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#*fucks up skateparks
lavaflowe · 2 years
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POV: Nezha discovered heelyz
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bigothteddies · 4 months
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jeezush skates are expensive
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bluesey-182 · 2 years
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the chocolate guy is literally just a sculptor that uses chocolate as his medium. it's not that weird of a concept. and yet sometimes when i see one of his videos i find myself asking "what the hell possesses a person.....?"
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gamermattsgf · 4 months
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Silk ribbons // sub Chris
Warnings: major sub Chris / mommy kink / blindfold kink / restraints kink / overstimulation / praise kink / cum kink (I literally have no idea what to call this lol, you’ll get what I mean tho… hopefully) / degradation / slut shaming / male masterbation / hand job / female masterbation (if u squint)
Summary: chris invites you around to bake brownies, but after a slight mishap with your underwear he finds it increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything but the sight of them.
Author’s notes: this oneshot is literally the physical embodiment of training wheels by Melanie Martinez ugh, it matches the vibe perfectly. You guys wanted sub Chris so I delivered, enjoy yourselves thirsty hoes ;)
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“I love everything you do, when you call me fucking dumb for the stupid shit I do… I wanna ride my bike with you, fully undressed, no training wheels left for you…” - Training Wheels, Melanie Martinez
Chris thinks he’s a little strange.
Ever since he’s been young he’s loved all things to do with the colour baby pink, and he’s always led a life of soft aesthetics, pearls and strawberry shortcake daydreams. He’s grown up looking around at other people and thinking there has been something wrong with him because there’s no way a man should have been this obsessed over all things soft and delicate.
But he couldn’t help it.
He just couldn’t resist the gentle look of soft pink bows, used for both accessories and decor, and he really loved his mom’s antique pink china tea set, so much so that whenever she offered to make him tea he’d always shyly request it to be poured into one of those cups. He just liked the look of them, that’s all.
He also loved his mom very much, he was for sure a momma’s boy, but unfortunately her affections and coddles rubbed off on him a little too well, which left him as a touch starved 20 year old… absolutely terrified of being asked to top.
Truthfully, he really had no idea what he was doing in the bedroom, he didn’t like the control or the freedom to do whatever he wanted.
Within his sexual fantasies he’d much rather have been the subservient one to whoever was willing to entertain his strange desires.
Because he wanted to be babied, he wanted to be degraded, he wanted hair strokes and wrist ties.
He had met you at his local skatepark whilst sitting on the edge of a ramp.
Biting his lip, he had been peeling off the paper from the sticky side of a hello kitty bandaid that he had needed to use to cover up a graze. His nostrils had flared and he had hissed at the rawness of it on his skint kneecap. He knew he should have worn his jeans that day, not his jorts.
Whilst securing it onto his cut, the skateboard that he had been sat on top of creaked gently underneath his weight. Suddenly, the wheels to another skateboard had filled his ears whilst he focused in on the calming pink colour of the bandaid, admiring the soft little white cat print. The gritting sound of them on the concrete had forced him to look up to you, who had now stepped off of your own skateboard and kicked it up into your hand.
You had smiled down at Chris cheekily, curious but shy in front of him. Fondly laughing, you had pointed to the hello kitty plaster on his knee that had covered up his cut as he sat before you on the floor. ‘Nice bandaid.’ Chris had swallowed nervously, thinking that this stranger was about to tease him about the girly looking bandaid… but - to his bewilderment - you had sat down next to him instead, your perfume a waft of sweet roses that again, readily attracted Chris because of his acute love for all things light.
‘Got a spare for me?’
And after that day you two had just clicked.
You’re not really sure if you were friends or something more, but Chris undeniably felt attracted to you, partly because when he had muscled up the right amount of nerves to invite you around to his place, you had excitedly freaked out over his coquettish room, marvelling at its cuteness and flopping onto his bed to grab his monkey stuffed animal and cuddle it into your chest.
Chris had been so fucking terrified that you would have been weirded out by his taste in room decor, but on the contrary- you had found it extremely interesting, that someone as masculinely set and attractive as Chris had such a unique aesthetic.
You had never really met anyone like Chris, and that excited you. His room was queer, a perfect mix of both boyish and girlish things. His skateboard was always leant up against the door to his closet and random pictures of rappers haphazardly dotted themselves about his walls. Additionally, a desk with a pc sitting on top of it took up the left hand corner of his room whilst his blue and white headset constantly rested on top of his Xbox.
Oddly, you hadn’t expected his bedcovers to be a pearly silk pink when you had first entered the threshold, nor expected the white fluffy throw blanket draped lazily over the side of it, but you hadn’t complained. You had loved it.
Looking back, it didn’t surprise you much. He did wear an awful lot of pink. A deep pink puffer jacket, pink t-shirts, a pink button down for formal occasions and he had even doodled pink swirls onto his white Nikes with acrylic leather pens. He usually skated in them, and one day when you asked him where he had gotten them from he had told you did them himself. This only made him ten times cooler in your eyes.
On this occasion, you were around at his place to hang out downstairs. Chris had suggested baking brownies and you had been quick to agree with him, finding a recipe online and opening different cupboard doors to select ingredients.
For some reason however, sexual tensions between you two had been high. You felt it hit you extra hard whenever your sides brushed or whenever Chris flicked his powdery blue eyes to meet yours, before he shyly averted them and cleared his throat. Multiple times you had looked down to his arms to see that the soft hairs of them were raised to attention, and whenever Chris’ palms touched against yours to help you stir the mixture you felt them to be clammy with sweat. It was only when you bent down to grab another mixing bowl that you realised something was truly up, because Chris had gone silent.
Why you ask? As you had bent down, your soft white sweats had slipped from above the handles of your hips to reveal the tight waistband of your lacy underwear pinching against your skin perfectly. Chris’ throat had gone dry. Fuck, he had felt like such a pervert looking at the soft cherries of your ass cheeks that were covered over with your sweats, but he couldn’t help the way the butterflies shooting through his gut quickly traveled past his own underwear and right to his cock.
You were wearing lacy pink underwear.
Chris was a naturally anxious and nervous person that liked to overthink. Immediately his mind drew itself to a bunch of different conclusions over something probably meaningless. Were you wearing that set because you knew that you were going to be around at his and that the colour pink reminded you of him? Or was it just a coincidence that you chose to wear literally the most tantalising pair of underwear that you could have in his presence.
He wasn’t sure, but his mind overwhelmed himself with these thoughts whilst his eyes greedily drank in the eyeful you had given him. Reacting quickly, he thought it necessary to speedily dart behind the other side of the counter before you could turn around and see how embarrassingly hard his cock had gotten. He felt wet, his tip hot and soaking as he quickly plummeted into humiliation at his lack of self control. He pressed his hips into the counter, flustered with a stupidly obviously blush dusting lightly over his cheeks whilst he held his breath, trying to conceal any noise he might have been tempted to make at the rub of the hard-wooded counter against his flushed cock.
You had turned back around, completely oblivious to what had happened and unconsciously pulling your sweatpants back up by nature.
After quickly edging his way to the exit of the kitchen and rushing an ‘I’ll be right back’ shakily, he stumbled his way up the stairs, practically cupping his length so that you couldn’t see it before sprinting into his room and closing the door behind him.
*
Chris has never felt more embarrassed in his life. You are still downstairs and he still has a raging boner.
Panicking, he doesn’t feel like he can get rid of it by willing it to go down with just images in his mind, so he worriedly comes to the conclusion that he’s going to have to touch himself.
His heart races, and his cheeks flush a humiliated red, getting even hotter the more he meekly pads over to the side of his dresser with his cock throbbing and his balls tight. He frowns when all his mind can do to help is cast 3D printed images of your ass snuggled into the pair of underwear you were wearing right in front of his field of vision, evidently making his stiffy now much worse.
He slaps his clammy hand to his forehead, his fingertips lightly brushing over the yellow bandana that he has on to pull back his hair. His shoulders heave as he squeezes his eyes shut in disbelief.
As he reaches out his other hand to his top dresser drawer, he swallows when noticing it’s shaking with nerves. He can’t believe he’s going to have to do this whilst the girl he normally thinks about when he strokes himself is actually downstairs in his house.
The thought makes Chris want to throw himself out of the window, because he’s generally embarrassed wanking off with his family in the house, no less with the girl that he likes as more than a friend residing just downstairs in his kitchen. But there’s no other way to get rid of it, and wouldn’t it be more embarrassing for him to be parading around you with his cock proudly on show than for him to quietly sate his horny hunger in the comfort of his own room?
Sliding the drawer out, his jittering hand goes straight for the tube of lotion, knowing that he’s going to have to make this as quiet as possible so that you don’t get suspicious as to where he’s actually gone.
Rapidly sliding off his sweatpants, he takes a shaky breath at the feeling of the fabric rubbing against his sensitivity before the soft material drops down to his ankles and he has to step out of them.
Kneeling onto his bed, it squeaks quietly underneath his weight and Chris has to cringe in both guilt and arousal.
Inconspicuously worming his bottom half under the silky pink covers, he tunes in his ears to make sure that the house upstairs is silent and that there can be no creaks of floorboards heard before blinking and flipping open the cap of the lotion.
He squirts a heavy amount of the sticky clear liquid onto the palm of his sweating hand before gulping and arching up his hips so that his spare hand can thumb itself into the band of his white boxers. Pulling them down he pants a little and shamefully looks at his twitching cock, his tip a bright red and his skin a needy pink whilst the thick vein on the left side of his shaft bulges outwardly.
Before he begins, a surge of sexual excitement hits his nervous system and has adrenaline pulsing through his blood. He decides to grip onto the hem of his shirt at the last minute so that he can tuck it into his mouth and bite down on it as a last ditch effort to suppress any noises he knows that he’s going to make.
Another thing Chris is embarrassed about is how loud he gets, and this statement still rings true as the already cherry red flush on his face seems to thicken even more after he looks down at his cock to observe the way his hand spreads the lotion along the hot thickness of his girth.
At the first touch, his back arches slightly, and he has to take in a laboured breath at the feeling of his cock, rock hard in his grip and begging to be stroked by his hand.
‘Ugh fuck…’ he moans breathlessly into the bite of his t-shirt, humiliation swarming him in waves as he starts to jerk his hand up and down. It was like torture, being forced to listen to the sticky slickness of the lotion moving upon his throbbing skin as he whimpered and spread his legs slightly with the current of pleasure that came with it.
‘Fuck… fuck… f-fuck…’ he stutters quickly through more pants, his fist tightening perfectly as he feels the slimy texture of his guilty filth run over his hand. His back rests against the headboard of his bed but it doesn’t stay there for long intervals at a time because of how much it arches.
He sweats, and breathlessly feels like he doesn’t know what to do with himself the more he stimulates his cock. His other hand grapples and fidgets, first clutching onto his thigh, but then moving restlessly around to grope his pearly pink pillow, only to then move once again up to his headboard. His arm extends across the expanse of it whilst his fingers knuckle the wood.
Chris’ head tilts and hits the wall with his eyebrows furrowed when his thumb comes up to quickly swirl over his tip before he whimpers into the air and allows his t-shirt to drop down out of his mouth and crumple back into its original resting place. He simply cannot hold it within the bite of his lip anymore because all his mouth does is lay slackened and open.
He then allows himself to tune out the rest of the world, only focussing in on his pleasure until playing with his slit becomes too sensitive.
Looking down once again in fascination at his hand working against his cock, the erotic noise of the lotion lubricating his skin makes him mumble a quiet ‘Jesus Christ…’ before he’s shutting his eyes again.
This time however, when he shuts his eyes an almost incriminatingly foul image crosses his mind, and he wants to slap himself for thinking such a dirty thing about such a sweet girl.
But suddenly, he sees visions of an elegant you, lying down sprawled across the other side of his bed. An elegant you that seems to be wearing a matching two piece set in baby pink…
The bra is see-through, allowing Chris to fantasise about what your nipples may look like whilst your tits lay perfectly nestled in between the sheer silky material with bows and pearls decorating the pale pink lace, he also seems to imagine it being one of those pretty bras where the fabric is detachable from the wires so that Chris can easily suck on your tits, drooling all over them like a lovesick puppy.
The panties are indeed too, lacy and decorated with a little bow on the top, however, scandalously attached to the sweetheart underwear are sensual-looking garters, that pull up knee high white socks with tiny pink love hearts stitched into them, the frills at the top also being a matching baby pink.
Chris moans again at the image and pants into the air at the thought he fantasises just for himself. His absolute dream underwear set on you.
But that’s not all. Because along with the temptress-esque underwear he has you wearing, your knees are also propped up with your legs spread out, one hand perched lazily on the covers. You lie there, with a somewhat helpless look on your face, whilst your other hand slips down your bare navel to in between your spread legs so that you can delicately play with yourself.
The noises Chris imagines you let out are soft, and you almost purr desperately, looking at him with lustrously hooded eyes and your hair fanning out around you like an angel.
‘Aren’t you going to play with me Chris…?’ His imagination pouts gently to him in the warped voice of you, your finger circulating where Chris wants to touch the most before you hiss quietly in pleasure.
‘I want you to touch me… please… be my good boy, I’m aching for your cock…’ you whine again, panting quietly whilst Chris moans once more, whimpering this time a pathetic ‘mommy…’ that more so comes out like a babbling baby’s whisper, before he dares to look down at the image he’s conjured up in his mind once more to help himself get off.
‘I’m dripping Chris… please… I need you angel boy… I- I- I wish you could just stuff me full of your cock. I’ll always be your sweet girl, I promise! Haven’t I been a good mommy? Do I not deserve it?’ You coquettishly pout once again, your big beautiful glassy eyes almost welling up with tears as you perfectly demonstrates the balance between sadness and sexual desire. You look like his strawberry shortcake daydream… and Chris so badly wants to sink his teeth into your flesh.
This almost pushes him over the edge, his legs spreading the furthest they can go to make sure that his hand can get the best access to his cock whilst the covers that he once had concealing his embarrassed sensitivity now rolling down his legs.
The bed squeaks as he fucks his hips upwards gently into his hand. The more he gets carried away within his groans of struggle and hitched breathes of a long awaited high, the more agressive he gets with his grip.
All of his incoherent speeches are drowned out by the squeaking groan of his bed and the sticky stroke of his cock. Now, the red blush from his cheeks has spread to pretty much his whole entire face, his sinful act also feeling so so fucking addictive. And he feels like he’s swimming in ecstasy, mumbling your name in pleasure, over and over again. That is… until there is a gentle, almost timid knock at his door, the cupped fist most likely belonging to the only other person in the house at the moment. You…
…oh fuck.
‘Chris what are you-’
You suddenly burst into his room, completely unannounced after your knock, because you had heard the guttural stutter of your name…
And there Chris sits, like a deer caught in headlights, frozen with his lower half naked and his boxers clinging to the skin of his thighs. You clock the discarded bottle of lotion on the left side of his bed covers and then gawk at his glistening cock, wrapped up within his right fist.
‘Oh- fuck, sorry!’ You yelp suddenly, yourself unable to look away and Chris too stunned with embarrassment to rush and cover himself up. There would be no point now anyway, it was so fucking blatantly obvious what he was doing.
‘N-no please it’s my fault. I- I just didn’t want you to see. Thought I could get rid of it quietly’ Chris stutters back at you, now finally gaining the common sense to cover himself up by draping his duvet over his nakedness so that he could regain some of his decency back. But his decency quickly crumbles once again when you let out a huge breath. You relax, your eyes blinking as you cock your hip to the side. ‘Why’d you stop…?’.
Chris swallows nervously and his jaw goes slack at your question, he furrows his brows, slightly confused, ‘why’d I- why’d I stop?’. His voice sounds hoarse and he has to clear his throat ever so slightly in awkwardness.
‘Yeah… doesn’t really bother me to be honest’.
His hands are shaking underneath the plushness of his silky covers.
‘Umm… well I just thought you’d be a little weirded out by it that’s all… s’that not normal?’ He chokes out, feeling it very queer to be having a conversation with you like this, still hyper aware that his cock is painfully hard and that you can probably still see it poking up from under his bedsheets. He squirms around at this thought, his cheeks red and emanating heat.
You just shrug. ‘I mean… for some people probably, but not me’ you smirk ‘what were you thinking about?’. As if Chris isn’t embarrassed enough already, this question makes everything so much worse. ‘Umm… well I- uh’ he bumbles stupidly, struggling to find the words, which just makes you even more smug. You’re not stupid, you had heard him mumble your name from the other side of the door before you had burst it open.
‘C’mon Chris be a big boy now and spit it out’ you chided him, walking towards him a little. In response to this he shuffles further back up his bed, trying to get away from the overwhelming burden of having to admit that it was you he was thinking about.
‘Umm… just- stuff’ he jitters, and you roll your eyes. ‘Don’t bullshit my Chris, you and I both know that it was me… believe it or not you weren’t dealing with it as “quietly” as you thought you were’. Chris knows there’s no way to possibly skirt around this, so his chest deflates and he sighs. Fucking curse him for being too noisy. His eyes shyly look to his bedcovers, refusing meet yours. ‘Fine… it was you. Sorry… I just couldn’t help it’. His hand not covered in a thin layer of lotion comes up to his eyes and pinches them shut.
‘Don’t be sorry. I’m flattered to be on your mind. Because you sound so pretty getting off to the thought of me…’ you smirk when Chris snaps his eyes open, his misty blue irises flicking about your face to scan for any hint of a lie. But there’s none there to detect because you are being genuine with him.
Chris is a very interesting person, so you feel like he’s the kind of guy to have interesting kinks… I mean… look at him, so feminine yet so fucking masculine at the same time. He’s the kind of person that anyone would be lucky to taste before they die.
‘Yeah? You think about me with your hand down your pants often Chris?’ You taunt him, your heady smirk working him up into a flustered state of stuttering. ‘No! Well- I- yes… but it’s not like-’.
He vigorously tries to defend himself but he only makes a mess of his speech pattern, so you do him a favour by hushing him softly. You’re now towering over him, his big eyes trained on you and his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. ‘What do you like Chris?’ You ask, leaving the question opened ended. This could have been about anything, but of course, you only have one goal in mind. You want to know what gets him going, gets him hard, gets his back arching and his legs spreading…
‘What do you mean…?’ Chris decides to play dumb, his shyness seeping through every pore in his body. ‘Chris you know what I mean. What keeps you up at night… what do I do in your imagination that makes you want to touch yourself until you’re making a mess all over yourself hm?’ Your voice is light and gentle whilst you bravely reach your hand out to cup underneath his jaw. You lift his chin gently, the weight of his head softly resting on your hand as he swallows again.
‘I like…’ he mumbles breathlessly, struggling to get the rest of the words out before you are peeling back his sweetie pie pink covers to expose him. You look down to see his thighs twitching slightly at being revealed to you once again. ‘Oh Chris that looks sore baby…’ you coo, and his hips squirm. ‘Keep going’ you respond to him, wanting him to finish answering your question. But this time, you reach out your hand to grasp onto his cock, his texture warm and damp.
Chris bites his lip and feathers his eyes closed, his head tipping back and a boiling hot surge of pleasure scalding his gut as soon as you start to work your hand against his slick skin. ‘Um… look- look in my bedside drawer…’ he moans, his voice struggling to crawl up his throat without a whine tinging to every single word. You furrow your eyebrows, keeping your hand on Chris as you lean over to use your other one, which wraps around the handle of his drawer slowly.
Sliding it out, you look inside to see all of the typical things kept in a man’s nightstand, as well as some girlier things like a bundle of different pearl necklaces, but you’re not interested in that.
You’re more interested in the pink silk ribbons, that are long enough to wrap tightly around someone’s wrists and restrain them there.
‘Chris… are these for…’ you trail off, subconsciously squeezing his cock a little harder as your eyes sparkle at the cheeky silk ties. Chris nods, filling in the gaps for you and answering your suspicions with an ‘uhuh’.
Your hand dives in without a moment to lose, fishing out the exiting looking toys that you can play with. ‘Chris you little slut’ you giggle with a surprised air about you, admiring the way he looks at the ribbons as you place them on his bed.
‘Hey! M’not a slut!!’ He snaps his head back up to look at you, whining in offence, but you shake your head, finding that so fucking hard to believe.
‘Is that so… well, in that case I’ll just have to make you into one using them then’ you slur seductively, before slinging your leg over his naked lap. Chris nearly chokes at your fast actions whilst you fully straddle him and push his back into the headboard. Wrestling one of his wrists up to the holed wood Chris pants and slides his bottom half further down onto the bed so that he can lie on his torso whilst you tie his hand to the headboard. Chris doesn’t put up a fight… he wants this.
He’s wanted it for so long.
The second one doesn’t come long after.
He hisses suddenly at how tightly you had tied them, his wrists practically unable to move in their awkward position slung up over his head and pinned to the headboard. The pretty pink silk brushing against his skin delicately makes him ache, and he admires your work.
‘Where’d you learn how to do that?’ He utters in breathless wonder whilst you find it hard not to smirk at what you’re going to do next. ‘Practice’ you muse whilst Chris shuffles about, unable to get comfortable. Your hands then shoot out and come to rest on the yellow bandana neatly pushing back his long wavy hair.
‘W-wait, what are you doing?’ he stutters as you use them to gently slide the fabric down over his eyes. This conceals his line of vision, and you watch the way his fingers and arms flex helplessly, his mind immediately trying to move his hands to push the bandana back up onto his forehead. But it’s no use, and he moans in frustration when he realises that there’s no way he’s going to be able to slip the bandana back up because his wrists are restrained.
‘Fuck… t-that’s not fair!’ He cries out in defiance but all you do is snigger, getting off of the bed so that you can admire the way his long legs stretch out to the bottom of his bed and kick about restlessly, his cock still red and throbbing whilst his colourful t-shirt rides up just above the curves of his slutty little waist. Strands of his soft looking hair fall over the yellow bandana that rests on the delicate curve of his nose whilst he twists his neck from side to side, his wrists bending and yanking helplessly against his silk ties.
‘Oh really? If you’re going to be a naughty boy and touch yourself like that without my permission then you’re going to be treated like a naughty boy’
Chris’ cheeks flame at how much he enjoys this degradation, his prick now painful and needing to be touched once again.
‘You got anymore requests before I give you what you want baby boy?’ You quip, extremely excited and getting wet at the fact that Chris has absolutely no idea what you’re going to do to him because of the blindfold obscuring his vision.
Chris hums, debating on whether or not to reveal to you his deepest and most yearned for sexual fantasy.
You don’t skate around his debate though, ‘Chris just say it, I think we’re a little too far into our friendship now to judge each other’. He sighs at this and stops biting his lip in contemplation.
‘Can I- can I call you mommy? Please’ he shyly requests and your stomach squeezes at the idea of being called mommy. You’re not surprised that Chris has a mommy kink, it’s pretty obvious with the way he carries himself, his actions are always so soft and delicate.
‘You can call me whatever you like Chris’ you say, before crawling back onto the bed. Chris’ back arches at the freedom you give him and his head twists from side to side yet again, trying to look in vain to see if there is anyway he can possibly clock where you are. But it’s no use. His makeshift blindfold has completely obliterated his sense of sight, equally, his sense of touch is also limited which heightens his other senses tenfold.
Running your finger tips up the inner sides of his thighs, he shivers with his breathing hitched and his shoulders heaving. He looks so sweet practically defenceless before you.
‘Go on then Chris… call me mommy… beg for it’. Chris whines into the back of his throat when he feels the pad of your thumb slowly sliding over his weeping tip. ‘Please mommy- call me a slut, I don’t care… just- just touch me’ he breathes, a surge of power flowing through your veins at the way you can make him unravel at the sound of your voice. Even the faintest of touches to his cock makes him worm about pathetically.
‘There’s a good boy’.
Finally, you find it right to praise him, and by god does it illicit the desired reaction. Chris’ lips curve up into a proud little smile, his legs spreading and his head throwing all the way back to put his powerful jaw on show, his masculine neck heavily contoured and highlighting his strong throat structure within the dim lighting of his room. ‘I am a good boy mommy’ he meekly responds back whilst your hand rewards him further by wrapping itself around him yet again.
He feels nice in your palm, warm and thick, precum dribbling down his tip and mixing with the lotion that is still making him sticky enough to easily slide your hand over him. And doesn’t he just look like the sweetest darling, all messy and panting beneath you?.
‘You like the way I touch you? Is this the kind of thing you dream about baby?’ You muse as you work your hand along him to stimulate his prick. You know he’s not going to last long, he had edged himself enough already before you had interrupted him. And you know that he is most likely going to have the most earth-shattering orgasm at your touch.
He nods shakily, his hips thrusting up accidentally to get more friction. ‘All the time’ he states, this time a little more confidently, and you hum in satisfaction.
‘You look pretty in pink baby boy’ you suddenly compliment him, and this makes Chris the happiest he’s been yet. He gets flustered and shy, especially after you stroke his ego with telling him he looks nice is his favourite colour. Something about someone complimenting him in that way makes him feel soft and light. ‘Thank you mommy…s’my favourite’ he shyly peeps, his voice as smooth as butter and making your thighs quiver. You’ll definitely be around at his place a lot more often after this to get even more of his strawberry goodness.
‘I know sweet boy… and that’s why you look so pretty in it’ you praise him even more, and he moans uncontrollably, his cock twitching within your hand. ‘Fuck, is my good boy ready to cum already?’.
He hums vigorously. ‘Y-yes mommy… so bad’. You sigh, feeling sad that this moment is over so soon, because he just looks so pretty tied up and blindfolded below you, but you conclude that he’s suffered enough already with having to hold on for this long, and so you let him cum.
‘Okay then sweet boy, you cum when you’re ready’.
And cum he does, a fuck load. It melts and drips all over his stomach, and Chris curses into the air after every time your hand works down his length with a squeezing motion to get rid of as much cum as you can. After the sticky strings of them are spent and Chris whines in overstimulation, you let go of his cock.
Chris thinks it’s over, and he cools down with his chest heaving and his mouth panting, that is, until you unexpectedly place your hands on his stomach, right into his puddle of cum.
Chris chokes when your hands start to make a slow ascent up his stomach, past his happy trail and up to his chest, absolutely covering him in his own cum. He moans at this, feeling your sticky fingers trailing over his rib cage. You smirk at him.
‘Thought you weren’t a slut Chris…? Good boys don’t like this kind of thing’.
His tilted head snaps back up, cutting his enjoyment short with a pout and a pitiful ‘but I am a good boy-’, his blindfold still completely concealing the way his eyes are probably glassing up with worry. ‘Really? Because I don’t think so…’ you tease once again, knowing that it’s just going to get him even more worked up. Gathering up a dollop of his cum onto two of your fingers you sneakily gravitated them up to his mouth whilst he fusses about underneath you.
To shut him up, you use your spare hand to open up his mouth fully and slot your two fingers onto his tongue. ‘Shhh, suck on this baby, you just focus on how you taste and I’ll worry about everything else, that’s what mommy’s are for yeah?’.
This quiet babying seems to work to get Chris to calm down, and his needy figure relaxes whilst curling his tongue around your two fingers and licking off his own cum. He swallows it all in one go. Removing your hand from his mouth, finally, you let him see once again by pulling off the yellow bandana, leaving his hair in a ruffled, fluffy mess.
His lips are blood red and his cheeks are a light pink, his silk ties matching his sheepish complexion whilst he watches you unravel them. After they’re removed, you look to see the red marks they’ve left on Chris’ wrists from how tightly they had been tied and equally how hard Chris had been tugging against them within his pleasure filled trance.
Suddenly you begin to giggle. And you can’t stop. A tired looking Chris gazes over at you in confusion, his stomach and chest shining with a trail of his own cum.
‘What?’
He shuffles around insecurely, his shyness once again blocking up any other emotion.
‘Nothing… it’s just… I kinda always knew you had a mommy kink after you mumbled it in your sleep one time I was staying over. Think you were having a wet dream’.
Chris goes red once again, his eyes widening as he smacks his lips, grabbing his fluffy white pillow and affectionately hitting your head with it at not telling him sooner that you had actually heard something you shouldn’t have.
This of course, initiates a playful pillow fight between the two of you, which slowly transitions into somewhat of a messy make out session with your tongues twisting against each other’s and your noses brushing before you both collectively hear the sound of the smoke alarm going off in the kitchen.
You gasp and pull away from Chris’ sugary lips.
‘FUCK, THE BROWNIES!’
