had already left. Then Mark just gave up and went to bed. Jaemin and Jeno are asleep in the other room."

You barely even process all of that as you just raise your eyebrows , picking up your device. And to your surprise, its full of notifications, yet all from one app.

There, laying on your Instagram dashboard, is a photo of you and a clearly drunk Haechan. He's leaning into your face, the sides of your faces pressed together inside the small frame. He's smiling that stupid little smirk and you're grinning widely. To make matters worse, its accumulated the most likes you've ever seen on your page. There's tons of comments too, most stating how cute you two are. The others commenting that they didn't even think you knew each other. There were a few random ones too, talking about couple goals and how you made the explore page. What?!

Your finger hovers over the button to delete the post, but it is a rather cute picture. Despite the fact that you were going to kill whoever posted it on your page, maybe you'd keep it.

"Who the hell posted me and Haechan?!" You speak, not caring for the volume you were speaking at. It was in fact ten already, hopefully no one would mind too much.

Yeji shushes you, "I don't know-"

"It was Jaemin." Chaewon nods, shifting to get Karina off of her, though the latter doesn't move a bit. But when had Chaewon even woken up?

Your eyes widen, getting up as you're blinded by the need to cuss Jaemin out. Entering the first room you come across, you spot Mark asleep in his bed, Jaemin and Jeno on the floor.

You lean down and smack Jaemin, waking him up as he looks startled. "Mom?"

"No!?" You yell, shaking him by his shoulders. "Why did you post that photo?"

"What photo?"

"Motherfu-"

"He was drunk." Mark sits up, rubbing his eyes, making you feel slightly guilty for waking him too. "Why don't you just delete it?"

"It has a few thousand likes already!"

"You're famous?"

You shake your head. "No, but this means all of his fangirls are going to be at my door this morning after our post made the explore page."

"So what you're saying is," Jaemin pauses, looking at you. "I made you famous? You should be thanking me."

"What the fuck?" You blurt out, "I'm going to strangle you."

Jaemins eyes grow big as you reach towards him, he struggles to avoid your hands. "I just thought it was a cute picture! You guys looked so friendly!"

"Well we're not! I'm not even friends with him!"

"You are after last night." Mark comments, looking around for Jeno's shirt. You had been so distracted that you didn't even notice the half naked boy across the room as he slept. Then you realize Mark's words, you two were friendly last night? You'd rather dive into a dumpster than hang out with Haechan. Well, apparently not?

"I'm going home." You give up. "Sorry for sleeping on your couch Mark."

The latter just shrugs. "Anytime, I don't mind."

What a weird guy.

You locate your keys in a bowl on the kitchen table, promptly placed there with many others after Jaemin had confiscated all your keys. You look over to Karina on the couch and decide you don't want to be the one to wake her, she was usually grumpy when hungover. Eh, Jeno can drive her home.

After grabbing your jacket and making your way to where your car sits, you gape in horror. "Someone vomited on my car?!"

FOUR, THEY CONFUSE BEING FRIENDLY FOR FLIRTING.

This one was one you had seen time and time again. You've experienced it first hand, as well as had to swoop in and save your friends from it. It always goes the same, every time. A boy approaches you, usually meeting for the first time, and takes your friendliness as a sign of being interested.

Like the time Chaewon had to awkwardly explain to the worker at the Van's store that she wasn't giving him her phone number, she just wanted him to look up her loyalty account for points. To which he had insisted that she was smiling at him so much, how could he not think she wanted to give him her number?

Or when Karina and you were at Starbucks and she held the door open for a guy to walk in. He then immediately turned around and asked her for her Instagram so they could talk. Then when she said she wasn't interested, he walked away angrily.

Moral of the story: Men always think you're hitting on them just because you're being nice.

More than half of the time, they're wrong.

This is why you're not friendly.

However, your judgement seems to be impaired when you're drunk. Considering how your attitude with Lee Haechan had died down, he took it as a sign of a new bestfriend. And even worse, he thinks he can flirt with you.

He's even managed to convince himself that you're desperately in love with him, teasing you every time he sees you.

Karina thinks it's hilarious as you complain to her, "He's just naturally flirty."

You roll your eyes. "He thinks I'm in love with him!"

"Maybe you are." She responds and you don a repulsed look on your face.

"Me? In love with Lee Haechan? Never."

"Your adamance on not being in love with him is suspicious."

"How?!" You ask as you continue to finish off the last of the bows that you were crocheting for Renjun's bunny. He had decided last minute that he wanted the bunny to have cute accessories, so he had set you up to the task as a repayment for teaching you how to crochet at all.

"Well for one, you've been spending an awful lot of time with each other." She points out and you hate that she's right. These past few weeks since the party, they boy has been glued to your hip.

"Not voluntarily. He follows me everywhere!" You respond.

"You go to his apartment!"

"Because Renjun lives there." You reason, and it was true. Renjun was a friend, and you were learning something from him. Why wouldn't you be at his apartment? "I don't go to see Haechan!"

"Are you sure?" Karina quirks a brow and you look at her in disgust.

"Yes I'm sure."

"Okay, so what about you leaving that post up?"

"What post?" You feign, knowing full well what she was referring to.

"You're insufferable." She replies. "And in love with Lee Haechan."

You almost throw the needle at her. "Nope. Nuh uh, not in love with him."

"So why is he coming over right now."

"We're going to help Renjun ask his crush out, remember?"

She shakes her head. "I zone you out sometimes."

You scoff. "Worst roommate ever."

"Yeah yeah, heard it all before." She giggles as she continues scrolling through her phone. The door bell rings though, and she decides to do you one and get the door while you put your shoes on.

You immediately hear the voices of the boys as soon as the door opens, both greeting Karina as they enter.

You ignore the small talk though, "How are we feeling, Renjun?"

"Nervous." He responds, deadpanning. He wipes his palms on his jeans, sweaty and all clammy.

"You'll be fine!" You assure him. "She's like in love with you."

"Yup," Haechan agrees. "Just like how Yn is in love with me!"

"Shut up!"

"You didn't even deny it!"

"Gross," Renjun interrupts. "This is about me right now, can we go back to focusing on me?!"

"Yeah, sorry." You respond, knowing Renjun was worried out of his mind. It's all for no reason though, you know his crush returns his feelings. There's nothing to worry about, he shouldn't be so worried.

But, as you thought, he didn't listen to a single thing you said. He had barely even managed to calm his heart when you dropped him off at the restaurant he had invited her to. You and Haechan shoot him a thumbs up, the other muttering some words of encouragement to him, that apparently made him all the more nervous, but at least he was trying.

You remind Renjun to call you when you needed to pick him up, wishing him the best of luck. Though, as Haechan commented, hopefully his crush would be taking him home after this.

You just hit him in his shoulder.

Unfortunately, you never thought about the aftermath of this situation. It seemed normal on paper, two of Renjun's good friends drop him off for a gut wrenching date, offering their support.

Now what? Were you two just supposed to wait around? Should you go back to their apartment? Or should you drop Haechan off and just go home? You underestimated what you were getting yourself into here.

"So?" The male speaks before you can, raising his brows at you. "Got any confessions of your own?"

"Here's one, I think you're annoying."

"See, I already knew that. Not much of a confession." He sticks his tongue out, turning to face you as you keep your eyes on the road. You're quiet as he speaks again. "Well I actually have a confession, if you'd like to hear it."

"I don't, Haechan."

He rolls his eyes as he moves on. "Enough with the Haechan! Call me Donghyuck, like my friends do."

"We're not friends." You maintain, raising your brows.

"Yes we are! You just won't admit it!" He whines, not taking his eyes off you of you. "Doesn't matter, I'm still going to confess."

"Go on." You say, a hint of amusement in your tone. You were actually kind of curious on what he wanted to say.

"I want to take you on a date."

You scoff, of course that was it. "Lot's of other guys want to take me on dates."

"I'm not other guys!" He defends, whining in your ear.

"You're right." You begin, turning to face him back. "You're worse."

He lets out a wail at that. "Look, it doesn't have to be a fancy date or anything! Just let me buy you dinner, or take you to Dave & Busters!"

"Dave & Busters?!" You laugh, did he really take girls there? Not that you minded it but, this was Haechan we were talking about. You didn't take him as the type to take a girl out there on a first date. Huh, the more you know.

"Please," He puts his hands together, with pleading eyes. "Pretty please."

It sounded fun, that you'd admit. But you didn't really want to spend endless energy, and money, trying to win rigged arcade games and claw machines. "How about this? You buy me a pizza and a cinnamon roll from the mall food court and I'll let you think it's a date."

"Then it's a date!" He bats his eyes, smiling ear to ear.

It's been three hours. Three hours of radio silence from you and Haechan. Renjun figures he'll just send a bomb to your house. Nice and prettily wrapped with a bow, noted that it's from him. In this scenario, Haechan is with you as well, and you two just get blown up. To smithereens. Yes, that was a perfect scenario.

Renjun's not even in a bad mood, in fact, he's quite overjoyed that his confession was returned. His (Now) girlfriend beaming as she hugged the knitted animal, saying how Renjun was so romantic and how she felt the same way. He even got to kiss her!

However, this now brings him to an empty apartment, having taken the bus with her so he could walk her home safely. He had thought about just calling you to let you know, but he figured you'd answer later.

Now though, he feels really weird. His roommate is usually blowing up his phone, no matter the situation, yet he hasn't heard a word from him all day. So to say this was odd, was an understatement.

He's barely left to think for long before Haechan literally comes barreling through the door, you following right behind him.

You're both bickering playfully about something, you talking with your hands as Haechan tries to speak louder than you. "I told you that you were going to lose!"

"You cheated!"

Neither of you even greet Renjun, it's like he's not even there, though he's literally standing right in the kitchen. And Renjun can't say he approves of the sight.

You continue on talking. "You're just a sore loser!"

"You were taking basketballs from my side!"

"Well hey to you too," Renjun drags, waving his arm sarcastically. "I'm here, if you hadn't noticed."

"Oh my god, Renjun!" You say, grabbing him by his shoulders. "How did it go? I'm so sorry, this idiot made us go to Dave & Busters after the mall! Then, my phone died and Hyuck left his here and-"

Renjun raises a hand to stop you, getting straight to the point. Trying to hide by how he was slightly caught off guard by you and his friend spending so long together, alone. "I'm fine, she accepted my confession. We're dating now."

You squeal. "Renjun has a girlfriend! Hyuck, Renjun has a girlfriend!"

"Maybe you can stop being so moody all the time now!" Haechan pokes, squeezing the other in a hug. "I'm so proud of you, never thought you'd do it!"

"Well, I believed in you!"

Renjun smiles, "That's great. Actually, can I talk to you for a minute?"

You look confused, realizing that Renjun's looking at you. "Sure, walk me out to my car?"

He nods and Haechan wraps his arms around you, to which you push him off. "Go shower!"

"Aye aye, captain!" He salutes, causing you to giggle, before waving bye to you as Renjun waits. "Text me when you get home!"

You shoot him a thumbs up and turn to head out the door, Renjun following behind you eagerly. You wondered what he was going to talk to you about. Its funny, you felt like a child awaiting a scolding, just a tad bit scared.

He walks slowly next to you for a couple seconds as he closes his door, walking you to his complexes elevator. He looks a little nervous, opting to stare at his shoes as he speaks. "I"m going to ask you something, and I need you to be honest."

"Okay." You answer, a little warily. He was freaking you out with how formal he was being.

"Do you like Haechan?"

You open your mouth. "As a friend, yeah."

He shakes his head. "No, I mean, as in do you have a thing for him?"

"Why would you think that?"

"For starters, you called him Hyuck, twice. And then, you two spent three hours on a date, apparently forgetting about everyone else."

"It wasn't a date."

"Listen to me, he takes all his flings to Dave & Busters, okay? That's kind of his thing, I think it's weird personally, but it's tradition since he did it with his first one." He stops as he tries to figure out how to word things.

You just stare back blankly. Of course you didn't think it was special, he was simply taking you to hang out. It wasn't a date so why wouldn't he take you there?

"I want to know because, I used to be really good friends with this girl a while back. Everything was cool until Haechan got his hands on her, then it turned into this whole mess, and she ended up hating me for it. All because she had tried to get serious with him, and he just hated the thought of tied down."

You lean against the elevator wall. "But why-"

"I'm telling you this because I value our friendship and I don't want you to get hurt. Haechan's my friend, yes, but hes a really shitty guy to be with. I don't want to lose you too, just take this as a warning."

You nod calmly, but your stomach is turning. "Thanks anyways, but I don't like him like that, we're just being friendly."

You were lying straight through your teeth, even if you didn't know it yet.

FIVE, THEY'RE EASY TO FALL IN LOVE WITH?

You hadn't seen, spoken to, or thought of Haechan in a week. (The last one might be a lie, but what is that they say? Fake it 'till you make it?) But you decided to heed your friends warning, maybe you were getting too attached. Goodness knows you can be the type to get too comfortable with someone, not expecting to have the rug pulled out from under you. At least this way you were prepared, right?

What you couldn't avoid, unfortunately, was your friends pestering you about the sudden disconnection from the male. Apparently, Jeno had spread word about it to Karina, and it just fueled her theories.

She had pestered you about six different times this week alone as to why you had been dodging Haechan. You'd always just shrug and say you were busy, but she wasn't buying it. The girl lived with you, she knew something was up.

You had spent less time with Renjun as well, only meeting once at a cafe for lunch, but that could just be attributed to his newly attained girlfriend as well. So you used that as your main excuse for not swinging by the apartment.

Haechan had no idea what he had done, why the radio silence all of a sudden? Had he made you uncomfortable? Did you really not want to go to Dave & Busters? Was something wrong?

Had you found out?

No, threre is no way you could've found out. Jaemin's plan was foolproof, and Jeno was airtight, nothing was going to slip. At least, that was what he hoped.

You're currently sat in Yeji's room, Karina and Chaewon having lost a game of who had to go buy the food. (You had all played rock, paper, scissors for it.)

So the two of you sit cross legged on the floor, sliding beads onto bracelets. Sure, people might deem this a little childish to do at your grown age, but you could truly care less. It was a fun little thing and all of you got to have matching ones, like middle school kids.

Yeji hands you a bucket of letter beads, noting how you nearly finished one side of colored ones. Then she winks, "Who's name is going on it?"

"Mine," You look at her confused. "Who else?"

"Oh, I don't know," She rolls her eyes. "Maybe Haechan's?"

You almost knock over the container. "Not you too!"

"What?!"

"Karina is already up my ass about him! We're just friends." You frown. "There's nothing going on between us."

"Well, I think either you're lying, or you're too dumb to see it. Both are very plausible." She laughs. "I'm just surprised, didn't think he'd be the one to change things."

"He hasn't changed anything." You chide, and you believed it. Somewhat? Everything felt the same, it wasn't like you shot heart eyes at the boy every time he was around. You two just simply got along, in the same way you and Renjun did. Sure, you and him never spent as much time alone as you and Haechan, but that was just 'cause he was so clingy. Surely not because of anything else.

"He's the only boy you don't yell about! I haven't seen you like this since-" Yeji stops herself before she can go on.

You whip your head up, her face guilty as she regrets having opened her mouth. "Since Sunwoo? Is that really what you were going to say?"

She defends, "I didn't mean to!"

"I know," You agree, you choose to stay calm. You know she meant well, she'd never say it to hurt you. "I just don't like to bring him up. That's all."

"But my point still stands."

"And we all know how things ended with Sunwoo. He ended up breaking my heart into tiny little bite sized pieces. Thank you for reminding me exactly why I hate boys again." You go back to your bracelet, trying not to think about your ex-boyfriend.

She sighs, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" You shake her off. "Not your fault he was the world's worst boyfriend."

"I was out of line." She apologizes again, though you're already over it.

