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#enjoy ! lmk if u give this a listen
pasta-pardner · 8 months
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spotify | art | He's back from the grave! Undead Nightmare playlist featuring mostly surf and garage rock.
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asahicore · 11 months
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kiwi and layla - sjy
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pairing. jake x fem!reader synopsis. in which you mistake jake’s backpack for your own, making you each go home with the other’s bag. both of you are too curious for your own good, so you quickly find out that you excel in the subject the other is failing - a mutual tutoring agreement ensues, and it turns into much more than what you had expected. genre. high school au, f2l, lots of fluff and some angst too, f2l, shy reader x outgoing jake warnings. food & swearing, mention of parent death and divorce, kms jokes, jake being stupid but also really cute (lmk if i've missed any!) word count. 26.3k a/n. this is part of the unexpected collab !!! go check out the other fics and caelin thank u for hosting <333 hope u guys like this one, it took me a while but i had so so much fun writing it !!! i love my jakey in here he's a little bit confused but he's got the spirit. @zreamy thanks for being the world's awesomest beta reader and a decent friend ig... 2 baddies wouldnt be the same without you... lifeguard wet body sunghoon coming soon guys dont miss it! as always pls remember how important reblogs and feedback is for us writers!!! it's what keeps us going <3 enjoy!!
listen to the playlist!
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This was not your backpack. 
In your defense, it looked so similar to yours - scratch that, it was the exact same as yours - that you couldn’t possibly have been able to tell the difference between the two bags until you’d opened one of them. Just a basic black Eastpak that probably a hundred other kids in your school owned with nothing to tell them apart, because you hadn’t had the mind to add a little something to it and make it recognizable. You hadn’t really needed to - your backpack was always on your back, next to your seat or in your locker. There was no way you might lose it or mistake it with another.
Until today, obviously. Instead of having a chill last class before spring break like every other teacher, your psycho math teacher Mr Choi had decided to give you a major test on this otherwise beautiful Friday afternoon. While other students watched a movie or played Kahoot, you were stuck in a cold classroom with algebra questions in front of you. Mr Choi had argued that this would be better than having a test after the holidays and ruining your time off with studying, but a test was a test, and math was math, so you hated the idea anyway. 
To eliminate all cheating possibilities, Mr Choi made his students only take a pencil and eraser with them, leave their bag at the back of the classroom and put their phone in a box he kept on his desk. Plus, with his hawk eyes watching intently, there was no way to sneak answers on a small sheet of paper or even on your palm. 
When the test was over, your brain was so fried and you were so eager to get the hell out of there that you didn’t even notice the two identical black backpacks next to each other, you just grabbed the first one you saw, not even questioning that it might not be yours.
And indeed, yours it was not. From your snooping around, you quickly found out it belonged to one Jake Sim. 
You knew Jake. Although you’d been attending the same school for the past three years, you could probably count the number of times you’d talked on one hand - but you knew him. Or at least, you knew of him. You knew that he was good at STEM subjects and that he was on the soccer team; you knew he was a really sweet guy and was easy to talk to, even for someone shy like you. 
Most importantly, you knew he was friends with Park Sunghoon. This was important because you had liked Park Sunghoon since the moment you’d laid eyes on him - or rather, your whole friend group had. It might’ve sounded extremely odd to others, but you and your friends had a few random people at school you liked to keep tabs on or create backstories for, and Sunghoon, because of his dashing looks that had struck all four of you in your first week of freshman year, was one of your victims. Well, you liked to think of them as characters on a TV show rather than victims, but to each his own. Your other characters included that popular sophomore who already considered herself a celebrity because of her ten thousand followers on TikTok anyway, the French and Spanish teachers you were sure had a thing going on, and that one guy in Yena’s biology class that only showed up every two weeks but always looked stoned (hat guy, Chaewon liked to call him, even you’d never once seen him with a hat on). It was all harmless, really - none of you ever actually went up and talked to them, just discussed them among yourselves.
Perhaps Sunghoon was different, because each of you had had a class with him at some point, so you’d all had at least shared a word with him. You probably hadn’t talked to him more times than you’d talked to Jake, so the information you knew about him was pretty surface-level - he was an ice skater, but everyone knew that, and he was shy like you, which was immediately noticeable. He also had one of the most handsome faces you’d ever seen. But again, everyone who saw him knew that.
You, Yena and Chaewon had debated whether one of you should just go ahead and make a move (Hyewon didn’t participate because she already had a boyfriend, but she was all for approaching the boy). You guessed you could describe what you felt towards Sunghoon as a sort of crush, even if it was one you shared with your friends - you found him cute, and you got nervous when he was around. But you were more the watch-from-afar-and-pine type, so you were satisfied with liking him from a distance. You didn’t think you actually had the guts to strike a conversation with him - that was more Chaewon’s thing.
However, this didn’t mean you weren’t curious about the contents of his best friend’s backpack. Your being shy didn’t mean you weren’t interested in other people’s lives - if anything, you were quite nosy. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but you were just a regular teenage girl, so this was fine, right? After just a few minutes of snooping, you found out Jake Sim wasn’t hiding any big state secrets in his Eastpak, anyway. Just some textbooks, notebooks, and a lot of single sheets of paper. It was pretty messy in there. 
Your idea of him being good at STEM subjects was correct - he kept all of his graded tests in the sleeve pocket of his math notebook, and there was not a single one that had received a note under 95. He even seemed to be doing some extracurricular exercises - there were formulae that were completely unfamiliar to you and that you were sure you hadn’t done in class. You found it slightly insane, but that might have just been because you despised math and wouldn’t understand why someone would want to do more of it than was required of them. 
His English homework was another story. His essays had more red from the teacher’s pen than his own black ink, and from the grades on his reading comprehension tests, you highly doubted he’d actually read any of the assigned books. You weren’t in the same English class but apparently had the same teacher, Ms Park, so you were studying the same thing. You couldn’t help but cringe as you read his answers on a Pride and Prejudice reading test - he seemingly kept mixing the sisters up, assigning actions and character traits to Lydia that clearly belonged to Jane. At least he somewhat got Darcy right, writing that “he’s probably not as bad as he looks,” with no further explanation. 
As you aimlessly flipped through his English notebook, curious about the way he took his notes - or if he even took any - you noticed some scribbles in the margins. Looking closer, some of them were in his handwriting while others were in an unfamiliar one. It looked like some sort of conversation, so you assumed the other writing belonged to his deskmate. You also did this with your friends in classes where the teacher was very strict about no chatting in class.
dude coach said if I fail any of my classes I would be out of the team, you read Jake’s handwriting.
Wait seriously????
yeah and I suck at english so Im scared it might actually happen
You just need to study more bro
bro I DO but this shit is hard
Then find someone to help you
neither of you guys is that good in that subject either tho
Ok ouch but also just find someone else then
bro who
IDK man 
Y/N maybe ? she’s good at English and she’s nice so she might say yes 
there you go about y/n again dude MAYBE you ask HER to teach you some sonnets
Shut up you’re the one who needs help dumbass
whatever isn’t it weird just asking her randomly though like i dont want her to feel like she has to say yes
Lol if she sees your grades she might do it out of pity
fuck u man
You were surprised to see your own name written there - it felt weird knowing that Jake and his friend were talking about you, for some reason. And what if that friend was Sunghoon? You had a hard time believing he not only knew you existed, but thought of you as good at English and nice. You liked to think both of these things were true. 
He was also spot-on about saying you would agree to helping out Jake in those subjects, but what he got wrong was thinking you’d do it out of pity. Clearly, you and Jake were in very similar positions. You didn’t have any sort of club you’d be kicked out of if you failed a class, but it sure as hell wouldn’t look good on your college applications, so you needed to get your math grades up. 
Jake and you both desperately needed something the other person could help with, so you had a feeling he wouldn’t turn down the offer that was brewing in your head.
This was not Jake’s backpack.
He noticed it right away - it was much heavier than his own and the straps were tighter around his shoulders than they should be. He looked inside for some clues about who it might belong to, and luckily, the first thing he found was a journal that had Y/N’S DIARY written on the cover page in big, pink letters. 
Unluckily, however, he’d also noticed that you had practically sprinted out of the classroom as soon as the bell rang, and indeed, you were already far gone when he tried looking for you around school. He had to get to soccer practice anyway, so he put the issue to the side for the time being.
When he got home, he had to shower then have dinner, so it wasn’t until 8 p.m. that he remembered he had your backpack. He had meant to text you straightaway about it, and he knew it was wrong to look into someone’s belongings, but he couldn’t help himself, especially when his best friend Sunghoon had liked you for ages. Maybe this was an opportunity to find out more about you.
Your mind-blowing grades in English don’t come as much of a surprise to him, and after reading through your most recent essay, he thought you definitely deserved them. Your essay was on a Shakespeare play he had never heard of - you apparently also had Ms Park for English, and he didn’t know she was doing Shakespeare in class, so he wondered for a second if you were actually crazy enough to read another book and study it. As if 300 pages of Jane Austen weren’t enough as it was. 
What shocked him were your math grades. It was like looking into a fucked-up mirror: while you excelled at English, you sucked at math; while he excelled at math, he sucked at English. You were just as close to failing your math class as he was at failing English.
Now that he thought about it, maybe Sunghoon’s idea hadn’t been so dumb - you could help him out, and he had an actual argument as to why you should, rather than just using pity on you.
As he put your stuff back in your bag, he was reminded of something - your diary. For some reason, the pretty floral pattern on the cover made him feel even worse for opening the journal in the first place, but he did it anyway. Either you’d only just picked up the habit of writing in a diary or you had finished your previous one recently, but this one seemed pretty new, as only about ten pages had been filled with your neat handwriting. Judging from the dates at the top of almost every page, you wrote in there everyday, and Jake only felt even worse that you hadn’t been able to write in it that day.
Still, he flicked to the first page and started reading. And he read and read, unable to take his eyes away from your diary. He thought he wouldn’t have cared much and a page would have satisfied his curiosity, but the way you wrote about the people around you and about yourself fascinated him. Basic high school things like friend drama and annoying teachers actually became interesting through your words. You didn’t use particularly complicated sentences or unheard-of words, on the contrary, you used simple language, and that spoke a lot more to Jake than any of the classics he’d attempted to read for class. 
And then, he saw an all too familiar name in an entry dated from just a few days ago. 
I sat next to Sunghoon today. It was during physics and both of our desk partners were absent, so Mrs Kim made me change seats. She always does this, and I used to wonder whether she hated to see an empty seat or to see a student sitting on their own, but whatever the reason, today, I was just happy about it. This isn’t our first time sitting next to each other in class, but I was still nervous, since I wasn’t expecting it. I hope he couldn’t feel the awkwardness practically oozing off of me or the way I very obviously struggled with the exercises (obviously, anything to do with math is not my forte). We shared my textbook because he’d forgotten his, and he showed me his notes when he saw I couldn’t keep up with Mrs Kim as she told us what to write down. We only exchanged a few words but I was satisfied when class was over. It’s odd, because you’d think someone would want to talk to the person they like and get to know them more, but I don’t feel that with Sunghoon. Maybe it’s because we’re both so introverted, and he seems to have just as hard a time as I do starting conversations, so I’ve sort of accepted our silent fate. I’m fine just continuing to steal glances at him from across the cafeteria. 
After that, there were a few more pages of writing up until yesterday's entry, but it was the only mention of Sunghoon. Jake had apparently been wrong to think that a girl’s diary would be full of rantings about her crush and things along the lines of “omg, he looked at me today”. 
But you had very clearly referred to Sunghoon as the person you liked, and Jake wasn’t going to let that go so easily. This was precious information that he held in his hands now, so he had to figure out how to deal with it properly for your sake as well as his friend’s.
Turns out there was more he could help you with than just algebra.
Seeing Jake Sim in a setting other than school was slightly odd, if you were being completely honest. 
You had just been about to text him about the backpack mix-up when you’d received a message from the man himself, asking if you could meet up the next day to exchange them. In response, you’d asked where you should meet, thinking he’d offer either his house or yours, or some halfway point between them, but he surprised you by proposing some café in the center of town. They have good hot chocolate there, he’d said, and that had been enough to convince you. 
And also I have something I want to talk to you about. 
Your stomach had turned at this message - what on Earth could Jake Sim need to discuss with you had been your first thought, and then you realized you also had plans you wanted to share with him. So his idea of going to a café was actually good for you, too.
You’d only been waiting for about five minutes when he appeared at the café, red and panting from seemingly sprinting to his destination. 
“Y/N, I’m sooo sorry,” he immediately said when he saw you waiting. “I was planning to be early, but when I got on the bus I realized I literally forgot your bag, so I had to go back but the next bus wasn’t for another twenty minutes so I just ran the whole way here, and now I’m all sweaty, and I’m late, and I’m really sorry.”
He’d rushed through his sentence and was breathing heavily as he looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer. He seemed so genuinely sorry for such a small thing that after your surprise faded, you started laughing. It was his turn to be surprised, and he immediately stopped talking at the sound of your soft giggles.
“It’s okay, Jake. I haven’t even been waiting five minutes,” you explained, smiling. “Let’s just go in, yeah?”
Jake’s heart did something weird just then, and the feeling was so unfamiliar and confusing that he decided to promptly ignore it. As if in a daze, he stood still for a couple of seconds until the sound of a bell ringing, the one the café had on its doors to signify the entrance or exit of a customer, snapped him out of it. He followed you into the shop, let you order and pay for you both (“I’m the one who took the wrong bag, it’s the least I can do,” you’d said) and sat across from you at a booth in the back.
You gave each other your respective bags back, then started chatting as you sipped on your hot chocolates (Jake had been right - they really were delicious). He was surprisingly easy to talk to, and whether he sensed you were a reserved person or was just naturally talkative, you liked that he both managed to do most of the talking and ask you loads of questions at once. Usually, you wouldn’t have really cared to listen to someone go on and on about their passion for soccer and the recent game that their team had won, but for some reason, you were hooked on Jake’s every word. The way his eyes widened in excitement as he recounted the winning goal he scored, the way the volume of his voice decreased as he filled you in on the team gossip even though no one was listening to your conversation, the way his grin turned into a proud smirk as he mentioned his coach congratulating him - every single one of his actions had you mesmerized. You’d never seen anyone so expressive in their speech, never seen anyone punctuate every sentence with a movement or a facial expression. It was just fun, listening to him.
Even when he didn’t talk, he stayed expressive. He asked you whether you did anything outside of school, and he listened intently as you told him about the theater group you’re in, humming and nodding and laughing at all the right moments. Usually, you wouldn’t have talked about it for more than thirty seconds, afraid to bore others with unnecessary details, but Jake’s reactions and the questions he asked made you actually feel listened to and like what you were talking about was interesting. So you grew more confident and told him what you loved about acting and about theater, about your own gossip (the arrogant actress who got the lead role and thought she was better than everyone else, that one guy who was clearly flirting with three girls at the same time), and you almost couldn’t believe Jake seemed so entertained by your stories. 
“So, you said your group focused on more classic plays, right? Does that mean you’re good at English Lit?”
With his spoon, Jake scooped some whipped cream into his mouth, hoping he was appearing as nonchalant as he was trying to be. He had to make you think he’d deduced that just now and not because he had been snooping through your backpack just the night prior. 
You, however, could not have cared less how he’d figured it out - you were just grateful he had segued into this topic of school and grades, because you’d been wanting to bring it up yourself but had no idea how.
“Um, yeah, actually, it’s my best subject. Math, on the other hand…”
You chuckled as his eyes widened and he leaned in across the table, pointing his spoon at you as he spoke. “See, that’s interesting, because math is my best subject, but I suck at English Lit.”
“Oh, really?” you asked, trying to sound genuinely surprised even though this piece of information was not at all new to you.
“Yeah,” he said, looking back down at his almost-finished drink with a small smile on his face.
“You know-”
“You know-”
You and Jake had spoken at the same time, and your eyes locked for a second before you started laughing. You gestured at him to go on first.
“I actually need pretty urgent help in English. Coach said he’ll put us out of the team if we fail even just one of our courses, and I’m very close to failing that class.” He took a moment to let out a sigh. “So, if you want, we could help each other out. Me with math, and you with English.” 
His eyebrows were slightly furrowed and he bit his lip as he looked at you expectantly. You thought he looked far too nervous for such a simple request, expression more like a boy who’d just asked his crush to the prom rather than offering mutual help you both desperately needed. You couldn’t help the smile that grew on your lips - you had never known Jake Sim to be so… cute. But he was waiting for an answer, so you pushed the thought out of your head.
“That’s a great idea, actually,” you replied, as if you hadn’t had the exact same idea. You were just relieved you hadn’t even had to bring it up yourself. “I also really can’t afford to fail math. It would look terrible on college applications.”
Jake let out a long, loud exhale. “God, yeah, college, I hadn’t even thought of that. Even more motivation to get better grades now,” he said with a chuckle.
You chuckled along, then cleared your throat and sat up straighter. You watched with amusement as Jake mirrored your actions and even the fake serious frown in your brows. You presented your hand for him to shake, which he did without hesitation.
“So it’s a deal then. We’ll tutor each other until we’ve gotten our grades up.”
“Deal,” he replied. As you both withdrew your hands, he dropped his serious facade and burst into giggles, a sound you hadn’t expected from the boy but somehow fit him well. You watched his face closely for a second, noticing the curl of his lips and the crinkle at the corner of his eyes, before breaking into laughter yourself.
You stayed in the café for another half hour, going over details of where and when you’d meet, of what exactly you needed help with (“Everything,” you’d said, to which Jake had replied “Same”), and just talked some more.
“I’m taking the 53 that way,” Jake said when you exited the café, pointing towards the bus stop.
“Oh, so am I!” you exclaimed.
“Seriously?! What’s your stop?”
And that’s how you and Jake figured out you only lived two bus stops away from each other. 
“That’s so cool! It’ll make it easy to meet up then,” he said, and you hummed in agreement. After a pause, he added: “But if we live so close to each other, how come we didn’t go to the same schools earlier? Aren��t you usually supposed to go to the one in your district?”
“I used to live in another part of town,” you explained. “Then my parents divorced when I was in middle school, and I stayed with my dad because he lived closer to the school I was at, but I moved to my mom’s place for high school.”
“‘Cause she lives closer?”
“Yeah, basically.” There was more to it, but you didn’t think Jake would be particularly interested in your parental issues - although you surprised yourself for even considering telling him. If Jake sensed that you weren’t saying everything, he didn’t push, just swiftly changed the topic as you waited for the bus to come.
When you got home some time later, the first thing you did was open your diary and start writing. It had felt wrong not to write in it even just for a day, so it was a relief to feel the pages between your fingers and the familiar scent of the paper and your perfumed pen. You wrote without thinking too much, simply letting all of your musings out into your diary and freely brushing the tip of your pen across the pages. 
You didn’t ever reread your entries right after writing them, but if you had that day, you might have noticed all you could write about was the boy you’d drank a hot chocolate with.
Spring break week passed by far too quickly, and it was on the first Monday back at school that you and Jake met again. He had soccer practice on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays, while you had theater rehearsals on Thursdays and Saturdays, so you’d agreed to meet up every Monday and Wednesday after school. Since his mother worked as the school nurse, she drove him to and from school everyday - so on Monday, you met Jake in front of the nurse’s station, waiting for his mom to wrap things up before she drove you both to their home.
You had been surprised to learn that the kind nurse that never asked too many questions and always let students take a nap if they didn’t feel well was Jake’s mom, but upon reflection, it made sense. Once you knew, it was almost obvious that she had raised him - they shared the same friendliness, the same comforting smile and the same ability to make conversation. The whole ride home, she asked you about yourself and thanked you for agreeing to tutor “our little Jakey,” because “God knows he needs the help.” 
You couldn’t help but laugh when a blush crept on Jake’s face and he looked out the passenger seat window with an embarrassed frown, muttering something like “Thanks a lot, Mom.”
She noticed his reaction and laughed along with you. “I’m just saying, Jakey-poo. It’s good to know to ask for help when you need it,” she cooed, reaching a hand out to ruffle his hair. This only made Jake groan loudly and hide his face in his hands. You didn’t know Jake very well, but this flustered, red-faced side of him was definitely one you liked seeing.
The first thing that greeted you when you reached Jake’s house was a happy welcome home bark.
“You have a dog?!” you exclaimed, unable to reel your excitement in.
“Yeah! This is Layla,” Jake said, giving energetic rubs to the Border Collie that made her whole body shake side-to-side but that she seemed to thoroughly enjoy. 
“Hi, Layla,” you cooed, crouching down to her level to let her sniff you. She decided you were a person worthy of petting her. “She’s so cute!”
“I think she likes you,” Jake said, a grin on his face, as he watched Layla presenting her belly to you and asking for scratches there. “Do you have a dog?”
“We have a Corgi at home. And a cat, too.”
“That must be fun,” Jake chuckled. “Do they get along?”
“Depends. They have a bit of a love-hate relationship.” You looked up at Jake, and it was uncharacteristically quiet as you locked eyes for a couple of seconds. You both looked away at the same time, surprised by the sudden eye contact.
You gave Layla one last rub and lifted yourself up. “Um, should we get started?” 
Jake paused for a second as if he’d forgotten what you were here for in the first place, then started nodding his head quickly. “Right, yeah. Let’s go to my room. Downstairs is just one big room and my mom will probably watch TV or make dinner or something, so it might be distracting…” he explained, lightly scratching the back of his neck. It seemed like he was embarrassed to be bringing you to his room, which you couldn’t help but find endearing.
“Okay, sounds good,” you said with a smile, hoping it’ll reassure him.
You followed him up to his room, ignoring his complaints as you lingered on the framed photos on the wall next to the stairs and giggled at his baby pictures. 
“Do not look at those,” he said with a warning tone that didn’t scare you in the slightest. When you didn’t listen, he grabbed your hand that had been pointing at a photo of baby Jake in the bathtub and forced you to keep walking.
“Why?” you asked, a slight whine to your voice.
“‘Cause it’s embarrassing! I was an ugly baby.”
“What?! You were so cute!”
“Whatever. I’d rather study English than talk about this, and that’s saying something.”
When you looked at Jake, you were surprised to find that he actually seemed upset about this. You weren’t sure what was so wrong with looking at his baby pictures, but the last thing you wanted to do was make him mad, so you stayed quiet and continued your way to his room. Once there, although you were infinitely curious about all the posters, pictures, figurines, trophies, and other small tokens of Jake’s life, you didn’t ask him about any of them, just sat next to him at his desk and opened The Picture of Dorian Grey, the book you had both been studying in Ms Park’s class.
You’d agreed on spending forty-five minutes on English, have a small break, then spend forty-five minutes on Math. It wasn’t a lot, but you both had other homework and things outside of school you needed to do, so you’d decided to start out that way and see if it worked out.
You were glad to see how seriously Jake was taking this - he listened intently to what you said and asked questions when he didn’t understand something. You quickly figured out that what he didn’t like about English Literature was that the answers weren’t as straightforward or as logical as they were in math, and even worse, that multiple answers were possible depending on the reader’s interpretation. 
“It just all feels like a guessing game,” he said, resting the side of his head on one of his palms. “How am I supposed to know what this dude meant? And if it can be analyzed in different ways, how can Ms Park tell me the way I understand it is wrong?”
“It’s all about the way you justify it,” you explained. “You can’t just say whatever. Ms Park will look out for how you use the text to support your answers.” You then went on to pick out a specific part of the book, asking Jake to analyze Dorian’s mindset in that scene. 
“He sounds like he’s going insane,” Jake said flatly when he was done reading, getting a chuckle out of you.
“Exactly. How do you know that?”
“I don’t know, just the words he uses,” Jake replies, shrugging.
“Okay, underline those words,” you instructed gently. Jake sighed, but he complied.
“There.” 
“Good. What can you say about those words?” When Jake just looked at you like a lost puppy, you reformulated your question. “What do they have in common? What type of words are they? Are they common nouns, verbs…”
Jake looked back at the words he’d underlined on the page. “They’re… adjectives?” he said, tone unsure.
“Exactly!”
Jake paused. “So?”
“So now you can say that the author uses many adjectives to convey the gradual loss of sanity of the main character.”
“Oh.”
When you looked at Jake, he wore an expression like the words on the page were finally starting to make sense to him. “That’s the content. You can also look at the structure. See how many punctuation marks there are? Commas, semi-colons, question marks… It’s like he keeps cutting himself off. His thoughts are all over the place.”
Jake nodded slowly. “So, I just need to look out for things like that?”
“Basically, yeah. And the more you practice, the more these things will stand out to you. It actually becomes somewhat repetitive sometimes.”
Jake let out a shaky breath. “That’s actually relieving to hear,” he said with a chuckle.
Thirty minutes passed by like this as you showed Jake ways to make sense of a literary text. When the timer rang, he leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms out wide with a sigh. He put his hands behind his head and let it hang back, and the way your stomach flipped at the sight of his exposed neck and Adam’s apple made you look away immediately. You could barely meet his eyes as he turned his head to look at you, still in that same position, and, with a smirk, asked if you were ready for some snacks. 
You gulped, trying to look as normal as possible. “Uh, yeah, sure!”
Downstairs, Jake presented you with all sorts of snacks - there were so many, you felt like you were in a convenience store. This was worlds away from your ingredient-only household. You opted for some biscuits and a banana while Jake made himself a bowl of cereal. A very distracting ten-minute long argument then ensued about the order of milk and cereal - horrifyingly, Jake poured his milk before his cereal. You thought it was a myth that some people actually did it that way, but Jake very proudly defended his choice. 
“I bet you eat pizza with pineapple on it, too,” you said half-jokingly, only for your joke to punch you right back in the face.
“Duh,” Jake answered.
You could only shake your head in defeat. “Let’s just get back to studying before I murder you.”
“Damn, Y/N,” Jake said, laughing. “That’s harsh.”
“And you’re a freak,” you retorted, a grin blooming on your lips.
“You know, you remind me of my friend Jay,” Jake mused as you walked back up the stairs. “He has so many of these small battles that he just won’t let go of. He got super worked up over an argument about mint chocolate chip ice cream once.”
“Let me guess, you like that ice cream?”
Jake shrugged. “It’s not my favorite, but I’ll have it once in a while.”
“God, Sim, you just get worse and worse.”
You sat back down at his desk and started eating. “I bet you think I’m weird for liking math too, right?”
“That’s the worst offense of them all.” 
Jake’s sudden quietness caught you off guard. When you turned your head to look at him, he was already gazing at you with a smile and a sort of thoughtful glint to his eyes, resting his chin on his palm. It sounded like he was thinking out loud when he spoke next. “Guess we’re perfect opposites of each other. Like two peas in a pod!”
The realization of what he’d said dawned upon him as soon as the words left his mouth. He slowly lifted his head as his eyes widened. “I don’t mean- just, you know, since you’re good at English and I’m good at math, and- you know… I didn’t mean it in a weird way, or anything…”
His eyes kept glancing back and forth between you and his bowl of cereal, as if he was scared of looking directly at you but wanted to check your reaction. 
As a smile grew on your face, you kept your eyes trained on your biscuits so he wouldn’t see your flustered expression. But when you looked at him again, he held your gaze, mouth slightly agape. You didn’t have it in you that he had gotten the idiom completely wrong. “I know, don’t worry.” You chuckled. “We are opposites of each other. You just better be as good at teaching math as I am at teaching English,” you teased.
You watched as a smirk tugged one corner of Jake’s lips up and he raised an eyebrow. “Who said you were good at teaching English?”
You gasped. “You said you understood better now!”
Jake’s smile softened as he giggled. “I’m just teasing. You are a good teacher.”
You sat up straighter at the compliment, a proud smile on your face. “Your turn, Mr Sim. I’m all ears.”
“Right,” he said, mirroring your posture. “Shall we start by going over Mr Choi’s test from last week?” 
Your smile dropped instantly at this. Reluctantly, you fished your graded paper out of your bag. You already knew Mr Choi was a psychopath, but you still didn’t understand where he found the will to grade thirty papers over the weekend. You avoided Jake’s gaze as you handed him your test with a big, red, circled D- at the top.
You cringed as Jake sighed. “At least it’s not an F, right?” he said in what you could tell was an attempt at reassurance but somehow only made you feel worse. He looked over your answers quickly, trying to find what in particular you struggled with. “All right. Let’s start from the beginning, yeah?”
For the next forty-five minutes, Jake went over each test question with you, breaking them down and explaining how to solve them in a way you understood. The words he used were so much clearer than the half-assed explanations you were used to from Mr Choi, and for once, math actually made some sort of sense. Your brain still felt broken after almost an hour of numbers and greek letters, but at least, you felt smarter rather than dumber at the end of it. You had never been more grateful for the sound of a phone alarm than the one signaling tutoring was over. 
“That wasn’t half-bad, right?” Jake asked with a wide grin.
You felt so tired, you could probably pass out right then and there, but Jake looked so proud of himself after you had been able to complete an exercise correctly on your own that you didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. “Right,” you replied, mirroring his grin. “You’re an okay teacher, I guess.”
He jokingly glared and tutted at you, but you both laughed right after. “I need to walk Layla, so I can walk you home, if you want?” he offered as you started packing your things. His words had an uncertain tone to them, as if he wasn’t sure you’d still want to spend time with him after this - but it only took you a second of thinking to realize you’d rather continue hanging out with him than going home on your own.
“Sure! I need to walk Kiwi too, actually.”
“Your dog’s name is Kiwi?!”
“Yes,” you said, chuckling at his fascinated tone.
“That’s an adorable name.”
“Thanks, I chose it.”
“Oh, then I take it back. Worst name I’ve ever heard for a dog.”
“Hey!” you exclaimed, lightly hitting him on the head with your math notebook, making him raise a hand in self-defense as he laughed.
“Sorry, sorry. Does your cat also have a fruit name?” 
A pause. “Mango,” you mumbled, and he immediately burst into laughter again. You side-eyed him as you zipped up your bag.
“Wow, you have amazing taste in pet names, Y/N.”
“Shut up,” you said, laughing along. Then you realized something, and you suddenly stopped laughing, looking up at Jake with wide eyes that made him slightly start to panic. “Oh my God, Jake, are our dogs going to meet?”
“Our dogs are going to meet,” he echoed in a sort of fascinated whisper. You both understood the other - dogs becoming friends was the cutest thing ever.
“Let’s go,” you whispered back excitedly.
When you reached the living room downstairs, you bid Mrs Sim goodbye, then went to the entrance to put your shoes back on. “You two sure get along well,” you heard her say to her son with a suggestive tone. Even though she had dropped the volume of her voice, the door was wide open and there were only a few meters between you, so you’d heard her loud and clear. 
“Geez, Mom,” Jake groaned, seemingly irked by his mom’s insinuation.
“It’s just you’ve never brought a girl home, Jakey-”
“Okay, we’re leaving now! Layla, come!”
You hadn’t even realized how wide you were grinning until Jake saw you tying your shoelaces and grumbled “What are you smiling so hard for.”
“Nothing,” you giggled, and your smile grew as you watched a grin break through his pretend-upset expression.
You sighed contentedly as you stepped outside, letting the crisp early April air hit your face. You tightened your scarf around your neck and buried your hands in your pocket and you and Jake started walking side by side, Layla happily leading the way. The streets were fairly quiet at this time of day, save for the yells of children still playing in their backyards before dinner and a few cars of people coming home late from work.
Only the first five seconds of the walk were silent, until you couldn’t contain yourself anymore. “So, never brought a girl home, huh?” you asked with a teasing smirk.
Jake let out an offended scoff and looked up to the sky as if God could help him out of this one. Sadly, He didn’t, so Jake had to find an answer himself. “I’m not talking about this with you.”
“Why not?”
Pouting, Jake spared you a sideway glance. “Because you’re a girl,” he replied, voice lowered to a mumble.
You chuckled at this. “Very astute observation, Jake.”
“No, I- Ugh,” he groaned before laughing along with you. “I don’t need a girl to know how bad I am with- well, with girls.”
“I can help with that,” you said before you really thought about it. “I mean, I’m not a love expert by any means, but I can maybe give, I don’t know, pointers or something if there’s someone you like-”
“There’s no one I like,” Jake quickly cut in. “Um, not right now, at least.”
“O-okay,” you replied, nodding. “That’s fine.” 
“What about you? Do you like anyone?”
As Jake asked the question, he realized he already knew the answer - you liked Sunghoon. How could he forget?! Half of his plan had been to make you get closer to his friend, but he hadn’t even started thinking about that yet. In his defense, he’d come up with that plan three days ago.
Your answer surprised him. “Um, no, me neither. Not right now, at least,” you said, repeating his words with a smile on your face. You locked eyes for a second before looking away at the same time, chuckling.
“Right,” he said. He knew what he had read in your diary, so maybe you were just too shy to admit you had a crush on his friend of all people.
An unexpected awkwardness settled between the two of you, and you more than anything wanted it to go away. Even though it’d only been a few days since you and Jake had started getting to know each other, you already felt comfortable enough to be yourself around him, and it usually took you weeks before reaching that level with anyone. This hadn’t happened since you met Yena and Hyewon at the beginning of high school - they had been friends since middle school, and so had you and Chaewon, and when the four of you met, you had instant chemistry. But maybe it was slightly too early to start talking about crushes with Jake.
For once, you were the one to break the silence - you asked him whether he knew what he wanted to do after school. Basic question, but you were genuinely curious. 
Looking a little bashful, he confessed his dream had always been to be a math teacher and soccer coach at a middle or high school. You told him he already had the talent for it, and when he blushed at your words, you made sure to tease him for it.  
“I’m not sure yet,” you said when he returned the question. “I know I wanna go to college and continue doing English Lit and theater there, but that’s about it.”
“That’s already good enough,” Jake said with a smile. “Still got time to figure out what comes after, right?”
You naturally mirrored his smile - there was something contagious about Jake’s puppyish grin that made it hard not to smile yourself. “Right.”
The three of you reached your house quickly after that. Your mom still hadn’t come home from work, so Kiwi was even more excited than usual for your arrival home. You and Jake watched fondly as your dogs sniffed each other for a few seconds before starting to run around together. The fact that they got along made you really happy, perhaps unreasonably so, and you started bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet as you watched them play. “Our dogs are friends!” you exclaimed excitedly. 
When you turned to look at Jake, he wasn’t watching the dogs like you had been - he was gazing straight at you, eyes soft with something that made your heart skip a beat. You couldn’t look away, and it was only after a few seconds that he seemed to snap out of the sort of daze he was in. He cleared his throat and you finally tore your eyes away from him.
“Let me just- Kiwi! I need to put his leash around him,” you said, speaking quickly to dissipate the weird atmosphere as best as you could. You led Jake down the path you usually took with Kiwi that led to a park in your neighborhood, and you were relieved when normal conversation started again.
Jake insisted on walking you back to your house even though he had left his earlier. He made a whole show of not going until you’d walked inside and closed the door, so you’d rushed to your window to shout his name and wave goodbye at him, which made him laugh.
You turned back to Kiwi when Jake and Layla had turned a corner and you couldn’t watch them anymore. “Are you happy you made a new friend, Kiwi?”
The Corgi barked happily at you in response - probably more at hearing his name than because he understood your question, but still, you liked to think you could communicate with your dog on such a level. You chuckled and took him in your arms. “Me too.”
Apparently, you couldn’t even wave to someone in the hallway without being interrogated about it anymore.
“Y/N, did you just say hi to Jake Sim?” Chaewon asked like you’d just insulted her whole family.
It was 10 a.m. on a simple Tuesday morning, the day after Jake and you had studied together for the first time, and you’d just walked past the boy - so of course, you said hi to him. Maybe, your heart started beating slightly faster when you’d noticed him approaching. Maybe, it was nice to be on the receiving end of his friendly grin.
“Yes?” you replied, sentence coming out more like a question.
“Since when do you say hi to Jake Sim?!” 
“Since today, I guess.”
“But why?!” She’d raised her voice so much, you’d gotten strange looks from other students in the hallway. 
“I told you!”
She shook her head slowly at you as if to say, No you didn’t!
You rolled your eyes and sighed. Chaewon and her early onset short-term memory loss. “The backpack thing? And agreeing to tutoring each other? I wrote to the group chat about this!”
“Oh, that! Of course I remember that,” she said, even though you knew she had forgotten about it and remembered it just now. “So, has that started already?”
You reached the classroom for your next class and sat down in your usual seats next to each other, waiting for the teacher to arrive. Busy hallways like these were the perfect place for gossip, because they were loud and nobody paid attention to others’ conversations. “Yeah, yesterday afternoon.”
Chaewon gasped. “And you didn’t tell us?!”
“Will you quiet down? I was going to see and tell you guys today anyway.”
“Okay, so, tell me about it.”
“But-”
“Tell. Me.”
You wouldn’t see Yena and Hyewon until lunch in two hours, and you knew Chaewon didn’t have the patience to wait until then. So you sighed again and obliged, telling her about your afternoon with Jake in every detail you could remember, because she would ask about insignificant things anyway. 
To your surprise, the first thing she said when you were done talking was this: “Y/N, do you like Jake?”
Your mouth opened slightly in shock at the question, but before you could even retort, you started giggling. “No, I don’t,” you said in a way that sounded like you very much did.
“Oh my God! You so do!” Chaewon said, giggling along with you. “You whore, you’ve only talked to him, like, twice,” she joked.
You gasped fake-dramatically and slapped her arm. “Oh please, look at Hyewon and Jaemin, they started dating after a week of talking.”
“Yes, and they’ve been going one year strong, so clearly, you need to ask Jake out and get this over with. You’ll get a boyfriend and a math tutor all-in-one, it’s a perfect deal!”
“Don’t get too carried away, okay? Jake and I are friends. Like you said, we barely know each other right now.”
You meant this - sure, you had had a really good time with Jake both times you saw him, and you were looking forward to your next tutoring session, but you chalked it up to the excitement of making a new friend. Plus, barely last week you felt some sort of way towards his best friend - wouldn’t it be weird to practically transfer your feelings from Sunghoon to Jake?
“Whatever. Yena and Hyewon are gonna freak when I tell them,” Chaewon said excitedly.
You shook your head at your friend but couldn’t keep down the amused grin on your face. “You guys are insane.”
“Oh please, like you’re not the president of our Park Sunghoon fanclub. I can’t believe you’re leaving us for his best friend!”
“Hey, if anything, less competition for you, right?”
Chaewon opened her mouth to say something, but the teacher arrived, starting the lesson before having even put her bag down - Mrs Lee always arrived late but never wasted a second of class when she was in the room. Your friend resorted to sticking her tongue out at you instead, and you chuckled at her childishness as you opened your History notebook. 
Jake was a complete, total, utter idiot. His plan had consisted of two things only, and he’d somehow managed to forget one of them, even after talking about it with you, albeit vaguely. It had taken him two weeks and one Park Sunghoon to even remember it.
Between Jake’s soccer practice, Sunghoon’s ice skating practice and Jay’s being away at boarding school, the three friends only had one night every week on which they were all free - Friday night. So, every Friday, they planned some sort of hang out at one of their houses and gamed or watched movies all night.
Kinda like date night, but for bros.
This was one of those bro nights; namely, the one in the second week of you and Jake tutoring each other. The boys had decided to go to the burger joint they like that night and were in the middle of a french fry fight when Sunghoon mentioned your and Jake’s new friendship.
“So, Jake… what’s up with you and Y/N?”
Jake halted in his motions, redirecting to his mouth the fry he was about to throw at Jay. “Nothing’s up with me and Y/N. What makes you say that?”
“Just, you know, you seem like you’ve become actual friends. Talking in the hallways and walking your dogs together and whatnot.”
“Y/N as in Y/N? Sunghoon’s Y/N?” Jay said, halfway through a bite of his cheeseburger.
“She’s not my Y/N-”
“Yes, Y/N as in Y/N, you idiot,” Jake cut in. “And like you said, we’re friends.”
“Is she the girl you posted some BeReals with?” Jay asked, and Jake nodded. “She’s pretty! No wonder Sunghoon likes her so much.”
Sunghoon sighed as he let his head hang low. “God forbid I find a girl cute, because I’ll mention it once, two years ago and you guys make me out to be in love with her.”
“Sunghoon, you act like girls don’t exist, so of course when you not only mention a girl, but describe her as cute, that means you’re in love with her!”
“But I’m not! We were literally having a whole conversation about girls, I happened to see Y/N and her friends from far away, I said she was cute, and now you guys won’t let me live it down. Jay, you weren’t even there!”
“Yeah, but the way Jake told me about the whole thing, it really sounded like you liked her.”
“Why would you trust Jake to relay something like this correctly?!”
Jay paused and tilted his head. “You have a point there.”
“Hey!”
“So you don’t, like… like her, or something?” Sunghoon asked, looking at his friend as he sipped on his Pepsi.
This made Jake stop. Did he like you? Wasn’t the fact that he was considering it sign enough? Surely, if there was nothing there, he would have answered no right away.
But there was no use thinking about it. You liked Sunghoon. And as much as he liked to deny it, Jake knew Sunghoon liked you, too. After two years, there was finally an opportunity for the two of you to get closer - Jake wasn’t about to get in the middle of that. If anything, he should help his friends out. Then, when you and Sunghoon eventually got married, Jake would have the honor of saying it was all thanks to him in his best man’s speech. 
“No, I don’t. Don’t worry, Hoon, I’m not gonna steal your girl away from you.”
“Again, she’s not my girl-”
“Whatever you say. I’ll introduce you guys.”
Even if Sunghoon didn’t think he liked you yet, Jake knew it was just a matter of time - his friend just needed to spend a few hours with you to realize he did. You were pretty, smart, funny, nice, had the sweetest laugh he’d ever heard, got along with dogs, and even though you sometimes had weird opinions, it was always fun, talking to you. It was easy and comfortable. Anyone with taste would fall for you.
Anyone, except for Jake, of course.
For the past three weeks, you and Jake had gotten along perfectly, but today, on this bright Tuesday afternoon, you really wanted to strangle him. 
When he’d invited you to come and watch him at soccer practice, you’d been surprised, but happy - usually, you invited people to watch an actual game, not just practice. But you were just glad for the opportunity to spend more time with him. 
Without realizing it, you were giddy with excitement the whole day, counting down the minutes until classes were over and Jake’s practice started. Jake had told you to just head to the bleachers while the players got ready in the locker room, but when you reached said bleachers, someone was already sitting there, looking at something on their phone. You recognized him immediately as Sunghoon. He didn’t notice you right away, so you had time to wipe the surprise off of your face - you hadn’t thought anyone came to watch practice, but Sunghoon was probably here for Jake, just like you. 
“Hey,” you said quietly as you sat down next to him. Even though you were technically still on school property, this was the first time you saw Sunghoon outside of somewhere like a classroom, a hallway or the cafeteria. You weren’t as nervous as you thought you’d be, seeing him unexpectedly like this. 
You chuckled when Sunghoon started at your sudden arrival. “Oh, hey, Y/N,” he said, chuckling too, albeit somewhat awkwardly. “Sorry, didn’t hear you coming.”
“It’s fine,” you said with a smile as you sat down next to him on the bleachers. You didn’t know what sort of distance was appropriate between you two, if you should sit close or far, but you stopped yourself before you could overthink something as trivial as that. Neither of you said anything for a few seconds and you wished practice had started before you got here, so that you’d have something to look at other than an empty field.
You broke the silence before it became too uncomfortable. “So, do you come watch Jake often?”
You’d been fiddling with your hands as you spoke, only turning your head to look at Sunghoon as you awaited his answer. Your eyes didn’t even meet for a fraction of a second before he whipped his head to look at the field, as if unable to look at you and talk at the same time. At least he had a nice side profile for you to look at.
“Um, just on Tuesdays. I have ice skating practice after this, so I come here first, then he comes with me to the rink,” he replied. He glanced at you, lips pressed into a thin line that somewhat resembled a smile and that pushed dimples into his cheeks. You simply hummed in response. 
“What about you, how come you’re here?”
“Jake asked me,” you replied. Sunghoon let out a long “oh” as he nodded, turning his head back towards the field again. You didn’t think you’d ever had such a slow conversation. It was like you and Sunghoon both repeated your words ten times over in your heads before saying them out loud.
“Are you coming to my practice, too?” he asked after another pause.
The question took you aback slightly as you hadn’t even considered it, but it could be fun, seeing Sunghoon practice ice skating. It’d also be fun to hang out with Jake. “If it’s fine with you, then yeah, why not,” you replied, smiling at Sunghoon. He glanced at you again before looking away with a smile, an actual one this time that showed his teeth and made his eyes crinkle.
“Yeah, sure. People usually only come to actual shows, so I like it when someone’s there to watch practice.” Before you could find something to say, the players arrived jogging onto the field, immediately starting their warm-up laps. Some were serious about it and stayed focused as they ran, while others goofed around, running backwards and slapping other players on their butts before sprinting away. Jake, of course, was part of the latter group.
Now that something was actually happening on the field, you and Sunghoon had an excuse not to make conversation anymore. You tried to ignore it, but it was so awkward you wanted to die. You realized now why you were so attracted to people like Jake and Chaewon - without even being aware of it, they brought you out of your shell and made you feel at ease. You wished you could do that on your own, but you were always too scared, so you needed that person who was confident enough showing themselves to you first to make you feel comfortable doing the same. You and Sunghoon, unfortunately, were too similar in that sense to do that for each other. So you just sat there in silence, observing Jake and waving back at him when he caught your gazes.
The ninety minutes of practice didn’t go by in total silence - you asked Sunghoon about some soccer rules you didn’t get, and he shared some anecdotes from his and Jake’s earlier teenage years, including a very entertaining story about a tantrum 9-year-old Jake had thrown when he hadn’t agreed with the red card the referee had given him. You weren’t sure how the topic came up, but at some point, you even shared pictures of your pets. Sunghoon had one of those small crusty white dogs, but you kept your laughter in and cooed over how cute she was. 
But still, most of the time, you were watching Jake. You had never been interested in soccer or any sort of sport that involved balls until now. Somehow, he managed to make flushed cheeks, a heaving chest and hairline beaded with sweat look glorious. In total honesty, you were paying more attention to the player himself than to the sport, to the point that you barely noticed when he scored a goal during their practice match. It was only when Jake started cheering and high-fiving his teammates that you realized what had happened, and you gave him two thumbs up and a wide grin when he looked your and Sunghoon’s way, proudly shouting “Did you see that?!”
The realization hit you like a ton of bricks right there and then. The way your heart swelled as you watched his excited, puppyish grin take over his features was undeniable - you liked Jake. You like liked him. Your gaze continued to follow him as he finished his celebratory lap. If you could’ve seen yourself right then, you’d probably have been embarrassed by your awestruck expression and slightly agape mouth, but you couldn’t help yourself.
Much to your dismay, you realized that Chaewon had seen right through you. You hadn’t wanted to read too much into your feelings, but they had become too obvious to ignore. You hadn’t experienced them yourself since middle school (Choi Soobin had really been a heartbreaker back then), but you’d heard about the telltale signs of a crush too many times not to know about them. It was now clear that the way you felt about Jake and the way you had felt about Sunghoon were worlds apart. Feeling nervous around him and your heart skipping a beat when you made eye contact; wanting to see him smile; laughing at all his jokes, even the bad ones; missing him even though it’d been seconds since you said goodbye, and counting down the days until you saw him again. And, yes, looking at his pictures on social media over and over again. You did all those things, so you knew there was no point in lying to yourself anymore - you liked Jake Sim. 