Author’s notes p.2: phew that was a lot. Can u guys tell I love the colour pink?? I’m lowkey obsessed with coquette baby girl Chris ngl, he’s literally the male embodiment of a Melanie Martinez song. I hope u guys enjoyed my take on sub!Chris, but request and ask me anything as always!! :) @luverboychris this one is for you wife, I know you’ve been waiting for it <3
Taglist: @lovingmattysposts @luvmila444 @luverboychris @luv4kozume @strniohoeee @sturniolosreads @thesturniolos @vecnasnose0 @meanttomeet @ellie-luvsfics @matthemunch @mattsleftnipple03 @robins-scoop @asturniolos @imwetforyourmom @sturnioloenthusiast @breeloveschris @kvtie444 @rootbeerworshiper @strawberrysturniolo @chr1sgirl4life @hrt-attack @gigisworldsstuff @stargirlsturniololover @imlidewwallyhittingdagwiddy @sturniololoverr @jahlisa22 @bernardsgf @luvasr @meg-sturniolo @blahbel668 @liz-stxrn @sturnreblog @ratatioulle @isabellehoran @carolsturns1 @1800chokedathoe @lovergirl4387 @sophie21153-blog
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neopuppy · 6 months
Note
I don't know if your hard hours are still open but the pic you posted for it is def giving like emo hot skater boy massive c!ck energy and idk maybe like a kinda cocky reader who doesn't believe skater boy jeno is hung and he has to show the reader (who might be acting like a brat) what they're missing 🫣 could be interesting I don’t know
warnings. unprotected public penetration, dubcon, Jaemin’s here for a show—and to film
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“He thinks he’s so cool.”
“That’s ‘cause he is.” Your friend drawls on dreamily, chin perched between her knees where you sit together along the skate bowl. “He’s in a band, he has tattoos, and he has a huge cock.”
With a loud sarcastic scoff you roll your eyes dramatically, piping up to talk down to her. “Oh yeah? Because you’ve seen it firsthand?!”
“No,” she says annoyed. “Not yet, but everyone knows Jeno’s packing! He talks about it all the time!”
“Exactly.” You bark, poking at her arm. “He talks about it all of the time, but that’s it. He’s nothing but talk, and if a guy really had all that going on, he wouldn’t need to brag like that loser does.”
“That’s not true, he has like— a reputation!” She fusses, sitting up to hang her legs along the inside of the pool. “Girls always gossip about how he leaves them feeling stretched for days. You’re just a hater.”
“He’s full of shit.” You continue to accuse, glaring at Jeno across the way flexing his arms and showing off his now completed sleeve with a cocky grin that’s growing larger by the second. “He’s so annoying, tiny dick bitch.”
“What’d you just say?!?”
Shit. Jaemin.
“Huh?” Playing dumb, you shoo him off, swiping your phone open to quickly change the topic.
Jaemin snatches the device from your grip, holding it over the bowl with threat to drop it to the concrete from a high point. “Hey! What the hell!” You shoot up, jumping to smack his arm and reach for your phone. “You asshole!”
“Who is a tiny dick bitch?” He grins, playfully pushing you away with a palm against your chest. “Hey Jeno!” He whistles, breaking apart the conversation his best friends’ been entertaining for the last 40 minutes.
“What?! Can’t you see that I’m busy!”
“You need to hear this!” Jaemin calls out, motioning for him to come close. Jeno grunts loudly, holding up a finger toward the swarm of girls drooling around him.
“One sec.” He trudges over annoyed, finally glancing at you, fast enough to miss before he shoots a glare at Jaemin. “What the fuck? I was about to leave and fuck—“
“With your tiny dick?” Jaemin laughs, winking at you. “Can you believe this brat’s going around telling everyone you got a little baby cock?”
“What?!?” Jeno’s face instantly hardens, flushing red up to his ears with anger before averting his attention to you. “What the fuck are you on about?!”
Jaemin clears his throat, pocketing your phone to grab his and pull open a video he just finished recording behind your back, proving everything you’d just said.
“Oh, I’m all talk?!” Jeno stalk’s forward, forcing your legs to move back and flicker your gaze away quickly for a fast escape. “Tiny dick bitch?!”
“Yeah! Shriveled up little pinky dick!” You shriek, breaking off into a run with Jeno and Jaemin fast to chase after you.
“Shitshitshit!” The only advantage you have is lack of weight on your back, having left your bag back at the skatepark hoping that your friend will have the decency to pick it up for you.
A bus pulls up just in time to jump on through the open back doors, hunched over too short of breath to notice Jeno and Jaemin pushing through the crowd from the front to find you hidden in the back corner. “God damnit.”
Jaemin’s tongue clicks, drawing your phone out between two fingers. “You don’t want this back?” He pouts, blinking tauntingly as Jeno rounds behind your back and presses up too close, leaving you with no choice but to be stuck sandwiched between them. “Damn you don’t even have a passcode on this.”
His eyes turn bright, unlocking your phone, working fast to open your photos and scroll through. “What the fuck.” He snorts, turning the screen toward Jeno. “Look at this shit, a whole album dedicated to you.”
“Jaemin, no!” You squeak, bubbling with embarrassment as Jeno reaches past you, slinking his other arm around your waist to keep you in place before he scrolls through the hundreds of screenshots from his socials.
“Aw, you’re really just mad you haven’t gotten to take my cock, huh?” Jeno leans in to whisper, chuckling against your ear. “You know it’s big.”
“You’re full of shit.” You snap, glaring from the corner of your eye at his flawless profile and sharp gaze scanning your face full of intrigue.
“Wanna find out for yourself?” The palm laid flat on your stomach strays to snatch your wrist and pull your arm behind your back, jerked forward as you resist only to collide with Jaemin’s broad chest. He smirks, wiggling eyebrows at you and opening up your phone’s camera, panning to your shocked face as Jeno places your hand against his heavy groin. “Your fucking hand can’t even cover my cock and you wanna call me small?”
“I said tiny.” You croak, doing your best to keep your fingers elongated and not squeeze around the bulge squished against your palm.
Jaemin laughs under his breath, directing the phone lower to film his fingers toying with the end of your skirt. “Come on Jeno.” He stands up straight, parting his legs open to barricade the space in front of you. “Slip it in real quick and let her find out just how tiny you are.”
Air gets caught in your throat, listening to Jeno hum in thought against your ear, drawing a long breath between his teeth. “That’s not a bad idea.” The sound of his zipper lowers, shoving your hand inside to rest along his thick girth, no boxers, nothing to separate your palm from hot smooth flesh lifted in different areas by what you can assume can only be large pulsing veins.
Large veins just like the ones lining Jeno’s sleek physique, rippling through his biceps even under the different shades and gradations of inked art running up and down his arm. He reaches forward to grip your chin and turn your face to the side, dark gaze locked on yours. “A lot of zoomed in shots in that album.”
He means the collection of his bulge and what you swore was a hard-on scattered within the album of his selfies and outfit shots, even the douchey shirtless gym mirror photos(because other than the lump between his thighs, those are your favorites).
“Think you can take it?” He slides over your hand, wrapping his long digits around to encase your palm around the base of his length, ripping a shocked(and elated) gasp from your lips. “Bet you can’t, you’d probably scream and cry to take it out before I even get 5 inches in.”
“Yeah.” Jaemin pipes in, holding your phone by your hips to get a shot of your hand lost inside his best friend's pants. “Talked a lot of shit back there, look at this mess.” He whistles again, tsk tsk tsking as he pushes your skirt up to film the shiny streaks trickling down your inner thighs. “If you’re this wet already, that only means one thing.”
“Cock slut.” Jeno bites, teeth clicking together as he gathers the back of your skirt up and fists your panties to one side harshly, popping the seams under his roughness.
“I can take your little cock.” You finally manage to speak, having to coat your throat with multiple gulps to make sure you don’t sound as pathetic as you feel. “Probably won’t even feel that shit.”
Jaemin’s mouth parts open shocked, panning to Jeno’s intense gaze, the veins along his throat quivering. “Just for that, I’ll make sure you take every inch.”
The bulbous tip of his length probes at your entrance, sliding past your slick wet hole between your folds to really make you feel just how wide he is. The fear and excitement of finally feeling Jeno’s cock firsthand and not vicariously through eavesdropping has your toes curling inside of your shoes, reaching to wrap your hands around his forearm tucked under your ribcage, digging your nails into the different colorful tattoos.
He presses in closer, forehead rolling against yours as he leads the tip back to your entrance and pokes in, rubbing the slit against your tense muscle. “Fuck, how am I supposed to fit inside this tight pussy?”
Jaemin swallows, turning the camera to selfie mode, holding it between your thighs to watch the close up view of his best friend's massive size forcing way past your tight hole. “Don’t think she can.” He says mostly to himself, enjoying the voyeuristic sensation more than he’d expected, cock twitching the longer he watches Jeno tease at your entrance.
“Put it in.” You mumble, near the brink of tears. “Put your stupid useless little cock inside of me already.”
Jeno’s entire expression turns furious, gripping the middle of his girth firmly to force the head of his length in despite the snapping resistance he’s met with. “Fuck.”
Kissing the backs of his teeth, he pauses to feel your muscle suck around him, pulsating rapidly as tears silently pass down your cheeks and your lips tighten shut to keep in a broken mewl. “Now, imagine that..” he struggles to say calmly, panting heavily against your ear. “But 9 more inches, buried all the way in. Nice and deep.”
Jaemin groans in agreement, tapping under your navel. “Right here.”
Jeno kneads under one of your breasts to quell the need to thrust further in, twitching as he counts each tear drop flowing down past your chin. “Imagine it.” He says, pulling the tip out with an obscene pop that garners the attention of a few bystanders who turn to look for less than a second.
He pats your exposed buttcheek, snapping your underwear back into place. “Because you’re never going to get it now sweetheart.”
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vilnmelling · 4 days
Text
NPMD Digital Ticket details!
Since not every can/can afford to/wants to buy the Digital Ticket for Nerdy Prudes Must Die (and the bonus material that comes with the purchase), for your inclusion purposes, here's a list of fun background details, funny moments and comments made in the track commentary, for you to use however you like!
Ruth doesn't actually need to wear her headgear anymore, but she wears it anyway because it makes her feel safe.
Jeff pitched a Nightmare Time episode about the problematic puppy from Steph's verse of High School Is Killing Me, meaning there is a story there.
In the line, "I learned that at the anti bullying assembly last month, fucknugget!" there's a long pause before "Fucknugget!" which really makes it sound like Max forgot to insult Richie and just threw the word out.
All of the little noises Ruth makes, she makes because she has more she wants to say, but she can't say them (presumably due to anxiety).
In the proshot, you can't see fully how low Richie goes while he and Ruth sneak up on Peter, but Jon is fully crouched down. He then uses Pete's pockets and elbows to climb up like he's climbing a mountain (he mimes using a pick or axe to get good hold).
While Steph is talking, Ruth and Richie try their best to hear through the phone by getting as close as they can to it.
The reason Max and Jason were in the Pasqualli's parking lot is that they were practicing their skateboarding. They do that at Pasqualli's instead of at school/at a skatepark because they don't want the smoke club and skater kids to make them look like noobs. (This was a cut bit from the Pasqualli's scene).
The line, "Some big... dumb... sexy... football star" is expanded. In the Digital Ticket, Grace says, "Some big... dumb... sexy... sweaty... hot... well-spoken... beautifully tall football star."
When they're in the boys bathroom, Steph jumps to see over the stalls.
Richie Naruto runs when they're going to Waylon Hall. Pete slaps his hands down, but after they pause to look at the house, Richie looks over his shoulders at Pete a couple of times before darting away from him, once again Naruto running.
Richie stops in the door at the Waylon Place, so Pete pushes him inside.
Ruth and Richie speak at the same time when they say, "I'm allergic to deodorant" and "I have overactive sweat glands."
Ruth goes straight to Richie to complain after the "pus in my pits" exchange with Steph.
When Steph suggests saying there's a party at the Waylon Place, Pete, Ruth and Richie all react negatively (mostly nervously groaning).
While Grace sings the "He's just a nerd in disguise!" line, Richie can be seen practicing the first move of the Bully the Bully dance.
After Ruth says, "We're gonna cut off his nips!" you can see Steph look confused and ask, "What?"
While Pete and Richie talk in the Waylon Place ("Am I reading as ghost or Lin Manuel Miranda" & "She came all the way out here just for you."), Ruth and Steph discuss and practice Ruth's skeleton moves.
Richie gets stuck in the dangling parts of Pete's costume when he says, "You could just hit it and quit it, bro!" He then aggressively detangles himself.
The line "He's just really fucking brave!" comes from Richie being jealous that he's not that brave.
Richie hypes Ruth up a bit after Max says her skeleton bit was really special.
Grace hides behind Ruth while Max is dying.
Richie rolls his eyes when Grace says "It was an act of god!" (Similarly, Shapiro sighs and looks away in disbelief when Grace later says "It was god's plan!")
Pete gags when Grace says "Hack all his limbs off." Richie can also be seen gagging and holding his stomach several times.
Ruth hands Max's nipples over to Grace after cutting them off.
Jeff Blim is the principal of Hatchetfield High. Not a character of Jeff's, just Jeff himself.
Brenda still seems quite judgmental after the two weeks have passed. She makes a lot of not-quite-friendly faces when the football team's talking about Richie smelling bad.
When Richie struggles to remove the Zeke the Fightin' Nighthawk costume, he accidentally removes his jacket as well, leading to Jon having to put it back on (which he also struggles with) (and which creates a funny situation, since Richie was supposed to go shower).
Richie seems to have hurt his leg by the second fall in Nerdy Prudes Must Die (the song).
After Steph tells Grace to "Leave Ruth alone!" in the principal's office, Ruth tries to grab Steph's hand.
The wig Joey wears when he plays Dan Reynolds isn't Dan's real hair. Dan Reynolds wears a toupée.
Trevor and Angela's drama student encourage each other after they finish rehearsing.
Additional line when Grace is lying to Shapiro: "Suddenly, I remembered a crucial detail that made everything make sense. A picture came flashing into my mind, like I was Enola Holmes!"
"My dad sells women shoe! Shoes!"
Angela misses the chair at Beanie's and falls on her ass, leading to her, Joey and Mariah (mostly Mariah) breaking character.
During The Summoning, Tinky focuses ONLY on Pete. The entire time, he looks like he's restricting himself from lunging out and attacking him. At one point, he points at the Bastard's Box while staring at Pete.
90% of the time during The Summoning, Pokey's staring at his own mask.
Steph facepalms after Max says "That's nasty! ... I like it!"
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hannie-dul-set · 10 months
Text
YOU(R SHOELACES) ARE PRETTY.
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p — PARK SUNGHOON x gn! reader. g — fluff, meet cute. w — swearing, secondhand embarrassment because sunghoon doesn't know how to to talk to cute people. 706 words.
note — park sunghoon is a rizzless loser pass it on. PART TWO. if you enjoy loser! hoon, you might also enjoy this other series of mine.
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you only came along with your friends to the skatepark because you had nothing better to do, but now you’re starting to regret that decision because for some reason— while you’re sitting on the stands all by yourself, minding your own damned business because you don’t know how to fucking skate— you’ve caught the attention of six to seven guys who don’t look very friendly.
what the hell? why are they staring? sweat starts to wet your palms as you duck down to untie and retie your shoelaces because their staring was really starting to make you uncomfortable. they look like a group of freaking delinquents. they’re definitely nothing but trouble.
but you regret taking your subtle glances off of them for a second too long because for some god damned reason, one of them started to roll up to you.
you feign ignorance, playing with the laces on your other foot because maybe he isn’t skating to your direction. maybe he’s going to make a turn to the ramps or some shit. maybe he’s just passing by and— of fuck, he’s literally three feet away from you now, and he’s got an ice cold face, and a very terrifying scowl, and he looks like he’s about to curb stomp you three feet into the ground.
he’s leering down at you with his hands in his pockets, posture leaned slightly back and confident. his thick eyebrows are slightly furrowed with a frown that’s housing a lollipop stick. he’s handsome, but he looks like he wants to fight you. he’s pretty, but he also looks like he’d call you a pretty stupid bitch. the kuromi band-aid on his cheek doesn’t make him any less intimidating. he takes out the lollipop from his with a pop!
you wince, ready to piss yourself in fear until you hear him say, “h—hey.”
his voice cracks. you look up.
“i think you’re— i think you—” you failed to notice the red staining his neck earlier, nor the sweat nervously trickling down his forehead. you should’ve known he’d be harmless from the cute bandaid decorating his cheek. all the fear you felt is melted every time he stumbles on his words, every time his cheeks grow increasingly pinker by the second, until he gives up and turns around to yell at the group he separated from to tell them to, “shut the fuck up!”
they’re cheering him on, “you can do it, sunghoon!” you’re more confused than you’ve ever been. 
the guy you assume is named sunghoon snaps his head back down to face you, brows that were once knitted in annoyance quickly scrunching into a nervous jitter and he measures up a smile that matches his confidence— faltering and falling apart. you’re starting to feel bad.
“i just...i just wanted to say that i think you’re really—”
go on, you encourage him with a nod. you can do it. maybe you shouldn’t have tried to help him, because the moment you give him an assuring smile, ten million emotions flash through his face at once— shock, fluster, panic in shades of pink, rose, and cherry— until he ultimately settles with defeat when he sinks his head down with a pair of hands covering his face, but he can’t hide the color tinting his ears.
“i think...your shoelaces are pretty.”
his voice is muffled. he looks like he wants the ground to eat him.
“thank you?”
“no problem.”
sunghoon spins around, puts the lollipop back into his mouth, and kicks the ground once before letting the momentum from the roller skates slide him back to the direction where he came from, but he’s sliding slowly and pitifully enough for you to hear the, “oh god, oh no, i’m so fucking stupid, oh no—” sputtering from his mouth in quiet grumbles and hisses as his friends continue to cheer him on from a distance.
the back of his neck is still searing red. when he reaches his friends you watch as his legs give up and he sinks into the ground with a cry of anguish.
maybe you shouldn’t have judged the poor guy too quickly. maybe he just wanted to tell you that he thinks you(r shoelaces) are pretty.
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YOU(R SHOELACES) ARE PRETTY.
© hannie-dul-set, 2023.
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gemini-sensei · 8 months
Text
Pretty Boy, Good Girl | Robby Keene x Chubby!Reader
Fem!Reader ○ S1 Robby ○ Smut
(@sensei-venus)
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"Hey, pretty boy!"
Robby looked up, seeing a girl leaning over the rail from a ledge that overlooked the skatepark. She was curvy with wide hips and fat tits that were held in a tight tank top. She was sucking up some sun as it was a bright day, hardly any clouds rolling in, and she held a round lollipop. She waved at him before putting the sweet treat back in her mouth, and he couldn't help watching the way her lips wrapped around it.
He checked her out a little longer, especially her chest as she stood bent over the rail, and smirked. He licked his lips, then turned to the bowl to skate a little more. He showed off a bit, doing a few tricks. He'd look over ever so often to see if he was being watched, finding some pride when he saw her smile.
He didn't keep it up too long, eventually walking over to the girl. "And what's your name, beautiful?"
Reader grinned and introduced herself. He leaned against the railing beside her and watched her suck on the lollipop. They flirted a little bit until her candy was all gone, at which point she got closer to Robby. A few touches and sweet words later she was leading him to her car, where they climbed in the hatchback.
They weren't complete strangers. They went to different schools, but they'd passed each other on the street. She came by the skatepark often with some friends and he'd see her there, laughing and having a fun time. She'd watch him from afar, eventually getting the courage to ask him out in one way or another.
He was sitting against the wall of the car, his pants around his ankles and her hot mouth in him. She sucked on the head of his dick hard, looking up at him with her pretty eyes. As soon as he made eye contact with her, she closed her eyes and took more of him into her mouth. He bit his lip and groaned, feeling his tip hit the back of her throat. She gagged a little bit but kept going. As she brought her head up, she hollowed her cheeks and sucked hard.
"Oh fuck," he grunted.
He felt like he was in heaven, even though the back of her car was a lit hot and getting stuffy. He panted hard, hands planted on the floorboard, and held back from trusting up into her mouth. It was so good, but only got better when she started deepthroating him.
She made him come a lot faster than he wanted to, but he didn't care too much as he tried to catch his breath. She sat up and swallowed the fat loud he'd filled her mouth with, a little bit dribbling down the corner of her mouth. He wiped it away with his thumb and pushed it into her mouth. She moaned with surprise, then licked it clean.
"You're such a good girl," he said, smirking at her as she grinned at the praise. She nodded and he bit his lip. "Good girls deserve rewards. What do you want?"
"You're cock," she whispered softly, licking her lips.
He used his free hand to pump his cock and keep it hard. She looked down to watch, the taste of his cum still on her tongue. Her panties were getting wetter by the second and she couldn't take it anymore, so she shimmered out of them and tossed them over the seat. Robby took her hips into his hands as she came closer to him, her knees on either side of him.
"Is this okay?" He asked, looking up at her as she stood on her knees before him. He secretly loved this angle, seeing her over him like this, and he couldn't wait to feel her sit on his lap and ride his cock. He rubbed the tip through her folds, wetting his already saliva-lubed cock with her essence.
She nodded, anchoring herself by grabbing his shoulders. Just the simple touch of his cock to her folds was tantalizing and ticking away at her winning patience. Then, she slowly started lowering herself onto his cock, letting out a low moan. He stretched her open deliciously but she kept going until she was fully seated on his lap. His hands slipped down and grabbed her fat ass by the handfuls, pulling her close against him.
"Oh my god," she moaned, eyes rolling up. Her chest pushed against his, though they still wore their shirts. It still felt good and her hardened nipples were still stimulated and her head was spinning. "Fuck, you're so big"
She took little time for herself to adjust to his size, knowing they had little time to fuck in the back of a public park's parking lot. So she began grinding her hips down on him harshly, knowing if she started bouncing she might hit her head on the roof. Keeping things quick and simple was the way to go and Robby helped her in that endeavor, lightly pulling her forward with the tight hold he had on her ass. For the most part, she was in control and he was almost drooling over it.
She moaned so pretty as he grunted and groaned under her, watching the place where they met and the mess they were making. She was gushing with arousal, it dripping down his balls as they went at it. The closer she got to coming, the louder she got, at which point he pulled her in for a deep, heady kiss where he tasted himself on her and groaned into her mouth. It was so hot.
"I'm gonna come soon," he warned her.
She half nodded. "Me too."
It would end up being he would come first, holding onto the rolls up her side as a means of anchoring. Her walls constricted around him tight as he throbbed and pumped her full of his cum. Despite it being his second orgasm, he came quite a bit, overfilling her cunt to the point it began to leak out around his shaft. Then it wasn't long after that, she came and pulled what weak shots he had left for her out of him. It was heavy as the mess settled between them, far too much to just clean up and part ways.
But she didn't seem to mind as she collapsed against his chest, her head falling onto his shoulder. She panted hard as it all came to a standstill and he went soft inside her.
When they got their bearing together, she giggled and mentioned the mess that there was no point in trying to hastily clean up. "That's gonna need a lot more than just some towels."
"Yeah," he huffed. His eyes widened as she lifted herself off of him, seething as his sensitive cock slipped out of her. Then a hefty amount of cum followed from her cunt and slid down his cock to his balls. "Oh fuck."
"You can always come to my place and get cleaned up," she suggested, wearing a cheeky grin. There was a glint in her eyes that he found he agreed with, and it said: We're not done yet.
He nodded. "Okay."
So they made themselves presentable and got into the front seats. She drove him toward her place with one hand on his cock, making a mess of his pants as she palmed him all the way there. He kept his eyes on her most of the time until he realized they were driving into a cushy, upscale neighborhood and he was checking out the houses ten times bigger than his apartment.
He had no idea what he'd just gotten himself into, but when she led him into her house and up to her thousand-dollar bathroom, he happily fucked her in her lush, far from a little shower. Their fun had only just begun.
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elliesmistress · 4 months
Text
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Skater Ellie
WORD COUNT: 1.3K
Readers notes: This is my first time writing smut so hopefully this doesn't suck, open to suggestions about what to write next :) Brooooooo's it's the 25th of Jan and I just realized the proofreading changed it to "pussy cat" and "clitoral area" SO SORRY PEEPS
Summary: You and Ellie had been friends since you were 14, and you guys had a habit of getting stoned and sneaking out to go to the skatepark to have some fun.
WARNINGS: Reader is religious, fingering (r-receiving), Oral (r-receiving) weed, swearing, both are legal age for consent! 18+ MDNI (Minors do not interact, or do I don't really care) Reader is bisexual, slightly getting caught but not in action, sneaking out, grinding, NO USES OF Y/N.
You and Ellie have been skater buddies for at least 2 years now. You guys met at a party when you were 14 you are now 16 and Ellie is 17.
You had been mindlessly scrolling on your phone for about 30 minutes, having a smoking session with Ellie before going to the skatepark.
"Broooo, look at this guy," you say, holding up your phone to Ellie's face of a guy you thought was attractive.
Ellie squints her face and makes a sound of disgust; she doesn't even say anything.
"What?!" You say it with a slight whine in your tone.
"Nothing; he's just... not that hot," Ellie says, grabbing the joint from your hands. "Plus, you could do way better than some random guy."
"I don't know Ellie," you chuckle slightly before looking at the time. "Shit, it's 10.03; we should go to the skatepark now."
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Luckily, the walk wasn't too long from your house—only about 15 minutes. You reach into your pocket to grab a lighter and a joint. You look over at Ellie, who was wearing a sports bra and some baggy jeans, and her Calvin Klein waistband boxers are visible. You could see her abs, and she's toned as fuck.
"Alright, I'm going to go do some Ollie's to warm up; let me know when you want to join," Ellie says, grabbing the joint from your hand, lighting it up, and skating away.
You sit down on a bench and smoke more before going out and joining Ellie.
"Ahh, look who finally decided to join," Ellie teases, and you laugh.
"Gonna do some fakies to warm up as well; what are you going to do?" You say this to Ellie, and she turns her head away.
"Uh, Finna, do a drop-in from that ramp." Her voice is raspy, and she points at the ramp. "Are you going to do some?" Ellie questions.
"Yeah, I'll come now." You say you picked up your skateboard and put it between your armpits and ribs.
Ellie does a few drop-ins from the ramp; you're smiling at the top as she goes down. You both are pretty high, so you both giggle at nothing.
"Your go!" Ellie yells from the bottom, "Ellieeeee," you whine, "It's so fucking far down."
"You'll be fine. I promise, just do it; I'll record it!" She slightly yells, grabs out her phone, and starts recording. You position the board up to the ramp, putting your left foot on the end of the board and your right foot in the middle of the board. You breathe in and just go for it.
"WOAHHH!!! HOLY FUCK! That was so much fucking fun, oh my god!" You scream and giggle. Ellie comes over to you and hugs you. "See, I told you it wasn't that hard." She puts her hands on your shoulders, looks into your eyes, and you look at her lips. She notices this and takes her hand off your shoulders.
You and Ellie go to Macca's and grab some food, and then go back to the park and just talk, like you always do—talk about your family, about school. You guys were laughing and giggling the entire time.
You hadn't realized that you had zoned out; you don't know how long, but you looked at your phone. Fuck it's 1.58 AM.
You move over to Ellie to show her your phone screen; it was videos of Ellie skating you had gotten of her.
"We gotta go home soon," you say to Ellie in a quiet voice, feeling super tired from all the weed. "Ya, let's go soon," she replies.
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About an hour later, you both finally arrive home, still high. You both had to try your absolute best not to crack up laughing while walking through the house. You make it to your room, shutting the door quietly so you don't wake anyone up.
Ellie plonks herself on your bed. This was a pretty standard night for you two; you both would get stoned, sneak out, and go to the skatepark around 10 p.m. You both always had to be super careful as your parents were so fucking religious, and if they found out you smoked and sneaked out, they'd fucking kill you on the spot, but luckily they've never caught you.
You take off your shorts and t-shirt, facing away from Ellie. You then take off your bra. You were wearing a G-string, which was your favorite type of pants to wear. Ellie never cared about it, and you never got worried about her seeing your ass. You reach over and grab an oversized t-shirt before putting it on.
"You know you can borrow my clothes; you don't have to sleep in jeans," you say, turning around, turning off the light, and going into the bed under the covers. Ellie goes under the covers as well.
"I'll just take them off," she says, taking off her jeans, and she's now only left with her sports bra and boxers.
You suddenly felt super awake. You squeezed your legs together slightly, trying to ignore how horny you had gotten. What did I get turned on by?? Did Ellie turn me on?? Fuck, hopefully she doesn't notice.
"You good?" She giggles, looking at you, who looked deep in thought. She snaps you out of your trance. "Fuck, ya, I'm good." You slightly bite your lip, looking at Ellie's lips. "What?" She asks, and you giggle a bit. "So pretty," you whisper, and Ellie just looks at you.
