#i don’t have the post on hand but send me an ask with a number and i’ll post my according wrapped song :) as is tradition
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to nobody’s surprise
#once again lust for a vampyr just about misses the top 5 list. SAD!#i don’t have the post on hand but send me an ask with a number and i’ll post my according wrapped song :) as is tradition
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I'm late, I'm sorry, but here's the full fic from this WIP post yesterday!
[CW: bullying, references to canon racism and violence, mentions of recreational drug use]
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Steve makes it to the bathroom down the hall from the shop classroom—the one that’s far from the cafeteria and always empty during lunch, where people really only come to smoke, anyway—before he completely loses his shit.
“Son of a bitch!” He’s almost screaming as he hauls off and punches the wall of one of the bathroom stalls, putting every ounce of anger and frustration and humiliation into it, hitting it so hard that the whole construction rattles.
“Motherfucker,” he hisses, shaking his hand out, because it had hurt, and then he winds up to do it again, to make it hurt more, because at least he’s in control of that much, at least it’s anything but what he’s feeling right now.
“That’s a good way to break your hand, y’know,” a voice comes from the doorway, startling Steve into pivoting and aiming his fist at whoever is coming after him now.
He stops short when he sees nobody but Eddie goddamn Munson standing there, cringing into a startled flinch to protect his head as Steve nearly swings at him.
“Jesus shit,” Steve barks, dropping his fist and stepping back, shaky with adrenaline. “You walk like a fucking ghost, Munson.”
Munson peeks out of his defensive crouch before straightening up and sending a meaningful glance at the stall wall. “Somehow, I don’t think you would’ve heard me even if I was making all the noise in the world.”
Steve shrugs, his shoulders staying up near his ears in a defensive slouch. He can feel something dropping out of his hair and down the side of his face, and he feels the humiliation all over again as he tries to swipe it away.
“What do you want?” he asks, beyond caring if he sounds rude; he thinks he’s entitled, considering.
This time, Munson shrugs, a rolling, casual thing that belies the sharp look in his eyes. “Came to see if you were okay, I guess.”
Steve snorts. Is he okay?
Like, in the grand scheme of things, the answer is a really shaky “maybe.” But lately? It’s more of a resounding “no, not fucking really.”
Aside from everything else – aside from the nightmares, aside from the headaches, aside from the fact he’d had to drop basketball after his concussion, aside from having no real friends or allies at school now that he and Nancy aren’t together – aside from all that, there’s Billy fucking Hargrove.
Hargrove, who had taken all of a month to start pushing Steve’s buttons again. Who had taken less than a few days after that to realize that Steve wasn’t going to push back.
And then he’d started looking for the boundary line, pushing and pushing, shoulder-checking Steve in the hall, tripping him in the single class they share, knocking shit out of his hands, shoving him when his back is turned, all the while spitting names and insults, until it had culminated into today’s fiasco: dumping a carton of chocolate milk over the top of Steve’s head in the middle of the cafeteria with a deeply unconvincing “oops.”
It had gone dead silent, every eye in the room on Steve’s red face and Hargrove’s triumphant grin, while Steve had only been able to stand there, shaking with startled rage as milk had sluiced out of his hair and seeped into his collar and down the back of his shirt, knowing that he couldn’t retaliate.
He couldn’t.
He’d marched out of the cafeteria, shame and anger growing as voices had bloomed up behind him, already gossiping and speculating.
So, no, actually, he’s not really okay.
But instead of saying any of this to Munson, he just scoffs and turns away, looking towards the sinks.
“Wouldn’t have expected you to care,” he says, injecting as much lazy indifference into his voice as he can, trying to armor up the way he used to. “The number of speeches you’ve given about how much me and my group suck, I’d have figured you’d be the first to say I deserved it.”
Munson doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Steve doesn’t look back to see if the barb landed. He doesn’t really care, he just wants the guy to go away so Steve can finish his meltdown and clean up in peace.
“Not your group anymore, though,” Munson finally says.
Steve shrugs, pulling a wad of paper towels from the dispenser; might as well move on to cleanup if Munson isn’t going to fuck off. He guesses his little breakdown can wait until he gets home.
“Hasn’t been for over a year, now, right?” Munson goes on. Steve says nothing, using a dry paper towel to try to blot up the mess. “And whatever you were like then, you’re… less like that now. Like, anyone paying attention can see you’re kinda trying something new this year.”
Steve ignores the way that makes something catch in his throat. “Thanks for the endorsement,” he drawls. “I’ll put it on my college apps: Not as much of an asshole as I used to be.”
“It’s a start,” Munson says, and Steve glances up in time to see him shrug in the mirror.
“I guess,” Steve mutters.
“And, uh – hey, I grabbed your stuff,” Munson says, holding up the binder and notebooks that Steve’s attention had glossed over until now. “Some of it’s kinda… milky, sorry.”
Steve blinks. “Uh. Thank you,” he says, stunned for a moment into sincerity.
Munson shrugs again, putting Steve’s stuff up on the narrow shelf on the wall that no one ever uses to hold things because it’s probably never been cleaned. Not like Steve’s stuff is clean now, anyway.
Steve turns back to the sink, wetting a few of the paper towels and waiting to see if Munson is going to leave now.
“What I can’t figure out–” nope, apparently he’s staying, “–is why you’re in here punching the wall, instead of out there, punching Hargrove.”
At least that makes more sense; he’s here out of curiosity, not concern.
“I mean, most people would’ve hit him for that,” Munson goes on. “I would’ve.”
But Steve’s already shaking his head before Munson’s finished speaking. “Not worth it,” he says firmly.
“What, afraid of a little suspension?” Munson asks, almost teasing. “Pretty sure the school would let their golden boy off with a slap on the wrist.”
“Not anybody’s golden boy anymore,” Steve snaps, scrubbing a wet paper towel through his hair in a vain attempt to get some of the rapidly-drying milk out. “I dropped basketball, remember? Didn’t even go in for swimming this year.”