It didn’t help that he was always kind to you, never making you feel stupid for not understanding something in your tutoring sessions and being patient enough to explain the same thing over and over again. He always paid attention to small things, which never failed to make your heart race, like asking after your aging cat’s condition after you’d told him he had a health check-up over the weekend or stocking up on your favorite snack the week after you’d told him about it. He’d also immediately picked up on your habit of teasing the people you felt comfortable with and you loved how he returned it tenfold. It was as much fun debating with him over nothing and making him shut up with your senseless arguments as it was being rendered speechless when he came up with the perfect retort. 
And of course, there was no denying that Jake was ridiculously attractive. There were times you got so caught up in the way his lips moved as he spoke or the way his fingers looked as he pointed at numbers on the page that your mind completely blanked out and you stopped listening to his words for a few seconds. You didn’t know what to make of his small chuckle and smirk when he noticed your gaze fixated on him, but you knew it wasn’t good for your heart. And let’s not even get started on the fact that sitting so close to him meant you could smell the lingering scent of his cologne every single time.
Even now, with flushed cheeks and hair slicked back with sweat, you want to run onto the field and give him a big smooch on his cheek, telling him you were proud of him for scoring that goal.
But even though you were getting closer and he had offered for you to come watch his practice, you squashed down as best as you could any hope that he might feel the same way about you. Even if he insisted he was bad with girls, Jake was popular at school, and you were sure there were many other girls who had a crush on him - so why would he like you of all people?
Sunghoon’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Every time he scores, he acts like it’s the first time he’s ever done it,” he said, chuckling and shaking his head at his friend’s over-dramatic antics. The coach was trying to get Jake to calm down so that the game could resume.
“He’s so cute,” you said, voice quiet, before you could stop yourself. But as soon as the words were out, you realized what you’d done, and your eyes doubled in size as you turned to look at Sunghoon. He had whipped his head to look at you, too, and his eyes were just as big as yours. Then, he burst into laughter, and you hoped the Earth would suddenly open beneath your feet and swallow you whole. 
When his surprise had subsided, Sunghoon turned to you again, an incredulous but amused glint in his eyes. “Did you just call Jake cute?”
You crossed your arms over your chest, slightly frowning as you avoided Sunghoon’s gaze. “I just meant, you know, it’s cute how excited he got. I didn’t say he was cute,” you mumbled, knowing you were doing a poor job of defending yourself.
“That’s exactly what you said, though. You said, and I quote, He’s so cute.” You glared at Sunghoon. Who knew he would only become talkative once it came to teasing you about Jake? 
His expression softened slightly when he realized you might actually be upset about this, and he turned his attention back towards the field, smile growing when he found his friend. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything.”
“There’s nothing to be said anyway.”
“Oh? So you don’t mind if I tell Jake that you have the biggest, fattest crush on- hmph!”
You’d cut Sunghoon off by pressing your palm to his mouth, mustering the most menacing look you could to scare him off. “I do not,” you said firmly as you moved your hand away from him.
“Sure, you don’t,” he replied, chuckling. Clearly, your most menacing look wasn’t so menacing.
“I get why Jake’s so annoying now, it’s because he’s friends with you.”
Sunghoon raised an amused eyebrow at this. “He might be annoying, but he’s also cute, right?”
“Shut up!” you shrieked immediately, but you couldn’t stop the grin forcing its way onto your lips.
“Just saying,” Sunghoon said, and you laughed together. Maybe you should’ve been more worried about Jake’s literal best friend finding out you had a crush on him, but you somehow trusted Sunghoon not to blabber about it. Whether because he was nice or because he wanted to watch you struggle with your feelings, you weren’t sure, but at least you felt your secret was safe with him.
You looked back at the field, and just as your eyes found Jake, you saw him turn his head away. Had you seen him just seconds prior, you might have noticed the crease in his eyebrows as he watched you and Sunghoon laugh together. Sunghoon isn’t that funny, he thought, what could you be laughing so hard about?
He didn’t understand the sudden weight in his heart at the sight of you and his friend getting along so well. This was his whole plan after all - force some proximity between you and Sunghoon so that you could talk and hopefully make your feelings clear to each other after some time. Clearly, it was working. So why was it bothering him so much? 
He had to turn his attention back to the game, so he could only ruminate over it for five seconds, but for the remaining thirty minutes, he could barely focus on anything. Whenever he glanced back at you and Sunghoon, you were both looking at him and not talking to each other, and that somehow bothered him even more. 
He used his time in the lockers to get out of the weird mood he was in - whatever was going on between you and Sunghoon, he didn’t want to ruin it by being grumpy. So when he came back out and found the two of you waiting for him at the bus stop, he put on his best smile. 
Having you around made his usual Tuesday afternoon with Sunghoon more fun - after years of friendship, Sunghoon ignored most of his jokes and could tune the sound of his voice out, but you still laughed at everything he said, and his heart swelled with pride every time he made you laugh.
It was only a ten-minute bus ride from the school to the ice rink so you still had twenty minutes to spare before Sunghoon’s lesson started. As always after soccer practice, Jake was famished, so you stopped by a convenience store and got more snacks than you really needed.
You sat next to Sunghoon and across from Jake at a picnic table in front of the ice rink, watching the boy in front of you with fascination as he gorged himself on banana milk and chocolate snacks.
“God, how long has it been since you last ate?” you asked with genuine concern in your voice. Sunghoon followed your gaze towards Jake, only then noticing his friend’s feral behavior as if this was a normal occurrence for them.
“Like three hours,” Jake answered. “I’m starving. So hungry I could eat Sunghoon.”
When he looked up, you were both peering at him with furrowed eyebrows and bewildered expressions on your faces. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Do you mean that Sunghoon is a horse?” you asked.
Jake mirrored your confused expressions. “What? No, why would I say that?”
“The saying goes, so hungry I could eat a horse, dumbass,” Sunghoon chimed in.
“Why would I eat a horse?” Jake replied, shaking his head and chuckling at you and Sunghoon like you were the ones who had gotten a basic idiom wrong.
“Why would you eat me?” Sunghoon bit back, sounding almost offended.
“It’s just a saying, dude.”
Half-an-hour and two whole packets of biscuits later, you and Jake sat side-by-side on the benches, watching Sunghoon as he did his warm-ups on the ice. This was your first time seeing a professional ice skater and you were transfixed, to say the least. He was just skating across the rink and rolling his arms and neck to get the muscles moving, but it all seemed so effortless and elegant that you couldn’t help but watch with your mouth slightly open, eyes eager to keep up with Sunghoon’s figure.
You were so mesmerized that you had no idea Jake was practically burning holes into the side of your face. Eyes narrowed and nose scrunched in disgust, he couldn’t believe you were enjoying the show in front of you that much. “He’s not even doing anything special right now, you know,” he said, but it only made him realize that when Sunghoon did start doing cool stuff, you’d like it even more.
Your head barely budged in Jake’s direction as you answered him, and your eyes certainly didn’t leave Sunghoon. “Really? It already looks so cool, though.” Jake scoffed, but that still didn’t get your attention, which made him scoff again. He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned like a child whose parent wasn’t paying attention to their drawing. 
“Cooler than me?”
Finally, you look at me, Jake thought, and his frown immediately dissipated into a grin when your eyes met. But judging by the teasing way your lips curled up, he already knew he wasn’t going to like your answer.
“Cooler than you,” you replied before turning your attention back to the rink.
Jake leans back with a pout, opting to glare at his friend instead of you. He tried to put himself in your shoes and figure out what it was about Sunghoon you liked so much that Jake didn’t also have. Devastatingly good looks? Check. Charming smile? Check. Cute dog? Check - Jake more so than Sunghoon. Brains? Okay, both of them lacked this. Good personality? Check - however, you needed months before Sunghoon revealed himself to you, whereas Jake was outgoing and was comfortable even with people he’d just met. 
So why was the bearer of your affection Sunghoon and not Jake?
And why did Jake even care that you liked his friend over him in the first place?
It wasn’t like Jake liked you - he couldn’t like a girl that his best friend liked - so why did this at all matter to him? If anything, the fact that you liked Sunghoon back should’ve been something to rejoice over. It had been, up until now, and Jake couldn’t figure out why. He couldn’t figure out this weird sensation that had plagued him in the soccer field and followed him to the ice rink as he watched you watch Sunghoon with amazement.
Jake was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even notice when you detached your eyes from Sunghoon, who was talking to his coach, and tilted your head at him. “Jake?” 
The boy only let out a low hum, still too upset to look at you.
An amused grin made your lips quirk up. “Are you pouting because I said Sunghoon was cooler than you?”
Jake scoffed, turning his head away from you. “No.”
A pause. “So you don’t mind if I go on and on about how elegant and beautiful ice skating is, while running after a ball and kicking it is the basis of the stupidest sport in the world?”
Jake glared at you, but it only made you smile more. “It’s not stupid.”
Despite himself, his pretend angry facade broke apart at the sound of your airy giggles. Jake didn’t think his ears had ever been graced with such a pretty sound before - he slapped himself mentally as soon as that thought crossed his mind. 
His heart did jumps and spins more impressive than Sunghoon’s when you reached a hand out to ruffle his hair, shaking your head at his behavior. For once, he was glad that you turned back to Sunghoon so that you wouldn’t see the bright blush spreading all over his face.
For the next hour, Jake put his weird feelings to the side and watched his friend practice his routine for his upcoming competition. Even he had to admit that Sunghoon looked pretty cool doing what he loved.
You told him you found it all the more impressive because you’d never skated before, so it looked unachievable to you, and an idea immediately formed in Jake’s mind. As soon as Sunghoon’s practice was over, he rushed over to his friend and asked if the two of you could join him on the ice. Sunghoon turned to his coach, who simply shrugged.
“I trust you to look after them,” she said. “Just make sure to be out when the hockey team gets here.”
Before you knew it, Jake was helping you tie up your ice skates (the sight of which made you faint-hearted) and both boys helped you onto the ice rink, each holding onto one of your hands as you tried not to freak out at the feeling of your knees being so wobbly. Sunghoon demonstrated how to move around the ice, and soon enough, you’d gotten the hang of it - but you still made sure to keep Jake at an arm’s length so you could grab onto him every time you lost your balance. Jake stayed by your side, smiling fondly at how excited you looked and cheering you on every time you took a step of your own. Sunghoon, on the other hand, seemed to find it funny to watch from afar and point and laugh every time you stumbled.
After some time, Sunghoon announced he was feeling hungry and decided to go eat some snacks, leaving you and Jake alone in the rink. The wink Sunghoon threw your way when Jake wasn’t looking let you know what his true intentions were, and you couldn’t believe Jake’s best friend had just become your wingman.
“Feeling ready to skate around the rink?” Jake asked. His boyish grin was contagious, and you found yourself matching it even though you were still nervous about moving around too much.
“If you help me,” you answered tentatively, looking at him worriedly as you held out your hand for him to take. The softness of his gaze as he smiled down at you made you want to melt into a puddle on the floor.
“Of course,” he said, taking your hand in his warm one. Your fingers intertwined as if out of second nature and you thought you finally understood why people said their hands were meant to hold someone else’s.
Being friends with an ice skater for such a long time meant Jake had acquired some skill, too, which is why he could so easily show you how to turn or pick up speed. Whenever you lost your balance, he was always quick enough to make sure you didn’t actually fall, picking you up before your backside could touch the ice. He found your frightened expression every time you thought you would fall absolutely adorable, but your pout and slight frown whenever he teased you were somehow even cuter.
He only let go of your hand after some ten minutes (neither of you had even begun to question Sunghoon’s whereabouts by then) when he came to stand in front of you, a serious expression on his face.
“I think you’re ready, Y/N,” he declared solemnly.
“Ready for…?” you asked, scared of whatever he had in mind.
He leaned in slightly and the sudden proximity took you aback, but he didn’t seem to realize. A mischievous smirk broke through his handsome features. “A race,” he whispered, then skated to one edge of the rink and motioned for you to follow him. Reluctantly, you did.
“First to the other edge has to…” he thought for a second, gazing at the ceiling. You wanted to be mad at him for proposing a race when you’d literally just learned how to skate, but how could you when he looked so cute and giddy, searching for the loser’s penalty? “Buy the other ice cream!”
Your eyes were probably the image of tenderness as you looked at him. “Deal,” you said, wanting to sound as playful as him but voice coming out soft. Since when had you fallen so hard for him?
You held each other’s gazes for a couple more seconds before both turning in front of you, getting ready for your race. Jake counted down from three, and your skating wasn’t so bad at first - until you got too cocky for your own good, trying to go at a pace you clearly couldn’t handle. Before you knew it, your knees betrayed you and you found yourself tripping over, your butt making a loud thump sound as it came into contact with the ice.
On your way down, you’d shrieked Jake’s name, and he was at your side in the blink of an eye, holding your shoulder and looking at you worriedly. The pain was immediate, and for a few seconds, you couldn’t answer him and reassure him that you were fine.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked to race, God Y/N I’m so stupid I’m so sorry are you okay I didn’t want you to get hurt-”
“Jake,” you squeaked.
“Yeah?”
“I’m okay, calm down,” you said when the pain subsided, managing a smile. “I’ll just have a sore butt tomorrow.” He chuckled at the word ‘butt,’ but you didn’t have it in you to roll his eyes at his childishness.
“Are you sure you’re okay? There’s an infirmary here-”
“I’m sure, Jakey-poo,” you teased, making him lose the concerned expression as he bore an unimpressed one instead.
“I guess you are fine if you can think to call me that. Come on, up!” he said as he stood up, reaching his hands out for you to take. Just as he helped you up, Sunghoon came sprinting and stood at the entrance to the rink.
“Is everything okay? I heard a yell,” he said, slightly out-of-breath with half a biscuit in his mouth. Guess he really was eating this whole time.
You and Jake laughed and shook your head at him, and you reassured him that everything was fine. 
“Good, ‘cause the hockey team’s here and we have to go anyway.”
There was a bus that took Sunghoon directly from the ice rink to his house, but you and Jake had to go back to the school to catch the one you usually took, which meant you had a forty-minute journey in front of you. And yet, Jake’s company made those forty minutes feel like five, and you found yourself disappointed when the bus neared your stop.
“If you want, we can still go walk Kiwi and Layla,” he offered shyly a few minutes before your stop, as if he’d read your mind. 
“I’d love to.” You watched as his small smile bloomed into a wider one.
“I’m glad,” he chuckled, relieved. “I was scared you’d be tired of me after spending the whole afternoon together,” he admitted, looking down at his lap with a bashful expression on his face. It wasn’t often that Jake looked timid like this, but whenever he did, your heart tripled in size.
“I don’t think I could get tired of you.” You were too shy to look him in the eye while you said this, but in your peripheral, you saw his grin get impossibly wider and his eyebrows raise. He bumped your shoulder with his, making the both of you burst into giggles.
You were still smiling long after you’d come home from your walk.
Unfortunately for Jake, forcing you and Sunghoon to sit together for ninety minutes hadn’t resulted in the two of you confessing your undying love for the other and getting together - clearly, his plan hadn’t worked very well. But Jake, instead of coming up with another strategy, decided he should just basically do the same thing again and hope it went better this time. 
Bro night had been a tradition for the past three years that the boys only very rarely broke, in cases of illness, filial obligations or important competitions the following day. This wasn’t any one of those cases, but Jake decided bro night must be slightly sacrificed that night - for your and Sunghoon’s sake. Years down the line, he knew you’d thank him.
This was why he tricked you into thinking you had been invited to bro night (you’d heard a lot about it and considered it an honor to be included) when really, he made Jay promise not to show at the cinema so that you and Sunghoon could be alone. The two of them would make up an excuse about not being able to make it on time and show up later at the diner (“If you want to set them up, shouldn’t we also leave them alone after the movie?” Jay had asked Jake over the phone, and Jake had been unable to explain why he didn’t want you to spend the whole night alone with Sunghoon).
“They ditched us,” Sunghoon had said in lieu of a greeting when you found him at the entrance of the cinema. He turned his phone screen towards you, showing you their group chat - Jay had had some sort of meeting at his school that had run late and Jake had to go to the vet suddenly because Layla kept making weird noises.
“Oh no, I hope she’ll be okay,” you said, voice laced with genuine worry.
Sunghoon just sighed. “I’m sure she will.” He knew what his friends were up to - it almost never happened that one of them was unable to make it to bro night, so two at once? They were clearly lying. He would make sure to tell Jake how worried sick you were about his dog’s fake illness later on just so his friend would feel extra guilty.
You had been looking forward to hanging out with Jake and his friends all day, so you were disappointed to know he wouldn’t make it until later. It wasn’t much comfort that the movie they had picked, some recent Marvel release, was one you were not at all interested in, and you couldn’t even obsess over Jake’s presence next to you instead of the movie because he wasn’t there. You’d have to sit with awkward, quiet Sunghoon for God knows how long - at least the cinema wasn’t much of a talking place. 
You declined his kind offer of sharing a big popcorn tub - you didn’t want to risk a cliché reaching-for-popcorn-at-the-same-time moment with Sunghoon, although you’d daydreamed and giggled about it happening with Jake earlier that day. Instead, you sipped grumpily on your Cherry Coke, watching the trailers for upcoming movies and discussing them with Sunghoon. (“I’m so excited for the Barbie movie,” he’d surprised you by saying. Maybe he wasn’t so bad.)
As the lights dimmed, announcing the imminent start of the movie, Sunghoon whispered something that completely changed your mind about Marvel. “It’s so stupid that Jake isn’t here, seriously. He’s been going on and on about going to see this movie since the trailer came out.” Suddenly, you’d never felt the need to pay attention to something more than this. 
Well, in your humble opinion, the film wasn’t anything to write home about. It was a lot of loud action scenes with some funny one-liners that, okay, you chuckled at. And the actors were hot. You could sort of see why Jake would enjoy Marvel movies, although you yourself liked films with more social commentary, such as Mean Girls or Bee Movie. You’d need to make Jake watch Twilight one of these days - you were sure he’d like the soundtrack, if nothing else.
At least, you and Sunghoon have something to talk about during your short walk to the diner. As you enter the restaurant, a familiar voice calling out your name catches you off-guard.
“Chaewon? I thought you didn’t work on Friday nights!” you exclaimed, letting your friend bring you into a hug. You gave her a once-over - she always looked so pretty in her work uniform, white t-shirt dress draping her body perfectly, apron cinching at her waist, and short pigtails under her 50’s style diner hat. If the blush spreading on Sunghoon’s cheeks at her sudden appearance was anything to go by, his thoughts might not have been too far from yours.
She pouted, taking your hands in hers and swaying them between the two of you. “I usually don’t, but Yunjin asked me to trade shifts and she always says yes when I ask her, so I felt bad saying no.” You nodded and she turned to Sunghoon.
“Hi, Sunghoon!”
“H-hi, Chaewon.”
“Where’s Jay and Jake?” she asked, looking behind the two of you. You’d told the group chat about your evening plans and a lot of freaking out had taken place. 
“Should be here any minute,” you sighed, and when she looked at you questioningly, you told her you’d explain later.
She sat you at a four-person booth by the window and brought you drinks (“On the house,” she’d said with a wink, but you weren’t sure this had been allowed by any of her superiors) for you to sip on while you waited for the others. Every time she was free, she came over to your table and gossiped about the customers. You did not miss the way Sunghoon’s face lit up whenever she approached you.
Jake and Jay see you before you see them. Jay, the only one with a driver’s license out of the three, had picked Jake up, and he was parking his car when Jake gasped loudly, making Jay jump. “I’m trying to park, man, can you be calm?”
“What’s she doing here?” Jake exclaimed, completely ignoring his friend.
Jay followed Jake’s gaze, but he wasn’t sure what his friend was going on about. All he saw was you, whom he recognized from pictures only, Sunghoon, and a waitress that seemed overly-friendly. “Who?” he asked.
“Chaewon,” Jake hissed, like her name was a curse. “She’s ruining our plan!”
Jay sighed. “First of all, this is your plan. Second of all, it was ruined from the beginning. And by that, I mean that your plan sucks, Jake.”
Jake clicked his teeth. “Whatever. Let’s just go,” he said, getting out of the car and heading straight for you. He made sure to give Chaewon a pointed look as he sat next to you in the booth, but she just seemed happy that more people had arrived. 
You bumped your knee into his to get his attention. “Hi,” you said with a smile.
He looked at you dumbly for a few seconds before Jay cleared his throat awkwardly. “Hi. This is Jay,” he said, tilting his head towards the boy but not taking his eyes off of you. You and Jay exchanged hey’s before Chaewon took your order, quickly giving it to the kitchen and scanning the room to make sure every table had what they needed, then headed back to your table. 
“Is Layla okay?” you asked Jake, worry making your brows furrow.
“Huh?” The sudden mention of his dog took him aback. Why wouldn’t she be okay?
“Layla?” you repeated, tilting your head. “Is she okay? You said you had to go to the vet.”
His eyes widened as he remembered his lie from earlier, and he started nodding frantically. “Oh yeah, yeah, she’s fine, we panicked over nothing,” he said with a nervous giggle. Jake was the worst liar Jay and Sunghoon had ever seen, but you were none the wiser.
“What about you, Jay? How was your school thing?” Sunghoon asked, turning to his friend with a glare and making him choke on his Coke.
“Oh, that was fine too, I guess,” Jay mumbled.
As expected, Jake and Chaewon were experts at leading the conversation, and Jay himself was pretty talkative. They all bounced off of each other naturally, and even Sunghoon knew how to throw in witty remarks now and there. You also participated, but you were more than happy just listening to them and laughing along. You tried not to think too much about how your knee would bump into Jake’s once in a while, or how he seemed to look at you every time he made a joke.
At some point, Chaewon had rushed over to your table, looking right at you with wide eyes and beaming. “Oh my God Oh my God Oh my God, Y/N, hat guy is here!” 
You instantly mirrored her expression. “Where where where?” you asked, lifting your body up to scan around the restaurant.
“Over there in the corner, but be discreet!”
You were not at all discreet as your eyes found said hat guy, noting with satisfaction that he was characteristically hatless, and you burst into laughter. “I can’t believe he’s here!”
“Right? Probably has the munchies or something,” Chaewon said, laughing along.
You only noticed then the perplexed looks all three boys were sending your way. “Who the heck is hat guy?” Jake asked, which only made you and Chaewon laugh harder.
“You wouldn’t get it,” she replied airily, waving Jake off as she made her way to a customer who had called for her. 
The boys turned to you and you shrunk in your seat at their attention. “Just a guy the girls and I find funny,” you explained, shrugging and glancing quickly at Sunghoon. If only he knew about all the times you and the girls had gossiped about him, even though he’d done nothing of importance.
When her shift was over, the first thing Chaewon did was take off her apron, then dragged you to the bathroom, where she drilled you for details about your cinema “date” with Sunghoon. 
“It was not a date, it just ended up being the two of us because the others couldn’t make it,” you insisted, but she wasn’t having it. “There’s nothing to say anyway. We got there, talked a bit, watched the movie, walked here, and that’s it.”
Chaewon sighed, shaking her head as she reapplied her lip gloss. A small smile made its way onto your lips. “I think he’s into someone else anyway.” 
You noticed how her hand faltered for a split second. “Oh yeah? Who?” she asked, trying to appear nonchalant, but you knew your friend too well. 
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” 
Unbeknownst to either of you, the discussion between the boys back at the table was not too different from yours.
“Bro, I’m literally going to kill you,” Sunghoon whisper-yelled even though you were way out of earshot already. “Do you know how awkward that was?”
“Just so you know, I had nothing to do with this,” Jay said. “I told him that putting two socially constipated idiots like you wouldn’t end well, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“Y/N’s not an idiot!” Jake immediately reacted.
“And I am?!” Sunghoon retorted.
Jay just rolled his eyes.
“You are, because this is the second time you’re alone together with the girl you like and you can barely make conversation with her.”
“For the last time, I don’t like her, I just called her cute once in freshman year-”
“Same thing!”
“Jake, I don’t know how many times I can tell you the same thing before you get it. I’ve been around Y/N enough to know I don’t like her like that, okay? We’ve had two classes where we sat together for a whole semester, and we’ve worked with other people in group projects. Not to mention, you’ve made me sit through one of your practices with her. She’s nice. She sends me the homework when I miss class. She even laughs at my jokes sometimes. And her dog is super cute. I’m sure we’d be better friends if we both didn’t have crippling shyness, but I don’t like her like that. I just don’t.”
“But how?!”
“What do you mean how? This sorta thing doesn’t have any sort of reasonable answer, you just do or you don’t. I don’t. Clearly, you do.”
Jake heard the last part of Sunghoon’s words, and promptly decided to ignore them. He had to understand this first - he’d figure out his feelings later. “This whole time, I thought you were just downplaying your feelings, ‘cause you’re an awkward asshole who doesn’t do emotions,” he said, eyes tightly shut and holding his head, the confusion making his brain hurt.
“Okay, ouch. But no, I wasn’t. I really don’t know what got into your head.”
“I know what got into his head,” Jay said. Both of his friends looked at him questioningly, so he went on. “When Sunghoon mentioned Y/N, you probably thought she was super cute too, Jake. But because of bro code and whatnot, you didn’t wanna show any interest. And then as you saw her around more, you probably liked her more, but you thought Sunghoon liked her, so you sort of gave him your crush on her instead of dealing with it. You lived vicariously through him, basically. Except you’re an idiot because he doesn’t even like her like that, so you could’ve shot your shot a long time ago already. I don’t know why you didn’t just listen to him, to be honest,” Jay finished, shrugging.
“You also thought he liked her!” Jake retorted.
“That’s besides the point. The point is that you’re stupid.”
“But- but, what about all those times you talked about her? I didn’t make those up!” 
Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “The most I ever said about her was something like, Y/N and I both forgot our textbook today, or Y/N brought cookies for the class because it’s her birthday. You were always the one to notice her everywhere and go, There’s your crush, or something.”
Jake sighed, defeated. He could admit Sunghoon was right about something, and he was wrong - but he hated that Jay was also right. Had he really managed to bury his feelings for you all these years just for what he thought was Sunghoon’s sake? Sure, he was a loyal friend, but that felt a little much.
“Whatever,” he mumbled, recoiling from his friends’ expectant gazes and taking a sad bite of his cheeseburger. “It’s not like she likes me back, or anything.” 
He watched in confusion as Sunghoon let out a loud groan, screwing his eyes shut and taking his head in his hands as if it hurt. “This is so frustrating, I’m going to kill myself.”
Jake turned to Jay for some sort of explanation to their friend’s sudden suicidal thoughts, but Jay just looked back at Jake with disgust. “When did you become so dumb? I swear you didn’t use to be like this,” he said, shaking his head in disappointment.
Jake’s eyes flickered between his two friends in utter dismay. “What?”
“Jake,” Jay started. “Do you really, honestly, genuinely think Y/N doesn’t like you?”
The boy leaned back in his seat with a pout. “Yeah,” he mumbled.
Sunghoon’s head whipped up at this. Jake gulped at the intense glare his friend fixed him with - he’d never looked so angry with him, and it made Jake wonder what on Earth he could have said or done that made Sunghoon so upset. “Why?” he asked simply, but the frustration was evident in his voice.
Your diary popped up in Jake’s head. What he had read was clear. Of course, the entry dated from over a month ago now, but why would your feelings have changed since then? Jake sighs deeply, getting ready to reveal to his friends what he’d seen, but then he sees you and Chaewon emerging from the bathroom. “They’re coming back,” he mumbled.
It was Sunghoon and Jay’s turn to sigh. “Just pay attention to her, Jake, okay?” Jay instructed, giving his friend an intent look.
“I already do,” Jake replied, frowning.
“No, really pay attention to her. Then use your pea-sized brain for once in your life, and maybe you’ll realize something.”
A strongly-worded reply was on the tip of Jake’s tongue, but all thoughts of violence and murdering his friend were replaced by images of rainbows and pretty flowers when you smiled at him. He felt like the biggest of idiots for liking you so much and only realizing it now.
“Hi,” he said dumbly as you found your seat next to him again, then stole a french fry from you even though he had many left himself. When you gasped at his audacity, he just giggled.
“Hey!” you exclaimed in protest before stealing a fry back. 
If you hadn’t been so caught up in your little world, you’d have noticed the knowing look your three friends exchanged and their simultaneous eye roll. 
The following Monday, you decided to have your tutoring session at your house instead of Jake’s. His mom was away at a convention for the week, so you’d have to take the bus anyway - since your house was two stops earlier, you offered to switch it up for once. Jake had never actually been inside your house and was curious to see what it was like, so he eagerly agreed. 
Kiwi was happy to see him and followed the two of you around the house as you gave Jake a quick tour before going up to your room. When you reached the top landing, you realized that Kiwi was still at the bottom of the stairs and was looking up at you expectantly. “Is she not allowed upstairs?” Jake asked.
“Usually not, but I let her come up when my mom’s not here. Come on Kiwi! It’s okay!”
Kiwi didn’t need to be told twice - she trudged her little body up the stairs, and you couldn’t help but giggle at her adorableness. “She’s so cute,” you cooed, looking at your dog with a huge smile on your face.
“She really is,” Jake agreed, but when you turned your head to face him, he wasn’t looking at Kiwi - he was looking straight at you, a softness in his eyes that made your stomach turn. He snapped out of it when he noticed your round, surprised eyes, and cleared his throat. “So, where’s your room?” he asked, looking around the hallway and avoiding your gaze.
“Over there,” you replied, fighting the smile that tried to make its way to your lips as you headed towards your room, Jake and Kiwi following right behind. 
You told Jake to wait for a second as you went to get a second chair. When you came back, he was standing in front of your shelves, upper body slightly bent forwards to observe all the decorations and framed pictures closer. You placed the chair next to your desk then joined him, answering all the questions he had about the items on your shelves. Who’s this? When was this? Where did you get this? In his defense, you really did have a lot of things - you were trying to get rid of your hoarding habits, but you got attached to every small thing that held some sort of significance. You went to sit at the edge of your bed and just watched him, his eyes glinting with curiosity.
It reminded you of the first time you’d been to his house, how upset he’d seemed when you talked about his baby pictures and how you hadn’t wanted to risk looking at all the stuff in his room. You were also curious about things like that, and you wondered once again what had bothered him so much. The question was burning your tongue - although you were nervous to ask it, not wanting to upset Jake once more, you now knew him well enough to know he wasn’t the type to stay mad for long. 
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” Jake replied, fingers toying with your favorite Littlest Pet Shop figurine you had kept from when you were eight.
“Why didn’t you want me to look at your baby photos that one time?”
Jake paused at your words. He stood up straight and set the figurine back on the shelf. He glanced at you before walking over to your bed and taking a seat next to you, leaning back on his palms while you rested your hands underneath your thighs. 
“You probably noticed I don’t mention my dad, right? Or the fact that he’s never home?” 
You nodded in response. You had noticed it, but you’d never brought the topic up in case it might be sensitive. Jake sighed. “He passed away when I was six.”
You turned your head towards him. To your surprise, his face remained expressionless - you couldn’t detect any sort of sadness or anger in his features, as if he was just reciting a fact. His uncharacteristic numbness upset you even more than any tears could have. 
He met your gaze and gave you a small smile. “I was so young that I only have very vague memories of him, like playing soccer together in the backyard or a trip to the beach with my parents and my brother. I only remember his face and his voice from the photos and videos my mom has shown me.” He sighed again, shifting forwards and resting his hands in his lap, fiddling with his fingers. “So when I see these pictures, they sort of just remind me of what I’ve lost? I really don’t like lingering on them. I sort of just ignore them every time I walk up or down the stairs.”
“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have mentioned them if I’d known-”
Jake is quick to shake his head. “No, no, don’t be sorry. You couldn’t have guessed.” You want to comfort Jake in some way, thank him for telling you something so personal, but you’re not sure what words to use - so, instead, you take one of his hands in yours and bring it to your lap, then cover it with your other one. Your eyes meet for a second - he looks slightly taken aback at first, but then, his eyes drift down to your joined hands, and a small blush spreads on his cheeks.
“I’m- I’m okay, really. Like I said, it happened so long ago that I’m used to not having a dad now. It almost feels like it’s always been that way, which makes it even weirder to think it wasn’t. It’s just… It feels weird to miss someone I barely remember so much, you know?”
You nodded and let out a low hum. “I do know.” Jake tilted his head at you, silently asking you to go on. “It’s different, but I get that feeling of missing something you barely remember. I have these blurry memories of my parents being happy together and the three of us being a happy family, and then all of a sudden it’s hearing arguments from my room and my dad moving out, and they’re asking me, Do you wanna live with mom or dad?”
You watched as Jake moved his hand slightly, intertwining your fingers together and squeezing your hand. “I was older than you were when they divorced, so I guess I have more memories to hold onto, but they hurt more than anything.” You let out a deep sigh. “My dad cheated, so it’s not like I wished my mom had stayed with him, but I was too young to understand what was happening. I just wanted my parents together again.” 
When you lifted your head to look at him, he met your gaze, and his eyes were so soft yet so intense, like he was seeing right into you. Then he chuckled. “Do you ever get jealous of other people’s parents?” he asks, a shy smile playing on his lips.
“All the time,” you admitted with a chuckle, relieved to find out you weren’t the only one. “Yena has been blessed with these like, practically perfect parents that are still in love after twenty years, never argue and have a healthy relationship with all of their kids. I’m so in awe every time I see them.”
“Sunghoon’s parents are like that. I feel terrible, but every time they come to cheer him on at his competitions, I just get so jealous, wishing I also had three people coming to see my games and not just two. And I always feel so silly for feeling that way.”
“You’re not silly for that, Jake,” you said, and the honesty in your voice seemed to take him aback slightly. A grin spread on your lips. “You may be silly for other things, but not for that,” you teased, making him chuckle. “I can be your third person, if you want,” you said softly, lightly bumping your shoulder against his.
His eyes seemed to light up at your words, and your smile couldn’t help but get wider at his reaction - that was, until he raised an eyebrow, almost defiantly. “Yeah? I thought you found soccer boring,” he said with a playful smirk.
“It’s not boring if you’re the one playing,” you replied. A small noise of surprise escaped his throat before he could help it, not expecting you to be so forward, and you both burst into giggles. 
He cleared his throat when you both calmed down and stood up straighter, trying to put on a cool front. “Of course it isn’t.” He turned his head to look out the window, and the sight of the sunlight perfectly hitting his features and turning his dark brown eyes a hazel color almost took your breath away. “It’s really nice out,” he suddenly said. He turned back to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “How about we ditch the tutoring for today and go out?”
His eyes drifted down to your lips, watching as a smile tugged at the corners of your own. “I’m in.”
That was how you found yourselves sitting at a bench in the park close to your house, eating ice cream and watching Kiwi and Layla play together. You tried each other’s ice cream, and you regretted your choice of simple vanilla and strawberry as soon as Jake’s mango ice cream touched your tongue. Your eyes widened at the amazing taste - it felt like you had bit into an actual mango. 
“Good, right?” Jake asked, chuckling at your reaction.
“What the heck, yours is so much better than mine,” you mumbled, pouting at the ice cream in your cup like it had personally hurt you.
Jake thought for a second, looking back and forth between your upset expression and his own cup. “Wanna switch?”
Your heart was screaming yes, but your brain was screaming no. You tried your best to appear genuine when you smiled at him. “No, don’t worry about it. I still like mine.” You looked at him as you scooped another spoonful into your mouth as if to prove to him you were happy with your choice, even going so far as to hum in delight.
Jake just chuckled and shook his head at you, taking your cup and giving you his anyway. You were about to protest until he started eating your ice cream, imitating your previous hum. You quietly accepted the exchange, smiling as you tasted the mango ice cream again and trying to ignore the fact that Jake hadn’t switched the spoons with the cups, so you were using his and he was using yours. 
As you ate in silence, occasionally chuckling at your dogs’ antics, Jake stole some glances at you. He wasn’t sure why you looked so much prettier today than all the times he’d seen you before. Or maybe you were just as pretty as you’d always been, and he was just finally letting himself admit it. 
He may have had many friends, but there weren’t many people Jake was truly himself around. He always felt the need to be this friendly, outgoing guy that made it seem like everything was going well in his life, but with you, he felt like it was okay to stop pretending. He felt like it was okay to ask for help, like it was okay to reveal the darker parts of his life.
Now that Jay and Sunghoon had practically forced him to see the truth, Jake didn’t know what to do about his feelings for you. He finally understood why he always looked forward to your tutoring sessions, why he was so excited whenever he walked past you in the hallways, and why he was so bothered about you and Sunghoon getting along.
Sunghoon. Because even if Jake now knew that he liked you, he also knew that you liked someone else. And what was the point of letting himself fall for you even more when there was no happy ending in sight for him? He’d only get hurt in the end.
Just as the thought hit him, you turned to look at him and meet his gaze, a soft smile on your lips. Every time you smiled at him like that, Jake felt like he was watching a movie. Everything happened in slow-motion, with flowers falling around you and violins playing in the background. Jake almost felt sick, knowing he was only the second lead in your romance movie. He was the stupid werewolf and Sunghoon was the vampire that glistened in the sun and got the girl. (You had convinced him to watch Twilight, saying it was a mandatory watch to understand who you were as a person. Of course, Jake had streamed it that same night. The soundtrack was surprisingly good.)
Your voice snapped him out of his downward-spiraling thoughts. “You know, I almost got scared that Sunghoon would appear out of thin air and start hanging out with us.”
Jake tried not to sneer at the mention of his best-friend-turned-number-one-nemesis. “Why? Wouldn’t you like that?” he mumbled, clearly doing a poor job of seeming unaffected.
You frowned, then lowered your head, focusing your gaze on your almost-finished ice cream. “No, I’d rather if it was just the two of us.” Jake’s eyes widened, unsure if he’d heard that correctly or not. But before he could say anything in response, you spoke again. “It’s just, he was there when I came to watch your practice and when I thought we were all going to see a movie together, it was just him and me. You would’ve liked that movie, by the way,” you said, looking up at Jake with a smile.
Jake’s heart swelled. He wasn’t sure what what you were saying all meant, but unconsciously, his lips mirrored yours and he smiled back at you. Until he remembered you didn’t like him, and his smile fell immediately. Obviously, you had no idea what he was thinking, so his sudden stony expression sent alarms ringing through your head.
“It’s not that I don’t like him, or anything,” you said, panicked, and Jake had to keep himself from scoffing, “it’s just that- you know. It’s nice to hang out with you outside of tutoring sessions,” you finished, mumbling. 
Jake had no idea what you were saying, so he stayed quiet, watching as Kiwi and Layla ran around in circles. You liked Sunghoon, so why would you rather hang out with Jake and not him? You weren’t making any sense. 
You, on the other hand, were not liking Jake’s uncharacteristic silence. In hopes of getting his attention, you crossed one leg over the other, shifting on the bench to face him. “Plus, don’t you think he and Chaewon really hit it off the other night? I think that was the most I’ve ever heard him talk,” you said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. To your dismay, it didn’t work. You didn’t know whether he was sulking or genuinely upset - all you knew was you desperately wanted to see a smile on his pretty face again.
“Jakey?” you called out, and your voice sounded so small it hurt his heart. He hummed in response, only glancing at you for a fraction of a second. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” he replied, scooping the last of the ice cream in his mouth. As he tasted the strawberry and vanilla flavors, he couldn’t believe he had given his precious mango ice cream up all for a girl who didn’t even like him back. What a fool.
“I don’t know, you’re all- weird, all of a sudden, for lack of a better word.” You searched for some sort of an answer in his eyes, but he supplied you with none. 
Jake sighed deeply. He could feel the ugly mix of emotions in his belly turning into anger - anger at what exactly, he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to lay it on you. “It’s just the heat, it’s making me tired,” he said. Sure, it was warm for a May afternoon, but it wasn’t that hot. But you didn’t want to push it.
“Should we go home?“ you offered, and the worry in your voice made him feel even worse. He just couldn’t understand why you were being so nice to him. He knew you probably just thought you were looking after a friend, but he'd rather you not care about his well-being and leave him be. He didn’t need one more reason to like you - he already had plenty of those. 
He nodded, mustering as convincing a smile as he could. “Sure.” 
The walk home was much quieter than usual. You could feel that Jake was keeping something to himself, and it was killing you; but whatever it was, you wanted him to tell you when he felt ready and not feel forced to. Your hand was aching, desperate to reach out and grab his as you had done before, but you were afraid that would only push him away even further. So you stayed silent most of the time, only commenting on the things around you or speaking a thought out loud when you thought it might make Jake smile. Every time his lips curled up, even ever so slightly, your heart swelled with relief.
Unbeknownst to you, Jake was making up his mind. He knew he needed time away from you to gather his feelings before he could see you as a friend again. 
When you reached your house, Jake waited outside with the dogs as you grabbed his bag he’d left upstairs. You hugged goodbye as always, but this one was different - it lasted a few seconds longer than usual, and you could swear Jake held you tighter than he normally would. It felt like he was saying goodbye for more than just a couple days.
You didn’t understand why it made your heart ache so much.
The next day, when you walked past Jake and Sunghoon in the hallway, Jake barely glanced at you and only tilted his head in your general direction instead of his usual wide grin and wave. You were so shocked by his sudden snubbing that you halted in your steps right away, looking behind you at his retreating figure. You locked eyes with Sunghoon, who seemed just as confused as you felt. He shrugged at you before returning to his friend and nudging his arm.
On Wednesday morning, you got a text from Jake that he couldn’t make it to your tutoring session that afternoon because of an extra soccer practice to prepare for their game that weekend, something he had never mentioned before.
Thursday and Friday weren’t very different, and your heart became heavier with every time you walked past each other and he acted like you weren’t even there. You desperately wanted to know what you’d done wrong, why he’d started to reply in one-word sentences instead of his usual voice messages and tons of emojis, but no matter how much you cogitated, you couldn’t figure it out. Even when you asked him how his game had gone, a dry Good stared back at you from your phone screen.
That Saturday, your girlfriends came over. Yena had brought beads and strings to make accessories out of, and the mere sight of them had brought fond memories back to all four of you - during your first sleepover in freshman year, this was the exact activity that had kept you occupied for hours. 
You got started on them immediately, each finding a comfortable spot in your room as soft music played in the background. You lay on your bed while Chaewon and Yena took over the floor and Hyewon sat at your desk.
“I’m gonna make one of those phone accessories,” Yena said excitedly, reaching for the biggest, most colorful beads.
“I’m gonna make couple bracelets for Jaemin and I,” Hyewon said somewhat shyly but beaming. Yena and Chaewon groaned at her words, but they gave you an idea.
“You guys are vomit-inducing,” Yena replied, and if you didn’t know your friend any better, just going off the tone of her voice, you’d have thought she was being serious. Hyewon just rolled her eyes, used to this daily slander she received simply for being in a relationship.
“I’ll make something for my little sister,” Chaewon butted in, and you and Yena simultaneously ‘aww’ed. 
“So it’s aww when Chaewon does it for her sister, and it’s vomit-inducing when I do it for my boyfriend?” Hyewon exclaimed, appalled.
“Little sisters are cute. Boyfriends are gross,” Yena replied matter-of-factly, making you giggle.
“Whatever. You guys are just jealous that you’re dying alone and I’m not. What are you making, Y/N?” she asked before Yena could retort again. The two exchanged a glare as you thought over your answer.
“I’m not saying,” you replied with a giggle. 
“She’s making one for Jake, that evil wench,” Chaewon immediately said, making your eyes widen. Yena gasped dramatically while Hyewon smiled at you.
“How did you know?” you asked Chaewon.
“Just your face. You’re so obvious,” she snickered. 
“You’re a traitor, Y/N!” Yena exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at you, and you hid your face in your hands, muttering an apology. “Wasting time and energy on a boy.”
“Don’t listen to her, Y/N. Whatever it is you make, he’ll be super happy you thought of him. Then he’ll finally ask you out and you’ll live happily ever after, just like me and Jaemin,” Hyewon said with a serene smile on her face. Chaewon and Yena exchanged a look, then faked a gagging sound. “So bitter,” Hyewon muttered, shaking her head at your friends.
“I’m not sure about that,” you sighed. “I just want to be friends again. He’s been ignoring me all week.”
All three snapped their heads up at you. “He’s been ignoring you?” Yena echoed, and you meekly nodded. “Give me his phone number. No, give me his address. I’m going there right now,” she said, already sitting up.
“Gosh, Yena, it’s fine,” you said, gesturing at her to sit back down, laughing at your friend’s seriousness. “I’ll see him on Monday anyway, I can just see how he behaves then.”
Yena didn’t look convinced, but she yielded anyway. “If he hurts you, I swear I’ll give him a stern talking to. And a broken nose.” You laughed as you thanked your friend. 
Hyewon asked for more details about this Jake situation, so you filled your friends in about his mysterious behavior that week. Chaewon had been the only one to see it firsthand, when you’d walked to a class together and Jake had walked past you without saying anything. You told them about his sparse answers to your texts, his lack of response to the TikToks you sent him. He wasn’t even reacting to your BeReals anymore. It was just such a complete switch-up in attitude that you had no idea what to make of it. They tried to come up with reasons for it, but it really didn’t make much sense. It just felt like he suddenly decided to hate you - or maybe you had been interpreting everything wrong, and the two of you had never been friends in the first place. 
“This is so confusing,” Chaewon suddenly said, seeming lost in thought. “I thought for sure that he liked you.”
“Liked… me?” you echoed.
“Yeah. Just the way he was when we were at the diner. He kept looking at you and was always smiling and blushing whenever you talked to him. Also the way Jay and Sunghoon were behaving. Boys are so obvious when their friend likes someone, it’s like they’re trying to fumble it for him. And I mean, anyone with functioning eyes can see that you like him too, so I don’t know why he’s doing this all of a sudden.”
Yena sighed. “Boys are stupid.”
“That, they are,” you agreed, sighing as well and returning your attention to your craft. Maybe a simple gift like this wouldn’t fix what was going on between you and Jake, but you had to at least try. You couldn’t let go of your friendship so easily.
Even though it seemed as though he could.
Nothing changed the next week. On Monday, you woke up to a text that pulled your heart down into your stomach.
jakey-poo i think we should stop tutoring each other for now
For an hour as you ate breakfast and got ready for school, you ruminated over your answer, only to ask him a simple why? in the end.
jakey-poo i’m to busy w soccer practice and other stuff we can start again when exams are near
you oh okay
You felt pathetic, but you had no idea what to say. You couldn’t force him into this, and you definitely couldn’t show up at his house and demand a better explanation. If you were Yena or Chaewon, maybe you could - but you weren’t. You couldn’t even bring yourself to ask him if the two of you could still hang out outside of that, so scared you were for his inevitable rejection.
During the week, you tried to find a time when you could give him your small handmade gift, but Jake wasn’t even looking you in the eyes anymore. The only time you made eye contact with him over those five days was on Wednesday at lunch - as you walked into the cafeteria, you scanned the whole room, unconsciously searching for him. When you did, he was already looking at you - he was close enough for you to see the slight frown in his eyebrows, the lack of the usual glint in his eyes. But as soon as he’d seen you’d found him, he turned away. You only looked away when Chaewon called out your name.
In the few classes you had together, he always slipped away before you could get to him. Him walking past you like he couldn’t even see you broke your heart a little bit more every time, and by Friday, you had completely given up. Your friendship with Jake was over, and you had no idea why, no idea who or what to blame.
Monday and Wednesday afternoons felt empty now that you had gotten used to spending them with him, and you couldn’t even walk Kiwi without missing him. He seemed to miss Jake and Layla too - he’d sometimes tilt his head at you as if asking where your new friends were, and when you got to the park, he’d gloomily stick to you instead of running around like he usually would, especially when Layla was there.