"It's alright. Everyone thinks I like Haechan anyways. Even Renjun pulled me away and started going on a spiel of how I need to be careful." You start, not noticing the look Yeji's giving you.

"So, you don't?"

"I don't.." You trail, hating how you're even thinking about it. "I don't know."

She sits up. "Wait a minute-"

"I just enjoy spending time with him." You admit, but you feel like you're about to throw up. You couldn't believe you felt this way. You couldn't afford to, not again. "More than I do with the others anyways. Can we move on?"

Yeji seems reluctant but nods, looking over into her kitchen space. "Jaemin's been spending a lot of time here, broke my favorite mug."

"The one with the cat on it?" You gasp, more worried for the cup than the boy.

"Yes! The one Ryujin made me in her pottery class!"

"I'd kick him out!" Your jaw drops, knowing how Ryujin would've dragged that poor boy across the floor.

She just feigns annoyance. "Chaewon would have a cow! The two are like bestie's now."

"Seem's like you're all teasing the wrong person!" You stick your tongue out.

"Nope, she honors the pact!" Yeji responds, "Like a lot."

"You're all stupid."

"Hey!"

You two are stopped by the sound of the keypad outside beeping as the code buzzes incorrectly. "Open up! Karina's making me carry all the bags!"

"I literally have soda's in both hands!" The other yells as you get up to get the door, Yeji toddling behind you with a half made bracelet in her hand.

The girls barrel in, rushing to place the food down on the counter as you and Yeji itch to get your hands on the bags.

Karina falls into conversation with Yeji over the wait time when you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket. You pull it out to see Haechan calling you? That was weird, he had never really called you. You two barely even texted since you gave him your number last week.

You just excuse yourself and step into Yeji's bedroom, answering the unusual call. "Hello?"

"Finally! Well, where the hell have you been?!" The voice on the other end pesters.

"What? I've been busy." You lie, tightening your grip on the phone.

"I miss you." He blurts out suddenly, the words making your heart drop. Sure, he had said tons of flirty stuff to you before, but now that you were slightly aware of some feelings? Yeah, this was making your heart race. His comment is followed by silence, neither of you speaking.

You manage to collect yourself, putting on your bickering tone. "Shut up."

"I'm serious! Let's do something tomorrow. Just you and I, wanna show you something."

"What could you possibly want to show me?"

"Besides my dick?" Of course he'd never miss an opportunity to make that kind of joke. What was he, fourteen? But you hated how it made you laugh.

"That's fucking gross." You make a fake-vomiting noise.

"No but all jokes aside," He begins again, speaking quieter through your device. "I'll see you here at 5?"

"I don't know," You respond, staring at your shoes as you think about it.

"Well then who knows?"

One day couldn't hurt, right? You'd spend time with him again and realize that you two are just platonic friends. Yeah, everyone wanted to make it so complicated, when it wasn't like that. Surely, you'd feel at ease after confirming things. "See you at five."

"You're ditching us?!" Chaewon's jaw slacks as you shake your head.

"Ditching? I spent all yesterday and this morning with you guys, don't be dramatic." You say as you slip on your shoes.

"For Lee Haechan?!" Karina speaks up, equally as shocked.

"Why are you all so surprised?"

"Because a few months ago, you would've been barking up any tree to get away from him!"

"What does that even mean, Chaewon?"

And the group stills, laughing at what she said. She just leans against the door frame, "Fine, go abandon your friends!"

Yeji pouts before patting the back of a fake-crying Chaewon. "Shame on you."

"I'll be back soon, we all know Karina's going to crash on your couch again anyways." You state, about to open the door.

"Whatever, not my fault you like to sleep toe to toe with Yeji in her bed." She rolls her eyes, referencing to how she had found you this morning. And yes, you were in Yeji's bed, but to say your toes were interlocked? Well..

"Just text us, we were thinking about stopping by Jaemin and Jeno's." Chaewon says, the others nodding their heads.

You shoot them a thumbs up and open the door, not expecting anything that would happen that night.

Haechan throws himself on his couch, groaning as he's lost another round of Super Mario Bros. to you. To make it worse, you're just laughing at his defeat, who even knew you were so competitive? He couldn't complain though, you had warn fair and square, unfortunately.

He pushes his soda towards you, a brand he beamed about for the entire day, saying he had picked it up on a grocery trip. (Your friend had whopped him when he realized Haechan brought home the wrong brand, but Haechan actually grew to like it. Well, considering now he had three cases of it, you guess he had no choice.)

He sees your eyes land on the can, before nudging your shoulder. "Try it."

You deny immediately. "I don't know where your mouth has been."

He gasps dramatically as he places a hand on his heart. "You wanna find out?"

"Get me my own and I'll try it." You ignore him as you give in, to which he salutes you and stalks out of the living room like a soldier. That guy was weird.

But the main thing on your mind right now, was what Haechan could possibly be showing you. You two had done nothing for the past hour besides play video games on his couch. So unless the soda brand - Or the potato chips - were what he wanted to show you, then you had no idea.

He returns with the soda, placing it was a clunk on the table, having no idea of your impending thoughts. "Try it and if you like it, then you can have a case."

"So that's what this is." You laugh as you crack the lid. "You're just trying to dump those cases on me."

"No I'm not!" He denies though he smirks a little.

"So," You begin. "What was it that you wanted to show me?"

"All in due time." He teases, grimacing as he downs another can. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that good things come to those who wait?"

"Didn't anyone tell you I was impatient?"

Haechan laughs, brushing his hair from his eyes. "Let's go."

He gets up from the couch, offering you his hand, to which you take. You don't know why, but you trust Haechan. He could lead you to a trap and you'd follow. But you have no idea why.

As you pester as to where it is that you're going, he just tells you to put your seat belt on and not to ask questions. He keeps his patience though, ignoring your whining about this mystery trip.

He just laughed though, telling you how cute you looked when you were pouting. You just shoved him and rolled your eyes, never admitting how hot your face would grow at the random compliments.

Then suddenly, you two were there.

Haechan wouldn't elaborate on what there was. To you, this just looked like a park in the city. But you could tell, with the way he was looking at the trees, this meant something to him.

You two walk up the trail in silence, you choosing not to say anything as he seems determined to get somewhere. You follow without qualms, admiring how dark it was starting to get around this time.

There were families still out though, couples laughing on benches as they fed ducks, and people walking their dogs. It was such a beautiful sight.

Haechan suddenly turns as you make your way up a hill, grabbing your hand as he points to the grass. "Sit with me."

You nod, sitting cross legged on the ground as Haechan stares out into the view. And you can admit, it's breathtaking.

You can see everyone from there. All the people, all the animals, all the trees, you can see it all. You catch glimpses as the sun sets, the sky painted orange as it illuminates the view below.

"It's so pretty." You comment honestly, thankful for the wind on such a hot day, you had never felt more comfortable.

You know why you do though, and it has a lot to do with the boy beside you. The boy you had only known for a few months, but had managed to wring your heart into a knot, he was right here. He made this moment perfect, he made this what it was.

You regret running away, for that week wasted, when you felt like you belonged with him. Your heart swells, and you wish it would stop, but it doesn't cease, not for a second.

Moment's spent with Haechan, they were never a bore, he was someone who you felt genuinely cared about you. Sure, he might have gotten off on the wrong foot with you, but no one was perfect.

He had a past, but damn it, so did you.

You know why you trusted him so much, why you backed away so fast, why you'd follow him anywhere. You knew it all too well.

You couldn't help it, you were in love with him.

"It's beautiful." He responds, resting his head on your shoulder.

You hum back, "Why did you bring me here?"

He turns towards you. "To do this."

Haechan cups your face, tilts it towards him, and then leans in as your lips meet. You don't move for a minute, taken aback by the sudden action, but when you regain your senses you kiss him back.

He pulls off a little before you grab the nape of his neck and bring him in again. You can't get enough, you love the taste of Lee Haechan, you feel like you could kiss him forever. You want to kiss him forever.

You separate again to breathe for a moment but he's pushing your lips back together, it seems the feeling was mutual.

You know you two look like horny teenagers just making out on a hill, something straight our of a coming-of-age movie. But you couldn't care less, you didn't care about what anyone thought of you. All that mattered right now was the boy in front of you.

And loving someone? It never felt this right.

You walk into your apartment wearing a dopey smile, Karina texting you that they she had went home, and you're thankful because your pillow sounds so good right now.

After the sunset, Haechan had took you to eat at a small diner, then to a little box arcade to pummel you in every shooting game out there. So, for lack of better word, you were exhausted.

You and Haechan didn't talk about the kiss after, he just smiled at you and then told you he liked you. You'd never felt such butterflies in your life, not even with your ex-boyfriend. It was different.

You call out for your roommate when you walk further in, turning on your lights as she responds. "Can you come here for a minute?"

You walk into her room, seeing Yeji and Chaewon on her bed. You giggle at the two. "Need me to help you move them?"

But she's not laughing, serious as she looks at you. "Maybe we should talk in the living room."

Your heart races. Did something bad happen? Was she okay? Were the others okay? Did the boys piss her off? There were a million things running through your heard at the turn of this night. Nevertheless, you follow her out into the living room, sitting with her. "Is everything alright? You're scaring me with how serious you're being."

She looks down at your attempt to lighten the mood. "As you know, we went to see the boy's today."

You nod, scared to speak. You even feel guilty, but you know you did nothing wrong, why did it seem like you were in trouble?

Karina continues, "They started drinking, a lot. But I stayed sober because I'm having breakfast with my mom tomorrow, remember?"

And now, its oddly apparent to you how she seems to be beating around the bush. You lean in, "Did something happen, Karina?"

"Well, Jeno and I were talking in his room, and all of a sudden Jaemin walks in, drunk obviously. Talking about how he won, and the bet's off now. I thought he was talking about sports or that sort of thing, but then he mentions Haechan." She avoids your eyes.

"What are you saying?" You whisper, meekly.

"Long story short, I got out of Jeno that-" She closes her mouth, and you can see her trying to word it, but your patience is running thin. "Jaemin payed Haechan to talk to you."

"What?!" You exclaim, standing up from where you were sitting. No, no that couldn't be right, that couldn't be true. It barely even made any sense. "Why would he do that?"

Karina stands as well, muttering two words. "The pact."

And it clicks in your head.

"He thought if anyone could sweep you off your feet, it'd be Haechan. So he messaged him randomly and set this whole thing up. He figured if the bet was broken, he could get a chance with Chaewon."

"So he," You start, struggling to speak. "Payed Haechan to make me fall in love. For this stupid pact I didn't even ask to be apart of?!"

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea. Once Jeno told me, I told him I never wanted to see him again! And look I know it doesn't even matter because you don't care-" She pauses as she looks at you, stunned at the sight. "Are you crying?"

And you let out another choked sob at that, her rushing to your side immediately. Your tears are flowing as you rub at your eyes, overwhelmed by the emotions taking over you. "Why are you crying?"

"I loved him."

She staggers back. "You.."

"And this happens." You continue to bawl. "This keeps happening, and I don't know why it keeps happening to me!"

Karina pats your hair as she hugs you. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I know! I know, I didn't! So why do boys keep doing this to me?! Why do I keep getting used?!" You cry, the words slipping out. "First you, and now Chaewon. Will no one ever just love me?!"

Karina tightens her hug on you, she knows it hurts, she was there. She held you a year and a half ago when you broke up with Sunwoo. Weeping in her arms as you recalled a text message you had viewed on his phone. How he was only using you to get to Karina. She hated him, she hated his entire being, and she still does.

But you didn't love Sunwoo. No, you liked him a lot but love? That was never there. You cried because he treated you like garbage, not because your heart was broken.

She can practically hear it shattering now.

You want to throw something, anything. You want to stomp into Haechan's apartment and throw shit around, making him hurt the way you are. You feel anger, and you feel hurt.

But what you feel most of all, is fear.

You still don't want to lose him, and that's what hurts the most.

SIX, THEY'RE NOT SO EASY TO HATE

When you were fifteen, you wrote a list. Clear cut and simple, straight to the point. It listed six reasons why you hated boys. And so far, to this day, every word has held true.

Sure, people might sit and laugh about it now. Say how it's outdated and how it's rude to generalize an entire gender because of personal experience, but you'd beg to differ.

You lean your head back against your car seat, sniffling as you sit. It's about twelve in the morning at this point, but you can't bring yourself to feel tired. You don't know what to do, you don't even know where you're going. So you go back to the root of this, the boy you thought you could trust. Huang Renjun.

You typed the name easily, not even expecting him to pick up. You don't know what you're going to say, you were so filled with anger that you could explode.

"Hey, what're you doing up so late?" The soft voice chimes as he picks up, half asleep as he yawns.

You burst into tears. "You were my friend?! How could you do this to me?! I trusted you!"

You can hear him shuffling around as you assume he sits up in his bed. "Hello? What? Yn?"

You grit your teeth. "Don't play stupid now, I found out. Are you happy? I know you set me up!"

"Set you up? Are you drunk right now or-"

"Don't you dare!" You scream into the phone. "What, did they promise you a cut of the money? Or did they tell you-"

"What are you talking about?" He yells back, completely confused. "Who promised me money?"

You start crying even more. "I hate you so much, you're just as fake as Haechan."

"Haechan? What do I have to do with him?"

"Do I have to spell it out for you!? Why won't you just admit you helped Jaemin and Jeno?!" Your voice is horse now from the yelling and your eyes rubbed raw from the crying.

"Yn." He calms, lowering his voice. "Talk to me, what did they do?"

His tone takes you off guard, wasn't he just screaming back at you? "Do you really not know?"

"Know what - Please, you have to help me out here - I don't know anything." He responds, and you want so terribly to believe him. He had your back, he warned you, he probably saw all of this coming.

But boys lie, that you know for certain.

"So you don't know that Jaemin bribed Haechan to get me to break that fucking pact?" You curse, voice low, and you hold your breath for his answer.

"He did what?" Renjun speaks, sighing. "And Haechan went through with it? That's so typical of him, but you know what? I warned you."

"Are you trying to preach to me right now?!" You say, pissed off.

"No- Fuck, I'm so sorry." And you can hear him sit down on his bed. "I swear to you, I didn't know about this. They probably didn't tell me on purpose, please, I can't lose you too."

"Renjun," You speak in the mic. "What am I gonna do now?"

"What do you mean?"

"I liked him a lot."

And the other end is silent.

If Renjun hadn't proved his friendship to you yet, now was definitely his time to show out. Well, judging by how he's literally tearing up the dance floor for your amusement? Yeah, he's gone above and beyond.

You laugh at him from your little booth, sat next to the guy he had brought along, Renjun's girlfriend across from you as she giggles at her boyfriend.

Her name is Heejin, and she practically crushed you with a hug earlier. Telling you all about how shes begged Renjun to meet the girl responsible for making her precious bunny those bows. Also laughing and giggling about how pretty you were, cheeks slightly red.

The boy beside you was Yangyang, a cousin who Renjun was convinced would make you head over heels. ("Hyuck and him are both stupid!" He had said, trying to point out their similiarities. "And both medium ugly, so they have a lot in common! Give him a chance.) But Renjun was mistaken because you didn't want a boy like Haechan, you wanted Haechan. And it stung.

Yangyang was funny though, and he was polite but it had only been a few weeks since you ghosted Haechan. You weren't ready or open to the idea of anyone new just yet. Yangyang didn't seem to mind though, he was just here for a good time, which he seemed to be having as he made you down a matching shot with him.

"Haechan's a total asshole." Heejin suddenly spouts, likely from having too much to drink. "I would've fallen in love with you for free!"

"Right?!" Yangyang shouts over the music. "Wait, who's Haechan?"

You groan, "Thank you, Heejin."

She sits up. "No problem, and I'm glad you came out with us tonight! Renjun said he hadn't seen you in weeks, I almost thought I'd never get to meet you."