“Oh, yeah,” Munson says, like he’d genuinely forgotten. “Sorry, not really into the whole… sports scene. Like, at all.”
Steve shrugs. “Whatever. Not important. I don’t give a shit about being suspended. I don’t even care if he hits me back. Not like I need another knock to the head at this point, but – whatever.” Steve shakes his head. “It’s just that he could– there are other things he could do.”
In the mirror, Munson’s eyebrows go up. “What, does he have blackmail on you or some shit?”
Steve raises his brows right back. “If he did, do you really think I’d tell you?”
Munson tips his head to the side. “Yeah, okay, fair enough.”
“Anyway, he doesn’t have blackmail, he has… leverage, I guess.” Steve lets out a harsh sigh and gives up on his hair for now, wetting a paper towel to try to get some of the milk off his face and neck, instead.
“…are you allowed to tell me what that is?” Munson asks after a moment.
And for a moment, Steve thinks about it. The only people in school who really know are Nancy and Jonathan, and he’s asked them to follow his lead in just – not talking about it. He hasn’t told anybody any version of what happened in the Byers’ house, or why Billy seems to have made him his personal stress ball. But who the hell would Munson tell? All his nerdy friends in his game club?
(No, no, that’s not fair. Steve doesn’t even know those people, and he’s trying not to be that guy anymore. He doesn’t have to be nice, but he shouldn’t be unkind.)
(The point stands, though – who would Munson even tell?)
“Do you know why Hargrove beat my face in back in November?” Steve finally asks, avoiding Munson’s eyes in the mirror by focusing very hard on getting the tacky milk off his hairline.
“Well, I’ve heard most of the rumors by now, I think. Heard Hargrove’s version of events, as has pretty much everyone, I’m sure. Haven’t heard yours, though,” Munson says, his voice tilting up in interest. “I just figured it was because he hated you.”
Steve lets out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, you’re not wrong. But also…” He pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “There are these kids I babysit. Sort of.”
“Sort of?” Munson presses.
“Well, most of the time it feels like they’re just ordering me around like a bunch of entitled shitheads. But I make sure they get where they’re going without, like, disappearing, and that they don’t have so much unsupervised time that they manage to get themselves killed,” Steve admits.
“Uh huh,” Munson says; he sounds… a little confused, but not disbelieving. “And you ended up with this gig, how?”
“It’s Nancy’s little brother, and his little nerd friends,” Steve says (he’s allowed to call them nerds because he knows them, and it’s true. And besides, it’s affectionate).
“Aaand you’re still doing it now? Even though you and Wheeler aren’t…”
Steve shrugs. “They grew on me. But that’s– that’s not the point. One of the kids is, uh. Hargrove’s stepsister. And the night me and Hargrove got into it, I guess she wasn’t supposed to be out.”
“Ah,” Munson says.
“Yeah.” Steve sighs, giving up on the milk as a bad job; he probably should’ve run off to the gym showers instead of a shitty bathroom. He turns and leans back against the sink, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at the floor near Munson’s scuffed sneakers. “So he came looking for her.”
“So… Not that I’m advocating handing over children to pieces of shit like him, but – like, wouldn’t it have been the technically correct thing to do, to send her home with what is legally a family member?” Munson asks.
Steve passes a hand over his face. “She was terrified,” he says quietly, feeling a little like he’s betraying Max’s trust by saying it out loud, by saying it to a stranger. “She was terrified of what he would do if he found her there, where she wasn’t supposed to be. Terrified of what he would do to one of the other kids if he caught them together, since he’d specifically warned her to stay away from him.”
“What’s wrong with this other kid?” Munson asks, brows furrowed.
“Nothing,” Steve bites out. “He’s smart, and he’s brave, and he’s, like, slightly less of an asshole than some of the others, but what Hargrove cared about is that he’s black.”
“You’re fucking kidding me,” Munson snaps, and Steve’s hackles raise, ready to defend his kid all over again if he has to, but before he can get anything else out, Munson goes on. “We already knew he was a racist piece of shit, but – a fucking kid?”
Steve subsides. “Yeah. A fucking kid. So I told them all to stay inside and I went out to try to head him off. Or at least keep him out of the house. Which, obviously, I failed at.” He lets out a derisive little laugh, aimed solely at himself. “He knocked me on my ass, knocked the wind out of me, got past me– and by the time I was able to get up, he was already– he was inside, and he had that kid by the collar, up against the wall– one of my fucking kids–” Steve breaks off, the same rage and terror from that night choking up in his throat again. After the day he’s had, his emotions are all too close to the surface, too near to bubbling out, and he rubs at his nose, trying to stave off the angry, exhausted tears he can feel pricking at the corners of his eyes. “So I decked him.”
“Good!” Munson exclaims, and for a moment Steve actually manages a real smile.
“Yeah,” he says. “Then he hit me back, which, like, obviously. I was expecting him to, but– I mean, I might’ve actually won that fight if the fucker hadn’t hit me in the head with a plate.”
The expression that crosses Munson’s face is almost comically shocked. “What?”
“Yeah,” Steve says again, running a hand over his jaw, thumbing almost unconsciously at the still-fading scar where the porcelain had sliced him open. “I’m a little fuzzy on shit after that. Like, I remember being on the floor, and him kneeling over me, and hitting me, and hitting me, and then– I dunno, nothing.”
Distantly, Steve realizes that the expression on Munson’s face has turned from ‘comically shocked’ to ‘mildly horrified,’ but he’s a little too lost in the blurry memory of that night to do much about it.
“Holy shit, how are you not dead?” Munson blurts out.
He looks like he immediately regrets asking, but Steve finds he’s actually grateful for the question. He’s glad to move the conversation along.
“Max.” He smirks over at Eddie. “Hargrove’s stepsister. I guess she, uh– threatened him with a baseball bat? Saved my ass.”