It went silent for god knows how long, but you decided to break the silence.
"Ellie?" You whisper and hear a subtle, "Hmm?"
"Can I kiss you?" You stutter, and Ellie faces you as soon as you say this.
"I thought you'd never ask." She smiles before bringing you into a passionate kiss, her tongue sliding into your mouth and dominating the kiss. You put your hands on her cheek before moving to straddle her waist. She puts her hands on your waist to steady you.
Ellie's massaging your tits as you slowly grind on her, hitting your clit area; soft moans leave your lips; and small grunts are leaving Ellie's mouth.
You start to grind faster on Ellie, making you moan a little bit louder. These walls aren't thick; no one will hear you, though, right? You can feel your orgasm about to hit. You felt embarrassed that you were going to cum this fast, and you were sure Ellie wasn't even that close yet.
"Can I try something?" Ellie says, and you look at her, nodding. "Sure," you say. Ellie immediately goes on top of you, pulling your pants down. "Fuck," you moan quietly at her sudden movements. She doesn't waste any time. She puts her mouth to your clit, making you grab her hair, pushing on her head slightly, and covering your mouth so you don't moan too loudly.
"Oh god, Ellie," you say, rolling back your eyes slightly and squirming away from Ellie, but Ellie holds your thighs so you can't get away. She laughs against your clitoral area, and the vibrations from her laugh almost make you cum.
"Your pussy is twitching," Ellie says. Slowly, she puts her middle finger to your hole before slowly pushing it in, making you groan, and Ellie just laughs. "So tight," she says, and it makes you blush. Ellie adds another finger, making you moan loudly and rolling your eyes, and the grip on Ellie's hair is tighter than ever before. You basically start getting yourself off on Ellie's fingers, grinding on them, trying to get as much friction as possible. She curves her fingers  up to hit your g-spot, making you cum. Your legs start to shake. You didn't know it was possible for your eyes to roll back so far. You close your thighs on Ellie's head. You pant, trying to get your breath back.
Ellie lays on top of you, kissing your neck and your lips. "You did so well, baby," Ellie says as you rub her back.
You both eventually drift off to sleep before waking up to your mother pounding on your bedroom door and her bursting in to see Ellie half naked in your bed and your pants thrown across the room. You had nothing below your waist, Well shit.
201 notes · View notes
seattlesellie · 10 months
Note
skater gf Ellie that holds your hips when teaching you how to ride , loves to teach you how to balance <3 she would love to do little tricks for you <3 and if you fell she would run over to you and wouldn't let you practice with her anymore because she doesnt want you to get hurt :((( all like "baby no more practicing, I don't want you to hurt yourself. go slow no more tricks ok"
also the type of gf that wants you to kiss the bruises all over her knees from a day at the park <333
“go slow no more tricks, okay?” stop stop it right now im about to cry
skater gf!ellie who makes you put on a silly little helmet after you get hurt for the first time and youre all whiny “but ellie… i look so dumb” and she tries to hold her laugh cause you really do look a little stupid but she’s just “no you dont, babe you look so cool”… and then she takes it off of you and puts it on herself; “would you say that i look dumb with this on?” and she like points at it and smirks and you’re like “yeah… i think you do” and you’re all pouty but she puts it on you again, “well, m’sorry babe but i’m not the one who keeps falling down” n then pats it so it shakes around your head & tightens the strings and makes sure its protecting you just right :((
skater gf!ellie who has your hand intertwined with hers as you skate away in your silly helmet and she runs with you and stops you when you go too fast & picks you up off of the skate cause she can’t help it and then spins you around and tries to kiss you but that helmet bumped her forehead so she takes it off— “fuck it” and kisses you ughhh
skater gf!ellie who is so overdramatic when she falls and pretends to have a limp just to see you go down on your knees and kiss her on the thigh !! caresses your head when you give her little kisses “there you go” n shes all “thanks babe, feel so much better now” and she almost chuckles at how sweet you are and gives you the biggest puppy eyes known to man
skater gf! ellie who shows you her “cool tricks” and makes dorky noises like “POW” “look at me babe” and then if one of the tricks goes wrong she gets all frustrated and is like “ok no— the floor is fully crooked i need to find a flat space hold on” and insists on showing you them right and gets so excited and happy when you’re impressed
“its nothing… learned it in like a day” and its not even true!! it took her a week and 7 scratches on her knees.
skater gf! ellie who gets so excited to bring you out to the skatepark for the first time & shes all proud with her arm around your waist cause all of her cool skater friends can finally see her girlfriend like they thought she was lying but here you are !! she fully has a gf and shes so proud and thinks shes all cool and badass and they’re like “oh shit… we thought you were making shit up”
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slvthrs · 11 months
Text
ALL THE THINGS WE NEVER SAID | vinnie hacker
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— MINORS PLEASE FUCK OFF FOR UR OWN GOOD —
after 3 years you finally reunite with vinnie but it's not how you would like
OLD BSF!VINNIE X FEM!READER
WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT MINORS DNI, ANGSTY, + some fluff, sex, alcohol ment, drug use (weed), making out, grinding, praise kink, emotional cheating idk, slight possessiveness
word count:  2.5k <3
The air is so salty on LA beaches.
It burns the inside of my throat whilst chlorine fills up my nose and salt in my eyes but the waves are nicer than Seattle. Warmer too.
I can feel the sand bed on my toes and shells scraping the sides of my legs as I float out peering and the sky and the way the shades of orange and yellow melt away at the baby blue and how the sun looks so majestic at this time.
I’m still slightly tipsy from the drinks we had earlier but I'm not incapacitated, it's just a nice buzz, it reminds me of when I lay my head down in the grass and I can hear the tiny shuffling of ants.
But apparently I’m still drunk enough to not hear my friends shouting from shore for me to come back until I feel a hand on mine pulling me out.
“Jesus, I thought you were gonna drown out there.” It’s Harvey, I love Harvey. He always smells like strawberries and smokes with me without judging.
“I wasn’t, let me like the ocean in peace you guys are assholes.” I retorted but I didn't stop walking with him back to the shore with my friends.
I fall back onto the plush of the towel as Harvey joins everyone else in a game of beach volleyball.
Well everyone except me… and Vinnie.
Vinnie, the same guy that I was inseparable for 10 years, now seeing him for the first time in 3.
The same guy I fell in love with at 13 and who broke my heart at 17. 
That Vinnie.
He’s sitting right in front of me in his shorts leaning back looking at everyone playing.
He has tattoos now and is much bigger. His hair is darker and face is more aged. He dresses better now and looks a lot happier but besides that he's still the same Vinnie.
I tuck my legs into my chest and rest my head on my knees, letting myself take in everything that changed about him to distract me from the cold wind tangling up my hair.
He finally looks back at me and something about it makes me still smile after all these years.
“M’ sorry I didn’t know you were gonna be here.” I mumble and then look away from him.
“Why are you sorry? I love seeing you.” He still has that same warmth in his voice that I fell in love with all those years ago.
“Just… I don’t know, I figured it’d be weird for you and her.” There's a maliciousness in my voice that I didn’t even know I could muster.
“Right… Allison.” He takes a deep breath, “ She likes you, don't worry!”
Allison, Vinnie’s new girlfriend of two months, she’s really sweet and a genuinely kind person but I can’t bring myself to like her.
I feel so pathetic, being in love with the same boy who hurt me all those years ago and who was able to move on whilst I stayed where I was. The same 17 year old stuck in bed the night Vinnie told me he loved me.
“Do you wanna go smoke?” 
I don’t think I’ve ever said no to that question from Vinnie but now it’s different.
“Shouldn’t you ask her first?” I say averting my gaze from him and playing with my nails.
“She hates when I smoke so probably not,” He gets up and walks to me giving me his hand, “Get up.”
“Get up!”
“Vinnie fuck off this shit is broken.” I stand up and shove the skateboard into his chest.
“C’mon you barely even tried it’s actually very fun, please I wanna teach you!” He says beaming in the sun and smiling at me whilst I try to clean the cuts on my legs.
“You're a shit teacher, Hacker!”
We’ve been at this skatepark for four hours and the only thing I can do is go in a straight line and wiggle a bit and Vinnie knows how much I hate things I don’t get the hang of quickly.
“You're torturing me Vinnie, I’m gonna leave here with a cut off leg or something!” I cry out
“You're gonna be fine, I'm not gonna let you get hurt.” He pouts in a faux puppy dog face
“I hate you so much.”
“Stop being a pussy!”
“Stop being a pussy Vin.” He’s been dragging me to this secluded part of the beach for 5 minutes
“My girlfriend hates smokers, I really don’t wanna get into another fight tonight.” He sighs
Another?
“Why don’t you try to quit? I know you want to, you hate smoking.” 
“It’s easier said than done- See we're here, you're just lazy!”
“Tell me something I don’t know, genius.” I half-joke
The view is nice, like really nice. It's so much quieter and less people means you can see the ocean without any distractions.
I lay down on the sand forgetting about the fact I'll be covered in it when I get up- That's a problem for me in the future.
He takes out a mini bong and packs it whilst I lay there and close my eyes.
This is nice, it reminds me of when we were younger. I was actually the first person to introduce Vinnie to weed and it kinda became our ritual, he would get the bing ready and I would wait patiently for him.
I can hear the bubbles and turn to look at him as he turns his head up, flexing his jaw and blowing the smoke out. 
He always looks so pretty smoking.
“Do you ever miss it?” I ask, purposefully vague.
“Miss what?” 
Us
“Seattle?”
“Yeah, especially during the summer. It’s hard to miss it that much when I come back every month to see my family.” He replies by passing the bong to me along with the lighter as I sit up.
“But you never come visit me?” I turn my head and he looks away into the ocean
“I know… I wanted to but everytime I mustered up the courage something would get in the way… Plus whenever I saw your pictures you looked happy, I didn’t wanna fuck that up.” 
“So your solution was to invite to to the beach with your new girlfriend and all your old friends instead of I don’t know, talking to your fucking bestfriend instead of ignoring her for 3 years making her feel like she fucked up?” It come out in a condescending tone
Every sour emotion that I held against Vinnie is bubbling up. Every emotion I felt when I saw a picture of him with his new friends, when he got his first girlfriend in LA, when he won that stupid fucking match and didn’t even reply to my dm congratulating him. 
“I know I fucked up trust me,” The bong is still in my hands, lying their idly like a forgotten childrens toy, “But even if I did talk to you whenever I would come back I wouldn’t even know what to say to you.”
“Oh fuck off Vinnie, you could have said anything, I was waiting for you to say anything. Apologies are two words but you couldn’t even muster that up? God I hate you so much.”
I don’t.
“I’m sorry,” He breathes in, “I’m sorry I stopped talking to you, I’m sorry I fucked everything up, I’m sorry I never actually told you how I felt, I’m sorry I made you feel like it was your fault, I’m sorry I ruined the friendship, and I’m so sorry I never said this earlier to you. Your my favourite person and I fucked everything over cause I was to scared of loving you.”
He breathes out.
We both just sit there in silence, I’m getting colder by the minute but I don’t move. The apology I waited 3 years for finally arrived but I don’t feel any better. I just wanted Vinnie to say something to make all the pain feel worth it and then everything to go back the way it was.
“It wasn’t entirely your fault for ruining the friendship.”
“You promise this won't ruin our friendship Vin.”
“I promise you, and you trust me so relax.”
His lips slot in between mine, he pulls me closer to him as my hands thread through his hair. 
It’s rough. I should have bought him new shampoo for his 18th.
“Your lips are so soft, I love them.” He whispers to me in between kisses as I lay my body over his and he guides my hips over his dick, rutting into him.
“You suck as dirty talk.” I giggle before going back to make out with him.
I let my lips trail down to his jawline leaving faint kisses there as he holds me close to him so I can feel the way his chest rises and falls. My hands drag down his torso and then up inside his shirt. My kisses falter as they reach his neck and I start sucking love bites into them and hear his hiss and whimper above me.
“Feels s’ good baby.” He breathes out, letting his hands rest at my waist as his thumb circles the area soothing the skins there.
When I’m done he flips the two of us over so now he’s above me with my hands pinned to my sides. 
He locks his lips into mine again, my whole body melts into the kiss, I lean into him, shutting my eyes, letting myself save the memory. I moan into his mouth as he pulls the kiss closer to him in a tantalizing fight for more dominance. 
As he pulls back, his eyes meet mine and I get lost in the honey brown, I study the features on his face at this moment, intent to not forget a thing. He looks back at me with a small smile.
His hands free mine and let me hook my hands around his neck. I pull him closer to my body as he kisses down my neck whilst his hands go under my shirt.
“Say you want this baby.” His gasps 
“Please, I need you so bad, I want you bad.” I beg
His hand undone my pants pulling them off leaving me in just my shirt and panties. 
Vinnie lifts himself up to take off his shirt, letting my hands graze through his body as he undoes his belt and pants and throws them on the floor, then taking his dick out of his boxer, pumping it up in his hand whilst reaching over into his dresser for a condom.
I lean my head back and stare into the ceiling waiting for him before he pulls my panties to the side and slowly lets his cock stretch me out as I arch into his touch.
His pace is relenting, I clutch his shoulder for stability and cry out into his neck, his thumb is circling my clit, his free hand holds us up and his eyebrows are knitted together in focus even though his lips keep kissing my body to make sure I’m okay.
“Feel good, you're not hurt angel?”
“No, fuck, god no, feels good Vin.” I say, barely able to make any full sentences.
It’s not long until I cum under him, I drag my nails across his back and scream into his neck to make sure I’m quiet enough and Vinnie rides me out through my high as a gasp and falls back into his bed. 
It’s not long after Vinnie comes and places a kiss on my forehead before getting us a towel and me some water to clean up. He gave me my favorite sweatshirt of his, a red Seattle shirt that I ended up cutting the collar off so it wouldn’t stay on my shoulder. 
“I love you.” He whispers before laying his face into my shoulder.
I end up falling asleep in his arms as he pulls me closer to him.
In the morning I’m alone in his bed and in his house and I end up going back to my own, lying saying I was with a friend.
It wasn’t until that night until I got a call from Reggie telling me that Vinnie had left for LA last night.
I ended up giving Vinnie’s sweater back to Reggie.
“It might not have been my entire fault but I still left in the middle of the night, in my bed, in my shirt, without telling you.” He reminds me, snapping me back from reality.
I lie back down into the sand taking a hit of the forgotten bong and then placing it on my side, Vinnie copies me.
It’s quiet, I like it. 
Back home me and Vinnie would always sit in the same room doing our own things, he would game whilst I’d play with Poncho or message my friends. Being in the same atmosphere was relaxing for each other.
Now it’s just tense.
“Vinnie,” I look at him, “Do you ever miss me?”
He laughs.
“Everyday, every time I go to the beach, every time my friends talk about love, every time I remember home you're always there. I don’t think I could ever not miss you.” He turns his head to look at me.
I really do miss him. I miss going to his house after a long day, I miss skipping classes together and smoking weed, I miss telling him everything. I miss him so much it hurts.
“Everything could have been so different.” I chuckle
“Yeah, we could have both still be in University together, we could have both still be in Seattle. Hell could have actually gotten together.” He laughs but I finally look back at him.
We fall back into our comfortable silence letting the ocean waves wash over us. It's dark out now and you can see the moons and the stars. It’s calming.
It’s a short lived calm however since his phone rings and he jerks up to pick it up.
I don’t listen until I hear him call the person on the line ‘baby’. It’s Allison… his girlfriend.
Our time ’s up, so I pick up my things which are just myself and a bong whilst Vinnie ends the call and we walk back to where everyone is in silence.
We get back and Allison runs into Vinnies arms placing kisses all over his face and tugs him down to sit at the bonfire. 
I lean my head on to Harveys shoulder as I zone as I eat the burger he made for me but as I look up I see Vinnie staring at me but as soon as he sees me looking back at him he looks down at his plate.
Before we realize it turns to 1 in the morning and I’m ready to go to sleep. Harvey is dropping me off and Chloe is coming with us. 
Vinnie is leaving with Allison as she drags him away but he stops as he sees me.
Before Vinnie leaves he gives me a bag with something inside and hugs me without saying a word. 
It’s a hoodie. The hoodie. A red Seattle crewneck with a cut collar. The hoodie he gave me the night he told me he loved and then left. And he left again. Leaving me with nothing but his stupid hoodie and all the things we never said.
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sunshinepanic · 9 days
Text
Unexpected 5
Pairing: Rafe Cameron X Reader
Summary: Things are going great with you and Rafe but when you finally get a chance to have your two worlds come together for a night everything comes to a head.
Chapter Warning: angst, fluff, protective Rafe, Protective John B, JJ is a douche, smut, violence
Not beta read we die like men
WC: 4,640
OBX Masterlist - Series Masterlist
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About two weeks after John B and Sarah accidentally found out about you and Rafe, you decided to bite the bullet and talk to Pope and Cleo. You had a few moments of panic while waiting for them to meet you at the chateau to talk, but it turns out telling Pope and Cleo wasn’t as bad as you thought it was going to be. Pope understandably freaked out, but after John B talked him down, he sat down and actually talked to you about what had happened and how you and Rafe came to be in a relationship. It took some convincing, but he eventually came around to the idea. You didn’t expect them to become friends in any capacity, but Pope agreed to be civil as long as you were happy. Cleo was by far the easiest to convince since she didn’t have an extensive past with Rafe like the rest of your friend group, but much like John B she was all for the idea of disposing of Rafe’s corpse if he hurt you. Everyone agreed to let you tell JJ and Kie in your own time, especially since everyone knew how telling the hot-headed blond was likely to go. You and JJ weren’t as close as you used to be, and it seemed like ever since him and Kie started dating, every time you were around each other, you would either avoid him all together or he would act hostile towards you. He would often scrutinize you, making comments about why you weren’t around as often or questioning why you were smiling at your phone; he even seemed to get annoyed about you showing affection to your other friends. So they really couldn’t fault you for wanting to put off telling JJ and Kie for as long as possible. In the meantime, you felt like you were doing a pretty damn good job of balancing your time between friends, Rafe, and work. Although you could admit to yourself that it would be a lot easier if Rafe could spend time with your friends too, but until you talked to JJ, that couldn’t happen.
 You were currently trying not to laugh as you held Rafe’s hands while he attempted to balance on your skateboard. You pulled him across the deserted skatepark in the middle of the night. “I’m going to let go now.” Rafe gripped your hands harder. “Don’t you dare! I swear to god, Y/N!” You cackled as you released your hands from his grip. He rolled away on the board, managing to keep his balance for a short distance before he started to wobble. You quickly chased after him, managing to reach him just as he toppled off your skateboard, sending it flying across the park. Rafe collapsed on top of you, knocking the wind out of both of you. “I am never doing that again.” His adamant refusal to get back on the board sent you into another fit of giggles. "Aw, Bambi, you didn’t do that badly. You just have to keep trying.” Rafe narrowed his eyes at the nickname you had given him as a crack at the fact that he couldn’t keep his balance on your skateboard. You tensed as you felt his finger start to dig into your sides. “Don’t you dare!” A smirk overtook Rafe’s face, and he started to tickle you, causing you to shriek and wiggle out from under him. You quickly got up and sprinted towards the safety of his truck. Trying to catch your breath, you turned as Rafe made his way towards you and tossed your board into the bed of the truck. He pinned you against the door and captured your lips in a searing kiss.
 Just like always, kissing Rafe felt like touching a live wire. Heat quickly spread throughout your body as you buried your hands in his hair in an attempt to pull him closer. Rafe broke the kiss to look down at your lust blown eyes. “Someone seems a little excited. You want me to fuck you, baby?” You bit your lip as you nodded. He chuckled, “I’m not sure you deserve it. You’ve been acting like a little brat.” You knew poking fun at Rafe was a great way to get him riled up, and if you played your cards right, it would end in a mind-blowing orgasm for you. You looked up at him from under your lashes and bit your lip. “I promise I’ll be a good girl.” Rafe’s hands groped your ass as he pulled your hips against his growing bulge. He nipped at your neck. “Are you going to let me fuck you right here? Fuck you in my truck, where anybody could walk by and see how needy you are for my cock.” You whimpered at his filthy words and quickly reached behind you to pull the back door of the truck open. Chuckling Rafe slapped your ass as you turned to crawl up into the backseat, with him following right behind you.
Rafe wasted no time pulling your shirt off of your body as soon as the door closed behind him. "God, I fucking love when you don’t wear a bra. I can see your perky little nipples through your shirt all day; it drives me fucking crazy.” Rafe sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, causing you to arch your back, pressing yourself closer to him. He alternated playing with your nipple rings with his tongue and nipping at the soft flesh of your tits. You worked one of your hands between your bodies and into Rafe's shorts, gripping his cock and slowly pumping it. “Please Rafe. I need more. I need you to fuck me.” Chuckling Rafe sat back and removed his shirt. He slapped your hip, signaling for you to flip onto your stomach. Rafe grabbed you by your hips, arching your ass into the air. His big palms ran across your ass before hooking his fingers into your cloth shorts and Lacey underwear, pulling them down until they were trapped around your knees. Rafe slapped a hand across your ass cheek, causing you to moan out, leaving a red handprint behind. He leaned forward, lapping at your core and moaning at your taste. He alternated between licking and sucking at your dripping core, and soon you felt two of his fingers push into your aching pussy causing you to moan out. “Fuck baby, please.” You could hear him using his other hand to undo his belt buckle and jeans while he fucked his thick fingers in and out of your needy hole. “You want my cock, baby? You need me to fuck this needy little pussy that bad?” You were thrusting back against Rafe’s fingers, but it wasn’t enough. You needed him to fill you up. “Yes! Please, baby, I need it. I want your cock in my needy little pussy.” Rafe pulled his fingers out, causing you to whimper, before you felt him line himself up with your entrance. “That’s my good girl. Ive got you, Sunshine.” He slowly started to push himself into your welcoming heat. The stretch felt so good that you moaned out as you pushed yourself back on his cock until he was fully seated inside you. He immediately started pumping into you hard and deep. "God, your tight little pussy feels so good, baby. It’s like you were fucking made for me.” One of your hands had a death grip on the backseat as the other pressed against the door to give yourself leverage to push back into his thrusts. Moans fell from your lips as the sound of Rafe fucking into you filled the heated space. “Don’t stop! I’m gonna cum! Please, please make me cum!” Rafe moved one of his hands forward and started rubbing tight circles on your swollen clit. “You gonna cum for me, baby? Come on, Sunshine, make a mess for me. I wanna feel your pretty little pussy cum on my cock.” The stimulation from his fingers and him pounding into your sensitive walls, paired with the delicious filth pouring from Rafe’s lips, sent you crashing over the edge. “Fuck yeah, baby girl, just like that. You gonna let me cum in this pretty little pussy?” You nodded your head, trying to continue pushing back into his thrusts. “Yes! Please cum in my tight little pussy. Fill me up, baby, please!” Your needy little whines and the feeling of your walls fluttering around his cock pushed Rafe over the edge. Hot ropes of cum painted your quivering walls as he twitched inside of you. Once you both caught your breath, Rafe slowly pulled out of your pliant body, causing you to hiss at the sudden loss. He collapsed back against the door as you slowly sat up. You pulled your shorts and underwear back into place and crawled into his lap, burying your face in his neck. You sat like that for a few minutes as he held you, and you both came down from your high.
 Eventually, Rafe nudged you. “Hey Sunshine. We should probably get going. It's more than likely that someone has probably noticed a fogged-up truck sitting here by now, and with all the noise you were making, they probably called the cops.” You immediately whacked him, causing him to chuckle as you crawled out of his lap. You both got redressed, and then you climbed over the center console and into the passenger seat while Rafe made his way around to the driver’s side. When Rafe pulled up down the road from the chateau to drop you off, you leaned over, pulling him into a deep kiss. “You better stop it unless you want me to fuck you right here in front of John B’s house.” Laughing, you pulled away. "Fine, I’ll stop. But speaking of John B, me and some of the guys are planning on having a bonfire on the beach tomorrow night, and I was wondering if you would come.” Rafe furrowed his eyebrows at you. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Last time I checked, JJ and Kie still don’t know about us, and I don’t exactly get along with any of your friends.” You sighed at him. “I know, but I already talked to the guys, and they are down to play nice if you are, and JJ and Kie have plans tomorrow night, so we don’t even have to worry about them.” Rafe sighed and was planning to say no, but when he looked at your face, you were giving him the most dramatic puppy dog eyes he had ever seen. Scoffing, he put his hand over your face and gently pushed your head away. “Fine! I’ll come tomorrow, but only if you promise not to do that face again.” Laughing, you leaned over and pulled him into another kiss before jumping out of the truck and making your way down the path to the chateau.
 When you entered the house, John B and JJ were sitting on the couch playing video games. You called out a quick hello and informed John B that you were going to hop in the shower and borrow some of his clothes for the night. He waved you off, concentrating on killing an opposing team in their game. You could feel JJ’s eyes burning a hole in your back as you made your way down the hall. When you got out of the shower, you slipped on a pair of John B’s sweatpants that you rolled at the waist and one of his old shirts that hung off one of your shoulders. You pulled your hair up as you made your way back out to the boys and sat down in front of John B laying your head on his leg, while you watched him and JJ continue playing. JJ’s character got blown up on the screen, and he tossed his controller down while John B tried to fight off the opposing team to be able to revive him. You could feel JJ’s eyes burning a hole in the side of your head. “What the fuck is that?” You froze for a moment, not sure what JJ was referring to. When you turned back to look up at him, he was staring at where your collar bone was exposed. You looked down and noticed a faint bruise had formed. Memories of Rafe sinking his teeth into you flashed through your mind. You rolled your eyes at JJ’s outburst. “It’s nothing; don’t worry about it.” JJ scoffed, catching John B’s attention. “It doesn’t look like nothing. It looks like you got mauled by some asshole.” You sigh, not wanting to deal with JJ’s attitude towards you tonight. Ignoring JJ, you looked at John B and told him you were going to head to bed. JJ piped up, informing you that you would have to wait until he and John B were done playing games so you could sleep on the couch because he had dibs on the extra room. Rolling your eyes, you went to sit back down, but John B stopped you. “It’s fine, Y/N/N you can go sleep in my bed. I’ll crash on the couch tonight.” Smiling gratefully at John B you headed off to his room and locked the door. You were over JJ and his shitty attitude towards you, and you just wanted to get some sleep and look forward to hanging out with your friends and your boyfriend tomorrow night.
 The next morning, you woke up and made your way outside, where you could hear John B and Sarah talking on the porch. You wrapped your arms around Sarah from behind, making eye contact with John B. “Thanks again for letting me crash in your room. I don’t know what JJ’s problem with me is.” John B shook his head. “Don’t mention it. Eventually he will get over himself, and hopefully we can go back to the way things were.” A sad smile spread across your face. You hoped that one day you and JJ could go back to how things were before he kissed you, but the longer this went on, and now with the fact that you were dating Rafe, you weren’t so sure that would ever actually happen. After having breakfast, you and Sarah headed out to pick up supplies for tonight before heading back to your house to get ready. You got dressed in a pair of cut-off denim shorts and a cropped Motley Crue T-shirt. After Sarah finished doing her makeup, the two of you headed to the chateau so you could all ride down to the beach together. You shot off a quick text to Rafe, sending him the location of your plans.
 You helped Pope and Cleo build the bonfire while John B and Sarah packed the cooler and snacks down from the Twinkie. You and the girls were laughing at the boys; John B and Pope were failing spectacularly at having a handstand contest. Just when you were starting to wonder where Rafe was, you felt strong arms wrap around your waist and a kiss press against your temple. “Hey baby.” He let you go as he set a case of beer down, and John B and Pope made their way back towards your group. Things definitely felt a little awkward at first, but as time went on, everyone seemed to relax a little bit. Conversation was flowing easily, and as the night went on and the sun started to set, the boys were comparing stories of the stupid shit they had gotten in trouble for growing up, while you and the girls watched in amazement that no one had tried to kill each other. Rafe caught your eye and made his way over to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and dropped a kiss on your lips. “You’re staring.” You scoffed at him. “Can you blame me? It’s like watching a lion befriend a herd of zebras.” Rafe chuckled at your dramatics. "Oh, you got jokes, huh?” He stepped back, pulling his tank top off, leaving him clad in nothing but a pair of board shorts. You arched an eyebrow at him in confusion. “What are you doing?” Everyone watched as Rafe quickly grabbed you, causing you to shriek out as he ran twenty yards down the beach and directly into the ocean while holding you. Your friends were all laughing at you as you swatted at your boyfriend. As you escaped his grasp and made your way out of the water, you tripped Rafe and shoved him backwards into the water again. You had just made it back to the warmth of the fire when you heard a voice that made you freeze.