"No seriously," Yangyang speaks, looking around. "Who is Haechan?"

"Okay, you're both trashed." You laugh, staring at your unfinished drink, pretending to stir it. Moving, you slip your heels back on.

"Awee, are you leaving?" Heejin pouts, and you shake your head at the sweet girl. "No, I'm just going to pee. Think you'll be okay?"

She just nods and you stand, pulling your too-tight dress down as you make you way through people. What were you even doing here tonight? Karina had basically kicked you into Renjun's car to leave, saying you needed to be out again. But what was the point anyways? You felt like you finally reached your limit about caring about boys anymore, especially one's that weren't Lee Haechan.

Goodness, there you go again. Thinking about the very person who left you like this, who didn't even fight for you or come looking. He knew what he had done, and you hope it eats at him everyday.

But you also hope he's okay. You hope that, maybe just a tiny part of him actually liked you, and that maybe your absence made a small dent in his life.

But you doubt it, not like you knew anyways. You would ask Renjun but they got into a fight, presumably over what he had done to you, and now the two don't even talk anymore. According to your friend, the other just comes home to sleep, busy going who knows where during the day.

Coming back from the bathroom, you find Renjun having returned, coddling his girlfriend as Yangyang watches with a displeased look on his face. You can relate.

Then you realize something, Renjun is drunk. Which means, he's incapable of taking you home. You confirm this as you and Yangyang, the only one's about to stand by themselves, sling Renjun over your shoulders and walk to his car. You grab the keys from his pockets as he protests. "It's fine, take my car and call us an Uber."

"Are you insane?" You ask, trying to ignore the pain in your arms. "Stuff three drunk people in an Uber and hope they make it home? Who do you think I am?"

But you're a bit thankful that Renjun wants to make things easier for you. You were a big girl though, you could handle driving them to his apartment, even if Haechan was there.

Right, you'd be fine.

That's what you keep repeating as you make the drive, unfamiliar with this car, but driving just fine. You can see Renjun and Heejin cuddling in the rear view, Yangyang sat up front as he stares out the window.

"I've been wondering all night," He speaks, taking you off guard. "What's got you all upset? Is it that Haechan that Heejin mentioned?"

You keep your eyes on the road. "It's embarrassing."

"Well, my girlfriend of four years cheated on me." He speaks, causing you to shift in your seat. The confession offbeat, not expecting his openness. "That's why I'm here, I live an hour and half away. But I can't go to my place knowing she's there, I can't stand to be around her."

"I'm really sorry," You say, sincerity in your voice. "You deserve better."

He just shrugs. "That's not even the embarrassing part. I can't be around her because I know I'll take her back, I still love her. Isn't that weird, loving someone after they did you so wrong?"

"It's not weird." You whisper back.

"Renjun's the one who drove me down here himself, he knows I'm weak. He knows I view love irrationally." Yangyang drops his head.

"That's not irrational, we can't help who we love."

He tries to piece things together. "Did Haechan cheat on you too?"

"No," You respond, gripping the wheel. "Well, we weren't even together."

"So you're upset over someone you weren't with? Ditto. I think we've all been there, I guess the only thing left now is if you think he's worth forgiving." And for how much the boy drank, you hated how he seemed so wise.

"I don't know, I think I was more upset that he didn't reach out. It's like he doesn't care, like I'm not worth chasing."

"Maybe he's giving you space." He suggests. "That's what I'd do."

"Do you think your girlfriend's worth forgiving?" You hated cheaters, and you'd personally never forgive one. So depending on Yangyang's response, will deduce how helpful his advice is.

"Fuck no." He laughs, leaning his head back. "But your situation is different, you didn't catch your partner in bed with her neighbor so."

Your eyes grow big as you stammer. "I-"

"Don't," He stops you. "If anyone else tells me they're sorry again, I think i'll throw up."

You nod. "I get it."

"Anyways, you can still save your situation. Just depends if you think he's worth your time." He yawns, just in time for you to approach Renjun's complex.

You stay silent, unbuckling your seat belt. What was all the contemplation even for? He could very well not even be home.

But those words are swallowed when Renjun's front door is opened, the boy you'd been dreading in front of you. He rubs his eyes, muttering how he could hear Yangyang's loud voice from inside the house.

Then he quiets, eyes meeting yours.

And you missed the sight terribly.

Yangyang grabs his cousin from your side, pushing past Haechan with Heejin following.

You just stare Haechan up and down. He looks down, opening his mouth and then closing it instantly. He has a million things he wants to say, but he doubts you want to hear anything from him.

So you talk first. "Why didn't you come after me?"

He stops. "What?"

"You didn't even call!" You throw your hands up. "I would've heard you out! I would've let you explain, but you didn't even send a text!"

He takes in your words with disbelief. "I- I assumed you didn't want to hear from me and-"

"That's right, you assumed! You didn't even try, you were just going to let me go." You hold back your tears as your eyes well up. "I waited for days, sitting by the phone for an explanation, for you to call and apologize. I would've taken it from you, you idiot!"

Haechan moves forward. "I'm more sorry than you could imagine."

"Was it all just a chore to you? Everything, all of it?"

"Listen to me." He shakes his head. "I didn't take the money, okay? I took it initially, but after the first time we met, I backed out. It felt horrible to keep doing that to someone."

"And yet you still kept following me around?!" You say, not understanding.

"That was because I was interested in you." He says without hesitance. "And after I ruined everything, I just couldn't bear to see you hurt. I feel horrible every day, it's been hell without you."

"You should've called." You meek, a tear running down your face.

"I know, I should've done a lot of things differently. I should've been honest with you sooner, I should've came clean."

"You know what the stupidest part of it all is?" You cross your arms, as you wipe at your eyes. "I would've forgiven you."

"I'm-"

"Because I love you." And you cry. God, you hated yourself right now. Crying because of a boy? And even worse, crying because of a boy? One you hadn't even known that long, but that managed to worm his way into your life, but had also caused you such sadness.

But as Haechan wraps his arms around you, whispering that he loves you back, you know he's someone worth forgiving.

EPILOGUE

As mentioned, you had made a list when you were fifteen. Unleashing your wrath among the male population after another one had cut you clean.

The list read as followed,

6 Reasons I hate boys,

1, They make everything about them.

2, They're liar's.

3, They don't mind thier business.

4, They confuse being friendly for flirting.

5, They're easy to fall in love with.

And 6, They're not so easy to hate.

Haechan cackles as you read it out, shaking his head as he stirs his coffee. "That's ridiculous."

"How so?" You place the paper down as you narrow your eyes, "Every single thing here has been proven."

"Well its not about the contents of the list," He begins, grabbing your hand. "To me, that sounds like a list of things you like about boys."

"What?!"

"C'mon, you like that I'm the center of attention. You also like when I lie to you about drama spoilers you see online to spare your feelings. Hm, and you love when I poke my head into you and Yeji's gossip sessions to give my input." He lists, counting on his fingers.

"And if I didn't confuse you for flirting, then I would've thought you hated me this whole time." He winks as you scrunch your nose. "And the last two are pretty self explanatory."

"Whatever," You roll your eyes. "You're the worst."

"But you're still dating me so."

"Against my will."

He mocks you, quirking his head to the side. "I'm going to make a list of things I love about you, but I think it'd be more than 6."

"Eww," You drag, still not used to such a sweet side of Haechan. "Corny!"

"Let me be corny!" He waves. "As long as it gets you into Renjun's bed with me."

"For the last time," You lower your voice, looking around the coffee shop. "We are not having sex in Renjun's bed!"

"He does it to me!"

"Only as revenge! And you guy's barely got on good terms again, do you really want to push it?"

He thinks about it. "Well.."

"Nope, not happening." You dismiss, looking over to the cafe counter. "Now go get me some of those cookies."

"Anything for you, my love."

And even though he's a boy, who hopelessly fits into your list.

You could never hate Lee Haechan.

Taglist: @fairyofshampgyu @lislis80 @jenoteamo @smwhrinthehazehaze @matchahyuck @ohmykwonsoonyoung @emvrd @allu-23

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obsessedwithceleste · 3 months

Text

I Think He Knows

Lorenzo Berkshire x Reader

Summary: I want you, Bless my soul, And I ain’t gotta tell him, I think he knows

word count: 2.8k

A visible shudder escapes you as you pull your thick winter coat closer, the icy winter breeze blowing past mercilessly. The carriages had dropped you and your friends off in Hogsmeade only moments ago, and as you warily eyed the snow and ice covered sidewalks, you really weren’t looking forward to the trek it would be to the Three Broomsticks.

“The sooner we start, the sooner we’ll get there I suppose,” Daphne sighs sidling up next to you, her breath fogging up the air around the two of you. You can only nod in defeat as you wait for the rest of the group to join you.

It had been a rough week. With Christmas right around the corner, exam season was in full swing and it was hitting you hard this year. Quite frankly, all you wanted was a nice, relaxing, warm afternoon with your friends.

“You girls ready to go?” A voice asks, coming to a stop next to you. You look up to see Blaise standing comfortably in nothing but a normal, everyday jumper.

“Blimey Blaise, how are you not freezing?” Daphne asks in what sounds like a combination of utter horror and astonishment.

Blaise furrows his brow at the two of you, shivering in the cold like a pair of popsicles.

“You do both realize that you’re witches, and we learned simple warming charms in third year?” He says, speaking slowly as if talking to small children.

You open your mouth to spew out a self defense, but realizing you had none, you feel your cheeks begin to redden. And not from the cold. You quickly mutter a warming charm, immediately relaxing from the soothing warmth that slowly encapsulates you as Blaise does the same for Daphne before offering her his arm.

“Did everyone else get lost on their way out of the carriages?” Daphne asks, taking Blaise’s arm and extending her neck to look at the carriages behind you with bewilderment.

“Well, Draco said this morning at breakfast that he and Pansy wouldn’t be joining us this afternoon, he’s taking her to Puddifoot’s I think.” Blaise begins, listing your friends off on his fingers. “Matt and Theo are spending the day in detention for hexing that group of Gryffindors yesterday, so that just leaves-“

“I’m here! Sorry, some of the third years weren’t sure how to get to Honeydukes so I had to stop to give them directions,” another voice interrupts, jogging to join your group.

You immediately perk up, hearing the syrupy, sweet voice of Lorenzo Berkshire. Turning slightly, you see the handsome brunette coming to a stop next to you, greeting your small group with a lopsided grin.

“Ah, ever the knight in shining armor, aren’t you Enzo?” Daphne quips, giving Blaise a rather pointed look.

Apparently deciding to ignore the girl’s obvious jab at him, Blaise just sighs and begins pulling her in the direction of the Three Broomsticks. Enzo quickly follows and you pick your way after them, careful to trace Enzo’s footsteps in the snow. After a minute of walking, Enzo seems to realize that you were lagging behind the trio and slows his steps to synchronize with yours.

“You alright love?” He asks, capturing your hand in his and giving it a tight squeeze as the two of you continued your journey.

If not for Enzo’s natural fondness of physical touch, you’d almost think the boy knew of the festering crush you’d recently developed. Luckily for you however, it was not uncommon for Enzo’s hand to find its way to yours, nor was it uncommon for you to be hugged, or even cuddled by the affectionate boy. The boy’s seeming need to shower you with constant attention was just one of the many reasons you wanted to see what was under that cheeky attitude of his. Bless your soul.

You offer a small shrug, pushing the wandering thoughts of your brown haired friend to the side.

“Just had a stressful week I suppose. That transfiguration exam we had yesterday was absolutely brutal. Feels like it just sapped the life out of me,” you tell him, looking down at your intertwined fingers as Enzo begins to softly rub comforting circles on the back of your hand.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” the brunette says, throwing his head back dramatically, “I was up so late studying for that, and I probably still barely passed. Don’t know how I’ve managed to make it this far in that course.”

You nod solemnly in agreement.

“God, Daph and I were so out of it this afternoon, Blaise had to remind us that warming charms exist. Warming charms. Truly humbling.”

Enzo laughs, eyes shining and looking down at you with what almost seems like adoration and you feel your heart skip a beat.

“How much further is it? Seems like we’ve been walking forever.” Daphne asks as the two of you catch up to her and Blaise.

“Broomsticks is right on 16th avenue. Should just be another block,” Enzo replies easily, pointing to the next street over.

“We’ve only been there a thousand times Daph,” you laugh as your group hurries the rest of the way to the small pub.

The bell over the door rings quietly as you enter and you give a small wave to Rosmerta who stands behind the bar. You shuffle over to your usual booth in a quieter section of the pub and slide into the seat. Enzo follows close behind, wrapping an arm around you as his hand finds a comfortable spot to rest on your hip.

The action doesn’t go unnoticed by Daphne who raises a brow, cocking her head at you as if to ask, “did it finally happen?” You give her a small shake of the head, no, as Rosmerta walks over to take your orders.

“And what can I get you lot today?” She asks with a warm smile.

“Just two butter beers for us,” Blaise says, gesturing to himself and Daphne who had made herself comfortable in the nook of his arm.

“And one hot cocoa and a butter beer for us please,” Enzo finishes with his signature grin that could melt anyone’s heart. “Oh, and just a water as well if I could,” he adds.

With a nod, Rosmerta turns to take your order to the bar.

“So. What are everyone’s plans for the holidays? Mother and father are leaving Toria and I at the manor alone again this year and I need someone to live vicariously through.” Daphne says once the older witch is gone.

You grimace feeling sorry for your friend. This was the third year in a row now that her parents had left her and her sister alone for Christmas. While not the most attentive, at least your parents didn’t leave you completely high and dry.

“I think I’m just going home for the holidays, nothing too entirely interesting I’m afraid. Mum will probably be tied up at the ministry all holiday, and father can never be away from his business too long. You know,” you tell her, sure your other friends probably had much grander plans.

“I’m sure it’ll be plenty relaxing. Perhaps you’ll have time to grab lunch with Toria, Pansy, and I one day,” she assures you.

Blaise nods his head. “Mother has decided that she wants to spend her holiday in the sun, so I’m going home to Italy,” he says rolling his eyes. “Mother said she’d love to have you for a visit though,” he adds turning to Daphne. “I’m sure Astoria could come as well so that she isn’t alone. If she isn’t spending her holiday with Matt that is.”

Your eyebrows shoot up at this and you share a knowing look with Enzo. It was commonly known among pure blood families that an invitation to spend the holidays at one’s ancestral home generally meant that the relationship was quite serious. And by the sounds of it, both Greengrass sisters were likely soon to be off the market. A piping hot bit of gossip indeed.

“What about you Enzo? How are you spending your few weeks of freedom?” You ask, just as Rosmerta returns with your tray of drinks.

She carefully sets a hot cocoa down in front of you, whipped cream covered in shiny little chocolate shavings hung deliciously over the sides, before placing a warm, golden drink in front of each of your companions. Before she can forget, she hands Enzo a cold glass, filled to the brim with water.

You watch carefully as his hand closes around the cold glass, fingertips leaving wet prints on the frosty exterior as he raises the glass to his lips. Oh what you would give to know that body as if it were your own. A shiver runs down your spine and you quickly force yourself to snap out of it before you made a fool of yourself.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it freedom,” Enzo says finally, wiping a bit of water from the side of his pretty, pink lips. “Mother and father are determined to find me a suitable partner and refuse to leave me alone. And now they’ve roped aunt Cissy into their schemes. Speaking of which, were you all invited to the Malfoy ball? The Christmas one?” He asks.

Daphne and Blaise both nod their heads. You don’t.

“Really, y/n? I would’ve thought Draco would have insisted you were invited,” Daphne says.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll be just as dull as every other year. You’re not missing much.” Blaise adds.