That’s a deep over-simplification, but Steve can’t think of a way to explain the presence of heavy sedatives in the Byers’ house, and, anyway, she had threatened him with a baseball bat. The kids had all taken great joy in reenacting the way Max had nearly neutered Hargrove with the nailbat, actually; it’s almost like Steve had been there (and conscious).
“Holy shit,” Munson says, and whichever part he’s referring to, Steve is inclined to agree.
“Yep. So I was out fucking cold at the time, but the kids all insist that she got him to agree to leave her and her friends alone, but…” Steve shakes his head. “Hargrove is a fucking psychopath. I don’t trust him to keep that promise. So, at least if he’s focused on me, he might leave her alone. But if I hit back…”
“You think he’ll retaliate by going after one of your kids,” Munson says, only a hint of teasing in his words at the end.
“I know he will,” Steve says; Hargrove had implied as much more than once. He crosses his arms back over his chest. “And they are my kids.”
Munson throws his hands up, as if in surrender, but he’s definitely smiling now.
“I’m serious,” Steve insists, close to smiling himself. “They think I’m stuck with them, but they’re the ones stuck with me.”
“Lucky them,” Munson says, and– what?
“What?” Steve asks.
“Look, you’re either a better actor than, like, everyone in the drama club, or you at least seriously believe what you told me, which is more than I can say for Hargrove and whatever shit he came up with about the two of you getting into it over… what, his car was better than yours? He’s better at laundry ball? I don’t fucking remember, and it doesn’t really matter, because it was clearly and pathetically fabricated,” Munson says with an authoritative nod. “You, at the very least, really give a shit about those kids. So, yeah. Lucky them.”
“Well,” Steve scrambles for a moment, trying to cover the way he actually feels like he might start fucking blushing, “if I’d known all I had to do to change your mind about me was tell you about a fight I lost, I’d have done it ages ago.”
And now Munson’s back to smirking at him. “Seeking my esteem that badly, Harrington?”
“What? No. I mean – not– not specifically yours, it’s just… like, there’s not really an easy or fast way to make up for being kind of a dick for the last… while.” Steve runs his hand through his hair, stopping with a grimace when he remembers the drying milk. “You just have to keep not being a dick and hope people give you a chance. So, like, compared to that, convincing you was easy.”
“And all you had to do was get a severe concussion first,” Munson drawls.
Steve rolls his eyes. “I didn’t say it was severe.”
“You got hit with a plate,” Munson deadpans, and Steve can’t quite help the resulting flinch, at which Munson almost immediately softens. “Sorry.”
Steve shakes his head. “It’s fine.”
Mouth screwed to the side, Munson eyes Steve for a moment, glancing over his shirt and up to his face before gesturing at him. “You want some help with that?”
Steve blinks at him. “What?”
“Your whole… hair situation. You could bend ov– like, you could lean over the sink and I could, uh. Try to rinse it for you. Or whatever,” Munson offers, awkward but apparently sincere.
It sounds like a stupid as hell way to try to rinse his hair. The sinks are small, and not exactly high off the ground; Steve would have better luck just going to the locker room and showering it all out. His soap is there, too, and an extra shirt.
On the other hand, Steve really doesn’t feel like leaving the bathroom yet. He’s pretty sure lunch is going to end soon, and encountering everyone during passing period sounds like a nightmare. In here, with Munson, it’s quiet. It feels almost safe.
“Yeah, sure,” Steve finally says, and Munson looks nearly shocked that he’s accepted.
Credit to him, though: he doesn’t back out. He just slides his jacket off, tosses it up over the wall of one of the bathroom stalls, rolls up his sleeves, and gestures for Steve to lean over the sink.
“Hot or cold?” he asks, going for the taps.
“Hot,” Steve answers immediately; he doesn’t need any other cold liquid on his head today.
“Hm.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” Munson says airily, turning on the water. “You just kinda strike me as a cold shower guy. Like, up at dawn, go for a run, take a cold shower – all that weird jock shit.”
It isn’t intended to mock, Steve realizes as Munson tests the water temperature—the school pipes take forever to heat up—but to tease. It’s a joke, and Steve is invited in on it. And anyway, it’s… actually kind of close to the mark, so Steve doesn’t say anything at all for a moment as he puts his head as close to the faucet as he can get it and Munson places one cupped hand over the back of his neck and uses the other to scoop water over Steve’s hair.
“Cold water is better for your hair. Not that you’d know anything about that.” Steve finally says, hoping that his own teasing tone carries even with the way he has to raise his voice to be heard over the running water.
Luckily, Munson sounds amused when he answers. “Oh! Shots fucking fired. I see how it is!” Even as he’s pretending at being offended, his fingers stay gentle against Steve’s scalp as he tries to scrub out the dried mess, and Steve fights very, very hard not to shudder.
He can’t remember when the last time someone touched him with gentle intent was. Maybe he’d gotten a hug from Dustin last week?
Shit, that’s fucking pathetic.
He tries even harder not to lean into the touch, into the surprisingly kind hands on the back of his neck and on his scalp, tries hard not to act like some kind of touch-starved weirdo and make Munson regret offering to help.
The irony of the fact that Steve is trying not to act like a freak in front of Eddie Munson is not lost on him.
After another couple of minutes of Munson manipulating Steve’s head this way and that, doing his best to be thorough, he lets Steve go entirely and shuts the water off.
“That’s probably as good as I’m gonna be able to get it,” he says, pushing another handful of paper towels at Steve as he stands up.
“Better than I could’ve done here,” Steve says with a shrug, rubbing the paper towels over his hair and grimacing as he can feel it frizzing in about a hundred different directions.
When he finishes, he turns to look in the mirror, watching in real time as it droops over his forehead and tickles at his wet shirt collar. Munson stands next to him, watching without judgement, but with what feels like an inappropriate amount of fascination.