The worst part was at night, when your thoughts kept you up. You’d reread your and Jake’s text conversations, wondering what went so wrong so quickly, warm tears spilling from your eyes out of sadness and tiredness. On those nights, you’d sneak Kiwi up to your room and let him cuddle up to you in your bed. You’d comfort each other that way.
You had no idea that a couple kilometers away, Jake lay in bed sleepless as well, Layla at the edge of his bed and whining in her sleep. You had no idea that missing you had carved a deep hole in his chest.
Enough was enough.
It had been days since Layla had last seen Kiwi, and to a young pup like her, that felt like eternity. Lately, Jake hadn’t seemed happy to go on walks with her like he used to, and he barely had any energy to play with her. She also hadn’t seen you in days, and she wondered if that had anything to do with Jake’s recent despondency. 
But thankfully, Layla was a smart girl, so she knew exactly what to do to fix this dire situation. On Friday, she waited for Jake to come back from soccer practice and take her on a walk. As soon as they reached the sidewalk outside of their house, she pulled on her leash in the opposite direction of their usual route. Jake tried pulling her the other way, but she wouldn’t budge.
“We’re going that way, Layla,” Jake said, amused by his dog’s sudden stubbornness. Layla barked back. “Come on!” 
She was really not moving. “We never go that way,” Jake said, sighing. “That way’s the-”
That’s when he realized. Layla wanted to go to the park you went to with Kiwi. “But what if we ran into them?” Jake asked. 
Layla barked again. She wanted to say, That’s exactly why I want to go there, but of course Jake didn’t understand. He sighed again and obliged, letting Layla lead the way. She had a good feeling that she’d finally see her friends again today. 
Jake’s heart started beating faster with every step he took, knowing that you might be out right now, too. When he’d seen you at school, you’d seemed as sad as he was, and he felt terrible for perhaps being the reason behind it - but he didn’t know what else to do. He could either spare your feelings or his. If this was hurting you, he knew you’d move on quickly enough anyway - and when he came to terms with being just friends with you, he’d come back, and everything would be perfect like it used to be. Foolproof plan.
If there was one thing Jake had learned from the tutoring sessions with you, it was that the weather always reflected the protagonist’s inner thoughts. If they were upset, it would be gray and rainy - if they were happy, it would be warm and sunny. Jake glared at the sun, just another reminder that he wasn’t the main character in this story. If he was, it would be thundering and lightning would be striking.
As if his life was a joke, two minutes after Jake and Layla had walked into the park, he saw you. At least you were facing the other direction, so you couldn’t see him, and he could redirect his route to avoid you. But he let himself indulge in the moment for a few seconds. You had laid out a picnic blanket for you and Kiwi and rested on your stomach with your elbows propping you up, reading a book. Kiwi slept peacefully next to you - this dog was the furthest thing from a guard dog Jake had ever seen. You kicked your feet up in the air, flip flops discarded to the side of the blanket. Jake was happy to see you like this, enjoying the warmth of this sunny May afternoon. 
He was about to walk away, but a sudden movement caught his eye. Two school kids started running to you, and before you could even register their presence, one of them snatched your flip flops and they both sprinted away, shrieking with laughter like two little devils. Where the hell were their parents?!
Without thinking, Jake started running after them, and so did Kiwi and Layla. 
“Hey! Come back here!” Jake yelled, hoping in vain that these kids would listen to someone older than them. Kiwi did his best, but his tiny legs didn’t allow for such a chase - Layla, barking loudly at the thieves, was the first to reach them, and she managed to scare them so much, they tripped over their feet. But unlike them, she was well-behaved, so she sat once her job was done and waited for Jake to arrive. 
“What are you two doing? You can’t just steal other people’s things!” he admonished, holding onto his knees as he tried to catch his breath.
Both kids were already teary-eyed. “We just wanted to play a prank, we’re sorry!” one of them quickly said, voice shaky.
“It’s not to me you should apologize, but to her,” Jake said, turning around to point in your direction. That’s when he noticed you sitting on your knees, hands covering your face as your shoulders trembled. “You made her cry!” Jake exclaimed, tone much angrier than seconds prior. “Let’s go,” he said, grabbing the kids by their shoulders and forcing them to keep up with his quick steps.
You didn’t notice their presence in front of you until Jake prompted them. At the sound of the all too familiar voice, you whipped your head up. Jake swore he heard his heart breaking when he saw your red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. You barely heard the kids’ apology, so amazed you were at suddenly seeing Jake.
“We’re sorry for stealing your flip-flops and making you cry,” the first one said.
“Sorry,” repeated the other one, handing you your shoes.
“Oh, right. Thanks, just don’t do it again,” you replied, sniffing as you took back your shoes.
“We won’t!” they replied in unison before running away once more.
Jake stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, unsure what to say. He watched you stare at your flip flops like you’d never seen them before in your life. “You’re not going to thank me for catching those delinquents?” he asked after a small while, chuckling slightly.
This made you look up at him. He gulped as your eyes met. Then, you burst into sobs again, and Jake started panicking. He crouched down to your level, first holding you by the shoulders then forcing your head out of your hands so he could wipe away your tears with the pads of his thumbs.
“No no no, why are you crying, Y/N?” he asked softly, pulling you into a hug.
You continued crying into his shoulder, ignoring Kiwi and Layla’s confused stares. “You- you- I haven’t seen you in ages!” you exclaimed.
Jake sighed. He didn’t understand why you were crying like this for him, all he knew was that he’d never felt so awful. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered into your hair, pulling your shaking body closer to him. “I’m sorry.”
You leaned back to glare at Jake, your bottom lip jutting out in discontent. “Do you even know how much I missed you?”
Jake held your head in his hands like it was the most precious thing in the world. Mouth agape in surprise, he looked at you with sad eyes. “You… you did?”
Your eyebrows creased. “Of course I did!” Another sob rippled through your body, and Jake took you back in his arms, wrapping them around your shoulders and resting his cheek against your hair. 
“I missed you too.”
“Then why did you do this?” you asked, voice breaking.
“Because I didn’t want to get hurt,” Jake whispered back. “But I didn’t think I’d hurt you. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”
You leaned back again, but this time, you looked confused rather than angry. His eyes were soft as they scanned your face and as he brushed strands of your hair back behind your ears. “Why would you get hurt?” you asked again, bringing your voice to the same volume as his.
Jake sighed and squeezed his eyes shut for a second, as if in pain, before opening them again and boring them into yours. “I like you so, so much Y/N. So much so that I don’t know what to do with myself. But I know that you don’t feel the same way, and I was scared that by staying by your side, I’d just fall in love with you even more and get hurt in the end. So I pushed you away because I didn’t know what else to do, but I’m so sorry I- You’re crying again?”
Your fists grabbed at the front of Jake’s t-shirt as sobs raked through your body once more. It was official - Jake was the stupidest person you’d ever met. And you were in love with him.
“Why are you crying?”
“Because I like you too, you idiot!” you yelled back. Your tears were probably staining his t-shirt, but you couldn’t care less. He liked you. Jake liked you.
You were too busy crying to see Jake’s eyes slowly widening in disbelief. “You what?!”
Gently, Jake pushed your shoulders back so he could look at you. Even with puffy eyes and a runny nose, you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. Pretty like an angel that had graced the Earth with her presence. “You what?” he repeated, just to hear you say it again.
“I like you, Jake. I’m so in love with you it's actually pathetic,” you said with a chuckle, looking down out of shyness. But when you looked back up, Jake’s eyes were going back and forth between yours, the expression on his face like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard but desperately hoped it was true.
As you locked eyes, both of your faces lit up with grins. You burst into laughter together, finding each other’s hands and intertwining your fingers together. Then Jake brought you back into his arms, holding tightly, as if he was scared you might disappear any second. Kiwi and Layla had long walked away to give the two of you some needed privacy.
In each other’s arms, you rocked side to side gently and laughed for no reason other than the incredible fact your feelings were reciprocated. “You stink, you know,” you suddenly said in-between giggles. “You sweat while you ran after those kids.”
“I sweat? You mean I swote, right?” Jake asked a pause.
You leaned back to look at Jake. “Swote?” you echoed, and he nodded. Your umpteenth smile made your cheeks lift. “You have to be kidding-”
“I am,” Jake cut off, mirroring your smile. “I just wanted to make you laugh.”
You gasped and lightly punched his chest before letting your body fall against his again. “You’re so silly,” you said, sighing in bliss at the sound of his giggles.
Then all of a sudden, Jake pulled away and looked at you, almost frightened. “What about Sunghoon?” 
“What about him?” you asked back, confused by Jake’s question.
“I thought you- Didn’t you- you know…”
You tilted your head at Jake, a small grin spreading on your lips again. “I don’t know.”
“I thought you liked him…” Jake mumbled, looking away with a pout.
Before you could stop it, a noise of confusion left your throat. You looked at Jake like he was insane. “I can barely have a conversation with Sunghoon, what made you think I liked him?”
Jake pursed his lips and let a resigned puff of air out of his nose. “I, um- Remember when we mixed our backpacks up?” he asked and you nodded, smiling at the fun memory. “I may have, um, I may have read… your… diary,” he admitted, voice getting quieter with each word. He dared a glance at you - you looked horrified, eyes wide and mouth agape. “And you wrote that you liked Sunghoon,” he finished with a whisper.
It was silent for a few seconds, and Jake was bracing himself for a slap to the face or your screams, until you did the last thing Jake expected you to do - you laughed. You laughed so hard and for so long that he got scared you had gone insane and this was the first part of your mental breakdown before you murdered him in cold blood for having invaded your privacy. He would’ve deserved it, he thought.
“I don’t- oh my God, Jake, I don’t- I don’t like Sunghoon. I never really have, or not in the way you think, I can’t- oh my God,” you explained in between giggles, trying to catch your breath but starting to laugh again every time you managed to compose yourself. Jake tried to laugh along, but he was too confused to do so properly.
“You’re not mad?” Jake asked, eyebrows furrowed with worry.
“No,” you replied, shaking your head and the last giggles out of your throat. “You read it ages ago, and we didn’t even know each other back then, there’s no point in being mad now. It’s just funny - I know exactly why you think I liked Sunghoon, but I didn’t. Not really. And even if I did, those feelings are nothing compared to the ones I have for you now,” you said, beaming. A blush spread on Jake’s cheeks, and you could tell he was trying (and failing) to contain a proud grin.
You explained to Jake the ‘character’ thing you and your friends had going on and that Sunghoon (and hat guy) just happened to be one of them - you watched as Jake narrowed his eyes and slowly nodded, trying to understand this concept that was so foreign to him. 
“You know, it all makes a lot more sense now,” Jake said when you were explaining. “It would’ve been weird for you to like Sunghoon when I was right there.” He smirked down at you as you playfully rolled your eyes. 
“Oh my God!” you suddenly exclaimed, startling Jake in the process. Dramatic as always, he put a hand over his heart and exhaled loudly. “I have something for you. For us, actually.” You reached into your bag and got out the two accessories you’d made for you and Jake. “These are for us to put on our backpacks, so that we don’t confuse them again. They also match.”
Jake’s eyes were fixated on the string of beads as you placed into his palm. “I tried to give it to you over the week, but…” 
A teardrop fell into Jake’s palms, and when you looked at him, you realized he’d started crying. “Jake?” you cooed softly, and he sniffled, wiping away the tears from his eyes.
As a response, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and buried his face in your hair. “Thank you. And I’m sorry. I promise you’ll never go a second without my undivided attention from now on,” he said, voice shaking with emotion, and you hummed happily.
“I wouldn’t expect anything else.”
He leaned back, and you were relieved to find the familiar puppyish grin on his lips. You gazed into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, and before he could stop himself, he grabbed your head in his hands and pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead. You raised your eyebrows in surprise, but when his face was back in front of yours, your eyes immediately drifted to his lips. They looked soft and plump and pink, and were utterly inviting. Every time you’d started daydreaming about kissing Jake, you’d stopped yourself, not wanting to over-indulge in your fantasies. But was this finally, really happening?
“Y/N?” Jake said quietly. You could swear his face was getting closer.
“Hm?”
“Will you be my girlfriend?”
Your face broke out into a grin. Without warning, you pressed your lips against Jake’s - initially just for a peck, but as soon as you started pulling away, Jake chased after your lips and trapped them into a kiss, a proper one this time. You’d never done this before, so it was naturally somewhat clumsy, but you and Jake were so giddy with excitement that you couldn’t care less. So what if you were smiling so hard, your teeth clashed against his, or you kept bumping noses? You were kissing Jake Sim. 
The second time around, he let you pull away to catch your breath, and you wished you could photograph the sight in front of you - Jake with flushed cheeks, closed eyes and a serene smile on his face. He was so pretty, and now, he was all yours.
When he opens his eyes and finds you looking at him, his smile widens. “I’ll take that as a yes?”
“Yes,” you echoed, laughing. You pressed your lips to his cheek before burying your face in the crook of his neck.
He hugged you to him and the sweet sound of his giggles filled your ears and your heart. “My girl,” he whispered, before leaning his head back, face to the sky, and screaming it loud enough for the whole park to hear. You tried to shush him, but you couldn’t stop laughing yourself out of sheer excitement. Layla and Kiwi came running back to you, barking happily and trying to lick your faces. 
“I cried so much today, my eyes are gonna be puffy tomorrow morning,” you said between giggles. 
Jake pressed his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. “I’ll make sure you never cry again, Y/N,” he said, and he sounded so genuine, you almost wanted to cry again right then and there.
The rest of the afternoon went by in a blur - while you and Jake kissed, laughed, talked, and hugged, hours that felt like minutes passed you by. Jake kept on looking at the accessory you made him, poking fun at you for knowing his favorite color even though he’d never mentioned it.
“It was a lucky guess,” you grumbled. “Your room’s walls are that color,” you said, pointing to a particular dark blue bead.
“I love it,” he replied with a kiss to your forehead.
As always, he walks you home - and this time, you can take his hand without any hesitation. Your mom had come home from work while you and Jake were out, and you found her in the kitchen, prepping some veggies for dinner. 
As soon as Jake introduced himself, a flash of revelation struck her and she shot you a knowing smirk. “So you’re Jake,” she said, and the boy glanced at you with amused confusion. “That one over there has been badgering me about you these past few weeks.”
Apparently, you agreeing to be his girlfriend had already gone to his head, because instead of looking surprised at your mom’s words, he slowly turned to you with an arrogant smirk gracing his lips. “Has she?”
Your mom nodded slowly. “Oh, yes.” Then her expression slowly morphed into something else as she remembered your red, puffy eyes from the other evening when you’d told her about what was going on with Jake. She raised her kitchen knife and pointed it straight to him, eyes narrowed. “If you ever hurt my daughter again, I’m putting you in the lasagna, young man.”
Jake gulped, smirk completely wiped off of his face. You just watched in amusement. “I- I won’t,” he stuttered, eyes fixed on the blade of the knife.
A wide grin reappeared on your mom’s face as she went back to cutting the vegetables. “Good!” 
Jake looked at you for some sort of explanation, but you simply shrugged. He’d just have to get used to your mom’s crazy. 
“You know, you’re just as handsome as she described,” your mom told Jake with a wink.
“Mom, please!” you exclaimed, cheeks burning with heat. You liked it better when she was threatening your boyfriend with a knife, but he was relieved by the new turn this conversation had taken.
“What else has she said?”
“Oh, you know, just your typical he’s so smart, he’s so cute, he’s so funny-”
“Okay, that’s it!” you cut in before your mom could spill more on you. You ignored Jake’s noises of complaint as you grabbed him by the shoulders and led him towards the door. “I think it’s time for you to go home, no?” 
“Y/N, come on!” Jake whined, giggling. 
“Why don’t you stay for dinner, Jake?” your mom offered, making you stop in your tracks. You stared wide-eyed at her but she just looked at Jake, wearing an inviting smile.
“Sure!” Jake beamed. “I just need to call my mom.”
“Oh, invite her along! I always make enough to feed an army, anyway.”
“Really?” Jake asked, incredulous. Since his brother had left for university, it had always been just he and his mom at the dinner table. The thought of sharing a meal with you and your mom filled his heart with warmth. 
“Yeah!”
Jake smiled giddily as he got his phone out. “Thanks, she’ll be stoked.”
Although you both wanted to help your mom, she urged you to stay outside with the dogs and enjoy the last rays of sunshine of the day, insisting she didn’t need any help. So you and Jake spent some time throwing sticks for Kiwi and Layla and giggling at their cuteness. Kiwi quickly got exhausted and came to lie down at your feet, but Layla was tireless. “Your dog, your responsibility,” you said as you sat down next to Kiwi, rubbing his tummy and watching Jake throw the stick over and over again for Layla.
Jake was as relentless as Layla, and every time she ran after the stick, he ran to you and pressed a kiss to another part of your face, making you giggle every time. Once on your forehead, once on your nose, once on your cheek, then the other, and once on your lips.
Then his mom rang the bell, and as your mom opened the door for her, the oddest thing happened - they called out each other’s name and hugged as if they were old friends. You and Jake exchanged a confused look before turning your attention back to them.
“What a coincidence!”
“Right! Such a small world, I can’t believe you’re my daughter’s boyfriend’s mom.”
“Boyfriend? Gosh, has he finally asked her out? I was going crazy seeing him moping around in his room!”
“Mom!” Jake yelled, face already reddening as you burst into laughter.
You joined them inside the house and set the table while your mom finished up dinner. Jake’s mom had brought a bottle of red wine as a gift, so she poured two glasses for her and your mom, but you and Jake stuck to Sprite. 
Apparently, they knew each other from some yoga class they both went to every Sunday - you found out this was the woman your mom often went out for lunch or drinks with. They were so excited to meet each other like this that they talked most of the time, leaving you and Jake to eat your food quietly and giggling every time you made eye contact or your feet touched under the table. 
Just as you were about to take your last bite of lasagna, your phone pinged with a message. Curiously, so did Jake’s. Chaewon had sent a message into the group chat, asking to meet her at work when her shift was done because she was craving an Oreo milkshake.
chae bae y/n u better come ik ur not doing anything better tonight anyway
You scoffed. You were doing something better.
“Shit, today’s Friday! The boys are waiting for me at the diner, I completely forgot,” Jake exclaimed as he read the messages on his phone.
“Language, Jake,” his mom scolded.
“At the diner?” you repeated.
“Yeah, that one we went to last time. Why?” Jake asked when he noticed your surprised expression.
“That’s where Chaewon wants to meet.”
You both turned to your respective moms, silently asking for permission to leave the dinner table.
“Just go,” your mother said with a smile.
“I’ll take Layla home later,” Jake’s mom added.
You thanked them before rushing to get a bag and heading to the bus stop, hoping a bus would come by soon. Twenty minutes later, you were opening the doors of the diner and looking around for your friends, who were nowhere to be found. You were fishing your phone out of your pocket to call Chaewon when a familiar voice caught your and Jake’s attention.
“What are they doing together?” you heard Jay say, followed by loud shushes. You turned your head to find all five of your friends (plus Jaemin) crammed in a booth in the corner that was somewhat hidden from the rest of the restaurant. But they were trying so hard to be discreet that it made their presence even more obvious - they hid their faces with their hands as if that would make them disappear from your view. You and Jake shared a look before chuckling, shaking your head at your friends.
“Whatever, they’ve clearly found us,” Jay sighed and exited the booth, walking towards the two of you.
“Were you guys trying to get us to make up or something?” Jake asked with an amused smile.
“Yeah, we grouped up and planned this whole thing. It was a real team effort.”
“It might’ve worked better if you hadn’t all stayed here, you guys were so obvious,” you chided.
“Tell that to your friends over there! They insisted on watching it unfold,” Jay grumbled, and you looked behind him to see your friends frantically waving at you.
You switched to a bigger booth that could accommodate all seven of you, and as soon as you’d placed your orders, Yena practically pounced on you, demanding an explanation as to how the two of you were already made up.
You turned to look at Jake and smiled at him before answering. “It’s all thanks to Kiwi, really,” you told Yena.
“Kiwi? As in your dog Kiwi?” Chaewon asked with furrowed eyebrows.
“Mh-hm.” In your peripheral, you noticed Jake tilting his head at you.
“You mean Layla, right?”
You imitated his head movement. “No, I mean Kiwi.”
“But Layla made me go to the park today. I wouldn’t have gone there if it wasn’t for her,” Jake insisted, giving you an are you being serious look that you mirrored.
“I wasn’t going to go outside at all but Kiwi kept bugging me to take him on a walk, that’s why I was in the park in the first place. It’s thanks to Kiwi,” you repeated.
“It’s thanks to Layla,” Jake retorted, playfully narrowing his eyes at you.
“Trouble in paradise,” Jaemin whispered, and Hyewon slapped his arm.
The whole table was silent as you and Jake stared each other down, waiting to see who would cave first. It was like everyone could breathe again when Jake’s face broke out into a grin and he rested his arm behind your shoulders. “Okay, it’s thanks to Kiwi,” he conceded, making you hum in satisfaction. You rested your head on his shoulder and ignored Yena’s groan of disgust at the PDA.
But Jake, as always, wasn’t letting you off the hook so easily. “And Layla.”
02.06.202X - 12:18
rodrigo hater y/n i can see you being gross from across the courtyard can u guys not feed each other ur still on school grounds and ur ruining my day have some decency
sweet hyewon you guys are super cute <3  jaemin and i only have the same lunch period once a week i miss him
rodrigo hater ugh wheres chaewon she’d have my back
you hyewon love u yena frigg off you’re not going to like this… i think she’s with sunghoon rodrigo hater WHAT
sweet hyewon omg hahahaha saw it coming cuuuuute
rodrigo hater i hate you all so much you’re all kicked out of my celibacy club
chae bae we weren’t part of it in the first place
rodrigo hater GO AWAY YOU TRAITOR
03.06.202X - 09:15
you jake wake up  wake up wake up please
jake ??? R U okay?
you kiwi keeps whining i think he wants to see layla come over?
jake . did u just wake me up before 10 am on a sunday morning for this
you i made pancakes?
jake i’m going back to sleep
you but i miss you :(
jake running
07.06.202X - 16:39
stink #1 hey
jake no
stink #1 wtf man
jake im busy
stink #1 smooching ur girl?
jake yeah stay mad bro
stink #1 where’s hoon
stink #2 he’s at ice skating practice with me <3 this is chaewon btw
jake AYO????
stink #1 HE GAVE YOU ACCESS TO HIS PHONE???
stink #2 hehehe bye losers
stink #1 oh my god jake this is huge
jake right… our little boy he’s grown so much
stink #1 i’m getting teary eyed anyway i wanted to say i think we should invite the girls to bro night more often it’s always fun with them
jake oh? if u wanna see yena just say so bro
stink #1 fuck u man
jake ur literally so obvious you get 100% more obnoxious when she’s around
stink #1 idc she laughs at my jokes
jake which is proof that there’s something wrong w her anyway i’ll ask my girl about it
stink #1 ew and thx ^^
09.06.202X - 17:03
jakey-poo y/nnnnnn y/n hellloooooo y/n y/n y/n baby :(((( where are u what r u doing i miss you hello y/n my baby darling angel pls answer me layla misses you
you jake sim
jakey-poo HIIIIII
you jay is a genius i’m anime pomodoroing the hell out of this essay it’s working so well i’m almost done with it already
jakey-poo don’t compliment another man ever again i’m going to cry
you but jay’s your friend
jakey-poo i’ll kill him if i have to
you gosh okay jay’s an idiot
jakey-poo hahaha he is ice cream after dinner ???
you duh
31.07.202X - 21:03
jakey-poo i’m waiting for you outside the theater baby we have a lot of talking to do. i can’t believe you kissed someone else in front of me
you jake baby it was just acting <3 you know you’re the only one i really kiss
jakey-poo i know i am so come here and kiss me quick you did so well and you were so pretty on stage and i love you so much  COME QUICK I WANNA KISS YOU
you i’m hurrying i promise but a lot of people are trying to talk to me :(
jakey-poo ofc they are you killed it my baby’s already famous <3
you hehe love you my jakey-poo
jakey-poo STOP IT WITH THAT
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permanent taglist: @zreamy @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts @moonlighthoon @4imhry @rikisly @loves0ft @iamliacamila @theboingsuckerasseater9000 @chaechae-23 (ask to be removed/added!)
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4K notes · View notes
taintedpearls · 2 months
Text
❀*ੈ˖°.𖥔 ݁ casual (part ii)
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don't buy tlou — free palestine
you can read part one here!
pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader
summary: you haven't spoken to ellie in a week, 9 missed calls and 38 texts from her, none of which you've answered, but ellie doesn't give up so easily.
cw: smut, mdni, intimate sex, the knee thing (e!receiving), shower sex, fingering (r!receiving), switch!ellie and reader, multiple orgasms, nipple play/sucking, fluffy, reader lives in an apartment, ellie is very apologetic, barley proofread & semi-rushed and i think thats it. lmk if not.
wc: 2.9k
a/n: this was meant to be like 1.6k words so idk how we got to 35 words away from 3k but... enjoy!
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(1:02am) ellie
please let me explain
(1:06am) ellie
cmon please i promise it'll be worth your while
(1:07am) ellie
i have your bra among other things. let me know when you'd like me to drop them off. i'm sorry.
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(1:09am) you
guess who texted again
(1:09am) olive
no way
r u gonna reply?
(1:10am) you
absolutely not
i made a fool of myself
(1:11am) olive
maybe and JUST MAYBE
reply to her and get ur closure + super sexy bra back
(1:12am) you
what the fuck olive
do you want me to die? genuine question
(1:12am) olive
LISTEN
it might help
plus she seems genuinely apologetic
why is she even apologising?
(1:14am) you
for being a dick and wanting a quick hookup?
(1:14am) olive
because she has feelings and she knows she fucked up?
(1:15am) you
😐 bye
(1:15am) olive
just reply! say sometime tmrw. it can be easy, a quick in nd out
okay?
(1:16am) you
i'll think about it
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(2:03am) you
11:30, you get two minutes
(2:03am) ellie
thank you so much
(2:03am) ellie
i'll be there
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nine hours later, and ellie was a mess.
you had given her permission to come over and return your bra – hell you had her jumping for fucking joy when she saw that message.
but now she had to actually talk to you, and what the hell was she supposed to say? that she was sorry? that she 'couldn't sort out her feelings?' all of which felt wrong (maybe they only felt wrong because she was staring at herself in the mirror while repeating them for three hours... who knows).
but ellie had found herself with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand and a plan.
a plan to win you back.
she was going to apologize, let you scream at her, and hopefully let her explain, all in the two minutes you had gratefully gifted her.
so, when she rang the doorbell to your apartment after hiking the six story stairs, she found herself staring at her old, beaten up converse. stars and hearts you had drawn all along the sides of the soles almost mocked her.
then you opened the door, and ellie couldn't look up.
useless apologies started spilling from her mouth, panicked words that meant nothing. a collection of "i'm sorry” s and a series of "please let me explain" came pouring out, that was until she grew the gall to look up at you and take you in.
her heart stopped when she did, so did her words.
you looked tired. clearly old yet comfortable clothes adorned your body, you had your arms over your stomach but they weren't crossed, you weren't mad, you could never be mad at ellie, no matter how badly you wanted to be especially in this moment.
words rushed through her head but never made it out her mouth, you were... exhausted. and she caused it, she caused all this pain you were going through. 
“oh…” she softly whispered, her stance faltering at the sight of you, not because you looked like how you did but because she was so mad at herself.
you sigh, you had made no effort to adjust your appearance or put makeup on. you told yourself it was because you had no energy to, but in reality, you wanted to show ellie how you were hurting, that she had caused this, that something fun and sweet had gone sour and at your own expense. 
“ellie, i know i look….” you remove your arms from your stomach and signal to yourself shamefully, tears almost springing from your sunken eyes at the regret you feel for not even trying to fix yourself up, “ but can i please just have my bra back?” you’ve changed your position once again so that you’re leaning up against the doorframe of your apartment, gray sleeves up by your knuckles. 
“no! no no no not at all you look… pretty. really pretty.” she breathes out hurriedly, your cheeks heat up before you spot the bouquet, and that's what makes the tears spill. because why was she here? she had never described you as pretty before, only hot or sexy, so why is she here apologising and calling you pretty if she doesnt just want a quick fuck by validating you? 
tears now evidently filled your eyes, ellie’s kind smile had now turned into one of worry and concern when she saw the tears threatening to spill from your tired eyes, moving forward to embrace you, but she hesitated. will it only make things worse for you? feeling her again? 
“can- can i touch you?” she asks gently, nerves shaking at the chance of you pushing her away for good, telling her she can keep the bra and slamming the door shut in her face. 
instead, you silently shake your head yes and grant her permission to embrace you, it was a stupid idea, really, because everything you felt, all the times she had touched you that you had so desperately been trying to shut out came flooding back and it took everything in you not to sob, the subtle stream of tears gliding down your cheeks was worse enough. you avoided her sorrowful eyes, you didn't want her to feel sorry for you, you just wanted her. 
ellie lets go of you, she’s still standing at the doorway, converse planted firmly on your ‘welcome!’ doormat, she delicately reaches to hold your cheeks and force your wandering eyes to look into her own, staring for a second, memorizing your face just in case before looping an arm around your shoulders and guiding you inside, closing the door behind the two of you with her foot, not looking back once. 
you can feel the flowers gently brush against your shoulder as she never put them in her other hand, but the feeling of them is oddly comforting. you're not sure why exactly it’s comforting, but you do however manage to notice they're your favorite. 
ellie guides you over to a kitchen counter, sitting you up on it and standing right in between your open spread legs, placing the array of flowers opposite to the two of you. you bury your head in your hands, wanting to disappear from this moment and never return. 
“hey…” she gently prys your hands away from your head, and you immediately look up to contain tears, trying your hardest nor to hit the cabinets. “i'm sorry for just welcoming myself in, i assumed you didn't want the neighbors to see you…” the auburn haired girl uneasily babbles, and the tears slow down. you sniffle, looking down at the girl who can’t seem to slow her fast paced talking, and you're not sure how to quiet her down other than placing a hand over her mouth. 
instantly, the talking stops as she looks up at you confused, you sniffle once more and she grabs your hand again to remove it from her mouth 
“you were talking a lot,” you whisper “its okay that you came in, ellie.” your voice is silky, addicting. 
“i just-” she sighs, anxiously tapping the space outside your thighs and staring at her own hands “i don’t know how i can express just how sorry i am, i fucked up. Bad. and your hurting because of it” she spills, shes not even sure if it made sense as it left her mouth, but it’s honest. 
“ellie… it was always more than just a casual thing to me,” you admit, voice getting shallower by the second “and i mean, i don’t know, i always just assumed if i kept saying i was fine with it you would realize that i was who you wanted, but now i know it isn’t true.” ellie’s face drops upon hearing your words, alarms blare in her head because of course it was never just casual to her as well, she’s not even sure why she suggested it in the first place or kept reinforcing it when she wanted everything but that. 
“i know,” she starts off with, you look down sadly, this was confirmation she didn't want to see you anymore, that you getting attached had ruined everything and there was no saving whatever you two had. “but,” she continues, you look up at her again, confused. “It was never just casual to me as well, you know? i’m not even sure why i suggested it in the first place.” she lets out a brief chuckle at the last part in hopes of clearing some of the tension around you guys. 
“but you-” 
“i know i always reminded you, i think it was because i was scared? i was so… infatuated with you and i guess i didn’t want to hurt you. i thought it was the only way.” she remorsefully confesses, and you smile, roles reversed as you gracefully grab her face and kiss her. a kiss that says everything. 
it's soft, gentle, show’s no urgency or panic. it’s natural, and ellie can feel you smiling into it, as is she. 
gently, she moves away and starts kissing down your neck, you lock your hands into her auburn and let out a sigh of content. 
“ellie…” you needily whisper. 
“yeah, baby?” she removes her mouth from your neck, grabbing your thighs and looking into your eyes. “this okay?”
“more than okay,” you confirm, “do you wanna shower with me?” your request is simple, but it makes ellie’s heart explode with excitement as she lifts you off the counter and begins to carry you over to the very familiar shower, the short walk is full of quick kisses and giggles bouncing off the walls when you finally arrive and she nearly stumbles over her own feet. 
you're quick to discard your own clothes, the anticipation building to feel ellie’s skin on your own, the girls anticipation matching yours as she hastily removes her own clothing. Flowers and bra forgotten in the kitchen when she pulls your body into the shower with her, capturing you into a needy kiss once more. she reaches behind you to turn the water on, not accounting for the fact it'll take a minute to warm up and allowing the freezing stream to harshly hit your back. you yelp, moving away quickly in shock, hearing ellie’s restrained snort from behind you. turning to face her, you slap her bicep playfully when the water begins to feel warmer 
“ellie!” you playfully scold, “that wasn't funny!” you’re trying to be serious, key word: trying, but you cant help to let your own laugh slip past your mouth as you join her in the fun. 
“‘m sorry!” she giggles, the laughter between you two dying down “i didn't think it would be that cold!” 
“yeah, well, obviously!” you attempt to splash her with the little bit of remaining cold water on your hands, but you're not quick enough. she pins your hands above your head against the wall adjacent to the stream of water, the glass becoming foggy with steam from the nearly boiling water. 
silence falls in between the two of you. no words are spoken as you move forwards wanting a kiss from the girl, but she moves back. deja vu spikes within you from that night at the bar, days before everything went down. 
she closes her eyes, leaning closer and pressing her forehead up against yours. You repeat the action, you weren't sure what she was doing, but you trusted her. 
“let’s take this slow, okay?” she utters softly, just loud enough so you could hear her over the sound of water pouring, you nod instantly. slow was good. slow meant effort.
with your agreement, she locks your lips into a kiss once again. it wasn't hasty or rough, it was soothing and steady, releasing your arms in order for her to move her own to rest on your hips, your own reaching towards her neck. 
the kiss continuous for a couple minutes, only letting go for a couple seconds at a time to catch your breaths before falling back into each other peacefully, but you were getting wetter and wetter, desperate for more than just kitten kisses on your neck, and you could tell ellie was getting wet too with her movements becoming more and more desperate and rough. 
discreetly, you slot your knee in between her legs while she's occupied with your neck. Almost immediately you can feel the grip she has on your hips become tighter, fingernails digging into the flesh as you slowly begin to move your knee, she groans, dropping her head into your shoulder, moving her hips to match the rhythm with your knee. 
“faster, please” she whimpers in your neck, busying herself again by leaving wet open mouthed kisses on your neck once more. who were you to deny such a pretty girl's request? you speed up the movement of your knee, nudging it up every now and again, removing a hand from her neck to reach down and slowly rub her clit. 
from the way she sucked harder on that spot just below your ear she knew you loved, you assumed the sensation was taken well, your own wetness starting to drip down your thighs, mixing with the water from the muffled noises she was making alone. eventually, the stimulation caught up to her, legs becoming shaky, speeding up your movements and circling her clit, forcefully removing her mouth from your neck so you could bring your head down and suck on her left nipple, and that was her tipping point. 
ellie came undone on your leg with a strangled shout of your name, legs shaking and thighs hurting as you slowed down the circles on her now sensitive nub before eventually stopping, removing the knee slotted between her legs as well as your mouth from her tit. 
“you okay?” you whisper, giving her a couple seconds to come down from her high, the water providing a warm comfort over the two of you. 
“yeah,” she breathes, coming up to give you a kiss on the lips, again, and again, making a wet noise each time, only further fueling your need for her. “more than okay, thank you.”
you smile at her, happy that she was satisfied with your work. you clench your thighs together in hopes to relieve some of the tension that had built up in your core, a move that did not go unnoticed by the dripping girl in front of you. 
“but now i think i need to take care of you, hm? would you like that?” you quickly nod your head yes, anxious to feel her touch on you once more. 
she doesn't wait to get to work on your body, lips going down to suck one of your boobs while her hand moves to roll the sensitive bud in between her fingers, almost instantly eliciting a moan from you.
quietly, she moves her hand that was previously rolling your nipple down your wet body to your core. you open your legs, she keeps her mouth on your boob, but teasing your folds as she ran her fingers through them and pinching your clit ever so slightly, causing you to squel. 
“ellie.. please…” you almost beg, desperate to feel her skilled fingers inside you already.
she presses her palm flat against your clit, ignoring your begs but making you jerk back into the ceramic wall as a small whimper falls from your mouth, ellie smirks knowing just how much of an effect she had on you. she wasn't leaving you ever again. 
lazily, she slips her middle finger into your hole, removing her mouth from your tit. the shower and your own slick providing enough lube that she didn't even have to prod at it. 
“jesus babe… you're so tight” you clench around her finger at these words, and she mindlessly adds a second one. your hands move from her neck to the steaming glass beside you, indenting your handprint through the fog as you lose control over your own body's movements. 
gradually, she begins pumping her fingers in and out of your sopping cunt, lewd and shameless moans leaving your mouth at an uncontrollable pace. she moves her thumb to your clit, pushing into it and causing as much pressure as possible, and it's not long before you cum with a yell of her name, babbling nonsense as she guides you through it. head in her neck as is hers in yours. 
“‘m so sorry” ellie continuously repeats as her fingers still work at a relentless pace inside you “i'm so so sorry, ill never do that to you again.” she moves up and bites your earlobe, continuing to pilot you through your orgasm before halting her movements completely and removing herself from your body. 
you lean back against the wall, eyes closed in content as you feel the droplets of water hit your skin, your water bill is gonna be so fucking high this month, all ellie does it look at you. admiring you in this post fucked out state. you reach your hand out, a silent request for her to take it and she does, right after turning off the stream for you. 
“that was… amazing.” you breathe out happily, she beams at the peaceful look on your face as you peel your eyes open, ellie's smile making you crack your own. 
“i'm glad,” she kisses you once more, the two of you smiling into it. 
“we’re okay?” she asks 
“we’re okay.” you confirm, and ellie has never been happier 
“how about we continue this in the bedroom?” ellie suggests, and you grab her instantly to lead her out. 
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people who asked to be tagged: @a-little-bit-of-everybody ! @lmaoo-spiderman @macaroni676 @p4ison1vy @fatbootymuncher @elliessweetheart
811 notes · View notes
ilwonuu · 3 months
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sweet thing. bangchans part | here.
*°:⋆ₓₒ han jisung
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🀥 request- Han is the horniest man alive istg. He'd also be a major munch and a ton of people see him as submissive but no no no. He'd be all cute and sweet but it's an illusion bc he'd be so aggressive as he ruined you, bred you, etc. His stamina is in another league bc he'd have you crying after cumming on his face multiple times and his dick. Overstimulation to the max and he'd tease you sweetly, bully you in the sweetest voice. Choking kink for sure, his hands are so pretty and decorated with rings as he chokes you. he's messy and he loves sex to be as messy as possible. Spit, tears, make you squirt, etc.
🀥 paring- meandom!han x subfem!reader
🀥 warnings-smut with no plot.., meanishdom!han, breeding kink, choking kink, unprotected sex(of course), creampie, lots of dirty talk, messy sex, teasing, degrading? (kinda not really), choking kink, lmk what else
🀥 a/n- thank u for your request!!! thank u guys so much for 400 followers!! more fics soon!! happy hoeing i love u all<3 hope u enjoyed!!!
mdni 18+ smut under the cut
your boyfriend wanted nothing more than to ruin you. have you so gone on the feeling of his tongue. your sweet boyfriend changing mood rather quickly.
you couldn’t complain tho. making you cum on his tongue until you are shaking for him. he loves when you fall apart like this. “taste so good baby. you ready for my cock?” you nod whining for him pathetically.
he just laughs a little pulling his shorts down to let his cock out. you quickly tug on his shirt wanting that to come off of him aswell. he just smirks pulling it over his head.
tossing it somewhere in the room. you moan in response to see his toned chest. “you’re so wet baby but doesn’t hurt to get you wetter don’t you think sweet thing?”
his teasing tone making you more needy by the second. you feel him rub his dick up and down your folds a bit before spitting directly on your pussy. rubbing it in with his dick. “yea look at that baby? so wet for me. want me to fuck your pretty pussy now?”
he teases you some more. you nod at him. tears falling slowly down ur eyes. “can’t fucking wait anymore.” you cry for him. “okay sweet girl. ill give you what you want.” you sigh in relief feeling him run his dick up your slit again. slowly pushing into you entrance suddenly.
he catches you off guard as he starts to fuck you hard and deep against the mattress. pulling moans out of your mouth. “fuck. you like when i fuck you like my slut huh?” you shamelessly nodding at his words.
“gonna fuck my cum so deep into you. that’s what you want huh? for me to breed you like my slut huh?” his smirk only getting bigger as he feels you clench around him. “can’t answer me baby?” he questions grabbing your face to look at him.
“y-yes hannie l-love it please don’t s-stop.” he just gives you another innocent smile. like his dick isn’t fucking you so beyond good. his hand snaking your body to wrap around your neck. he applies a little bit of pressure. your body responds quickly. “you like this huh? so close sweet girl. gonna fill your pussy so fucking good.”
your whines are beyond desperate for you boyfriend. “h-hannie im cumming oh-“ his grip against your neck tightening causing you to cum hard on his dick. “such a sweet sight baby. you wanted this all day huh? dirty girl. love it when i fuck you like this huh?”
his hips still drilling into you as he is close to cumming. “gonna- fuck gonna fuck my cum deep into you. i want you to feel me. my sweet girl wants it so bad huh? you’re fucking soaking my dick baby.” a deep chuckle coming from your boyfriend.
“you like that baby? you fucking clenching on dick so tight.” his words too embarrassing to listen to. but it made you wetter than before.
“dirty girl. you hear yourself? so fucking wet- ah shit just- i’m cumming baby.” he cuts himself off. his thick cum coating your walls. “fuuck- don’t let a single drop fall out of you. so messy all for me. love fucking you full of my cum.” his hips slowing down as he still fucks into you. “you want another load huh dirty girl?”
you nod convincing him ever so quickly. fucking you dumb all night until all you can remember is han, han, han, he is all you can think of.
764 notes · View notes
dkfile · 9 months
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gold rush
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❛ everybody wants you, everybody wonders what it would be like to love you. ❜ ━gold rush, taylor swift
word count | 19.2k (19,220) genre | fluff, angst, slowburn, exes to lovers, summer au ━ gn!reader
though there is no denying that kim mingyu was once a big part of your life, you believe that the pain he’s left you with is long gone; he is a memory, and that is all he will ever be. but then you get home, and he’s there, and maybe you have to reconsider just how much you’ve moved on.
★ warnings | brief mention of injury/scars/blood, alcohol consumption, suggestive if u squint, seokmin and minghao meddling, i think thats it tell me if i missed anything ★ author’s note | it’s finally here!!! this took me longer than i thought it would, i really thought it’d only be on the shorter side (shorter side in dkfile means >10k words) but. this is literally 19k. i lied to myself i guess. hope u guys enjoy tho !! lmk your thoughts :D
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In movies, summer signifies new beginnings. The sun’s radiance is bright enough to blind, the ocean glimmers underneath its attention, the sand is warm to the touch. Ice cream drips down your fingers and makes them uncomfortably sticky against the humid breeze. Some people come home, others leave, but they all have the intent of starting their new chapter right. Summer is about growth. It is about moving on.
It is not supposed to be about Kim Mingyu.
seok ☀️ > can you pls pick up the phone > i’m sorryyyyy that i lied to you ☹️ > forgive me!! 😓💔🙏 > do you need me to grovel? because i will
You scowl.
When you came back from college, welcomed home with open arms by your family and childhood friends, you were reassured that a certain boy — with golden skin, starry eyes, and your crushed heart in the palm of his hand — would not be back in town. Foolishly, you looked past the mischievous quirk of Minghao’s eyebrow, and the sheepish wince painted across Seokmin’s face when you expressed your delight at having them all to yourself.
There would be no ex-boyfriend to thwart your plans, no boy to drown your summer in gasoline and set it aflame.
But then your shopping cart bumps into someone else’s at the store, and when you look up, the bane of your existence is staring at you, open-mouthed and wide-eyed.
You vaguely remember the rather sharp inhale Seokmin took from behind you before you scoffed, incredulous and irritated, and harshly stated that Seokmin could finish grocery shopping by himself. You do not want to associate yourself with the traitor and the liar your so-called best friend has become.
Seokmin claims you’re being rather overdramatic. He swears he didn’t know Mingyu would be home so soon.
(“So soon?” you repeated when you picked up Seokmin’s fifteenth call ten minutes ago. “What does that mean? That you knew he was always going to be coming home?”
“…Listen—”
You hung up).
You find yourself sitting in the skatepark a few blocks from the mart, legs curled up on the bench and your chin resting on your knees. As the sun begins to dip below the horizon, the occupants slowly pack up and leave, until the sounds of wheels against concrete is replaced with the murmur of cicadas and the laughter from the occasional passerby.
The warmth of the wood seeps through your denim shorts, percolating across your body until you are hot underneath your clothes. Despite the heat of the day giving way to the mellow cool of the evening, sweat forms on your upper lip and hairline, an indicator that it’s too hot to sit out here and contemplate every choice you’ve made up until this moment.
Still, you stay; you’re not sure why. You never quite liked it here, had only enjoyed it when you were surrounded by your friends and their saccharine laughter. The scars on your leg are painful reminders of the multiple falls you took when he was teaching you how to skate.
(Sometimes, on bad nights, you still feel the ghost of his fingers on your waist and your wrist, guiding you on his board while children much younger than you zoom by).
You never left this area without a new injury, whether it be a bruise on the shin or a scrape on the knee.
Memories of what once was linger.
You do not remember what you had for breakfast this morning, or what show Seokmin recommended to you a few hours ago, or what car your dad was planning on buying.
But you remember Mingyu. You remember his smile and his sweet cologne and the way his hair fell into his eyes whenever his shoulders shook with laughter. You remember what it feels like to be in his bubble; it feels like you’ve been dumped into molasses — you become aware of your every move, and time begins to move just a little slower, as if you are trying to savour every moment before he disappears.
You feel him before you hear him.
That’s why you’re not surprised when he talks, his voice soft from where he stands behind the bench. You imagine him with his hands tucked into his pockets, staring at the empty ramps (he is not looking at you. You would know if he was looking at you. His gaze would burn more than a thousand wildfires).
“I thought they told you.”
Your voice comes out hoarse. “They told me you weren’t coming home.”
“Oh,” he doesn’t sound surprised, but he stills offers an apology. “I’m sorry.”
“Why? You’re not the one who lied.”
A quiet heartbeat passes. “Right.”
Your fingers drum against your calf. “How did you find me, anyway? Did Seokmin track my location?”
“No,” he murmurs. His voice has been quiet ever since he arrived. “I just… figured you’d be here.”
You swallow a large lump in your throat. “Oh,” you say weakly.
“Yeah,” he responds. There’s a brief moment of contemplation. He knows there’s a line he cannot cross, but he tries anyway. “Do you want a ride home?”
Your response is immediate and firm, and its harshness is enough to break the calm façade he unintentionally built around the both of you. “No. I’ll walk.”
“It’s hot,” he argues.
“I don’t need you, Mingyu,” you bite back. He clamps his mouth shut as unease settles in the pit of your stomach. “I don’t— I’ll be fine.”
He seems to hesitate; you aren’t sure how long he stands behind you, searching for a response.
Then, as if it pains him to say: “Okay.”
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“Damn,” Minghao falls into Seokmin’s shoulder as they both laugh at your stumbling, “You suck!”
“Hey,” Mingyu barks, though he looks more like a puppy than the intimidating boy he imagines himself to be, “it’s not like you’re any better!”