“You’re right, she won’t be missing anything at all. You can be my date, y/n. I promise I’m a fun time,” he says laying his boyish charm on thick. Not that he needed to with you.

Daphne sends a sly smile your way.

“I’m sure y/n would just love that. And your mum adores her. Remember my mother’s garden party, y/n? You and Mrs. Berkshire chatted for hours. Oh! And you can come with Toria and I to find dresses. You simply must come,” she gushes.

Enzo gives you a dopey smile and you can feel his thumb making long, slow strokes along your hip bone.

“Alright, I suppose I can make time during my very busy and packed holiday,” you say with a light laugh, melting into Enzo’s touch.

Later that evening you find yourself wandering the stacks of books, lining the library shelves as you search for the one book that would help you complete your charms essay. You didn’t mean to listen in on what was clearly meant to be a private conversation. You really didn’t. But something about Enzo’s voice made you feel like a fly trapped in honey.

“Mate, I think she knows,” he whispers furiously to Blaise who sits next to him, looking rather miserable. “I mean I know I’m rather obsessed with her, but I thought I was being subtle.” You hear him say.

Blaise cocks an eyebrow at this.

“You volun-told her that she would be your date. To the Malfoy ball. Immediately after telling her that your parents want you to find a wife. And you thought you were being subtle?” He asks his starry eyed friend.

“Was I not?”

“No you bloody idiot.”

Were they talking about you? Peaking through the shelves, you see Enzo frown in confusion at this.

“Well, how did you tell Daphne you fancied her?” He asks.

Blaise looks like he’s about ready to drown himself in the Black Lake.

“I don’t know mate. I asked her to accompany me to one of Parkinson’s galas I suppose.”

“That’s it? And she just fell in love with you? At one of those boring, stuffy things?”

Before Blaise is able to silently combust, Draco makes his grand appearance, carrying with him a stack of books piled well past the top of his head.

“Ah. Are we talking about wooing Enzo’s future wife, y/n, again? Draco asks, setting down his mountain of books and pulling up a seat next to the other boys.

You feel your cheeks flush bright red at Draco’s words. You were most definitely not meant to hear this conversation.

“You better lock that one down quick mate. She may not stick around. The good ones aren’t too keen on waiting these days. Plus, Pansy might have mentioned the other night that y/n has developed quite the little crush on you too,” Draco tells him rather matter of factly, opening his text book.

Your mouth drops open at this. Pansy! How could she? Actually, you thought to yourself, she is quite the gossip, it really was on you for spilling that to her. Never mind. With a sudden burst of determination and self-resolve, you decide that it’s time to end this little game of will they, won’t they once and for all. You quickly round the corner, easily making your way over to the table occupied by the three boys.

“Thank Rowena,” you say, acting as if you’d just caught sight of the boys. “I cannot find the book I’m looking for anywhere, can one of you help me search?” You ask marching up to them, eyeing Draco’s large stack.

The boys look up at you a bit startled, but Enzo immediately jumps up from his seat, scrambling to get his things in order. Perfect, you smile to yourself. Now to lure him into the maze of bookshelves.

“Course love, what book are we looking for?” He says finally, giving you another dopey grin.

You hear Blaise mutter something under his breath, but choose to ignore it.

“Advanced Charm Work in the second edition,” you tell him, leading him back to the shelves you had previously been lurking in.

“Ah, working on the charms essay, are you?” Enzo asks, eyes roaming the shelves, looking for the elusive tome.

“Mmm. Trying to. But this bloody book is nowhere to be found,” you reply. “I’d ask Pince, but I’m so afraid of her.”

Enzo snorts at that, before nodding his head in agreement. You look in silence for a bit longer before you finally lean against a shelf, eyes gazing over the profile of the boy standing beside you. He’d definitely grown into his boyish features this last year, indigo eyes conveniently distracted in search of your book and an almost lyrical smile gracing his lips. You let your eyes wander lower to his permanently untucked shirt and long slender fingers that you desperately wanted running through your hair.

“Give up?” The sound of his voice jolts you out of your thoughts as you look up to find his dark eyes staring down at you, a smile tugging at his lips.

You shrug your shoulders.

“I saw it in the stack of books that Draco is holding hostage at your table,” you admit as Enzo moves to stand in front of you, trapping you between him and the shelf that was now digging into your back.

Enzo smirks.

“Then what are we doing back here, love?” He asks, bring his arms up, further trapping you between the hands now positioned on each side of your head.

“I think you know,” you murmur, grabbing hold of his tie and giving it a small tug, causing his lips to crash into yours. They were just as soft and warm as you imagined as he moves them expertly against yours, working a small moan out of you.

“Shh love,” he whispers against your lips, before claiming them with his once more. You feel yourself getting lost in his touch, following the sparks erupting in your chest as one of his hands drops to grip tightly around your thigh eliciting another soft moan from your lips.

Enzo pulls away again with a low laugh.

“Needy witch. Why don’t we finish this somewhere a bit more private?” He says breathily, brushing away a stray hair from your face. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do that. I’m going to do it right.”

You smile mischievously. “I mean, if I’m your future wife, I think you have all the time in the world to do it right.”

Enzo’s face immediately reddens.

“How much of that did you hear?”

You shrug innocently, a giggle escaping your lips.

“Enough. But really Enzo? Going to Blaise of all people for romantic advice? That boy is so emotionally constipated.” You say as Enzo begins leading you out of the library.

“Hush love, it worked didn’t it?” He says sticking his tongue out at you playfully.

You’re eyes lock in once again on the pretty set of lips in front of you before flickering up to meet Enzo’s equally heated gaze. Charms essay be damned, you could not wait to get to this boy’s dorm.

#Spotify #harry potter universe #Harry Potter #slytherin #slytherin boys #ravenclaw #ravenclaw reader #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #lorenzo berkshire #theodore nott #matteo riddle #pansy parkinson #daphne greengrass #astoria greengrass #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire x you #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire x reader

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hoshigray · 10 months

Text

My Professor's Final Spring Praise ༄ K. Nanami

"Before my summer break officially started, I had to finish my last in-person exam with Professor Nanami. It was so tough, but I made it through! I was the last to leave, so I thanked the professor and shared some final words before heading to my dorm to finish packing up. However, how do a few gratitude and praise exchanges end up with me on his desk and him between my legs?"

A/n: Yessirrrrrr!! First work of my very first series!! I'm very nervous about this as this is the first time committing to writing consecutively for a specific theme, but I got faith in myself!! Also, it's Nanami and my birthday!!!ヾ( ˃ᴗ˂ )◞ • *✰ So as soon as this is posted, I'm signing off and enjoying my day with my hubby Kento~ (sike I'm not, just gonna hang with friends, lol). But anyways, I hope y'all enjoy this piece, and thank you so very much for 1k followers~~~!!! Not my best work, but it's a decent start for the series! >:D (will proofread l8r tmrw)

Series m. list!! This entry has been updated along w/ its contents.

Cw: professor! Nanami x fem! reader - explicit content so minors DNI - taboo (consensual sex b/w a professor & undergrad) - age difference (the reader is at least in their 20s; Nanami approaching early 30s) - fingering (fem! receiving) - cunnilingus - semi-missionary position (reader lies on their back on a table while Nanami stands) - public sex/sex in a university classroom - unprotected sex (PSA: wrap it up, or get the fuck up) - pining if you squint - praise - pet names (baby, darling, love, sweet pea) - clitoral play (licking and sucking) - kissing/makeout sessions.

Wc: 3.4k

Dear Diary...it's been a long while since I had to come to you as an outlet for my thoughts. But something happened today that caused my mind to go rampant, and I need to rely on you again...

Today is supposed to be the best day of the year. You just finished taking your last in-person exam, you were able to finish packing up all your stuff, and you're now ready to kiss this campus goodbye until the upcoming fall season.

You could not wait to start your summer plans. Not only will you work in the internship you've been hoping to get into since last semester, but you'll finally have ample time to hang with your best friends ever — Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara!

The summer break has been the end goal for the four of you, and now that your finals are finally over, there's no stopping you from enjoying the season to the best you can!

However, as much as you say you're excited, it doesn't correlate to your actual feelings at this point in time. Something happened that altered your entire perception of what the future was supposed to be.

Something so out of the ordinary that you don't know how to properly feel or think about the situation.

Something so out of the ordinary that you turn to a diary to let your thoughts out, alone in your shared dorm room when all the other roommates have left earlier in the week.

Something so completely out of the ordinary that it sends chills down your spine just reminiscing the moment before sitting at this exact desk writing about what transpired earlier.

It all started when I went to my last in-person exam with Yuuji, where everyone else was waiting for the professor...

You and Yuuji had the same Biology class to take care of one of your science credits, and the exam was to take place on the last day of finals week. Although you've been told it's not supposed to be a difficult test — it's a bunch of multiple questions, short answers, and one essay — the exam period starts from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. Three hours of endless testing was enough to put you, Yuuji, and all the other classmates in shambles, embracing guaranteed failures and having no idea how to study.

Luckily, a true saint descended from above to bless you and your peers with a professor who knows what he's doing and is patient enough to lead you to the right path. Your professor, Kento Nanami, was relatively young enough to connect with his fellow students but held a well-mannered and stern cadence that gained the respect and admiration of those around him. He was able to steer you guys into a secure approach to your studying: taking in questions, making study guides for quizzes and midterms, and highlighting significant areas from the textbook throughout the semester that will be shown on today's exam.

So through all the diligent preparation and practical labs you've attended, you feel way more confident with the material than at the start of the semester. Can't say the same for Yuuji, who's more nervous than you (with his three unexcused absences and constantly coming to you for help). But as long as y'all are suffering together, that's all that matters.

The only problem is that the exam is sectioned into three parts — sixty multiple-choice questions that are one point each, ten short answer questions that are also one point each, one mix-and-match portion, and the essay is ten whole points by itself (twenty if you can answer five bonus questions afterward). So, off the bat, everyone understands why three hours are given to complete the exam. But Professor Nanami said, "You all should be fine because it doesn't necessarily have to take you all three hours to complete. So if you finish early, you can get outta here." Say less.

So once you entered the usual classroom with Yuuji, you followed through and sat distant from each other at the same table. The professor came on time as always, instructing the class on where to get the exam on the class website, giving the password to unlock it, and wishing you luck.

The only sounds in the space were people clicking their keyboards, sighs, and groans, and people packing up to leave after submitting their exams before thanking their professor for a great semester. Soon the number of students would thin out, leaving just you and Yuuji still completing your exam.

Yuuji finished at the two-hour mark, releasing an extended sigh of relief before hurriedly stuffing his laptop in his backpack. He goes down to thank and bear hug the professor. And you giggle at the expression of Nanami's dismay because he would've sufficed with a simple handshake like the other students. But that's what makes Yuuji an anomaly to the mass, being exceptionally himself no matter where or who he's with. The salmon-haired boy walks up and wishes you luck, going to his dorm to pack the last of his things and promising to pick you up when you're done.

And then it was just you and him: the professor standing at the podium in front of the classroom, reading a book while you finish the last bonus questions before submitting it on the class site. You sigh heavily, and a massive wave of relief washes over you. You did it. You handled all your exams. You're finally free!

"Finished?" You look for where the voice comes from. The professor looks up from his book at your figure.

You place your laptop in your bag and stand up from your seat. It took you twenty more minutes just to finish compared to Yuuji. "Yup! It wasn't so bad like you said, but I had more trouble with the bonus questions than everything else." You stretch your arms and legs.

Nanami chuckles at your feedback. "I see. I did say the bonus questions would be more lab-based. Good thing those who couldn't make it to some of the labs got to see me so I could help them or assign them with the other students who missed."

"You mean like Yuuji?" You walk up to the podium to be in front of your professor. "Because the poor guy couldn't make it to some of the labs because of club activities."

"Yes, Itadori is one of those students." Nanami smiles at the mention of the salmon-haired other. "He's undoubtedly a hard-working student, asking questions and enjoying the lectures. But that's for when he is in the class."

You chuckle as the subtle shade at your friend. "He does try, though! All the times we've studied together since this exam shows that he wanted to put his whole heart into this class. Not to mention that you're secretly his favorite teacher~." You mention the last part hoping it sparks something in the professor, and you're glad to see that the older man releases a wee chortle at the tiny piece of information.

"Hmm, well, I appreciate his enthusiasm and that he was deeply interested in the class. However," your professor closes his book and walks to the side of the podium, erasing an imaginary barrier between the two of you. "You also play a huge part in his engagement. He's lucky to have a friend like you."

Your brows trench, but a smile creeps past your conscious. "What makes you say that?"

"You've been a particular student in my class. Not only are you an easy grader, but you capture the material so well that Itadori trusts you enough to help him when I'm not available to do so. Anytime you ask me a question, it's always outside the textbook or linked to something you looked into outside the lectures."

The smile on your face grows large, and you look away to shield it from his vision. "Thank you, Professor Nanami."

"I won't be surprised if I check the grades later and see that you got an excellent grade." He removes his glasses and places them on the podium with his book. "I'd also suggest you consider minoring in this field if you'd like. And did you sign up for that scholarship I mentioned to you around two weeks ago?"

"Yes, I filled it out last week."

"Good." He moves a hand to place on your shoulder, and the action takes you aback because it's the first time he's ever touched you. "I expect great things from you, Y/n. I'm sure whatever you want to do in this life, you'll do just fine."

You bashfully nod at his kind words. And you extend your hand up to him to signify a ready handshake. "Thank you, professor. And thank you so much for all your help this semester."

The hand that was on your shoulder grabs hold of your hand. But what happens next was far from what you expected.

Nanami lifts your hand with his and faintly sets his lips on the back of your knuckles.

And this is the provenance of what sets everything in motion.

What he did to your hand didn't just surprise you, but also surprised him. Nanami froze with your hand still in his, not daring to move as you have yet moved an inch.

Why did I do that? It's the biggest question that runs through his mind at this time. One moment he was praising you for being one of his best students, then he busses his lips onto your hand the next. But why?

Nanami knew he was done for. Unable to look into your eyes, he can only tighten his hold on your hand. This was so not part of his routine. Today was supposed to be like any other exam day. He only came here to see his students for one last time before the start of summer break. He only came here to see his final class and have them take the exam before heading home. So why?

Perhaps it was the feelings of spring blinding him like a child. Or maybe his emotions got the better of him. But today was the last day of the semester he'd see his favorite pupil — you. Until now, the professor has done a phenomenal job maintaining an appropriate relationship between teacher and student, keeping a respectable distance while tending to his scholars.

And yet, he still would catch himself sneaking a selfish glance at you following through with his lectures, his heart swooning when you use your lovely voice to ask a question, or going blind when you flash a smile that rivals the sun's beam.

It's never right to have favorites; however, you clearly were the one that caught his attention the most.

Yet, also, this type of relationship is not the best for Nanami or you. You are a student, and he is your teacher. This could damage the reputation of both of you. It's the least favorable outcome between the two of you...

...So why haven't you snatched your hand away from mine yet?

Your hands tighten back with his, and the man finally chooses to look at you.

You're eyes bore into him, looking at him as if he's the only thing meant to have your concentration. Your breathing descends to a slower pace, but the rhythm of your heart beats the more you look at the man before you. "Professor Nanami..." you said his name in a whisper, and God, did it feel so wrong to do such a thing. As if your mouth would be thrown into a pit of flames for even calling to him with an indescribable connotation. Your mind is now fueled with a deep emotion rooted within, rooted with a scary longing.

"Y/n..." It felt even more wrong to have your name hushed in his voice, so hot to the ears that they could melt any second. Even so, a part of you wishes he would repeat it in the same tone again. Expressing the exact feeling of wanting something, wanting you.

Observant brown eyes lock in with your eyes. Faces move forward with hesitance. Eyes close. Noses begin to brush their skins against each other. And pairs of lips seal an unfortunate yet desirable event that cannot be revoked.