“Well, I’m not going to lie to you,” Munson says at last, “you look a little like a sad, wet dog.”
Steve’s eyes snap to Munson with a glare. “Gee, thanks.”
“Some people are into that!” Munson insists, holding his hands up placatingly. “That droopy aesthetic, with the big, brown puppy eyes. Someone might just wanna scoop you up and take you home to take care of you. It’s a thing.”
Do you want to? – the question comes immediately and unbidden to Steve’s head, and he quickly shakes it away. They might be on amiable terms right now, teasing each other a little, but he isn’t sure that wouldn’t be a bridge too far.
(He isn’t even sure it is teasing. For a moment, he’d had the genuine urge to ask.)
“Anyway, I think most of the mess is out of your hair, but I’m pretty sure your shirt is toast,” Munson goes on, gesturing to the brown stain around the collar, over one shoulder, and probably down the back.
If he’d been wearing a darker color today, it might’ve been alright, but of course today he’d chosen light blue. Steve sighs, plucking at the front of the shirt. If he can’t salvage it, he might as well ditch it; it’s getting uncomfortably stiff and tacky with the dried milk, and he’d honestly rather stick it out in his undershirt for as long as it takes him to get to the locker room than walk around with evidence of Hargrove’s little stunt all over him.
He untucks the shirt and yanks it over his head, no need to be careful of his hair, emerging from the depths of it to find Munson staring at him in a stunned sort of silence.
“What?” Steve asks. “If it’s wrecked, anyway, I might as well get rid of it. I’ve got a spare shirt in my gym locker I can go grab.”
Munson blinks at him, almost like he’s trying to clear his head. “Or!” he practically shouts – possibly louder than he meant to, since he continues more quietly, “Or, you could just ditch for the rest of the day. I mean, you have any particularly interesting classes after lunch you feel the need to attend?”
“Not really,” Steve admits with a huff of a laugh. “But leaving after that feels a little like– letting Hargrove win. Like I’m retreating or some shit.”
“Nah, don’t think of it like that.” Munson tosses an arm over Steve shoulders, waving his other in front of both of them, like he’s trying to show Steve a grand vision and they aren’t both just staring at the ugly tile on the bathroom wall. “Think of it as cutting class and getting free weed from Hawkins High’s most esteemed dealer.”
Steve turns to look at Munson, staring at him more closely than he’s ever had reason to, and realizing there are tiny freckles on his face. “What, seriously?”
“Sure.” Munson shrugs. “Lemme smoke you out, Harrington. Seems like a good way to let your stress go for a bit – though I am just a little biased.”
“Why?” Steve asks; he doesn’t understand the sudden turn this day has taken, the sudden and bizarre kindness offered that he doesn’t even know what he’s done to deserve.
Munson’s eyes slide away from Steve, though his arm notably stays draped over his shoulders. “Been where you are. It’s not great. And, I mean, if it had happened last year, then, admittedly, I probably wouldn’t have given as much of a shit. Jock on jock violence, whatever. But you,” he glances back at Steve, “you’re genuinely trying to be, like, a good person. And I don’t think you should be punished for that. I think, in fact, that you could probably use a friend.”
“I…” The words stick in Steve’s throat, because what the hell can he even say to that? On anyone else, Steve would have assumed an ulterior motive, but Munson had infused it with so much awkward sincerity that Steve can’t help but realize it’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s said or offered to do for him in… he’s not even sure how long.
His silence must stretch on a little too long, though, because the hopeful light in Munson’s eyes fades a bit, and he begins to slide his arm off of Steve’s shoulder. “Or, y’know, you can tell me to fuck off, because I’m, like, way overstepping some boundaries, and–”
“We should go to my place,” Steve blurts, while grabbing Munson’s wrist for some insane reason.
“What?” Munson blinks over at him, (understandably) startled.
“My place. We should go there to smoke. If you still want to.” Steve could cringe for how stilted the whole thing is coming out. “I want to be able to take a real shower.”
Munson stares at him for a moment longer before laying a hand over his heart with a gasp, suddenly leaning heavily into Steve’s side and forcing Steve to wrap an arm around his waist so they don’t both lose their balance.
“I see how it is!” Munson gasps dramatically. “My sink shower just wasn’t good enough!”
Steve holds in a laugh. “Your sink shower was… fine. But I’ve got milk dried in other uncomfortable places, so unless you want to wash my back for me, too, we should go back to mine.”
Munson’s gaze snaps back to Steve, something a little odd in it, and – oh. Oh, that hadn’t sounded quite like Steve had meant it. It had sounded a little like an offer of the kind you don’t go around making to just anybody.
Steve braces himself, waiting for the reaction (he doubts if Munson would get any kind of physical, but there will probably be an awkward pulling away and sudden remembering of something he has to do literally anywhere else that afternoon), but all Munson does is break into a sly smile and say, “I could, but I’d have to charge you extra.”
Steve can’t help it: he laughs, giving Munson a good-natured shove, who finally releases Steve but doesn’t stumble more than a couple of steps away.
“Meet you at my place?” Steve offers, balling up his shirt and dropping it on top of his notebooks as he grabs them from the shelf. “Half an hour?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” Munson gives him a corny little salute before grabbing his jacket from over the stall wall and preceding Steve to the bathroom door.
“Munson,” Steve finds himself calling out, just as the other boy’s hand closes around the door handle; Munson glances back and Steve fights the urge to look away. “Uh. Thanks. For, like… yeah. Thanks.”
Whatever meaning Munson takes out of Steve’s absolutely eloquent verbal vomit of gratitude, it makes him smile. “No need for thanks, man,” he says. “I’m honestly a little surprised to say it, but the pleasure was definitely mine.”
And then he disappears out the door, leaving Steve in the bathroom wondering how the hell his day had taken this turn, and just what destination it’s leading him to.