 Your head snapped in the direction of the voice, and after a few moments, you watched as JJ and Kie made their way down the hill and directly towards you. Everyone immediately tensed as JJ and Kie walked up to your group. JJ looked around, noticing that everyone seemed to be acting weird. “What’s up, guys? We decided it would be more fun to hang out with you guys than sit through dinner with Kie’s parents, so we bailed on them.” When nobody answered, Kie piped up. “What’s wrong? Yall look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Just then, you watched JJ’s eyes snap in your direction and lock on Rafe, who was making his way out of the ocean. As Rafe made his way towards your group, a murderous look crossed JJ’s face. He jabbed a finger in Rafe’s direction. “What in the fuck is he doing here?” John B immediately tried to interject, telling JJ to calm down. Hearing JJ’s outburst, Rafe's head snapped up as he finally made it to your side, still shaking water out of his hair. Rafe raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Hey dude, I’m just here to hang out. I don’t want any problems.” JJ scoffed. “What the fuck do you mean you don’t want any problems? All you fucking do is cause problems everywhere you go! And since when do you hang out on this side of the island, let alone with us poor people? Why in the fuck are you here?” Just then, JJ’s eyes locked on Rafe’s hand as he linked it with yours in a comforting gesture. His eyes bounced between you and Rafe, taking in how close he was standing to you and the fact that he was touching you like it was normal. JJ turned his attention to you, disgust crossing his face. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me! Rafe! Of all fucking people, you’ve been whoring yourself out to this fucking prick!” You went to snap at him, but Rafe cut you off, taking a step in front of you and shoving JJ back. “Watch your fucking mouth!” Stumbling backwards, JJ laughed. "Oh, fuck off. Don’t pretend you actually give a shit about her. We all know this is just a sick game for you. Did you make a bet with your friends or something? See how long you have to slum it before she lets you get in her pants.” You could tell Rafe was getting more and more pissed with each word that fell from JJ’s lips. You could see his shoulders tensing, and his jaw was starting to tick. “Believe it or not, I actually give a shit about her, which is more than I can say for you after the shit you pulled.” That caught Kie’s attention, and JJ visibly tensed. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Rafe smirked at JJ’s visible discomfort. “Right. Tell me, does Kie know what happened just a few days before you started dating?” Before anyone could react, JJ lunged at Rafe, tackling him to the sand. Punches were thrown by both boys, but you and the rest of your friends were able to quickly pull them apart.
You cupped Rafe’s face, checking to see how bad the damage was as he spit blood on the ground from his busted lip. You turned on JJ, ignoring the split in his eyebrow, which was bleeding profusely. You shoved at his chest as hard as you could, causing him to stumble back into John B. “Fuck you, JJ! How dare you! You were supposed to be my best friend, and you have done nothing but treat me like shit for weeks!” JJ’s eyes widened at the fact that you had put your hands on him. He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off. “No! You kissed me! You knew how I felt about you; you knew that I had been in love with you for years, and you fucking kissed me, and then you immediately rejected me, only for me to find out a few days later that you started dating Kie. Do you know how that made me feel? And then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, you quit being my friend and started treating me like shit! Every time I see you, you have something shitty to say to me, and I’m fucking tired of it! I love you and I love Kie, and I want you to be happy, but you’re acting like a jealous fucking boyfriend when you have no right!” The silence that followed was deafening. You waited for him to respond, but he refused to make eye contact with you. Scoffing, you shook your head. “I’m sorry, guys. I can’t do this.” You took off in the direction of the twinkie, ignoring the sounds of your friends arguing amongst each other as Rafe followed behind you.
Rafe drove you back to his house, where you showered together, and he let you fuss over his busted lip. “It doesn’t hurt. I promise it looks worse than it is.” Sighing, you finish cleaning up. “You got hurt because of me. Everything is fucked up, and it’s all my fault.” Rafe grabbed you, forcing you to look at him. “Nothing about this is your fault. JJ is an ass, and he needs to get over himself. The only thing you’ve done is move on with your life.” You relented, letting Rafe pull you into bed. As you lay cuddled up in his bed, you couldn’t help but let your mind run over the events of the night. You couldn’t believe how everything went down. One minute you were laughing, and the next it was World War III. Despite Rafe reassuring you that none of what happened was your fault, you couldn’t help but think that maybe if you had done something different, then maybe none of this would have happened and Rafe wouldn’t have gotten hurt. As you listened to Rafe’s breathing even out, you heard your phone go off with a text notification. You swiped open your phone, seeing a text from JJ. “You’re right. I’ve been a fucking asshole, and I’m sorry.” You read over the message a few times before shutting your phone off.
Not being able to sleep, you made your way downstairs to find something to drink when you heard a knock on the front door. You didn’t know anyone that would be showing up to Rafe's house, especially at 3 a.m., so you slowly made your way to the front door, peeking out of the window to see who it was. The last person you expected to see standing outside Rafe’s front door was JJ. Steeling yourself, you quietly opened the door and stepped outside to see what he wanted. You stood in silence for a few minutes before you rolled your eyes and made to go back inside. JJ’s hand shot out to stop you. “Wait! Please, just give me a minute.” Sighing, you turned around, waiting for him to start talking. Biting his lip, he finally made eye contact with you. “You don’t deserve the way I’ve been treating you, and you didn’t deserve for me to hurt you the way I did. You have been my best friend forever, and honestly, I miss you. I know I don’t deserve it, but I hope you can forgive me.” You didn’t respond for a few minutes, taking time to process everything. “Why in the hell did you even do it?” At the confused look on JJ’s face, you rolled your eyes, trying to contain your annoyance. “Don’t play stupid, JJ. Everything was fine until you kissed me, and now you’re running around like a jealous boyfriend after you rejected me.” JJ sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “I knew how you felt about me, and I have feelings for you too, but I know how I am, and I couldn’t risk fucking it up and losing you forever. You are my oldest friend besides John B and I couldn’t imagine losing you because we didn’t work out.” Shaking your head, you glare at him. “So instead, you decided to hurt me anyway, start dating one of our other friends, and then treat me like shit and attack my boyfriend. Make it make sense, JJ.” A look of shame crossed his face. “I kissed you because I wanted to, but then I realized what I was risking, and I panicked. I figured rejecting you would hurt less than if we dated, and I inevitably screwed up. I figured our friendship could survive if I stopped it before it started, but I knew it wouldn’t survive a breakup. As for dating Kie, I wasn’t planning on dating her, but things happened, and I do like her. I never meant for everything to happen the way it did.” You shook your head in confusion. “So you were worried about our friendship but not about your friendship with Kie? You were so sure you would hurt me, but what about her? You aren't worried about hurting her?” JJ nervously chewed on his lip. “If something happened and me and Kie broke up and she never wanted to see me again, yeah, it would suck, but I would live with it and eventually I would move on. If me and you got together and I fucked it up and I lost you from my life completely, I know I wouldn’t be able to live with myself after that.” Shaking your head, you sighed. “I just want our friendship to go back to how we used to be before that kiss, but after everything, I’m not sure how to get back there. I appreciate you coming here and apologizing, but I’m going to need some time.” Nodding his head, JJ smiled. “I get it. Take all the time you need. Just know that I’m willing to do whatever it takes for us to be okay. I can’t promise to get along with Rafe, but I can promise not to kill him unless he hurts you.” Rolling your eyes, you say goodnight to JJ as you shake your head and open the door to go back inside. “You wouldn’t be able to kill him, and we both know it.” You made your way back up to Rafe’s bedroom and gently crawled back into bed. You knew it was going to take some time for you to forgive JJ, but you hoped one day you guys might be able to get back to the friendship you used to have. As you closed your eyes to sleep, Rafe pulled you against his body and sleepily asked if you were okay. Kissing him, you reassured him that everything was fine and to go back to sleep. With Rafe’s heartbeat in your ear, you fell asleep knowing you were exactly where you wanted to be, and there was a little bit of hope that maybe everything would be okay.
END
Tags: @starkeys-world @nnarellia @iluvanakinskywalker @maybankslover @hazzarules @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @fishingirl12 @redhead1180 @esquivelbianca @theoraekenslover @the-sylver-dragon @rubixgsworld @ijustwanttoreadlols @lyannesworld @chiaraanatra
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jaeyunverse · 2 years
Text
skater boy
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pairing: sim jake x fem!reader
genres: fluff, angst, crack, strangers to lovers, high school au
warnings: profanity, mentions of injuries, trauma and death, heavy angst towards the end, all my knowledge about skateboarding has come from google so this is not going to be very accurate LOL lmk if you think i missed anything!
wc: 9372
summary: jake hadn’t expected to see anyone at the skatepark in the middle of the night. he sure as hell hadn’t expected to fall in love the moment your gazes met either.
playlist: click here!
note: omg i wrote this on such a whim LMAOO i hope y’all enjoy it though!! i had a lot of fun w this fic and i’d love to hear your thoughts :”)
masterlist
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Save for himself, Jake Sim was not used to seeing anyone use the skatepark at four in the morning. 
It was like an unspoken rule: early evenings were reserved for kids and middle-schoolers, late evenings for teenagers, nights for smokers and stoners, and the time right before the crack of dawn for him. 
Jake didn’t like skating in front of people. He liked it when he had the entire place to himself. He liked it when amateurs didn’t ask to be taught by him. He liked it when he wasn’t requested to perform stunts on his skateboard. 
He liked it when he was left alone. 
Which was why the sight of you trying to balance yourself on your board in his safe space ticked him off.
Jake knew he wasn’t being fair. The skatepark was public property, and anyone who wanted to use it could do so without being answerable to him. He couldn’t just tell you to leave. It wasn’t your problem he wanted to skate in solitude. 
Jake contemplated skipping for one night and going back home. Surely, you wouldn’t be here tomorrow as well. Based on how you handled yourself, it looked like you had never skated before. 
Heck, you couldn’t even get on without having to clutch on to the safety railings. This was probably just a one-time thing, and Jake hoped you’d realise skating was not for you, give up and never return again. At least not when he came to the park. 
Right as he was about to leave, your gaze met his and you lost control of the skateboard. It slipped from under your feet, and you landed on your backside with a sharp hiss. 
Excruciating pain shot up your ankle as you tried to pull yourself up again, tears springing from the corners of your eyes. 
Jake watched you struggle warily. A voice at the back of his mind urged him to help you out, but he silenced it. He wasn’t an asshole on a regular basis, but he was still pissed you were occupying the skate park. 
“Fuck,” you breathed, biting down on your lip to stop a whimper from escaping. You limped to where your skateboard had rolled and picked it up. Approaching Jake, you said to him with your gaze trained on the ground, “You can skate if you want. I was going to leave anyway.” 
He raised an eyebrow, not having expected you to leave immediately. Maybe his expression had been colder than he had thought it was. Or maybe you were just unwilling to skate while he was present—you did embarrass yourself in front of him after all. 
You made to move past Jake when he caught sight of your scratched arms. His eyes moved to your ankle immediately, assessing it. 
“Hey,” he called, causing you to stop in your tracks. “How are you going home?” 
You hesitated. Gulped. Looked around. Then answered, “My brother’s going to pick me up.” 
Jake didn’t need to be a genius to know you had lied. But he understood. It was the dead of the night, and no one was around except a strange boy who was asking you weird questions. Obviously, you were on your guard. 
“Your ankle’s sprained. I can tell from the way you’re limping.” He had no idea why he was still speaking to you instead of just saying okay and moving on. Maybe it was the guilt blossoming in him for being the reason behind your pain that made him offer, “There’s a 24/7 open supermarket around the corner. You should ice the injury before it swells. I can help if you want.” 
“Oh.” 
A beat of silence passed. Then two. Jake opened his mouth. “Or not,” he said and chuckled awkwardly. This was exactly why he never bothered to engage with people. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable—”
“I think I’d appreciate your assistance,” you interrupted and gave him a tight-lipped yet grateful smile. 
Jake blinked. He hadn’t expected you to take him up on his offer. 
“Sure,” he said. “My car’s parked right here. We can walk too, if you’d prefer that,” he added upon watching your expression turn cautious. 
“I’d rather walk,” you admitted. “It doesn’t hurt a lot and the distance is not much so I think I can manage.” 
“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Jake agreed without missing a beat. “Yeah. I’ll just—just hold on to your skateboard for you.”
God, this was so awkward. Jake was starting to regret ever offering to help you out. You clearly didn’t trust him, and he didn’t know how to convince you he had no ill intentions. 
“I’m Jake, by the way,” he said in an attempt to make conversation. “Are you from around here?”
You nodded, hissing a little as you walked beside him. “Yeah. I’m Y/N. I go to Grapevine High.”
“Grapevine?” Jake laughed, fisting his free hand at his side to keep it from snaking around your waist for support. He didn’t want to touch you without your consent—even though it was just to help. “That’s crazy. I go to Blue Valley High.” 
You gasped. “No way! You guys are such cheaters! The Championship Cup is rightfully ours.” 
“Sore losers call winners cheaters,” he teased. 
“You should be lucky I have a sprained ankle, or you’d be eating the ground right now.”
“You should be lucky Choi Yeonjun is graduating, or your school would be making a complete fool out of itself next year too.” 
You snorted. “Everyone knows your team paid the—Fuck!” 
Jake grabbed your arm the moment you lost your balance and pulled you towards him. You clutched his hoodie for support, involuntarily tugging him towards you as well. Jake almost tripped over his feet too but held his ground. 
“Do you need my help walking the rest of the way?” he asked, concern evident in his tone. 
Biting your lip in contemplation, you tried putting weight on your sprained ankle. You could feel the pain in your bones, so you glanced at Jake, your faces but a few inches away, and mumbled, “I’m sorry for being a bother.” 
Jake shook his head and wrapped an arm around your waist so he could assist you better. “Don’t apologise. I wouldn’t have offered to help if I thought of you as a bother.” 
The smile you gave him was a mixture of both grateful and relieved, and Jake couldn’t help the slight increase in the pace of his heart. Answering your unspoken gratitude with a reassuring upward curl of his lips, he waited for you to move your arm and sling it around his neck. 
“Do you always come to skate at the park?” Jake asked as the two of you slowly continued to the supermarket. “I’ve never seen you before.” 
You shook your head. “No. It’s a new hobby I’m trying to pick up.” 
“I can teach you if you want.” The words were out of Jake’s mouth before he could think of a reply. He paused for a second, waiting for the regret to settle in. Surprisingly, it didn’t, so he continued, “I’ve been skating since I was five.” 
You raised your eyebrows. “Really? That’s so cool! You must be really good.” 
“I guess.” Jake laughed sheepishly and ducked his head, trying to hide the blush that was creeping on his cheeks. God, what was wrong with him? Not only had he offered to teach you how to skate (something he would have never done if it were someone else) but was also feeling shy at the hint of awe in your tone. 
“I—I don’t know,” you answered hesitantly. “I don’t want to inconvenience you.” 
“You won’t.” 
“Are you sure? You looked pretty annoyed when you saw me at the skatepark.”
Jake’s eyes widened. “No! I wasn’t annoyed,” he lied. “I was just surprised.”
You stared at him for a moment before smiling knowingly. “Whatever you say, skater boy.”  
He opened his mouth to reply, but you beat him to it. “Oh, thank God, we’re here.” 
Indeed, when Jake averted his gaze from you, he saw the supermarket in all its glory. It looked empty, save for the half-asleep cashier slumped in his seat at the billing counter.
You let go of Jake and limped on one leg through the automatic doors. Slamming your hand on the counter, you yelled, “Get up and do your fucking job, Sunoo!” 
Jake watched in slight confusion and shock as the cashier jumped in his seat, almost falling off. “What the hell, Y/N?! Do you want to give me a heart attack?” he demanded in a shrill voice, his hand on his chest. 
“Oh, shut up, I did you a favour. You know there are cameras in here, right?” you pointed out. 
“You know the owner is an old lady who doesn’t even know the T of technology, right?” Sunoo replied snarkily, and then asked as realization dawned on him, “Why the fuck are you out so late?”
Jake saw you tense. “I wanted to go for a walk.” 
Sunoo frowned. “Alone? Does your mom know?” 
“I’m not alone. I’m with my new friend.” 
Sunoo followed your gaze and finally noticed Jake awkwardly standing at the door. Scoffing, he asked, “Sim Jake’s your new friend?” 
You narrowed your eyes and scrutinised both boys. “You two know each other?” 
“I don’t know him,” Jake replied, looking just as lost as you were. “Do you know me?”
“I know of you,” Sunoo corrected. “You’re pretty popular. Y/N, on the other hand, is not. Hence my disbelief.”
“Hey, asshole!” you exclaimed and glared at Sunoo. “I just don’t talk to a lot of people!” 
“Neither does Jake,” Sunoo pointed out. “But he’s known as the hot, mysterious skateboarder who keeps to himself while you’re known as the friendless girl. Or not known as,” he amended. “Because you’re not, you know, popular.” 
“You half-witted son of a cunt—” 
Jake stepped between the two of you before things could escalate. “Okay, let’s all calm down.” 
“Tell him to shut the fuck up first!” you whined. “He’s being such a jerk to me!” 
The corners of Jake’s lips quirked at the sight of your bottom lip sticking out in a pout. He promptly ignored the way his heart rate picked up. 
“What’s your problem, Sunoo?” he demanded from the cashier. 
“My problem is that Y/N woke me up!” Sunoo burst out. “I was having an amazing dream and now I can’t remember any of it!” 
“Deserved,” you commented under your breath before saying out loud, “Whatever. Sleep during your shift or don’t; I don’t care.” 
“Good!” Sunoo snapped. 
Sticking your tongue out at him, you grabbed Jake’s arm and tugged him deeper into the store. “Let’s go.” 
Snaking his arm around your waist again, he let you direct him towards the refrigerators at the rear end of the supermarket. “Who is he?” 
“My neighbour.” You rolled your eyes. “We’ve known each other since we were toddlers and he’s been a huge pain in my ass the entire time. I want to punch him every time he opens his fucking mouth.” 
Jake raised an eyebrow. “Hatred isn’t a very sexy look on you, Y/N.” 
“As long as it’s a little sexy.” You wiggled your eyebrows. “I trashed his car because he spread rumours about me at school. He’s working night shifts to pay for the repairs but all I had to do was throw the best rager of the year to nullify what he had done.”
“Wow.” Jake laughed. “I would not want to get on your bad side.” 
You grinned cheekily. “I don’t think you can.” 
Once the two of you had reached the refrigerators, Jake helped you sit down on the floor and fetched an ice pack. 
You carefully removed your sneakers and socks and rolled your ripped baggy jeans up a few times. There was some swelling on the outer side of your ankle, but the injury thankfully didn’t seem to be severe. 
“Oh, good, there’s no bruising,” Jake also noticed. Sitting cross-legged in front of you, he gently stretched your leg and placed it on his lap. “You’ll heal in no time.” 
“Do you hurt yourself a lot while skating?” you asked as he pressed the ice pack to your wound. You had a low pain tolerance and distracting yourself by talking always proved effective. 
Jake shrugged. “Kind of. This month I tried to skate down the railing that divides the staircase in the children’s park and fell off. Fucked up my entire body and couldn’t move for a few days.”
Mentally cringing at the image forming in your mind, you questioned, “Why do you perform risky stunts if they’re so dangerous?” 
“It’s fun,” he answered and moved your ankle in all directions slowly. “Skating makes me feel alive. It’s something I’ve been doing since I was a kid, and I can’t imagine quitting just because of a few injuries here and there.” 
“Don’t people break bones and tear ligaments because of failed skateboarding stunts?”
Jake grinned. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I don’t fail a lot. Besides, I usually wear full-sleeved clothes to avoid scraping myself. There’s a physical risk factor no matter what sport you pursue.”
You pondered over his words for a moment. “What made you start skateboarding?”
“This is starting to feel a lot like an interrogation.” He raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on his face. Your face heated in embarrassment, and you were about to apologise for asking so many questions when he continued, “I used to always see the skatepark while coming home from day care. My parents must have noticed me pressing my face against the car window each time we drove past because I was given a board on my fifth birthday. I’ve been skating ever since.”
“Woah. Isn’t that almost twelve years?” 
“A little over, actually. I turn eighteen this year.” 
Your lips parted in wonder. You’d met very few people who talked about skateboarding the way Jake did. His eyes were shining with barely contained excitement and his lips adorned a wide smile that sent your heart fluttering. 
You’d been uncertain before, but now you knew for sure you wanted to get to know this boy who had such love and passion for skating. 
“Does your offer to teach me how to skateboard still stand?” 
Jake beamed. “Always.” 
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Jake hadn’t seen you for two weeks. While it hadn’t been that long, he strangely found himself missing you. 
It was as if something had clicked between the two of you when you’d been sitting on the supermarket floor. No one had ever bothered to ask Jake how he started skating, and he’d never seen anyone be genuinely so interested in his hobby. 
Jake never initiated conversations or even made a conscious effort to keep them going. Yet, the two of you had talked till the sun came up and only left when Sunoo kicked you out. 
He’d driven you home after and you’d exchanged phone numbers. He even made you promise him to see a doctor as he helped you up the porch stairs.
“I’ll message you when my ankle heals,” you had told him. “We can decide when to meet up then.” 
Jake had agreed, but as the days passed, he found himself itching to send you a check-up text. He’d never been one to overthink, so a few days later, you saw your phone screen lighting up with his name. 
For the next few weeks, the two of you texted constantly. From discussing which pasta sauce was superior to what your dreams were—you never seemed to run out of things to talk about. Jake couldn’t stop sparks of hope from igniting in him whenever he received a notification alert. 
He’d never felt this way for anyone. While it was scary for him to realise you were starting to become the reason he smiled so often now, he embraced the wave of affection that washed over him each time he thought of you. 
Texting every day turned to calling every day and calling every day turned to FaceTiming every day. Jake had become so comfortable around you that he wasn’t shy anymore to answer your video calls even though he was half-asleep and still in bed.
Unfortunately, the two of you weren’t able to meet again because of your heavy schedules. You were in a bunch of extracurriculars, and Jake had basketball practice after school. He missed you more than he would have liked to admit. 
AirPods in both ears, he was casually skating to the skatepark at 4 in the morning like usual when he caught sight of a figure leaning on the support railings. 
“No way,” Jake mumbled to himself and plucked his AirPods out of his ears. Getting off his skateboard, he hit its tail and began sprinting. 
The thud of his footsteps alerted you and you pocketed your phone. Pushing yourself off the railing, you turned around to greet him. 
Only to be thrown off your balance as he collided with you and engulfed you in a warm embrace. It took you a moment to react, but you laughed softly and wrapped your arms around him too. 
“Miss me so much, skater boy?” 
Jake pulled back and smirked at you. “Do you always call me skater boy because you don’t know my name?”
“Of course not!” You grinned. “You’re just so memorable, Jack. I couldn’t forget about you if I wanted to.” 
Amused, Jake raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re just going to go ahead and call me the whitest name to ever exist?” 
“Jack’s not too far from Jake,” you pointed out. “And you do have an accent.” 
“It’s Australian!” 
“Mhm.” 
Rolling his eyes playfully, he glanced at your leg. “How’s your ankle holding up?” 
“Completely healed,” you chirped and moved it in all directions, going as far as jumping in place to prove yourself. Jake fondly smiled at your actions, his eyes turning into smile crescent moons. “Don’t you think you should have asked me this question before you crashed into me with the force of a truck?” 
Laughing sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, sorry. I just got excited.” 
“Nah, I missed you too.” You gave his shoulder a light-hearted punch. At your words, a seed of happiness sprouted in Jake’s chest. “Do you still want to teach me how to skate?” 
He grinned and set his board on the ground. “Get on. Without support.” 
“Wait, what?” you asked and glanced at the piece of wood nervously. “Just like that?” 
“You’re wearing the right kind of shoes so you’re already halfway there. Besides, it’s not that hard.” 
You shot him a dirty look. “Easy for you to say. I have zero balance, and this isn’t even a longboard.” 
“I’m surprised you know the terminology,” Jake commented. 
You looked a little taken aback for a moment, but you caught your bearings so fast he thought he’d imagined your expression. “I read up a little before coming.” 
“Oh.” Jake wasn’t completely satisfied with your answer, however, he let it slide without any further poking. “Well, you’re right; this isn’t a longboard. You have me to catch you if you fall off, though.” 
You stared at him for a moment. And then, “My ankle better not get fucked up again, skater boy.” 
“No promises.” 
Glaring at him playfully, you kept a foot on the skateboard tentatively. Your hand instinctively reached out to grab Jake’s sleeve, but you fisted it and forced it back to your side. 
This was turning out to be even harder than you’d expected. You were scared to put your other foot on the board in fear of it slipping under you like last time. 
However, your unwillingness to appear as a coward to Jake overpowered your anxiety. You were about to bite the bullet and just step on the board when Jake said, 
“Angle your feet sideways. Place your right foot in front of the left one.” 
Nodding without looking at him, you did as you were told. 
The skateboard moved a little as you stepped on it, a yelp leaving your mouth. Jake’s arms caged your figure from a distance, and you grabbed them immediately to stabilise yourself.
“Not that hard, was it?” 
You breathed a laugh and tried shifting the board a little from side to side using Jake’s support. “Apparently not.”  
He let go of your elbows as you got off the piece of wood. “You’re doing better than my first time on the skateboard already.” 
“Weren’t you, like, five?” 
“I’m really trying to be supportive here.” 
You snorted. “Why, thank you.” 
“My pleasure,” Jake popped and bowed dramatically. “You wanna go again?” 
The two of you must have practised and goofed around in the skatepark for hours—you could tell because of the sun rays that had begun to peek over the horizon. It didn’t feel that way at all, though. 
The concept of time never seemed to exist whenever you were with Jake both physically and virtually. No matter how long you spent with him, it never felt enough. 
Skating was a sort of therapy for Jake. He couldn’t go a day without cruising on the streets or performing stunts in the park when there was no one to watch. For you, though, he was ready to give it up. 
Being one of the reasons you smiled was of much more value to him. He loved the way your eyes sparkled as if they held the entire galaxy in them. He loved hearing you ramble about the most random things ever. He loved having someone he could be completely honest to.
Jake hated being cheesy, but he had to admit that his black-and-white life had suddenly turned vibrant and colourful when you entered it. 
He knew what this feeling was. Watching you confidently ride the skateboard with a huge smile on your face got rid of any fear he had. 
He wasn’t afraid to acknowledge his heart anymore. 
He was in love with you. 
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Never had you imagined someone you’d only met a month ago would become so important to you.
Jake had come into your life when you needed him the most. Even though you couldn’t bring yourself to completely open up to him, his presence was enough. He made things easier for you. With him by your side, nothing felt impossible. 
But the weight of your guilt became a little too heavy to bear sometimes. So much so that you couldn’t help but think you didn’t deserve him. That you were moving on faster than people in mourning should. 
Were you even in mourning anymore? 
Your dead brother would have wanted you to escape the past and live your life. He would have wanted you to stop blaming yourself. He would have wanted you to find your safe space and heal. 
You were tired of the sympathy. You were tired of the it wasn’t your fault and there was no way you could have known. You were done with people telling you to stop torturing yourself. 
You deserved the emotional turmoil you experienced every single day. You didn’t deserve to get your pain taken away by Jake. 
It wasn’t hard to pretend in front of him. He wasn’t in your school and didn’t stay in your neighbourhood. The two of you had no mutual friends. He didn’t know you when you went through the biggest loss of your life. 
You felt guilty for putting up a happy facade and hiding the darkness in you when he was nothing but honest with you. Part of you wanted to tell him about your brother’s death, but underlying that urge was the fear of being thought of as someone who needed to be fixed. 
You didn’t know if you could survive another don’t blame yourself.
Jake was your escape from reality. When you were together, it was just you, him, and your skateboards. Being with him gave you a sense of normalcy. As much as you wanted to lay yourself bare in front of him, you didn’t want him to walk on eggshells around you. 
“What are you thinking about?” you heard him ask. 
Averting your gaze from the car window, you glanced at him and shook your head with a smile on your face. “Nothing.” 
“I can tell when you’re lying.” 
“I swear it’s nothing,” you promised, your heart constricting as the lie effortlessly left your mouth. “I’m just stressed about school. I have a lot of stuff due this week and a debate tomorrow. I’ve never been good with deadlines so I can’t help but be anxious.” 