You know Mingyu’s only saying this to make you feel better — Minghao is, arguably, the best on wheels out of the four of you — but the sentiment still warms your heart. At your smile, Mingyu’s annoyed mien is replaced with a grin of his own. He reaches over to squeeze your cheek.
“I believe in you,” he declares.
“As much as I appreciate what you’re doing,” you begin, stretching out your arms to balance on the board, “I don’t think I’m ever going to master this.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Mingyu huffs, hands hovering over your sides once the skateboard begins to move, eyes trained on your feet. “By the time we get out of here, you’re gonna give Minghao a run for his money.”
You sigh. Mingyu was always one for wishful thinking.
“You really think I’ll be able to do this by myself in half an hour?”
Mingyu hums hopefully.
The sun has already begun to set, and you had promised your parents you’d be home for dinner. With fall around the corner, the days are slowly becoming shorter, a constant reminder that your last year of school is upon you. Next are college applications, then admissions, and conversations about your future that you aren’t quite ready to have.
But you’ll worry about that when you need to.
Because right now, there is the skate park, the late summer breeze, and Mingyu, who shrieks along with you when you lose balance. His arms grab onto your waist, bringing you back to the ground as the skateboard continues to roll down the concrete. Right now, there is the furrow of his eyebrows, the mixture of disappointment and amusement swirling in his eyes, and his forehead pressed against yours.
“I thought I told you not to zone out,” he says with a slight shake of his head. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”
You shrug, pecking his nose before pulling away to chase after the skateboard. “You’re so dramatic. The worst I could’ve gotten was a scraped knee.”
Mingyu scoffs. “So? I don’t want you getting hurt under my watch.”
“You’re my boyfriend, not my babysitter.”
“Well, I might as well be,” he argues. “You’re more accident prone than me.”
Laughing, you jokingly say, “Guess that means you’ve finally met your match, Kim.”
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People used to say you and Mingyu were made for each other.
It is something you’ve tried to forget, but the fact follows you around like a shadow. This town, small and aware of the breakup, can’t seem to wrap their heads around the fact that you and Mingyu are no longer extensions of one another.
At some point, you hoped that people would understand your discomfort whenever he’s mentioned, but the fact of the matter is that you and Mingyu had been a package deal from when you were in diapers up until the end of senior year, and when you’re intertwined with someone for that long, it’s just as hard for you as it is for everyone to forget that part of yourself.
When you stop by the pharmacy, you don’t ask about him (you have no reason to), but the pharmacist still informs you that you’ve just missed him; when you see your mother’s colleague, she gushes about how nice it must be to see him after all this time (you do not have the heart to tell her otherwise); when you buy a pack of Sprite bottles for Mrs. Boo’s annual summer barbecue, the clerk asks if you know if he’s going to be in attendance (you say you have not talked to him in three years, and the clerk tilts his head in confusion).
Your patience has been worn thin by the time you arrive at Seokmin’s house.
“Hello, sunshine,” Minghao drawls when his attention settles on you. He watches you scowl before setting your bag on the armchair and taking a seat beside him on the couch. “How was your morning?”
“I’m ditching,” you declare, brushing off his question.
“Ditching what?”
“The barbecue,” you deadpan. “What else?”
“Now, why the hell would you do that?”
“Minghao,” you say blankly, “would it kill you to use your brain for once?”
“Are you calling me stupid?”
Seokmin enters the living room, carrying three cans of iced tea, all of which he places on the coffee table. He throws you and Minghao a look of annoyance. “If you guys are going to argue, please don’t do it under my roof,” he gestures around the room, “it kills the vibes.”
You roll your eyes but mutter an apology under your breath. Beside you, Minghao quips, “Y/N decided ditching the barbecue would be a good idea.”
You’re used to Seokmin’s mannerisms by now, so you don’t even flinch when he waves his arms around in disbelief. “What?” he exclaims, crouching in front of your legs and taking your hands into his. “Why the hell would you do that?”
Minghao hums. “That’s what I said.”
“Put that brain of yours to good use.”
“They said that to me, too.”
Seokmin huffs, knowing better than to let your quips deter him. “Please don’t tell me this is about Mingyu.”
You quirk an eyebrow, to which Seokmin scoffs, letting go of your hands before plopping down in front of you, even though there’s a free spot on the other side of Minghao. They scrutinize you for a moment, Seokmin’s eyes narrowed and lips twisted into a frown while Minghao stares blankly, showing no emotion or an indication of what’s going on inside his head.
It does nothing to make you feel comfortable.
You aren’t a stranger to Minghao and Seokmin’s examinations — they’re experts when it comes to breaking you down with analyzations and calculating eyes. But you haven’t been home in three years, and being on the receiving end of something as intense as this is startling, if not a little troubling.
(Being the only one enduring this, absent of a certain boy, is unsettling as well, though you’d rather die than admit that).
Seokmin nudges your ankle with his knee. “You know you’ll regret not going to this thing,” he says, eyes sparkling with amusement when you bristle. “You haven’t seen the Boo’s in forever, too. They’d be sad if you miss it.”
“Imagine how Seungkwan would feel,” Minghao adds, poking your arm to look at him, and continues to do so when you don’t. “He’d be miserable.”
You pout. “I doubt it.”
“You were in the same badminton club for five years,” Minghao argues softly, “I think he would be.”
Seokmin states, “And you’re not the type of person to let someone down, are you?” He pauses for a moment before adding, “Well, other than me and Minghao, on occasion.”
You cross your arms, leaning further into the couch as you avoid eye contact. You’re adamant on skipping, but Seokmin and Minghao know you better than anyone else, so they know exactly how to word their sentences and fabricate their bribes to get you to agree. They know, as long as you keep this up, the entirety of your summer will be spent in the four walls in your house, the only place in town guaranteed to not have Kim Mingyu.
And it may be pathetic, really, to continue letting him affect you like this.
(But it has always been you and Mingyu, Mingyu and you. He is part of your soul. There is a void in your chest that’s the shape of him. How are you supposed to erase all memory of someone like that?)
A painted fingernail pokes your side, a knee bumps your shin. Your friends look at you, hopeful.
A sigh.
“Okay, fine.”
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“Can I ask you something?”
You hum, collapsing on the bench beside Seungkwan, his newly dyed platinum blonde hair appearing orange under the setting sun. Sweat trinkles down his frame but his breathing remains even, showing no sign that he just finished playing a rather intense badminton game a few minutes prior.
“What are you guys doing after you graduate?”
You take a sip from your water bottle in hopes the liquid will make it easier to swallow the lump forming in your throat. You have never minded these types of conversations, though the reminder of the future creates a pit in your stomach that only continues to grow larger with each passing day. And, knowing Seungkwan, you know there is more to his question than college applications and major declarations.
“What do you mean?”
“You, Mingyu, Minghao, and Seokmin,” Seungkwan elaborates. “You’re all going to different colleges, right?”
Pursing your lips, you risk a glance at him, only to find that he’s staring ahead. “Minghao’s going abroad, yeah, and Seokmin’s thinking of staying here,” you explain, voice low. “Mingyu and I are going to be together, though.”
At this, Seungkwan turns to you, eyebrows furrowed. “You two are going to the same university?”
There is something about the way he asks this — unsure, withdrawn, and cautious. You see the flare of uncertainty in his eyes, and it’s enough for your heartrate to quicken.
“Yeah. Why?”
He opens and closes his mouth. There is war in his head. Very rarely do you see Seungkwan at a loss for words. He is usually so quick on his feet, so witty, so talkative, and the silence that falls between you both is painful and nerve-wracking.
Should you be worried?
“Nothing,” he eventually settles for, ignoring the silent question in your eyes. “I was just thinking about how nice that would be.”
You decide to believe him. It is so much easier to be ignorant, you think.
(But it is also much more painful later. You do not allow yourself to dwell).
“Why’d you ask, anyway?”
“I was just talking to Vernon and Chan, and I realized we all want different things,” Seungkwan sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. “We won’t all be together much longer. It feels… weird.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you think you guys will be able to stay in touch?”
You shrug hopefully. “I think so,” you say, shifting your gaze to the horizon, “we’ve been friends forever. It’d take a lot to break that up.”
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The scent of tangerines and aftershave fill your nose as you’re ambushed by a boy bursting with energy, bouncing on the balls of his feet while he resides in your arms, squeezing you tight as he spews angry statements that all come from a place of love.
Seungkwan is grinning by the time you pull away, grabbing you by your wrist and dragging you further into the backyard to catch up with other people. He doesn’t dare leave your side — he’s convinced you’ll slip away and disappear if he does — and you’re thankful; you don’t have the energy to steamroll through conversations today.
Though it’s humid, the warmth you’re engulfed in is a product of the Boo household. It is homely and welcoming and an embodiment of everything you’ve ever missed about home all in one lot. You should be happy to be here, surrounded by people you haven’t seen in years as a consequence of your avoidance, pulled into an endless pool of memories and nostalgia.
But you cannot shake it, the uneasiness.
You feel it as soon as the gate swings open and he enters, carrying two large Tupperware containers, one filled with brownies and the other with lemon squares. You feel it when he flashes his signature smile, canines as pearly white and blinding as you remember, and it still fills you with a sickening sense of joy.
“I’m gonna go get a brownie,” Seungkwan announces, loud enough to snap you out of it. “Do you want one?”
“No,” you decline, forcing yourself to smile even when you feel a burning sensation at the back of your head. “Thank you, though.”
Seungkwan nods and makes his way to the refreshments table, but not before wagging a finger in warning, “Don’t leave without saying goodbye!”
You frantically search the backyard, looking for any sign of Minghao or Seokmin, or maybe a superhero of some sorts to pull you away so you don’t disintegrate in the presence of Mingyu.
In your periphery, you see him excuse himself from conversations, eyes flickering towards you with a determination you aren’t unfamiliar with. It’s remorseful and desperate, and it reminds you of an instance in the skatepark a few years ago, you in his sweater and drowning in heartbreak and sorrow.
Someone swings their arm over your shoulder.
“Hey,” Minghao murmurs, steering you further into the backyard, away. You can’t help the sigh of relief that escapes you. “You okay?”
“Fine,” you grit your teeth.
“You’re gonna have to talk to him at some point,” he says, dropping his arm once he’s decided you’re far enough. “I feel like it’d do the both of you some good.”
“I have nothing to say to him,” you protest. “And I’m sure he has nothing to say to me.”
“I really don’t think that’s the truth.”
“It is.”
“You were in love with him,” he says. It slips out of his lips so easily, as if he were talking about the weather or the shapes of the clouds. You wish you could mutter an admission like that — accept something like that — the way he had. “And he was in love with you, and it ended badly. That is more than enough of a reason to talk.”
It ended badly. You always associated a statement like that with relationships that ended in screaming matches or slamming doors. Ones where a simple argument escalated into one that finalized a conclusion, ones where there was nothing in the room but anger and exhaustion that overpowered the love.
You’ve never associated it with how your relationship with Mingyu ended. The sun was rising, and birds were chirping, and you were standing in the same spot you asked him out, the same spot he asked you to prom, the same spot he murmured three simple words into your ear before you fell asleep on his shoulder on the park bench.
It didn’t end because of a fight. Sometimes, you wish it had — maybe then you’d feel differently about everything, about him.
It just came to a halt, and he had been the one to step on the brakes.
“Talk to him,” Minghao urges again, sympathetic but firm. “You don’t have to do it now, but just do it before you leave. Don’t you think you deserve some closure?”
You find him talking to some of your classmates from your graduating class. They hang onto every word he says, face alit with curiosity and admiration, because some things never change, and he has been put on a pedestal since birth. In the hallways of the high school, his name is on the trophies, he’s beaming in most of the pages in the yearbook, he is this town’s pride and joy.
But you know him.
You see him smile and you’re not blind to the discomfort and falseness behind it. He doesn’t want to be there, you think, and your thoughts are proven correct when he glances up to look at you, and his mask slips by a fraction. For a moment, you see sincerity, a glimpse of the Mingyu you once knew.
Someone taps him on the shoulder and, as you predicted, he puts the mask back on.
You hate that you still know him like the back of your hand.
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He is leaning against your frame, playing with your fingers, when he asks the question.
“How do you do it?” he wonders, looking up briefly to meet your questioning gaze before returning his focus on your hands, tapping them to the beat of an overplayed pop song.
His head has dipped down, allowing you to rest your cheek against it. “Do what?”
“Talk to everyone like that,” he says, using his free hand to gesture towards the backyard filled with the people you’re currently hiding from. The both of you sit on the staircase by the front entrance, away from any prying eyes. “They were hanging onto every word you said. They’re practically in love with you.”
You snicker. “What, don’t tell me you’re jealous?”
Mingyu matches your teasing tone with a playful lilt of his own. “Oh, I am. I’ve got some competition.”
You nudge him with your shoulder. “Don’t be too upset when I pick Mrs. Boo over you.”
He hums. “No promises.”
A blanket of comfortable silence falls over you. He fidgets with your hands, brushing his thumb over your nails, and tracing the lines of your palms with his index finger. You close your eyes, listening to the fading chatter of the town and the faint sizzling of meat on the grill.
“I should be asking you that, y’know,” you eventually mumble. Mingyu’s movements stop. “You’ve got the whole town wrapped around your finger. I’m pretty sure everybody loves you.”
To get you to open your eyes, he pokes your cheek. “The same could be said about you,” he responds. “Besides, people only like the idea of me. What would they say if they found out my room’s never clean and I cycle through the same two pairs of socks year-round?”
You wrinkle your nose. “God, remind me to buy you a pack of socks from the store next time I’m at the mall.”
He laughs, an unpleasant snort involuntarily escaping his nose. “I’m serious. They don’t like me. They like the illusion.”
You finally look at him, meeting his softened gaze and mellow smile. “And that doesn’t bother you?”
“No, not really,” he shrugs, but there is a minuscule halt in his voice that you don’t catch. “The only opinion that matters to me is yours.”
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You’re convinced Seokmin and Minghao are saints.
(You would never admit this, though. They would never shut up if you did).
For the entire 40-minute car ride, they manage to keep the calm, filling the silence with anecdotes about people you have only heard about through irregular video calls, and arguments about who should be in control of the music. Eventually, they settle for handing the aux over to Mingyu, who meets your gaze through the rearview mirror before clicking on a familiar playlist and looking out the window.
After the first five songs, your face heats up as you remember bashfully making him a playlist back in high school. You settle into your spot, hoping the battered polyester of Seokmin’s car seats will swallow you whole.
When you agreed to tag along on their trip out of town and into the city, Minghao and Seokmin didn’t bother hiding their surprise, especially since they made it clear Mingyu was going to be in attendance. Seungkwan even offered to let you carpool with him, Vernon, and Chan, but you declined — you might as well suck it up, seeing as you and Mingyu are going to be in the same vicinity for the rest of the summer.
Still, you can’t help but regret your decisions as you squirm in the backseat behind Seokmin, who’s fiddling with the A/C, listening intently to a story Minghao’s telling about some scandal involving two classmates he’s never talked to before. You’re thankful for their nosiness, because it gives you some level of comfort and helps you ignore Mingyu’s fleeting glances from the passenger seat.
“The professor’s a hardass so everyone was convinced they were fucking,” Minghao says, leaning forward in his seat. “Turns out he was just her stepdad, who suffered from a chronic case of favouritism.”
Seokmin snorts. “Out of all the conclusions to jump to, that’s the one they picked?”
Minghao quirks an eyebrow. “You of all people should not be saying that.”
“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”
As Seokmin and Minghao begin to bicker for the nth time that evening, your gaze slides from the window to the Snoopy trinket hanging from the rearview mirror to the mirror itself, and you can’t find it in you to be surprised when you see Mingyu already looking at you. An unsaid question dances in his eyes, wary and timid.
Are you sure this is okay?
You gulp, worrying your lips between your teeth before shrugging. Yes, it’s fine.
He raises his eyebrow. This is the first time you’ve acknowledged him tonight.
Really?
You shrug again. Really.
And you leave it at that, turning again to look outside.
Seokmin takes fifteen minutes to find a decent parking spot, so when you finally enter the nightclub, you’re prepared for the scowl on Seungkwan’s face when he spots the four of you. He scolds Seokmin first and receives a flick to his forehead in response, which only angers him more. Before you can meet his wrath, you slip away, moving to enter the booth and letting Mingyu and Minghao get the brunt of Seungkwan’s rage and disappointment.
“Y/N!” Chan exclaims when you settle next to him, wrapping his arms around your torso to give you a brief hug before sliding you his unfinished pint of beer. “I haven’t talked to you in forever!”
When you take a sip of the alcohol, you try your best to hide your grimace when the lukewarm liquid hits your tongue. “I talked to you at the barbecue two days ago.”
“Well, I missed you. Sue me,” he throws his hands up in exasperation. Across from you, Vernon hides his amused smile behind his own pint. “You come home after, what, three years? Forgive me if I’ve become clingy.”
“Didn’t know you missed me so much.”
Vernon’s eyes are dripping with mirth. “He went broke from using all his coins at the fountain in town square,” he says, laughing when Chan shoots him daggers. “He went there whenever he was free and was wishing you’d come back—”
“He’s exaggerating,” Chan huffs. In retaliation to Vernon’s teasing, Chan takes his friend’s pint of beer and chugs it down until there is nothing left. “I only wished whenever Mingyu was home, he was so mopey, he would’ve been happier if you were here.”
You freeze.
“Okay,” Vernon interjects, pushing himself out of his seat to move all the empty glasses away from Chan, as if doing so will help the situation. He throws you an apologetic look, though it lacks his usual sincerity. “That’s enough for tonight.”
Chan whines. “But I wanted to do tequila shots with everyone.”
“Drink this first,” Vernon instructs.
Chan grumbles but accepts the glass of water Vernon gives him.
Before you can say something about Chan’s offhanded comment, the rest of your friends climb into the booth, and Vernon and Chan ease their way into their conversation as soon as everyone’s seated. You lean back, cowering behind Minghao and Chan’s frames as Seungkwan makes a joke you barely catch and Minghao repeats every story he told on the journey here.
You try your best to engage in the conversation, really, but it’s been so long since you’ve been with this group of people. As they discuss events you were never there for, snippets of a summer you weren’t part of, the awkwardness begins to build in your stomach, because it was never supposed to be like this, you were never supposed to feel left out.
If the person you were a few years ago saw you now, you know they’d be a little disappointed. Maybe they’d pity you, too.
The consequences, you suppose, of never coming home.
Sighing, you gesture for Minghao to slip out of the booth so you can get out. You say something about going to the bar to get another drink, and he nods, squeezing your shoulder — his silent way of telling you to stay safe — before letting you go.
You try your best to avoid any stumbling individuals, wrinkling your nose and murmuring apologies that get lost in the noise when you can’t avoid bumping into someone. With a glance over your shoulder, you make sure your friends aren’t paying any attention to you before making your way towards the exit.
It’s a warm evening, but it’s cooler than it is inside, and you relish in the temporary peace before you have to inevitably make your way back. They’ll notice if you’re gone too long, and they’ve always been easy to worry.
“Hey.”
A tall frame enters your periphery, clad in a loose white t-shirt and light-washed jeans, staring ahead at the passing cars. You ignore the way his face falls when you shuffle further to the side, away from him.
Your history aside, Kim Mingyu has always run hot. Before, you wouldn’t mind — before, you would’ve been clinging onto him — but time has passed, and you aren’t the same people you were back in high school.
A part of you misses it. There is something so comfortable about Mingyu that you can only describe in insignificant memories, like when he moves you to the side furthest from the road, or when he wraps his scarf around your neck because the cold is nipping at your nose, or when he buys mini versions of your skincare products to keep in his house for when you’re too tired to drive back home.
It's almost homely. Like a hug, maybe.
(You missed it a lot, at first, his aura. Whenever you needed it most, you’d lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, and instead of sheep lulling you into slumber, it’s him. Way back when, he’d rub circles into your wrist to help you fall asleep, and you think of it then, because it used to bring you so much comfort).
(In your dreams, you murmur his name — Mingyu, Mingyu, Mingyu — like a prayer, like an incantation).
“I’m sorry.”
You jolt in surprise. Not at his voice, but at the apology. “Why?”
“You’re uncomfortable.”
“I’m not,” you protest with a frown. “I’m just… I couldn’t think of how to contribute to the conversation, that’s all.”
“Oh,” Mingyu says gently. He looks relieved. “So, you’re okay that I’m here?”
“Yeah, I mean, they’re your friends, too.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
A quiet moment passes, and you see the relief begin to crumble.
“Yeah, I don’t mind that you’re here,” you offer. The next sentence slips out before you can stop it, “I’m glad, actually.”
His eyes widen in surprise. “You are?”
You shift uncomfortably on your feet, wincing. “A little. I haven’t seen you in a while.”
Before this month, you only saw him through Instagram, glimpses of his life that were curated to make his life seem special and happy and void of any worries. You only heard about him — the real him — when his name accidentally slipped out of your friends’ or your family’s mouths.
You can’t help but think that it wasn’t enough.
“How’s school?” he asks, subtly moving so he’s slightly facing you.
“It’s alright,” you answer. “Stressful, but that’s a given. My roommate got a boyfriend, though. He leaves his shit everywhere and he acts like he lives there.”
A soft chuckle leaves his lips. “Yeah, I know, Minghao told me.”
You furrow your eyebrows. “Oh? Why would he tell you that?”
“I asked,” he shrugs. You finally, really look at him now, and your confusion is evident. He seems unfazed by it, but you can see the crimson slowly climbing up his neck. “I ask about you sometimes.”
“Why?”
You know why, you think. What’s the point in asking when you already know the reason behind his actions and intentions? Your soul is intertwined with his, it has been for a while, but you can’t seem to accept it.
You still hurt.
Minghao’s right. Maybe the closure is needed.
“Because I care about you,” he confesses, trying his best to hide his yearning. “You were my best friend, and I want to know if you’re still doing okay.”
Your fingers shake, so you stuff them into the pockets of your sweater. “And what do they tell you when you ask?”
He hesitates, scanning your face while he plans his best course of action. The wounds haven’t closed, the stitches were poorly sewn, and blood spills out of the cuts he left like the damage he’s done is fresh.
“They tell me that I should ask you myself,” he says, “But sometimes they take pity on me, and they’ll tell me things you’ve told them. Like the roommate situation, or the barista who fucked up your order, or how you scored the highest on an exam— congratulations, by the way.”
You bite the inside of your cheek. “Thank you,” you reply meekly.
“It’s no problem,” he responds. Contemplation flickers across his face before he adds, rather reluctantly, “I’m proud of you, you know.”
You feel the same way you did when he first confessed, like an immature and blubbering teenager, full of hope and optimism and dreams of what could be.
“Mingyu—”
“I mean it,” he interrupts. “I’ve seen the stuff you’ve posted, and I should’ve congratulated you then, I know that, but—”
You give him a small smile. “Better late than never.”
He flashes you a grin, the same one you’d longed to see, the one you used to humiliate yourself for. You would’ve done anything to see him smile like that — a smile that isn’t put on just for show, but one that’s genuine and blinding. It’s something reserved for certain people, those who have seen through the illusion that was created for him, those who have seen it and still love him for who he is, despite his faults and imperfections.
He nods. “Better late than never.”
Despite your best efforts to squash your delight, your heart escapes your desperate grip, and it soars.
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It’s cold.
The ground has frozen over, leaving jagged pieces of ice all over the concrete. The snow, previously a crisp white, has turned brown due to its contact with cars. The wind is cold, persistent, it refuses to let you forget about its existence with each gust.
On the other side of the parking lot, you see your friends whisper amongst themselves before one of them throws his hands up in exasperation and stomps over to his car, a beat-up vehicle with torn polyester seats and discarded bubblegum wrappers on the floor. He’s grumbling something under his breath as he settles into the driver’s seat and leaves without so much as a goodbye.
It’s cold, and something’s wrong.
Your eyes find Mingyu’s and your stomach sinks.
Something’s wrong, but you’re unsure whether you’ll find out what it is tonight.
“Hey,” you say once he’s in earshot. He stiffens at the sound of your voice. “Is Seokmin okay?”
“Yeah,” Mingyu says. “I’ll just apologize tomorrow morning.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing big.” He tightens the scarf around his neck and turns to walk towards his car. You follow, because with Mingyu you always do, and look at him over the roof as he digs in his pockets for his keys.
You clench your jaw, uncomfortable (when was the last time you’ve felt unpleasant around him? Things have started getting weirder since everyone started sending in their college applications). You wonder if you should push for answers, but you stop yourself before you can open your mouth. You’ve never done something like this before — Mingyu has always told you everything; secrets between the two of you are scarce.
He unlocks the doors. “Is it okay if we stop by the convenience store before I bring you home? I gotta buy some ramen for my sister.”
He looks tired. Maybe you can ask him about what happened another day.
“Yeah, sure.”
He nods in thanks and enters before another gust of wind hits — it’s harsher this time, as if it’s sending you a warning.
You really should’ve brought your own scarf.
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When your family yells for you to open the door, the last thing you expect to see on the other side of it is Kim Mingyu.
Your ire is gone in a flash.
“Um…”
Mingyu winces. “Hi. Sorry, I— your brother called me, he said it was an emergency, and I was worried, so—”
“Mingyu!” your brother yells excitedly, running out of the kitchen before throwing his arms around Mingyu’s torso. “You’re here! Thank God, Y/N was ruining the cake—”
You scoff loudly. “What the fuck, Daeshim? You’re the one who put in salt instead of sugar—"
“Get in, get in!” Daeshim says cheerily, throwing you a glare. You narrow your eyes in return, ignoring how Mingyu’s hands brush against yours when he makes his way towards the kitchen after toeing off his shoes. Daeshim pokes you. “I’m telling Mom you swore.”
“What are you, five?”
Daeshim sticks his tongue out. “Add some money in the swear jar.”
“I hate you,” you deadpan. Your eyes flicker to the white sneakers neatly placed by the other footwear, worn from years of use. “Why did you ask him to come here?”
Your brother shrugs. “He usually stops by, anyway, to help for Mom’s birthday.”
“Wait, what?”
“Yeah,” he says sarcastically, gesturing for you to move so he can shut the front door. “Are you sure you guys broke up? Cause when you didn’t come home for the summer, he would still check up on us and stuff, and he’d always ask about you. It was so weird. It felt like I was a child of divorce.”
You smack him on the head. “Can you not say that about my relationship?”
“Well, it’s not a relationship anymore,” he quips.
You tense, crossing your arms so you don’t give Daeshim the delight of seeing your clenched fists. “You know what I meant.”
“If you don’t want to stay, then go. But he’s not going anywhere until Mom’s cake is done.”
“Why not? We were doing just fine without him.”
“Are you serious? You know he’s better at baking than you ever will be.”
“Okay, rude.”
“It’s true—”
“Uh, guys?” Both of your heads snap to wear Mingyu peeks around the corner, his amusement thinly veiled behind his distress. “Your kitchen’s a mess.”
Daeshim grins, pointing his finger at you. “Y/N’s fault!” he exclaims before heading to the kitchen.
You poke your cheek with your tongue in annoyance, watching your sibling nonchalantly disappear from your line of sight before you focus on Mingyu. He’s leaning against the wall now, hands shoved in his sweatpants and his head tilted to the side. He looks at you like he’s studying you, trying to find a sign of any kind that he needs to leave.
He must’ve found nothing because he stays.
You clear your throat, straightening your posture. “It was not my fault.”
His lips quirk up. “Oh, I’m sure.”
He disappears before you can retort.
(He’s always been good at that — leaving before you have a chance to fight).
When you finally join them in the kitchen, there’s a familiar baby pink apron around Mingyu’s neck, already splattered with cake batter as he whisks something in a steel bowl. Daeshim is crouched in front of the fridge, putting containers of leftovers on the floor in search of something. You kick his leg with your foot, throwing him off balance, and you both give each other matching scowls.
“Don’t put the Tupperware on the floor.”
He rolls his eyes but picks them up without argument, placing them on the empty counter by the fridge. You don’t understand why he couldn’t have done that in the first place, but Daeshim is notorious for making terrible decisions.
You don’t miss the way Mingyu’s eyes soften when he sees you. “You’re gonna help?”
“I came with the intention to supervise Daeshim and make sure he doesn’t accidentally set something on fire, but…” you shrug, “I could help, yeah.”
“Perfect,” Mingyu grins. “Can you get the baking pan?”
You do as he asks, handing it over to him over the kitchen island. “You’re gonna put it in the oven already? Daeshim was complaining about the batter so much he almost convinced me there was no saving it.”
Mingyu snorts as he cautiously pours the mixture into the pan. “He was just being overdramatic—”
Daeshim snaps from his spot near the fridge. “Are you guys just gonna talk about me as if I’m not here?”
“—it was only a little runny,” he assures, making sure not a drop of batter ends up on the floor or the countertop. Once he’s done, he brushes his hands on the apron and wipes his forehead with his arm. “Can you put it in the oven? You guys preheated it, right?”
You hum in confirmation, carefully placing the tin in the oven as Mingyu steps over Daeshim to try and get to the sink. You frown at your brother, who’s been scouring for something since you walked in. “What the hell are you even looking for?”
“Strawberry milk.”
“I drank it all.”
Daeshim huffs. “Of course you did.” He stands, slamming the fridge door with a dramatic flick of his wrist before hastily making his way out of the kitchen and towards the exit. “I’m gonna go to the convenience store to get some.”
“Wha— No, you have to help clean—”
“Can’t hear you!”
There’s a few more footsteps and the sound of Daeshim struggling to put his shoes on before the door inevitably slams shut.
You don’t let the shock of your brother’s irritating audacity bother you for too long. The way your fingers swipe through your phone to find his contact is lightning quick, but the first call is sent to voicemail and before you can even try his cell a second time, you find that you’re blocked.
Prick.
Mingyu’s humming catches your attention. You look up from your phone to find him with his back against the sink. “Voicemail?”
“Blocked.”
Mingyu snorts. “Of course.”
You send him an awkward smile before turning away so you don’t have to face him. You and Mingyu haven’t spoken since last week on that trip out of town; after the two of you slipped back inside, no words were exchanged except for an apprehensive goodnight when Seokmin dropped you off at home.
With friends as nosy as your own, privacy is hard to come by, but now, in their absence, there’s nothing more you want than a buffer. The tension’s become more palpable without a third party, and your palms are getting clammy at just the thought of searching for an excuse to kick Mingyu out of the house without hurting his feelings.
(Why do you care? He hurt you first, didn’t he?)
“Hey,” Mingyu calls out tentatively. “Do you want me to help clean up? It’s a mess in here.” When you don’t reply, he adds, “I don’t want you to do this all by yourself.”
You take a look at the kitchen around you and decide that you don’t want him to leave, either.
“Okay.”
Mingyu grins. “Okay.”
It doesn’t take long for the two of you to find a system that’s not messy or chaotic or involves stepping into the other’s path — you and Mingyu have always been like that, like a cohesive unit. The feeling that shoots through your veins at the realization that you still are is nothing short of euphoric.
Before you know it, the kitchen is clean. The surface sparkles as Mingyu swipes a finger at it to see if there’s anything he’s missed, looking up at you with fleeting disappointment.
You think he’s about to announce that it’s time for him to go, but he surprises you when what comes out of his mouth is a question instead.
“Can I ask you something?”
You press yourself against the counter, thankful for the kitchen island acting as a barrier between you both. “Sure.”
“If we…” he pauses. Regret already begins to fester in his skin, pulled down by the weight of his frown and the pinch in his eyebrows. “Uh, never mind.”
Your heart lurches in your ribcage. “Mingyu—”
“It’s fine,” he assures but his smile is tight, and his tone says otherwise, “I should probably head back. I’ll — uh — I’ll see you?”
You gnaw at your bottom lip. “Yeah,” you say, ignoring the way your heart begins to crack as Mingyu unties the apron and slips it over his head. “Yeah, I’ll see you.”
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A worrying cloud has attached itself to you, nibbling on every last bit of your sanity like a parasite. Because something is wrong, you’re sure of it, even if everyone around you acts otherwise. Seokmin still laughs and makes bad jokes, Minghao still scolds you for not bundling up more when it’s so cold outside, and Mingyu still attracts attention and reaches for your hand and pokes your cheek whenever you’re not paying enough attention to him.
Everything is normal.
(But…)
“Does this look stupid?” Mingyu asks, staring at the banner he’s hung up.
Minghao grabs a macaroon from the table and rearranges the assortment, so it looks like he never laid a finger on it. “Yes.”
Mingyu huffs before turning to you. “Is it really?”
“It’s a little crooked,” you say, taking your eyes off him for a moment when Minghao presses the macaroon into your palm after making a face to suggest he doesn’t like it.
As Mingyu assesses the best way to fix the Happy Birthday! banner, Minghao starts poking at the pile of presents. You frown, kicking his ankle with your foot in an attempt to get him to stop. He only flicks your shoulder in response.
“Don’t touch those,” you hiss.
“I’m just trying to guess what other people got him,” Minghao retorts.
You deadpan, “You’re sizing up the competition.”
“Yes,” he confirms, “I need to make sure my present is better than all of these.”
“You got him a gift card to Party City. I didn’t even know they had those.”
“He can use it for Halloween!”
“Halloween is nine months away.”
“Oh, whatever,” Minghao grumbles. “Seungkwan will find some sort of use for it. All that matters is that my present isn’t the worst one.” He turns to you, jabbing a finger at your shoulder. “Hey, wait, what did you get him?”
You push his wrist as a scowl takes over your previous amused expression. “What’s it to you?”
“You’re a horrible gift-giver.”
“That’s not true!” you object, immediately turning to walk over to Mingyu, who’s staring at the banner in distress. “Gyu! I need to ask you something—”
“Nuh-uh, you can’t ask him, he’ll agree with you!”
You mockingly pout at Minghao before tugging Mingyu’s sleeve. “Hey, babe, question.”
Mingyu’s more than happy to have his attention on something else, letting his hands that were previously taping up the banner fall onto your shoulders. “What’s up?”
“I’m a good gift-giver, right?”
A moment passes. You scoff. Minghao cackles.
“Listen—”
“What the hell?”
“I love you and everything,” Mingyu begins, “but you really aren’t.”
“I hate you.”
“You don’t,” he says quickly. “You love me. Even though you gave me a terrible birthday present last year.”
“You said you liked that apron!”
Minghao pipes up, “There’s a reason why he leaves it at your house, Y/N.”
You gasp, pointing an accusing finger at your boyfriend’s chest. Before you have a chance to defend your honour, Seokmin comes barrelling into the rented community centre, carrying two boxes of used decorations.
“Hey, guys,” he exhales, out of breath, dropping the large containers on the floor with a relieved huff. “So, the guests are coming in, like, twenty minutes, and Chan’s getting Seungkwan here in forty-five, so that should give us enough time to finish decorating… Mingyu, I thought I told you to deal with the banner?”
“It’s not cooperating with me,” your boyfriend whines.
Seokmin rolls his eyes before stomping over to the wall to fix the banner himself. Mingyu follows, grabbing the tape on his way so he can help. They don’t talk, at least not at a volume that allows you to hear what they’re saying — it’s only heated whispers that are exchanged, and you catch a glimpse of Mingyu’s nervous expression before it disappears completely.
He looks over his shoulder and flashes you a smile and it’s the same one you’ve seen him give everyone else. It’s a mask.
This isn’t something you should be on the receiving end of.
You open your mouth to say something — to say what, exactly, you aren’t sure — but Minghao tugs at your wrists and holds up a packet of balloons.
“We should start doing something before Seokmin gets mad,” he says before dragging you out of Seokmin and Mingyu’s earshot.
It’ll be okay, you think. This will pass over and your friend group will still be as close as you can be once university comes and you and Mingyu pack your bags, leaving this small town behind.
(But your worries refuse to let go; they’ve seeped into your bones, and you think their weight may crush you until you’re broken beyond repair. But ignorance is bliss, isn’t it? That’s what you’ve always said to yourself. And you’ve never needed to worry about something like this, whatever it is, before).
Everything will be fine.
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Everything will not be fine, and you aren’t sure why Minghao thought it would be, but he was unbelievably wrong.
A rainy day has caused a picnic in the park to turn into a board game night at Seokmin’s house, and a homicidal game of Monopoly (a skit between Chan and Seokmin had been the last straw before Minghao flipped the board over) quickly transformed into a homicidal game of Twister. Before you is a jungle of limbs, and you’re glad that you were fast enough to volunteer to spin the wheel so you wouldn’t be caught in the inevitable crossfire.
“Left hand, red.”
Chan’s complaints come immediately.
“Chan,” Seungkwan warns, “I will kill you if you try to push me off.”
“I haven’t even moved yet.”
Seungkwan mocks his words with a high-pitched tone that barely resembles Chan’s voice before Minghao scolds them to cut it out and hurry up. Chan scoffs indignantly before moving his hand to a free red circle, struggling to find his balance.
“Are you good?” you ask blankly.
“Fine,” he grits out, “Just go so it gets to my turn faster.”
“Go slower!” Vernon exclaims from beside you, the first to be eliminated with his phone in one hand and a handful of popcorn in the other.
“Fuck you, Vernon!”
You spin the wheel. “Hao, right foot, green.”
Minghao huffs, but his new position, although uncomfortable, has given him the perfect opportunity to sabotage Seokmin. Almost as if they can sense your thoughts, your friends look at each other, one mischievous and the other in warning, before Minghao fakes a move, successfully luring Seokmin into his trap when the latter flinches and flails like a fish out of water before landing on his side.
Seokmin groans, sitting up and rubbing his ribcage as everyone laughs. He looks to you, giving you those puppy-dog eyes that always manage to worm him out of any undesirable situation he’s ever found himself in, but you only shrug helplessly in response. Seokmin sighs, flicking Minghao’s forehead, before making he settles beside you in all his pouty, wronged glory.
“It’s okay,” Vernon says from your other side, phone speaker pressed against his ear as a video of what just occurred plays on the phone. The sound of Seokmin’s yelp of surprise from 30 seconds ago causes your lips to twitch upwards. “You’ll get them next time!”
Seokmin leans into your shoulder. “Y/N! He’s making fun of me!”
You pat him reassuringly. “You’ll survive, don’t worry.”
“Hey!” Seungkwan interrupts. “Spin the wheel! It’s my turn.”
“Okay, okay! Right foot, blue.”
Much to your surprise, the rest of the game goes by smoothly with Seungkwan as the victor. Chan is beside himself, grumbling with his arms crossed as Seungkwan mimics the fall that led to his demise. When Chan opens his mouth to snap back, Minghao reaches over Vernon’s lap for the remote to increase the volume of the TV.
Once their argument has died down, Chan suggests, “Does anyone want to play Cards Against Humanity?”
“Lame, absolutely not,” Seokmin replies instantly. “I’m hungry.”
Seungkwan makes himself comfortable on the armchair. “Pizza should be coming soon. Who ordered it, anyway?” Mingyu raises his hand. “What did you get?”
“One cheese, one pepperoni.”
Chan boos, making a comment about the mediocre order which Mingyu skillfully brushes off, immune to his friends’ instigations after years of receiving them.
Minghao pokes Mingyu with his foot. “Can you check to see what time it’ll get here?”
Mingyu unlocks his phone while Vernon begins complaining about having to register for classes first thing tomorrow morning. His whines are halted, however, when Mingyu sharply inhales a breath and clears his throat sheepishly.
You raise an eyebrow. Everyone in the room knows what that means.
“Oh, what did you do now?”
“Seungkwan! What makes you think I did something wrong?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
Mingyu shakes his head before turning his phone so the screen is facing all of you. The screen says the order’s been good to go for the past five minutes, but— “I accidentally ordered for pick-up, not delivery.”
Chan rolls his eyes. “Then go pick it up.”
“What?”
“Well, it says the order’s ready, right? Go pick it up.”
“But I’m so comfortable here.”
“And we’re hungry.”
“Why does it have to be me?”
“Whose fault is it that the pizza guy isn’t on Seokmin’s doorstep right now?”
Mingyu huffs, clearly having run out of retorts. He’s quick to admit defeat, pushing himself off the couch and adjusting the hoodie that’s ridden up his torso. You watch his every move, ignoring Minghao’s gaze.
Just as he begins searching for his car keys, Minghao pipes up, “You shouldn’t go alone, though.”
Mingyu frowns. “Huh? Why not?”
“Because you’re clumsy and you’ll drop something.”
“Can’t you guys put some faith in me—?”
“Y/N could go with you.”
Mingyu closes his mouth, trapping any more complaints behind his teeth. You stare at Minghao like a deer caught in headlights.
Vernon is the first to protest, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “I don’t—”
“Mingyu’s clumsy and he’ll drop something,” Minghao repeats impatiently. He shares a glance with Seokmin, who seems to understand Minghao’s intentions in milliseconds.
“Yeah, and we can’t let Y/N go by themselves because the last time they drove they ran over my mailbox.”
You squawk in protest. “That was when I was sixteen, I—”
“And I’ve feared you every time you’ve gotten behind a wheel ever since,” Seokmin says. He swiftly dodges Seungkwan’s questioning nudge and Chan’s panic, giving you the biggest smile he can muster before letting his eyes land back on Minghao.
Minghao looks at you, apologetic and stern all at once. “The ride will only be, like, ten minutes. Five minutes there and back,” he shrugs, turning away to face the TV. “You’re both adults, you’ll be fine.”
You think you might strangle them.
“Okay,” Mingyu says from behind you. You look at him, he stares back. “We’ll be okay. Right?”
He’s offering you one last final chance to back out. Your fingers twitch at your side before you gulp, nodding. “Yeah, we’ll be okay.”
You’re shoved out the door before you can even blink, wearing Seokmin’s old Crocs instead of the sneakers you had arrived with (“These are faster to put on, make haste, make haste! Get out of here, I want my pizza!”). You sink further and further into the passenger seat as Mingyu pulls out of the driveway, trying your best to focus on anything besides him.
But it proves to be impossible. The air freshener is the same as it was all those years ago, the same cheap dog bobblehead is on the dashboard, the pack of gum he’s left in the cupholder is the same one he used to buy in bulk at the supermarket. Nothing in here has changed, as if the vehicle is stuck in time, refusing to move forward despite all the years that have passed.
Mingyu must’ve noticed you staring at the gum because he picks it up and hands it to you in silent offering. You shake your head, and he puts it down.
The awkwardness might as well eat you whole.
The radio does nothing to ease the tension when the next song that plays is about heartbreak and being left behind while everyone moves on. Your sanity is hanging on by a thread that might snap if you’re in this car any longer.
In the corner of your eye, Mingyu opens his mouth to speak, but he decides against it when the pizza parlour comes into view. He swiftly parks by the front entrance, and once you get out, you notice that the car is centred perfectly between the lines.
You suppose he’s gotten better at driving over the years. The last time you were here, he’d parked so crookedly your stomach hurt from laughing.
“Hey,” Mingyu says, staring at you quizzically. “Are you good?”
“Yeah,” you murmur, slipping past him when he holds the door open for you. “Thanks.”
He walks up to the counter, saying his order number to the employee and nodding understandingly when she explains that one of the pizzas had been dropped on the floor and they’ve gone to remake the order. He returns to you — beside you, as if it has always been his rightful place — hands tucked into his pockets as he sways on the balls of his feet.
This must be some form of torture, you think. Minghao and Seokmin have done this in retaliation for every bad thing you’ve ever done to them.
(“Seokmin and I love you both,” Minghao confesses over the phone, face blurry due to your unpredictable wi-fi, “You know that, right?”
“I do.”
“And we really think you should talk to each other,” he says, and even though you’re not looking at your phone, you can tell he’s staring at you in that analytical way of his while you try to finish an assignment. “Maybe it’ll do you some good.”
You sigh. “Hao—”
“It’s been three months. Let him explain.”
“I did,” you hiss. “He was the one that left.”
Silence. You rub your temples.
When you finally look at Minghao, he’s remorseful. “Sorry,” he murmurs, flopping onto his bed and letting his camera pan up to the ceiling. You can no longer see his face, but you can hear the despair in his voice. “It’s just hard, being in the middle of this.”
“I’m not asking you to pick sides.”
“I know that,” he argues softly. “I just want everything to go back to normal.”)
You dig your nails into your skin as Mingyu begins humming to a song playing over the speakers. It’s one that they’ve been playing for years, a pop song that will have to be pried out of a radio host’s dead, cold hands.
It’s a song Mingyu despises.
(It’s so catchy, though, he used to tell you, ashamed. You need to save me from it).
When Daeshim had called you at the end of the semester, the first thing out of his lips was a question about your return. You had agreed with reluctance, and he said something about how long it’s been, how time heals all wounds, that nothing should hurt anymore.
But three years cannot erase a lifetime.
You foolishly thought it could. When you arrived, you pretended you didn’t see an old photo of him taped on your closet door. When you first saw him at the supermarket, you ignored the way his hand twitched to reach over to you. When he talked to you outside of that nightclub, you evaded the familiarity of his warmth like it was a virus.
You foolishly thought it was enough. You built a wall of indifference around yourself, but it had begun to chip away just as quickly as you constructed it. It was never foolproof. It was never made of stone, but of cards.
One glance from Mingyu and it all comes tumbling down.
“Minghao told me a few days ago that you wanted to talk,” Mingyu says once the song has ended.
“Yeah.”
“But you don’t want to.”
“Not yet, no.”
“Well,” he says, taking a step towards the counter when the employee calls out his order number, “whenever you’re ready to, I’m here.”
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“Something’s wrong.”
He understands what you mean. You’re not referring to the TV that won’t play the movie or the takeout that tastes a little off. You look at him nervously, afraid to break the flimsy spell of calm he’s enchanted on everything he touches.
“Yeah,” he replies, gripping the armrest tightly.
You blink at him, waiting for something he won’t offer. For a moment, he thinks you might push, but you have never been one to do so; you have always believed that doing something like that only throws you down a road of hurt.
So, he shouldn’t be surprised when you eventually nod in defeat.
“Well,” you say with a smile reserved for strangers you can only pretend to care about, “if you need to talk about it, I’m here.”
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Four friends occupy a small corner of the skatepark. One of them is on the ramps, appearing in the air to do a trick before disappearing from sight. Another is rolling down the concrete, hands stretched out to maintain balance.
Two sit in the shade, watching.
“Do you think they’ll talk soon?” one of them asks, a taller boy with light brown hair and a beauty mark near the apple of his cheek.
The other, dressed in all black despite the sweltering heat, runs a hand through his mullet. “I don’t know, Seokmin. Probably. Hopefully.”
“Do you think they’re mad at us for forcing them to get the pizza?”
“Yes.”
Seokmin snorts, but his amusement is short-lived. He continues to observe his friends as they stray further and further from each other. He catches the way they glance over their shoulders in concern.
“They’re stupid, aren’t they, Minghao?” he finally says. The boy beside him hums in agreement. “Were they always like this in high school?”
“I don’t think so,” Minghao replies. “If they were, I don’t know how I managed to survive.”
“You’re dramatic.”
“Hypocrite.”
Seokmin sticks his tongue out. Then, quietly, as if the other two friends will hear, he says, “Well, they need to hurry up and talk. I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” he grumbles. “Maybe if I just told Y/N about it sooner, or pushed Mingyu—”
“Probably,” Minghao interrupts before Seokmin can concoct any more what-ifs from his brain. His stomach churns at the numerous possibilities he will never see. “But there’s nothing we can do it about it now.”
“Maybe things would be better if we did things differently.”
“Yeah, but the past is the past. Besides,” he sighs, watching one friend trip on his way towards them and the other struggle to stop themselves on the board, “this isn’t our problem to fix. I don’t think it ever was. We’ll just leave it to them.”
“You really think they’ll work it out?”