And thinking that he’s honestly a little excited to find out.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things post s2 AU#stranger things#this one is a bit long just as a heads up; about 4.6k#is it good? I dunno but I had fun writing it and you guys seem interested so here we go!#eddiesteve#solar wrote
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It's a Match! || 141 x reader
[ Chapter 1 ] || [ Chapter 3 ]
Pairing: Soap x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader
Words: 1K~
cw: a bit of dirty talking/innuendos
Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?
Chapter 2: Johnny
“Oh, hello…” You remarked to yourself as your eyes locked into a stunning pair of blue eyes on your screen, stopping your mindless right-swipping. “...Johnny.”
“You’re 29… A soldier… Scottish… Are you friends with Kyle?” You mused playfully. “Let me guess, you’re a gym bro, aren’t you?” You asked sarcastically as you tapped your finger on the right side, skipping through his pictures. The first one immediately after was him lifting while wearing a weightlifting belt. “Yup… Mandatory gym pic.”
Chuckling to yourself, you snap a screenshot of his profile to the girls as well, sending it quick.
leah: @/mia Whatever good energy you sent its working. second hot guy in the last 5 minutes!
mia: i lit a CANDLE for this!!!!!
leah: there weren’t any handsome guys like this when i was on tinder?! 😫 UNFAIR. 🙄
you: blow it out then cause this is the 3rd actually.
leah: 3rd??? Where’s number 2???
you: didn’t think to snap a screenshot. hasn’t matched me back yet.
mia: has he posted a shirtless pic?
you: kyle did and this one idk but probably. need to check.
leah: Don’t forget to send it over.🥴
Shaking your head and laughing in amusement, you went back to Tinder, checking on ‘Johnny’. The mandatory gym pic was there… a couple of them in fact! And then the mandatory shirtless selfie. Or rather… The mandatory shirtless SELFIES. Plural.
Three of them… The first one was him just straight up wearing just a towel… And the next was him in a kilt… And the next was him with a button-up very much so unbuttoned.
“Oh, my, Johnny-John-John… You sure know how to woo a bird…” You joked to yourself.
You dragged your finger down to check his bio and immediately frowned. “Of course…” You trailed off with a disappointed frown as you snuck another spring roll into your mouth.
He might be stupidly attractive, but his personality… Gosh, he doesn’t know how to sell himself. Boring, boring, boring. “I work out and like video games!” You quipped mockingly and scoffed a bit.
“Artist.” You remarked when you reached the last of his profile’s tags, spotting that word in the hobby section. “An artist? You?” You asked your phone screen as if Johnny would come alive in it and answer you.
You’d admit, him calling himself an artist was intriguing enough, but normally that wouldn’t be enough to make you Swipe Right on him… But you’re not under normal circumstances. You promised your friends you’d Swipe Right on everyone so…
Your phone almost dropped out of your hand as soon as the ‘It’s a Match’ screen showed. “Of course… He’s probably swiping right on everyone as well…” Rolling your eyes, you go to click off the screen but accidentally enter DMs.
Johnny: ye have any scottish in you?
you: not that i know of.
Johnny: would ye like to? 🫦
Johnny: wait. wdym not that ye know of???
Johnny: i was trying to be filthy and now got me curious bonnie
“Fuckin’ hell…” You said as you set down your phone and covered your face before breaking into a fit of giggles.
The fact you had accidentally ruined his pick-up line and succeeded in stumping him got you very, very amused. Okay, maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as boring as you thought.
you: story for another time.
you: i walked right into that one tho. good job.
Johnny: no ye cant do that
Johnny: gotta tell me all about it now
you: i mean werent scottish people everywhere in the uk at one point?
you: i might be 1/370232103484320th scottish.
Johnny: would ye like some MORE scottish in ye then? 🫦
you: solid attempt again.
you: if you keep trying you might just get there.
Johnny: i intend to dont worry
you: soooo…
Johnny: so?
you: were you wearing underwear under the kilt?
Johnny: no
Johnny: why want a peek? 😏
you: i’m good
you: so ur an artist?
Johnny: i am
Johnny: ur fast at typing fuck
you: what kind?
you: keep up then!
Johnny: drawing
Johnny: im trying 🥴
you: can i see some?
Johnny: hanging with my mates difficult to text fast 😤
Johnny: idk if ull be in the mood to see anything after im done with ye
you: why? 🤨
Johnny: might be too tired and need to be cuddled to sleep 😏
you: oh fuck off.
Johnny: u just cursed me out
Johnny: i think m in love 😫
Johnny: gonna tell my mates i just met my spouse 🥴🥴
you: don’t give them any ideas.
you: haven’t even agreed to meet up with you.
you: haven’t been invited in the first place.
Johnny: meet up with me 🙏
Johnny: meet up with me 🙏
Johnny: meet up with me 🙏
Johnny: meet up with me 🙏
Johnny: meet up with me 🙏
Your eyes widened at his enthusiasm and persistence. Okay, he was definitely not boring… It was actually kind of endearing and funny!
you: jc r u copypasting that?
Johnny: yes
Johnny: are ye going to or not
you: can i get back to you on that?
Johnny: ill wait for ye
you: sure you do that johnny
Johnny: ow the sarcasm burns
Concealing a chuckle, you clicked off the DMs page for the second time tonight… but, this time, you closed the app and focused on eating dinner.
Sure, this whole dating app thing was stupid, but at least you were enjoying yourself.
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taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthoney , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe
#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic#cod modern warfare#cod fanfic#captain john price#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#text story#cod x reader#call of duty x reader#soap x reader#johnny soap mactavish#johnny soap mactavish x reader
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(A special post for my dear friend Cass @henderdads who is celebrating 10k followers 🫶💛 can’t wait to celebrate more milestones with you 🥳)
Eddie watches the follower count on the Corroded Coffin TikTok rise every time he refreshes their page as the rest of the band looks over his shoulder.