He studied you for a moment, as if mulling over your words. You could tell he wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t push you further. Maybe that was why you were so comfortable around him. He never forced you to talk about something and always let you open up at your own pace. 
All he did was offer comfort and let you know he would be there for you no matter what. It was more than you could have ever asked for. 
“Do you want me to drop you back home?” he suggested, concern evident in his tone. “We can hang out once you’re done with your submissions and have a lesser workload.” 
You shook your head. “No, it’s fine. I’ll just lie in bed and think about all the things I haven’t done yet. I’d rather not be alone with my thoughts.” 
“Fair enough,” Jake said and turned his attention to the road again. 
There was silence for the next few minutes. You turned in your seat and reached for the back of the car to fetch your skateboards when Jake turned the corner of the park. 
“Don’t,” he said, making you pause. “We’re not going to skate today.” 
You blinked. “What?” 
“I have something else in mind.” Jake glanced at you out of the corner of his eye and gave you an excited grin. “I think you’ll love it.” 
“Really?” you asked, chuckling a little. “Where are we going?”
“Surprise” was all he said. 
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Jake’s ‘surprise’ would have been pretty good if you hadn’t identified where you were headed the minute he took the turn that led you out of the town and towards the beach. 
For his sake, you pretended to be oblivious to your surroundings. He was right about the other thing, though. You were loving the direction this night had taken.
Besides, now that you thought about it again, it technically was a surprise to you that Jake remembered the one time you’d mentioned your liking for late-night walks on sandy shores. 
“No way.” You feigned a gasp and looked at him. “The beach!”
He gave you a pointed stare. “Shut up. I know you knew we were coming here.” 
“Yeah, okay,” you said and shrunk in your seat. He laughed softly. “But I really do appreciate you bringing me here.” 
Putting his arm on the headrest behind you, Jake put his car in reverse so he could park it. “And I appreciate you not bursting my bubble and embarrassing me. At least until I deduced how dumb I was to not expect you to know we were going to the biggest attraction of our town.” 
You grinned. “Ten out of ten for effort.” 
Looking at you, Jake rolled his eyes, and that was when you noticed your proximity. Your faces were so close you could count his eyelashes and see the brown flecks in his irises. 
The smile on your face dropped and your gaze flitted to his lips for half a second. Then went back up to find that his eyes were on your lips now. 
Your gazes met before you could look away and pretend whatever sparks you’d just felt had been nothing but a result of your wild imagination. 
He sucked in a breath. You braced yourself, your heart beating so fast you were sure it was going to leap out of your chest. 
Anticipation paralysing you in place, you could only watch Jake as he leaned in for a kiss. However, the seatbelt prevented him from closing the distance between your lips and a string of curses left his mouth instead. 
“Motherfucker,” he mumbled under his breath and fumbled with the buckle. You snapped out of your reverie and ducked your head, letting your hair fall over your face to hide your fluster. 
Jake struggled with the buckle, his hands shaking due to his embarrassment at not having thought things through and frustration at being cockblocked by a fucking strap around his torso.
You bit down on your lip to keep yourself from smiling. Deciding to take a leap of courage, you cupped his face in both hands, causing him to stop his actions and look at you.
You glanced at his mouth again and closed your eyes, finally placing your lips on top of his. 
At that exact moment, Jake’s belt buckle snapped open. Grabbing the back of your neck with a hand, he pulled you closer and kissed you harder. His other hand went to your buckle, unfastening it with the kind of expertise he hadn’t been able to showcase while he was undoing his own. 
You let your arm travel to his shoulder for support. Pushing yourself up, you climbed on him and straddled his lap. 
Jake’s seat jerked back as he adjusted it to accommodate you comfortably. His hand rested on your waist, the other one still wrapped around your nape. His thumb caressed your cheekbone gently—a total contrast to the passion with which he was kissing you. 
Running your tongue over his lip, you wove your fingers through his silky strands and tugged at them. He opened his mouth in response to your glaringly obvious request and tilted his head to the side, allowing you to deepen the kiss further. 
Jake knew he’d wanted this for a while now, he just hadn’t realised how much he’d wanted it. Pure, undiluted euphoria was coursing through his veins.
Part of him wanted to pinch himself to confirm that no, this wasn’t a dream, but he reckoned that wasn’t sexy and would ruin the mood. 
Out of breath, you detached your mouth from his. Jake’s lips chased after yours, unwilling to be separated from them just yet. He kissed you a few last times before burying his face in the crook of your neck. 
You rested your forehead on his shoulder, idly scratching the hair at his nape as you tried coming down from the high of the kiss. 
The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for the next few minutes. Jake rubbed soothing circles on the curve of your waist with his thumb, puckering his lips to leave a trail of butterfly kisses on your neck that caused goosebumps to erupt across your skin. 
You wanted him to say something—anything. What were the two of you now? This wasn’t a situation that was caused because you went with the flow and got a little too lost in the moment. The moment was over, and you were still nestled in his lap. His arms were still around you and holding you close, as if he never wanted to let you go. 
This wasn’t a mistake. This clearly meant something to him. 
Whatever this was, it was real. Real and genuine and infinite—
“I love you,” Jake mumbled against your neck. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you froze for a moment. This was the last thing you’d expected to hear.
He shifted so that the two of you were facing each other and gazed at you with wide, vulnerable, honest eyes. “I love you, Y/N,” he repeated. “More than I’ve ever loved anyone.” 
You were at a loss for words. “Jake…” 
“I know it was selfish of me to drop something so heavy on you without a warning, but I had to get it out,” he continued, a tremble evident in his voice. “I just wanted you to know what I felt for you. I couldn’t pretend any longer—” 
“Jake,” you stopped him before he could go on, tears pooling in your eyes. “Don’t. Please.” The expression on his face tore your heart to shreds. “I’m sorry.” 
He remained frozen for a moment, as if waiting for you to take your words back. But you didn’t. You didn’t and Jake thought he was dying and his soul was being ripped apart. 
He had thought he would be able to handle your rejection, but then you had kissed him as if your life depended on it and his hopes had skyrocketed. Now, his heart was shattered, and he didn’t think he’d ever be able to pick up the pieces.
The wound you’d inflicted on Jake was one that would never stop bleeding. 
Tears escaped your eyes as you opened the door of his car and climbed off him. Jake vacantly kept staring at where you’d been sitting in his lap, and you were about to shut the door when he said, “Wait.” 
He turned to look at you, pain and heartbreak colouring the whites of his eyes red. The sight only made your anguish increase tenfold.
“I’ll drop you back home,” he said. 
You opened your mouth and closed it again, unable to form a reply. Jake noticed your hesitation and clarified, “It’s not safe for you to go back alone. Please, let me drive you home. I promise this won’t mean anything.” 
You never thought you’d hated yourself so much. You’d stomped on his heart and here he was, begging you to let him do something nice for you.
Gulping, you nodded once and walked to the passenger’s seat on the other side. Jake had closed his door and strapped his seatbelt again by the time you opened the door of your seat. 
Wordlessly, he started the car and began driving. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his knuckles turn white with how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. You swallowed the urge to apologise again and fisted your hands in your lap, averting your gaze to the window instead. 
The next thirty minutes were absolutely torturous. The air was thick with tension, and you didn’t know how to approach Jake. You didn’t think he even wanted to be approached by you. 
Hell, he probably never wanted to see you again. You were a complete monster for being so cruel to him right after you kissed him and gave him hope. There had been better ways to deal with the situation. 
The car came to a stop in front of your house. You glanced at him, but Jake was staring at the road silently, his grip on the wheel not having loosened even a bit. 
Your heart sank. Biting down on your lower lip, you tried keeping your whimper inside. Wordlessly, you unfastened your seatbelt and threw the door open. 
It was an effort to not glance back at Jake as you walked to the porch of your house. The moment you were inside, you heard him rev his car and drive away. 
Forever. 
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Jake was a mess. 
He had been cooped up in his room and wallowing in self-pity the entire week. Technically he did leave for school because his parents kicked him out and he did attend basketball practice because his coach was on his ass. 
But other than that, he was at home, not even sneaking out to skate. He couldn’t be bothered to play the sport anymore.  
It was crazy how you had essentially ruined the only thing he was passionate about. Every time he looked at his skateboard, he was reminded of the times you had shared and the memories you had made. 
He was reminded of how you’d made him fall in love with you. 
You had forgotten your board in his car the night everything went to hell. Jake had brought it up to his room and propped it right next to his, noticing that the two pieces of wood looked really good next to each other. 
He had slapped himself hard when he came back to his senses. He was being so pathetic.
However, he reckoned he did have a good reason to brood and play Valorant, cussing out his teammates for faults that were clearly his. 
You had kissed him and then rejected him in the worst way possible. Begging him to stop pouring his heart to you? That hurt. 
And Jake was going to make it the problem of four people he had never met before. 
“I will boil your fucking balls if you die again, HoonVader6969,” Jake growled into the mic of his headphones. “You have contributed nothing to this game.” 
“Hey!” HoonVader6969 protested from the other side. “I have 2 kills!” 
“2 kills in 8 rounds is pathetic, you son of a bitch!” 
“What the hell, LegendJake404?” HeeKing1510 exclaimed as Ddeonu8809 used his ability and killed an enemy. “Hop off HoonVader6969’s dick! You didn’t land any kills and were the first to die in almost all matches!” 
Jake snorted. “I’d hop off HoonVader6969’s wiener if he had one.” 
JongDong111 laughed. “Can confirm from experience that LegendJake404 is right.”
“Shut the fuck up, Jay!” HoonVader6969 yelled in a strained voice. “We had a deal!” 
“The deal was to not mention the size of your dick to people we know,” JongDong111—Jay—countered smoothly. “I don’t think we’d associate ourselves with someone who calls themself a fucking legend.” 
“You’re one to talk,” Ddeonu8809 came to Jake’s defence. “You literally have a dong in your name.” 
Jake froze, identifying his teammate immediately. The reaction cost him, and he died. Now watching the game through JongDong111’s perspective, he exclaimed, “Sunoo?!” 
“Yeah,” he replied, unamused. “It’s me. You got yourself killed again, by the way, asshole.” 
“Damn,” HeeKing1510 muttered. “You all knowing each other is making me feel left out.” 
“Woah,” Jake interrupted. “Why am I an asshole?”
“Y/N’s been depressed all week because of you! It’s no fun being mean to her when she isn’t willing to fight back!” 
Jay whistled lowly. “Valorant player breaking a girl’s heart? That’s gotta make headlines. Some of us can’t even talk to the opposite gender.” 
“I’m gonna fuck you up, Jay,” HoonVader6969 threatened. “Stop indirecting me.” 
“Sure, Sunghoon,” Jay mocked. “We’ll see how good your fucking skills are.” 
“Get back in the closet, fucker. June’s over,” Jake snapped. “Sunoo, what do you mean Y/N is depressed because of me? She rejected me!” 
Jay hummed. “Oh, yeah, this version makes more sense.”
“You think she doesn’t feel anything for you? Did you even ever ask why she turned you down?” Sunoo questioned as another round began. Jake chose his ammunition, thousands of thoughts racing through his mind at the speed of light. He was utterly confused; what was Sunoo implying? “Or have you been screening her calls and leaving her texts on delivered all week?” 
“Not cool, dude,” HeeKing1510 said in a disappointed voice. “Also, I’m Heeseung.” 
“Nobody cares.” 
“I see why Jay bullies you, Sunghoon.” 
Jake ignored them. “I needed some space to get my shit together. She begged me to stop confessing right after she kissed me, Sunoo. And now she’s trying to get back in touch with me? What am I supposed to think?!” 
It was incredibly stupid of Jake to talk about his shitty love life in front of a bunch of strangers who had probably never felt the warmth of another person, but he didn’t care. He needed answers. What the hell was Sunoo talking about? 
“Look.” Sunoo sighed. “I don’t wanna say anything on Y/N’s behalf, but I’ll suggest you to not ghost her and respond. You guys need to talk. She knows that which is why she’s trying to get hold of you.” 
“Why do you know so much about this Y/N person?” Sunghoon asked suspiciously. 
“She’s my neighbour slash best friend slash mortal enemy slash parasite on my Netflix account.” 
Jake frowned. “Your best friend trashed your car?”  
“Wait, she was the one who trashed my car?!” 
Jake pulled his computer’s plug. 
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Your jaw was quite literally on the floor. 
Jake had finally texted you back and agreed to meet you the same night. However, instead of feeling relieved that you’d be able to explain yourself to him, you felt on edge and jittery. 
No matter how much you tried, you couldn’t stop being nervous about what his reaction would be.  
After several sleepless nights and a lot of overthinking, you’d at long last deduced why his opinion of you mattered so much. 
You were in love with him. And you were scared that once you revealed your past to him, he wouldn’t accept it and love you for all your faults. 
You knew Jake deserved more credit than you were giving him—he understood you like no one else did, for God’s sake—but your fear of opening up to someone and laying yourself bare in front of them was tearing you apart. 
Maybe part of you hoped he would feel overwhelmed. Maybe part of you thought it would be better if he didn’t want to deal with your issues. Maybe part of you felt that you didn’t deserve Jake because you still hadn’t forgiven yourself for your brother’s death. 
Maybe that was why you had pushed him away and were sabotaging your relationship. Maybe it was all to punish yourself and hurting Jake in the process had only been the collateral. 
God, you were a terrible person for keeping your feelings bottled up and not dealing with them. You never should have left him in the dark. 
Sighing, you turned on your stomach and screamed into your pillow. You’d been lying in bed all day, not even bothering to go downstairs to drink water when you felt thirsty. 
Your parents had knocked on your door, concerned, but you’d waved them away and said you were on your period and had cramps. 
They didn’t believe you, but you were too distracted by Jake to tell them you weren’t thinking about your brother. You didn’t stop them when they booked an appointment with your therapist the next day. 
Feeling a little better after having screamed your lungs out, you dragged yourself out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. 
You looked absolutely horrible. The person staring back at you from the mirror reminded you of the initial few weeks after your brother’s death. You had huge dark circles under your bloodshot eyes, and your lips were chapped and colourless. 
Your hair was a bird’s nest. Your head was pounding, and you had to grip the sink to keep yourself steady. 
You had to clean up. You couldn’t let Jake see you like this. There was nothing you could do to get rid of the exhaustion visible in your eyes, but you could have a bath and put on some makeup to cover your awful physical state at least. 
Taking a deep breath, you nodded to yourself. 
I can do this. 
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Jake thought you had told him to meet you at the town park near your house instead of the skatepark that was slightly farther for a reason. Given what had happened the last time you were in his car, he suspected you didn’t want to enter it again.
Or maybe the place reminded you of your ruined friendship. It certainly did to him. He hadn’t visited the skatepark at all the past week. 
Jake had no way to confirm what your intentions were, so all he did was drive anxiously to your decided meeting place. 
You weren’t meeting in the dead of the night this time. It was early—around 6 p.m—and he couldn’t help but think you had suggested that hour because the town park was filled with people. 
Did you not want to be alone with him either?  
Shaking his head to get rid of the intrusive thoughts, Jake parked his car in the parking space and shut the door behind him. 
As he walked to the benches near the pond you had agreed to meet at, his phone lit up. 
y/n: i’m here
jake: omw 
He frowned at his reply. Was he being too informal? Should he have said something along the lines of almost there?
Before he could overthink anymore, a voice broke him out of his reverie. He jumped a bit, not expecting to have already reached the benches. 
“Hey,” you mumbled and attempted a smile. Upon failing miserably, you cleared your throat and averted your gaze away from him. 
Jake’s heart clenched. He was relieved to see you again after a week of zero contact, but he hated the sight of you looking so exhausted. You’d covered up your dark circles with concealer and tried to put some colour to your face using a rosy blush, but he saw right through it all. 
Maybe he should have not ignored you. It seemed that while he was busy getting over your rejection, he hadn’t given much thought to how his confession had affected you. 
“How are you?” Jake asked as he took a seat beside you on the other end of the bench. He realised what a stupid question it was the moment the words left his mouth. You looked miserable. 
You shrugged and wrapped your hands around yourself. He could barely see your face because of your hoodie. “Surviving. You?” 
“Surviving.” 
Silence followed your short-lived conversation. Jake racked his brain to search for things to say, but you beat him to it. 
“Are you wearing concealer?” 
His eyes widened. “W—what?” 
“It’s not blended well.” You pointed at his swollen eyes half-heartedly. “You did a sloppy job.”
Embarrassment crept up Jake’s neck and tinted the tips of his ears red. “Yeah? So did you.” 
You closed your mouth at that. Personally, you thought you’d done a good job at covering how pathetic you felt. You’d gone as far as watching a few episodes of Modern Family to uplift your spirits. Your parents had even said that you looked better when you were leaving the house. 
But then again, it had never been hard for Jake to read you. 
Sighing, you dropped your gaze to your lap and fumbled with your fingers. “Thanks for coming.” 
“I’m sorry for ignoring you.” 
Swallowing thickly, you nodded once. “I’m sorry too.” 
“Y/N,” Jake begged. “Look at me. Please.” 
Eyes burning, you hesitantly faced him. There were tears welling in his bloodshot eyes too but he didn’t bother wiping them away. It broke your heart to see how much your actions had hurt him. 
You knew him well enough to know he hadn’t put makeup on to protect his pride but to protect you from feeling even more terrible about what you had done. 
You needed to tell him the truth. Right now. He deserved to know all of it. 
Wiping your tears, you asked him, “Do you remember the night we met? I told you my brother was going to come to pick me up but then you dropped me home after we finished icing my ankle in the supermarket?” 
Slowly, Jake nodded. “I do.” 
“I lied to you that day,” you continued, bracing yourself for what you were about to say next. “My brother was never going to come to pick me up. He’s dead. He has been for a little over a year now.” 
You couldn’t bear to see the shock on his face. You couldn’t bring yourself to wait for the sympathy to replace it instead. So, you looked away again and kept talking before he could speak, 
“He was a skater too. A really good one. He loved me and cared a lot for me. I used to be so surprised when my friends talked shit about their brothers. Mine used to tease me a lot but he never got me into trouble. We were tight, and always had each other’s backs. 
“I sneaked out to a party one day and my brother caught me. Usually, he drove me wherever I needed to go because I have overprotective parents, but he’d donated blood that day and he wasn’t supposed to drive. I buttered him up and got him to let me borrow his car keys on the condition that I wouldn’t drink and would come back home before dawn. I was desperate to leave so I brushed him off and promised him that I would stay sober.” 
Laughing humourlessly, you shook your head. Your lower lip wobbled as you resumed, “Spoiler alert: I didn’t keep the fucking promise. I got absolutely wasted. Somehow, my brother got to know and left to pick me up. I think it was through someone’s snap because I remember drinking from a beer bong and people recording it. He didn’t want me staying at my friend’s place overnight because that would have gotten both of us in trouble.” 
You sniffled and swallowed a sob. Jake and you were in a fairly secluded place but there were still a few other people, and you didn’t want any unwanted attention. 
“He got in my mom’s car to come to get me—he thought he’d given enough time for the side effects of the donation to fade. The police said he must have fainted while driving. The doctors performed surgery on him the entire night, but they couldn’t save him.” 
Finally looking at Jake, you said, “And you know what the worst part is? I didn’t know he’d been in a car crash till he was dead. Amidst all the panic, my parents didn’t think about waking me up when they got the call, so they never knew I wasn’t at home. I had passed out at my friend’s house from partying too much while my brother died on his way to pick me up.”
Jake’s lips parted. “Y/N…” 
“Everyone keeps saying it wasn’t my fault and my brother should have known better because he was an adult. I hate that my parents don’t hate me for killing their firstborn. I hate that they’re paying one of the best therapists in town to get me through this. I hate that nobody blames me even though I’m responsible for his death. I’m supposed to face the consequences of what I’ve done. I’m supposed to be suffering and I hate that you make things easier for me. I hate that I’ve made you fall in love with a killer—”
“You’re not a killer, Y/N—” 
“Then what else am I!” you burst, tears freely falling down your face now. “I’m a horrible person, Jake! I don’t deserve you and your goodness. I don’t deserve love!” 
“Don’t say that—” 
“Do you know why I was at the skatepark the other day?” you asked angrily. “I wanted to learn how to skateboard so I could feel closer to my brother. He always wanted to teach me. He thought it would be a good way for us to bond, but I always had an excuse. Extracurriculars, academics, exams—I never made time for him and his passion. I wanted to learn how to skateboard because it was my way of keeping him in my heart. 
“But then you came along, and you made me so happy. You knew nothing about my past, and I craved the normalcy I felt when I was with you. It was so easy to befriend you because I didn’t have to take your sympathy and be treated as someone who needed to be fixed. It was so easy to fall in love with you because you were able to offer me comfort despite having no idea about the most traumatic experience of my life!
“I thought I could push you away. I thought I could punish myself by not allowing myself to move on, but I only broke your heart in the process. I don’t know what to do. I don’t wanna be hurting anymore, but it feels wrong and selfish to wish for happiness when I’ve done such a monstrous thing.” 
The floodgates were released, and you were sobbing openly now. Your throat was closing up and its insides felt like sandpaper. Your head was throbbing, and your vision was completely foggy. You felt dizzy. 
Jake scooted closer and wrapped his arms around you, tears falling from his eyes as well. He pulled you against him and let you bury your face in his chest. He hated seeing you in so much agony, but he had no words to offer. 
So, he let you cry for as long as you wanted, rubbing soothing circles on your back and caressing your hair. 
Jake couldn’t even begin to imagine going through such a loss. He admired you for pushing through for so long. He was proud of you for being brave enough to open up to him. 
He still loved you just as much and he was going to make sure to never leave your side as you navigated through your pain. 
Never.
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“Jake, we’re late!” 
“Hold on, I’m trying to find my hoodie!” 
Grimacing, you yelled back, “I was wearing it yesterday and spilt mustard sauce on it.”
There was silence for a moment. Then heavy footsteps that sounded a lot like stomping. Then—
“You did what?!”
“I’m sorry!” you whined. “I’ve dropped it at the dry cleaners already!”
Jake gave you a dirty look and shrugged on the denim jacket lying on his sofa. “Don’t bother returning it.” 
“I can’t do that,” you said and slipped your hand through his, tugging him along. “You have to wear it for a few weeks so it starts smelling like you again and I can steal it once more.” 
“I’d offer you another hoodie, but I don’t know how I feel about something else being spilt on it.” 
“Bold of you to assume you have any hoodies left, skater boy.” 
Despite himself, Jake laughed and pulled you close, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You cheeky motherfucker.” 
“What are you going to do about it?” you challenged as the two of you reached his car and strapped yourselves. 
He hummed. “Leave early?”
“C’mon, threaten me with something realistic.” 
“You don’t think I’d do it?”
“You love me too much and haven’t seen me in over two weeks. I know you wouldn’t do it. I’m actually surprised you even thought of it.” 
“You got me.”
Snorting, you relaxed and looked outside the window. It was a pleasant day outside. The sky was clear, and the sun was shining. Everyone had huge smiles, thanks to the beginning of summer break. 
Jake and you had been dating for a little less than two years now. You were both in college now and pursuing your dreams. Unfortunately, you couldn’t get into the same university, but were thankfully in the same state, living just an hour away from each other. 
You didn’t know if you could call your relationship long-distance since traffic was the main reason your travel time crossed the sixty minutes mark.
Nonetheless, you were happy and were making it work. You were in a much better place than you were two years ago. You had an amazing boyfriend who loved you more than you thought was possible and stood by your side no matter what, and a therapist who actually understood you and helped you come to terms. 
Right now, the two of you were on your way to the local skatepark. You hadn’t been able to find much time to keep practising, but Jake had kept his skills polished and made it a point to visit the park at least three to four times a week. 
You were probably going to hurt yourself and make a huge fool of yourself in front of the kids who skated there—he had told you they were extremely talented for their age and had taught him some new stuff too—but it was okay. 
You weren’t afraid to fall anymore; you knew Jake would always be there to catch you. 
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delcakoo · 2 years
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enhas reaction to finding you crying´ˎ˗
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requested <3
⇘ PAIRING ! enhypen x gn!reader
⇘ GENRE ! bucket loads of fluff n’ comforting
⇘ WC ! 4k
⇘ WARNINGS ! mention of alcohol in jay’s, blood + slightly desc knee injury in heeseung’s
a/n: cutest promp ever aa, thank u for the req and enjoy anonnie!
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// LEE HEESEUNG!
heeseung would do his very best to be calm and mature, but on the inside mans is panicking :( his approach would be to first analyze the situation; if it’s something super serious, he’ll ask if you want to talk about it, and if you do he’s of course ready to listen. but if not, he’s down to distract you by playing video games or going on a movie marathon!
after a troublesome amount of convincing, heeseung has coaxed you into going skateboarding with him. now don’t get the wrong idea— you had no clue what you were doing, but your boyfriend insisted that with his help you’d be a pro by the end of the day (doubt).
but to your surprise, it wasn’t exactly going badly; you’ve learned how to balance properly on the board and even managed to glide around the skatepark slowly. though you haven’t exactly learned how to turn yet, so you were kind of stuck going in a line unless heeseung helped you— but he was determined to change that.
“one sec, i’m gonna get the sunscreen,” your boyfriend decides, surveying the sun now peeking through the clouds as he pushes up from the concrete, “keep practising, remember to lean to whatever side you’re turning but not too much!”
“okay,” you offer him a quick peck before shoo-ing him off, looking back down at the skateboard waiting by your feet.
heeseung would be really damn proud if you learned to turn all by yourself.
your mind was set. the parking lot was a while away; you had time and you wanted to impress your boyfriend. with that, you hop back onto the board and push, staring concentratedly down at your feet as you slowly lean to the right. gradually, the board starts to follow your body, turning with you ever so slowly.
you grin cockily, “hee, look! i’m doing i—“
before you knew what hit you, you’re back onto the ground, vision winded and blurred. you feel grateful for the helmet on your head, hissing at the growing burns stinging through various spots on your legs.
“oh shit, i’m so sorry!” a male’s voice yelps, and you barely make out a worried silhouette through your still hazy vision. against your will, you feel tears start to blur your vision at the intense sting on your right knee in specific, wincing at the feeling of your skin scraping against the concrete.
“fuck,” the stranger notices your tears, guilt creeping further onto him, “your knee’s bleeding bad. hold on i’ll find some help.”
though he doesn’t exactly get the chance to go searching, as a familiar figure in a white tank top appears back next to you. “what the— jesus christ, what happened?!” heeseung exclaims, quickly throwing away the sunscreen in his hands to inspect your fresh wounds.
“i’m so sorry, it was an accident! i was just doing some tricks but they kinda— well, they turned right into me.”
“sorry about that,” you chuckle awkwardly, finally regaining your vision after many rapid blinks through your tears.
heeseung huffs, barely offering the guy a glance. “alright,” he offers his hand out to you. slightly confused, you take it, carefully getting off the ground. “i have bandages in the car. let’s just go play mario party instead,” he grins, “i’ll let you pick my character.”
your eyes immediately brighten comically, completely forgetting the reason you were crying just moments ago, “really!? so you’ll be peach, and i’ll be yoshi right?”
heeseung sighs in defeat, reaching up to wipe your tears, “whatever you want, love.”
// PARK JAY !
this man is not having it! what made his beloved cry?! he is so ready to help in whatever way you need, no matter if that’s just cuddling on the couch or taking you on a whole shopping spree, his card in your hand of course~
jay was alone for once at enhas dorm, in the middle of peeling potatoes for dinner. in all honesty, he wasn’t sure where his members were, but he didn’t mind spending a bit of time without six other boys causing chaos around the place. his peeling came to a stop though when he heard a slightly aggressive knock at the door, quickly pausing his task to go see what the commotion was about.
jay pulls open the door only to find you at the stairs, tears brimming your red eyes. you're wearing your work uniform, arms crossed over your chest. his stomach immediately drops, quickly pulling you inside and giving you a hug. “honey, what happened?”
you sniffle against his chest, “i fucking hate my boss— no. i hate my coworkers. actually,” you pull away to see his handsome face, “i hate my job.”
your boyfriend sighs, ushering you over to sit at the countertop while he turns on the kettle, preparing a mug and a teabag for you. “i mean, it’s just ridiculous at that place! absolutely no coordination whatsoever,” you vent, tears still angrily flowing down your cheeks, “how am i expected to do the dishes, empty the garbage, then apparently sprint back in the front to serve people while those asshats just laze around gossiping! and also..”
jay will listen to you rant for as long as you need, humming along the way as a reminder of his presence. “gosh, that’s so unfair for you, seriously,” he acknowledges, pouring the boiling water into the cup for you, “they treat you horribly. why doesn’t your boss do anything?”
you scowl, “on the rare occasion that he actually shows up, he’s busy drinking the alcohol that’s supposed to be for the customers.”
jay sighs, grabbing a jar of honey to add to your drink, “there has to be some other place you can apply for, jagi. i don’t want you there anymore, it seriously sounds dangerous, not to mention unorganized.”