It takes a few minutes for you two to melt into each other from the makeout session. It takes a few minutes to block the glass windows with portable whiteboards to block the view from the outside. And it takes a few minutes for you to be a disheveled mess with your back on a table with Nanami between your legs, fingering your throbbing vulva and licking your slick and sensitive clitoris.

"Hoooh...Mmmm, Professor Nanami, your tongue. I-It feels too good—Nnnmph!!"

Nanami flicks his tongue on your sensitive, the cause for you to cry out. "Y/n, I told you. It's just the two of us, so call me by my name."

No, you mustn't. That's taking things too far. But, "K-Kentooo," that name is too tempting to not have seeped through your moans. "Your tongue and fingersss, they're too much!"

His middle and forefinger pull and push inside your gushy walls, prompting more of your sweet cries to fill the blonde man's eardrums. "Is that so? Too much for you? Think you're gonna cum?"

You nod desperately with each question, your cunt clenching around his digits as if you were to snatch them off. But that would be impossible when he's playing with your pussy like a toy. Sweat starts to form on your forehead, your orgasm inching in closer and closer by the second.

And Nanami notices, resulting in him coming to your aid for release. His tongue goes back to lapping around clit, kissing and sucking on the bud while the tempo of his fingers increases.

Your climax hits you hard, having your body twitch and quiver as the inner walls of your slit contract around the digits scraping your velvety texture. You grab tufts of his blond hair, messing up its neat shape. But neither of you cares, too engulfed with each other to worry about the details. Tears form at the end of your eyes as you experience your high, and you try to steady your breathing when your professor withdrawals himself from you.

"Good job, sweet pea. Made a mess on my fingers." He praises you while undoing his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt, revealing his well-defined torso for your eyes to see. But the real prize is when he unzips his pants and pulls down his briefs, his erect cock out in the open for you to marvel at.

But before you could look at it with all its glory, the tip of his dick presses up against your cunt, sliding it up and down to warm you up before entry. The feeling of his shaft grinding on your folds and clit is enough to have chills travel down your spine.

"Alright, love, I'm gonna go slow for you, okay?" His chocolate brown eyes examine your face to give him a response. You nibble on your lip and brace yourself after confirming your cooperation. "If you want me to stop, let me know. So, take some breaths for me."

And with that, the blonde pushes his cock into you with every exhale you take, the twinge of pain making it difficult to focus. Yet you still pull through because you want this so fucking much. There's no turning back now. And when the tip of his cock finally nestles inside your vagina, a choked shriek departs from your lips.

Slowly, Nanami pushes himself into you, every inch of his cock venturing further into your welcoming, throbbing chasm. He brushes up against your sweet spots causing you to jerk up. Nanami coaxes you through it. "It's okay, darling. You're taking me so well."

Tears come streaming down when the base of his cock kisses your folds, your union now solidified. The blonde gives you a moment to get acclimated with his girth inside before he gradually instructs a patient pace of the hips.

"Mmmm, Kento. 'S so good..." You mewl into the air, your face feeling hot and sweaty. The slow rhythm of his ruts is tantalizing, but it feels so good having his length scrape your insides. "Pleaseee, go fasteeer—"

"Want it faster? Nnmmm, damn, I'll go faster, baby." When the moment is right, his thrusts quicken the cadence, provoking more blissful whimpers to fill the silent room.

Your hands find purchase on his back, your legs wrapping around his waist to cage him close to you. And Nanami takes the notion as a signal for him to dial up the speed, thrusting so deep into your pussy with an erratic tempo. Pelvis smacking hard on your slit and tender clit that it has you seeing stars.

"Hmmm, Ahh—Ahhhh! Ohhhh, fucking shit!" The harsh ruts to your lower half keep your ground to the table beneath you, sweat sticking your clothes to your back. The sounds of skin slapping each other are on par with your pornographic noises, having you feel indecent and shameful. But it's too late now.

"Hmmph! Oh, fuck," husky groans exit from Nanami, the man putting his forehead on yours. "You feel so good and tight around me, love. So close to—Ahhhh!! Shit, so close to cumming.."

You swallow the spit that secretes your mouth. "Haaaah, Kentoooo—" your eyes are shut to wholly focus on the commotion beneath you. Your sexes smacking each other, forcing you to clench around him with every thrust of the hips. "I'm about to—Nnnaaahh!! Oh, Jesus, I'm gonna cummm!"

He kisses your forehead. "You want to cum, sweet pea?"

"Yesssss, please, please, pleaseee!!" Begging for your release is all you can do as your mind turns into mush, the familiar sensation crawling back to haunt you.

He hushes your cries with his lips on yours, the final kiss filled with scorching passion while Nanami pistons a few thrusts plunging to your vulva.

Your orgasm washes over you again, and you moan blissfully into the blonde's mouth. Your gushy walls flutter around his member for the last time, coating it with your essence. And Nanami had to be quick not to sink too deep into the feeling, or else he'd spill his release into you. He removed himself from your lips and body, ejaculating his load onto your bare stomach, and you gasped at the contact of his fluids spilling on your exposed skin.

You look up to survey the man before you, and you're met with an image you never thought you'd see. Blonde hair that was once slicked neatly now had messy strands that framed his face beautifully. Sweat covered his sculpted physique, and hooded brown eyes examined your body under him.

Letting the silence calm the both of you down from your aftershocks, Nanami glances at your face and smiles. He brings a hand to cup your cheek, brushing off tears that painted your face.

"Glad to have you this semester. Have a good summer, darling."

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

BAM! BAM!! BAM!!!

An abrupt sound has you stop writing on the entry, bringing you back to the present time.

It sounded like it came from the front door, so you stuff your diary into your bag and exit the room to find out who's causing all the ruckus. When you open the door, the first thing that enters your line of vision is pink hair.

Your friend, Yuuji Itadori.

"Yo!" He greets you. "Ready to go? I called up your phone like four times."

"Oh, you did? Sorry, I must've forgotten to put it back on vibrate after the exam." You move out of the way for Yuuji to enter your dorm, closing the door behind him. "My stuff is in my room. I got two suitcases, a duffel bag, and my backpack."

"Alright then, let's hurry and get out of here! Think we can take the freeway since it's late at night, and traffic should be gone by now."

Yuuji grabs your two suitcases and heads outside to put them inside the trunk of his car. You walk around to check and see if anything is missing or misplaced before heading to your room and grabbing the other bags.

Yet before you leave the space entirely, you grab your diary again and write your final thoughts.

...I don't know what possessed me to let what happened happen. But, at the same time, I don't hate it for happening? I don't know...it was probably the feelings of spring taking over me or the relief that I finished all my exams.

But one thing is for sure; if I wasn't the last person to leave that classroom, none of that would've happened. I wouldn't have experienced that new side of Professor Nanami.

And as long as this keeps between me and him, then I'm kinda glad that it happened.

961 notes · View notes

judebelle · 5 months

Note

Comforting gavi bc of his injury 🥹

it'll be okay - p.g. x reader

a/n : couldn't find a gif of him in the spain vs georgia match but gavi get well soon!

cw : fluff, angst, pablo in pain, injury, poor medical references, me using my limited knowledge of acl injuries lmao, reader not knowing how to comfort him, swearing, barely edited

wc : 1.6k

pairing : pablo gavi x fem!reader

---

the one game.

the one game you couldn't make it to was the one game that you needed to be at the most.

your boyfriend, pablo gavi, was playing for spain in a euro qualifier. you had an exam that day, so you couldn't be there to support him.

"no te preocupes, baby. good luck on your exam." (don't worry, baby. good luck on your exam.)

that was the last text your boyfriend sent you after you apologized again for not being there for him, even though you were already right outside your exam room.

with his reassurance, you stepped into the room and tried your best on the exam.

you weren't sure as to why pablo had to start for this match. spain had already qualified and he was already overworked as it was, but you didn't question his coach and managers and just brushed it under the rug.

unbeknownst to you, pablo had suffered an injury during the match. as you completed your exam, unaware of the events unfolding on the field, pablo battled through the game with determination. eventually, the fatigue took its toll, and he found himself nursing an injury that would later reveal itself as a full tear of his acl as well as an associated injury to his lateral meniscus.

your absence from the game meant that the news of his injury remained hidden from you, leaving you unsuspecting of the challenges he faced without your support.

you exited the exam hall, confident that your relentless studying had paid off. you opened your phone, intending to message pablo about your exam. you completely forgot about his match until you saw a ridiculous amount of notifications on your lock screen. as you scrolled, your heart sank upon discovering the news. shock and concern shook you as you read the details of your boyfriend's injury.

many reports outlined the severity of the situation, describing how pablo had most likely torn his acl during the match. a wave of guilt and empathy washed over you as you absorbed the gravity of the news. instantly, you dialed pablo's number, desperate to speak with him.

your heart sank at the monotone beeps that met your ear. stupid idea, he wasn't going to pick up the phone when his whole fucking knee was messed up. you realized that you were too far from the stadium to rush over there, so you sent him a few texts notifying him of your knowledge of the situation and made your way to your shared home.

---

you knew that there was not much you could do in terms of helping with the injury. all you knew was that pablo will be gutted when he gets back. you weren't an expert, but you saw the clip of the injury and the tears that spilled from his eyes. this was a serious injury and he would have to sacrifice a good chunk of the season recovering.

that's when a guilty feeling settled in your chest. you would've no doubt, skipped your exam to be there had you miraculously known what was in store for him. maybe if you were in the stands, you would've been able to see if he was okay and talk to him.

as you entered the house, you hurriedly kicked off your shoes and washed your hands, getting the house as comfortable for him as possible. you fixed up the bed, put a few ice packs in the freezer, and started making his comfort foods.

being an athlete means that pablo is always on a pretty strict diet, but you snuck in a few treats in his bed side drawer because you knew he'd need them.

after what seemed like an eternity of waiting and anxious preparing, you finally heard buzzing from your phone.

"hello? pablo?"

you heard a pained grunt and some shuffling before he strained out,

"y/n.."

"oh, thank god you're okay! what's happening? any updates yet? when are you coming home?"

pablo interrupted your rambling with a soft laugh, almost forced, before speaking. "despacio, mi amor," (slowly, my love.)

you pause your tangent, freezing in place and waiting for him to say something. you're about to start speaking again when you hear the front door start to open pablo's voice on the phone.

"i'm home."

---

two men walked beside him in case he needed assistance walking through the front door, but he was more than capable on his crutches. you dropped the phone from your hand as you saw pablo walking in from your place in the kitchen. you rushed over and he sent you a tight lipped smile. he told the two men that they're good to leave, and they did.

you finally walked closer to him, wanting to throw yourself onto him but stopping once you remembered his condition. you huffed in annoyance before ultimately pushing your lips against his fiercely, but not too hard.

he kissed back, but couldn't wrap his arms around you as he needed to hold his crutches to stand. you broke away and looked down at his knee. he was wearing a grey tracksuit, but you could see something under his pants on his left knee, most likely a brace of some sort.

"pablo, you have no idea how confused i am.. what happened? tell me everything!" you led him to the kitchen while walking beside him incase he needed help. he begins to fill you in on how he was challenged during the match and he didn't quite turn right, and his knee was already hurting from the beginning of the match, but they told him to play on.

"they ran some tests. i don't know what the results are yet, but they're quite sure that i completely tore my acl and injured my meniscus. if they're right.. i could be out for around nine months. my season is done.."

you had no idea what exact muscles and tissues and bones pablo was naming, but yo knew that acl injuries were no joke, and needed to be taken seriously. also knowing pablo, he plays passionately and has had a great season so far. the fact that it's being cut short is not fair to him.

nothing is.

"ai.." you hissed sympathetically "well, i don't know much about acl's, but i do know that you need to rest properly. and you being the stubborn man that you are, i will be here to make sure you do exactly that, okay?"

you didn't give him time to respond before placing some plates and bowls on a tray and taking them upstairs, telling pablo to stay put. you hurried back downstairs before helping up the stairs, letting him use the crutches as well.

after a few minutes, he was upstairs and into bed. you sat beside him on the bed, his head turning when he felt it dip.

"i smell food.." he smiles sheepishly as you giggled. he must've been hungry after the match. you lifted the tray from the table beside you and placed it beside him. you placed a pillow under his head, making sure he was sitting slightly upright.

you sat crisscrossed beside him and took a spoonful of a soup you made him, blowing lightly as you smiled at him. he was waiting patiently while looking up at you. you brought the spoon to his lips and tilted so he could sip. you did this until the bowl was empty.

pablo, once again being the stubborn man he is, tried to tell you that he didn't need all the fuss, and that you could relax. well, you were even more stubborn. you let him sip water through a straw before turning on his favorite show on low volume on the tv.

"baby, i don't need all this-"

"shh, just relax, cariño. let me take care of you.."

you layed beside him and moved his head to lay slightly on your chest, his eyes still fixed on the sreen.

you had propped up his right leg, under a spare pillow, making sure to keep an eye on it. the doctors would be doing frequent visits and you were determined to make his healing process as smooth as possible.

"you really are an angel, you know that, y/n?" he looked up at you, the glare from the tv shining in his brown eyes.

"you've only told me that a hundred times, guapo." you leaned down to place a soft kiss on his forehead.

he hummed softly at the contact, needing the relief.

"i just... i wish i didn't have to miss the whole season. i was doing really well.. it's not fair."

"i know it isn't, pablo. if you ask me, you shouldn't have been starting that match. you need your rest, you're still young."

he huffed in annoyance, letting out all his frustration.

the room fell silent, the faint sounds of the show you had turned on filling the air.

"y/n..?" he whispered gently. he sounded nervous.

you hummed in response.

"what if - when i return - i'm not in the same shape that i was.. what if i can't play well anymore?"

his words broke your heart. he shouldn't have to worry about this at his age. you sighed softly, your hand running through his soft locks. his eyes fluttered shut. he always liked when you did that.

"you won't have to worry, baby. as long as you rest properly, and take it easy, you will be fine. the more you worry, the worse it will get. just.. just let me take care of you. everything will be okay. it will fall into place."

his lips stretched into a soft smile, your words calming him. your hand was still running through his hair, making pablo's adam's apple bob up and down.

"i love you." he whispered, his eyes opening to look into your eyes as he said it.

you bit your lip and smiled softly.

he looked so cute.

"i love you too."

you pressed your lips to his again before leaning into each others warmth.

you both drifted off to sleep.

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skamenglishsubs · 10 days

Text

Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 3, Episode 4

Last episode ended with Simon coming home to a smashed window, this episode starts the morning after, Simon takes the bus to school, while Wilhelm is anxiously waiting for him.

Culture: At a high school level in Sweden, there's national tests in Swedish, English, and Math. Like everywhere else, the purpose of these tests is not only to grade students, but to align all schools across the country to combat grade inflation.

Blink and you miss it: Vincent is trying to cheat by looking at Nils' answers.

Blink and you miss it: Vincent draws a dick in the gravel while waiting for the others to be done with the test.

Subtext: This entire episode is overflowing with examples of privilege. For Vincent, and many other rich kids like him, studying and learning doesn't matter, they'll graduate regardless, so he doesn't care about the exam, he only cares about the graduation party.

Cinematography: Even with Felice and friends being completely blurred out in the background, you can still see Stella and Fredrika turning to look at Sara, and then turning their backs on her.

Culture: In the US, a lot of people are using "socialism" as a catch-all phrase which means politics they don't agree with, regardless of its actual ideology. Likewise, in Sweden, a lot of people use "communist" in the same way about generally left-wing politics, which is what Vincent is doing here.

Subtext: Wilhelm asks Simon if he can reconcile the conflict of dating a royal while being anti-monarchy, but the real question is of course if Wilhelm can reconcile the conflict in himself.