“God. I really hope so. It would put all of us out of our misery.”
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Spring has long since bled into winter when you find yourself at the skatepark, wearing a sweater that was never yours with your heart dangling from its sleeve. It’s chilly at this hour of the morning when the world is quiet and your denial is prominent, and it gets even colder when your name falls from Mingyu’s lips and his touch is uncharacteristically icy against your skin.
You rip your wrist from his grasp and hurt flashes across his face before he takes a step back.
“I—” he gulps, “you shouldn’t run out like that.”
He purses his lips, and you notice how chapped they’ve gotten over the past few days. Everything about him has roughened up — it goes farther than his dry hands and the unruly state of his hair; he’s grown distant. He looks at you with a mixture of emotions you can’t explain, his words have are clipped, and you aren’t sure how long this behaviour would’ve gone on for if you hadn’t caught him signing up for classes at a university he never told you he was going to attend.
“You lied to me.”
He exhales shakily. “I know. I’m sorry, I—” he rubs a hand over his face because he doesn’t know what to say. Mingyu isn’t like this. People would kill to own even a sliver of his charisma; it’s so easy for him to talk himself out of things, but the words have died in his mouth before they even reached the tip of his tongue.
“You—You should’ve told me,” you stammer. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Mingyu has never felt this moronic before, standing before you and stretching his hand in your direction only to watch how, every time without fail, you take a step back as if any contact from him will result in third-degree burns.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, “But you were already so worried about all of us growing apart after graduation, and I didn’t want to add onto that stress. So I kept putting it off, and I shouldn’t have, I know that, I just—” his face falls, “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
It takes everything in him not to flinch when your anger flares. Your resolve is rotting away to dissolve into the morning air; he thinks, offhandedly, that the molecules of your decaying calm have collided once again and found purchase over his head. A cloud to loom over him, made up of your melancholy and his guilt.
“You didn’t want to hurt me,” you say incredulously, in a tone so hurt that Mingyu’s heart drops. “Well, look where we are now, Mingyu.”
He doesn’t like the position he’s put the both of you in. He doesn’t like how this conversation is tainting every happy memory he ever had at this skatepark. He wonders if he’ll see your hurt expression every time he closes his eyes.
This could’ve been avoided, he’s aware of that. Seokmin made sure to voice his disapproval every time they crossed paths, Minghao’s veil of indifference was slowly crumbling with each passing day, and Seungkwan — who made the mistake of being around when Mingyu let it slip that his post-graduation plans didn’t match yours — grew more nervous than all of them combined.
For as long as he can remember, everyone he knows has never done well with secrets. He’s always been a firm believer that they’re parasitic, the reason behind every downfall he’s ever had the displeasure of witnessing. But that was before he had a secret worth keeping.
(It does not matter if it’s worth it or not. At the end of the day, he was right all along. They are infectious, deadly little things).
Soon after he was born, it was common belief amongst townsfolk that he would change the world. It did not matter how; they would support him regardless. He thinks his entire being may as well have been made from diamonds with how he was created to be the star of something he never asked to be part of.
It’s exhausting.
The university you two had chosen at fifteen-years-old was perfect for you. When you took the virtual tours and exchanged messages with its students, you looked like you had stepped right out of a fairy tale. But it was two hours away from this town, so far yet so close to the very thing that’s been draining him of energy, and he quickly came to realize last summer that your dream school was the last thing he wanted.
But you would’ve followed him anywhere. If it weren’t for his, Minghao, and Seokmin’s insistence, you would’ve chosen to stay at home, because you never liked the idea of leaving everything behind.
That’s where you and he differ.
And he couldn’t take that from you.
Because you and him were always believed to be cut from the same cloth — model students, the perfect fit — but everything he touched tarnished and everything you touched turned to gold dust. He’s hidden behind an illusion all his life, but he knows for a fact that you’re meant to go above and beyond every expectation that’s ever been set for you.
Who is he to get in the way of that?
(He’s sure the only thing that’s setting you back is him. It has always been him. It’s only a matter of time before you realize it, too).
“I love you,” he confesses suddenly, startling you to your core. “And I’m so sorry.”
You look at him warily. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I fucked up,” he says.
“Yeah, you did.”
“But…” he trails off. When your eyes meet, something ignites inside of you.
(You have always known him better than any of them ever could).
“Mingyu—”
“Maybe it’s for the best if we—”
“Mingyu.”
He closes his eyes and hopes it’s enough to push the tears back. “I love you,” he says again, but his lips are quivering, and a sob threatens to escape the confines of his throat. “I love you so much that it physically hurt to do that to you, but it was for the better—”
Disbelief engulfs you in an instant, and you take a spontaneous step towards him in your surprise. “You’re not making a lot of sense right now,” you say, frantic, “I’m still really fucking mad at you, but we can talk this out, because I have no idea what you’re—”
“Just listen to me, Y/N, I don’t think—”
“You listen to me, because—”
“You deserve so much better than this, don’t you know that?” he snaps, shrinking into himself seconds later. His voice shakes with frustration. This hurts him beyond your imagination, but he’d do anything for you, even if it ends with him sporting wounds that will never heal. “And I’m holding you back, and I— I can’t do that to you. Not anymore.”
A sob melts into your words before you can stop it. “So you think the best way to fix that is to move across the country?”
“There were better ways to go about it,” he admits. “Ways that wouldn’t have ended like this, but I stand by what I said, Y/N.”
“Don’t do this, Mingyu. You don’t get to—” you stutter, inhaling hastily to regain your composure before looking him through your teary vision, “—you don’t get to break up with me over something as stupid as this.”
“I don’t deserve you,” he says it like a mantra, like it’s engraved into his brain and there’s no use trying to rid him of it.
“You don’t get to decide that!” you exclaim. “And even if that was true, it doesn’t matter to me. We love each other, Mingyu, isn’t that enough?”
You go to cup his face. This time, it’s he who takes a step back, and his heart screeches in pain at the sight of your crestfallen face.
“Maybe if I—” he runs a hand through his hair and tugs at the strands, forcing himself to continue, “Maybe if I loved you less, I’d let myself be selfish. But that’s not the case. That’s never been the case.”
That day you do not leave the skatepark with a scrape on your knee or a new bruise on your shins. But you don’t leave unscathed, either.
Your heart has been ripped from your chest, and Kim Mingyu carries the remnants of it with him.
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Mingyu always liked people-watching.
He’d tell you it was nice to be on the other side of the microscope; to observe, not be observed. On the trips out of town, he’d sit anywhere that was bustling with people and make up stories about anyone who caught his eye: he’s cheating on his wife with his high school sweetheart, or she’s talking to her estranged cousin and she’s threatening to get a restraining order, or that little boy was meant to be a twin but he ate his sibling in the womb.
“That guy’s still in love with his ex-girlfriend even though they broke up a decade ago,” Mingyu says, subtly nodding towards a man supervising his child on the ramps.
The snort that escapes you dents the discomfort hanging in the air. “He reached out to her on Facebook, and it turns out she’s coming to visit.”
“They’re going to meet in the city. He told his wife he has work stuff.”
“His wife’s suspicious. She’s definitely hiring a PI.”
“But the PI sucks, he’s a fake and a scammer. He ends up tailing the wrong guy.”
“And the wife spent good money on him, too.”
“But she doesn’t really care since she paid the investigator using her husband’s money.”
“Good for her! It’s what he deserves for cheating.”
You smile, pressing your legs against your chest as you watch the kid soar through the park on her rollerskates. Her laughter’s loud, and you allow it to ring in your ears to momentarily distract yourself from Mingyu.
It’s overwhelming being here next to him. You’ve been here multiple times since you’ve come home, but the nostalgia and ache of watching him from afar does not compare to what you feel now that he’s by your side, sitting stiff on the park bench with his hands clasped in his lap. The dull throb in your chest becomes more prominent when he glances and catches your eye, hiding his yearning beneath a thin veil of indifference.
You turn away, and that’s enough for him to adorn the last bit of confidence he has. “Why’d you call me here?”
Resting your cheek against your knee, you murmur, “You know why I called you here.”
It does not matter that he’s known you almost as long as you’ve been alive — a room full of newborns would realize that he’s here because you want an explanation.
Closure really would be nice.
“Okay,” he breathes. “Ask me anything.”
When you slipped out of your house this morning, full of anticipation, you thought that it’d be hard for you to find the words. But you’ve stuffed the curiosity down your throat long enough. For years, all you could feel was a weight on your esophagus; the air you’ve been inhaling and expelling is nothing if not tainted with heartbreak, and you crave the feeling of fresh air again — something that’s free from the insecurities and the anguish and everything in between.
“Back then, did you tell Minghao we fought?” you ask. “Because he seems to think that we did. Every time he called me that’s all he would ask. Have you and Mingyu stopped fighting?”
He tilts his head. “Would you not say that was a fight?”
“Well, no,” you reply. “You just ended it, and I was trying to get you not to.”
Mingyu flinches but he’s quick to recover. “Nothing could’ve changed my mind back then.”
“Why?” you demand, unable to hide your despair.
Mingyu finally looks at you without tearing his gaze away. He’s exhausted, and you aren’t sure if it’s because of how early it is or if he’s just as drained from all of this as you are. The limbo between forgiveness and disdain was never made for the weak.
“Listen, I—”
“You told me you didn’t deserve me,” you say, “You don’t get to decide that.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, “I thought I could’ve been enough for you — I tried to be. But you always had everything planned out and I didn’t, I was living with a façade and you weren’t, and I— I just couldn’t do it anymore.”
Clenching your jaw, you say, “So, you moved.”
“I loved you,” he says quickly before you have the chance to ask him otherwise. “That was never the problem. I was scared. I guess part of me wanted to let go while you still thought I was worth it.”
“Don’t say that, Mingyu.”
“I know, I know,” he replies. “I’m working on the self-worth. It’s hard to come by.”
It hits you then, like you’re standing in the ocean as a large wave of water looms over your figure. You used to watch as everyone fawned over Mingyu as if he was untouchable, a divinity amongst men. You used to watch and lust for the days where you would turn out to be exactly the person he deserved to love.
But while Mingyu ached to be the person everyone made him out to be, you saw past your own desires and those who desired him. Through all that was carefully crafted, you saw him for who he truly was.
And you loved every inch of him. So much so that you’re convinced you’ll never be able to feel this way for anybody else.
“For what it’s worth,” you say, “back then, you were it for me. I would’ve loved you regardless.”
His gaze softens and, for a moment, sitting next to you is the same boy from all those years ago, who accepted your proposal for a date, who asked you to prom, who tattooed eight letters into your skin before slumber took you over.
“If we…” he begins carefully, “If I did things differently, do you think we could’ve made it?”
You shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’d like to think that we would’ve,” you nudge his shoulder in hopes that being playful will lighten the mood. “But none of that matters. We’re here now, and we talked.”
“We talked,” he nods. “We used to be terrible at that.”
“Not the best at communication, sure,” you smile softly. “But at least we fixed it. Better late than never.”
He bites the inside of his cheek to stop his own smile from growing any larger. “Better late than never.”
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The sun envelopes you in a warm hug the moment you sit down, a companion in the serene summer’s day. Sand sticks to your skin, adhered to it by the sweat, clinging to you as if you’re its last hope to live.
The tranquility is interrupted by a screech, and you bet with closed eyes that it’s either Mingyu, who left a while back to get some ice cream and probably dropped it, or Chan, who decided to build a sandcastle close to the ocean despite the various protests he received in response.
You crack an eye open just as the water retreats from the shore. Chan stands before his unfinished monstrosity, staring in distress, while Vernon gives him a look as if to say I told you so.
From where he lies beside you, Seokmin announces, “If it makes you feel any better, it was a little ugly.”
“You said five minutes ago that it was good!”
“I was lying to you.”
“Yeah,” Seungkwan agrees, toeing the area where the castle once resided. “The moat was fucked up, too.”
“It was a moat.”
“And yet you fucked it up.”
Chan gives them an unsavoury gesture before instructing both Vernon and Seungkwan to help him make another. Reluctant but compliant, they take the pails you’d bought last minute at the dollar store and settle themselves farther away from the shore.
Seokmin salutes them for good luck before glancing at his phone. “Is Mingyu still at the boardwalk?"
Minghao hums. “Yeah, the line for ice cream’s probably long.”
“Okay, good,” Seokmin says before poking your shoulder aggressively, ignoring your complaints about how easily you bruise. “Gives me time to interrogate you.”
“Interrogate me?” you ask incredulously. “About what?”
He raises his hand, and you prepare yourself for the worst. It’s over for you the moment Seokmin begins listing things off his fingers. “You willingly sat in the backseat with Mingyu on the way here, you willingly talked to him for the entire car ride, and you willingly offered to go with him to get ice cream.”
“Hardly things to interrogate me over.”
“Hardly things to interrogate me over,” he mimics. “Don’t be ridiculous. Are you guys dating again?”
“What?”
“Ah. Have you two eloped?”
Minghao snorts as he opens the cap to his sunscreen. “Don’t be ridiculous. They’re just engaged.”
Seokmin places a hand on his chest. “Oh, thank goodness—”
“Are you guys insane?” you shriek, briefly scanning the beach in hopes nobody heard your friends’ remarks. “We just talked yesterday.”
“Oh,” Minghao muses, throwing the sunscreen over your head for Seokmin to catch. “And that’s it?”
“That’s it,” you confirm. “What else would there be?”
Minghao shrugs as he rubs the cream onto his arms. “Nothing, I guess.”
A noise escapes Seokmin’s throat, something akin to disagreement. You whip your head to face him as he raises his hands up in defence. “What is it?” you ask him.
“I just…” he waves his hand in the air with a small pout on his lips. “I’m confused, I guess. Everything’s resolved now? Just like that? We’re all friends again?”
“I wouldn’t say we’re friends,” you huff. “I don’t know what we are, either. But we have the rest of the summer to figure that out, so why the rush?”
Seokmin leans back on his elbows. “Well, whatever the two of you are, I’m glad you two talked, it was long overdue.”
Minghao nods in agreement.
From a few feet away, Seungkwan’s voice is loud amongst the waves crashing onto shore, the families relaxing under beach umbrellas, and the seagulls soaring through the sky. “Mingyu!” he exclaims in disbelief. “You didn’t drop any!”
You can’t catch a good glimpse of him without craning your neck, but his voice alone is enough to quicken your heartbeat. “Yeah, I know,” you hear him say, “I told you guys I’m not completely hopeless. Seven Drumsticks, all in perfect condition. Vernon, did you want the original flavour?”
It only takes a couple moments before he’s in your line of sight, standing in front of you with the sun’s blinding rays crowning his head like a halo. He grins, letting his sunglasses slip down his nose so you can see his eyes, and hands you a cone.
“Thanks,” you say.
His grin widens, just a little. “Don’t mention it. Hao, which one do you want?”
Once everyone’s finished their ice cream (and after a long debate that occurred due to Chan innocently asking for advice on what to do about his roommates back at his on-campus apartment), Seungkwan manages to find a beach volleyball court that’s unoccupied and persuades everyone to participate.
One set to ten points turns into the best out of three, and when your team begins to buckle under the pressure, Seungkwan suggests something with a sinister grin. “Losing team has to get buried under the sand and stay there for fifteen minutes.”
“Ten,” Seokmin negotiates.
“Twelve.”
“Five.”
Seungkwan squints. “You can’t go lower, that’s not how a negotiation works.”
“One person from the losing team gets buried under the sand for ten minutes and has to pay for dinner,” Chan says.
Seungkwan snaps his fingers before pointing to him. “Deal.”
It all ends, as expected, with Seungkwan’s team victorious. The three boys on the other side of the net exchange high-fives before returning to you and your sullen teammates with cocky grins. Minghao urges all of you to play a game of rock, paper, scissors to decide the true loser of today, and though you feigned indifference when you fumbled the last ball, the mask speedily cracks when the last two people left is you and Mingyu.
(“A duel between lovers,” Chan sighs dramatically. Minghao pinches his side).
Your eyes meet his, and something flickers in his expression. Gone too quick for you to decipher, but something in the back of your mind tells you that you should know exactly what he’s about to do.
Seokmin booms, “Rock, paper, scissors!”
You ball your hand into a fist and Mingyu curls his fingers into his palm except for two.
“Scissors beats rock,” Vernon slaps him on the back sympathetically before pointing at the ground. “Get comfortable, dude.”
With the amount of eagerness your friends exhibit, Mingyu is buried in minutes, stiff under the copious warm dust he’s under. Seokmin, with sand sticking to his hands, ruffles Mingyu’s hair and laughs when the latter crinkles his nose in disgust. Taking his sunglasses from his bag, you place them on the bridge of nose and brush off anything that got on his face.
“Thank you,” he says.
“Don’t mention it,” you echo. “I’m sure you’ll have fun here.”
He kisses his teeth in annoyance. “Oh, I bet. Once I get out of here, I’m gonna have tan lines on my collarbone.”
You smile. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I can stay here with you.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Really?”
“You’re here for ten minutes by yourself and the reason we lost is because of me,” you say, wincing at the memory of Seokmin and Chan shouting for you to retrieve the ball despite it being too far away for you to save. “It’s the least I could do.”
“Maybe,” he murmurs. “Since I let you win rock, paper, scissors.”
You blink at him. “I’m sorry?”
“You always choose rock.”
“What? Then why’d you choose scissors?”
Mingyu attempts to shrug and scowls when he can’t.
You flick his forehead. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”
“I wanted to.”
“Of course,” you snicker. “And how are you finding it underneath all that sand?”
He doesn’t even bother to pretend to be nonchalant. “Oh, it’s the worst. It’s slightly better with you here, though.”
You turn to look at the sea. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”
“Why not?” he pouts. “I thought we were going to tell each other stuff from now on. You know, communicate better.”
“Well, still.”
“I’m just saying what I’m thinking!”
“You’re ridiculous.”
He laughs, loud and boisterous and it heals something in your very being. There’s a mirth in his eyes you haven’t seen in a long time, and you yearn to hear it again. Mingyu has always been beautiful, but he’s even more so when he’s happy, a boy so golden he could rival the sun and the stars in its beauty.
And he would win, you think.
(What you don’t know is that Mingyu thinks the same of you. Many things have changed, but one thing that never will is how much you shine. The sky and all its confidants, try as they might, would never rid you of your luster. To him, they’ll never prevail).
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you question.
He smiles. “No reason.”
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Considering the fact that you spent a good part of your childhood running around the mall and giving into the urge of buying things you’ll never need, it’s a surprise that you forgot just how busy it gets during the summer.
(“Wow,” Mingyu had said. “You avoid me and this town for three years and suddenly you forget everything about it?”)
(He, along with everyone you’ve grown up with, will never let you live this down).
It’s a miracle the four of you even found somewhere to sit in the food court — a booth, no less. Part of you wonders if Seokmin sweet-talked a family into giving up this table for him, and you feel only a sliver of pity for whoever has to eat in an area that’s affected by the vibrant rays of the sun.
Once Minghao and Seokmin have returned from buying their food, they send you and Mingyu off to get your lunch with the promise that they’ll wait for you both before they start eating. Mingyu walks ahead, careful not to trip over anyone as he observes the signs of each food joint you pass, and glances over his shoulder to make sure you haven’t gotten lost in the crowd amid his indecision.
“What are you getting?” he asks once the two of you can hear each other above the many mallgoers.
“Don’t know. Pad Thai, maybe.”
“Nice. I was thinking getting a burger at Burger King, but…” he gestures towards the long line and winces. “I don’t have the patience for that.”
“So?”
“So, what?”
“What are you going to eat then?”
“Oh,” Mingyu frowns before shrugging nonchalantly. “Pad Thai it is, then. I think that has the shortest line.”
“Really? When we passed by KFC it didn’t look too bad—”
Mingyu turns, pointing to the Thai place across from you. “Pad Thai! Let’s go before the line gets any longer,” he proclaims, wrapping a hand around your elbow and gently tugging you towards the smell of stir-fry.
It’s easy to fall back into rhythm with Mingyu — so much so that it scares you, just a little. While you assumed it wouldn’t have been too weird once the barrier of the old relationship was removed, you hadn’t thought it would’ve been this comfortable. You assumed everything would be stilted for a short period before the puzzle pieces returned to their places, but this was unpredictable. This is familiar (everything with Mingyu always is); more familiar than riding a bike, or the scar on your knee, or your mom’s tendency to hover over you now that you’ve returned.
His skin against yours all while offering to lend you his jacket and pay for your food could be seen as simple acts of friendship — and if it were anybody else, you would agree, but your ties with each other, since the beginning of time, have regularly toed the line of romantic. It is a fact you cannot deny, and trying to do so would be like saying the sky is green or oxygen isn’t a requirement for survival.
The void in your chest used to be in the shape of him — freshly eighteen and brought down by his expectations along with everybody else’s — and you have tried other remedies to heal it: avoidance, sinking into other people’s sheets, tossing every physical memory you have of him in a box that you never ended up donating.
Who knew that the void would be filled by the same boy who caused it? Only this time, he’s standing in front of you, a little taller, sporting a different haircut, and learning how to live on his own terms.
“Fuck,” he says as he digs through his wallet. “I think I don’t have any cash to pay with. Man, I really didn’t want to use my credit card today.”
“It’s fine,” you say. “I’ll pay. You already gave me your jacket even though I said you didn’t have to.”
“You were cold,” he argues. “If you didn’t want me to give it to you, then maybe don’t get cold next time.”
You scoff. “Well, tell whoever’s managing the A/C to turn it down. It’s like stepping into a freezer in here.”
Mingyu mutters — something along the lines of so dramatic — before he shifts the position of his open wallet in his hands and continues digging for bills that aren’t there. What is there, however, is a photo all too familiar.
You place a hand on his wrist to stop him from moving. “Hey, is that a picture of me?”
Mingyu freezes. Then, he pulls away from your grip. “No.”
“Okay. Then who was it?”
You stare at each other for a beat too long, interrupted by someone asking if you can move up the line, and it’s only then that Mingyu turns away, bashful, and murmuring, “Okay, fine. It’s you.”
You try not to let the giddiness get to you. “And why, exactly, do you have a picture of me in there?”
“It’s not just you,” he lies. “Minghao and Seokmin are also in there.”
“No, I don’t think so,” you reply matter-of-factly. “I got a good glimpse, and I think it was just me.”
He tuts. “Believe what you want to believe.”
“I’m choosing to believe the truth.”
He sulks, taking another step towards the register. “You’re finding this too funny for my liking.”
“I’m not! I think it’s cute,” you object. “Why is it in there in the first place?”
“Maybe I just wanted to put it in there, it’s a good photo!”
“Of course.”
“You’re photogenic,” he adds. “Besides, what’s wrong with keeping a photo of my friend in my wallet?”
The question escapes you before you can think twice. “Is that what we are?”
Mingyu quietens, uncertain. Then, after rapidly fighting an internal battle, he says, “Before everything else, you’re my best friend.”
You nod because that’s the case for you, too. “But?”
His digs his teeth into his bottom lip before he opens his mouth, the answer on the tip of his tongue.
“I—”
“Next, please!”
Mingyu flinches, but it only takes a glance at the long line behind him before he’s grabbing his credit card. “C’mon,” he interlocks his pinky with yours. “Order what you want, it’s on me.”
“Mingyu—”
He gives you a smile. “It’s fine,” he assures quietly. “I want to.”
(In his wallet is a candid polaroid — a person on the beach, laughing at a joke made by someone who hasn’t been photographed. The picture has no crinkles, either because it’s deeply cherished or because it’s new — maybe both is the case.
It replaces an older photo, one that’s years old, taken while he was in high school of the same person. Still candid, still radiant, still laughing. He’s treasured it for years, but he decides it’s time to relocate it. Maybe when he gets back to his apartment, he’ll put it on his fridge. It was looking a little empty, anyway).
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Mingyu doesn’t particularly like it here. It brings up old feelings he’s working to retire as well as a medley of insecurities and unease.
But he would be lying if he said that the bad was the only thing this town has to offer.
The skatepark brings comfort, a corner of the world where freedom comes from touching the sky in the seconds his board lifts from the ground, a playground of cement and ramps and splintered benches found under trees that have been alive far longer than he has. It comes from his friends’ homes; Seungkwan’s spacious backyard and Seokmin’s living room where drink rings litter the coffee table as a consequence of never using the coasters.
It comes from the people. It comes from his family, who hugs him tight and listens to every concern he has under the sun. It comes from his friends, a group of rambunctious people who he has too many inside jokes with, and who drag him into shenanigans he has no option of backing out of.
It comes from you. Comfort always comes from you.
From where he stands in the corner, he watches you scour the karaoke song book, protesting all of Chan’s suggestions before entering a number onto the TV. Then you squint at the lyrics on the screen before you begin singing.
The others in the living room are in awe, captivated despite your inability to hold a note. Your gleeful smile makes up for what you lack in the singing department, and Mingyu supposes he’s no different than everybody else when you meet his eyes in the crowd and his palms begin to sweat. You hold his gaze for far too long, causing you to lose your spot in the song, and you sheepishly turn away before trying to make up for your mistakes.
He stays until the end, the loudest to clap despite your score being nothing exciting (it’s exciting to him, and that’s all that matters), and raises his hand in greeting with a silent promise to see you later when you’re pulled into a conversation with someone you used to play badminton with.
He ducks into the kitchen before he’s forced to engage in more small talk with another person. His footsteps quicken along with his growing desire to grab another beer, hidden behind the soda cans Seungkwan shoved inside for the party.
(Mingyu doesn’t entirely know what or who this party is for. He only recalls the texts between him and Minghao three days prior:
hao 👨‍🎨 > party at seungkwan’s on saturday
mingyu > not coming
hao 👨‍🎨 > 😐 ok ur loss > y/n is tho
mingyu > … i’ll bring my mom’s brownies).
Mingyu opens the can the moment it’s in his hands, relishing in the temporary sound of fizzing before taking a sip. The only straggler in the kitchen is him; everyone gathered in the living room the moment Seungkwan turned the karaoke machine on. He situates himself so he can see just through the threshold, keeping an eye out for the moment you’re free so he can pull you aside to talk.
About what, he doesn’t know. Winging it has always been his thing.
“Yo, Mingyu,” Seokmin greets as he makes his way to the fridge. “What are you doing in here?”
“Hiding.”
“It’s nice to know some things haven’t changed,” Seokmin quips, digging through the variety of drinks, “you’re still a loser.”
“You love me.”
“Oh, of course, that was never in question. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re a loser.”
Mingyu rolls his eyes. “I hate you.”
“Uh-huh.”
“What are you looking for?”
“Sprite for me, beer for Vernon.” He stands to his full height and cranes his neck to look at Mingyu around the fridge door. “Was that the last of it?”
“I think so, yeah.”
Seokmin doesn’t look that defeated when he grabs two cans of Sprite. “Maybe that’s for the best. He’s drunk enough as it is.” Off Mingyu’s confusion, Seokmin adds, “I know, he never gets wasted, but he’s on the waitlist for a screenwriting class, so he’s upset beyond repair.”
“And he’s always saying everyone else is more dramatic than he is.”
“Right? He’s only second on the waitlist, too.”
Mingyu laughs but his eyes involuntarily flicker back to the door to see if you’re still talking to other people. He frowns when he notices you’ve disappeared from where he spotted you last, and he debates taking out his phone and texting you to ask where you are.
Seokmin kisses his teeth. “Are you sure you want to stay in here by yourself? Y/N probably wants to talk to you.”
“They’re talking to other people. I’m fine waiting it out.”
Seokmin looks like he’s going to oppose Mingyu’s decisions, but he opts for shrugging instead. “Alright, if you say so. Don’t wait too long, though.”
“I won’t,” Mingyu promises. Seokmin begins his trek back to the living room, one soda dangling from each hand, when Mingyu suddenly calls out, “Hey, wait.”
Seokmin falters awkwardly in his step before turning around with furrowed eyebrows. “Yeah?”
“I, uh,” Mingyu rubs his neck, wincing. “I don’t think I ever apologized.”
The confusion on Seokmin’s face is wiped away to be replaced with triumph. He points an accusatory finger at his friend while his voice echoes in the four walls of the Boo kitchen. “I knew it! You did steal my beanie, you liar, the next time I visit you, I’m taking it back, and it better be in good condition! I can’t believe you took it with you across the country, that’s so fucked up—”
“Huh? No, what?” Mingyu says in disbelief. “For the last time, I didn’t steal your beanie—”
“Okay, sure, then who was it, then?”
“I don’t know!”
“Then what are you apologizing for?”
“For not listening to you!” Mingyu exclaims. “Back then, you told me to tell Y/N the truth and I didn’t listen when I should have. If I did, you and Hao wouldn’t have been put in the middle of everything.”
“Oh,” Seokmin makes a face and waves him off. “Don’t worry about it.”
“But—”
“You made a mistake. A stupid one, yeah, and I’m probably never going to let you live it down, but,” he smiles gently, “we’re okay now. Just focus on what you’ll do about… you know.”
“…What?”
“You know,” Seokmin parrots. “Y/N. I mean, you still love them, don’t you?”
Without hesitation, Mingyu responds, “Well, no fucking shit.”
Seokmin makes a noise of satisfaction before turning on his heel. Over his shoulder, he singsongs, “Don’t fuck anything up!”
Mingyu scoffs. “I won’t!”
With each passing minute, the night gets livelier, and Mingyu ends up re-entering the living room and talking to other people despite his internal insistence not to. It keeps him busy, momentarily distracting him from the way his heartrate spikes at the thought of speaking to you tonight.
In the middle of his conversation with a former basketball teammate, a microphone ends up in his hands, and before he can blink, he’s pushed in front of the TV. It takes him a moment too long before he realizes that he’s been forced to sing a duet with you.
(Behind the couch, Minghao snorts at Seokmin’s devilish grin.
“I thought I told you to stay out of it.”
“I am!” Seokmin says, “I’m only giving them a slight push in the right direction!”)
The timer begins counting down.
Five.
“Just so you know,” you begin, “Seungkwan and Chan are going after us. We have to score as high as possible.”
Four.
“I don’t think we can manage that, to be honest.”
Three.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re great at singing, so you can make up for how bad I am.”
Two.
“I don’t—”
One.
“Believe in yourself, Mingyu.”
You bring the microphone up to your lips and begin to sing, and he can only follow your movements.
It takes an unfathomable amount of willpower to stop himself from staring at you for the song’s entirety. He clenches his fist as he recites the lyrics, but when it gets to the bridge and it’s your turn to take the reins, Mingyu lets his guard down, his hand falling limply to his side as you laugh through your part.
He has never been an expert in love — few of the decisions he’s made in the name of it have seldom ended well — and when he was younger, the only thing he ever knew regarding it was you. Before, he thought that wouldn’t have been enough, that in order to be the person you deserved, he had to know more.
However, he’s older now, and things change with time.
You glance at him and the butterfly in his stomach rapidly flaps its wings.
(Other things don’t).
He doesn’t even know the song’s ended until arms wrap around his neck. He stumbles backwards before he forces himself to find his footing so he can properly return your excited hug. Mingyu pays no mind to the score flashing onscreen, nor the claps coming from everyone else; all he can smell is your shampoo, he feels your breath on his skin, and that is much more important than a karaoke score ever will be.
Seungkwan says, “That’s not even a good score.”
You loosen your grip around Mingyu so you can look at Seungkwan, and he immediately yearns for more. “Be quiet, this is the best I’ve gotten all night,” you retort. You turn to face Mingyu again, shaking him by the shoulders. “We did good! I told you to believe in yourself!”
Before he can reply, you’re pulled apart by Chan, who’s itching to take his turn. He rips the mics from his and your hands, and you slip from Mingyu’s fingers once again when Vernon asks you if you can help him look for another can of beer.
He exhales in defeat, accepts Chan shooing him away with grace, and slips outside.
He leans over the porch railing, staring at the watercolour sky, a mixture of pink and orange and yellow.
Mingyu hangs his head, wondering just how many more times you’ll get whisked away before he even has a chance to utter a word. He prefers smaller gatherings, because at least then he’d be able to talk to you with ease.
He’s not quite sure how many more times he’ll be able to stand by and watch you go before he loses his mind.
Behind him, the door slides open, and he assumes it’s Seokmin telling him to get a move on. But the footsteps sound different than his friend’s, and he immediately perks up when a familiar scent reaches his nose.
“Hey.”
Your frame enters his periphery, your university jacket hanging on your shoulders with the sleeves covering your hands.
Mingyu straightens. “Hi.”
You settle beside him, shoulder to shoulder, and Mingyu immediately relaxes. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he says, “what makes you think I’m not?”
“You’ve been hiding from everyone since the night began,” you answer. “You don’t wanna be here, huh?”
“Of course I want to be here.” You raise an eyebrow at his lie. “Okay, fine, I don’t really want to be here.”
“Then why’d you come?”
“…I thought it would’ve been fun.”
“Really?” you snort. “Do you even know what this party is for?”
“Well… no.”
He expects you to roll your eyes, but instead you sigh in relief. “Okay, that makes me feel better, because I don’t either.”
“Well, I only came because Minghao told me you’d be coming,” he confesses.
You tilt your head in confusion. “I only came because Seokmin told me you’d be coming.”
He furrows his eyebrows and spares a glance through the glass doors at his friends. “…Huh.”
You huff, following his gaze. “I swear they always have their nose in our business.”
Mingyu looks back at you. “You have to admit, though, they’re pretty good at luring us into parties we don’t want to attend,” he smirks good-naturedly. “Who knew you still had a soft spot for me?”
Turning away from him, flustered, you grumble, “Shut up, don’t act like you didn’t come here because you wanted to see me.”
“I’m not!” he proclaims. “In fact, I’m pretty sure I make it pretty obvious that I like seeing you.”
“You’re so cheesy.”
“Only for you.”
You lightly punch his arm when the laughs that escape his lips grow louder. “I thought I told you that you can’t just say stuff like that.”
“Why not?” he hums. “I mean what I say, Y/N.”
“I’m not saying you don’t, it’s just…” you place your arms on the railing, leaning forward to avoid eye contact, “It’s confusing, that’s all.”
Mingyu faces you while you face away, watches how you stare at the setting sun instead of him, and his heart clenches. When you went your separate ways, he craved to be near you again, but even next to him, you still feel so far away.
(In hindsight, maybe he should’ve planned out how to go about this beforehand).
“You used to say stuff like that all the time,” you explain. “You know, before, uh—”
“Yeah,” he murmurs.
A million scenarios flash through his mind; different results depending on what he says next. He’s typically so good at saying the right thing — his words got him out of trouble and charmed his neighbours — but he’s found that his voice fails him whenever he needs it the most. When he tried to muster the courage to tell you about everything, he was never able to, and he gave into the false reassurances his mind offered that all would be alright in the end.
But none of that matters, you had said. We’re here now.
“You know what I never understood?” you ask.
“What?”
“You don’t like it here. Not a lot, anyway,” you start, “so why did you keep coming back?”
“Well, my family’s here, you know. So are our friends,” he gulps. “And I thought you would be, too.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” He nudges your elbow. “Can I ask you something?”
You chance a glance at him. “Sure, yeah.”
“What you said the other day,” he murmurs, unblinking, “about how I would’ve been it for you, has that changed?”
“Why are you asking?”
He bites the inside of his cheek as his cheeks begin to redden. “Do you really need me to say it?”
You frown. “Say what—?”
“I love you,” he blurts out. “And I know that might be kind of weird, since a lot’s changed since we last saw each other, but that’s the one thing I haven’t been able to shake. Not that— not that I ever wanted to— I just… I think it’s a part of me. Like I was born with it.”
You look at him, eyes glassy, unable to speak.
“But y’know what’s weirder?” he adds. “I’m pretty sure I’ll never get sick of it.”
It’s his turn to face away, turning towards the sun as you stare at the side of his face. The silence drenches the backyard like sudden, thunderous rainfall. For him, it’s unwelcome, and his eardrums echo with his confession.
He tries his best to hide his lovesickness, but the intensity of his longing prevents him from doing so. For the entire summer — perhaps for years, really — he’s been pushing it all down. He’s tired of it all. Of hiding, of pretending, of brushing off his esurient desire for you.
“It’s not weird,” you say, finally, saving him from his misery.
“Sorry?”
“You said it’s weird that you still love me,” you muse. “But I don’t think it is. It wouldn’t be fair of me to.”
His lips part. “What do you—?”
“Of course you’re it for me, Mingyu,” you tell him frustratedly. “You have been since the beginning of time. I don’t want you to go a day without believing it. I know what it’s like to live with you and to live without you, and I really prefer the first option.”
Mingyu’s pretty sure his brain short-circuits.
With quick movements, he inches closer to you, eyes flickering down to your lips before he asks, “Really?”
“What do you mean, really? Why would I—?”
“Can I kiss you?” he interrupts, slowly moving his hands closer to your face. “Please?”
He’s sure the longing in your eyes is wild enough to rival his.
(What an odd turn of events, is it not? Despite being on opposite sides of the country, you used to believe there weren’t enough miles between you and Mingyu for you to heal properly. But now, with his lips hovering over yours, you’re beginning to think that he is not close enough).
You take his face into your hands, and you kiss him.
Mingyu stumbles, surprised by your fervor, but matches it with ease. His hands move from your face to your waist, pulling you flush against him as he moves to have his back against the railing. Your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck, and he surprises himself with a moan at just how much he’s missed it — your hands pulling at his locks, his lips against yours.
He used to pray for this.
When you pull away to catch your breath, he chases you, too dazed to acknowledge your amused mien. You go to peck his lips to soothe him, but he makes sure to hold you against him, his hunger far from satiated.
He stops himself for a moment, breath hot on your skin. “Do you wanna get out of here?”
You smile against his mouth. “I think that’s the best idea you’ve had all night.”
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“I feel like you’ve been faking it.”
“I have not.”
“You definitely have. Skateboarding isn’t that hard.”
Mingyu throws his arm around you in defence. “Hey, give them a break, Minghao.”
“Yeah!” Seokmin pipes up, “Y/N was just terrible at it because they can’t balance at all.”
“You know,” you grunt, crossing your arms, “I thought you guys would be proud of me for finally managing to skate across the park without actually falling.”
“I’m proud of you,” Mingyu says, pecking the side of your head. “And I think that’s all that matters.”
“Thank you, I can always count on you having my back,” you say, leaning further into him and pointedly glaring at the other two boys in front of you.
Seokmin waves you off. “Hey, I think this might be the first time ever you didn’t get injured at the skatepark.”
You go to protest before frowning. “…I think you’re right, actually. That’s so weird.”
Minghao snorts. “Maybe we should teach you some tricks then.”
You glance at Mingyu, and he seems to really be considering it. “Oh, absolutely not. Are you trying to kill me?”
“I’ll teach you the easy ones!” Mingyu begins, standing in front of you so he’s all you see. He places his hands on your shoulders and squeezes them in reassurance. “You’re already a pro at just skating around, so this should be a piece of cake!”
“Mingyu,” you whine.
“Please,” he matches your tone. “I like teaching you stuff! It’ll be fun!” he lets go of your shoulders and rolls the board so it’s by your feet and offers you his hand as if you’ll need help getting on. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
Your wariness is squashed the moment he flashes you a soothing smile.
You sigh. “You promise?”
He crosses his heart. “With everything that I have.”
Without a second thought, you place your hand in his.
He squeezes it immediately in a silent vow:
I’ll be here to catch you if you fall.
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© dkfile, 2023. do not translate or copy my works.
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wonustars · 8 months
Text
𝘚𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘈𝘸𝘢𝘺
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I recommend listening to Still by Jeff Bernat while reading the first part!
Summary: It’s been a year since you and your ex-boyfriend, Wonwoo, had broken up. You have been having a hard time getting over him, no thanks to the fact you share mutual friends. Friends who liked to constantly update you on how he’s doing. After having no contact for the past 12 months, you two end up at the same party.
Tags: angst, fluff, hurt and comfort, smut (mdni) j.ww x reader, nonidol! au, nonidol!wonwoo, exbf!wonwoo, jealous!wonwoo, mentions of most svt members (S.Coups, Jeonghan, Hoshi, Minghao, Mingyu Seungkwan.), exes to lovers, y/n has way too much pride, pining over eachother during the whole party omf, they both assume too much, a little mingyu x reader if you squint, low tolerance hoshi as always, mingyu is bullied but thats normal atp.
Smut Tags/Warnings: smut mdni! dom!wonwoo, sub!reader, afab!reader, bathroom sex, p in v sex, semi-public sex, fingering, literally one spank (f. receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, tiniest bit of degradation, praise, lots of petnames (baby, princess, love,). if i've missed anything lmk! :}
Word count: 4556 words.
Note: HELLO OOMFG, my first ever seventeen fic has now graced this website. literally no one asked for this… i just love wonwoo. I can't believe i even finished this with how hectic school is wtf. any ways this is my first Wonwoo fic and i'm very excited and NERVOUS to share it with you all...... anyways i hope u like it haha. lmk what you guys think of it PLEASE i want feedback, i crave feedback. love u all enjoy hfiasuheiuhafsi.
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SMUT UNDERNEATH THIS CUT. MDNI! 18+.
After a year of not seeing one another, the pang in your heart never subsided. The thought of even breathing the same air as him was already causing you to feel the uneasiness boiling in your stomach. You heard from everyone how well he’s doing without you, you didn’t want to have to see it with your own eyes too. 
Unassumingly, you walked into Soonyoung’s apartment expecting to be greeted by the host himself. Instead, you donned upon a familiar set of eyes. Soft brown eyes, the same ones that you looked into every morning for three years. 
You tried your best to act ok, but the familiar ache in your chest was creeping in once again. The same ache that hasn’t left for the past 12 months. The same ache that hasn’t left since you watched him walk out your front door. 
The two of you are still standing there. Awkwardness started to settle in. You clear your throat and attempt to give your best poker face. 
“Hi, uhm is Soonyoung in there?” You Inquire. Cursing yourself mentally due to the audible shake in your voice. 
“Hey Y/n long time no see, and yeah he’s already become good friends with his toilet. You know how he gets with alcohol.” He chuckled. 
Now you’re mentally cursing him. He looks so composed compared to you. He’s even joking around with you. You have half the mind to back out and just drive home. But you can't. You can't because it’ll make you look like he still has an effect on you. Even though you’re not over him you still have some pride left in you. 
“Oh haha that doesn’t sound too good. Anyways, it’s nice seeing you again but I’m gonna go and greet everyone now.” You declare, eyes not even meeting him. If they did you wouldn’t be able to stay calm any longer. 
His hair got longer, you thought to yourself. He looked so good even after all this time. The thick rimmed glasses he wore complimented his features well. Alongside the creme knit sweater, the sleeves sitting above his elbows. It gives you a good view of his strong forearms. The same ones that held you while you fell asleep every night. 
“It’s nice seeing you too Y/n.” His voice is almost a whisper. Eyes scanning your face for any type of reaction. 
To Wonwoo’s dismay you only nod your head half-heartedly and trudge past him. He can feel his heart skip a beat, with both joy and sadness. Being able to see you is so bittersweet, and you still look as good as you did when he last saw you a year ago. 
He watches you make your way through the room. Your eyes particularly light up as you spot Mingyu. Curious eyes peer over to your frame and see how Mingyu engulfs you into a tight hug. Wonwoo's fists ball up tightly and he shuts the door with more force than normal. 
If things were different, it would be him that has his arms around you. Not his best friend.
You laugh at Mingyu's joke, but you’re still conscious of the pair of eyes that are burning into your back. You didn’t have to turn around to know who was staring at you. A part of you is happy, why is Wonwoo keeping his eyes on you? The other part of you is anxious. Why is Wonwoo keeping his eyes on you? 
“We’ve really missed you around here y/n.” Mingyu's soft voice brings you back to reality. 
“I’ve missed you guys too, Gyu.” You professed. Your hand moves to give his bicep a reassuring pat. To the two of you it’s nothing but a friendly gesture. To Wonwoo, it appears to be more than that. 
His jealousy is brewing in the pit of his stomach. 
You, on the other hand, are very aware of the way Wonwoo is eyeing you and Mingyu. If you didn’t know any better, you would assume that Wonwoo is jealous of Mingyu. As much as you want that to be the actual reason, you suppress your inner thoughts. Instead, you let Mingyu continue to talk your ear off about why he thinks Lane's character deserved a better ending in Gilmore Girls. 
Hours passed and the party has dyed down considerably. The only
people left at Sooyoung's apartment are now sitting around chatting in the living room. Everyone but Soonyoung (who Jeonghan and Minghao eventually put to rest in his room) have been engaging in the group’s conversation. 
“Haha, Hey Mingyu! Remember that time you tried to do a flip in the pool just to impress Y/n?” Jeonghan decided to make up a game called Mingyu's embarrassing moments. Group bonding he likes to call it. You can't help but laugh at the way the boys like to tease Mingyu. 
Though you found it surprising that Mingyu's failed flip was because he was trying to gain your attention. 
“I’m sick of you guys bringing that up! My back hurt for a whole week..” Mingyu huffs, he looks at you with a pout. Allyou can do is giggle. 
“It’s ok Gyu, you can show me your flip the next time we go to the pool!” You try not to burst into laughter as you reassuringly pat his shoulder. In the middle of all of this you felt a pair of eyes on you the whole time. Without even turning to look you knew who it was.
Excusing yourself to go to the washroom, you let the group continue to share their favourite moments of Mingyu embarrassing himself.
While you stood there, eyes closed, a sigh left your lips. All your energy had been drained from the party. Especially because 90% of your brain power had been used on looking at Wonwoo without making it obvious. You couldn’t help but steal glances, especially because he looked so good sitting there laughing with the guys. 
The tap was still running when you heard the door open and shut firmly behind you. You look up at the mirror to see a pair of cat-like eyes staring back at you. The squeeze in your chest intensifies. Out of all the people who could be in this small space with you right now, it’s him. 
“Are you and Mingyu a thing?” He cuts to the chase. Wonwoo was never the type to beat around the bush. Whenever he was curious about something he would ask. He finds it exhausting to play coy. It doesn’t make sense to him. 
You cough due to the awkward atmosphere. “W-what? Of course not! Me and Mingyu are just friends. He’s your best friend Wonwoo. I would never do that to you.” 
“I’m sorry I just don’t like the way you two seem so close.” He deflates. His eyes are still piercing into your soul. 
“Why? He’s both our friend Won.” You retort. His nickname leaves your lips so easily. The blush spreads across your cheeks in a matter of seconds. It’s been awhile since you’ve been this close to him. Since you’ve last called him by his nickname. 
“It’s the way he’s always trying to get your attention. I think he likes you Y/n.” Wonwoo sighs, he hates that you're so oblivious to Mingyu’s advances. Everyone but you seems to see the double meaning to his actions. 
“Even if Mingyu does like me, I would kindly reject him.” You assure him. You’re not sure why though, you two aren’t even together anymore. Following that thought, your heart aches once again. 
We’re not together anymore, you repeat in your head. 
You turn around to face him. With your backside pressed up against the bathroom counter, your breath gets caught in your throat. 
“My love, why did we even break up?” Wonwoo questioned you with a sad expression. You frowned. You recall the last few weeks before you broke up with him. 
He was so respectful of your decision it almost seemed like he wanted it to happen too. 
“Because I could tell that the last thing you needed was a relationship. Work was hectic for you, I was barely around because of my last year at school. It just felt like we were always at two different places. I loved you but I don’t think it would’ve been long before we called it quits. I just decided-.” He cuts you off. 
“Yes. You decided without me. We could’ve made it work. But you decided to break it off when it could’ve been fixed easily. I didn’t put up a fight when it happened because you seemed so sure that you didn’t love me anymore.” The tears in your eyes were threatening to spill. His face is so close to yours. The proximity of both your bodies. It was so much of him after not having him at all for so long. 