“I can’t believe your bat song is going to bring us to ten thousand followers. Considering it’s about-”
“Shut up,” Eddie cuts him off, refreshing the page again.
“Seriously though,” Grant says, pointing at the follower count, “We’re going to hit ten thousand pretty soon.”
“Which is a big milestone for us,” Jeff adds before circling in front of where everyone in staring at Eddie phone. “Shouldn’t we celebrate or something?”
All the boys pause for a moment, and Eddie can feel them all staring at him, waiting for some type of creative revelation as if he can just come up with something on the spot like... “I have an idea.”
Gareth and Grant high five as Eddie jumps up and points at Jeff. “Go get some lame confetti party poppers and a cheesy celebration cake.” He turns to Gareth and Grant and points at them. “You guys need to find out how to put our follower count on a laptop or something while I set up my room so we can do a livestream on Tiktok in there.”
“We’ve never done a livestream.”
“Exactly!” Eddie says clapping his hands excitedly, “That’s what will grab people’s attention and boost our follower count. We’ll tell them that follower ten thousand will get a special private video from us or something. I don’t know. Whatever they want!”
“What if they ask us to strip?” Grant asks.
Jeff sighs and puts a hand on his shoulder. “No one is going to ask you to strip, dude.”
“You never know!”
Eddie just laughs as he rushes off to his room.
“Wait!” Jeff yells after him.
Eddie pauses and turns around.
“What money am I using to by this stuff?”
Eddie sighs and digs his wallet out of his pocket, pulling out two twenties and handing them over. “If this doesn’t cover it, you’ve done something wrong.”
Jeff smiles widely before running out the door yelling, “I’m gonna spend all of it!”
Eddie doesn’t even care about his money going down the drain, he’s too excited about reaching ten thousand and being able to call Wayne about it. For now, it’s time to seriously do some work to his room in order to make it somewhat presentable…
-:-:-:-:-:-
Eddie adjusts the camera stand and the ring light he bought for their videos that he gets constantly made fun of for buying. But the guys can’t deny how much better their videos look, so he doesn’t want to hear it.
“Jeff, give me your phone.”
Jeff hands his phone over but whines, “Why my phone?”
“Because you have the best camera,” Eddie explains, setting it up and going to their tiktok page. The numbers are quickly climbing through the nine thousands, and at this rate, they’ll definitely hit 10k during the livestream.
Once everything is prepared, Eddie asks, “Ready?”
Everyone nods and Eddie starts the livestream. He waves at the camera and watches the view count grow quickly. “Oh wow. Hi everyone. We haven’t done this before, so sorry for anything weird that may happen or when Grant inevitably says something dumb.”
Eddie gets a smack on the back of the head as Grant says, “Hey!” Jeff and Gareth just look at each other knowingly and laugh.
Eddie half winces and smiles as he rubs the back of his head and reads the comments asking about the numbers on the computer. “Oh shit. Yeah! Oh wait, I don’t think I should’ve sworn. Oops. Uh, anyways!” He takes a deep breath and gestures to the computer screen. “So, this the whole reason for our livestream. We’re about to hit ten thousand followers-”
“Thanks to you guys!” Gareth interjects.
“Yes, thank you guys. Really. From the bottom of my heart. Thank you,” Eddie says sincerely, laying his hands over his heart. “And we thought that we’d do something special for our ten thousandth follower. Maybe send them a video of us doing a cover of their favorite song or something. We don’t know! Whoever it is, you get to choose.”
“But you can’t make us strip!” Grant yells.
Eddie runs a hand over his face before gesturing dramatically toward Grant. “And this is what I meant when I said Grant would inevitably say something dumb.”
Gareth and Jeff just laugh as Grant turns red. Eddie turns around and pats him on the shoulder. “You know we love you.”
“Yeah, because you would suck without me.”
Eddie turns around and looks at the camera. “That’s absolutely true.” He looks at the comments and notices people asking them questions about when they’re releasing another song and if they’re planning on touring anywhere soon.
Jeff leans over squinting and says, “Oh! Our next song is called Hellfire Rains!”
Gareth looks at him slowly and asks, “Dude, are we allowed to say that?”
Eddie puts his head in his hands. This is absolutely a disaster, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Eddie’s head pops back up. “We could do something even worse and give them a sample of it.”
He sees the comment section flood a bit with affirmations of YES PLEASE. I BEG OF YOU.
Eddie turns to the guys and shrugs. “Are you guys good if I play a weird acoustic version of it?”
All the guys shrug and nod until Jeff stops to say. “Wait, what if we hit ten thousand during that?”
“Then, you guys stop me and we look at the follower,” Eddie replies.
Jeff nods and says, “Okay, but what if I told you we’re only nine followers away from ten thousand?”
“What?!” The rest of the boys yell and turn to the computer, noticing the numbers going up.
Eddie scrambles to grab his phone and go to their page, refreshing their notifications to grab the name of the ten thousandth person. He quickly looks at the camera and says, “Okay guys, I’ll give you that cover after we hit this milestone and freak out.” He refreshes the page and grabs Gareth’s shoulder. “Wait, do you have the party poppers?”
“Shit!” He yells running to the plastic Walmart bag and digging through it, handing them to everyone.
“It’s about to happen guys!” Jeff yells.
Eddie’s heart thuds in his chest as he refreshes the page over and over.
“Holy shit!” Grant yells first as Gareth and Jeff yell to celebrate. Eddie glances at the screen showing 10,000 and laughs as everyone pulls their confetti party poppers. He turns back and refreshes the page.
He freezes.
“Eddie, man, who is the lucky person?” Jeff asks excitedly.
Eddie looks at them with wide eyes.
“What?” Gareth asks.
Eddie looks back at the name and presses on the profile, noticing their mutual followers confirming that it’s a legit account. “Oh my god.”
The guys all rush around his phone and stare at the page.
Gareth shrieks with laughter. “Holy shit! Steve Harrington? The same infamous Steve who your bat song is about?”