Subtext: This is where the show's political stance shines through, and this argument, that Wilhelm wasn't allowed to choose his life for himself, is the main argument they're gonna use in the finale.

Subtext: Wilhelm is weakly defending the monarchy, but just ends up repeating what his mother told him; it's a privilege, not a punishment, but does he believe it himself?

Subtext: The letter-to-yourself plot is mainly there in order to help August along his redemption arc, but here the show is using it to reinforce the point of the previous scene. Who does Wilhelm want to become? Does he have a choice?

Culture: In Sweden, Säkerhetspolisen, SÄPO, is the government agency in charge of national security, which includes providing security and assigning bodyguards to the royal family.

Subtext: Note the great use of passive voice here by Farima to avoid taking responsibility for the decision to force August to join the birthday foundation event. She's also expertly bargaining with Wilhelm to get what she wants.

Subtext: We know it was the far-right assholes who posted comments to Simon's videos a couple of episodes ago.

Blink and you miss it: Jan-Olof really perks up when Linda talks about moving to Gothenburg, because that would probably mean the end to the relationship between Wilhelm and Simon, which would solve all of his current problems.

Subtext: Like Farima, he bargains with Linda and Simon to get what he wants, for Simon to stop posting things to social media. It's almost as if their strategy was to do nothing at the start, waiting for things to blow up so they could swoop in, help out, and start making demands in exchange...

Blink and you miss it: The option to inactivate and hide your social media account is right there, but of course Simon has to choose to delete everything, because it will cause more drama and anguish.

Blink and you miss it: Fencing! Woohoo! I did fencing for five years as a kid until 8th grade or something, but I only did foil, and not épée like these students. I have absolutely no idea where these two are coming from or going to though, where would they practice? Is there a hidden fencing hall somewhere on the grounds that we haven't seen yet? How many kids at Hillerska are fencing? Also, he's carrying a practice blade and not an electric competition blade, so that checks out. Of the three types of modern fencing, épée is unique in that the entire body counts as a valid target, while in foil only the torso counts, and in sabre only the upper half counts. Oh wow, it looks like the gear is now wireless and every fencer carries their own indicator lights. Cool! Back in my day you had to be strapped in with a cord for competitions.

This tumblr is now about French School fencing. Allez! Touché!

Subtext: The narrative is that it's perfectly ok for the crown prince to be gay, as long as he's not gay gay.

Culture: The show keeps saying this, but in real world Sweden it's no longer the case. Supporting los jibbities is viewed as a completely mainstream and inoffensive opinion, on par with supporting human rights in general.

Subtext: Another example of privilege is being in a position to do a lot of good, and then just not caring about it. Simon is fighting for the causes he believes in, so seeing Wilhelm just casually throw it away is extremely disappointing for him.

Subtext: Unlike Vincent, August is actually a natural leader, someone people listen to, which is why he manages to quiet down the room when Vincent is unable to. Maybe a good quality in a future king?

Subtext: Simon is continuing the argument from before. Wilhelm could have shown solidarity with mental health causes or LGBT causes, but chose not to. However, he immediately decided to join in solidarity with the other rich kids protesting the school rules, which is rather selfish.

Subtext: Colour theory! Sara in purple, because part of the reason she's back at school is that August asked her to? And Simon in yellow, because he sure isn't loving Wilhelm very much right now.

Subtext: Just a reminder that Sara has actually been completely out of the loop since the end of season 2. She has no idea about the school rules, what's happened at home, how it's going with Simon and Wilhelm, or what's happening at school.

Blink and you miss it: Fredrika is so close to stop striking as soon as she's threatened with repercussions.

Subtext: I keep hammering this point home: The culture is in the walls, it's not something some of the kids made up. The visiting alumni were also hazed as new students and kept it going as third years. Same for the parents of all these kids. They're all part of the system, they all kept the cycles of abuse going, because they want the school to be like that.

Subtext: Privilege is thinking you can get things your way with almost no effort. None of these kids have ever struggled or protested something for real and then not been given what they wanted, so they seriously believed they'd win immediately.

Subtext: Another theme of this season is bringing secrets out in the open. We've all seen August struggling with body dysmorphia and an eating disorder since season 1, but no-one has ever called it out and put words on it, until Simon immediately recognizes it and calls it out.

Subtext: ...while the rich kids are just stuck in denial, because eating disorders is for poor people or something, it's not something that happens to them. And if it did, you certainly wouldn't admit it to anyone else.

Subtext: August tries to jokingly fend off Nils because he doesn't want anyone to know that the letter actually meant something to him, until Nils pushes too hard, and August punches him.

Subtext: Vincent talked a big game about striking in solidarity, but when they're caught as hilariously unprepared as they are, they're not pooling their resources in solidarity with each other, and instead resort to selling them to the highest bidder. Capitalism in a nutshell, illustrated perfectly by the behaviour of spoiled rich kids. Also, pet peeve, the English word for the currency of Sweden is "kronor", not "crowns".

Lost in translation: They're actually repeating a single word in Swedish, "svikare", which is pretty hard to translate. The verb, "svika", is a bit worse than letting someone down, but not as bad as betraying someone. The adjective, "besviken" typically means disappointed. So "svikare" means a person who is letting other people down, disappointing them, or betraying them.

Subtext: The culture is in the walls of the place, but the kids are also pretty damn complicit in continuing all the shitty traditions. This looks like a game of strip poker or truth or dare that went off the rails and just resulted in more bullying, with everyone joining in.

Subtext: The other girls are upset with Felice because she broke the code. You don't snitch to outsiders, you don't tell the truth, you keep up appearances.

Blink and you miss it: Henry won the potato chip auction, happily ate the entire bag, and passed out in a chair, clutching the bag. Mmmm, sourcream and onion.

Subtext: Speaking of closing ranks towards the outside, this also applies to this strike. It would be bad PR for the school if anyone outside found out that it happened, so it's better to solve it quietly and discreetly. Vanessa can trust the kids not to snitch. Vincent is also right, the parents, who are paying the tuition fees, are on their side.

Subtext: Felice can't be seen talking to Sara, so she checks that the coast is clear, and then drags Sara into a private bathroom to have their conversation.

Subtext: Likewise, Sara was probably Felice's first real friend.

Subtext: Nice little foreshadowing. I would have loved seeing Simon's drawing though!

Subtext: Well, he could have just made his social media private, but the show has to maximize the drama, so here we are, piling on more examples of how Simon is losing himself to the monarchy, that maybe he can't reconcile the conflict.

Subtext: Erik spent three years living at Hillerska, of course he wouldn't have told his then twelve year old kid brother about all the shit going on at the school. August spent an entire year living with Erik at the school, seeing what went on first hand, so of course he knows a side of Erik that Wilhelm doesn't.

Subtext: August has been trying to keep his mouth shut and avoid Wilhelm, but since they have yet another fight, he decides to drop the bomb about Erik to hurt Wilhelm.

Subtext: Again, the culture is in the walls. This is not something that only Erik's class did, once. It's probably been happening to all the boys for decades. It happened to the current second-year students, it happened to Erik, and lots of students before him who kept this shitty initiation tradition going.

Culture: Let's talk about the gay porn hazing a bit more. To me, this is an urban legend. I heard about it when I was a teenager back in the 90's, but I don't personally know anyone it happened to, or anyone who did it to anyone else. It was always hearsay, it happened to a friend of a friend's brother, or a classmate's cousin's friend or something similar, as is typical of urban legends.

Let's also make one thing absolutely clear: It doesn't work. The homophobic idea behind this shit is that if you are forced to watch gay porn and get a boner, you are gay, and if you don't, you're straight. But that is actually not true, erections don't work that way, and the fear of being found out is quite the boner killer. Also, what if you like guys, but the guys in the porno aren't your type? There's just so many ignorant misconceptions behind this idea.

I've also seen a lot of fan comments that keep playing into this ignorance; that the only reason Nils decided to stop the tradition was because he obviously failed it. Or that the only reason August is against it is because he failed, and the only reason he failed is because he's secretly not straight. No. Remember that the test doesn't work. Nils probably passed, despite actually being gay. August might have failed, despite being completely straight. Regardless of what happened, they both found it humiliating, and that is why they made a pact to stop it.

#young royals #young royals subtext #young royals analysis #young royals season 3

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jinwoosungs · 2 months

Text

{ 017 }

- when you fall asleep on them -

featuring: megumi, yuji, yuta

[ megumi 💤 ]

he will be the last to admit that he loves the way you fall asleep on him so casually; seeming to trust him and finding comfort in his presence as your head gently lands on his shoulder.

megumi convinces himself to head over to your place and study because he knew just how lazy you got each time you tried to study by yourself. there was an exam that was quickly approaching, and when he realized that you hadn't even begun to study when he last spoke to you-

he could feel the tension headache forming within his temple.

during the weekend, he stops by your house and invites himself inside, (your parents actually adored him and how he was such a positive influence for you), so it was actually pretty easy to catch you slacking off in such a casual manner.

he enters your room, seeing your eyes fixated on your computer screen as some cheesy drama was playing. your eyes were wide when you look up at him, with parted lips holding a piece of pocky in its corner, and megumi had to fight back his annoyance.

"oi, you need to study for this exam. come on, quit messing around." he slams your laptop shut and takes a hold of your pocky, chewing down on the treat with an unnecessary amount of force.

"aw, 'gumi, i-i was going to study! a-after one more episode."

he rolls his eyes at you, knowing you a little too well when he says, "sure, and then one episode turns into another, then another- and next thing you know, you're bingeing the entire season with your plans of studying becoming nonexistent."

your pout was all that he needed to know that he truly knew your intentions, reading through your lies like an open book.

after a bit of bickering, he convinces you to study with him, with the both of you settled on the hardwood flooring of your room, your backs pressed against your bed. megumi allows you to review his notes, since he remade them specifically for you, highlighting all of the important concepts in your favorite color while writing detailed, bulleted notes at the side.

he did a lot for you, for reasons he refuses to specify because he didn't think his heart could take it if and when he admitted to turning so soft for you and you alone.

megumi was caught up in his thoughts that he didn't realize when you had become slumped over against him, your warmth suddenly radiating on his shoulder as he glances over at you. the syllables that make up your name were close to escaping from his lips, yet when he catches the familiar sounds of your soft breathing was when he allows himself to smile down at you.

"you dork..."

he brushes back your hair, smirking when he sees the tiniest bit of drool settled near the corner of your mouth. letting out a feign, exasperated sigh, he closes his notebook and textbooks, choosing instead to humor you as he picked you up and carried you in his arms. with a gentleness he reserves only for you, megumi places you on the bed before laying next to you.

brushing the back of his hand against your soft cheek, he sighs while whispering to himself.

"what am i gonna do with you?"

perhaps when you wake up, he'll promise to take you out on that date so long as you do well on this upcoming exam.

[ yuji 💤 ]

a literal puppy who will do anything to spend as much time with you that he possibly can. he was your best friend, and you often spent your weekends together, having slumber parties while pulling all-nighters playing your favorite video games.

"whoa! the zombies are insane on this level!"

surrounding the floor of his bedroom were empty snacks and half-eaten bags of chips along with bottles of your favorite sodas as the only light that illuminated the room came from the television screen. the volume was turned down to a minimum to avoid the risk of waking anyone up at this ungodly hour.

while yuji was enjoying his game, you were comfortably settled on his bed, watching his joy with amusement and love in your eyes. you loved this side of your boyfriend a lot; just seeing him enjoying his life as a young teenager should.

yuji was laser-focused on his game, being so caught up with beating the level that he doesn't catch your soft yawn. it became a struggle for you to keep your eyes open, seeming difficult to hang on to your consciousness.

maybe if i just...rest my eyes a little bit...

succumbing to your drowsiness, your body slumps against yuji's bed, your breathing becoming softer and more even as you fell into a peaceful slumber.

yuji continues to play his game for the next hour, unaware that you had fallen asleep. only when he clears the level of his game did he let out excited cries of your name.

"babe! did you see that?! i finally beat the level-"

he trails off and immediately covers his mouth with both of his hands. realizing that you were asleep, yuji makes a great effort not to disturb you. he picks up the candy wrappers that surround your sleeping form, along with all the trash that was littered on his floor. he tosses everything in the trash before tiptoeing his way closer to you.

for the first time ever, yuji actually makes an effort to quietly get into bed with you. his movements were slow, not even daring to breathe when he manages to hold you in his arms before pulling the blankets over both of your forms. a look of complete and utter adoration was seen in his gaze as he allows you to bury your face within his chest.

with a sigh of your name, yuji closes his eyes, knowing that he will be filled with dreams of you the moment he joins you within this peaceful slumber.

[ yuta 💤 ]

despite being a busy man, he deeply cherishes the time he is able to spend with you. those moments where he is truly able to breathe and just unwind with you- those moments were his greatest treasures.

yuta had agreed to take the day off, wanting nothing more than to spend it with you as you decided to have a movie marathon consisting of all your favorite films.

from romance to comedy, to even horror, no movies were left untouched. feeling like this was a much needed day off for him, yuta was able to spoil the both of you with delicious takeout for each meal, reassuring you that you didn't have to lift a single finger or cook anything.

as such, you and he were both settled on your plush couch, with your head resting against his lap for the entirety of the day, your eyes engrossed in the current movie that was playing. of course, you would let out a whine each time yuta had to stand from his seat and change movies, which often prompted him to play an even longer movie that would last at least 2 to 3 hours in duration.

night had long fallen across the skies, yet yuta couldn't bring himself to retire to bed with you in his arms. it was obvious that he didn't want this day to end, because he knew that when morning came, then he would have to leave you for his latest assignment.

and truly, was it wrong of him to wish to spend every waking moment with you?

so, he continues on with the movie marathon, surrounded by empty takeout boxes with his deep blue eyes focused on the television screen. his hand mindlessly runs through your hair, earning a content sigh from you as you end up burying your face within his abdomen.

admittedly, yuta was not paying a speck of attention to the movie, so focused on your warmth and the steady sound of your breathing. only when the movie ends does he softly call out to you.

"honey, did you-"

he cuts himself off, finally looking down to see that you had already fallen asleep, with your gentle breaths felt against his shirt. yuta huffs in response, silently berating himself for being such a bad boyfriend, forcing you to stay up so late due to his own selfish desires.

"what a selfish lover i am." he trails off, pressing a kiss against your skin before picking you up in his arms. the way your body slumps against him was a clear indication of how exhausted you were. "forgive me, my love. forgive me."

even when you were so tired, you didn't speak a word to him of it. he knew that the reason why you remained silent was solely because you wanted to be with him, too.

and as yuta carries you back to your shared bedroom, he supposes that he could ask for another day off- just for the sake of your happiness.

a.n. - i am finally on spring break, with having a full week of freedom from classes, so i apologize for my sporadic updates 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi fushiguro fluff #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x you #yuji itadori x reader #yuji itadori fluff #yuji itadori x you #itadori yuji x you #itadori yuji x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu x you #okkotsu yuta x reader #okkotsu yuta fluff #.stories

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blue-jisungs · 3 months

Text

silent hug

author's note. this is veeeery self indulgent bc my exams r killing me so yeah 👍

genre. hurt to comfort (i think?), classmates to friends ??? idk man just whipped n cute sunoo

summary. in which your classmate comforts you when you tear up in class :(

warnings. cursing, reader is in a bad place mentally,, kinda hinting to academic burnout? ,, crying :( + not proofread, sorry!!

word count. 1286

with a heavy sigh you plopped down on the chair, putting your bag on the desk. the walk from the bus stop to the university tired you out but at least you got four or five minutes before the classes started. so you rested your head against the bag and closed your eyes, taking in a little more sleep than you could get this morning.

the final season is coming to an end, finally. but weirdly enough, you don’t feel relieved. sure, there’s only three or four exams left – and you haven’t really studied for them but that’s a thing to do the day before, isn’t it? – but you can’t help but feel the exhaustion. your friends chat about how there’s less things to take then it was at the beginning, sure. but the closer you get to the midterm break, the less motivation you have. and the tiredness that accumulated throughout the whole month is seeking its way out.

which is why you’re a mess nowadays. promising yourself to study but ending up doing everything but studying, falling asleep at ungodly hours (and regretting it later)… or shutting yourself down from the world. your friends got used to it, everyone has their lives after classes after all. but you carry on with do not disturb on most of the time, missing out their conversations on chats and tiktoks they’ve sent you. sure, you could’ve read them later – but there’s a sinking feeling of guilt (and a dazzle of overthinking) that you’re such a shitty friend.

all of this causes your negative emotions to bottle up. and you know it’s not a good thing, especially when you feel like you’re about to cry when a minor inconvenience occurs. but you’re stronger than that, no? the thought of locking yourself in your room during the break keeps you alive, pushing the sadness – seemingly – away.

a sudden tap on your shoulder caused you to open your eyes and lazily shift your focus to your classmate, sunoo. you looked around and didn’t see your friends… well, they probably skipped the classes since some of them are careless just like that.