“I’m sorry, I just thought about what’s best for you.” You countered. A pout settling on your face. His arms are placed on the counter, gripping the marble on each side of you, locking you in. 
“There you go again, making decisions for the both of us.” His voice barely above a whisper. 
Wonwoo's eyes are still trained on yours, and you can’t seem to look away. The sparkle isn’t there anymore. It hasn’t been there since the day you left him. 
“Baby tell me you don’t love me anymore. Tell me that so I can move on. Because everyday that I’m not waking up beside you is another day my heart breaks a little more. I can’t even breathe properly without you. So please, just tell me you don’t love me.” The crack in his voice causes a tear in your heart. He’s begging you, the desperation in his words are clear. 
You look down. Wonwoo's knuckles are turning white because of how hard he’s gripping the countertop. The both of you are breathing heavily, and you fear that he can hear how hard your heart is pounding. 
“I’m sorry Won, but I can’t do that.” You murmured. “As much as I want you to be happy, I can’t tell you that I don’t love you. I don’t think I can ever stop.” 
“If you love me then come back to me. Please Y/n whatever it was that caused us to break up, we can fix it.” Pleading you, he grabs your face with his large hands. The motion makes you look back up into his eyes. He’s crying. 
The tears in his eyes slip gracefully down his face. Even in this sad moment he still looked so beautiful. A blush prominent on his cheeks and the tip of his nose. His long lashes wet with tears. Sorrow somehow makes him look so pretty in the dull lighting of the bathroom. 
Your heart thumps rapidly in your chest and your tongue dry. What are you even meant to say? Is it worth it to come back to a relationship you thought you couldn’t salvage? As much as you love Wonwoo, you two had so much ahead of you. His career was clearly taking off before you broke up with him and you just didn’t want to hold him back. You needed love, you needed attention but he just became too busy, rightfully so. You would never blame him for prioritizing his work, even if it meant straining your relationship. 
On the other hand you were in the final stages of completing your thesis. The two of you were always missing each other. He was always coming home in the later hours of the night while you were still asleep, and by the time it was morning the bed was neatly made beside him. 
“Won, I love you, I do. But I can tell you’re better off without me. From what Cheol and the boys are saying, you’re happy. I even heard you're dating again.” you chuckle bitterly, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from crying. 
“No Y/n, I’m fucking miserable without you. I don’t care what the boys are saying. I only went on a date because Soonyoung said it would be good to try again, but I can’t do it. I can’t because it's not you. And I can’t stand the thought of you ending up with someone else. I want to be your last. I miss waking up to you every morning, and I miss the way the house smelt when you were still around. I even miss the way you would snore in your sleep. I need you in my life, but if you don’t feel the same way anymore then I won’t bother you anymore. You won’t have to worry about me.” Wonwoo’s voice cracks, the desperation clear in his voice. 
His hands are still caging you in, the proximity becoming overwhelming. Your faces are inches apart, and all you can smell is his peach scented cologne. His scent only ever reminded you of home. God why was he so good with his words, you thought. The tears in your eyes start to fall. Fuck. This is not how you thought this night was going to go. 
“I love you Wonwoo.” is all you can say in response. It comes out as a whisper as the gap between you two starts to fade. 
Your lips move against his with fluidity. He feels the same way he did a year ago, you thought. The sound of the running tap and the sounds of kissing fill the small bathroom. Wonwoo’s hands move from the countertop to your waist, gripping you tight. As if you were about to disappear into thin air if he let you go. 
All you could think about at that moment was that he felt so good on top of you. Your bodies pressed up against each other once again. You haven’t been with anyone since the two of you broke up, you just couldn’t do it. No one could get you as turned on as Wonwoo does. It doesn’t feel right unless it's him, it doesn’t feel right to have anyone inside you except him. 
Wonwoo still has his iron grip on you, but now his hands are creeping under your shirt to feel your bare waist. You don’t stop him, if anything you want him to keep going. Fuck everyone who can hear you outside. Right now, at this moment, it's just you and him. 
Both of your breathing becomes laboured as you deepen the kiss, opening your mouth to let his tongue explore the inside of your mouth. His mouth finally leaves yours; looking at you again with those piercing eyes. Staring back with the same intensity you just smile and place a hand on his cheek. He breaks the contact only to dive into your neck, kissing and licking every square inch he has access to. You can only whimper as you feel him marking you up. Even though it's a bad idea for him to leave hickies, he can’t help it. Wonwoo wants to show you how badly he’s missed you. 
You two are close enough in distance that you can feel his hard on pressing against your thigh. He’s rubbing himself against you as he licks up your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin. 
“Hmm feels good baby,” you whisper, as you move your head to give him more surface area. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, your hand gripping his bicep to keep you grounded throughout all the pleasure. It’s been so long since you’ve been touched like this, you can’t help but feel sensitive to every miniscule touch that you’re receiving. 
“I need you so bad Won,” you whimper to him. His hold on you tightens at your words. All of this feels like a dream that you don’t want to wake up from. Wonwoo’s lips feathering soft kisses against your skin as he holds you; it just feels too good to be true. 
“Shh I know baby, I’ll give you what you want, just let me savour you for a bit.” He whispers back in your ear, one hand slowly moving towards your chest. His hand was fully under your shirt by this point. You force him to reconnect his lips with yours again, kissing him harder. You pull away again just to take off your shirt, your bra following without a second to spare. Not wasting any time your pants come off next, leaving you fully naked against the sink. 
Before you can take off any of Wonwoo’s clothes he stops you, his eyes dark with want. Moving you to sit on top of the counter, he spreads your legs. You sit there with anticipation as he massages your thighs, admiring your glistening pussy. He hasn’t done much but he still looked so attractive under the fluorescent light. Your walls lining with slick the more you looked at him. Fingers creeping close to where you need him most, he plays with your wetness. You sigh, the relief washing over you as he rubs slow, lazy circles on your clit. 
“Need more, please baby.” you whine, grabbing his wrist to bring him closer to your entrance. He pulls back with a tsk. 
“No love, let me play with you for a bit.” He’s not asking, and you know how he gets when you two are like this. You’ve always been a brat with him, and he was never one to give in. Always playing the long game, edging you until you beg him to let you cum. Today was not the day to play games with you though. 
“No. Wanna feel you inside me now.” you demand, leading his hands towards your soaking cunt. 
He can only sigh, giving into you for the first time. 
“This is the only time I’m letting you get what you want. Next time you better be begging for me.” He looked serious, and you know not to play brat any more than you have now. 
Without warning he shoves two fingers inside of you. Letting out a moan, you throw your head back. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as you spread your legs further. Wonwoo curls his fingers as he pumps them in and out of you, feeling how wet you are for him. He can’t help but grin to himself. He knows he’s the only one who can get you this needy, and he's enjoying every single second of it. 
Your moans get louder and he slaps his other hand over your mouth. 
“If you wanna be a good little whore for me, you better keep quiet. Can’t have the others hearing you now, isn’t that right baby?” he spits. You can only nod, your brows furrowing with pleasure. 
“You're so wet already, this is just for me isn't it?” he hums, picking up the speed as he finger fucks you. You moan against his hand, not being able to give a proper response due to all the pleasure. You forgot how good his fingers feel compared to your own. They fill you up so well, not even your vibrator can make you feel this good. 
He continues with his ministrations, the sounds of your wet folds squelching echoes inside the bathroom. Your mind wanders to whether or not the guys can hear you, but they quickly dissipate as his thumb finds your clit once again. Rubbing it in perfect rhythm with his fingers. The familiar feeling of your orgasm approaching creeps up on you. 
“G-gonna cum Won.” you breathe out. His hand leaves your mouth, replacing it with his lips. The speed of his fingers increases, the other hand fondling your tits to get you closer to the edge. You moan into the kiss as relief washes over you, your cunt dripping with cum. It covers his hands and your inner thighs. Before you could say anything, Wonwoo shoves his fingers in your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself. 
“Good job baby, you’re doing so well for me aren’t you?” He chuckles as you obediently lick up your cum from his fingers. The praise and your recent orgasm makes your head dizzy. 
Opening your mouth you remove his fingers. You pout and pull him closer to you, and he goes back to placing his hands at each of your sides on the counter, leaning in to give you a peck on your lips. 
“Want your cock, please baby.” you whine, grabbing the ends of his sweater to attempt to lift it off of him. He can only laugh at how needy you are for him. “Wanna feel you cum inside me please.” 
“Only because you asked so nicely.” 
He removes his clothes quickly, both your bodies buzzing with anticipation. His pants pooling at his ankles, and his member stands hard and leaking with pre cum. Your mouth can’t help but water. As much as you want to suck him off right now, you don’t. Mentally leaving a note to yourself to ask him about it next time. Next time, you thought. It still sounded funny considering you haven’t been with him like this in a long time. 
Parting your legs apart further, Wonwoo moves in between them, his hands guiding his dick towards your entrance. Teasingly he rubs himself against your cunt, collecting your juices for an easier entrance. You look down between the two of you and your pussy clenches at how big he is.
“Stop teasing please, I want you inside me now.” you beg, pushing your hips to meet his. He just chuckles, shaking his head before he forces his cock past your folds. 
Gasping at the sudden intrusion, he doesn’t give you time to adjust; grabbing your thighs to hook them between his arms, spreading you further. It gives him a new angle to fuck into you deeper, his thrusts fast and hard just how you’ve always liked it. The pleasure becomes more overwhelming with every move he makes. The feeling of his hard member rubbing against your gummy walls sends you into overdrive. He continues to hit that spot in you that you know no one else can reach. The vigour in every movement causes slapping sounds to fill the room alongside the wet sounds of his cock entering in and out of you. If anything it just turns you one even more. 
“Feels so good baby, keep going.” You moan as he places his mouth around your nipple sucking on it as he continues to fuck you. He moves your legs once again to place them around his hips, allowing his free hand to rub your clit once more. The feeling of it all is hitting you hard, especially with how sensitive you are from the previous orgasm. 
“So fucking tight for me princess.” Wonwoo grunts, his words causing you to clench around him even harder. He’s groaning above you, trying hard to not cum for as long as possible. You’re already drunk off his cock but he wants to savour every moment of this. The uncertainty of it all is keeping him from cumming too quickly. 
The moans coming from your mouth only get louder the more he plays with your clit, and before you know it you’re coming undone for the second time tonight. But Wonwoo perseveres, his thrusts never falter. Not until you feel his member twitch inside you. 
“Cum inside me Won, wanna be filled up please.” you’re blubbering at this point, overstimulated and overwhelmed. You just want to feel his cum spurt into your hole. He groans at how the filthy words spewing from your lips, causing him to release inside you. You whimper against his shoulder, feeling the hot white liquid spilling into your pussy. As you clench around him once more you bring his face to yours, giving a deep and meaningful kiss. 
“Come home with me. I’m not done with you.” He demands. His dick still inside of you, he refuses to pull out, finding comfort in your warmth. 
“I’ll do whatever you want Jeon Wonwoo, as long as I get to ride you later.” you laugh, removing yourself from his grip. He smiles, the pink tinge apparent on his cheeks. 
You hop off the counter to put on your clothes, and as you bend down to grab your things you feel a sharp slap hit your ass. Yelping, you turn to give him a dirty look. He can only smile mischievously, the sight of his cum leaking from your pussy lips onto your thighs is turning him on again. As he gets dressed his head fills with intrusive thoughts, ultimately, he decides to save it for later. 
The two of you end up leaving the bathroom just to see everyone still drinking and talking in a circle. All the attention turns towards the two of you. Out of all the people you can’t help but notice the way Mingyu isn’t his usual cheerful self, the difference earlier on in the party is a stark contrast from his current mood. Your thoughts are cut off by Seungkwan’s voice. 
“Finally! My god, we didn’t know when you two were gonna make up, its been to fucking long.” he exasperates, both you and Wonwoo giggle bashfully. 
“For real, the tension between the both of you was too thick. All you needed was a good fuck.” Jeonghan chimes in, giving you two a suggestive wink. 
You feel the heat rise creep up your neck to cheeks. In the heat of the moment the bathroom fuck was good, but you know the boys aren’t going to let you two live it down. They never do, Mingyu being a prime example. 
“Ok ok, I hope you all got your jokes in. Me and Y/n are going home.” Wonwoo announces, leading you to the doorway with his hand on the small of your back. 
“Good night guys!” You bid them farewell and you make your way out of Soonyoung’s apartment. They all say their goodnights to you two, along with some cheers at the news that you and Wonwoo are back to normal.
The two of you walk towards Wonwoo’s car, his hand entangled with yours; holding you tight to ensure you don’t leave him again. The fall breeze sends chills down your spine, the leaves dancing in circles along the pavement. Wonwoo pulls you in closer, trying to preserve your warmth. You can’t help but smile at the fact that he just knew, even when you didn’t say anything. 
As you reach the destination of his car, he opens the door for you. Letting you get comfortable before climbing in himself and turning it on to start. The radio immediately connects to his phone, the song humming quietly in the background. Wonwoo’s hand finds yours again, looking at you with warm eyes. He places a quick peck on your lips before pulling away. There’s only one destination for him in mind. 
“Home?” he asks. 
“Home.” you respond.
© wonustars
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a/n: there you have it kind reader! you've reached the end. i hope you enjoyed it as much as i enjoyed writing it :D leave a like, comment or even a reblog!!! i wanna hear your thoughts. mwah mwah, anna <3.
plz note: 𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠 𝙞’𝙫𝙚 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙨 𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙬𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 !
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tokkiwrites · 4 months
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┈─ 𖧷 Dirty Diana 🍷⏜ ◌
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ㅡㅡㅡ in which you want to surprise your dad with his favorite band tickets. you're really lucky when you stumble upon the lead guitarist, Joel Miller, at your local grocery store. things escalate- but you do get those tickets.
★ ͘rockstar!joel miller, fem!reader, dom joel, sub reader, afab reader, p in v sex unprotected, rough joel, age gap, dumbification of reader, hair pulling, slapping, head m and f receiving, creampie, kind of size kink if u tilt your head, joel has tattoos and a piercings (yummy), sir kink, almost pet play, lots of pet names. drinking, mentions of cheating. lmk if i missed any!!!! (pic in the banner doesn't describe readers body!! there for the aesthetics) not proofread
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you've never been a rock fan. sure, you'd enjoy listening to the songs your dad played on your 3 hour long car rides, the ones he always sets as his ring-tone...
but you were in a dilemma nowㅡ there's a giveaway of sorts with tickets to your dad's most favorite band from the early 90's, and to even have a chance at those tickets you need to submit a video of yourself singing one of their songs.
now you would ask your dad, but the first thing that made you this set on getting those tickets was surprising him with them on his upcoming birthday. you'd buy them, but they're either sold out or 200 bucks on shady sitesㅡ and you're a broke college student on winter break.
you sigh, closing your laptop and throwing it on the other side of the bed. you stare up at the ceiling, counting the little neon stars you've had there since you were 10. they always calmed youㅡ made your brain less foggy, even for just a few seconds.
groaning, you throw your legs around, frustrated and disappointed in yourself. this would've really made his worries slip away, for a bit, after what happened with your mom. you still can't wrap your head around why your mom chose her exceeding in nothing, 2 palms of receding hairline co-worker. i mean, he was richㅡ super fucking rich, but was it worth it? your dad didn't deserve it.
you wipe the tears you've just now realized were dripping down your face. "i need something to drink." sniffling, you put on your plush jacket, get some slippers , and spray on some perfume. "at least need to smell presentable if i look likeㅡ" you stare into the mirror, laughing to yourself, "that."
you stroll out of your house and down the street. you were lucky for the grocery store just about 7 minutes away, give or take. it wasn't that small but it wasn't big either, at least not big enough so that you learned form a young age where all of your favorite iles were.
"Hi, Miss Sammy!" you greet the cashier, an old friend of the family and sort of an aunt to youㅡ you remember when she'd let you stay after school in the back of the store up until 5 pm, when your dad came to pick you up. "Hi, honey! How's winter break treating you?"
"Rough day?" you jump, taking one step back before you turn around to see who it was.
"'s fine... I'm glad to be back home with dad." you smile and her gaze softened. "Well if you ever need anythin', you let me know sugar, mkay?" you nod, walking to the furthest part of the store, where all of the drinks were. you look around, trying to find the cheapest thing that can get you dizzy the fastest. really deep in your mind you failed to notice someone coming up to your side, breaking the silence.
"Yeah, you could say thaㅡ wait." you pause. holy shit. you couldn't believe your eyes. "I know you! You're thㅡ" he presses his fingers agains your lips, and oh, it sends a shiver down your back. "quiet down, darlin'."
you nod, whispers-yelling, "You're Joel Miller, right?" he sighs, smiling at your question, and your eyes light up. this is perfect, so, so perfect. "My dad loves you guysㅡ you and your band."
"that so?" your arms flare up, smiling so big. "you've no idea! 's why i was so excited to hear about you coming to town. Wanted to surprise him."
"wanted?" Joel quirks his eyebrows up, his voice dropping an octave. "Yeah, well, i found out pretty late about it and - well, tickets, they're super expensive now, as you'd imagine.." You sigh, turning back to look at the bottles catching the white light of the room. "jus' wanted to give him something to be happy about, you know?" You reach out to grab a 16$ bottle of wine you know is too sweet, but it'll do. trying to lift the mood, you try your hand at a joke. "guess my only option is to fuck somebody who has those tickets." you look at him and his brows are furrowed. stupid, stupid, stupid joke, stupid you.
"so-rry, didn't mean toㅡ"
"that so, pretty girl?" Those words go straight to your core, causing you to nip at your bottom lip, stiff like a stone. "Now, you can't just say somethin' like thatㅡ" Joel leans in closer "'n not answer me."
you look up at him, and you finally get a better look. there aren't many pictures of him close up on the internet, mostly grainy ones where you can barely make out his tattoos. you gulp, eyes traveling across his face: a brow piercing, a full beard with patches of gray, a neck tattoo with a ravenㅡ he looked surreal.
"y'gonna answer me, angel-face? or do i need to pull out those words myself?" god, you were practically dripping on the linoleum of the store, cheeks ablaze and words tangled in your throat.
"I'm ㅡ" he traces his inked fingers across the exposed part of your neck, chuckling at your demeanor. "I live 5 minutes away." you blurt out, causing his eyes to widen. "maybeㅡ come over?" god, what were you doing? you sure hope not to regret your words later. but right now, two things you knew for certain: you were way too turned on, and he was way too hot for his age.
Joel smirks, his fingers lingering on your skin. "Well, darlin', seems like fate's on your side today." He grabs the bottle of wine you were holding, examining it. "I ain't lettin' you drink that, girl." he scoffs, picking up a bottle of Giulio Ferrari from 1992, not even looking at the price. "Let me spoil you a bit, yeah." you can't even say a word, you pathetically whine, as your knees wobble like jelly.
Joel puts the hoodie over his head and looks down at you, his firey stare making your cheeks burn up all over again. "y'know the lady?" he asks, motioning his head towards Sammy who was busy playing Rummy on her phone. "I do, old familyㅡ well, like family." He nods, patting your shoulder, "you go ahead, wait f'me in front of the store by that coffee machine. I'mma pay real quick, yeah?" you nod so fast, way too excited with those butterflies tying knots in your stomach, you head to the door.
"Bye, Miss Sammy!" you wave, and she just hums and gives half of a wave back "buh-bye, sugar." too fixed on her phone. As Joel pays for the bottle of wine, he glances back at you exiting the store.
"Lead the way, darlin'. Let's see if we can work something out." and oh, the way those words make you drip in anticipation. the way you were so eager to have his hands all over your body- those tickets were the last thing on your mind right now. You both head towards your house, the cold air adding a sense of urgency to the situation. You couldn't believe how needy he made you with just a few words. Small talk fills the short journey, with Joel sharing stories from the road and you nervously responding.
Once inside your home, Joel looks around appreciatively. "Cozy place you got here." you nod, leading him to the kitchen. "your daddy home?"
"no.." you fumble your steps as you hurriedly put two glasses on the counter for Joel to fill up with wine. Joel smirks, sensing the tension in the air. "Just us, then," he says, pouring the wine into the glasses. The rich aroma of the aged wine fills the room as he hands you a glass. "Cheers to unexpected encounters," he toasts, clinking glasses with you. The wine is exquisite, but the real intoxication is the electrifying presence of Joel. Tattoos adorned his body, his fluffy hair laid perfectly, strands of gray standing out; the way his muscles bulged through his shirtㅡ you could see it all better now.
"feels like you're about to eat me, baby. way you're starin' me down." joel chuckles. "sorry I'mㅡ sorry." you nervously sip from you glass trying to put out the fire in your core, his voice making it ten times harder for you. "now, how you gonna get what you want if you get so shy on me, hm?"
joel steps closer to you, and your chest burns, heaving up and down as his arms snake around your waist and settle onto your tummy. "ain't you a big girl? thought you were- how you so eagerly invited a stranger ㅡsuch an old man into your home when your daddy ain't around." he rubs through you, a squeaky whimper slipping past your lips as you felt his bulge against you. "oh, she likes that, don't she?" you breathe out "god.."
"please..." you plead, palms now on top of his as you slowly turn your head to expose your neck further. "please what, babygirl?"
"not god, baby..jus' me." he chuckles murkily.
"please, sir..t-touch me." you back your body further, prompting joel to groan and tighten his grasp on you. "jesus, girl." he laughs "dirty little thing." his rough hands make their way under your lace trimmed long-sleeve, grasping at you breasts.
"no bra, baby?" he asks, swirling his thumbs across your sprung up nipples, and you moan a quiet 'no'. "what if your daddy walks through that door right now, huh?"
"dont care..." you lean more into his touch, intoxicated from it and his scent, a hint of smoky wood, and a touch of muskㅡ he smelled delicious. you couldn't wait to have him on your tongue.
"'course you don't. needy little whore wants an old man to fuck her senselessㅡ need me to fill ya up with this cock til you're dumb and can't think no more." you moan, so eagerly shaking your head as you press your ass onto his hard-on, getting joel to wrap his thick fingers around your throat and spin you around to face him. "not so fast, girl. wanna see ya beg, can you do that f'me angel?" his graps grow rougher, and you mewl out a string of yes, yes, yes, whilst dropping to your knees, as he instructs
"eyes up, babyㅡ there she is." joel strokes your face before delivering a harsh slap onto your already red cheek. moaning, you rub your thighs together as to evade just a bit of pressure in your cunt. "pretty little slut. so pretty like this." he growls, taking a handful of your hair "go on now. beg. tell sir how bad you need his cock."
and you do. you beg and plead, press your face against his thigh like a little puppy. you don't take you eyes off of his, prompting yourself with his boot under your clothed cunt. "please, sir.. v'been so good..." and you start moving slowly, cheek now flush against his crotch. you moan and rut against him, heat washing over your whole body. you wanted to make him proud, you dont know what came over youㅡ you were so drunken and you didn't know if it was because of the wine or because of joel.
the way he stared down at you, his pupils almost like an eclipse to his hazel eyes, lips half hidden behind his mustache. The way his piercing gaze holds yours, unwavering and commanding; he was rough and enticing, mean in just the right wayㅡ his voice dripped like honey and you couldn't hold but lick it up and let it poison you through and through.
"atta girl." you looked so vulnerable. so innocent. so raw and ready for him to taint and infect you with his all. he unbuckled his pants, leaving them a bit open at the top, perfectly for you to see the strain his thick cock put onto his briefs. "c'mon. don't make me wait, baby..." you didn't need to hear more, eagerly pulling out his erect length, letting it slap onto his clothed belly. you could drool at the sight, all though you're pretty sure you already were. he was bigㅡ huge even, the biggest you've ever seen. it was girthy and had veins running down it, tip red, dripping with precum. "too b-big-" you manage to let out. "you'll make it fit, puppy. for me, yeah? c'mon, let me fuck that pretty mouth." and you softly reply with 'yes, sir' before he yanks at your hair and directs his dick right between your lips. "open. widee openㅡ there you go." he encourages you as you try your best to fit that monster into your mouth. it hurts and your chin stings as joel slowly stars to thrust his length into you mouth- or at list what fits of it.
"pretty slut. look so good with her mouth full of cock." joel hums as you whine around him. "like this cock, baby?" he knows you can't answer, mouth too full and brain to fuzzy. "so cock stupid, can't even speak." he laughs. you've never felt like this, god, not even imagined something like this. yet there you were with someone who's twice your age fucking your mouth. "what would your daddy say?" you whine and squeeze around nothing, nails digging into the back of his knees. joel can only laugh as he puls out, rubbing his tip over your lips to collect the drool that mixed with his precum, and smear it all over your rosy cheeks.
you felt so dirty. but it felt rightㅡ for a good cause, right?
he slaps your face with his length before pulling you up by your hair, bending you over the kitchen counter. "gonna let me fuck you, babygirl?"
"yes-" you wriggle into his hold. "yes, what?" hes prying "yes, sir." you obediently reply. "good fuckin' pup." he doesn't even haltㅡ joel pulls down your pants at once with your panties. he delivers a harsh slap before trailing his digits right between your legs. "poor lil' cunt. look at 'er." he coos. "crying for this cock."
"please, sirㅡ mmhg.." whining, you try to rub yourself onto his fingers, but he quickly slaps you again, this time on the side of your thigh. "don't be a greedy bitch. you take what i give you, understand?"
"y-yes, sir, pleaseㅡ" he clicks his tongue before kneeling, spreading your pussy lips as he does, leaning in and blowing onto your sensitive clit. you jump and moan in frustration. "i know, baby, i know." he spreads your legs further, finally landing a soft and teasing lick between your folds. it doesn't take long for joel to go at it, sucking and licking at your cunt like theres no tomorrow, your desperate pleads to come only fueling him. "not yet, angel-baby." he gorans, picking himself up. "want you to come 'round my cock. want you to come while i stuff you up nice 'n good." you nod, not even half sure what you heard, you were too dizzy and the sudden lack of stimulation drove you mad.
joel positions himself behind you, lifting your leg up so one of your knees rests onto the counter. he teases your entrance with the tip of his cock, wanting to pull more from you, to get you even needful. you couldn't barely muster to hold yourself up, letting all of your weight on Joel, deprived pleads rolling of your tongue.
when he's content with the teasing, he starts to ease into you. it's like you're awakened from a trance, fully aware of everything, and every fiber of your body. it all vibrates as a sting spreads through your body, and you squeeze around Joel. "fuckkㅡ so fuckin' tight, baby- I'd think were a virgin if i didn't know what a cock slut you actually are." he laughs somberly before plunging straight into you. your tongue luls out, tears on the brink of your eyes as you cand only squeal out pathetic moans and incoherent blathers. "shitㅡ ! squeezing me so good, baby"
and he goes at you, diving deeper and deeper with each hit of his hips, one palm holding your leg up and one pressing you face flush on the cold surface of the counter. "like that? like it when an old man has his way with ya, huh?" you can't hear him, you barely make out his words; your eyes roll back and spine arched as he plummets into your cunt. "fucked you stupid, huh? dirty girl." joel snickers, feeling your walls squeeze around him as he takes one of your palms and places it right on top of your belly. "feel." and, fuck, you feel. his cock reaches so far into you it bulges through your pelvis; you feel it and you're jelly all over again.
he takes both his arms and hold you by your shoulders, hit after hit after hit sending you deeper into oblivionㅡ and you can only moan and cry as you feel your orgasm approaching. desperately, you clench around his cock, sending joel into a frenzy. "wanna come, pup? tell me." he's stern and rough with his request. "hhhaㅡ y-yes, plea-se..." you don't know if you're crying because you feel too good or because of how desperately you need to come.
"come then, make me proud, baby." you writhe as the knots in your core begin to untie, shaking under joel whilst it hits you like a wave of warmth and frost at once. it doesn't take long for him to reach his limit, digging his nails through your thighs, gritting his teeth as he leaves bruises onto you, you wish would never go away.
"need'a come babyㅡ shit! where, tell me where baby." you feel him so deep, you're drunk on him, vision blurry and mind fogged up. you usually don't say this. "in-side- inside, sir, please.." you beg, and you don't wait more than two more seconds as joel spills his warm seed into you, causing you to lick your lips as if you could taste it. Joel holds himself over you, panting as he trails soft kisses onto your back. "did so good, babygirl." you smile stupidly, rolling your hips against his.
"soㅡ" he makes a pause. "you still want those tickets?"
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⏜⃞♡⠀⠀🐰 hoohououiuoooio hi guys im kind of pretty obsessed with joel rn so i gotta quench my thirst. this has 3.1k words. hope u like it!! muahhhh thank u again for 150!!!! if u see any grammatical errors no u didn't.
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007reid · 5 months
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stalemate. spencer reid
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join the taglist | part 1
summary: spencer reid isn't very fond of you, and that you understand. you aren't fond of him either.
a/n: this was the first spencer thing i wrote and since i cant write a lot rn , i’ll push this out for u guys!! enjoy <33 lmk if you want a p2 🤍
the team didn't welcome you coldly, but they didn't hold their arms open for you to run in, either. you understand completely. they're a family, and have worked together efficiently without you for long enough to not need a second opinion from you. yet a help wanted slot was posted and you have been waiting for an excuse to transfer out of your shitty department anyway, so you didn't have anything to loose. however, now that you sit here listening to the entire team's hearty laughter bouncing off the walls, you regret ever coming to this 'celebration,' or whatever. you regret transferring out of your old department. it was shitty, but it wasn't as shitty as this.
you feel inferior, swirling the noodles in your plate absentmindedly as you think about whether or not your old boss would let you in if you come crawling back. because you would. in a heartbeat. the bau's giggles and inside jokes were foreign to you, and you didn't want to sulk in case of ruining their mood but you can't start smiling and pretending that you fit in either; that's even worse. you would excuse yourself, saying how it's late and everything, but it's fucking seven thirty. and considering how you're surrounded by the best profilers in the fucking nation, they will read the excuses by just a single glance at your face. you'd rather not risk it.
it's not like anyone's rude to you either. you look at jj, then prentiss, then to garcia. they're all leaning into each other, completely in their element. hotch is looking at them affectionately, and you rarely see the man smile but he's smiling now, at peace. then you glance at morgan, who has his arm thrown over reid, drunkenly singing and-
reid.
it's not like anyone's rude to you, except for dr. reid, who's always on his fucking guard and keeps to himself like he's all so superior and mysterious, a man with 3 ph.d's and smarter than everyone in the room and loves to remind everyone of it.
you don't realize you were staring until he catches your eye, and you immediately look away, indignant and scowling at yourself for being caught. you stab at a piece of red pepper with your fork and aggressively bite at it. fucking doctor spencer reid, you think bitterly. he looks so miserable and irritated all the time and you hope it stays that way.
***
flashback~
it's your first day at the bau and you're so excited you can't even keep your breakfast down. you've been waiting for a breakthrough your entire career, and today is the day. you heard about what it was like working in the bau from people who have watched them. they're a family.
as you button your blouse, you grow giddy at the thought of what today would turn out to be like. everyone will introduce yourself to you, and you'll take turn complimenting each other, and then you'll find an obscure interest with every single one of them to connect over. they're a caring family, and you can't wait to receive and give some of the care as you become apart of the team. you leave with your brown bag hanging over your shoulder and a pretty, modest outfit, with your hair done not too deliberately.
the people who told you the bau is like a family was right. as you introduce yourself to them, you can't help but like these people. there is something so effortlessly cool about them, making you drawn to them immediately. jj was at the front door first, waiting to walk you in, introducing herself and the moment she finished a short woman runs towards you, jewels on her ears neck and arms clinking together as she throws herself at you, and the hug feels like one from your favorite aunt. "it's been so long since we had someone new around here!" she squealed. "i'm penny garcia!"
a woman with black hair was lingering around nearby too, and she spoke cooly and slowly, the complete opposite of garcia, "i'm emily prentiss." a man behind a cubicle poked out, his eyes kind and cheerful. he winked and said his name was derek morgan.
"you already met gideon and hotch when they interviewed you, hotch's out right now, he'll be back by afternoon. gideon's getting his morning donuts. and there's reid too," says jj. "but...hey, where's reid?"
the entire team looked around. you didn't know who to look for, but you looked around anyway.
"he was just here a second ago," penny said. "maybe he went to make copies of something."
"you'll see him later," jj brushed it off, "he haunts the place. reid is about your age, comes here early and leaves late. i'm gonna show you to your new cubicle, 'kay?"
you had nodded. jj assigned you a packet to look over, and the hour passed by with you concentrating on the packet and exchanging brief small talk with everyone to get to know them. the absent reid never showed up. by the third hour, your fingers were twitching for a coffee. you set the packet down and walked over to penny's desk, since she was the nicest and least intimidating out of all the agents. "hey," you said, slightly shy. "is there a coffee machine...?"
"oh! yeah, i forgot," she jolted from her seat. the energy in that woman never cease to surprise you. "we should've given you a tour. the lunch room is right down the hall, honey."
"grab me a coffee too while you're there, yeah?" prentiss called out to you from her desk. "black. thanks, y/l/n."
you nodded. you didn't mind picking up another cup, and doing favors for someone does make them like you better and you really wanted to fit in with the team. there was no way in hell you're going back to your old desk job; it lacked the adventure you needed and the people there had no soul to them--you shuddered at just thinking about going back there.
you found the break room with no issue and immediately bee-lined for the coffee machine. you started on prentiss' first, grabbing the green starbucks black-coffee pod from the stand. a voice stopped you in your tracks.
"she takes nespresso."
shocked, you whipped around. at the small lunch table, with papers spread everywhere was a man with brown curly hair, pushed back and out of his eyes. he looked unimpressed. you recognized him immediately; he must be the famous doctor reid who was absent from his desk all day.
flustered, you take the pod back out and puts it back in the stand, taking out nespresso. you knew better than to doubt the guy; he probably heard prentiss' voice asking for coffee and he's been around for ages, he knows what coffee she drinks. "sorry," you muttered. "she didn't specify."
he blinked slowly, and if you had just focused on his eyes alone, you would've immediately been comforted; he had kind, doe eyes, patient and gentle. the scowl on his lips and the flare of his nostrils told you otherwise, though. he didn't like you, and he's not even bothering to hide the fact. while the coffee machine whirls, you stand there awkwardly, and reid scoffed an unamused snort looking at you before turning back to his papers. you turned your back to him and stare at the steam gathering on top of the pot.
what the fuck? you didn't expect to start beef with your coworker on your first day, and yet...you rack through your mind--what did you do? maybe you offended him once on the street and he remembered your face? but you have never seen him before, you're good with faces, and if you had seen a face as pretty as his, you'd remember.
at that thought, you mentally scowled yourself. he gets annoyed just from looking at you, dumbass, you chided yourself. the coffee machine beeps, and you poured out a cup, before starting on your own.
"are you the new agent?" reid spoke again, his voice flat and emotionless but you're no newbie to the game, you knew the hostility was there.
"i am," you said, turning around and found that he was already looking at you, trying to sound as confident as possible. you thought it worked, but when his eyes racked your face for tells, you hesitated. "i'm y/n y/l/n."
"i'm spencer reid," he said. you hide your grimace. i know. "sorry i didn't come out to greet you with everyone, i was kind of caught up," he said, gesturing to the messy pile of papers on the table, but his voice didn't sound apologetic at all. you could take a hint.
"no worries," you said lightly, "i understand."
he narrowed his eyes. you repeated what you said in your head. it was a perfectly normal thing to say. what was suspicious about it? he nodded once, and the coffee machine came to save the day as it beeped softly. you turned around, poured yourself a cup, then headed for the door as fast as you could manage.
"it's nice to meet you doctor reid," you said hurriedly as you're out the door, remembering your etiquette. you want everyone here to like you, remember?
"likewise." he said shortly. and that was that.
end flashback.
***
you've been working at the bau for five months now. you'd say you know everyone pretty well, and the team made room for you to slip into their lives generously. all of them except for--predictably--doctor spencer reid. he keeps his guard up dangerously high and whenever he does decide to acknowledge or address you, it's to prove you wrong or to tell you that you're on to jackshit and you should shut the fuck up.
well. he never said that to you specifically, but you know he wanted to say it. it probably recites in his mind like a mantra.
you thought you had got along with everyone pretty well, minus the doctor you won't speak of, but now that you're sitting here at this team party, you realize you haven't made any progress at all. the team doesn't need you; since you're on the team, all they can do is to be polite to you and accept you as one of their own, but at the end of the day, they're a family and you're just the stray cat lurking outside their house looking for any spare food or love.
outside the office, jareau, prentiss, garcia, hotch, morgan and reid becomes jj, em, pen, still hotch (but more affectionately), derek and spence and you stay as y/l/n. you're tough, and it shouldn't make you feel so upset but it does. you suck it up and laugh along with everyone and you are fine with that, as long as at the end of the day, you get to throw yourself in bed and scream the frustration out into your pillow. it was starting to look up a little bit, until doctor spencer fucking reid has to go butch it all up.
jj and emily has their heads all together along with penelope as they shout out which man she should swipe right on tinder and somehow, you found yourself sandwiched in the middle of these women, genuine tears springing up to your eyes from how hard you're laughing. emily is creative with her insults and it leaves you and jj hanging onto each other shaking with laughter, holding each other in place so that the both of you wouldn't end up on the floor. you feel good. when you look up, however, you see reid's sneering, obnoxious face looking back at you, a beer on his lips and morgan talking next to him but he's more busy looking down on you. for the past five months, you've been letting it slide--emily had pulled you over once and told you how reid feels about change, and you tried to get it, you really tried, but there are limits to your trying.
you try to ignore him and turn back to penelope's phone, jj and emily oblivious and still going at it and yelling out "left! left! dear god, get that man off the screen!" but the excitement is drained out of you. you shake the thought in your head; it's not that serious, you tell yourself, but another part fights back. it is serious. he might be smarter, and more experienced, and works faster, and better, but you both have the same job. he doesn't have any right to be such a fucking dick, and what the hell did you even do? you had just walked in the office one day and when he looked at your face, he had decided immediately that he wanted you gone and have tried to express it as openly as possible ever since.
you don't understand, and you don't know what you did to deserve being so looked down and underestimated. and it hurts, too, and from just a single read of your face he must've known how much you wanted it, to be apart of the team; he's definitely doing it deliberately.
okay, the last part isn't true. you're just paranoid. you untangle yourself from the group, saying over and over again "gotta use the restroom guys...i'm sorry, i'm sorry--" and when the attention is off of you, you walk over to spencer and grabbed at the tacky sweater he has on, dragging him up.
"hey," he whines, annoyed but giving up to you easily. you can sense morgan's amused stare but you ignore it. when you're both almost out the door, he yanks himself out of your grip. "i can walk by myself, okay?" it's dark, but you know he rolled his eyes. you lead him outside to the back of the place and he follows closely behind, but not without grumbling about it. "what do you need?"
you pat your back pockets for your pack and the front pocket for your lighter. usually, you'd ask your company if they're okay with you smoking, but that's the last thing you'd be doing when it comes to spencer. cupping your hand over the cig to prevent wind, you light the cigarette up.
"you smoke?" spencer asks. he sounds surprised.
"sometimes," you inhale, keeps the smoke in your lungs for a second, and exhales, making sure most of it blows into spencer's face. you can tell that it did, but he didn't cough. poker face, you'll give him that.
you take a couple more breaths and spencer (surprisingly) waits for you silently, and when you don't feel like smoking anymore, you throw the cig on the ground and grind it with the rough heel of your boot. you look up at him.
sometimes, you get mad at spencer for how unreasonably pretty he is. he has these big eyes that you swear has glitter in them because they're so fucking beautiful in the sun and when he smiles (which is rarely, around you) the lines on the sides of his face scrunches up like a chipmunk and his eyes would crinkle until it disappears from how wide his smile is. it makes you want to bash your head inwards.
the moon, shining on his face and highlighting his high cheekbones and the wisps of his curls is not helping your case right now. you wonder how a person so beautiful can have such an ugly personality. you know that spencer's personality is not entirely ugly, though; you've seen the way he acts around the team, but when it's you, he transform into an entirely different person. no one has ever been able to tell you why. he's nerdy and giggly and has this charming, childish energy to him when he talks, and you've seen it, inside meetings you're not in and when he doesn't know that you're around.
you're sick of it. without his cruel act, you think you and spencer would make great friends. he's the only person about the same age as you in the bau, and he takes the train home, just like you do. he's afraid of walking past this creepy abandoned movie theater on his way there and you are too. you both read toni morrison and children's books. it's a shame.
you look at him, and it's the only thing you can think about. it's a shame.
"why do you hate me, reid?"
you mean for the sentence to sound demanding, like a confrontation but it comes out weak and wobbly. you feel your guts being punched out of your body from the embarrassment. you sound pathetic, and you're afraid to look up, afraid to see the ridicule on spencer's face and you wouldn't blame him for it. but all you received is silence and when you look up, spencer just looks confused. he stands there like a victim when he's the one who's been acting like nothing but a total ass to you. and that caused the rage you needed.
"answer the damn question, doctor," you say harshly. this unfreezes his out of his trance, and he looks down. it's quiet for a while, and right when you were about to start demanding again, he says, quietly:
"i don't hate you."
and it sounds like a bad fucking lie.
"you don't hate me?" you ask, your voice a lot calmer than how you feel. "you don't hate me but every time i open my mouth it offends you? you don't hate me but you sneer at me all day long, every single time i look at you you're already looking at me thinking about how fucking stupid i am. you don't hate me but on my first day you abandoned your desk to work in the fucking lunch room because you didn't want to see my face. i don't know what the fuck i did to upset you, reid, but whatever i did i don't deserve this bullshit you're putting me up with!" you didn't realize that your voice was getting progressively louder until you're yelling, unconcerned and unaware of the raging party inside. "i get that you don't like me, okay, but i-"
your yell turns into a gasp when spencer grabs your face and crash his lips against yours, aggressive and all teeth. before you could even register what's happening your body goes pliant and you unconsciously lean in, but then spencer rips away and you and shoves you forward like some cheap doll.
"what the fuck?" you murmur to yourself, trying to gain back your balance and spencer's quick to catch you swaying on your feet. his hand finds its way to your mouth.
"goddamn it y/n, keep it down," he whisper-yells. "the entire team must've heard you--"
"get off of me!" you demand, but it sounds muffled and distorted through his hand . you thrash around but he holds you steady, too firm for you to fight against.
"promise not to scream and i will," spencer grimaces. you go limp and quiet and he slowly moves his hand and then backs away, like some scared deer. "wasn't that so hard?"
you stare at him. he's leaning on the railing now, looking at the moon. the moon looks back at him.
you try not to think about the small seconds after he’d kissed you and what it meant. it means nothing. "there are better way for you to get me to be quiet," you say, a little bit angrily. you should be fuming, but you find that you no longer have the energy. he turns to you.
"i didn't think it through."
"you not thinking through something?" you snort humorlessly. "i guess there's a first time for everything."
spencer sighs. “y/n…”
it’s the first time he’s called you by your first name, and it doesn’t help his case at all. "you still haven't answer my question, reid," you say, as coldly as possible (which is not much, admittedly. all the rage you've bottled up over these past few months you've already wasted on that rant and now you just feel tired. and you want to go home).
"i'm afraid i don't have an answer you'll be satisfied with, y/l/n," spencer spits back, matching your tone. maybe even colder. it shocks you a little, how a person with that sweet of a face and voice can be this much of an asshole. it's a waste of a human, honestly.
and it's not that you're saying spencer reid is handsome, either, because handsome doesn't mean anything if the person is a jerk. but everyone can admit he's easy on the eyes. conventionally attractive, one could say. a conventionally attractive jackass, one could also say.
"you're saying you just hate on me for so reason?" you say. "i'm a profiler too, reid, not some intern running around bringing everybody coffee. i see the way you are with other people. you act like a fucking angel, kind and considerate, but when it comes to me--"
"the team, they're my family, y/l/n," he snaps, "i'm sorry for not treating you like family when you're just a stranger." and it hurt, but you give him that one. you know that you're not one of them, it's been made painfully obvious to you, on multiple occasions, each blow harder than the last. but that's no excuse to treat you like a piece of shit, like a brick laying on his way. what, did he act like that with everyone too when he first entered the job? causing scenes with emily and hoping she won't punch him in the face for it?
"i'm not asking you to treat me like family, reid," you grit through your teeth. for a genius, he can be so fucking dense. "i'm just asking you to treat me like a coworker and not some inexperienced kid who just waltzed into the place with no qualifications. is that too much for me to ask?"
he stay silent at that. a breeze visits, and his curls dance. you unconsciously wipe at your lips, the feel and memory of it still photographic on your mind.
after a while, you get tired of waiting. "if you're not going to say anything, i'm going home, reid," you say finally, not expecting a response and not receiving one. not surprised, you turned away and start to head inside. you stop by the door. "i know i'm not really 'part of the team,'" you say, scared that you might sound too honest but it's hard to care too much now, "it's too late for me to transfer back to my old department, they've already replaced me. if i could, i would, and get out of your hair. i guess i'm sorry for not being what you expected."
the moment the words slipped out your mouth, you cringe. you're starting to sound way too weak and you don't want to sound that way, especially not in front of spencer reid, who's probably going to torment and laugh at you inside his big ass head forever. you leave before you can say anything else even more stupid and humiliating. spencer doesn't leave his spot.
***
when you come into work the next morning, it's like the entire world flipped.
there's a fresh cup of coffee sitting on your desk, still steaming and the logo on it says it was from the coffee shop close to the office. when you look around, trying to find the perpetrator you catch emily's eye across the bullpen, who smirk and shrug innocently.
you stride over to her cubicle, eyes glancing briefly over spencer's. his satchel is there, but he's nowhere to be found. you set the cup on her desk, the hard paper making a loud, confrontational sound. "explain."
"i don't know what you're talking about," she says, blinking her lashes. emily can be a great liar when she wants to, and right now, it's like she's not even trying to put in the effort. you narrow your eyes. something's definitely fishy.
"yes you do. tell me."
"i don't know what you're talking about," she repeats, stubborn and sly about it. "somethings should explain themselves."
"who left coffee on my desk this morning, prentiss?" you demand, a step away from stomping your feet like a child. she's playing unfair.
"take a sip," emily says, a suspiciously plotting smile on her painted lips. "see if he got the order right."
"so it's a he," you say accusingly. "you do know who it is!"
"'course i do," she scoffs. "now take a sip."
you could only oblige. bringing the cup close to your lips, you take a precautionary sniff. "there's no poison in here, is there?"
emily snorts. you take a careful sip, clicking your tongue, judging, and then tipping your head back and getting a large gulp. it's possibly the best coffee you've ever had in your life. you don't know why you haven't visited the place earlier. it's definitely exactly what you take in your coffee, alright, but better. it's sweeter but sharper, and it tastes like heaven on earth. you could bathe in it if you could. it's godsend, and that's an understatement.
"jesus christ," you breathe, looking at the sticker on the cup in wonder. emily chuckles.
"so he did get the order right," she says proudly. "knew he would."
"emilyy," you move onto your next strategy. if pressure doesn't work, bribery will. "who bought me this. tell me and i'll bring you coffee from this place everyday for a month." it's a win-win for both sides. you're going to start visiting this place from now on anyway, might as well pick up an extra one for her. it's a small price to pay for such a sacred piece of information.
emily remains firmly resilient, not falling into your bribes. it's fair, emily takes black, and it's hard to mess black coffee up. it probably tastes the same everywhere. damn her. "two months," you challenge. nothing. "three!"
bribery, crossed off the list. next strategy. if bribery doesn't work, whining will.