“i know, i don’t either.” you ponder for a moment, “well, i heard there was a new bookstore that opened nearby.”
jay beams, offering you the hot drink along with a quick peck to your lips, “perfect, we’ll go check it out tomorrow, hm?” you nod, already feeling much calmer as you take the mug into your hand gratefully.
“you’re quitting that place tomorrow,” he states, “after i give that shitty boss of yours a piece of my mind.”
// SIM JAKE !
poor guy freaks out, don’t act surprised if he starts bawling too :C at first jake might be a bit hesitant and unsure of what to do, but he’ll still do his absolute best to cheer you up and comfort you. probably the best cuddle buddy of all, especially when you’re in desperate need of some babying <3
unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend was planning to surprise you by coming over in just a few minutes. jake’s been busy with promotions all month, but was finally able to get some free time in which he was more than excited to spend with you.
however, his exciting plan went down the drain when he unlocked your front door to find you curled up on the couch, face puffy and red. at the sight of him, you frantically fix yourself up and wipe your cheeks in an attempt to look normal. “babe? what are you doing here?” you mumble.
he doesn’t reply, instead rushing over to tightly pull you into his embrace. at the unexpected but comforting closeness, you begin to quietly sob again onto his shoulder. jake frowns further, stroking your back soothingly. “love, that seriously just broke my heart.”
“i’m sorry.”
“no,” he quickly voices, kissing your cheek, “i’m sorry that i wasn’t here. are you okay?”
you nod while he leads you to sit back on the couch, feeling a bit nervous on how to approach the whole situation. he gulps, “d-do you want to talk about it right now?”
you swallow anxiously, fiddling with your fingers, “i’d prefer a bit later.”
jake shakes his head in understanding, looking around the room for a distraction. out of the corner of his eye, he notices his soccer ball that he must’ve left the last time he came over, a small smile beginning to grow on his face. at the sight of his cheeky expression, your face quickly follows to match his grin. “why’re you doing that face?” you chuckle.
jake snickers mischievously. “huh? what face?”
“that face you make when you and niki have thought of another dumb prank to pull on jay.”
he giggles, suddenly jumping up from the couch and running over to grab the ball near your front door. “if you score on me, i’ll pay for dinner,” he smirks, presenting the ball to you, “and if i score on you… uh, i’ll still pay for dinner.”
you look at him suspiciously. “but! you have to give me a kiss,” he finishes.
you raise an eyebrow, “y’know i would do that either w—“
he cuts you off, “okay! see you outside~”
to no surprise, jake won and you called him a tryhard ^^ he still enjoyed his prize though!!
// PARK SUNGHOON !
sunghoon being sunghoon would be quite awkward at first, it’s just the truth T-T he wouldn’t know what to do, should he even touch you? do you want to be alone? maybe he should be giving you space— or wait, what if you need him and his cuddles!? poor boy would be worrying out of his mind on how to help, so you’ll have to be a bit clear on what you need from him.
it’s getting later and later into the day, and you still haven’t moved from your desk. sunghoon has visited you, who’s locked themself alone inside the bedroom studying, multiple times throughout the afternoon, begging you to give your brain a break. each attempt has had no effect, insisting every time that you ‘had to get this done’ and only needed ‘a bit longer’. your boyfriend has finally decided it’s been a bit longer.
sunghoon doesn’t knock like he did during his past appearances, simply barging in with a slightly annoyed expression. “y/n, i’m serious this time. you’ve been sitting in this shithole,” he spits, pointing to the crumpled pieces of papers scattered around the desk, “for way too—“ his scolding comes to an immediate stop when he looks up to see tears absolutely flooding down your face, your eyes bloodshot and red.
his lips stutter, frozen in the doorway watching as you let out a strangled cry, turning away from him in shame. “wh—what happened?”
you refuse to look into his eyes, focusing on your laptop. “i don’t know anymore, i just can’t do it,” you sniffle, “been here all day yet i still don’t get these concepts.”
he crouches next to your desk, nervously grasping your jaw and pulling you to look at him. in all honesty, sunghoon just wants to embrace you into a tight hug, but he glues himself to his spot next to you, not wanting to overstep. “love, you need to give yourself the breaks you deserve,” he whispers, brushing away your tears, “how do you expect your brain to work properly when you haven’t eaten or even moved all afternoon?”
sunghoon is beginning to feel guilt flush through him for not forcing you out of here sooner, watching as you push back your hair in frustration. but now he knows for sure that you need him, grabbing your under arms and scooping you up like a toddler. “yah, what’re you doing..” you fake annoyance, secretly smiling in appreciation against his shoulder.
“taking care of my big baby,” he coos back, settling you down on the countertop before beginning to prepare a meal for you both.
the next day, sunghoon does his best to help you study by not only testing you off flashcards and proofreading your work, but setting multiple “y/n break time” alarms throughout the day. and in the end, his strategy worked; you found yourself getting much more done despite spending less time burning holes into your computer screen.
this also means that sunghoon was right for once. expect him to be bragging about how helpful he was and that you now “owe him big time”. >:[
// KIM SUNOO !
sunoo’s biggest fear is seeing you cry :( literally shatters his heart into pieces, and despite his calm appearance he is ready to fight anyone who made you sad. please expect lots of cuddles and attention later, he’ll be extra affectionate with you for the next couple of days after seeing you so upset. baby might also offer to take you out somewhere or do your skin care routine to take your mind off whatever happened!
you and your boyfriend were just coming back from a convenience store run when the chirpy melody of an ice cream truck stops you in your tracks. “sun!” you gasp, you releasing your hand from sunoo’s to pointing in the truck’s direction. “let’s go!”
“yah, i’m supposed to be on a diet you know that right?” he complains from behind you, jogging to catch up.
you pout at that, tugging his sleeve like a child, “c’mon, just this one time?”
sometimes sunoo hates the fact that he simply can’t say no to you. “fine but i’m not getting anything,” he reminds, swiftly pulling out his wallet.
you cheer, excitedly ordering your mouth watering, drool inducing, oreo and kitkat double scooped ice cream cone with hot fudge. sunoo stares at the monstrosity in disgust, watching as the old man hands the dessert to you with an emotionless gaze. “seriously.. how can you eat that?”
you shrug. “don’t be a hater,” you reply simply, walking off to find a bench with your boyfriend following close behind.
“excuse me?” sunoo spits, flabbergasted, “do i need to remind you who purchased that.. thing for you?”
you giggle at his glare, taking your first mouth of the ice cream. “thank you, babe. but also, could i please get some napkins?” you ask, desperately trying to lick up the melting droplets racing down the cone.
sunoo finds himself back at the ice cream truck per your request, thanking the man after receiving a couple brown napkins for you. he skips back over to the bench, folding the paper neatly as he approaches you. “here you go, big baby. but next time you’re taking m—“ he’s turned speechless at the sight of a single tear falling down your face, arms crossed in annoyance with absolutely no sign of your oreo and kitkat double scooped ice cream cone with hot fudge in sight.
he frowns, shoving the napkins into his pocket and frantically crouching down to see you. “what— where’s your ice cream!? why’re you crying, love?”
you point over to a group of teen boys who are laughing in the distance, a familiar ice cream in one of their hands. “those dipshits stole it out of my fucking hand. i wanted to do something but— i don’t know, they intimidated me or something. fuck, that’s so embarrassing.” you grimace, biting your lip in frustration.
sunoo feels anger flow through him at that, poking his cheek with his tongue. “stay here, okay?”
you look up at the boy, sniffling, “what? why?”
he rubs your shoulder, pushing himself up from his crouching position. “i’ll be back with a new ice cream, a triple scoop this time,” he promises. “and i’m going to teach those assholes a lesson.”
while your boyfriend may look like a pure, loving dumpling, he was not one to be messed with; you learned this when you found him giddily walking back over to you moments later with the ice cream thieves behind him, feeling pleased as they paid him back for the stolen dessert and even bowed as they apologised to you.
“how the hell did you get them to do that?”
“i have my ways y/n,” he grins innocently, gesturing to your new, triple scooped ice cream, “now eat, i worked hard for this ugly thing.”
// YANG JUNGWON !
probably the most ready during the situation. just like won, you’re pretty bad at showing how you feel, especially if you’re upset. but even so, he does an amazing job at reading the situation (despite freaking out slightly on the inside) since he knows you like the back of his hand. though, he’d also get a bit insecure on if he’s really helping you how you need, so a simple thank you or some affection once you’re feeling better would go a long way for him!
jungwon’s eyes are pitch black, the normal, shimmering gleam in them vanished. “i don’t even love you y/n. i’ve been lying to you this whole time— honestly, who would ever love you?“ he barks, crossing his arms.
no, jungwon would never say that. it’s okay, this isn’t real.
“oh, it’s real alright,” your boyfriend walks closer to you, suddenly pushing you backwards in a way rougher than he’s ever touched you before. “pathetic y/n, always taking up all my time and bothering me all day. how did i even manage to keep up this facade for so long?” he chuckles in disbelief, staring down at your trembling figure on the floor.
this is all wrong.
you jolt awake, stressfully glancing at your bedside clock to read 2:26am. you begin to shiver, pushing your hair back before turning around. see, it wasn’t real. it was a dream, jungwon loves you and he’s right he—
no. where is jungwon? his side of the bed is completely messed up, and he isn’t in the washroom; all the lights still remain off. you begin to feel tears build up in your eyes, your anxiety is through the roof, and your fingers begin to shake much like your trembling lips. it was just a dream, he didn’t abandon you. he wouldn’t.
right?
for a few more moments, you sit in bed, debating whether you should go search for your boyfriend as tears silently cascade down your face. you felt weak and pathetic. it was totally unlike you to cry about something as small as a nightmare, but the feeling of vulnerability took over anything else at the moment.
thankfully, you didn’t have to feel that way for much longer. “jagiya?” your head snaps towards the bedroom door, seeing a half asleep jungwon walk in with a glass of water. “did i wake you? aish, i even left the lights off to try and keep you asleep. sorry,” he rasps, his voice still deep and cracky from being asleep minutes prior as he plops back into bed next to you.
“wonnie?” you sniffle, voice slightly uneven.
jungwon quickly turns to you in the darkness at that, worriedly turning on his lamp to be met with your wet, puffed up face. his mouth opens in shock, reaching over to pull you as tightly as he can into his chest. “hey, i just went to get a drink. what happened?”
in utter relief, you relax into his hold, sniffling quietly. “had a bad dream. it was horrible, won. you said so many mean things to me.”
jungwon feels his heart shatter at that, rubbing soothing shapes against the dip of your back. “did i? i’ll have to fight this dream-jungwon then, he’s an idiot.” you snort at that, making him grin against your shoulder. “the real jungwon knows he’d never say a mean thing to you, ever.”
you wipe your tears against his white t-shirt, giggling slightly. “you even pushed me to the ground.”
jungwon gasps, “that’s it. i’m killing that guy— or well, me. me in your dream! i’ll fight myself!” you laugh more, finally looking up to push your lips to his, hugging him closer in appreciation. at the sudden affection, jungwon quickly recovers and kisses you back, wrapping his arms around your waist happily.
when you pull away from the kiss, he suddenly stretches like a cat, licking his lips. “so, wanna make hot chocolate?”
you give him an unimpressed look, wiping your last tears before glancing at the clock once again. “baby, it’s 2am.”
“exactly! everyone knows hot chocolate tastes better at 2am!”
well? are you gonna say no to this boy? i don’t think so!! go make your hot chocolate :D
// NISHIMURA RIKI !
mr maknae being the unserious boy he is might laugh at first. not because he thinks you being upset is funny! it’s just, the only time you let him see you cry is when it’s from watching a sad romance drama or animal videos, so he thinks of it as not a big deal anymore and instead opts for taking pictures and making fun of you. but once he realises this time you’re genuinely distressed about something he goes into full protective and caretaker mode (a side of him he rarely shows) and will not hesitate to kiss your tears away! no tears are permitted when he’s around!! >:(
your swearing echoes through the dance studio, overthrowing the music playing through your speaker. being part of a competitive dance team meant practising until perfection. no matter 1pm or 1am, if you don’t know your dance, you better stay in that damn studio until it’s permanently engraved in your head.
so here you were, sometime around midnight perhaps, doing your best to finish up memorizing your team’s difficult performance. one section in particular has been bugging you for a while now; you just couldn’t seem to get the steps shown in the tutorial playing on your laptop down, leading to grunts in frustration at every failure.
you glance at the time on the blaring screen. 12:24. were you that incompetent? why is it that all your teammates got to leave on time, while you had to stay back for hours trying to catch up to them? perhaps you weren’t meant to be on this team. maybe you just aren’t good enough.
even if you try your hardest to hold them in, your vision become blurry with tears as they cascade down your cheeks involuntarily, negative thoughts rushing through your brain. you aggressively wipe the droplets away with clenched fists, damn it y/n, get a hold of yourself.
a small snicker is suddenly heard from behind you, sounding mischievous as if the person had caught you in the act of something embarrassing. “you watching more ‘animals reuniting with their owner’ compilations or something?” you whip your head around with a frown, immediately recognising the voice of your boyfriend, who’s now staring down at you teasingly.
his grin drops slightly when he takes in your irritated expression, unravelling his hands from deep within his hoodie pockets. “hey.. you okay?”
you scoff, turning back away from the boy. “do i look okay riki? why’re you even here, it’s nearly one in the morning.”
niki doesn’t respond for a moment, nervously sitting down next to you. you busy yourself with your laptop, replaying the dance tutorial once again. “i wanted to see you.” you don’t reply, sniffling slightly as you wipe your still falling, annoying tears.
he’ll never admit it, but niki feels the desperate need to hold you and kiss away those tears. but it was clear you didn’t want that right now.
anxiously fidgeting around next to you, he’s completely unused to the feeling of you ignoring his presence, unlike the usual moments of you practically jumping on him the moment he walked in the room.
“baby,” he mumbles cautiously.
“what?” you spit, already feeling guilt wash over you at your unintentionally harsh tone.
“look at me.” you obey, turning to make eye contact with your boyfriend who’s now frowning himself. you only begin to feel worse at his saddened expression.
“you don’t have to tell me about whatever’s going on right now, but let’s at least go home n’ rest for the night. you really deserve it and i’m proud of you.” niki tests his luck, reaching out to gently rub your shoulder.
maybe it’s because it’s him, but that’s all you needed to hear. you push yourself up from your spot on the ground to jump on the boy, hugging him closely with your cheek pressed to his. niki freezes for a second, slowly reaching up to wrap you up in his embrace as well. at the sound of you sniffling once again, he pulls back to watch a tear fall down your face, reaching down to kiss it off.
he smacks his lips, “your tears are salty.”
you sigh, unsurprised at the sudden mood kill. “way to ruin the moment.”
if you enjoyed, commenting your thoughts/reblogs are always appreciated n’ motivating!
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perm taglist: @duolingofanaccount @strawberry-sunset-skies @scented-morker @boowoowho @sultrybaby @koshinene
2K notes · View notes
thezoraprince · 6 months
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BotW/TotK men as dads
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i have baby fever that won't go away
anyway, here's a... something
enjoy <3
Link
oh it’s gonna be wild
most rambunctious child (including Rivan’s)
sweet and caring
but overall, CHAOTIC
will teach his child literally everything he knows
not many words are spoken, but there’s so much love
sign language is a big thing for sure
hugs galore
will defend his child as if his life depended on it
Sidon (i have so many for Sidon, so only adding a little bit here)
so confident
yet so scared
lots of learning
gentle
the love in the household is UNREAL
takes his kid everywhere Mipha took him
the fun is never ending
Bazz
so much unlearning
scared he’s not giving his child enough attention
wants to spend all of his time with them
think’s he’s not good enough of a father
doesn’t know how to have deep; meaningful conversations
doesn’t want to be like his own father
loves and cares SO deeply
once he gets past all the heavy stuff, he’s the best dad a kid could have
Rivan
already a dad, and a good one at that
literally so on top of his game
others cannot compare
takes his kid to work and shows them how cool everyone is
“Bazz is a little on edge because you’re here, but we won’t worry about that.”
the fun dad
Dunma babysits sometimes to give Rivan a break
but he ends up not going anywhere because he loves his little family THAT much
silly af
an actual dilf
perfect father
100000/10
Ledo
so gentle
so kind
will literally gift his kid rocks that look cool
teaches them everything Dento taught him
would probably ask Dento to babysit
has the most well behaved child out of anyone on this list
another apprentice in the making
would hand-make his child toys
Revali
asshole stepdad energy to start with
lots of unlearning
lots of re-learning
scared shitless
once he eventually realizes his actions have consequences, he’ll own up to his mistakes
ends up being a cool dad
“don’t talk to me or my son ever again” energy
takes his child to the flight range everyday
“You’re the best, and don’t forget it.”
Teba
already a dad, and a cool one
Tulin is such a good brother (but man is he a little shit sometimes)
the kids would go to the flight range and Teba would let them go by themselves
not like he has a village to run or anything…
a little more strict than the others on this list, but it’s out of love and safety
trusts Tulin to take care of his younger sibling
goes with both of them to the flight range once every two weeks to watch what they’ve been working on
wants the best for his kids
but doesn’t want to get in the way of their fun
Daruk
a cool dad
wise
also fun
would be the one to take his child to the skatepark
Goron City better watch out, because these two are fly af
funny dad jokes
would call his kid ‘kiddo’ unironically
“kiddo goro”
Yunobo
i cannot see this one as a dad
more like the distant uncle
but he’d be so sweet
and so caring
so afraid he’d fuck up
needs constant reassurance
gentle af
takes things too personally
Tauro
THE cool dad
dilf energy for sure
would take his kid to research the Zonai ruins
and he’d probably end up losing them 30% of the time
don’t worry, they know where they are
uses his research and findings for teaching his child
these two would be the most knowledgable people in Hyrule 
Rauru
the wise one
and SO chill
and helpful af
only takes part in chaos if it’s the fun kind
will shut down ANY ‘funny business’
defends his child with his life
together they pick flowers for Sonia
the love is unmatched
and the surprises are never ending 
162 notes · View notes
hannie-dul-set · 7 months
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모기 / MOGI — [c.bg].
SYNOPSIS. in which all of your life, you and beomgyu have been stuck together like glue whether you liked it or not. and as much as you want to change that, life seems to have different plans.
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PAIRING. choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRE. childhood friends to not quite friends (derogatory) to not quite friends (endearment), romance, humor, very light-barely there angst, pining idiots, college! au with flashes to high school, featuring an ensemble of 01z idols. WARNINGS. swearing, many many (fake) death threats, so much secondhand embarrassment, mentions of sex, mentions of blood and gore, the worldly problems of a teenager, mc has anger issues, gossip. WORD COUNT. 14k.
TAGLIST. @matcha-binz @bgomtori @lotties-posts @bearbeom @bbinwrld @beomies-world @baekberrie @20-cms @jenodreamer
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NOTE. it is here! alternatively titled: all the reasons you don't like choi beomgyu (but maybe you do). this is just a v quick v fun read (i hope HAHHAHA). parts in past tense and within parenthesis are set in the past! hope you enjoy mosquito gyu and please let me know what you think! begging for crumbs of feedback plspls.
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YOU DON’T LIKE CHOI BEOMGYU. He’s been a thorn in your side for as long as you can remember— a far too nimble mosquito for you to catch and swat away, constantly buzzing around your ears like a mild annoyance. Mild, but annoying all the same.
The problem is, you can’t get rid of him. Not when both your families have been friends before either of you were even born. Not when you’ve been half-living in his house for the better part of your life and he’s been half-living in yours. Not when you’ve always been magically assigned to the same class for twelve god damned years and somehow, you’re now even set out to go to the same university.
It’s like the world just wants to stick the both of you together.
“Hey, fuckface.”
“What do you want, dipshit?”
Unfortunately for the world, you don’t want the same thing.
“Remember when I hauled your ass to the emergency room after you broke your leg at the skatepark in 9th grade?”
Beomgyu lets out a grunt upon hearing your question at the same time as he drops down to the ground with a thunk on the playground seesaw. “Right. That happened.” It’s late at night, the streetlights are dimming, and it’s a week before high school graduation. Not the most appropriate time to be playing around the kid-sized rides tucked in the corner of your apartment complex, but things have been penting up, and there currently seems to be no better way to deal with your physical and emotional exhaustion than by being sprung up to the air, down, and back up again.
“You also said— whoa!” You glue your feet firmly to the chalky ground before dangling your legs up once more. “You also said you’d do anything I ask after saving your ass. I’m here to collect your debt.”
The next instance, you aren’t see’d or saw’d back up. Beomgyu stays grounded, looking at with an expression you can only describe as oozing of suspicion. It is weird, you have to admit, bringing up a spur of a moment promise he made three years ago, possibly under the influence of anesthetics. You’d be suspicious of yourself, too. “Alright,” he relents after a long moment of thought. Beomgyu leans forward, resting his arms over the seesaw handle and burying his chin into his sleeves. “Spit it out. What do you want? I’ll buy it for you.”
You press your lips together. “It’s not something you can buy.”
Now, that definitely doesn’t help your case. Your crypticness is causing his brows to furrow, and Beomgyu is deep in thought wondering what the hell kind of favor your fucked up head is thinking of (especially after the shrimp incident). You can save him from misery and just spit it out right then and there, but it’s not easy for you to pull out of your mouth either. Once this night is over, your throat will be littered with sores and cuts and it’ll all be self inflicted.
“Wait.” Beomgyu suddenly jolts up and sits straight, causing the seesaw to wobble a little. His ears are peeking out the mess of his hair. It’s already way past the school policy length— a privilege of a graduating student, he says. And despite the shadowed sky cloaking the playground lot, you can clearly see the tinge of red painting the thin skin. What is he thinking? you narrow your eyes at him. The blush has spread all over his neck. "You—you—you’re not trying to ask—”
“Beomgyu,” you cut him off, sparing him from an aneurysm. “We’re starting college next month, right?”
His expression tells you he’s completely missed the mark. “Yeah...?” he sounds out, confusion riddled in his tongue. You bite down yours— an early repentance before finally throwing it out in the air.
“Can you do me a favor?” you squeak out. “Can you pretend like you don’t know me?”
Quiet washes over. You preemptively wince, expecting the impending torrent of swear words from your friend, but he doesn’t say anything. He says nothing for a long while, filling the quiet with tension-filled agony before finally saying, “I don’t understand.”
You swallow down a lump in your throat.
“What are you saying?”
There are uneasy creaks on the hinges of the seesaw set, as if it’s unsure whether to go up or down. The scent of iron seeps into your palms with how tightly you’re holding the handle. “Please pretend like we aren’t friends when we enter university,” you inhale sharply. “Better yet, act like you don’t know me at all, okay? Treat me like I was a ghost and I’ll do the same with you.” 
You don’t have the guts to look Beomgyu in the eye. You train your eyes to the graveled ground and hold in your breath, listening as the creaks of the rusty hinges slowly come to a still. He’s not saying anything. He isn’t saying anything and you’re starting to grow scared.
The seesaw finally stops rocking, and you finally hear Beomgyu’s response—
“Fine.”
—all while your ass gets dropped to the ground with an even louder thunk when Beomgyu gets off the damned thing. You let out a yelp as your body gets jerked back by the sudden recoil. 
“Hey!” you yell out, stumbling to get off the seesaw in a panic because he’s starting to walk. “Choi Beomgyu— wait up!”
“What?” he snaps his head back, and you flinch. He doesn’t look great. He doesn’t look happy at all. Guilt overhauls your entire being with a single, ringing punch and your tongue is weighed down by sand and soot and it’s difficult to swallow without the threat of choking. “I thought you wanted me to pretend like I don’t know you?”
You frown. “I did, but I didn’t mean it to be—”
Words fail when he turns his back to you once again. You can’t say anything. You can’t bring it in you to justify yourself. You can’t even find the shame to call him back. So all you can do is watch as Beomgyu slowly disappears into the evening, leaving behind more things in the playground than just you.
It’s fine, you inhale sharply. You can give him some space tonight and just talk it out on the way to school tomorrow. And it’s not like you didn’t expect him to be mad at you. It just hurt a lot more than you thought it would.
“I’ll see you tomorrow!” you yell at his disappearing figure.
It stings, sure. But still. It’s something you feel like you need to do, because you don’t like Choi Beomgyu, and all the things he’s cost you.
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#1: YOU DON’T LIKE HIM FOR WASTING SO MUCH OF YOUR TIME. You’re pretty sure at least three years of your lifespan has wilted away into nothingness because of how long it takes for him to answer the door. It takes two rounds of incessant knocking and a yell of his name. Even then, his mom is more likely to answer than the fucker himself.
He’s been like that ever since. Though you can’t exactly pinpoint when that ever since begins— you can’t remember how you met him because his stupid face has always been present in all of your earliest memories.
(Knock, knock, knock!
“Choi Beomgyu!”
Knock, knock, knock!
“Open the door!”
Classes ended early today, and your teachers at the academy are having a seminar so you don’t have to go there today. This was a rare opportunity in your life as a middle schooler— where every day runs from waking up, to eating, to studying, to eating, to studying again, studying some more, and wanting to quit studying. Today you had free time, and you’re going to spend it wisely.
At least that was the plan. But then Beomgyu called your landline while you were watching TV, saying that he had “something super, duper, insanely cool to show you and you’ll regret it if you don’t come over.” 
It’s probably something lame.
You hurried over to the unit right across yours.
But like usual, it took a good five minutes until you heard Beomgyu’s hurried footsteps padding louder and closer and closer. He didn’t give you an opportunity to be annoyed by him— he quickly tugged you into his home and shut the door lock with a kick, running into and out of the living room like it was a racing track, and before you knew it, you were in his room and he was all giddy and excited and it served as a sign that he was up to no good.
“You’re being suspicious,” you leered at him as he dug through his school bag, already taking the liberty to plop down on his bed. “What’s that?”
There was a proud grin on his face when he pulled it out and showed it off to you. You weren’t as impressed. In fact, you were terrified. 
Specifically because of the 18+ label on the CD container he’s holding.
“Why do you have that?!” you screeched. “Holy crap. You idiot. Are you trying to get us into trouble?!”
“We won’t get in trouble as long as you stop freaking out like a little wuss,” he reasoned, already slotting the forbidden CD into his conveniently placed laptop right at the foot of the bed.
Your houses shared an internet line, and most websites have been blocked as per both your parents’ request so it “doesn’t get in the way of your studying,” they say. You thought it was crap. Beomgyu thought  it was crap. So you’d been trying to find ways to subvert that restriction by whatever means you can get your hands on (i.e. going to PC rooms and getting dragged back home by your parents).
But that didn’t mean you were fine with watching a movie you legally weren’t allowed to watch.
This was absurd.
“Yeonjun hyung lent it to me. Hey, stop overreacting. You said you wanted to watch this and wouldn’t quit whining about it the past two weeks. I’m doing you a favor!”
“We’re not allowed to watch this! If our parents find out, they’re gonna—” You made the mistake of letting your eyes wander to the laptop screen. It’s all blood and guts and gore from the very beginning. You were taken. “Whoa. Move over.”
Beomgyu was grinning at his success. The equally bloody CD container found itself tucked underneath his bed, and before you knew it you were both hiding under the blankets, sharing a pair of earphones because there’s too much screaming and squelching from the off-brand slasher film your friend smuggled from a sketchy high schooler. Maybe that was just the right amount of screaming. You wouldn’t know. You’ve never watched anything like this before.)
To be frank, you don’t remember much about the film. You do remember nearly pissing yourself in fear and screaming along to the cries of agony whenever someone was killed on screen. Beomgyu was unfazed though— that freak. How was he not pissing himself when a severed limb flew into the frame?
But he wasn’t as calm when his brother came home early, and your constant screams of terror elicited understandable concern. (“Shut up! You’re going to get us caught,” he hissed, trying to smack his palm over your mouth but you’re already burying your face into his comforter and blindly shoving him off).
Long story short, you both got caught and got grounded for a week.
So much for having free time.
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“Congrats on finishing your last exam!”
You grunt, shoving past Heeseung as you exit the classroom, a stack of scratch papers pressed to your chest. He trails behind you with an evident bounce in his step. You’d be just as excited had you not been brutally murdered by midterms week. It’s only your third month of university and you’re already ready to drop out. Why is this normalized? This is structural, systemic violence.