"it’s about to start" sunoo smiled gently and you noticed the way his ebony gaze lingered on you for a while longer. great, you should’ve put at least some foundation.

"thanks" you nodded and took out your ipad, the other hand rubbing your eye. here we go…

"i feel like… some people in this class don’t take my lessons seriously" the professor started and you froze, heart skipping a beat. he couldn’t possibly mean you, right? “the final exam is around the corner and some of you… did not too well on the quiz"

oh, well. it’s definitely aimed at you.

"i’ll hand them out at the end of the class and then run over your mistakes. now we’ll do a revision. and you better listen" the man says and you could swear his piercing gaze is drilling into your soul.

an unpleasant feeling of warmth creeped into your face and once again you curse yourself for not putting any makeup. sunoo glanced at you, a sad smile on his lips.

the professor approached you at the end, when all of the students already left. putting the paper sheet with a nasty P– on it, you frowned. hey, you passed!

"y/n, i’m really disappointed. i don’t know what’s going on but that’s the worst work of yours so far. pull yourself together. there’s so many major mistakes… spellings… it’s not an academic level. you were one point away from not passing this one" his words hit a cord in your heart, your palms beginning to sweat. he patted the paper and returned to his desk, grabbing his stuff.

and you didn’t even know when that happened – your sweaty palms shaking, breath getting stuck in your throat, vision blurry because of tears.

you packed your things and wanted to leave but your legs felt too weak. your professor left, causing you to end up all alone in the room.

you sniffed, trying to wipe out the tears but they seemed to have other plans.

"don’t cry, idiot. it’s fucking embarrassing" you breathed out to yourself, voice barely above a whisper.

"y/n, if you want… oh. are you okay?"

you would normally look up to see who that was but the realization of someone even seeing you in such state caused your face to redden even more. pulling your t-shirt up to hide your face in it, you felt like there was no way out: you couldn’t possibly stop crying. it was like your professor’s words triggered something.

"i’m… hey, it’s okay. did he say anything bad to you? or do?" someone approached you and you shook your head as a no. "can i stay here?"

you hesitantly peeled from your shirt and noticed sunoo. his gaze softened upon seeing your teary eyes, lashes wet and flushed face.

"just… don’t mind me" you mumbled and hid your face in your shirt again. you just couldn’t stand someone seeing you in such state, whether it was someone close or a stranger.

"i… i don’t know what he said but i’ve noticed that there’s something going on with you. and may have heard what your friends said... do you want to talk about it?" sunoo asked gently and all he could hear were the harsh sobs leaving your lips.

"they talk about me behind my back?" you whined, your shoulders shaking even more. his eyes widened. that was not the best thing to say…

"no, no! i mean they said you look really tired lately…" he explained hastily and suddenly you looked up. your shirt was soaked with tears and your face was a mess, your pupils blown and wet stains on your cheeks.

"i’m so tired, sunoo. i don’t think i can handle this anymore… and everyone seems to be doing great… just not me…" you mumbled, sending him a sad smile. the pearly tears balanced at the edge of your waterline, ready to spill. he shook his head.

"you’ve got this, i know you do. you got here somehow in the first place, no? if you want, i can help you. with anything. i’m not the smartest but i do understand some things so…" he stopped talking upon seeing your curious gaze.

"why are you doing this?” you asked, sniffling.

"i just… you’re my classmate in a need of help. i couldn’t stand there and not do anything when i heard you cry. and now there’s no way out, isn’t it?" sunoo joked and his face lit up. oh, this boy was a literal sunshine.

"you said everything?" you mumbled, unsurely. he nodded, a caring smile tugging on his lips "can… hmpfh… can i hug you…?"

the words were so quiet, sunoo barely heard them. but he noticed the begging look in your eyes and who was he to deny? it’s not like he would mind, either.

sunoo just opened your arms and you hugged him tightly, wrapping your arms around his waist. he patted your back soothingly, letting you let out all of your pent up stress.

a part of sunoo’s heart raced because he wouldn’t have ever imagined that he would hug his hallway crush. the other part which caused his heart to race was the embrace itself, your smell and you in general – and he was happy he could help you.

neither of you didn’t have to talk right now. a silent hug that expressed more than a sentences could ever. and both of you knew, sitting here glued to each other and in comfortable silence, that it was a beginning of a beautiful friendship.

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ocean-minho ,, @s-e-s-a-l-e-n-e ,, @eternalgyu ,, @haecien

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manicpixiefelix · 3 months

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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 10.

Summary: The last few days of the year at Oxford! Celebrations to be had, but also you contemplate what may come next for Oliver once the semester ends. Meanwhile, in a brief moment of downtime, you try and discuss Felix's weirdness from before exam season, but he can and will try and seduce you instead of having a real adult conversation. But unfortunately he may have had a point, because that real, adult conversation fucking sucks.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: discussions of oliver's father dying, discussions of jealousy

A/N: 5623 words. wrote this directly after finishing ch 9. and then was like, what if i edited this. which means the ending of this chapter is COMPLETELY different to what it was originally, and is a bit of a downer. but we need conflict, you know? and sometimes its genuinely hard to have these adult conversations at like 21 years old. emotions and such. also there's a wizard hat. half edited then i completely rewrote the ending and that's absolutely unedited. how are we feeling about leaving oxford finally????

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

It's always a big deal when the first years finish all of their exams and get their final results. Or, well, the rest of the students make a big deal about it. You're not sure who started the tradition, or how long ago, but it's a tradition you hold dear to your heart nevertheless. The first year of university is nothing if not overwhelming, survival of it was to be celebrated.

Last year the cheering crowd of your more senior students had made you feel like you had conquered the world. This year, you were bursting at the seams with excitement to be able to share in the tradition from the other side, especially since there were several first years in particular you wanted to celebrate with.

Everything about the tradition seemed tailor made for your brand of joy. It's bright bits of costuming and ticker tape canons, balloons and medals for the undoubtably exhausted first years. Clustered together by the main doors of the examination school, you and your friends press yourselves against the barriers that had been put up to give all the first years enough space. Still, front and centre, many of you, yourself and Felix included, had been handed medallions to give to first years, while the rest were all still clutching each other and giggling with excitement, reminiscing about how loved you'd all felt at this time last year, seeing everyone cheering for all you'd accomplished.

For the past few days since your exams had finished, those in your group particularly committed to the bit, you and Felix among them, naturally, had been frequenting as many of the local charity and party shops in town. Each of you were desperately searching for delightfully garish garments and props to wear and share.

The moment Felix had spotted the sparkly, pink cowboy hat on a mannequin, paired with a violently lavender feather boa, he'd clung to them like his life depended on him owning them, hearts in his eyes, absolutely refusing to let them go. On the other hand, the sailor hat for Ollie was your idea; something more understated for a man more understated than either Felix or yourself. While Felix wanted to protest, wanted to give him something a little more flashy, you thankfully got him to compromise by allowing him to pick your accessories. Which is how you ended up with a hot pink, bedazzled 'Mother Of The Bride' sash.

And a blue, pointy wizard hat.

Anticipation grew in the gathered crowd, all chatter and smiles and giggling as you waited for the doors to open. In amongst the growing noise, you turn the medal over in your fingers, gazing at it with pride, excited to be able to be the one to give it to one of your closest friends. You still have your own from last year, usually pinned above your desk, but right now in a box ready to be taken back to Saltburn for the Summer.

The moment you all heard the tell-tale creak of those large, wooden doors, the cheering began, and you're glad to be pulled from your thoughts and back into the moment. It grew into a cacophony, a roar of joy and delight as the ticker tape canons went off and the first years streamed out in a river of excitement.

Farleigh's always cut a defined figure in any crowd he's in, considering his height, but you'd also given him the heads up to look out for the blue wizard hat to find you. At first you saw him scanning the crowd, but it takes him barely a second to find you. He lights up, eyes fixed on your stupid hat, and he breaks away from the pack at a full sprint. He doesn't even let you give him his medal at first, he's laughing at the top of his lungs, reaching all the way over the barrier to pull you into a hug, almost dragging you over the railing. There's nothing to be said, only a joy that has gone beyond words.

"You're a wizard!" He finally manages amid laughter as he lets you go, leaning back to hold you at arm's length, taking in your whole outfit, "and," his head tips in further confusion, "mother of the bride?"

"And you're a first year graduate," you grinned, "do you want your medal, or do you have more important follow up comments about my outfit?"

"I several have follow up comments but- oh my god," his eyes go wide and he suddenly seems a little breathless, like it's only just properly hit him "I finished a whole year," there's a genuine quality to his voice that's not often heard from Farleigh; still half laughing, but it's almost disbelieving, full of hope without any hint of irony, "not, like, just a week, or a semester; a whole year. A whole year at Oxford University." Lowering his head, he finally lets you put the medal on him.

For a long few moments he holds it out in front of him with pride and joy in his eyes; a precious, rare sight for you to behold. Then, very suddenly, he grabbed your face, bringing you close with this intense, shocked look in his eyes.

"I topped three of my Lit exams," he hissed with actual disbelief, almost making it sound like a scandal, "I took a hit before my Modernism final and spent nine pages arguing that Trainspotting was Allen Ginsberg's Howl for the postmodern audience. I don't even know if I believe that. How was that the best essay they saw?"

"Farleigh," you chuckled, "you might actually just be very good at this." You gave his cheek a fond pet, but after a moment, a hand reached over to tug at Farleigh's shoulder, breaking your stalemate.

"Congratulations, mate!" It's Felix, all smiles, unsurprisingly, "why've you got that look in your eyes?"

"He took one of his exams stoned and still topped the class," you grinned slyly, before your gaze fell on Oliver. As if sensing this, Farleigh slid over to give Felix a proper hug and congratulations, leaving space in front of you for Oliver to step in with a shy grin. You tug on his sailor hat with a fond smile and he turns even redder.

"Congratulations, Oliver Quick."

"Thank you," his gaze flicks up for a moment, stifling a giggle, "wizard."

Puffing out your chest as you mock-straightened your pink sash you hold your nose in the air.

"And what of it?" You put on a faux serious voice. Oliver has to duck his head to hide how much he's laughing at the bit. Once you let it go and deflate, you do then gesture for him to come close, wrapping your arms around him.

"Proud of you, Ollie," you murmur, giving him a tight squeeze.

"Don't know if I could have done it without you and Felix," he admits softly.

"Of course you could have," you assure him with warmth as the two of you begin to pull away. Oliver's eyes meet yours, blue and intense and that same familiar searching that you're so used to by now that it's something of a comfort. For just a moment, you want to reach out, to touch him, to hold onto his gentle expression and this moment in your own two hands. You wonder if he can see it in your eyes too, can see you repressing that urge.

"Wouldn't have been half as good," with the smallest of smiles, just edging on knowing, neither his expression nor his tone gives away enough for you to know exactly what he could be meaning or referring to, if anything beyond general companionship. So you play it off, you let anything you might be holding onto, anything that might be too much for such a public forum, pass.

"Of course," you say loudly, blithely, tucking your arm in Felix's beside you to get his attention, "we're wonderful company!"

"What's this?" Felix turns, eyebrows raised as he looks between yourself and an amused Oliver.

"Just saying that Oliver's year is better for having met us," you say simply, airily.

"Without a doubt!" Felix agrees without any kind of hesitation. Farleigh rolls his eyes, but is laughing as he calls both you and Felix incredibly vain.

As the excitement begins to die down and everyone begins to filter out, your group begins to meander towards the road that leads off campus, with yourself, Felix, and Oliver trailing behind.

"What's next? I mean, what's the plan now? I know there's a thing tomorrow, but -" Oliver's tentative again, quiet and meek again, acting like he's on the back foot again.

"Step one," Felix begins matter-of-factly, "pub; celebrate; get shitfaced." You see Oliver glance dubiously at your foot-high, velvet wizard hat once more. He's been doing it a lot. You can't lie, you've gotten very attached to your stupid look for the day and do plan to keep it all night.

"Even with that?"

"I'm gonna die in this hat I've decided," you say easily, to which both boys snicker at your assertiveness on the subject. But soon enough, Oliver raises another question.

"And- and tomorrow, that's the- I heard there was an end of year gala," he hesitates as you and Felix both automatically confirm. It did not seem to soothe any of Oliver's nerves and he finally brought up, "It's black tie; I have a black tie - bow tie, actually - but I don't really have anything else that'll match the theme -" he babbles awkwardly, looking all kinds of mousey and small with his head bent like that, hands fingers twisting together in anxious shapes. Both you and Felix are quiet, stuck in thought, and it takes you closing your eyes for a few seconds, trusting your arm in Felix's to keep you on the right path, before it hits you.

"Walters of Oxford," you open your eyes, "on Turl street, I think," you pause for a beat, reconsidering, "maybe double check that." Squinting for a moment, you try and recall, "ten minute walk, I think? Depending on your route, I guess. Not far is the point." But when you look over at your companions, both are frowning at you, something incredulous in their eyes. "To... hire a suit," you explain almost sheepishly under their respective gazes.

"How did you do that?" Oliver asks softly.

"Why did you know that?" Felix adds, bewildered.

"Isn't it handy to know the best place to get good suits and expert repairs done?" You shrugged a little helplessly. However, as you let your gaze drift, you find yourself recalling something India had said about you always needing to be a step ahead, to always have contingencies in place so Felix need not ever be inconvenienced for too long. Whatever; you push the thought and India's past negative tone from your mind, telling yourself it's good information to have anyhow.

"Anyways, I was also looking into good places for suit hires, in case the worst happened, and wouldn't you know it, Walters does that too."

"I'll- I guess I'll head there tomorrow morning," Oliver says awkwardly.

Felix drops your arm for a moment, wrapping his arm around Oliver's shoulders, bringing him in close.

"I look forward to see you in a suit, Ollie," there was no mistaking the flirty tone he was using, and from the glimpse of Ollie's face that you could see around him, he was turning red under Felix's praise, "handsome man like you all done up," he trailed off, ruffling Oliver's hair before he let go, cheeky smile on his face and bounce in his step. He has to be aware of Oliver's nervous, starry-eyed gaze locked upon him, but Felix just strikes up a conversation with you, enquiring if you would be going in a suit or a dress.

"I'm going in a wizard's hat." You declared.

"I love this bit; you aren't even drunk yet!" Everything you do is worth it if it means Felix will look at you like this, with delight shining in his eyes and in his words.

The night - what you can remember of it - is phenomenal. Benji calls you Archmage of the Bride and it's the only thing anyone refers to you as for the rest of the night, everyone else loudly correcting anyone who gets it wrong. Aside from that, everyone is babbling and bright and so enthusiastic about the gala the following night and what they'll be wearing.