“The same infamous Steve who you had a horrible crush on in high school but could never get the courage to talk to him?” Jeff adds with a laugh.
“I talked to him once,” Eddie grumbles out running his hands over his face. This cannot be happening.
Gareth laughs loudly and says, “Let me recall it.” He turns to Jeff and acts like he gets flustered as he says, “Uh. Steve. Steve Harrington. You’re. Hi. Yeah. You. Uh. So Dustin and you. That’s cool. I. Well. Good seeing you!” Gareth then turns to run away quickly.
Jeff laughs loudly as Grant says, “Uh, guys?”
Eddie shakes his head as Gareth and Jeff ignore Grant to laugh about it until Grant yells, “Guys!”
They all look at him and notice him staring off. Eddie realizes that he’s staring at Jeff’s phone…which is still streaming.
They all seem to realize it at once and freak out. “Turn it off! Turn it off! End it!” Eddie yells as Grant drops the phone and Jeff scrambles to end the livestream.
They all pause and slowly look at Eddie who breathes out, “What are the chances that Steve wasn’t on that livestream and that everyone will forget about this?”
The rest of the boys slowly turn to look at each other with grim looks on their face.
“Oh no,” Eddie says burying his face in his hands. This is not going to be good.
-:-:-:-:-:-
Sure enough, the next day, there’s a viral TikTok going around of the movement that someone had screen recorded, and Eddie’s phone is spammed with texts from Dustin, annoyed at Eddie for never telling him about his pathetic crush on his babysitter.
Eddie ignores it and his friends attempt to drown out his sorrow with cake and platitudes of, “Hey, we’re actually gaining a lot of followers from this.”
Eddie just groans and buries his face in his bed. This cannot be happening.
“We did promise that we’d give our ten thousandth follower something special,” Jeff says. “So we still need to follow through with that.”
Eddie sighs, “I’m not going to message him.”
“Then I’m going to message him from our account and pretend to be you,” Jeff says.
As Gareth and Jeff encourage him, Eddie slowly sits up and says, “No. No. I’ll do it.” He begrudgingly reaches over and grabs his phone.
“And while you’re at it, people are complaining about you not doing that short cover so…” Gareth trails off as Eddie shoots him a glare.
“Okay, well we’re going to go pick up some food and give you some space so you don’t kill us,” Jeff says while grabbing Grant and Gareth and dragging them away.
“Thank you!” Eddie yells after them.
“But you’re not getting food unless you’ve sent him a message!” Jeff yells before closing the front door.
Eddie sighs and takes a deep breath before he glances at this phone, ignoring all the text notifications from Dustin, but he becomes curious about the text from a number he doesn’t have saved. He clicks on it.
As your 10,000th follower, do I still get to request something?
This is Steve Harrington by the way
Eddie nearly throws his phone but swipes to Dustin’s texts instead typing out, YOU GAVE STEVE MY NUMBER????
He scrolls through the dozens of texts, noticing a sequence of important texts he missed.
can i give steve your number? he’s asking me for it
eddie i swear he’s not mad or anything
okay i can’t promise that but it didn’t sound like he was mad
eddieeeee
eddie stop ignoring me
if you don’t respond im going to send your number
okay
im sending it
if anything happens i expect to be the first to know!!! don’t make me find out from a tiktok ever again
Eddie takes a deep breath and reasons that at least now he knows the number is legitimate. He opens the texts from Steve and stares at them. There’s no way he can text him.
And for some reason, he immediately decides to call him with is arguably a thousand times worse, but before he can hang up, Steve already answers with a, “Hello?”
Eddie swallows and tries to remember how to speak. “Hi,” he croaks out before clearing his throat and trying again, “Shit. Hi.”
“Hi,” Steve says, sounding amused.
Eddie sighs and lays back on his bed. “So, what are the chances that you weren’t on the live stream and you didn’t see that video?”
“Zero.”
Eddie groans. “I’m so sorry. I haven’t checked TikTok yet, but have people found you and flooded your notifications?”
“Uh…” Steve trails off, sounding hesitant to answer.
“I’ll take that as a yes. God, I’m so stupid. I just completely forgot the livestream was going or I never would’ve dragged you into this mess.”
Steve pauses and asks, “And what if I told you that I’m glad you forgot it was still on?”
Eddie sits up. “What?”
“What if…” Steve pauses and Eddie hears rustling on his end as if he’s anxiously twisting around. “What if I told you that I know what I want as your ten thousandth follower.”
“To punch me?”
Steve laughs, and Eddie tries as hard as he can not to latch onto the noise. “To ask you on a date.”
Eddie freezes in shock. Yeah, this isn’t happening.
“Eddie? Are you still there?”
“Yup, still here,” Eddie manages to breathe out. He pauses before asking, “You’re serious?”
“Yeah,” Steve replies, “I kind of had a big crush on you in high school, too. And I may have redownloaded TikTok when I heard about your live stream.”
“No way,” Eddie calls him out.
“Yes way. You should ask my best friend Robin. She saw the live stream and timed the follow perfectly for me. Plus, she’s suffered through my crush on you and has always been mad at me for never doing anything about it.”
Eddie can’t believe it. “Steve, can you FaceTime me right now?”
“Uh, sure. Yeah.”
Eddie clicks on the FaceTime button and waits until Steve’s face appears on the screen, further confirming it’s him and further freaking him out. Gosh, he hasn’t seen him in a while and he’s almost forgotten how gorgeous he is.
“Hey,” Steve says with a smile.
Eddie wants to melt into a pile of goo. “Hi.” He pauses for a second, getting a bit lost in seeing Steve’s smiling face on his phone. Then he remembers, “Oh! Okay, tell me again. But look me in the eye so I know you’re not lying.”
Steve chuckles and asks, “Eddie Munson, my secret high school crush, will you go on a date with me and fulfill the promise you made to all your followers?”