“Jieun and the rest are planning a night out tomorrow,” he mentions. “You coming?”
“No. I’m going to sleep for forty-eight hours and die.”
He tells you you’re no fun and you flip him off. Three months have passed and you feel like you’ve aged thirty years, but Heeseung is still fucking energetic and you’re sure it’s because the girl from computer science he’d been flirting with for the past two weeks finally agreed to go on a date with him. The stupid grin on his face as he’s typing on his phone is annoying you to no end. “What?” he asks, looking up from his phone, still all smiley and irksome. 
“You’re insufferable,” you deadpan. His expression morphs into confusion, then realization, then pity, then circles back into being incredibly annoying again. 
“If you beg, I can set you up with one of my friends.”
“Eat ass.” 
You smack the top of his head with the stack of papers. He is unfazed. “I know a few guys! C’mon! Instead of being bitter, why don’t I help you out? I don’t do this for everyone, you know. I’m only offering because you’re my friend.”
Well, the past three months haven’t been entirely bad. Your freshman batch was fairly easy to get along with— Heeseung specifically, whom you hit off with during the orientation. You’ve also been doing pretty well with all of your classes despite the back-breaking workload. And now that midterms are over, your uni has this policy to cancel classes for a whole week after every major exam (for the students’ “mental health” they say), so now you have the chance to finally fucking rest.
“Beomgyu!”
You flinch upon hearing Heeseung yell out his name. You can’t get used to it.
The space next to you becomes empty as Heeseung excuses himself for a moment to join Beomgyu and the little group he’s appeared with. You take the opportunity to shove the scratch papers you have into your bag, taking a few glimpses here and there— regretting doing that when Beomgyu happens to meet your gaze at one point, and you quickly avert your eyes to the posters on bulletin boards stuck on the hallway wall. E-Sports Fest 2023. Sign up for your respective departments now! 
“Later,” Heeseung waves them off and runs back to you. “Hey. We’re fucked. Beomgyu’s playing in like half of the games next, next week. The ICT fuckers have practically won already. This is too much of a skill gap. This isn’t fair.”
You give him a look. “Okay?”
Heeseung pouts. “At least pretend like you’re interested. Jeongin said yes, but I still have to get Chenle onboard so we can at least get second place, but he says he doesn’t wanna waste our short break so— hey, are you listening?”
No, you’re not. Because you met eyes with Choi Beomgyu once more before he left with his friends, and even if it’s been three months since you’ve last talked to him, there’s still a weird feeling in your gut every time you happen to cross paths.
It’s been easy for him to keep his promise. The both of you have different majors, and though you two share a few mutual friends, Heeseung doesn’t know shit about your history, and nobody seems to suspect anything. 
Still. You can’t completely avoid him. Not when you two are literally still neighbors. 
The both of you moved out since your campus is a two hour commute from your homes, but you also moved into the same apartment building in the city as per your parents’ request. (“Now, I’m more at ease knowing you’re still living next to her, Beomgyu,” your mother remarked the day his dad drove you both to your new building). Your mom didn’t know how not at ease you are with him still floating around you with a seeming permanence, especially after what happened in the playground that night. 
“Anyway, I have to go,” Heeseung tells you, probably off to meet the compsci girl he refuses to tell you the name and identity of. You fear she may be one of your friends. “How about you?”
“Off to have lunch with Sungchan and Minjeong,” you hum. “Have fun. Don’t come crying to me when you eventually get your heart broken.”
“You’re just bitter. Don’t worry. I’ll get you a date to save you from your misery.”
“Go to hell.”
“See you.”
The both of you part ways, and you meet up with the aforementioned two at the campus cafeteria because fast food is outside of your budget after splurging all your allowance on caffeine and energy drinks this week. Your two friends seem to have also been hard fucked by midterms. Lunch was filled with quiet complaints and you immediately took the first bus home after eating.
“You stopped by?” you speak into your phone, wedging the device between your cheek and shoulder as you punch in the code to your unit’s door. “You should’ve told me. I could’ve come home earlier.”
“It’s alright. I just left you some side dishes for the week. They’re in the fridge. Who knows what kind of junk you’re putting into your body without me on the watch.”
“I am eating perfectly well!” you exclaim, shutting your door with a click. You love your mom and her food but she’s as protective as ever. “I just got home. I’ll send photo evidence of me enjoying your kimchi, madam.”
You hear her laugh a little at the end of the line, and you hum out a smile. “I’m hanging up. You must be tired so get some rest.”
“Yeah, alright.” Upon entering the living room, you can see the familiar, reusable blue shopping bag on the open kitchen counter, its unreasonably gigantic size taking up too much of the space. You narrow your eyes and walk towards it. When you take a peek inside, there are still full containers and tupperwares. The rolled omelets look particularly good. “I thought you put them in the fridge,” you say. Without waiting for your mother’s response, you’ve already produced a pair of chopsticks and have pried a box open, stuffing a roll inside your mouth.
“Oh, those are for Beomgyu.” 
The eggs suddenly taste like sand.
“He mentioned on call last time that he was missing some of my home cooked dishes. Why haven’t you been sharing with him? Greedy child. Anyway, drop them off at his place later when he gets back. He wasn’t around when I visited earlier. Okay?”
First of all, why does your mother keep calling Choi Beomgyu behind your back? Second of all, the guilt of eating what is supposed to be Beomgyu’s food shot your appetite back down into oblivion, so you quickly close the container and stuff it back into the bag in a zip. “Okay. I’ll do that.” You throw the chopsticks into the sink. He isn’t gonna notice that one omelet is missing, right?” “Bye.”
“Come back home during your break.”
Then again. Why do you have to waste this perfectly good food on a guy like him?
The line ends. You fall to the floor with an anguished cry. “Ugh,” you groan, forehead hitting the counter body a few too many times that a bruise could form. “The bastard might snitch on me if I don’t do it. Fuck. Fine.”
You feel like a reanimated corpse when you force yourself back on your feet, a series of grunts as you begrudgingly lug the large bag of side dishes that won’t even end up in your stomach. This is fine, you exhale. You can do this. You’re gonna knock on the door, throw the bag to his face, and say goodbye without talking. This is fine. This is easy. 
But with Beomgyu, it’s never easy. The simplicity of the act ends after you’ve left your unit. What came after was the short, dreadful walk across the hallway because shit— in the past three months you’ve moved here, you have never actually gone up to his door. 
Knock, knock, knock.
No answer.
Knock, knock, knock.
Still no answer. This bastard never fucking grows.
“Choi Beomgyu!” Your light knocks quickly transition to a heavy banging. “Choi Beomgyu, open up—”
There’s a click and a creak. Your knuckles don’t land on the familiar hardwood— they land on his chest because the momentum made you keep knocking even after he’d opened the door. “Oh,” he flatly starts. A brow raised and arms crossed, he leans against the door frame and looks at you like you’re an unwelcome guest. “What do we have here?”
He’s insufferable. He’s totally insufferable.
“Who are you again?”
“Cut the crap, Beomgyu,” you grunt, absolutely not in the mood for this. You know that it’s a pretty shitty thing for you to ask him to pretend to be strangers. You really do, so you didn’t hold it against him for being mad at you at first. He’s been doing his end, sure, but you don’t remember him acting like a big fucking bitch to you in private as a part of the deal. 
You thought his anger would subside after three days. It’s been three months and at this point you’re convinced that this relationship is now irreparable, and neither of you are making the effort to resuscitate it. “You’re the one who came to my door. Why are you swearing at me?” he huffs. You grit your teeth, shoving the bag to him and his act of arrogance falters from surprise. You don’t miss how his eyes widen and how his scrunched up brows suddenly disappear under the messy bangs he’s decided to grow out.
“Here. I’ll take back the containers next week. Make sure you’ve washed them by then. Goodbye.”
That, in fact, wasn’t a good bye because you stomp back into your unit without giving him a second look. 
Dammit, dammit, dammit it all. The door is cold against your back when you retreat inside. You hate him. You really do. This would’ve been easier if your lives weren’t so irrevocably tangled— messed up in all sorts of knots and ties that even a fucking boyscout can’t tear it apart. 
You left your phone on the counter when you left and you can see it buzzing and lighting up. There’s a few messages. Hi, dear. How have you been? It’s from his mother. There is no escape to this. Absolutely none.
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#2: YOU DON’T LIKE HIM FOR FORCING YOU TO SWALLOW SO MUCH OF YOUR PRIDE. Somehow, he’s always there at the lowest points of your life— moments where you wouldn’t even want any of your family to see you, but he’s there. He always is, and you’d always wish to evaporate along with the rain. 
Maybe he has a signal whenever you’re on the verge of doing something stupid. Or losing face. Or being absolutely dumped. Or all of the above at the same time. Maybe he’s there on purpose so he can have one more thing on his belt of things to hold against you.
(“I like you.”
The words squeezed out of your throat like a choke, more than anything. Maybe it was because of the fact that you sounded so pathetic that Jiwoong couldn’t even reject you properly. Maybe if he were to be frank, he was afraid that you’d end up crying.
“Um, there’s...there’s somewhere I have to be for a moment. You don’t mind waiting for a bit, right?”
But it wasn’t you that ended up in tears. It was the sky. You weren’t sure how long you’d been waiting, frozen still in an abandoned corner behind the school where your pink-stained note had asked him to come— him, your desk partner for the semester that you’d been unfortunately struck by— but it was long enough for the afternoon sky to be inked by gray clouds. Long enough for it to start pouring in on your behalf.
You sniffled. Ah, shit. This is stupid. You said you weren’t going to cry but fuck, your eyes suddenly started to sting, and you’re looking up at the clouds because gravity might help in preventing them from falling, but all it did was pool saltwater in your tearducts and now they’ve overflown, mixing into the raindrops cascading down your face.
“Until when are you going to keep standing there like an idiot?”
Instead of the gray, pouring sky, your vision is cloaked by a jarring electric blue. It was the same obnoxious color as the umbrella Beomgyu brings around. Then again— that was just his voice, too. Your cheeks started burning. That was enough to bring you back to your senses. “Did—did you see—”
“Let’s go home.”
It was one thing to be caught crying by your friend-slash-neighbor-slash-annoyance. It was another thing to be caught getting rejected by him. That was double the shame and embarrassment soiled. But Beomgyu hasn’t made a mention of it throughout your walk back to the building, much to your relief and suspicion. This man would make fun of you to the ends of high hell just for keeping a plushie to bed until you were thirteen— you weren’t sure when he started developing the emotional intelligence to stay in the comfort of silence throughout your walk home.
Of course, you didn’t expect him to hold his tongue for too long. It was an empty road, and the rain was still pouring. Beomgyu held up his umbrella above your head, and started with a low voice, “Want me to beat him up?”
Your steps lagged, faltering a little in mild surprise. “You?” An invisible force started tugging on the corners of your lips. “With your lanky ass and noodle arms? Keep dreaming, loser.”
“Hey—” You had to hold back a snort when you saw his face, an evident look of unbridled offense taking over, and he stopped in his tracks just to passionately defend himself. “You take that back. I’m strong. I’m pretty sure I can lift you up with just one arm. I can beat the shit out of Jiwoong if I wanted to.”
“Sure,” you snickered. “That is if you want to end up in the hospital. You’re all skin and bones, Beomgyu. You’re weak as hell. Remember the last time we arm wrestled? I’m pretty sure it ended up with me as the winner, and you as the— eep!”
You yelped, eyes widening. Suddenly, the ground wasn’t touching your feet anymore, you could feel the rain on your skin, and the bright, blue umbrella was now on the ground. You can see nothing but the fabric of Beomgyu’s dark and drenched uniform blazer and glimpses of the upside down pavement. Your face started to heat up. You could feel his firm grip around your waist and legs.
“That was in sixth grade, doofus. Keep up,” he snorted. 
“What the hell? Put me down!” you let out a grunt and tried to wiggle yourself free, but he’s unyielding— continuing the walk back home while carrying you like a sack of potatoes. “If you don’t put me down, I am going to bite you.”
“Nuh-uh.” The bastard gave your body a rough shake as a warning, and you screamed. “Not until you take back what you said earlier.” You balled your hands into a fist and hit his back. “Wow, you’re so ungrateful. I’m giving you a free ride home yet you decide to assault me. Your mother will be so disappointed when she hears this.”
“Your mother will shave your head if she finds out your haircut received a warning this morning.”
“Oooo—kay. Down you go. Ride over.” The moment Beomgyu settled you back on the ground, you gave him the nastiest glare you could muster. He gave you a grin. “Your hair is a mess.”
“Whose fault is it?” you sneer.
“Jiwoong’s,” he answered, matting down the top of your head with his hands. You winced when his fingers got caught between the wet, tangled strands. Beomgyu’s lips pursed as he tried to unravel them, brows furrowed in concentration. “I’m uninviting him to our game night tomorrow. He can eat shit.”
“He’s gonna talk shit if you do that,” you replied.
“Who cares.” He was finished tinkering with your hair. It was still pouring. “Done. Let’s go home.” You didn’t know if he made it better or worse.
“Okay,” you replied, feeling the top of your head. “But your umbrella ran away. Idiot.”
“Does it matter?” his lips quirked. “We’re already drenched, anyway.”)
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The ice in your service water has already melted. You are going to kill a man named Lee Heeseung.
Why isn’t this motherfucker answering your calls? You let out a mental swear. It’s the second Saturday of your one-week break after midterms, and Heeseung organized a blind date for you and his friend today. The problem is, that said friend is nowhere to be seen. The customers next to your table have already changed thrice already. You’re not pathetic. You’re not gonna wait for him.
Right when you muster the willpower to get up, Heeseung finally answers your call. He’s quick to overtake your possible threats by immediately rambling, “Okay. Before you get mad—”
“You’re dead to me.”
“I’m sorry!” he screams-slash-pleads. “Eunseok canceled at the last minute because of this thing with his— nevermind. That’s not important. I’m gonna kick his ass the next time I see him, but please tell me you haven’t left the cafe yet.”
You bite your bottom lip. You want to lie. You want to tell him that you’ve already left thirty minutes ago and are now in your apartment with cozy pajamas and a cucumber face mask. “I’m around the area,” you reply. “Why?”
“Oh, good. Great.”
This is brow raising. The bell above the door entrance rings, catching your attention and you look up. “Why?”
“You’re still going on a date,” he tells you. “I promise you, your time definitely won’t be wasted—”
Heeseung’s voice disappears into the background. Entering the cafe is the person you want to see the least. He’s wearing the hooded sweater you got him for Christmas last year, and around his neck are the headphones you got him for his birthday.
“—so I called another friend. Don’t think of him as just a second option, okay?! I think he’s more your type anyway, and—”
He’s looking around. He still hasn’t noticed you. He’s standing in the middle of the shop and he pulls out his phone. 
“—and he’s headed there right— oh! He says he’s there already!”
Beomgyu has spotted you and you want to kill yourself. Your head drops down and you bite down a scream of agony and despair. “You’ve heard of Choi Beomgyu, right? From BSEMC? I’ve mentioned him a few times. Haha. Anyway. I hope you enjoy your da—”
“Heeseung told me his friend got stood up and needed a backup.” He’s now in front of you. He’s looking down at you from behind the opposite chair. “I didn’t expect that that friend would be you.”
You’re going to kill yourself after you kill Heeseung. Better yet, why not murder Beomgyu as well so you can all rot in bloody fucking hell? 
“Hello?”
“Shut up,” you grunt, trying your best to subtly hide the burning embarrassment on your face without making it obvious that your pride is now in perfectly tattered shambles. Of all people, why him? Why? For the love of god, why? “Just leave. I doubt you even want to be here. Let’s just spare each other the headache, alright?”
Beomgyu stifles a scoff. You watch as his knuckles flex while clutching the back of the chair. “I canceled a game for this.” He pulls it back and plops down on the seat like a petulant child. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Your face contorts into an unabashed grimace. You take your bag and stand up. “Okay. Then, I’m leaving.” 
“You could’ve left an hour ago.”
Pause. He looks up at you, arms crossed and confident. Your upper lip twitches. You sit back down. Heeseung has already died twice in your head.
“I guess even someone as heartless as you is desperate for a little romance,” he hums, leaning back against his seat and completely at ease— a stark contrast to your end of the table: hot and bothered for all the wrong, not very sexy reasons. You’re trying to feign calmness, but the sweat dripping down your forehead from the heat of shame is ratting you out. This is the worst. This is the absolute worst.
You’re only able to breathe again when Beomgyu gets up to order something. Maybe you should order something too because your throat is as dry as bone. He returns not long after with a tray in hand. He settles it down on the table, revealing two glasses of iced tea and a plate of matcha tiramisu.
“Quit sulking,” he says. “You’re ugly when you sulk.”
With one hand, you flip him off. With the other, you use to grab one of the forks and dig into the dessert. Beomgyu mirrors your actions (minus the middle finger part), and grimaces after a spoonful lands in his mouth. “How are you eating this?” You hover a hand over your lips, pressing down a laugh. “It tastes like grass. Are you a cow? Is that it?”
Offended, you pull the plate closer to you. “Then why did you buy matcha if you’re just gonna insult it?”
“Because you like it.” Beomgyu reaches an arm over to get another bite, gags, then continues to try again. “Your tastebuds are really fucking weird. You should get them checked. I think they’re broken.”
You settle with an eye roll before taking a sip from the iced tea. This is odd. This feels like you’ve been transported back into time prior to your three-month long cold war. Choi Beomgyu is sitting in front of you and tapping on his phone laid on the table, and you’re sitting in front of him enjoying a nice piece of dessert he bought. There’s an odd cacophony inside your stomach— like butterflies and glass shards fluttering and cracking in a single enclosed space. 
“I heard you’ll be playing for the E-Sports Fest next week,” you mention, trying to dig a deeper hole into this crack that managed to resurface. Beomgyu gives you a weird, insinuating look in response. “Shut your face. I just keep hearing your name being mentioned. Heeseung is obsessed with you, I think.”
“Why are you asking?” he snorts, passing you a napkin. “You want to cheer for me?”
“Ew. Why would I?” you reply, blindly wiping at the corner of your mouth. “We’re not even from the same department.”
Beomgyu’s eyebrows knit together, trained on the lower half of your face. “Tch. Then why even bring it up, you—”
Time stops. For some reason, Beomgyu has reached his arm over the table and is now touching your face, thumb pressed against the side of your lip with a napkin, the opposite side of where you were trying to wipe off. 
Your eyes meet. It gets warm.
“Sorry,” he coughs out, retracting his hand to wipe the green-dusted cream off his fingers. Now, you know all of Choi Beomgyu’s tells like the back of your hand— and he’s not hiding those blushing ears from anyone. You’ve caught him. You knew his son of a bitch act was gonna crumble at some point (no, you didn’t. You thought he was gonna stay mad at you forever so now your heart is racing in glee). “If you’re done, let’s go. Come pick up your mom’s containers from my place.”
“Oh,” you breathe out. “Right.”
“I washed them.”
“Congratulations.”
He sneers. “Get up. I’m leaving you.”
The one thing you regret about making the deal with Beomgyu is missing out the opportunity of taking advantage of him and the car his parents’ gifted for graduation. Seriously. Had you known he’d be driving a private vehicle to and from campus everyday, you might have never asked for that favor in the first place. Those three months worth of bus fares could’ve been spent on your daily doses of coffee instead.
“Seatbelt,” he reminds while pulling out of the driveway. You’re mildly impressed and your face isn’t hiding it, and neither is the bashful tint on the tips of his ears. “Quit staring, you weirdo.”
“You can be kind of cool after all.” You give him a thumbs up. He grunts, and now you’re on the road back to your apartment.
It’s a quiet drive— the hum of the engine filling the early evening silence. You steal a few glances here and there, sneaking a few peeks at a new side of your friend(?) that you’ve never witnessed before. Since when was he so good at driving? He’s got only one hand on the steering wheel. It’s weird, you think. You’ve known everything about him for as long as you can remember, and finding out something new for the first time in a while— and not being the first one to find out about it— is making odd twists and turns inside your gut.
When you reach the apartment building, it’s still quiet. And when you ride up the elevator all the way to your floor, walking up the space between both of your doors, silence still permeates the walls and it makes you wonder— has it ever been this quiet between you two? 
“I’ll go get the stuff. Stay here.”
You’re left behind with your messy thoughts in the hallway and before things can get even more tangled up, Beomgyu shows up again with the bright blue shopping bag you dropped off last week. “Tell the madam that her seasoned spinach is perfect as usual.” He returns the bag, a faint smile on his face.
“Go tell her that yourself,” you huff, retrieving it from him. “I’m pretty sure she calls you more often than she calls me.” The tupperwares and containers look clean. You should give him a treat for doing a good job.
“Your mother is constantly worried about her young, impressionable daughter taking her first steps of independence, but doesn’t want to be called overbearing by her only child, so she asks me about you instead.” Beomgyu’s tone is nagging. You shoot him a glare and he simply steps closer to jab a finger into your forehead. “You have no idea how hard it is to make up bullshit about what you’ve been up to. You owe me a lot, dipshit.”
You wince, smacking his hand away. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 
The corners of his mouth twitch. His eyes leer away for a moment, and he lets out a huff of air through his nose. “Why? Do I know you?”
Oh god. Here he goes again.
“Why do you keep—” You stop, squeezing your eyes and taking in a deep inhale because for a moment there, you were just about to yell again. “Okay,” you restart. You should do something about your temper. “Okay. I apologize for troubling you, and I’ll tell her to quit bothering you, so—”
It was going well. It was going so well. Only if you had missed the very subtle, very irritating roll of his eyes upon your remark. 
“—so you should quit being an absolute dickhead too, asshole!”
Then maybe you could’ve lived in happy ignorance, and all your progress today wouldn’t have to restart.
“Oh, so I’m the asshole?” he scoffs, incredulous. “You’re the one who told me to distance myself. You’re the one who asked. I’m just doing what you told me to do. Why am I in the wrong?” Your throat tightens, a familiar choke the moment you try to swallow. 
“I never asked you to stop being friends with me, Beomgyu! I just—”
Asked you to keep our friendship hidden because I’m selfish. Because I’m insecure. Because I hate you just as much as you mean the world to me. 
But you can’t tell him any of these things, can’t you?
His disappointment is clear from the look on his face. Beomgyu lets his fingers rake through his hair with a sigh. “Just go home. Thanks for the food.”
There’s something twisting inside your stomach, churning at an uncomfortable pace. It’s gnawing and grating. You’re only able to pinpoint it when Beomgyu turns back to his apartment, prompted by the resounding click of his door lock.
Ah, you realize amid the silence of the now empty hallway. It’s guilt.
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#3: YOU DON’T LIKE HOW MUCH OF YOUR IDENTITY HE’S STRIPPED AWAY. You know it’s not on purpose. You know he doesn’t know. But it’s something that’s plagued you until your last few weeks of high school— the time for last chances, and final opportunities. It’s for this reason that you can’t stand him the most.
(“Hey!”
It was an unfamiliar voice that called out your name from behind you in the hallway, so you ignored it assuming that maybe they were calling someone else. It gets repeated, and you stop in front of your locker to retrieve your shoes, paying no mind to it. You’re going home alone today because Beomgyu’s out with his guy friends. “We’re having dinner together at my house later! Don’t forget!” was the last thing he yelled at you before running off. An unconscious smile crawls onto your face at the thought of it.
You felt a tap on your shoulder and heard the same voice that’d been repeating your name. You spin around, and are a little surprised to see the group standing behind you. “Hi!” 
It was Haena, one of your classmates, and she was joined with two more of the girls from your class, and one that you didn’t quite recognize. 
“Oh, sorry,” you bowed a little. “I didn’t know I was the one you were calling. I wasn’t trying to ignore you, sorry.” Your surprise stemmed from the fact that you weren’t really close with Haena or her friends. Not that you were on bad terms. You greeted each other from time to time, but your friend circle really just consisted of Choi Beomgyu, your deskmate Chaeryeong, and Ryunjin from the broadcasting club.
“It’s alright,” she smiled. “Do you…maybe have any plans today?”
You pulled out your shoes from the locker and closed it tightly. “No, not really.”
“Great! There’s a new cafe that opened near the school. Wanna join us?”
Well. This was unexpected. You didn’t have any other plans besides the joint family dinner you had with the Choi’s, so going on a cafe detour wouldn’t hurt. Beomgyu was also out with his other friends right now. Who says you couldn’t do the same? “Sure,” you replied. “I’ll join.”
It was a cute, cat-themed cafe with the only disappointment being that there were no actual cats— just the cat-shaped whipped cream on your strawberry drink, and the cat-shaped tiramisu on your plate. Cats weren’t usually green or pink, but you digress.
The girls were friendly. Conversation ranged from the universities you’ll all be attending, the classes you’re all about to finish, sprinkled with topics on shopping and clothes and the names of the rest of your classmates here and there. You’d started to zone out after a good while, stirring the contents of your half-empty drink as you stared at the glass windows, tinted orange by the sunset sky.
Haena cleared her throat. “So,” she started. You turned your attention back to your companions, and your eyes widened a little when you were met with all their eyes on you. Haena pronounced your name. “I’ve always been curious about something.”
You blinked. “About what?”
She leaned closer, a smile playing on her lips. “Are you and Beomgyu dating?”
You nearly choked on the sweet, strawberry drink. “What? No!” 
“Really?” Seohyun nudged herself closer next to you on the seat.
“Everyone thinks you’re dating him,” said Bora. “You’re always together.”
“Ah, that’s ridiculous! I’m really not dating him!” Your face has started to warm up. Gosh, what was this? What kind of situation was this? A few of them weren’t convinced, you could tell. You pressed your lips together before breathing out, “We’ve known each other since we were like toddlers. There’s no way in hell I’d be dating him. I don’t know where you're getting all these assumptions from.”
There was a glint in Haena’s eyes that you didn’t fail to notice.
“So, you don’t have any feelings for him?” This was getting weird.
“No. No, I don’t.” And even if you did, what the hell would they be interrogating you about it?
Haena visibly brightened. “Really? Then can you set me up with him?”
You were dumbfounded.
“I’m— I’m sorry?”
Things started to click. Senior high school was almost over, and your classmates whom you’ve barely even shared a conversation with for the past three years, were taking their last chance to start something with their crushes, or some shit, under the guise of half-hearted friendliness. You’ve understood now— and you’re nothing less than offended.
“Actually, I’ve liked Beomgyu for a while now,” Haena bashfully admitted. Seohyun inserted that her friend has had a crush on him since the beginning of the year. “I thought there was something going on between the two of you so I never acted on it. But I’m so happy to hear that you two are just friends!”
You shouldn’t be annoyed. But you were. You were very annoyed.
“You’ll help me right?”
Needless to say, you went home that day with your cat tiramisu in a paper box as takeout. The next morning, the three girls greeted your classroom entrance with unabashed glares. You paid no mind and headed over to your seat at the back, where an out of place box of chocolate milk was gingerly resting on the table.
You were mildly suspicious that Choi Beomgyu was the one who put that there, so you held it in your hands with caution, examining the box closer when you took a seat. 
The alleged perpetrator suddenly showed up from behind you. Your head felt heavier. Beomgyu was resting his arms on the top of your head, leaning down all of his weight onto you. “Oh wow,” he started. “Looks like someone has a secret admirer.”
You elbowed him and he let out a sharp yelp. You could see Haena giving you dirty looks from afar. “Go back to your seat,” you scolded him. “Class is starting soon.” Beomgyu listens to you well, but not after messing up your hair even further and greeting Seungmin who had just walked in.
“Are we still going after class?”
Choi Beomgyu was always surrounded by people. This was something you noticed a few months into your second year of middle school. He was like a lamp, flocked by so many buzzing insects in the night— just like right now, his face barely visible from inside the crowd at the middle of the classroom where his seat was. Even your seating assignments placed him at the center. That’s just where he’s meant to be.
“Hey, did you and Haena get into a fight?” 
You looked up to see Chaeryeong barely arriving in time before the bell, pulling her seat back and plopping down right next to you.
“Don’t mind it.” You sunk your face into your arms on the desk, elbow grazing the still unopened chocolate milk on the line dividing yours and your friend’s desk. “Hey,” you let your face peek out a little from your makeshift cocoon. “From an outsider’s perspective...do Beomgyu and I give the impression that we’re, um, dating?”
She snorted. “Haven’t your parents arranged your marriage, already?”
“This is a serious question!”
Honestly, this has never crossed your mind. Not until Haena mentioned it yesterday. It took a while for things to click inside your brain, but if this misunderstanding was really not singular, then that would really explain why you have never received any confession, any valentine’s day chocolate, or love letter, or anything for the past three years of highschool. It was all Beomgyu’s fault. He’s been unknowingly sabotaging your love life and if you end up sad and dying alone, it’s all on him.