Oliver is quiet, tucked in between you and Felix, nursing his pints longer than anyone else. Felix's arm is around him, as it always seemed to be, and as the night goes on, more and more you get the urge to tip your head and rest it against Oliver's for several long moments at a time.

But there's something different about tonight. Oliver doesn't reach out to you, even subtly. His thigh against yours is forced proximity, but his hands are always on his drink and his ankles are crossed beneath the table. Whenever he looks away, you start to notice that it's not at you; Felix seems to hold his attention more than anyone else, but on any other night, that wouldn't really surprise you. You want to ask what's wrong, but by the time you realise something is, you're not sure you're even capable of stringing two coherent words together.

You think back on what he'd said on the way to the pub, his voice small and nervous.

What's next?

You ponder as you leave the pub with several others in the group, thinking hard. Had he meant more than just the immediate? Your next was Saltburn, Oliver's next was... ah. Junkie mum and no dad.

Someone sticks a finger in your ear. Immediately you jump and clutch protectively at your hat -

"Fuck off 'm wizard!"

"I'm seeing if I can feel your thoughts, they look serious," Farleigh, somehow more sober than you, is still cackling. Your drunk mind doesn't like that he's laughing at you, even if it's an objectively funny situation, and you spend the rest of the short walk stomping and pouting, with Farleigh laughing and calling you ridiculous the entire time.

You awaken on the second last day of living on the Oxford University campus for your second year, with an absolutely killer headache. You don't remember getting back into your dorm, but apparently your drunken self was kind enough to steal an entire pitcher from the common area and fill it literally to the brim with water. Far less had spilled on your bed side table than you'd anticipated.

What you do remember, however, is the numerous thoughts you'd had about Oliver. Both last night, and over the past few weeks. As you take some painkillers and drink water out of the pitcher, you gaze across your room to few newspapers you've had sitting under a pile of textbooks since the second week of exams.

It's almost midday. Taking the papers, you pack yourself a bag of whatever you'd need to get ready for the gala on top of your little project, and pull your garment bag from your wardrobe. Swinging past the on-campus café, you pick up arguably too much food for you and Felix to share before the event, then heading to his dorm.

"Get fucked," Felix shouts through the door, muffled probably by his pillow, when you knock.

"Felix, open up!"

"No! What time is it?"

"Midday!"

"Fucking midday?!"

From behind you, one of the doors flies open and one of Felix's scowling dormmates spits for you to shut up or fuck off.

"Grow up or eat shit; it's the afternoon," you flip him off with a scowl. The door slams shut. Immediately you turn and kick Felix's door. When he opens it, he does not look happy. In return, you smile sweetly at him, thanking him with the most saccharine tone you can manage.

"Brought us food," you offer, as if trying to placate him, but instead Felix pointedly falls face first upon his bed, pulling his pillow over his head in defiance. Just glad to be finally let in, you potter around his room quietly, carefully avoiding his boxes of already packed belongings.

Putting all the food on the table, you start on some of it yourself as you keep working almost silently. You hang your garment bag up next to his, put your nice shoes by his door, put all your accessories and other things you needed to get read in their own, distinct pile on his dresser before you settle yourself in his desk chair, pulling out one of the newspapers and carefully going through it.

The Liverpool Echo.

Your eyes flick briefly over the articles, not really paying any of them much real attention, at least not until you got to the obituaries. These you scoured. Names and faces and dates and sweet words about caring, loving people who you neither knew nor cared for. No Quicks. Next paper.

It takes you quite some time; you're thorough and you'd gotten quite a few day's worth from around the time Oliver had found out the news about his father in case it had been reported earlier or perhaps a few days later. Prescot didn't have it's own newspaper, but the lady at the news agency you'd phoned to order them assured you that the Liverpool Echo was received by the people of Prescot too.

"Are you reading the paper?" Felix's voice actually makes you jump, having so engrossed yourself in your reading, forgetting he was still there. Looking at the clock, then at him, you see him still looking groggy, but more bemused than anything. Then, after a beat, he looks to the pile of ones you'd already gone through on the floor by your feet.

"Food's cold," you told him, going back to your reading.

"Why are you reading the paper?" Propping himself up, he begins to stretch and finally, properly wake up for the day.

"Been thinking about Ollie," you tell him with a distracted air, folding up the paper in your hands after a minute more of poring over it, adding it your growing pile despondently. Thankfully, instead of making a snide comment, Felix yawns, asking you what exactly you'd been thinking.

"I know he said he's fine, but his dad still passed," you said softly, gazing at the small stack you're still yet to read, but feeling no urge to pick any more up, "and he hasn't been home, and when he gets home, I don't know..." you sighed, sitting back and looking at the ceiling, a kind of ache in your heart that you hadn't expected, "I wanted to try and find his obituary, to see if anyone said any nice things about him, but I'm not having any luck."

"I don't think he was the kind of man who had obituaries written about him," Felix tells you with a kind of resignation, "but I get that it's one of our last days," he extrapolates, voicing your intentions as easily as if he could read your mind, "and you want to try and give him a nice moment, to show that people care about him, before we, you know, fuck off for a month and a half and leave him."

"Grim, when you put it like that," you hummed, "but yeah, essentially." Felix made a noise of sombre agreement.

Finally, however, he rose from his bed, slowly meandering over to the desk and picking through the food you'd brought. For a long few moments he idly flicks through the few papers you had left on his desk, carelessly shoving each over as he doesn't even open them.

"What about that rock thing my family does?" Mouth half full of a sandwich and leaving the papers alone, his curiosity over them apparently sated, Felix sits himself on the floor by his bed, knees drawn up to his chest as he contemplates, "doesn't have to be all that serious, can be just about saying goodbye and letting go. Closure and shit, you know?" He swallows, looking at you with bright eyes, as if waiting for you to validate his idea, "like we did with my dog when I was a kid."

"That's actually a very sweet idea; I think he'd love that coming from you," you slowly begin to smile as you turn the idea over in your mind. Felix, however, wears a look like he's almost confused, but you can't begin to imagine what until he opens his mouth -

"What do you mean 'coming from me'?" Despite his apparent vague distaste for your wording, you can't help but laugh, rolling your eyes.

"Ollie would love the idea of lighting a bag of shite on fire on his mother's doorstep if the suggestion came from you; I'm saying it's a lovely idea, and he's very fond of you, it'll mean a lot to him."

Quiet filters in with the sunlight. You watch Felix, Felix watches himself pick at his nails.

"Very fond of you too," it's completely and totally neutral. It's also a fucking loaded statement if you've ever heard one come out of Felix's mouth.

"Felix." When he hears the warning notes in your voice, you know he pretends not to.

Reaching over to his bedside table, the unnecessary arc of his arm has him catching the light, muscles lean and taught with his effort to not otherwise move. Heat of the day had already begun to infiltrate the room, but this angle and the light makes the beading sweat along his skin glow; he's always been able to take advantage of a hot day in a way you've never seen of anyone else. Felix, of course, knows exactly what he's doing. Felix learned long ago how to perform at the drop of a hat; no-one was better at objectifying him than he was if he wanted to, "don't do that," you mutter, knowing that even you weren't immune to the way he could manipulate people's eyes upon him.

"What?" It's too innocent to be anywhere near truthful. You see the edge of a smirk before it disappears behind a cigarette and his sudden, aloof façade.

"We haven't talked about what happened," you tried, you really did, "we swept it under the rug for Ollie's sake, and then we had exams, and we -"

Felix lights his lighter, head angled so he can look up at you through his lashes, so his hair falls and curls and turns gold in the flickers of the lighter's faint fire. For another second he holds your gaze, confusing and teasing all in one; like he adores you, but like it's a challenge. Then he moves again, poses again. One leg up, one leg stretched out in front of him, cigarette resting so lazily between the fingers of the hand that he rests on his thigh, plays a staccato beat with his fingers against his bare skin. Nudity was never taboo between you, so why were you losing your train of thought over Felix in his boxers, a sight you'd seen arguably a hundred times before.

Looking anywhere else on him doesn't do you any favours, the beautiful body you've marked and called yours - jealousy, right, that's -

But his head tips back, falling back against his bed as smoke rings rise from his lips and the column of his throat is caught by the light. When his tongue darts out to wet his lips, you catch only the briefest flash but he knows you can fill in the rest, knows you see the way his adam's apple bobs as he swallows.

"You know we need to talk, otherwise you wouldn't be doing this."

"Doing what?" He shifts, legs spreading a little wider, and when he looks at you, he's wearing that smile you've seem him turn on countless girls before, teasing, flirting, look in his eyes like he's getting high of of the very idea of you. Lips quirking into a cocky smile, he raises his cigarette to his lips, watching you with an almost lazy kind of arousal. Like every girl he's looked at like this knows they could get him in bed without even trying, without even knowing they were being seduced, "something wrong, love?"

And it's fucking working.

"Fuck, Fi," you have to close your eyes, putting your head in your hands. He laughs and it sounds like fucking syrup, all teasing and warmth, but you can't fucking do this right now; "are you trying to get me in bed just because you don't want to talk about the fact that you were obviously jealous of Oliver?"

This silence is far more bitter, as is Felix's tone when he finally speaks.

"What would I have to be jealous of?" Sounding like a man in denial.

"That Oliver is good to me without needing you as an audience," you push the heels of your palms against your eyes, words and thoughts escaping you that you didn't even realise you had. The next breath you takes shakes. Audibly. Felix clears his throat, but he doesn't seem to know what to say. Now that you've said it out loud, you can feel your face beginning to heat up, tears stinging your tightly closed eyes, the way you begin to tremble.

"I know," you start slowly, carefully thinking about your words this time as you say them, "that you love me, Fi," it's gentle, reassuring, but frustrated nonetheless, face still in your hands. But your breath still shakes as you try and keep it level, "so I think part of you is- is scared that if I find someone who could love me," even the thought of your next words sit bitter and heavy on your tongue, so you have to take a deep breath, try and centre yourself, "without you," you pause, swallowing hard, feeling traitorous tears escaping you, "that I might realise I prefer- prefer that, or something," here is where you start to break, where your voice cracks and you can't keep your hands against your eyes so all you can do is hang your head and hope he doesn't see your tears, "but you've spent all your time assuming, and pouting, and thinking badly of a good friend, and you haven't even asked me!"

Finally, Felix speaks, his voice weak; he sounds moments away from tears.

"I made you cry."

You hadn't even realised how far beyond Oliver this went, how tightly you'd been holding onto this, these thoughts and feelings, keeping them coiled in your chest, until just now. Hearing his words, your crying finally becomes audible, even to you, even if you hadn't meant it to. Today was meant to celebrate, not... this.

"I don't-" he voice catches in his throat, and you hear him sniffle softly, "I don't know if I can ask you that." He admits. Finally, when you look up, you see his expression carefully neutral, looking over his shoulder with both his knees drawn up to his chest. God he can't even look at you.

You know Felix Catton too well; he is terrified.

In the moments that follow, you slowly pull yourself together. You dry your eyes, and nod, while trying to school your expression into something lighter.

"Okay, Fi," you tell him, and try to make sure he knows you're being sincere, "it's, um," you sniffle as you try and smile, "it's a loaded question, I know."

When he bites his bottom lip as subtly as he can manage, you know its to try and keep it from wobbling. There's guilt written all over his face as he watches you move around his room. He doesn't get up, doesn't move, just watches and listens.

"I'm -" you take a deep breath, looking around the room and forcing a smile, "I think I'm going to get ready for tonight with Farleigh, is that alright?"

"Yeah, 'course," he says, as if on autopilot. After a beat, as you collect up your things, Felix finally looks around his room, at the boxes and the things you'd brought with you. Suits, matching and side by side in his closet, bought alongside a third in the set for Farleigh that you know he'd be wearing tonight too. You take it out, lay it over a taped-up box full of his books, ready to go, and finish collecting up your accessories.

"You should talk to Ollie," you tell him, double checking your bag, unsure of how you were managing to act like everything was suddenly okay. Felix nods, watching you once more, gaze a little glassy, far away and looking almost lost, almost guilty again. Part of you is desperate to stay, to comfort him. But as much as he may want it, it's not what he needs in this moment.

"Fi, are you listening to me?" You asked, firmer this time, and he seems to surface from whatever thought's he'd been stuck in, giving you a faraway smile as he nods; it's almost believable, "I know you care about Ollie," you say warmly but firmly, "please talk to him," wetting your lips, you deliberate on your way to the door, picking up your garment bag, "be good to him; Ollie's the only audience that matters there."

"Does this change..." Felix is looking at the floor when you finally make it to his door, "us?"

"Are you still jealous of Ollie?" You try to make it sound joking, since you were pretty sure of the answer, though Felix shakes his head with a frown.

"No, 'course not," he mutters, almost as if to himself, but he doesn't seem to have finished his thoughts on the matter, so you give him a moment; "I've been an asshole, haven't I?" He finally mutters looking out across his room, "a right asshole to someone who's only ever tried to be a bloody good friend to me."

"You kind of have," you agreed easily, and Felix finally looks at you again, the slightest furrow in his brow. There's nothing particularly, prominently beautiful or posed about Felix in this moment; he'd dropped the pretense long ago.

Looking at him now, looking up at you with those helpless eyes, all folded up and far smaller than he usually appeared, all you can remember is the kid afraid of scary movies and his sister's Goosebumps books, who'd stayed up late with you when you'd cried your eyes out in your first year of Secondary school when your parents missed your birthday again, who never let you forget how much he loved you, even for a moment, since you'd met. Your best friend. Always.

"I wish you'd just trust how much I love you too, Fi," voice and expression softening. Slowly, Felix stands, makes his way over to you, wrapping you up in a hug.

"I do, and I will better next time," he mumbles faintly, apologetically, "'m sorry."

There's something melancholy about still parting ways, even after his apology, but both of you seem to know that it's for the best.

Farleigh is glad for your company, and you do a good enough job of appearing alright that he doesn't seem to pick up on the strange mood you can't otherwise shake. Still, you're quiet, Farleigh talking enough for the both of you in between a range of CD mixtapes he'd put together for his own enjoyment.

On your way into the gala itself, you're ahead of Farleigh by a few paces, eager to get in and get yourself a drink, but you brush past Oliver, waiting, looking, as always, out of place. When you tell him he looks lovely, you can't bring yourself to meet his eyes, and barely stay, while you hear Farleigh, behind you, taking his time with antagonising your poor friend.

Felix is leaving the event as you're arriving. He almost crashes into you, bottle of champagne clearly stolen from one of the tables, in one hand as he's running from the venue.

"Hey, hi," despite both your best efforts, there is still clearly some discomfort in the air between you. Felix's eyes roam over you, almost out of habit, but there's an appreciative look in his eyes as he meets your gaze once more, "I think, I, uh, I'm going to skip this one and hang out with Ollie," almost like he's trying to invite you. But after everything, this can't be something you do; this isn't your tradition, this isn't your moment to share with Oliver. He'll never get it.

He's Felix Catton; he's the sun.

"He's going to enjoy that so much more than hanging around here," you smile brightly. Felix looks a little surprised, a little put out that you had apparently not picked up on his offer, or that you had and had decided to decline.

"Yeah, I- I thought so," he almost seems a little stunned by how cold this interaction was between you, compared to the usual, boisterous comradery you shared.

"Have a good night, Fi," finally, you kiss his cheek and slip into the entrance hall of the gala building, weaving through beautifully dressed students to find your gaggle of friends for the night. Throughout the night, you get asked where Felix is, and you shrug with a blithe smile every time.

My Felix <3: i invited ollie to spend summer with us

Tomorrow you would be okay.

Tonight, however, you planned to dance with your friends, drink enough that you either stop feeling so weird in your damn brain, or feel perhaps even worse, and probably end up crying.

Tomorrow everything would be okay again.

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