"emilyy," you cry, clutching onto the coffee as you turn her chair back and forth, spinning her in frustration. "please,"
perfect timing as always, hotch passes by, coffee cup in his hand and files in the other, frown already edged on his face despite it being so early in the morning. "y/l/n," he scolds. "stop bothering prentiss and start on your paperwork. prentiss, no phones."
without another word and two eyerolls behind him, hotch walks away. you start towards your desk but you leveled emily with your best puppy eyes, but she doesn't budge. you settle at your desk, and start pulling out things from your bag. if she doesn't want to give you the information, you'll figure it out yourself.
so a guy bought you coffee. thank god there isn't many guys in the bau, making the list easier for you to narrow down. drawing up a mental checklist, you immediately cross spencer reid off, making sure his name is blacked out by a red marker, memories of last night are still floating around in your brain.
morgan is next on your list. he is a plausible target. he's a sweet talker, after all, and loves to flirt, but the person he would bring coffee to is garcia, not you. they're basically work spouses. and if it was him, why would he start bringing coffee to you now, all the sudden? and there's no way morgan would've known how you liked your coffee, he doesn't remember his own sometimes and liked to switch things up. morgan gets crossed off lightly with a number two pencil.
hotch is next. definitely not. he doesn't even offer to pay at social events (but always end up paying). he shouldn't even be on your list. crossed off lightly with a number two pencil.
rossi. rossi's got the mind storecloud of a computer, he knows everything and pays attention to everything and remembers everything. its what makes him such a good unit chief. so he definitely would've remembered how you take your coffee. he probably knows how everyone in the entire fbi takes their coffee. but if it was rossi, emily wouldn't have been so sly and secretive about it, because there's nothing special to hide. rossi gets in one of his affectionate moods sometimes and is pretty obvious about it. once he got garcia a whole box of designer chocolates, or whatever those were. rossi's name gets crossed off lightly with a number two pencil.
you evaluate your list, stumped. you start lingering on spencer reid's blacked out name, considering it before scolding at yourself. no chance.
"whatcha thinkin' so hard about?" penelope asks lightheartedly, bouncing by. she stops at your desk, an inquisitive smile on her face. you look up and she squeals. "ooh, your coffee's received!"
your attention's immediately grabbed. "you know who bought me this?"
"don't know a thing!" penelope sings. she does a zipping motion at her mouth, throwing the zip away. "ping! the zip is down the drain."
"what are you and emily hiding from me?" you demand. "however much the guy is paying you to keep quiet, i'll pay you double!"
penelope whistles, and emily spins around in her chair to face you. "that is a pretty good deal," penelope says. "but the guy paid us his loyalties, and well..."
you sigh in defeat.
"and unlimited donuts every monday from now on," emily quips.
"i can do the unlimited donuts!" you say enthusiastically. finally, something you can work with. "every monday and fridays. how about that?"
"sorry honey, no deal," penelope grins, flaunting away. emily smirks irritatingly from across the room. you go back to work, but your mind lingers on the list.
who?
***
the coffees start to become a stable. you found that it's no use picking up your new favorite coffee from the shop because when you walk into the office, there'll be one waiting for you, still hot.
the profiler gears start turning. it has to be someone who arrives only minutes before you. maybe a secret admirer from another department? but then there would be an identifying note, a card for a date or something. no secret admirer would go under the radar for that long, and how you he know how you take your coffee?
you crafted a plan. you're going to start coming to work a ten minutes earlier and hide out in the dark. it should've been an immediate solution, but its so desperate you wanted to have it as your last resort. when you have bribed and begged everyone on the team for the identity of this man since apparently the entire team fucking knows and wants to keep from you, you decide you have to pull out your one last ace.
right before the morning that you were going to do it though, the entire team got flown out to arizona.
you'll do it when you get back.
***
something is extremely strange about spencer reid.
he's been strange ever since the night you dubbed in your head as the conversation, avoiding talking to you unless he absolutely has to and when you do get partnered up together, he would treat you like an acquaintance. not a rival. it's a fresh breath of air from being the end of his cruel comments to someone he's reluctant to work with, but it's definitely an upgrade.
so you did manage to get through his thick head.
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alyswritings · 2 months
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Panic Attack
Request: Could u possibly do a jj maybank and sister has a really bad panic attack and jj just helps her through it and is really sweet? Thanks, love your writings 💜💜
JJ Maybank x sister!reader
Summary: JJ helps his sister with a panic attack.
Warnings: panic attacks, anxiety, luke yelling
a/n: thanks for the request! hope you all enjoy! also if you want/don't want to be tagged, lmk! unrelated, i am in love with his dimple.
(gif not mine)
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Y/N races to JJ's room once she's certain he's in there after encountering Luke. She shuts and locks the door, the boy sitting on his bed, hands buried in his hair as he silently fumes.
"You're both useless pieces of shit! Your mama knew it! I know it! Your stupid friends know it!" Luke shouts over the blaring rock music.
Luke pounds on the door making Y/N jump, letting a small whimper out. She stumbles away from the door as he continues to hit the door. She quickly sits on the floor, curling up into a ball as she feels her breathing pick up and her hands start shaking.
Luke continues to shout insults and crude words, JJ fighting every urge to go out and fight back. He hears a quiet sob, his head snapping over to his sister.
"Y/N." He mumbles, rushing over to her. "Hey, hey." He sits in front of her. Y/N shakes her head, tears racing down her face as she gasps for air. "Y/N, hey, look at me." JJ cups the sides of her head, forcing her to face him. "Look at me, I'm right here. Follow my breathing." He slowly breathes in, waiting for her to attempt it. He lets out the breath, Y/N struggling to copy him.
They repeat a few times, Y/N still struggling, but getting better after a few more attempts.
"There we go, kiddo. We're gettin' there." JJ says, continuing to encourage her. "It's okay."
Y/N gets a deep breath in before Luke slams on the door again causing the girl to sob, the progress going down the drain.
"No, no, hey, hey. Keep breathing. Keep breathing, Y/N/N." JJ encourages, Y/N trying to follow his instructions. "I'm right here. Focus on me, okay? Don't listen to him." JJ slides his hands so his palms cover her ears, hoping to block their father out.
JJ kisses her on the forehead, quietly repeating reassurances to her.
After a while, she gets her lungs to work, taking slow, long breaths.
"There we go." JJ coos. "Great job, kid. C'mere." He pulls her into a tight hug. "You're okay. It's okay. He can't get us." Y/N sniffles, hiding her face in his shoulder. "I got you. Just you and me."
"What if he breaks the door?" Y/N mumbles, her words muffled from his shirt.
"Not gonna happen." JJ assures. "Come on. We can sneak out and go to the chateau, okay? Go fishing or something? Or just take a nap if you want. Sound good?" Y/N sniffles and nods, rubbing her nose. "Okay. Come on." He kisses her on the head before getting up and getting his stuff.
JJ quietly opens his window, climbing out. He helps Y/N out and then shuts the window.
"Let's go." He whispers, grabbing her hand and dragging her over to his motorcycle. "Here. Wear this." He gives her the helmet that only she ever wears -- despite her constant worries for him to wear it.
Y/N doesn't argue as she puts the helmet on her head, buckling the straps underneath her chin. She climbs on after him, tightly holding onto him as he speeds away.
Taglist: @glxwingrxse @venomsvl @wildieflower @aliciacat20 @allyson15 @gabbylovesreading @mrvlxgrl @star-wars-lover @champomiel @ironmaiden1313
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myysaints · 7 months
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saw your requests are open so i’d like to request something! something angsty because this came to me after listening to ‘cherry’ by harry styles :p reader is danny’s ex but they broke up, few months later he’s dating someone else and reader is now in a (new/fresh) relationship with another driver, max/charles i couldn’t decide so i’ll let you do that! ♡ just something angsty like him realizing how much he misses her but she’s moved on and happy 🫶🏼 hope this makes sense? ah, love your stuff btw!!!
thank u anon you're so sweet! and ughhhh this request was IMMACULATE cherry is one of my favourite harry styles songs. wasn't sure if you wanted a socmed fic, if u did lmk and i'd be happy to adapt it into one! but i hope you enjoy nevertheless :)
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I, I just miss I just miss your accent and your friends
Daniel stares down at his phone.
What a cruel twist of fate it is that the moment he opened his Instagram, he sees you.
You’re laughing in the picture, your hand looped around none other than Max’s neck. You’re sprawled on the Red Bull driver’s lap, and there’s a giddy grin on both of your faces, Max’s arm wrapped protectively around your waist. It feels bittersweet, seeing that familiar sweet smile of yours, only now it’s pointed at another man.
It’s only one photo in a carousel of others posted by your best friend. Why Daniel still follows her, he has no idea. But he stares at the photograph of you for longer than he’d like to admit.
There’s a shuffling noise from the kitchen, and Daniel’s new girlfriend pokes her head into the room. “Danny, we still going out for dinner?”
Daniel can only stare at her for a moment, too caught up in the memories of you and him to reply.
He knows what he’s doing is wrong. He knows he shouldn’t be leading this poor girl along. He knows that all this relationship is to him is a way to distract himself from what’s really eating at him. He knows that she’s just a replacement for you.
But the quizzical smile his girlfriend sends has his heart aching in guilt, so he manages a feeble nod in response, quickly shutting his phone off and throwing it onto the bed, before making his way to her smiling face.
The guilt eats him alive as he makes small talk with her over dinner. He would never admit it, but sometimes he can’t stand to look at her; to roll over in bed and see someone other than you laying beside him.
Did you know I still talk to them?
Everything changed after Zandvoort.
Daniel was partially to blame, he knew that. The crash in free practice had taken a toll on him, not just physically but mentally. The season in AlphaTauri was his one shot at proving that he still had it in him to be a class Formula 1 driver - to the world, to Red Bull, and to himself.
You were supportive of him all the way. From the moment he entered talks with Red Bull and AlphaTauri to get back into F1, to when he first got in that white and blue car at Hungary, you were always there, by his side.
But Zandvoort changed things. Zandvoort changed him.
He started to push you away. The comments from the media, from fans, from people everywhere, all around him, were starting to get to him. Did nobody believe in him anymore? Was he really not cut out for Formula 1?
Was his time really up?
The weeks of recovery were dark for the both of you. For him, most of it was spent in bed, his mind fuzzy from the painkillers and medicine, too tired and too beaten to do anything. For you, it was utter torture. To see the man you loved, the man whose laughter and mere presence brought so many smiles to those in the paddock, the man who never knew when to give up, look so futile and disappointed? It hurt.
But he hurt you more.
Does he take you walking round his parents' gallery?
It’s funny. Fate, he means. How it has a way of testing him, how it has a way of bringing his mind and him back to you. Always you.
“Has anyone seen Max and Y/N? They were supposed to arrive a while ago, are they late? ”  
Instinctively, Daniel turns. It’s almost pathetic really. How just the sound of your name catches his attention and has him whipping around, his eyes searching for you. How you unwittingly made him into your own lapdog.
You aren’t there, though, so he keeps his head down and ignores the questioning look his girlfriend sends him.
In the final few weeks, and perhaps even months, of your relationship, Daniel hadn’t been kind on you. He became bitter, spiteful, even jealous. To him, you just didn’t understand the weight on his shoulder, the pressures he had to face. But how could you? Despite all your protests and pleading, he was shutting you out of his life, bit by bit.
Every time you came over, it ended with screaming matches and you leaving with tears in your eyes. Daily visits from you turned into weekly check-ins. He started to turn his head away from you when you tried to kiss his cheek. Those turned into brusque hand squeezes. His texts, too, became sparse and dry. He recoiled from you when you were around.
He could still remember the heartbreak on your face when he told you he wanted to break up. "It's for both of our own good," he mumbled. "I need to focus on racing. You should have a life outside of me."
It was a bitter end, and to this day, Daniel still regrets not putting up enough of a fight. How stupid he had been, to think that without you, he could give his 100% to racing. How stupid he had been, to think of you as a distraction.
He can’t imagine how stupid he must appear to you now, showing up on Sunday with a new girlfriend on his arm.
Don't you call him baby
“You sure you’re okay?”
You smooth down your dress for the umpteenth time, breathing out a nervous sigh as you smile back at Max, who glances at you in slight concern. His press officer is fussing over the both of you, the paddock entrance looming both terrifyingly and excitingly ahead.
It’s about to be your first public appearance with Max, and your first public appearance at a Formula 1 grand prix since… Well, since your relationship with Daniel ended.
It’s been a rough few months. It took time, getting used to Daniel’s absence. You hadn’t realised just how much of your life had revolved around his being; it became painful to even step foot in the paddock, to even switch on the television to catch up on the latest grand prix.
Even worse was the public scrutiny. You and Daniel had always been open about your relationship, frequently sharing bits and pieces of your life together on each of your social medias. So it was no wonder than when you both stopped posting each other, and when you took down all your posts with him, that fans knew something was up.
Things hadn’t been easy. But Max had made it better. What started as a friendly reaching out turned into a heartachingly romantic and sweet courting, and now, he was your boyfriend.
You smile at Max, reaching up to press a gentle kiss on his cheek. You can hear a flurry of cameras snapping away, and you resist glancing at them, choosing instead to focus on your boyfriend. At your peck, Max ducks his head, as if suddenly shy despite the two of you having dated for going on 3 months now. Still, the small grin on his face tells you all you need to know.
“I’ll be fine,” you say as you slip your hand into his, and give a nod to his press officer. Max’s thumb smooths over your knuckles, and you finally feel yourself relax. You look into his eyes, and in this moment, you know: You’re happy.
“Don’t worry ‘bout me, baby.”
We're not talking lately
Everyone notices when you enter the paddock.
Not only because it’s the first time in months that you’ve appeared at a Grand Prix, but because you have Max Verstappen beside you. With his arm around your waist.
“What’s happening?” his girlfriend asks, craning her neck to peer at the paddock entrance. “Did someone just arrive?”
“It’s Max,” a passing journalist calls, as he hastens towards the paddock entrance himself. “With Y/N!”
Daniel can’t help himself. Really, he can’t.
It happens before he can stop himself. He’s getting up and pulling his hand from his girlfriend and his feet are taking himself over to you as if they have a mind of their own. As if they still remember that it's where he’s meant to be. By your side.
The crowd doesn’t part for him. Not anymore. He finds himself standing on the outskirts of the gathering group, watching from afar as you bashfully smile for the many snapping cameras, and cling onto Max a little tighter, as the Red Bull driver nods politely at the journalists swarming you.
“Alright, alright, let us through, please,” he hears Max say, “Let my girl have some space, yeah?”
Something akin to jealousy rears its ugly head.
Then the horde of people are moving, and some are finally beginning to notice Daniel.
“Danny!” “Daniel, over here, please!” “How’re you feeling today, Daniel?” “Daniel, how does it feel that Max is dating your ex-girlfriend?”
The question has him reeling, and he can only stare at the waiting journalist incredulously. What a ridiculous fucking question. He has half a mind to charge at the dickhead and throw a punch that will send the cunt into a coma for weeks-
“Look, mate, leave us alone, yeah? Daniel, how’re you doin’?”
Max claps a good-natured hand on Daniel’s back, steering him away from the throng of journalists and photographers, who groan before turning their attention to Fernando, who’s just gotten out of his car.
Max’s friendliness momentarily stuns him, and all he can manage out is a half-convincing “Good, good” in return. This seems to satisfy Max enough, though, because then he’s smiling and nodding and rubbing Daniel’s shoulders.
It’s at this moment Daniel realises you’re still here.
He glances back at you, trailing behind him and Max.
You’re just as pretty as ever, he thinks to himself. It’s almost as if nothing had changed. Like you’re still the one he walked into the paddock with, like you’re waiting for him to finish a conversation with Max, not the other way around.
You don’t even look his way.
“…so then I told Charles, ‘No way, there’s no way you’re convincing Carlos that!’, and then, you know what he said? Really, it’s hilarious, he-”
Max stops his rambling midway, leaning down to listen to something you whisper in his ear.
“I’m gonna head to the garage first, okay?” Daniel hears you mumble, “I’ll see you later, baby.”
Then Max tilts your head up and presses a kiss on your mouth.
It’s at this moment that Daniel can’t help but feel a little foolish. Actually, more than a little. He feels stupid, downright idiotic standing here with his ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend. Trying to pretend like everything was alright.
The worst part of it all, is that you don’t seem fazed at all. To you, it’s like he’s just another driver you bump into ever-so-often. You don’t seem to care about him. It’s like he and the weight of your shared history don’t even exist. Like it never did.
The sight of you walking away from him – again – pains him more than he thought it would. He can’t bear to lose you again, not when he’s still so fucking in love with you.
Soo he darts his hand out and grabs your wrist, and you whip around, eyes wide and stunned, and Daniel feels Max halt beside him, watching him intently.
And you’re looking at him now. Finally, you’re looking at him.
His eyes roam yours, trying to find a hint of familiarity, hoping desperately that he’ll find the same yearning and aching he feels for you reflected in your eyes.
“Don't you call him what you used to call me,” he whispers. Pleading with you.
Something in you seems to soften, and there’s a flash of pain in your eyes, but it's one that is quickly replaced with anger.
You wrench your hand from his grip and shove him away, storming off as Max follows you, casting an indecipherable look at Daniel in the process. Daniel watches as Max catches up to you, and he watches as you let him cradle you in his arms.
But it’s not your anger that hurts the most.
It’s the fact that you never once looked back at him.
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pasta-pardner · 1 year
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when arthur and john reconcile, it's too late and yet it's also just in time. (mostly acoustic indie folk)
spotify
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hyuckssunshine · 2 months
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what do you think the dreamies will be like long distance?
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nct dream in a long distance relationship
notes: tried smth different this time, if u want a text version just lmk! Hope u like it, its my first time doing it like this <3 Also, not proofread so there might be typos!
Mark makes playlists with songs that remind him of you and listens to them 24/7. Also makes playlists with you so you can both put in stuff you like and listen together. When he comes to visit you, he hides random little love notes or short poems around your house for you to find later (adorable pls). Gets so excited whenever he sees your name pop up on his screen and replies in 0.5 seconds.
Renjun sends you letters, actual handwritten letters (😩), where he pours his heart out. For some reason texting his feelings makes him cringe, but writing them in a letter's fine. Sends you pictures of his drawings and draws you sometimes, adding every little detail so he doesn't forget them. Complains to the other members about how much he misses you allll the time.
Jeno prioritizes you over anything, he'd drop everything to pick up your call. Listens to you talking about everything going on in your life, just happy to hear you voice. Also calls you while doing daily tasks, where you two don't necessarily talk a lot, but he enjoys just knowing that you're there. Makes movie dates over zoom a weekly ritual and you take turns picking the movie. He usually just ends up staring at you on his screen instead of the movie.
Haechan has absolutely no patience at all and expects you to reply to his texts as soon as he presses send. Would block you when he's mad but unblock you after 5 minutes because he genuinely can not go longer than that without telling you the most random things on his mind. Sends you a ton of selfies every day so you "don't miss his handsome face too much". Everyone's aware that he's a physical touch type of person, so whenever y'all do get to see each other he'd spend the most time literally clinging to your side, you can try whatever you want, there's no way you're getting him off of you.
Jaemin is so cute, he remembers your favorite flower and whenever he sees it somewhere, he takes a picture and sends it to you to make up for the flowers he can't give you in real life. Jaemin has one of those widgetable pets with you, which he takes very seriously by the way, he takes care of it like its his child. Cooking dates over face time, where you both (try to) cook the same meal, which usually just ends in very messy kitchens, but atleast its fun.
Chenle tries to go see you as much as he can or flies you out so you can visit him, which sadly still isn't a lot due to your busy schedules. He got y'all totwoo bracelets so you could communicate through them at all times and absolutely loves them, cause he can annoy you even when he doesn't have his phone on him. Gets gifts delivered to your house or just orders food from your favorite restaurant to your address when he feels like its time for you to eat something.
Jisung would try to get you into videogames so you'd play with him and he'd love to go on minecraft dates with you. Texts you a lot and then stops out of nowhere because he's worried that he's doing too much and you'll get bored of him. Overall Jisung's quite anxious because of the distance, so he needs you to reassure him a lotttt. Any new app for long distance couples to exist, trust me he has it and he makes you download it too.
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anakin-pilled · 5 months
Text
𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 - anakin skywalker x fem! reader (part one)
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pairing: anakin skywalker x fem! reader
wordcount: 4.8k
warnings: minimal uses of y/n (trying to avoid writing this as much as possible but sometimes u need to!), awkwardness, anakin needs a break, POV switching (im trying something new, but its still in 3rd POV), reader is a popstar (very loosely based of taylor swift), too many scenes (i'll limit it next chapter) rating: 18+ (my blog is 18+ only)
rating: 18+ (my blog is 18+ only)
taglist: lmk if u want to be added!
author's note: well, here it is!! my first anakin fanfic!! i was listening to gorgeous by taylor swift and it just reminded me of how much i hate beautiful men (hayden christensen) and the effect they have on me and then this feeling just spirialed and became a fanfic--and my first ever mini series! i'm aiming for four or five parts? enjoy!!! (proofread but if u see a mistake pls tell me). sorry if the first part is boring, i'm just trying to set the vibe and introduce the major plot elements! creds to saradika for the header!
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All Anakin Skywalker wanted was one, uninterrupted kriffing break. Yet, even that seemed like too much to ask from the Maker. With an annoyed sigh, Anakin quickly ended the call on his comlink and made his way out of his living quarters and towards the Jedi Council’s meeting room. “What do they want from me now?” Anakin thought to himself. 
It wasn’t unusual for Anakin to sport an attitude, but lately, his foul mood had been exacerbated in the last few months for several reasons. Anakin’s recent breakup with Padme laid heavy in his heart. As the war raged on and both of their duties called them away for weeks, even months, at a time, the young couple rarely had time to see each other. It was supposed to be a small break at first–Padme was working on an important bill that could change the tide of the war, so she wanted to focus all her energy on gaining support for the bill from fellow Senators and campaigning for its passage on the Senate floor. So, Padme suggested that she and Anakin take a quick pause on their relationship until she was finished with the bill. But even after the bill passed, Padme was too consumed by her senatorial duties to put her all into a relationship. Anakin was just as busy on the battlefields, traveling to distant systems, and ensuring that the Separatists did not win any more than they already had. However, he was still willing to put an effort into their relationship because he loved Padme more than life itself. Padme was Anakin’s first love, and they had already been through so much together. Didn’t that mean something? It was late one night when the couple retired to Padme’s apartment that she dropped the news. Anakin felt as if his whole world shattered. He begged on his knees to Padme, to give them another chance. She insisted it was for the best and that she would reach out to him in a few months when she felt ready. Anakin would be lying if he said a part of him was shocked. After all, Padme put her job as Senator above everything else. But still, it hurt knowing that the one person who he would abandon everything for, would not do the same for him. 
Aside from the breakup, Anakin was tired of the constant fighting, the rising death toll, and the never-ending chaos that always seemed to follow him. The 501st Clone Battalion’s most recent war campaign was brutal, and they lost a few men to Trandoshan separatists while in battle at a small, Outer Rim planet. Anyone could see that Anakin thrived in war. He was nicknamed the “Hero With No Fear” for a reason. But, the death of his men, or any man under Republic forces, always left his heart and mind unsettled. 
As Anakin reached the door to the Jedi Council, he quickly shook his head as if to ward away his dark thoughts. He really should meditate more. The door opened and Anakin was greeted with the sight of the Jedi Masters sitting in a circle, he noticed many of them appeared via holoprojectors. 
“Hello masters,” Anakin said with a bow. He looked around until he met eyes with Obi-Wan, who happened to be off-planet at the moment. Obi-Wan gave Anakin an uneasy smile which blared the alarms in Anakin’s head. Anakin was already in a defensive mode due to his rocky relationship with the council. 
It was Mace Windu who spoke first. “General Skywalker, we have called you here today to discuss an upcoming mission. It is to our understanding that you are currently on a break right now, however, you were specifically requested by the Chancellor for this task.” It must be an important mission if the Chancellor himself requested that Anakin carry it out. 
“There will be an upcoming charity event hosted in honor of the Republic to raise funds for the war effort. The event is being held in Corulag in ten rotations from now. While Corulag is part of the Republic, there have been recent Separatist activities within the planet and its system,” Master Windu continued.
“And what will I need to do while in Corulag?” Anakin asked with a slight edge in his voice. He really didn’t want to travel off-world.
“You will be the personal escort and bodyguard to the charity’s main event, singer (Y/N) (L/N). She will be performing a show as part of the charity and her presence is estimated to bring in a lot of credits for the war effort. While we don’t personally believe there will be a threat on her life, the Chancellor suspects that the Separatists may try to infiltrate the singer as a way to ruin the charity’s efforts.” 
Anakin felt his annoyance flare up again. He was being taken away from his well-deserved break time to babysit a singer? This was a job that even a Padawan could carry–Ahsoka could do it with her eyes closed. 
Even through the holoprojector, Obi-Wan could see the tale tell signs of his former student’s growing anger. He pitied the boy. Obi-Wan felt that Anakin deserved his break, especially after his most recent mission. However, it was not up to Obi-Wan alone to make these decisions. With the war prolonging itself more than necessary and the expenses rising every day, the Republic needed as many credits as it could get from its supporters. Obi-Wan quickly piqued up from the side to calm his friend, “Anakin, the Chancellor personally requested you as the singer is a family friend of his, and he trusts you. The Council will discuss giving you vacation time after completing your mission.” As vexed as Anakin might have been at first, he certainly didn’t want to disappoint the Chancellor. He had no choice but to accept the mission. Anakin silently nodded to the council. 
“Recieve more instructions tomorrow, you will. Rest for now,” said Yoda from his chair. 
And with that, the meeting was over. Anakin said his goodbyes with a bow and walked out.
After Anakin left the meeting, he headed towards the Jedi Archives to conduct some research on his new mission. He wasn’t interested in who the singer was, or what she did. Rather, he wanted to know what kind of person she was–was she a controversial celebrity, or did she stay in the lines? Anakin prayed he wasn’t dealing with some crazy, entitled celebrity who did whatever she wanted. That would make his mission harder than it needed to be. He had heard of the singer’s name in passing from Ahsoka, who kept up with recent trends via the HoloNet. As a General and a Jedi Knight, Anakin no longer had the same sense of freedom that he had as a Padawan, even though he had much less freedom than his other Padawan counterparts. “Perks of being the Chosen One, I suppose,” Anakin bitterly whispered to himself. 
Anakin filtered past the front desk of the Archives after giving Madame Jocasta a quick nod and small time. He wanted to be in and out so he could get food from the Temple’s cantina before retreating to his living quarters for the night. 
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“What do you mean they are assigning a Jedi Knight as my security detail?! I thought this was supposed to be a simple concert for a charity event, why are they assigning a Jedi if there is no imminent danger?!” you exclaimed to your manager, Gido Frisco, with a pointed look. 
When you agreed to perform at this charity event, you did so because you wanted to help raise credits for the Republic. Your management discouraged you from having any outspoken opinions on politics as it could lead to alienation from fans and tabloid backlash. But after your home planet became a recent victim to Separatist forces, you could no longer idly sit by and continue living as if the war didn’t affect you. When the charity’s organizers approached you to do this event, you happily agreed because all the credits earned were going to a meaningful cause. To the Republic. To democracy. 
The event was to consist of several performances by famous artists from throughout the Core Worlds, but you were the headlining event. Though you would humbly deny it, your popularity superseded everyone else set to perform. The media and your fans dubbed you “the Galaxy’s princess” due to your popularity as a singer across the Galactic Core. You hated that nickname. You were very far from a princess–you were just lucky enough to be born with an innate musical talent. Nonetheless, you were still treated as if you were royalty. 
“Look, I’m going to be blunt with you. There has been Separatist activity in and around Corulag, but we don’t predict that it will directly affect you. Think of the Jedi as an extra security personnel. They won’t let anybody or anything hurt you,” explained Gido. 
“Who is we?”
“We as in myself, and the Chancellor. He was quite worried for your safety when he heard of your acceptance to perform.” That made much more sense. The Chancellor, an old family friend of yours, often looked out for you throughout your years on Coruscant. You had no family on the planet as all your family lived on Bar’leth, only visiting you every few months. While you saw them as often as you could, the help and care they provided you was limited to messages on your holo tablet and calls via communicator. The Chancellor took it upon himself to help you whenever he could. You were extremely grateful for his help, but you couldn’t help but feel unnerved by the thought of having a Jedi accompany you. You knew Jedis were the peacekeepers of the galaxy. As the war started and worsened, the Jedi were thrust into a new, partial position. Where the Jedi went, trouble unfortunately followed. Would more trouble follow you if you were accompanied by a Jedi than if you were not? Only time would tell. 
“Very well. And when will I meet this Jedi?” 
“You will meet him tomorrow morning. Please do not stress the situation. We are merely taking precautions. Rest for tonight and we will talk more in the morning. Goodnight, princess.” And with that, Gido walked out of your apartment and you were left alone.
You walked outside and onto your balcony and observed the night sky. Your eyes followed the speeders flying through the air–a cacophony of honks and whizzes! reached your ears. You leaned upon the stone masonry of the balcony’s railing and rested your elbows on its surface. You then laid your cheek in your palm and closed your eyes as the lights of Corscuant reflected off your statue. You took into the slight breeze of the night and enjoyed this moment of serenity. Who knows what the next few rotations will bring? You could only hope you would suffer a nicer faith than your home planet. Your eyes opened, and you retreated into the lush interior of your apartment and began your nightly routine. 
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Holy kriff, this man is kriffing gorgeous! Those were the first words that popped into your head when you saw the Jedi knight walk into your living room. It was early in the morning. You thought he was only supposed to accompany you at the charity benefit, but your team thought it would be best if he accompanied you throughout the week as you prepared for the event and ran errands. 
As he walked closer to you, you felt your mouth run dry and a creeping heating sensation sprouted from the base of your neck to your cheeks. You could only hope he didn’t feel the heat radiating off your body. He was wearing dark-colored robes, with a maroon long-sleeve undershirt, and only one leather glove on his right arm. Was this a fashion statement of some kind? Gido spoke up before you could say anything. 
“Welcome, and thank you for being here Jedi. I can assure you that it means very much to us and I hope that you find yourself comfortable for the next few rotations. Our team will do its best to ensure you are properly accommodated. My name is Gido Frisco, and I am (Y/N)’s manager.” Gido reached out his hand for Anakin to shake. Anakin took his hand in a firm grip and replied.
“Thank you. My name is Anakin Skywalker, general of the 501st Legion. I will do my best to keep (Y/N) safe.”
Anakin. You had heard of him before–he was the Republic’s poster boy and a very successful leader. Though you knew of him, you had yet to put a face to the name until now. Instead of making eye contact with the man, you simply stared at the ground until Gido included you in the conversation. 
“And this is (Y/N),” Gido said. 
You then looked up at Anakin and made eye contact with the gorgeous man in front of you. Your eyes widened slightly as you took in the color of his eyes. They were a dazzling shade of blue that was highlighted by the scar running down the right side of his forehead to underneath his eye. 
There was an awkward moment of silence before you stuttered as you reintroduced your name to Anakin and shook his hand. Shit, he's strong, you thought as he shook your hand with a firm grasp. If there was one thing you were weak for, it was a strong man. A strong, beautiful man!
“Pleasure to meet you too. I’ll be at your service this week,” Anakin stated with a small smile. Kriff, even his voice was attractive! You could only stare at him and nod. You were truly at a loss for words. Wait, can he hear my thoughts right now? You thought to yourself. You heard the Jedi could use the Force to read minds, but you didn’t know if this was just a rumor. You hoped it was just a rumor or you'd find yourself burying yourself six feet under the ground out of embarrassment.
“Well, now that you two are acquainted, I’ll be taking Anakin so we can go over the security details. Stay here until then.” Gido then led Anakin out of the room and that was the last you saw of the Jedi until dinner time. 
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When Anakin woke up the next morning, he walked toward the Temple’s catina to grab a warm cup of caf and breakfast. The food was meager most days, but it beat having to live off the plain-tasting ration bars that he ate most of the time when he was on missions and campaigns. As Anakin walked through the tables to find a seat, he was greeted by the site of his former master sipping on a cup of tea and conversing with Ahsoka. 
“Ahh, Anakin. Nice to see you this morning. I am terribly sorry that you have been called upon for another mission. I do believe that your rest was well-deserved, but unfortunately, I had no power over this decision,” Obi-Wan stated as he continued to sip on his tea. 
“Thanks, Master. I can’t say I’m particularly excited about this, but hopefully, after this is done, I can properly enjoy my rest.”
“Master, you’re so lucky! I am so jealous of you right now. I wish I could join you, but Master Sinabu has requested that I assist him in a few lessons with the younglings,” Ashoka pipped in. “Hey, do you think you could get me an autograph?” She was excited. Ahsoka was no stranger to being in the company of high-profile people, but most of the time, it was limited to officials and members of the Senate. Boring! The thought of her master working with one of the most famous singers of this generation was honestly hilarious to her. A part of her wished it was her on this mission instead. The last time Anakin was on babysitting duty was when Ahsoka first joined Anakin as his Padawan was to rescue Jabba the Hutt’s son. Much like Anakin, Ahsoka believed this task could’ve been carried out by a Padawan, but as Obi-Wan explained to her, the Chancellor personally requested Anakin for this task. 
“Snips, I’m there to protect, not get autographs. Try practicing your mediation skills, and maybe I’ll get you an autograph,” Anakin said with a small smirk on his face. Much like him in his Padawan days, Ahsoka found meditating tedious and boring. He honestly should meditate more to set a better example, but Anakin’s teaching method was more of “Do as I say, not as I do.” 
“Oh come on Skyguy! You owe me this favor after I saved your butt back on Florrum. What would you have done if I wasn’t there to save you from all those assassin droids?” quipped Ashoka with a slight raise in her eyebrows. Damn, she got me there, thought Anakin to himself. But, he wasn’t going to let her have this win so easily. One might say that Anakin was acting immature for his age, but he and Ahsoka’s relationship thrived off witty remarks and friendly competition. Anakin’s relationship with Ahsoka was one of the most precious things in his life. 
“Except I won our last sparring battle. That makes us even, no?” Ahsoka’s smile quickly dropped, and she glared at her master. Anakin took a sip of his caf and continued, “Only kidding, Snips. I’ll try to get you that autograph. I might be too busy trying to keep this singer out of trouble.”
Obi-Wan observed his former student and Ahsoka with fondness. “Do not worry, young one. You will beat Anakin one day. A student is only as good as their teacher, and you have a good teacher. I would know–I taught him,” Obi-Wan joked with the two. “Anakin, I hope this mission goes smoothly. I know how badly your last assignment went.” Obi-Wan placed his hand on Anakin’s shoulder and squeezed it.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Though Anakin’s ego subsided since he lost his arm at the Battle of Geonosis, it didn’t mean he liked talking about his failures. The Separatists somehow acquired important Republic intel and managed to ruin Anakin’s battle strategy with a surprise attack. He and his men just barely made it out on time before a full Separatist takeover happened. Anakin’s appetite was ruined by the thought of it. 
Suddenly, Anakin’s commlink beeped and he knew it was time to head out to the hangar and receive his instructions for the week. He said his farewells to Obi-Wan and Ahsoka before going to the hangar, where he was surprisingly greeted by the Chancellor. The older man smiled at Anakin and shook his hand.
“Anakin, my boy. I cannot express my gratitude to you for accepting this assignment. You see, I specifically asked for you because I knew that I could trust you with my dear family friend. I do hope that you take care of her well.” 
“Of course, Chancellor. She will be safe under my watch.” 
“Now, she shouldn’t give you any trouble. She is a well-mannered girl. However, I have just received secret Separatist intel and wanted to share it with you before I visit the council. According to the intel, Count Dooku has ordered intelligence to interfere with the benefit. Our report says that he is planning on hacking our broadcasting signal and threatening the talent for the whole galaxy to see. For what, I do not not know. While we do expect the benefit to raise many credits for the Republic, the show will also provide a boost in morale for the citizens of the Republic. I theorize that Count Dooku wishes to ruin the public’s perception of the Republic’s efficiency and control over the war and the talent are a way to do this,” explained Chancellor Palpatine.
Anakin furrowed his brows. “Seems like Count Dooku is running out of scare tactics. Chancellor, the Jedi will ensure that the benefit proceeds as expected and that no harm comes to anyone there.” 
The Chancellor smiled at Anakin’s words. “Thank you, my boy. Now I mustn’t take any more of your time. I will let you go now. You will receive more information on the Separatist intel later on.”
Anakin and the Chancellor shook hands once more before Anakin boarded his ship and plugged in the coordinates provided to him by the council. 
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Anakin’s first impression of you was that you were pretty. A delicate kind of pretty that Anakin had only seen in one other person before, Padme. But as quickly as the thought entered his conscious, he pushed it toward the back of his mind. What was he even thinking? He chalked up to him missing Padme. Yeah…Anakin just missed Padme and now that he was in the same familiar situation that he was in a few years ago when he first met Padme, familiar feelings are rising. After all, this wasn’t the first time Anakin had been sent on bodyguard duty for a well-known beautiful public figure. 
Your manager introduced himself to Anakin and then introduced you to him. Though he wasn’t excited about this mission, he couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit relieved that he would be staying in your luxurious apartment for the next few rotations until you traveled off-world. It wasn’t very often that the Jedi were afforded such accommodations. Anakin had spent his fair share of nights seeking refuge in strange, foreign biomes with only mere sticks and leaves as shelter. If he couldn’t sleep in the comfort of his private quarters at the Temple, he might as well enjoy the lavish high-rise Coruscanti apartment. 
Despite Anakin’s initial impression of you, your reaction toward him was…intriguing. Based on his research last night, Anakin couldn’t anything on the HoloNet that painted you in a bad light. Sure, there were the occasional tabloid articles that made outrageous claims about you, but all of those were overridden by the amount of good publicity you got. Charismatic, friendly, confident, a sweetheart–these were all words used to describe you by the various media outlets. But the person standing in front of Anakin seemed everything but that. 
Your nervous energy radiated off you and permeated Anakin’s senses through the force. You avoided eye contact with him until your manager forced you to properly look at Anakin and introduce yourself to him. You definitely didn’t seem as confident as the Holo Net made you out to be, but Anakin didn’t fault you for this. He’s sure you felt nervous in the presence of a Jedi because it implied that there was some danger lurking around. If there wasn’t, he wouldn’t have been assigned to his task. What did you know about the terrors of war and the cruel reality of death and destruction? You were just a rich celebrity located within the safe confines of the Galatic Core. Anakin felt a twinge of jealousy at this notion. He knew that he belonged with the Jedi, but Anakin couldn’t help but feel envy at the fact that you were simply an innocent civilian whose daily life was virtually unaffected by the war. You didn’t have to witness violent bloodshed, say goodbye to your comrades, and live life constantly on the move. Sometimes Anakin longed for his days on Tatooine when he lived with his mother and worked in Watto’s workshop. He was a poor slaveboy, but at least he had his mother, and life was relatively peaceful. Before Anakin could harp on these thoughts any longer, he caught a stray thought that didn’t belong to him. 
Kriff, even his voice was attractive! Anakin was sure the thought didn’t belong to Gido, so he could only assume that it belonged to the woman standing in front of him. Anakin internally smirked to himself. Could it be that Anakin made you nervous for reasons other than him being a Jedi? Perhaps…you found Anakin attractive. Anakin didn’t care if you found him attractive, but it did boost his ego a bit. It seems his split from Padme was affecting him more than he thought. Since when did trivial things like this matter? 
Anakin looked over you once more before following Gido to discuss the schedule and plan for the upcoming rotations. 
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Dinner was…awkward, to say the least. It was just you and Anakin eating in your dining room. Gido had some business he needed to attend to so he could not join you for dinner. Anakin insisted that he could eat somewhere else as he did not want to intrude, but you insisted that he eat with you. It was the polite thing to do. But after you insisted that Anakin sat with you, you realized that you had nothing to talk about. A singer and a Jedi Knight turned war general? What would you have in common? A pregnant silence enshrouded you both. Only the soft clinks of silverware could be heard. 
You sipped on your water every few bites to calm your nerves. This was so unlike you! Honestly, you were never one to shy away from anyone’s presence. A part of your job was selling a likable persona to the public–countless interviews, media appearances, meet and greets! You had done these all with grace and a smile. Yet you couldn’t find the proper words to say to the gorgeous man sitting right across from you. Geez, he must think I’m one of those stuck-up celebrities, you chided in your head. You were far from stuck up, but something about Anakin set your nerves on fire and made the social part of your brain feel like mush. Sweat started building up in your armpits as you thought about it. You had to do something to salvage your reputation and stop yourself from sweating through your outfit.
You cleared your throat and looked up from your dinner plate. “So, Anakin. How do you know the Chancellor? I hear you’re friends with him.”
“I’ve known the Chancellor since I was a little boy. We first met when I left my home planet after I was discovered by a Jedi named Qui-Gon Jinn. He was Naboo’s representative back then.”
“Oh, that's interesting. My family goes way back with the Chancellor too. My father and him studied at the same university on Naboo. Though my father was a few grades below the Chancellor, they became good friends,” you replied. 
Anakin nodded at your story before focusing his attention elsewhere. You internally deflated once you saw he did not seem to care about keeping a conversation. However, if you were going to spend the new few rotations together, you’d rather it not be more awkward than it already was. 
“Uhm, where are you from? You mentioned that you left your home planet. I’m not from Coruscant either! I am from Bar’leth.” 
“Tatooine,” Anakin answered curtly. The way Anakin said Tatooine almost made you think that he disliked his home planet. He didn’t say it with any fondness, or longing. 
“That’s in the Outer Rim, right? I’ve never been. How is it?” you questioned.
“Hot, lawless, and sandy.” Another short answer.
You got the impression that Anakin wasn’t exactly fond of his home planet, so you decided to change the subject of conversation. “You travel a lot as a Jedi. Which has been your favorite planet so far?”
Anakin was silent for a moment before, as if he were thinking deeply about it. In reality, Anakin knew his favorite planet. Naboo. He only paused for a moment because he was unsure if he wanted to reveal this information to you. Though it was seemingly an innocent question (and it was), Anakin felt it was a vulnerable question. Naboo is the planet he spent days frolicking in the lush, romantic meadows with Padme, falling deeper in love with her as the days passed. Naboo represented a part of Anakin that no longer existed–an Anakin that didn’t know the pain of losing a mother, losing a part of himself in the process. When his mother died, gone became the young boy with a golden aura and eyes full of hope. On Naboo, Anakin was still bright and naive with a laughter full of joy and excitement. That Anakin died the day he and Padme set out to find his mother on Tatooine. Anakin wished every day to the Maker that part of him could come back from the dead and replace who he currently was. To better days.
“Naboo. That’s my favorite planet,” answered Anakin. He decided to be truthful instead of responding with a random planet. Anakin didn’t know what compelled him, but he knew you were only being polite. 
“Naboo is beautiful. Though I mainly grew up in Bar’leth, I spent a lot of my childhood summers in Naboo. I don’t think there is any other planet with views as stunning as Naboo,” you revealed. 
You felt that there was nothing else to say. The remainder of the dinner was quiet. Though there wasn’t as much tension as before, it was still awkward. You finished your dinner as quickly as possible before retreating to your personal quarters for the evening. 
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To be continued!
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ilwonuu · 4 months
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I seen and read
˖first time. k.yeosang
Can you make a san version and Seongwha version pretty please. I'm not comfortable showing my name. But I'll give me initials TC
YES YES!!! thank you for your request!! seonghwa version soon<3 I HOPE U LIKE
𖥔 ͙ࣳ   𓂃 first time. c.san
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summary- your and your boyfriend have sex for the first time.
warnings- protected sex,sweetbf!san, affection, kissing, hickeys, slight blood, overstimulation, squirting, first time, pet names(love,sweet girl, baby) (sannie), lmk what else 😇
authors note- this one might be better or worse than the yeosang one but make sure to read that one😘😘
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your boyfriend has never rushed you into sex. always making sure to take his time with you and not making you feel pressured. you feeling more comfortable with him than anyone you know. now that you are thinking that you’re ready for sex. you decided to bring it up to him.
“sannie?” you call out to him before joining him in your shared bed. “yes love?” he looks at you happily. “are you tired?” you ask biting your lip nervously. he shakes his head. “only a little love. why whats up?” he shifts more of his attention to you.
“well.. i wanted to talk about you taking my virginity san…” he nods at you listening intensely. “i think i’m ready for you san. i want to have sex with you.” you say trying to sound as sure as possible. “oh really love?”
you nod at him quickly. “you wanted to do this tonight?” he asked not taking his eyes off you. “yes.. sannie i need you.” you say playing with his shirt slowly pulling it off him.
“a little eager?” he chuckles at you. “been thinking about you all day sannie.” you look away from him. a little shy about how openly needy you’re being.
“should’ve said something sooner hm?” he pulls your shirt off you. he slowly kisses down your chest and pulls your pants off you. “i would’ve taken care of my needy girl earlier love.” he smiles at you innocently. he starts softly sucking on your neck.
you moan out his name at the feeling. “touch me sannie..” you practically cry out. “mm of course love.” he pulls your panties to the side moving you so that you’re sitting on his lap now. you back against his chest as his hands rest on your thighs. “let me make sure you’re prepared okay love? it’s your first time and i don’t want to hurt you at all okay?” he smiles at you as he inserts his first finger into you. he kisses and sucks on your neck watching as you squirm under his touch. “look so pretty hm.” he says watching your mouth fall open as his finger hits you deeply. you moan quickly showing him you’re enjoying the feeling.
“san-please more i cant-“ he is watching you from the side in awe as he slides another finger into you. “you’re so wet already love.. i just started touching you.” he sucks on your neck roughly leaving marks.
“oh fuck.” his words immediately making you squirm again against him. “feel good sweet girl?” his voice and his words having you intoxicated as you nod quickly. he curls his fingers deeper into you. hitting your g-spot repeatedly. “s-sannie please fuck me.” you manage to mumble to words. “yea love? thats what you want ill give it to to you.” he smirks pulling his fingers out and putting them into his mouth.
“let me grab a condom okay sweet girl?” he shifts you to lay down on the bed as he grabs a condom out of his drawer.
you two bought some to have them ready for whenever you two needed them. “okay we’re gonna go slow okay?” he says as he pulls down his pants and his boxers letting his hard dick out. “i can take it sannie please.” you beg him sweetly.
“okay i believe you love but still just making sure you are comfortable okay?”
he moves in between your legs slightly lining up with you. you watch him as he slides the condom onto his dick. lining up with you as he gives your head a quick kiss. “you ready?” he asks you unclasping your bra and throwing it somewhere in the room.
“yes i’m ready sannie.” you smile at him. he pushes his dick into you slowly. his eyes going immediately to your face as it forms into a uncomfortable expression.
“tell me how you’re feeling love.” he says looking at where you two are now connected. “h-hurts a bit sannie.” he nods as he puts his head against yours not pushing in any further. “we’re going at your pace okay love? tell me when to move.” he rubs your cheek softly. “o-okay.” you try to adjust to san’s length.
“i t-think you can move sannie.” you say shutting your eyes. “you sure love?” he asks you again. “y-yea.” you say slightly tearing up. he pushes more of his dick into you. “s-shit.” he curses at how tight you feel around him. “sannie- you’re so b-big.” he groans bottoming out. “you-shit are you okay?” he asks you as he kisses your shoulder. “yea- it feels so full. sannie please fuck me!” you cry out to him.