Well, I guess it’s not completely ruined. Your cheeks pressed against your arms, looking at the milk carton on your desk. 
When you got up to your desk the next morning, there was another milk carton on your table.
“Hey.”
You looked up to see Seungmin hovering in front of your table. “What?”
“Not even a good morning? Beomgyu was right. You do have an attitude.” You rolled your eyes and stuffed the drink into your bag, and Seungmin decided to keep talking. “Anyway, where is he? You two usually arrive at the same time.”
“He slept through his alarm,” you replied. Then you furrowed your brows. “Why are you asking me? Couldn’t you just text him?”
“Well, it would be quicker to just ask you. Anyway, thanks.”
With that, he left. The bell rang, and your teacher arrived. You decide to save the drink until lunch time and when you got back to the classroom from the cafeteria, there was another snack on your table. For the next following days, you would find snacks suddenly spawning on your table. It was starting to get curious.
“Whoa. Holy crap. Someone might actually have a crush on you.”
It was now Friday, the end of the week, and you have accumulated a total of four milk boxes, three melon breads, and one pack of cookies all throughout. You and Beomgyu were staring down at the latest addition: a grape juice box and a packet of chocopie. He started muttering, “Does your admirer know that you snore when you—”
You gave him a kick. Beomgyu matched it with a harsh pull on your bag. He quickly ran away before you could retaliate, the rest of his body having already left, and his head peeking from the door to give you one last message.
“I’m going first! We have a raid in a while. What time is dinner later?”
“I’ll message you.”
“Alright,” he hummed. “See you. Text me if something comes up.”
This must be why people think you were dating. You were tired of it. When you were younger, people paid no mind to how much time and space you two were spending together— now that you’ve gotten a little older, maybe some things couldn’t be perceived as platonic forever.
But you don’t have any feelings for him, and neither does he for you. The only feeling you have for him is a penetrating sense of irritation. You mulled it over as you left the school building, clutching your bag straps as you walked. However, you paused upon seeing a familiar face standing at the edge of the entrance stairs. He looked like he was waiting for someone. 
“Oh! Um,” he suddenly exclaimed upon noticing your approaching presence. A cough stifled out from his throat, followed by a nervous smile. “Hi.”
It was Lim Jimin, one of your classmates and one of the boys that were usually rallying up every afternoon after class to the internet cafe with Beomgyu and Seungmin like a bunch of nerds. “Hey?” you greet back. “Didn’t you guys have a raid or something today? I think they already left.”
“No, I uh, I stayed behind,” he mumbled. “Can we talk for a bit?”
The chocolate milk carton he was holding had not gone unnoticed by you. Your narrowed eyes flitted over to his fidgeting fingers. His nerves were spilling right out. “Have you been the one leaving food on my desk?”
He flinched. “Yeah— well—” A smile curled on your lips. “Damn, this is a little embarrassing. Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you hummed. “I enjoyed them. Thanks.”
There was a tinge of pink on his cheeks, a sheepish hand on the back of his neck and it looked as if he was running through a million thoughts in his head at once. “I’ve...I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” he finally started after a moment’s silence. “Can you do me a favor?”
Your heart jumped. Holy shit. This is happening, this is actually happening. 
“Y—yeah?”
Your breath hitched inside your throat. Oh my god. You might actually end your curse of lovelessness today. Oh my fucking god.
“Can you convince Beomgyu to help me get to Platinum in League?”
What?
“I—I know this sounds dumb, and it’s kinda pathetic that I had to bribe you with snacks just to get to this— but he’s been refusing to help any of us because he leaves after like three games!” Jimin exclaimed, and, upon noticing the flat look on your face, quickly gathered himself back together. “Ahem. I thought…maybe you could convince him since you’re like, his girlfriend and all.”
Your brain was a loading screen. You blinked but saw nothing but red. Beomgyu goes home after three games because you guys eat dinner at six in the evening. Jimin was giving you food as a bribe. You were not getting a confession.
All at once, the blood rose to your face,
“W-wait— is that a yes? Are you gonna ask him—”
Your shame couldn’t keep you standing there like an idiot for any longer. Every hurried step you took was a testament of your misery, and you left behind in your wake a fucking wave of turmoil and embarrassment. Fuck, your cheeks were burning. Fuck, why did Beomgyu have to entertain that idea and muddled your brain.
“Oh, you’re home?” your mother greeted the moment you kicked open your apartment door and started stomping to your room. “Where’s Beomgyu? Why didn’t you come home toge—”
“Ugh!” you groaned. “Enough about him, please!”
Did you only exist as an extension of him? As a part of him? As Choi Beomgyu’s friend, girlfriend, whatever, as the girl who’s always been around him for the past seventeen years to the point where that was all you’re known for?
You were fucking sick of it.
Your mom was scolding you for yelling at her, but you were far into your emotions to stay behind and say sorry. Your bag was left on the living room floor, and you were once again stomping out of your apartment unit, only to bump your face into Choi Beomgyu. “Whoa,” he remarked, quickly grabbing onto your shoulders. “Where are you going?”
“Out.” You shoved yourself off him.
“Someone’s cranky,” he mused, trailing behind you as you continued bulldozing down the hallway, down the stairs, out the building and on the dim and chalky path towards the playground. Beomgyu kept chattering. “What’s up? Why are you mad? Did you leave something behind in the classroom? Okay, you aren’t talking to me. That’s fine. I was gonna ask you what flowers you wanted for our graduation ceremony, but I guess I’ll just pick and choose whatever I—”
Smack!
You’ve spun around. You’ve got his face smacked in between your palms, promptly shutting him up. His eyes flew open, mouth firmly and tightly closed. “Can you stop talking for a second?” you guttered out.
Beomgyu stared at you, eyes still wide, then nodded once, still sandwiched between your palms. You bit down your bottom lip. Your ribcage was starting to squeeze in on itself. “Sorry,” you mumbled, arms falling back to your sides and you resumed your march towards the playground. 
He stayed silent for the rest of the time, following you on the see-saws and the both of you exchanged ups and downs for a few moments— quiet moments— until you were the one to break it.
“Hey, fuckface,” you called out,
“What do you want, dipshit?” he replied.
“Remember when I hauled your ass to the emergency room after you broke your leg at the skatepark in 9th grade?”)
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YOUR MORNING STARTED OFF NICELY. It’s the first day back to uni after your one week break. You woke up before your alarm and had the time to make a really stir-fried rice meal for breakfast (your first breakfast in a week, mind you). Your clothes are fresh from the dryer, mascara unclumpy, and you arrive at the bus stop at the same time as your bus to campus arrives, right on the dot. 
Today is going great. That is until Heeseung shows up at the library after sending you a text that he’s on the way, and ruins everything with one, single statement.
“Did you sleep with Beomgyu the other night?”
The orange juice you’re drinking nearly dribbles out of your mouth.
“What the fuck?”
Your voice is louder than you thought. Heeseung shushes you and sits and pulls out the seat next to yours, ready to explain. “The guys from the coding club blew up the GC last night. A few of them saw you come out of his car and enter his apartment building together last Saturday. I think there were pictures.” Your mouth is agape. You’re speechless. “I didn’t tell them anything! Some of the guys were just around the neighborhood and happened to see you.”
Oh, no. Oh, no no no no no no.
“But, I guess...the blind date went well?”
God, fuck no.
Your worst nightmare has finally come crashing into reality.
“We live in the same building, get your mind out of the gutter!” you hiss, pulling him by the collar. Heeseung is very visibly terrified. You never wanted him to find out about your living situation in the first place because you know that he’d force you to hang out with them whenever he’s crashing at Beomgyu’s. You’re starting to regret hitting up a conversation with him during the orientation. These men are the banes of your existence. “Who is it? Who the fuck is spreading that stupid fucking rumor?”
“Please let go of me,” he squeaks out. You grunt, releasing the fabric of his shirt. He takes in a breath and fixes his clothes. “I’m not a snitch. Sorry.”
Heeseung is avoiding your eyes. He’s twiddling with the top button of his button up, nervously pressing together his lips. You run through the members of their “coding club” (it’s just a cover so they can play games in a cushy campus office). It doesn’t take long for you to come up with a name.
“Yang Jeongin.” Your friend’s panic tells you that you’re on the nail. 
“He only sent the photo!” he quickly exclaims. “He never said that you two were hooking up or anything! Please, spare him, please—”
So much for a perfect morning. It’s not even nine and you’re already fucking drained.
You let out a groan, massaging your temples and balancing yourself with your elbows on the study table. Heeseung is spewing out a million apologies and you’re not taking shit. “You’re not gonna go to our clubroom and destroy our computers, right?”
“Thanks for the idea.”
“You’re a demon,” he grumbles. “What’s the big deal, anyway? You yourself said you and Beomgyu didn’t fuck. But you two went home together and you haven’t complained about him yet. That means your date went really, really—”
“Can you please just quit it?!” 
That’s it. You’ve had enough. You shoot up from your seat, quickly gathering your things before you actually start throwing punches. “I’m sick and tired of hearing his name!” Heeseung gulps. He quickly scoots away to evade your haphazardly swinging bag. “Why the fuck do you all keep mentioning that piece of shit? It’s like everyone’s obsessed with him, it’s like everyone wants a chance to ride on his di—”
The words get cut off. Because when you turned around to make your leave, Choi Beomgyu was right there, behind you, and you bump into him and his blank face of terror.
“Oh.”
Yang Jeongin is also there, looking mildly scared of you.
But you’re more horrified than anyone in this hall.
Hiccup!
Your face flushes, searing hot and visibly enflamed.
“I, uh—” hiccup! “I’m about to leave anyway so you guys can—” hiccup! “—shit, fuck, fucking hell—”
You quickly swerve away, head down, but an arm swooshes over to barricade your exit path. There’s a water bottle in front of your heated face. Your line of sight follows towards the owner of the arm. Beomgyu is looking at you straight in the eye.
“Drink some water first.”
Hiccup!
Fuck, this is so embarrassing.
“Whoa. She’s so fast.”
The three boys watch your speedily retreating figure, pausing once or twice because of a hiccup, but your pace is still abnormally fast as you escape from the premises. There is no trace of you, save for the orange juice container you’d been drinking since earlier.
“There’s this tension between the two of you, you know.” Beomgyu turns his head to Heeseung who made the observation, a single eyebrow raised. “Do you two really live in the same building, or is she just making up an excuse? Seriously. Tell me how it went with you two. I was the one who set you up. I think I have the right to know.”
Beomgyu holds back a snort. He leans closer to Heeseung, a subtle smile playing on his lips. “You wanna know?”
Heeseung’s eyes sparkle. “Dude, I’m dying of curiosi—”
Smack!
“That’s none of your business.”
Beomgyu swipes the juice box from the table and promptly leaves the library despite the protests of his two friends. Out in the hallway, he doubts he could catch up to you after running away like a white collar convict, but who knows? He might get lucky— just like last Saturday.
“Hey, dude, wait up!”
An arm is hooked around his neck, and he gets pulled down with a grunt. He might be unable to catch up to you, but his friends definitely can with him. Now all his chances are gone, slipping out of his fingers like the juice container that he drops when caught between Heeseung and Jeongin shoving each other around, and it’s now completely lost upon the arrival of the people from his major.
“Hey, classes are canceled.”
“What are we having for lunch?”
“Are we having a practice run later for the festival?”
“Wait, I have to update my story— hey, look at the camera!”
They talk, but it’s all white noise. He gets carried off by static for the rest of the day. He hopes to bump into you when he gets home, but Beomgyu doesn’t even know what time you usually get home.
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All the years you’ve spent mastering the perfect bitch face have finally come to fruition when you visited the programming club during lunch to make sure none of the bullshit they’re speculated escapes their clubroom doors. They all apologized— apparently Beomgyu also told them to quit their gossiping. 
However not even fear can stop an inherently stupid man. Because the next day, Minjeong suddenly tells you, “hey, I didn’t know you and Choi Beomgyu were a thing!”
Now, which rat managed to slip through the door crack?
“No, we’re not,” you scrunch your nose. “Where did you get that from?”
From a friend of a friend of a friend, she says. Sungchan asked you the same thing earlier. So did some guy from one class whom you don’t even know the name of. Your head is hurting. Crap that blind date was a stupid fucking idea. Seriously, why does no one know how to mind their own business? What is it about Choi Beomgyu that people just can’t keep his name out of their mouths? He’s not even a celebrity. He’s just a freshman with a pretty face and the social skills of an annoyingly loud butterfly.
“I’m going home,” you tell her.
“Why? I thought we were having barbecue with the rest of the guys!”
Not when you’re sure you’re gonna be barraged by another slew of questions about your dumb childhood friend. You bid Minjeong goodbye and exit the campus, hopping on the bus back to your apartment with a dead set agenda in mind. You’re going to fix this. You’r gonna bring things back to normal once and for all. So when you arrive at your floor, you don’t make a left like you usually do— you turn to your right and make three hard knocks on the sturdy door.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Choi Beomgyu.”
Knock, knock, knock.
“Beomgyu, are you ho—”
It gets opened sooner than you’re used to.
“Listen. We need to talk,” you quickly start, ignoring the surprise on his face upon seeing you, ignoring the way he almost shuts the door again right into your face. You hold back a scoff, but a sneer manages to sneak out. “Things have gotten messy since last Saturday. You should’ve kept your clubmates in check. What’s the point of acting like we’re strangers when people I don’t know keep asking me if I’m your fucking girlfriend, and Lee Heeseung keeps badgering me about what’s going on between us, and— oh my fucking god. Heeseung is right there.”
Beomgyu’s body is shielding you from the view of his living room. It’s not doing a good job because Heeseung waves at you from inside. Jeongin is there too. You can’t do this anymore. You’re cursed. You’re cursed with a plague called Choi Beomgyu and his ten million friends.
Your shaking eyes flit over back to Beomgyu. He looks panicked. Your heart is threatening to jump out of your throat and shrivel up like a pathetic dried grape.
“Fuck.”
At this point, running away feels like muscle memory to you now.
“Wait, I— hold on. I’ll be back,” you hear him say right before the door clicks and there’s another pair of pattering footsteps down the hallway right behind yours. The rhythm is familiar— a lag by one step, catching up, then slowing down as if he doesn’t want to overtake you all while you bulldoze through the hallway until you reach the flight of stairs, down three floors, and you’re met with the cold wind of the outside.
It’s only now that you realize your lungs are shaking.
“Hey—”
You smack away his attempt to settle a hand on your shoulder, but you’re far too embarrassed to look up and look him in the eye. Your face is burning. It’s been burnt so many times within the span of two weeks and it’s a miracle it hasn’t been charred. “Go away. Go back upstairs,” you sniffle. All you can see is the cement ground and the worn out slippers on his feet.
He stifles out something sort of a sigh. “No.” There’s a tug on the hem of your shirt. You wobble forward. Beomgyu holds onto your arms. You finally snap your head up and see his face. “You said we needed to talk. Let’s talk.”
It’s a little pathetic how you’re so near to breaking into tears. “I changed my mind. I don’t want to.”
“Is that really what you should be saying after completely screwing yourself over?”
“Shut up.” All the strength you had in your legs has been stripped away. Beomgyu is tugging your limp body to your complex’s gazebo with ease. “How could I have known your friends would be there?” you drawl out, allowing yourself to be dragged under its overhead roof.
He settles you down onto the stairs. “Isn’t Heeseung your friend too?”
“Not anymore.” You plop down on the wood, shoulders slacked, legs outstretched. Beomgyu is standing before you with his arms crossed. “From now on, he is nothing to me.”
There’s a frown on his face. “You should’ve called before deciding to blow up like that. I did my best. You’re the one that ruined your whole stranger agenda.”
“Fuck off, I’m still trying to cope.”
You kick out your foot like a child throwing a tantrum, and Beomgyu definitely doesn’t look impressed. He walks up, signaling you to scoot over, and squeezes right next to you on the narrow stair step of the gazebo. 
Shoulders pressed together, he leans slightly forward, elbows on his lap, and all you can see is the side of his face as you incline backwards so you don’t suffocate from the sudden tightness of air. “Am I like, too lame for you, or something,” he suddenly says. You blink once, failing to comprehend his words the first time. When he cocks his head back, you see the look in his eyes— earnest and raw.
You can’t help but crack out a snort.
“I’m— I’m sorry,” you sputter out. Your plaster your hands over your face, trying to suppress your misplaced chimes. “I just didn’t think you could make that kind of face. Wow, you can be serious too, huh?”
“You’re laughing,” he deadpans. “I’m trying to be serious here and you’re laughing.”
“I said I was sorry! Okay, let’s try again, let’s try again.” You clear your throat, sitting up straight and patting your palms on your lap, but something keeps tugging on the corners of your mouth and it’s hard to sit still. “No, you are not ‘too lame’ for me, Beomgyu. Where did that even come from?”
His expression bitters, unconvinced. “Then are you ashamed of me?”
“No.”
“Did I do anything abhorrently wrong?”
“What? No—”
“Am I not cool enough to be considered your friend?”
“Beomgyu, what are you talking about?” It was funny the first time, but now you’re just concerned. “Would I have stuck around your ass for almost twenty years if I thought any of that? Things haven’t been the best between us lately, but I still think we’re friends, Beomgyu, I—”
There’s a crack in your voice. Your face flushes. He’s looking at you so intently that you instinctively drop your head down before prying out the words that’s been lingering in your throat for months overdue.
“I…I hope we still are,” you mutter. “I really do.”
“Then why did you want to act like we’re not?” 
There it is.
“I didn’t want to keep it up for a long time!” you reason. “I just— I just wanted to keep my distance until I’ve adjusted to uni and until I’ve made a few friends of my own because for most of my life, I’ve only been known as the girl who’s always around you and nothing else.”
It takes a gnaw at your pride to be finally saying this out loud. It’s a bitter taste on your tongue— ugly and unpalatable and you’re glad that you won’t ever have to swallow it ever again. 
When you look up, you see Beomgyu make another new face you never expected from him.
“I doubt you noticed how people would only approach me because of you, but I really don’t blame you for anything. It was an unreasonable request and you had every right to be mad. I might have taken it back had we stayed around on the playground for a little longer.” You take a pause. “But then you started acting like a dick to me so I decided to be a dick to you too.”
You expect him to bite back but he doesn’t and it worries you. Shit, maybe you’ve unhauled too much. Maybe this wasn’t the right time be all vulnerable and crap but Beomgyu isn’t telling you you’re a big fucking idiot, so maybe it’s fine.
Instead, he stays quiet for a little longer, your words simmering in the air. 
“I wasn’t just angry. I was hurt,” he finally says. “Like you said, you’ve been with me for all my life and you suddenly tell me to reverse all of that. How the fuck did you expect me to act like you’re nobody when we both know that at this point I can’t live without you.”
Oh.
“Shit.”
Beomgyu’s eyes widen.
“I didn’t mean— I didn’t want to say—” He’s covering the bottom half of his face with his fist. He’s turning his head away as much as he can but you can still see enough to notice. “Fuck. I didn’t mean to say that. Forget about it.”
You lean closer. “Beomgyu, are you crying?”
“No. Fuck off.”
His right shoulder is serving as his shield as you try to dig your nose further, completely turning away from you, but you don’t miss it. You can’t miss it. “Oh my god, you’re crying.” Beomgyu leers back at you ever the slightest. There’s red tinting his eyes. You expect him to scurry off back into the building after that— but, no. Instead, pulls you by the forearm, and lets his head fall onto your shoulder, his forehead pressed firmly down. 
“Eat shit and die,” he mutters in between sniffles. After your initial surprise, you lift up the arm he isn’t grabbing onto to give him a few pats on the back, circles over his shoulder blades, and you stay like that for a while, for maybe too long because the sky is now darker than when you first went outside.
“Beomgyu,” you start.
“What do you want?” he muffles, as if he isn’t still draped over you like an oversized rag.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was selfish and inconsiderate.”
You hear him sniffle again. Heeseung wouldn’t believe you if you tell him Choi Beomgyu is actually a big baby. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize the way other people were treating you,” he says. “I can’t help being such a cool guy that you get overshadowed, you know. So I’m not sorry for that— ow! Ow, what the heck!”
You pry him off by the hair. You’re sure a few strands got plucked off, but a realization you didn’t expect to glean from this was the fact that his stupid shaggy hair is actually really soft. “I think this is enough. We should head back.”
In spite of his complaining, Beomgyu trails behind you when you stand up and dust yourself before making your way back inside. It’s still quiet, save for the hisses and grunts and swears whenever Beomgyu would step on your shoes, whenever he’d bump into you and feign innocence, whenever he’d get on your nerves immediately after just reconciling with you. 
It’s annoying. It’s annoying and it’s better than everything that’s been these past three months.
“Are you twelve?” you shoot him a glare, ready to punch in your door code before you get the urge to punch him instead.
“Come inside,” he tells you, nosing at his side of the apartment. “Let’s watch a movie.”
You raise a brow and cross your arms. “All of a sudden?”
“Yeah.” He mimics your pose. “Got a problem with that?”
You roll your eyes, but somehow you’re now a few steps away from your front door, and are now a few steps closer to his. “I do have a problem with it. Your fucking friends are in there.”
“I’ll deal with them.”
“Wow,” you snort. “So reliable.”
Still, you follow. Beomgyu twists his door knob and you’re suddenly nervous for the possible bullshit Heeseung would barrage you about your relationship with Beomgyu, but that doesn’t happen. The moment Beomgyu cracks open the door, his voice bounces around the inside of his apartment’s walls. “Anyone who doesn’t leave after the count of five will be banned from my apartment forever. Five. Four—”
Holy crap. You’re more surprised to see it actually work because Heeseung and Jeongin who’d been laying on the floor and tinkering with their playstation controllers have suddenly catapulted from the ground. “Wait, what about her?!” Heeseung protests as he’s being shoved by Jeongin out the door.
“She’s exempted,” Beomgyu responds. “Three. Two—”
“Whatever’s going on between you two, I take credit! You better spill the beans tomorrow. I can’t stand—”
“One.” 
With that, the door is shut.
Quiet washes over. Beomgyu turns to face you. “Good?” he asks. You give him a pat on the head.
“Good.” He’s like a puppy, you think, and retract your arm before spinning around to look around his living space. “What are we watching?”
It’s your first time inside, and the first thing you notice is how freaking dark it is inside his apartment. The windows are covered by blackout curtains, the television’s blue light and the light bulb from the kitchen island being the only light sources inside. You take the liberty to plop down on the floor in front of the sofa, further welcoming yourself to turn off the game the two were playing to scroll through Netflix.
“Remember the movie we got in trouble for watching?” Beomgyu rouses. He’s in the kitchen and cracking open the cupboards. “It was in eighth grade, I think.”
“The one that our parents thought was porn?” you question. Anyone would have thought it was porn with the word Bodies and the 18+ label on the CD case. “I don’t really recall the plot.”
“Me neither. All I can remember were your pissbaby screams.” 
“I was fourteen!”
He throws you a bag of chips and settles down right next to you. “Yeah, and so was I. Gimme the remote, scaredy cat.”
This guy is a perpetual test on your patience, but you continue to let him test you anyway. Before long, the television is shrouded by the familiar graphic imagery that scared you shitless early into your teenhood, and Beomgyu’s warmth is seeping into your side. His face is outlined by the bright red douses onscreen, melting into the contours of his face. “What are you looking at?” he asks, eyes absentmindedly still on the screen, hand mechanically digging into the bag of chips resting on your lap. “Don’t tell me you’re still scared? Wow, what a baby.”
“Coming from you? Your eyes are still red, Beomgyu. Your big baby tears have stained my shirt.” You swat his hand away. A creak rips out from the speakers. “Maybe you’re the one acting all tough.” Suspenseful music builds up. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell your friends and fans that the great Choi Beomgyu is actually— eek!”
There’s a jumpscare. And Beomgyu is laughing his ass off as you unbury your face from his shoulders, ungripping the wrinkled fabric of his shirt with a sharp glare and flushed cheeks. “Not a single word from your whore mouth,” you warn. He’s grinning like crazy as he looks down at you. 
“You haven’t changed a bit.”
“Neither have you,” you sneer, trying to play off how you flinched at the sudden loud noise from the screen, but he’s probably noticed. How could he not notice every jitter from your bones when your legs are practically tangled together, when he keeps reaching out an arm over you to steal from the chip bag you keep nestled on your side away from him. 
The next moments are filled with nothing but the noise of guts ripping, limps splattering, and blood-curdling screams. 
“Can we watch something else?!”
“No way. Quit being lame and suck it up.”
Yet— in spite of the jumps and squirms and suppressed squeaks from your person— you haven’t felt this comfortable in months.
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YOU DON’T LIKE CHOI BEOMGYU. You don’t like how much of your time he’s wasted. You don’t like how much of your pride he’s forced you to swallow. You don’t like how much of your identity he’s inadvertently stripped away.
You don’t like him for all those things, but here you are— dressed in his department’s colors, carrying a sign with his stupid face printed on, and waiting for the past thirty god damned minutes because he was supposed to be here ages ago for the stupid fucking E-Sports Fest that you’re not even remotely interested in.
If you don’t show up in five, I’m going home, you angrily mash on your phone. You’re risking it all here. If Heeseung sees you in this traitor outfit, he’s going to give you the silent treatment for a week. The bastard still owes you two more weeks of lunch to repent. You can’t lose the upper hand. You can’t lose your leverage.
Your phone buzzes. Had to piss. Be there in a bit, his reply says.
“I don’t need to be informed about your bladder activities, you freak,” you grumble to yourself. Your bright orange ensemble has been catching unwanted attention. That or his face on your sign. Any minute longer, you’re going to bury yourself alive.
“Excuse me.”
You feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn around and see an unfamiliar face. He’s wearing the same shirt color as you. “Are— are you friends with Choi Beomgyu?” he asks. The bastard has collected another fanboy. You feel a throb in the side of your head.
“Yes. Yes, I’m fucking friends with Choi Beomgyu. What about it? What do you want?”
“Whoa, there.” 
The said bastard swoops in and swings an arm over your shoulder and presses you to his side. “Sorry about that,” he tells the guy. Your sneer deepens. Beomgyu gives you a subtle pinch on the arm. “My friend is just grumpy because we lost a game to the engineering department earlier. Anyway, how can I help you?”
Orange number two wanted to ask for a picture with him because he was so cool in the Sudden Attack match earlier. Beomgyu excuses himself for a moment and they take a quick photo. “Tangerines are supposed to look pretty, you know,” your stupid friend announces once he gets back to you. You start making your way to the venue for his next match. It’s in a closed classroom. There’s a projector screen outside to livestream it. “Quit scowling. You’re scaring the kids.”
“That’s the plan,” you tell him. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head.
“If you keep acting like that, I might get the wrong idea,” he says. You look at him. There’s a subtle smile on his face and you don’t like it. “It’s like you only want me for yourse— ow! Joking! Joke— it was a joke! Jeez.”
“Go win, or whatever.” You shove him off seeing that you’ve arrived. It’s already pretty crowded. You’re scanning the area for a good spot to squeeze into.
“I better be hearing your cheers from inside the classroom.”
“Don’t bet on it,” you send him off with a smile. “If you lose, I’m unfriending you.”
“Not the first time you’d be doing it.”
“Fuck off. Good luck.”
He nods with a salute and an expression that mirrors yours before disappearing off into the classroom, and you’re left with two dozen bodies uncomfortably wedged in the hallway just to watch him play a game you don’t even know the god damned rules for. 
You don’t like Beomgyu. His face is something you’re sick of seeing after nearly twenty years of being stuck with him.
You don’t like him. Not even when he seems to always pick you despite having a million other options. Not even when he single-mindedly bulldozes straight into you despite having a whole army cheering for him on the sides after he’s won another game for his department, waiting for your praise and the usual swears you spit on his face with a bright smile.
“Congrats, fuckface,” you say, receiving him in your arms as he engulfs you in a tight hug. You give him a few pats on the back for good measure.
“You’re treating me to dinner, dipshit,” he grins, pulling away, but keeping a hold of your shoulders.
“Spoiled brat,” you sneer.
You don’t like him. He keeps buzzing around you like an immortal mosquito that just doesn’t die even after being swatted away tens of thousands of times. 
“Only to you,” he hums, looping an arm around your neck and starting dragging you along forward. “Let’s go. I’m hungry.”
You don’t like Choi Beomgyu. 
“Where do you wanna eat?”
You don’t. You really don’t.
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모기 / MOGI. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.
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