“shit you sure?” he asks again making sure you’re completely okay before he moves. “yes sannie please..” you moan out his name feeling him slowly pull out before pushing back into you.
“fuckkk you’re so wet but still so fucking tight” he groans at the noises your cunt is making. “san oh my god! fuck.” your eyes are rolling back in your head. his dick fucking into you so softly but roughly.
“feel good?” he rests his hands next to your head as he slows his thrusts down waiting for your response. “so good sannie.” you manage to get out through your constant moans. he smiles speeding his hips up slowly. “sannie- i think im gonna cum.” you cry out for him as you feel his thumb move to rub your clit quickly. “yea? my sweet girl gonna cum for me?” he smirks at your bodies soft shaking. you cum hard on his dick.
your eyes closing quickly as your body shakes again. your mine goes blank as your squirt all over san’s chest. “shit love. you just squirted all over us hm? look at that pretty mess.” he smiles at you innocently speeding up his hips just a little. “sannie- i cant- feels too good.” you are completely fucked out under him. he is fucking you so good. you don’t even know how you came so quickly.
“yea? love i’m so close. you can take it for a little longer hm?” he asks you sweetly as his hips stutter. “san- i can- but i think im gonna cum a-again.”
the overstimulation being too good for you. “yea baby? let go my sweet girl.” san is now all sweaty and hot. he is focused on his orgasm and your sweet expressions. his legs slightly shake as he cums into the condom. the feeling of his hips hitting your g-spot a couple more times before you are squirting all over him again. “shit shit sannie-“ you are cut off with a sweet kiss from san. “yes fuck love. look at you.” he looks at you kissing your neck softly before pulling out of you.
you catch your breath a little bit before seeing a little bit of blood between your legs. “shit- san im bleeding a little.” you say sitting up quickly to go to the bathroom. “you okay? did i hurt you?”
you shake your head. “no no it’s okay san! im just a little scared that theres blood. “ he nods. “don’t worry sweet girl. im here to help with that okay? you want to take a shower or bath? ill take one with you. does that sound okay?” he asks pulling you into his arms before following you as you walk to the bathroom.
you tearing up a little bit now. “hey hey don’t cry okay? im so sorry baby.” he says kissing your cheek. “lets shower please sannie?” you ask him as he quickly turns on the water. “of course my love. come here.” he pulls you into the shower with him. he washes you body gently as he massages your back. “just rest okay baby? i got you.” he smiles at before going back to washing you off.
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hockeymenarehot · 5 months
Text
Late Night Calls Feat. Bill Kaulitz
pairing: best friend!bill kaulitz x fem!reader
summary: bill kaulitz has always been your best friend, and you've always confided to him. when you wake up startled from a nightmare, you decide to call him. what you don't expect are his feelings towards you.
warnings: smut, fem reader, phone sex, masturbation (fem. & m.), squirting, praise, pet names (darling, princess), it's implied he steals your panties, u cry and it turns him on, depictions of nightmares, lmk if I missed anything!
for my bae: @billkaulitzbaeee
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You heave in a large amount of air, your body shooting up from its once peaceful resting spot. Your eyes frantically survey your room, and you clutch the silky smoothness of your nightgown as you attempt to collect your thoughts. Just a dream, it was just a dream you repeat in your head as you feel the cool air of your fan, the sweat on your forehead slowly dissipating. The attempt to calm yourself seemed to be working for your mind, but not so much your body. Your heart was still beating at a fast pace, and your ears still had a subtle ring. Deciding that trying to get some sleep on your own would be futile, you slowly reached for your phone.
3:38 A.M.
You weren't sure if your best friend, Bill, would pick up his phone but decided that it was more likely he would. He would do almost anything for you and you knew that. You found comfort in his presence, from his subtle sweet touches to his kind words. He was always there for you. You searched through the sea of your contacts before finding his number, giving it one final thought before pressing the Call button.
Ring, ring. Two full rings before he picks up.
"Hello?"
His voice sounded husky, like you had just awoken him from what might've been the best sleep of his life. Feeling guilty about this quite obvious realization you muster up a meek "Hi," and you begin to question if this was actually a good idea. I mean, it isn't like you've never been vulnerable with him before, but this time seemed so much different.
You couldn't tell what it was that was off, but something about it made you feel a little embarrassed, shameful even. Almost as if you'd walked in on him doing something he wouldn't want you to see. And honestly, you were enjoying it. "I'm sorry, did I wake you up?" You whisper, still feeling a certain amount of guilt. "No, no, not at all. I barely sleep." Liar, you thought to yourself. "Is there something you needed? Did something happen?" His voice had a slight sense of urgency to it, which you found quite endearing. "No... well, sort of," you begin quietly "I had a nightmare..." Your voice left your mouth in almost a whine, and you could almost catch the way his breath hitched over the poor phone quality. "I'm sorry, darling" That name he had never referred to you by. Strange. "Tell me... tell me what happened." Some shuffling on his end. You began telling him about the great atrocities of your nightmare, all of the chasing and adrenaline. The monsters you would see around every corner, or maybe your lost loved ones. He would acknowledge you every so often with a short "Hm," or "I'm sorry" to let you know he was still listening. Or at least to keep you under the impression that he was. He truly did care about you and your wellbeing, its just in all honesty you were perfectly fine. Your voice sounded so perfect to his ears, and the subtle whines and borderline moans you would serve him as you described your nightmare had him in a shameful position. One you had yet to pick up on, and this was annoying him. He decided he was going to test the waters. "Nggh-" Silence. "Are.. are you okay? You sound hurt." There was a level of surprise and concern in your voice, still trying to interpret the noise that just left his mouth. "I'm fine, don't worry about me darling. Just keep running your pretty mouth." You had no reason to question him or his honesty, so you continued. Your story of your nightmare turned into more stories of previous nightmares, some even worse than the one you had experienced tonight. But you trusted him with all this information, and it felt good to finally get it off your chest. Eventually, the recollection of all these horrible visions brought tears to the corners of your eyes. Your voice began to quiver as the tears fell down your face and rolled onto your plush comforter, leaving tiny damp spots. Not even 30 seconds into your crying session, and you heard a loud moan from his end, along with an undeniable squelching noise. This left you speechless, before you said "Are you?..." His breath hitched once more "Fuck princess, so you finally caught on. So sorry... You have no idea how crazy you make me. When you called me whining 'n moaning I just couldn't help myself." You felt your heart skip about two beats at his words, your face heating up and painting your cheeks a rosy pink. He would probably tease you if he could see you. "I- I had no idea you, um, that of me like.. that." You heard a sarcastic sounding laugh before he spoke again "You're telling me you had no idea? Come on princess, I know you aren't that stupid. Plus, I know you feel it too." His voice was still coated with the same huskiness as he spoke. "Bill, I have no idea what you're talking about. You aren't making any sense!" You whisper yelled. "Really? Don't play dumb with me. You don't think I see the way you look at me? The way you clench your thighs every time I so much as brush your arm? The way you stutter any time I compliment you? You can't do all that and leave me hangin', princess." You took a moment to think before noticing how hard your thighs were pressed together, and how your core was aching. Aching for him. You never wanted to acknowledge this part of yourself, the part that wanted him so badly. But as he's on the other end of the phone fisting his cock to the mere sound of your voice, you come to the conclusion that you're passed the point of return.
So, with shame you let out a strained whisper "Please," and you hear him groan on the other side of the line. You can tell he's been waiting for this. "Please what, princess? Use your words, I know you can." Your ears pick up some subtle sqeulching sounds again, so you swallow your pride and try your best to stabilize your voice "Please help me cum, I need you. Need you so bad." This apparently satisfies him. "That's my girl. Why don't you take off those pretty panties for me? I know you're wearing those pretty pink ones that you wear so much. Just for me, huh?" You choose to ignore the implications of his words, too focused on the increasing noises he's making and the fire in the pit of your stomach. Doing as your told you remove your pink panties and throw them onto the floor, bunching up the buttery silk of your nightgown to give you better access to your soaking cunt. "Now what?" you groan, feeling your neediness increase. "Mm, Fuck. Bet you're so wet. I bet you can already take two fingers. Do that for me. Fuck your fingers, I know you can." You whine at his words, feeling your arousal pool onto your comforter. But you do as your told, trailing your cool fingers down your abdomen and towards your aching pussy. "Nuh-uh, pretty girl. Need you to put the phone next to your sweet cunt. Need to hear the way your fingers go in 'n out." Your face heats up with embarrassment at his words, but you comply as your move the phone to rest in between your thighs. You continue your previous minstrations, using two fingers to prod at your wet hole. You swirl your fingers, gathering your juices before plunging your fingers into your pussy. "Ha-!" You let out a high-pitched moan as your fingers travel deeper and deeper, slowly alleviating the aching in your stomach. "Oh, fuck. Just like that, princess." You hear Bill moan, followed by increased noises of him sliding his hand up and down his impressive length. The fact that he was getting off to just the noises you made egged you on even further, using your fingers to try and navigate towards your g-spot. "Say my- shit- name, baby." Not wanting to dissapoint, you loudly mewl "Bill!" as your fingers find there way to your sweet spot, repeatedly brushing up against it. Bills moans gain in ther frequency and pitch, which you find hot. "Are you close? I bet you are. Come with me, princess." His words make you loudly moan, your second hand coming down to rub fast circles on your clit. You hear Bill let out a final grunt as he comes, "Oh fuck, Y/n!" Him moaning your name as he orgasms has your back arching off your bed, your fingers pinching at your clit. You fuck yourself onto your fingers hitting your g-spot, and your abdomen tensing before your juices spray onto your bedsheets. You're left a twitching mess as you chant his name like it's the only word you've ever been taught. You pull your hand away from your clit and your fingers out of your pussy, allowing your back to find a resting place on your bed again.
"You did so well for me, princess. Now that you're all nice and wet for me, why don't you come over and see how well you can take my cock?"
a/n: i hope u enjoyed! i haven't wrote in a couple months, so i might be a little rusty. if you have any ideas or prompts, feel free to send in a request! :)
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vampzxi · 1 year
Text
𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯
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preview: she hums as she pulls away, leaving a spit trail connected to her lips and your nipple. her mouth travels to your neck, and she nips at it, adding to the collection of purple marks that already stain your brown skin. her hands cup your tits as she kisses behind your ear, “fuck, you’re so perfect, y/n,” her breath tickles your ear, and you shiver, smiling at the sound of your name. “i need you to go in the room and lay down, pretty girl. can you do that for me?”
a/n: THANK FUCK this fic is finally finished it was kicking my ass so bad. very sorry for the wait, i had a bunch of shit going on at home and with my mental in general( a nigga was struggling☠️). i'm a little better now, but i'll probably be extending my break until a little after the 15th (a nigga is graduating!! :P). also this fic did not turn out the way i thought it was going to...who wrote this ? like hello ? also this is kinda unedited. if you see anything wonky, shh. i love u guyth. saur much. ok sorry for the long ass author's note, nobody reading allat.
word count: 7k+ (fics getting longer and longer..)
tags: LOTS of teasing, like i was pissing myself off writing this…riri plays too much, fingering, (semi) public sex, masturbation, voyeurism, phone sex?, dom!riri, sub!reader, slightly bratty!reader, avenger!riri, (slightly) cocky!riri, overstimulation, pussy eating, (slight) ropebunny!riri, crying, dacryphilia (listen…), face sitting (riri receiving), strap slanger!riri, degradation, humiliation, praise, video taping, there’s a plot if you squint, riri’s chain makes me hard, hair pulling, (slight) slapping, riri being a big softie at the end, umm probably more that i forgot. whoopsi!
dts!: @heejayy , @abenomeiiii , @playhousedistee , @cafehyunji , @amplifiedmoan @zayswriting , @vixentheplanet , @inmyheadimobsessed , @quintessencewrites , @marsolgy , @verachii , @saintwrld , @motheroffae , @dejaonline , @dominiquesheart , @izrinmabel1 , @mocha-aya , @shuriszn @yamsthoughts : i love you guys and every single interaction i have with you. u guys make me kick my feet so bad like...pls take care of yourselves. special dt to eden for giving me the idea to put raveena in here..love u fr.
taglist!: @because-were-pointless-ghosts , @yourfavdummy , @ihearttish , @biltongbite , @vspletitia3 , @sookiesookie , @letitiaslabyrinth , @iotusroses , @ppawmpkin , @prettymrswright , @somethingcleaverandwhitty , @icespiceluva , @sapphicvqmpires , @puppykitt , @pinkwright divider by: @firefly-graphics (lmk if i forgot anyone! taglist request form is here!)
ok ENUFF w that... here you guys go! enjoy ;P
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“no goodbye kiss?” riri pretends to pout at you.
“you can kiss my ass on the way out,” you grumble, slamming the door, “get the fuck out my car.”
you walk over to the trunk and grab her luggage as she steps out of your car. “baby, what i do?” she yells over the airplane taking off.
you scoff, rolling your eyes, “you kept teasing me on the way here. you know ion like that shit,” you say, handing over her luggage.
she smiles and reaches out, "aw baby, don’t be like that. it’s so easy to get you worked up, it’s cute. come here.”
you roll your eyes again and embrace her tight, letting her firm arms squeeze your torso, “i’m tired of your ass.”
she presses a quick kiss on your forehead, “i love you too,” she rests her head on yours, “it’s only for a weekend.”
you groan, “i’m sure the Avengers will be fine without ironheart.”
“and i’m sure you’ll be aight without riri,” she pulls away and looks at you smirking, “you miss me already, huh?” you gasp as riri pushes you against the car, her playful eyes lingering on your lips.
“ri, don’t start-” she presses her mouth against yours, and a quick moan slips from you. you feel riri grin against you as she hears you, deepening the kiss. as her tongue slithers into your mouth, chills travel down your spine despite the humid air. the knot in your stomach tightens.
she lightly bites your bottom lip as she slowly breaks the kiss, her eyes never leaving yours, “riri…” you sigh, her lips traveling to your neck.
“‘sup, ma?” she nips at your neck, sucking the dark skin hard enough to leave a mark. the pet name makes your knees buckle as you lean against the car. riri’s calloused hands slide up your shirt and rub your sides as you gasp lightly.
“there’s people…,” you tuck a moan into your lip as she bites at your collarbone, “you’re gonna miss your flight-fuck,” she slips her hand down your waistband, grabbing a handful of your ass.
“i embarrass you, ma?” she inquires, her voice muffled by the skin in her mouth as she presses her teeth into it. your entire body heats up as she looks at you, expectant.
“no..i just-riri!” your words die in your throat with a whimper as she pushes her fingers against your damp panties, laughing at how you squirm under her.
“she’s so wet for me, haven’t even touched her yet,” she runs her finger up your slit as you hold back a moan, “she’s begging me to taste her, yeah? what you think, mama?”
you nod quickly as she continues to rub you through your underwear, whining every time her finger passes over your clit. “really? i can’t tell, she aint loud enough for me.”
“riri please…” you make eye contact with a man struggling with his luggage, and you quickly divert your attention, your face turning hot.
“i should eat her right in front of the airport,” riri uses her free hand to caress your cheek, and you lean into it as she applies more pressure to your clit, “let everyone know who she belongs to. let everyone know how needy she is. she’d like that, huh?”
“fuck, riri,” you moan. you’re grateful for the sound of airplanes passing overhead, because if not for them, surely the entire parking lot would have known riri’s name. “i don’t care, baby, please. i’ll make a big mess for you right here and let you do whatever you want. just..please, riri. i need you.” the band in your stomach tightens as you listen to her giggle.
“louder, baby.”
“FUCK, RIRI, PLEASE,” you grind on her fingers as they move along your underwear, ignoring the curious glances of passerbys.
she kisses you tenderly, making you melt under her lips. “hmm..what i tell you?” she murmurs into your mouth, “too damn easy.” she slides her hand out of your pants and pops her fingers into her mouth, swirling them around. “make sure you pick me up at 6 on monday, aight, ma?” the sight makes your pussy throb, but you just scoff as you watch, frustration overtaking your arousal.
“nah,” you push yourself off the car, fuming, “you got legs, nigga. you can walk.” she opens her mouth but you cut her off, pushing your finger into her chest, “matter of fact, use that fucking suit you always messing with. figure it out.”
your jabs do nothing but amuse her as she watches you climb back into the car. “so…no goodbye kiss?”
you shut the door and roll the window down, glaring at riri. truth was, you really did want to kiss her. but your frustration barred you from even thinking about it. “text me when your plane lands.”
“yes ma’am,” she sighs. she kisses her two fingers and places them against your temple. you watch her walk away with her luggage and so desperately want her to turn around. to turn around and yell “fuck the Avengers!!” and hop back into the passenger seat and kiss you until the windows fog. but she doesn’t. you sigh and shove the keys into the ignition and turn your music to 100, pulling out of the parking lot.
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you open the door to your shared apartment, cringing at the silence. normally, ri would have her tunes playing, usually switching between Tyler, the Creator, Kehlani, Chief Keef, or Lauryn Hill. her inconsistent music taste always made your head spin, but now you yearn for it. if it wasn’t music, then she was sprawled on the bed, begging you to play just “one match” against her in Mortal Kombat or Smash Bros., knowing she would whoop your ass. you always gave in anyways, just to see the satisfaction on her face.
you drag yourself into your room and plop into bed, opening your phone. you haven’t checked it since you left the airport, too frustrated to even peek. you scroll through riri’s texts, your guilt building with every missed message you read.
you shoot her a quick “made it home, love you too,” and throw your phone into your pillows, groaning. she’s been edging you all day, building you up just to stop you from finishing. when you asked her why, she simply giggled and said, “to give you something to look forward to when i come back.” oh she pisses you off.
your mind wanders back to the airport. riri’s voice bounces around in your head, “it’s so easy to get you worked up,” and irritation builds in your gut. you think about the way her hands fit perfectly around your ass as she gripped it, her dull nails digging into your soft skin. you think about the way her fingers curled in you as you surrendered to her touch. you replay the moment in your mind, biting your lip. you embrace the familiar tug in your stomach, recalling the way riri’s fingers grazed you. your face turns hot as you clench your thighs together, breathing heavily.
you peel your jeans off and toss them in the corner. your hand slithers down to your wet front and you sigh as your clit finally gets the pressure it’s been waiting so patiently for. your fingers trace your slit through your wet underwear, your pussy begging for the release riri’s been denying you. her laugh echoes in the back of your mind as you push your panties aside, your arousal sticking to the fabric. you smirk, recalling how her breathing faltered when you would whine in her ear, the sound of your voice spurring her on.
you grab your phone and go back to riri’s messages, your fingers pressing the voice memo option before you can even think about it. as your phone starts recording, you slip your middle and ring fingers inside of you, moaning at how easily they slide in. you close your eyes and think back to riri, the thought of her listening to your moans sending shivers down your spine. you feel yourself getting wetter as you imagine riri's rough hands and tongue exploring every inch of you, imagining her whispers trailing up your spine, her mouth leaving marks on your neck. you drag your fingers in and out, the messy noises of your cunt filling the room. “fuck,” you groan into your mic as you curl your fingers into your g-spot. your hips buck under your hand as you pump them inside of you, dropping the phone on your chest. your other hand travels to your clit, pressing your fingers against the swollen bud. your back arches from the pressure, and another quick moan is stolen from your lips. you feel your body getting warmer as you get louder, giving in to the pleasure that's building up inside of you.
“riri…i’m so close,” you slip another finger in, whining as you speed up. you trace circles into your clit as groans tumble out of your mouth, rising in octaves. tears blur your vision as you near your edge, forcing yourself to go further. your gasps become shorter and quicker as you push yourself to your orgasm, “fuck, baby, i’m gonna cum! i’m cumming,” your head swims as your walls clench around your fingers, whining.
your eyes roll to the back of your head as you release onto your fingers, the white liquid gushing onto your sheets. you slide your fingers out as your chest heaves. you bite your lip as you press send on the audio message, smirking. you don’t know when she’ll listen to it, but you know the thought of you touching yourself when she isn’t here will send her into hysterics. and you giggle at the thought.
you pick up your phone again and open the camera, flipping it so your face fills the frame. you look crazed, with your curls sticking to your forehead and your brown eyes dilated. you smile and press record, dragging your fingers into your dripping cunt again. you moan at the sensation, your jaw hanging open as you push your digits into your overstimulated pussy. you stare into the camera and bring your wet fingers to your mouth, wrapping your tongue around them. you lick your cum off of your fingers, grinning into your phone, “was that loud enough for you, mama?” you suck your fingers and swallow the last of it, winking into the camera. you stop the video and press send, watching until it says delivered.
you toss your phone onto the bed and step into the bathroom to clean yourself up. after a quick shower, you throw on one of riri’s shirts and step out and pick up your phone again, checking your messages. your stomach twists as you see 3 dots in the corner of your screen, indicating that riri was typing. you hop onto the bed again, grinning hard enough to make your face ache. your head spins as you anticipate her response. you can’t contain the giggles spilling out of you as you imagine her reaction to the attachments, but that smile quickly drops when the dots fade away. you blink at your screen, waiting for them to reappear. after 5 minutes of nothing, you groan and shut your phone off, burying your face into your hands.
irritation creeps up your spine as you stare at your phone. was she really icing you out? whatever. you didn’t care. or she was probably busy at work, actively saving people, instead of listening to her girlfriend fuck herself. duty calls or whatever. your mind races through explanations so fast that your head starts to hurt.
you sigh and stretch across your bed, sleep creeping its way behind your eyelids. your finger hovers over the call button, contemplating. her contact image smiles back at you, squeezing your heart a bit as you remember her in her first ironheart suit, where she was too excited to even sit still. you took the picture before she successfully completed her first test flight, her eagerness evident on her face.
you sigh and decide against calling her, figuring she was busy. thinking it’ll be better to wait til the morning. surely she was too preoccupied to even pick up. you roll over, burying your face into riri’s pillow, letting her scent trace the inside of your nose. you inhale the cocoa butter smell, letting it lull you to sleep.
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bang!
you shoot up, sleep clouding your mind as you rub your eyes. you fumble for your phone and wince when the light hits your eyes. 3:17am. “hello?” you call out into the darkness, fidgeting with your hair. silence answers you, making you bite your lip. you slide out of bed and tiptoe to your closet, grabbing the vibranium gauntlet that riri somehow managed to swipe from shuri. you laughed at her when she told you to keep it, but now you’re silently thanking her as you creep into the living room. you slip the gauntlet onto your wrist, holding it out in front of you as you feel the faint hum of the vibranium travel up your arm.
you notice the door hanging ajar, and you stiffen, gripping the glove tighter. “i…i have a weapon!” you squeak out, heart racing, “wakandan, too! you don’t wanna fuck with me!”
a soft chuckle emanates from the couch, and you whip your head around, using the soft blue glow of the gauntlet to guide you. you point it to the figure shrouded in darkness that was sitting comfortably on your couch. “last warning,” you keep your distance from the figure, but you know the power of the gauntlet will reach them in seconds.
“babygirl, put that shit down before you hurt yourself,” her voice makes your blood run cold, but you also basked in the relief she bought, “you know you clumsy.”
“shit, riri what the fuck?” you turn off the gauntlet and throw your hands into the air, “i thought i was bout to end up on a fucking true crime podcast. what the hell are you doing here?”
“uh, i live here?” you roll your eyes as you reach for the light switch, flipping it on. the sight of her manspreading on your couch made your knees weaker. her red hoodie and matching sweatpants did nothing to help. “i figured i’d swing by ‘cause you missed me so much.”
you laugh, taking the glove off and setting it on the kitchen counter, “sure. what happened to being an Avenger? don’t you have babies to save, or whatever they do?”
she sighs and stands up, taking two swift steps to you. her R-chain glints in your eye as she stares down at you, smirking, “i’m sure the Avengers will be fine without ironheart,” you smile as she shoots your words back at you, “you’re so damn needy, couldn’t leave you alone for long.”
she reaches out and wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you towards her. your cheek rests against her shoulder as you murmur, “i’m not needy.”
“you ain’t?” she reaches into her pocket, pulling her phone out, “you sure?”
you scoff and nod, “yo ass just wanted an excuse to come see me,” you pull away, “hold on, how’d you even get here?”
riri opens her phone, scrolling, “flew in that fucking suit you were talking about earlier…here it is,” she looks at you, her face unreadable, “ain’t this yo needy ass?”
you stare at her, puzzled, until the sounds reach your ears. amidst the panic of thinking there was an intruder in your home, you completely forgot what you had sent to riri. it all comes crashing back to you as your sultry moans emit from her phone, making your face hot. the noises of you playing with your wet cunt filled the room, your heavy breathing getting louder with each push of your fingers. “riri…i’m so close..” you hang your head, but riri grips your neck, forcing you to look at her.
“you was so vocal earlier…what happened, ma?” she turns up the volume, letting your voice echo through the living room. the splashing noises of you fucking yourself grow louder, along with your whines, as your gasps come through the mic. you press your thighs together, attempting to hide the arousal sliding down them.
the sounds end as you finish, and she shoves her phone back into her pocket, never breaking eye contact with you. her eyes boring into yours made you shiver, a smile playing on her plump lips. her hand tightens around your throat, and a moan slips from your mouth, “there it is.” her hand travels down to your underwear, prodding your clothed slit, “she’s so wet and i aint even touch her.”
your legs buckle as riri pushes against your clit, amusing herself with the way you lean into her. “fuck, ri,” you widen the gap in your legs, giving more access to your leaking cunt.
“hm?” she pulls her hand away, “what you want, ma?”
you’re too pent-up to put up a fight. you sigh into her shoulder, mumbling, “i want you, ri.”
riri’s hand returns to your underwear as she prods at your bud once more, making you whine into her ear. her jaw clenches as your whimpers fill her head, wanting nothing more than to see you crying under her as she sluts you out. but you had to earn it.
“use your words, mama,” riri moves your panties aside, sliding a singular digit into you with ease. your grip on her arm tightens as she slowly pumps her finger in and out of you, her brown eyes staring into yours.
“shit,” you tremble under her, “riri no more teasing, please. i need you to make me feel good. put me in my place. make me your bitch-i’ll take anything you give me, baby,” you throw your head back as she slips another finger in, her slow pace making your mind foggy, “fuck me, riri.”
“you gon’ be a good girl and make a mess for me, baby?” she quickens her pace, making it hard for you to keep your balance, “you gon’ let me tear this pussy up?”
you frantically nod, listening to riri play with your arousal. her eyes light up at the sight of her fingers disappearing into you, entranced by the sounds of your squelching pussy. “i’m your good girl, ri. i’ll do anything you tell me.” your walls clench around her fingers, eliciting a low groan from the back of her throat. the sound makes you quiver, hungry for more.
riri’s boxers are beyond damp as she listens to you. “so messy for me,” she kisses your head as she pulls her fingers out and you gasp at the absence of her digits inside you, “do me a favor, baby, and i promise i’ll give you what you want.”
you whine as she steps away from you and you stumble slightly, “you promise?”
“yeah, baby, i promise,” you smile as she cups your face and kisses you gently, her breath tickling your upper lip. your tongue runs across her bottom lip and she grins against you. riri speaks in between kisses,“i need these,” she tugs at your underwear, “gone. and this?” she pulls at the shirt hanging from your body, “never wanna see it again.”
you giggle, rocking on your heels, “but this is your shirt.”
“i’ll be ight. it looks better on the floor anyways,” she watches as you slowly pull the shirt over your head, her eyes fixed on your erect nipples. she resists the urge to step forward and squeeze and lick at the brown buds, but she reminds herself to wait.
you toss the shirt onto the floor, and your panties are next. the fabric is borderline glued to your wet cunt as you peel them off and toss them in the same corner as your shirt. you look back at riri, curling into yourself as she stares at you. it’s been around a year since y’all got together, but her gaze still makes you nervous. you cross your arms over your chest, suddenly self-conscious.
“nah, baby, let me see you,” riri steps forward and moves your arms to your sides. her eyes fall to your chest again, and your breath falters as she reaches forward and envelops your nipple in her warm mouth. she groans under you as her other hand reaches up to fondle your other boob. you bite back a moan as you grip her braids, watching the way she kisses your chest.
“oooh! shit, ri,” she smirks as she bites on your nipple, making you wince. her wet tongue rubs over it, chasing away the sting she left.
she hums as she pulls away, leaving a spit trail connected to her lips and your nipple. her mouth travels to your neck, and she nips at it, adding to the collection of purple marks that already stain your brown skin. her hands cup your tits as she kisses behind your ear, “fuck, you’re so perfect, y/n,” her breath tickles your ear, and you shiver, smiling at the sound of your name. “i need you to go in the room and lay down, pretty girl. can you do that for me?”
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“fuck you, ri” you gasp as you throw your head back and clench your thighs, the incessant buzzing between your legs driving you to tears.
as soon as ri stepped into the room, wearing nothing but her boxers, her R-chain, and a shit-eating grin, you knew she wasn’t done teasing you. “i’m making you work for this shit, you think i flew all the way down here just to give in to yo needy ass?” she chuckled, “you got me fucked up. hands above your head.”
“say that shit again, ma. i might just consider letting you go,” she uses her vibrator to apply more pressure to your clit, making your back arch off the bed. your hands squirm against your restraints as you cry out.
riri’s eyes are glued to your bloodshot ones, grinning so hard, you’re wondering how her damn face doesn’t hurt. “ri..fuck,” you pant, your sweat-slicked chest heaving, “i can’t. i’m gonna cum-ah!”
riri uses her free hand to slip 3 fingers into your puffy pussy, pumping at a rapid pace, “you can. and you won’t,” your overstimulated cunt clenches around her as she circles your sensitive clit with the vibrator, “not until you apologize.” a whimper tumbles out of your mouth as you buck your sore hips.
your eyes roll as another jolt of pleasure courses through you, making your stomach tighten. you grit your teeth in frustration as she bites at your trembling thighs, the stinging bringing you closer to your edge, “i..fuck!” you crane your head down, making eye contact with the grinning girl as her fingers continue to pound into you, “haah..kiss my ass.”
you smile weakly to yourself as you watch irritation cross riri’s face, “aight, bet,” she laughs, slowing her pace. you smirk as she pulls her fingers out, praying she’ll finally end the assault on your clit. but your prayers go unanswered as she increases the speed of the vibrator, making you flinch.
your voice cracks as she slips her fingers back into you, this time adding an extra one. she moans at the sound of you, relishing the way you crumble under her, “yeah, you was so big and bad earlier. what happened?” she curls her fingers into your sweet spot, and you can feel your orgasm starting to leak onto riri’s fingers.
“i’m sorry!” you wail, spit forming in the corners of your mouth, “ri, baby, i’m sorry! please, please, let me cum. i can’t hold it anymore.” hot tears cloud your vision.
“huh?” riri’s digits twist inside you, making your back arch once more. you wish your hands were free so you could smush that stupid ass grin off her face, “ian hear you, baby.”
“i’m sorry! i’m so sorry,” you start to babble, rutting your hips against riri, “i won’t do it again. i’ll be good. i was being needy because i missed you!”
riri’s fingers slow as she looks at you, “who’s my bratty girl?”
“i am,” you huff, the buzzing of the toy slowly creeping through your entire body.
“who’s pussy is this?”
“it’s yours, ri!”
riri hums and removes her fingers and the vibrator, making you sigh in relief. her lips gravitate to your swollen bud like a magnet, kissing it softly. “good shit, baby. let it out for me,” her tongue dances between your folds, “flood my shit.”
“fuck, i’m cumming, ri!” you squirm against your restraints and moan as riri’s fingers dig into your thighs, stopping them from closing as she licks you up.
her tongue grazes your clit and you squirt on her without warning, fat tears rolling down your face as your orgasm splashes onto riri. she opens her mouth, not letting a single drop go to waste. your arms burn from the strain of them hanging pathetically over your head as you struggle against them, watching riri continue to suck on your overstimulated cunt. “ri, baby-shit. i came, i came!”
“yeah.” riri mumbles into you as she sticks her tongue into your entrance, slurping you up. she eats you like your pussy is a drug, never stopping to come up for air. your legs twitch uncontrollably as she moans into you, the vibrations going straight to your core. she reaches up and tweaks one of your nipples, making your eyes cross.
your safeword is resting just behind your lips, ready to tumble out of your mouth, when riri presses one final kiss against your entrance and pulls away. “such a pretty pussy,” she coos, eyes locked on the wet spot on the bed, “could eat her all day.” your chest heaves as you struggle to catch your breath, and your cunt throbs as you watch her suck the rest of your release from her fingers, her chain winking at you in the dim lighting as she sits up.
“let me go?” you mumble, head swimming. she finally looks back at you, taking in your blissed-out state. she smiles and kisses you deeply as you moan into her mouth.
“where you at, mama?” she looks down at you, concern swimming in her eyes, “just say the word, and i’ll run you a bath.”
while you would appreciate the warm water soothing the welts riri left behind, you also can’t get enough. you shake your head, “i..want more,” you look at her, a lazy smile playing on your lips, “wanna taste you,” you watch her bite her lip as she listens to you, “please, riri.”
riri rubs circles on your stomach, pecking your temple and humming, “you think you deserve it? have you been good?”
you nod quickly, “did so good for you…” she leans over you and reaches for the rope around your wrists, her low-hanging necklace brushing against your face.
as your arms are released, she gently takes your wrists and kisses them, alleviating the burn of your restraints. you sigh as you relax into riri, wrapping your arms around her. “thank you for being such a good girl baby,” she kisses you again, “you gonna let me sit on your pretty face?”
her words send shivers down your spine, and you whimper as you nod. “tell me how bad you want it,” she rubs her hands over your thighs, coaxing the plea out of you.
“please…riri. i wanna taste you so bad, i want you to smother me, i want your pretty pussy on my face. make a mess in my mouth and ruin me,” you babble desperately.
riri swallows a moan as she listens to you, trying to keep herself from becoming undone with just your words. “shit, ma. you got me so wet,” she admits, “you wanna see?”
she grins as you rapidly nod, giggling at your eagerness. her finger traces your belly button as she leans closer to your ear, her breath making your body quiver, “lay on your back for me, baby.”
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“just sit down, ri,” you coo, her thighs straddling your face as her glistening pussy hovers above you, “please, mama.”
“say ahh for me,” riri’s voice barely registers to you, as you’re too focused on the line of arousal slowly trailing from her cunt, your breath catching in your chest as you suppress yet another needy whine. your attention snaps back to riri as she pops your thigh, the sting making you suck your teeth, “open your fucking mouth. you ain’t have a problem keeping it wide open earlier.”
“shut the hell up and sit down,” you mutter impatiently.
“i don’t know who the hell you think you talk-shit“ riri’s cut short by you as you push down on her waist, letting her drenched pussy fall into your mouth. an abrupt moan escapes her as your nose brushes her clit.
“shit, baby, right there,” riri throws her head back as you suck on her folds, savoring the way your tongue fits perfectly in her. she tastes better than anything you’ve ever eaten, like nectar to a bee. ambrosia to a goddess. she writhes above you as you lap her up, eyes rolling to the back of your head. your grip on her thighs tighten as her hips rock, letting her cunt slide across your face as she hums, “you like this, don’t you? needy slut.”
you dig your fingernails into riri’s thighs, leaving small, crescent-shaped marks as her insult sends a shudder down your spine. you look up at her, watching how her face contorts as your lips wrap around her swollen bud. her jaw hangs open as she continues to ride your face, her chain swinging with each rut of her hips.
“fuck, i’m bout to..” riri tries to bite back a whimper, but your ears catch it. you slide your tongue into her, drawing out a long moan from the prodigy on top of you. her thighs tremble as she grabs fistfuls of your curls, grinding her hot cunt further into your mouth.
“you gon let me flood your pretty face, baby?” riri smiles as you hum your confirmation, the vibration of your voice making her head spin, “let me cum in that dirty mouth, yeah?”
you look up at riri as you press sloppy kisses onto her pussy, relishing the way she bounces on your face. “fuck, baby. feels so good..shit!” her back arches as you gather her clit in your mouth once more, sucking on it, “im cumming! im-“
riri’s hands fly to her tits as she gropes them, riding her orgasm out on your face. you moan as you watch, maintaining eye contact with her as she creams in your mouth, the thick liquid coating your throat. her legs twitch as you continue to lick her clean, your tongue traveling over her folds. “aight, baby, i’m done, i’m done, fuck!” she cries out as you release your grip on her thighs.
riri lifts off of you and plops onto the bed, chest heaving, “how i taste, ma?”
you roll over and press a long kiss onto riri’s lips, hands trailing down her body. she moans into your mouth, wrapping her arms around you to pull you closer. her tongue slips into your past your lips, swirling around your mouth. you push your hips into her, your throbbing clit brushing against her leg.
riri grins against your mouth before rolling on top of you and bringing her knee up to your cunt, “you want me to keep going?” she laughs as you nod vigorously, “needy ass.”
she slides off the bed and walks into the shared closet, disappearing for a bit. you sit up as you watch her walk back to the bed with her most prized possession.
“where’d you get that one from, ri?” you watch as she steps into the harness of her strap, staring curiously at the purple-veined appendage.
“don’t worry bout it,” riri fastens the strap to her and looks up at you, mischief dancing in her eyes, “hand me my phone.”
you knit your brows in confusion as you reach for her long forgotten hoodie and fish out her phone from the pocket. you toss it to her, “for what?”
“you’ll see,” she smirks at you, “you already know what position i like you in. bend over.”
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your eyes screw shut as riri aligns the strap with your hole, the tip brushing against your overstimulated clit.
“ri…please,” you mumble, squirming against the rope tied across your wrists once more. she uses one hand to dig her nails into your hip while she uses the other to stroke the tip between your folds.
“please what, baby?” riri coos, her voice dripping with disdain, “ask the camera. you had no problem doing it earlier.”
you shut your eyes tighter, mortification burning through your cheeks. riri had propped her phone up on the pillows in front of you after tying your hands behind you, letting them sit snugly on your lower back.
your eyes shoot open as riri’s hand slams down on your ass and you wince from the impact. “i know you heard me,” she grabs a handful of your curls and tugs at them, forcing you to stare straight at yourself in her phone camera, taking in your pathetic state. eyes puffy, tears staining your cheeks, your messy hair sticking up in various directions. riri takes pride in knowing she’s the cause of your current state.
her cold chain drags against your burning back as she leans over to whisper in your ear, “don’t act brand new. tell them how bad you want me to fuck your pretty brains out.”
panic seizes your chest as you crane your head away from the camera to look at riri, “‘them’? you’re gonna show this to people? what the fuck, ri?” you splutter.
“nah, i bet you would like that though, huh?” she chuckles, “wanna show everyone how much of a needy whore you are? want them to see how pretty you look when i fill you up?”
she turns your head back to her phone as you whine, feeling the familiar knot in your stomach. “ri…”
your whimper makes her laugh, “speak up, babygirl.”
the way your nickname rolls off her tongue pushes you to the edge, “SHIT, ri. just fuck me, please. i want you inside me, fuck me stupid. i wanna feel y-“
your words die at your lips as riri rams into you, the tip of the strap brushing against your cervix. “you talk too much,” riri mutters as you cry out. you can’t form a coherent response as she continues to thrust into you at rapid speeds, her groans making you clench around the faux dick buried in you. “she’s so fucking tight for me..god.”
“you..you can feel me?” you struggle against your restraints and wince as the rope digs into your skin.
“yeah…was working on it before…fuck, mama keep squeezing my shit just like that!” riri gasps as she digs into your g-spot.
“YES, riri, right there,” you watch your body in the camera, shaking from the impact of her thrusts, “i can’t…hold it” tears swim in your vision, and you fight against them, “please let me cum..oh fuck!” you choke out a sob as her hand slithers to your neck and her fingers tighten around your throat.
“hold that shit,” ri’s says through gritted teeth as her pace becomes sloppy. your pulsating cunt continues to constrict around her, causing her to emit a low groan, “you look so pretty when you’re full of dick.” the corner of her mouth quirks up into a smirk as she listens to your whimpers, “now tell the camera how good i feel.”
“please, ri,” you whine. she tightens her grip around your throat as a warning, and you involuntarily moan. “shit, riri fucks me so good. she makes my pussy feel so good!”
“yeah, good shit, baby.” riri’s hips kiss yours as she continues to slam into you, her dick burying into your core. you feel your orgasm approaching, the familiar tug in your stomach becoming stronger with each push into your puffy pussy. riri bites her bottom lip as your walls tighten around her, making her eyes roll to the ceiling, “can i fill this you up, mama? you gon let me cum in this pretty pussy?”
riri knocks into your g-spot and you finally let your tears fall as you moan, “YES, riri. please fill me up. flood my shit, baby!” your voice cracks as you yell, desperately wanting to break free of the rope binding your wrists.
“oh my god..are you fucking crying?” riri looks at your wet cheeks and scrunched face as she pumps into you. she removes her hand from your neck and grips your curls, turning your tear-soaked face around to look at her. she leans forward and presses her tongue flat against your cheek, letting the salty fluid settle on her tastebuds as she moans. “you see how lame you look? you’re so goddamn needy,” she smirks, dragging her tongue across your cheek, “i knew i couldn’t leave you alone for long.”
“ri…i’m so close-please,” you blubber, “been so good..for you.”
riri resumes her rapid pace and you chomp down on your bottom lip. “yeah? who’s the only one that makes you feel this good?”
“you, riri, only you!” your eyes cross as her palm smacks your ass, with riri fascinated by the way it jiggles.
“who’s pussy is this?” riri’s chest heaves, her pounding becoming erratic. her orgasm is quickly approaching, but she wants to watch you become undone first.
you scream in response, your back arching as you squirt onto riri. your release splashes on her as you moan, throwing your head into the sheets. “shit, baby, im..fuck, i’m about to cum!” riri groans, digging her fingernails into your hips, “ke-keep squeezing me like that. wanna feel your pretty pussy.”
“fill me up, ma,” you plead, throwing your ass back on the Avenger, “please, baby! wanna feel yo-”
“shut up!” riri says with a snarl as she shoves her fingers in your mouth, making you clench as she gags you. riri moans, throwing her head back as she drills her strap deeper into you, “fuck, baby. just like that! i’m…i’m bout to..”
your eyes roll to the back of your head as her seed shoots into your cunt, relishing the warmth that fills you. you bite down on her fingers and moan in sync with her, relaxing your body.
as she pulls out of you, her creamy release pours out of you, dripping onto the sheets. you collapse onto the bed, breathing heavily as your eyes flutter closed. riri chuckles and steps peels the strap off, tossing it into a forgotten corner of the room. she rubs small circles into your back and places her lips on yours, kissing you deeply. “you did so good for me, my beautiful girl,” you smile at the compliment, feeling her scatter sweet kisses across your face.
“can you walk, baby?” she asks softly, starting to untie the rope at your hands. you don’t even have the energy to talk, much less stand. riri understands your silence and let’s out a soft laugh, rubbing your wrists and easing the ache that your restraints left behind.
“i’m gonna run you a bath, then i’ll be right back,” you nod drowsily as she presses another kiss to your temple and walks to the bathroom, humming. you envy her endurance, the way she’s able to bounce back after leaving you strewn out across the bed. you turn your head, watching the muscles in riri’s back shift with each step. riri disappears into the bathroom and you let the sound of running water lull you to sleep.
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“you never answered my question,” you say as riri plays in your wet curls as your back lays against her chest. you’re positioned between her legs in the tub, letting the smell of the floral bubble bath and the sound of Raveena’s Still Dreaming surround you as you lean into her touch.
“you ask a lot of questions, baby,” riri chuckles and slides her hands to your thighs and starts to rub them. you relax into her, relishing the sensation of her fingers kneading into your soft skin.
you roll your eyes as she massages your legs, “okay, yeah, but you never told me where you got that strap from,” you huff, “like what was that?”
riri’s hands falter slightly at your question, but she catches herself and resumes rubbing your thighs. you pretend not to notice. “it, uh..” she sighs, “don’t laugh.”
“why would i laugh?” you scoff, turning your head to look at her.
“cause yo ass always giggling about something,” ri swats at you, and you smile, “don’t try and hold it back now. look at you, always ready to laugh at someone.”
“just answer the question, ri,” you say impatiently. riri sighs and moves her hands to your shoulders, gripping them firmly.
you sigh and melt into her touch as she rubs circles into your shoulders, “it’s just a project i’ve been working on for a minute,” riri’s hands glide down your back as she rubs your sides, “it started as a joke, but when i met you...i guess i actually had a reason to finish it.”
you bite back a giddy giggle as you turn around in riri’s lap, looking at her. she stares back at you, her eyes gleaming. your chest grows warm as you watch her smile, her perfect set of teeth on full display. “i told you not to laugh,” she pushes a curl from your head.
“i know, i’m sorry, baby,” you plant a kiss onto her forehead, “you’re just so fucking smart, like damn. how’d you even come up with that?”
riri’s eyes widen at the compliment as her grin grows wider. you know how self-critical she is towards herself, so watching her become undone with a simple compliment makes you melt. “thank you, mama,” she reaches up and grips your chin, her wet palm pulling you towards her lips. she kisses you fondly, relishing the way your arms wrap around her waist. the music and the smells fade around you as you get lost in riri’s touch, committing the way she tastes to your memory.
you shiver under her and riri breaks the kiss, leaving your lips cold. you pout at her and lean in for another one, missing her warmth. but she softly pushes you away, “the water’s getting cold, baby,” she smiles, “come on,” she motions for you to get out of her lap.
you climb out of the tub as she lets the water out, watching the bubbles disappear down the drain. you turn around, and riri startles you by wrapping you in a towel and throwing you over her shoulder. you shriek, swinging your feet and laughing, “ri!!”
laughing, she flips you onto the bed and kisses you, intertwining her fingers with yours. you giggle into her mouth and throw the blanket over your naked bodies.
riri groans as her phone starts to ring, breaking the kiss. “hold on, baby, i think that’s work.” you roll your eyes and huff as she reaches over to grab her phone, putting it on speaker. “yeah?”
“riri, where the hell have you been?” smooth xhosa comes from the other side of the line, “you left without saying anything…again.”
“hey, shuri,” riri runs her hands through her braids, “i uh…” she looks at you smirk, “family emergency?”
“i didn’t get this primitive device just for you to lie in my face,” shuri sighs, “hi, y/n.”
your eyes widen as riri rolls hers, “she ain’t even here, you trippin.”
“hi,” you say, giggling when riri scowls at you.
“right. anyways,” you can practically hear shuri’s eye-roll through the screen, “fury’s pissed and he has kamala and me out looking for you. i’ve been trying to cover for your ass but we need you. kamala’s getting annoying.”
“yeah. i’ll be there tomorrow,” riri ignores you when you swat at her arm, frowning, “tell fury i’m busy. ion even need to be there, for real, but aight.”
“yeah, okay,” shuri sighs, “he’s gonna chew you out for missing patrols again.”
“man, ion give a fuck,” riri laughs, “but i’ll hit you back later?”
“yeah. bye, riri. bye, y/n. don’t keep her up too late.” before you can object, shuri hangs up the phone.
“‘be back tomorrow?’” you cross your arms and pout, your frown growing deeper as riri laughs.
“baby, i’ll be back the night after,” riri scoots closer to you and spoons you, letting your hair tickle her nose, “and then no more trips for the rest of the year, unless it’s with you.”
“good.” you smile, relaxing into her arms.
“so fucking needy,” she whispers, laughing and kissing your cheek.
you both drift off to sleep together, with riri snoring softly. riri ended up oversleeping, causing her phone to constantly go off with calls from nick fury, shuri, and even kamala. both of you were oblivious, too busy snoozing in each other’s arms.
⭐️
my masterlist!
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