Eddie smiles and says, “Yes.”
-:-:-:-:-:-
A few days later, Eddie posts an update on the Corroded Coffin TikTok with a video of him singing a sneak peak of their new song then glancing off camera to ask, “Does my ten thousandth follower like it?”
Off camera, there’s a voice that sounds exasperated as they say, “How many times are you going to call me that instead of your boyfriend?”
Eddie puts his guitar down and rushes off camera quickly with a smile, but then the voice asks, “Did you end the video?”
Eddie pauses before saying, “No.”
“This is going to be a lasting issue isn’t it?”
“Maybe,” Eddie confesses.
Then, the mystery man appears in the shot, revealing Steve’s smiling face before he ends the video.
Once again, the video ends up going viral, and soon enough, Eddie is celebrating 50k with all the band members along with Steve (and Dustin who is very mad to find out about their relationship via the second TikTok). But he wouldn’t have it any other way.
#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#steddie ficlet#corroded coffin#jeff stranger things#gareth emerson#gareth stranger things#unnamed freak stranger things#aka Grant
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My void sucess story
HII TIA!!! I can barely contain my excitement as I type this but I got into the void and manifesting my dream life. You @gorgeouslypink and @charmedreincarnation are my absolutely favorite blogs, and I couldn’t have done it without y’all. I think charm and pink are on break so I’m gonna send this to you I hope that’s okay.
Quick backstory: I’ve been in this community since the OGs, angel, Cleo, maya etc. I’ve seen all the dumb drama, the liars, the successful people, the exposing, and etc. I’m just sharing this because people think having bad experiences can hinder you from getting your desires and I’m here to remind you nope that it can’t. Nothing can. I had a phase where I would ugly cry trying to make sure all the success stories are true….I became a cop and started looking for inconsistencies on pages and liars to help me feel better. Which it didnt, It drove me mad, and I lost faith.
Until… I read pink’s doubt post which was God sent. Her entire page is God sent tbh and I recommend it to everyone. After I felt better and realized outside of tumblr people have gotten into the void, I decided I’m gonna be the next success story. So I went on your lovely page because I don’t think there isn’t a method you haven’t talked about.
You’re so educated and conduct amazing research on everything, we truly don’t deserve you Tia. Thank you for all your hard work. Anyways I was feeling good! I had so many methods to choose from, I felt like a fat kid at a candy store. And I decided my logical brain needed a logical method so I went with lucid dreaming.
This is where charm comes in. I read her lucid dreaming guide and it is literally also God sent so thank you so much for that. She had a method I had never heard of called SSILD, and even made a post about that as well… like I felt like the universe was handing me everything on a silver platter. And I saw another post that her and pink talked about using a reclining chair. So I combined SSILD with that method to make an ultimate one. And on the second day of trying I entered a lucid dream, asked a dream character to take me to the void and then manifested my dream life.
What I manifested: my dream house, dream family, dream body and face, dream amount of money, money always coming to my family and I’s bank account out of nowhere (but it’s natural and normal ) socialite Status, 25k insta followers (my lucky number) famous loyal dream athletics boyfriend (I was so scared this wouldn’t work but it did!), master manifesting abilities, dream college acceptance, (future) good self concept, a great fashion taste, never gaining weight, clear glass skin, revising my abusive past, and so much more. My list was like a whole ass essay, I obviously can’t list everything but my life is perfect now.
This was last week and I immediately booked a trip to LA with my family to look at the USC campus because that’s where I want to go and where I will go next fall, (I’m a senior). I was also looking at apartments around my school and I found my dream one so I’m manifesting no one leases it 🤭
Quick note: a lot of my desires were weird or I wanted them to manifest a specific way, or they weren’t realistic to happen immediately so I was afraid it wouldn’t work out the way I envisioned. Not only did everything work out the way I envisioned but it worked out even better and exactly how I would want them to apply to life but in a realistic way. So if that’s something you worry about don’t worry, you are God, and it will work out perfectly.
Anyways, I just wanted to share this because I failed for a while and everyone on this app was so supportive. Tumblr is genuinely like a little magical family so now everyone will see my succeed… though this on anon mode bc people have been attacking success stories lately. And honestly it doesn’t matter bc I just want to live my new spoiled life but I want to express my gratitude because my life was in shambles and you three helped me so much. So thank you again and I hope everyone who read this. No, I know everyone who reads this will get what they deserve.
HII LOVE!! WOW CONGRATULATIONS (⑅˶ᵔ ▿ ᵔ˶) ~♡
I'm very excited for you!!! And yes, void Tumblr has definitely changed rn and I feel there's many blogs on here that's good and no more liars. I'm so glad you gained faith back in the community and now you're living your dream life, love.
Aww pink and charm have the best posts on the void too <3.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Gorgeouslypink doubts post
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Charms lucid dreaming guide, SSILD method
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Gorgeouslypink recliner method
I LOVE YOUR MANIFESTATIONS AND EVERYTHING SOUNDS SO FUN OMGG!! LLYSM <33
#void state#void state success story#void state tips#manifestion#success story#loas tumblr#void success#law of assumption#the void state#neville goddard#lucid dreaming to enter the void state#lucid dreaming tips and methods#void method#void thoughts#ask answered#anon ask#void success stories#manifesting instantly#instant manifestation#manifest instantly
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the right wrong number
pairing: pre/no outbreak!joel miller x soccer coach!female reader
rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)
word count: 6k
summary:
When Joel receives a dirty text from an unknown number, he gives into his curiosity and messages back.
He doesn’t expect the number to belong to his daughter’s summer camp soccer coach.
dear reader:
this work is a request and a birthday gift for my sweet baby @mydailyhyperfixations , who’s been one of my biggest supporters since i started posting my work on tumblr. ily, and i hope you love the fic! special thanks to @cutesyscreenname for helping me with some lil details to finish this surprise. support and mdni banners by @saradika
content warnings:
explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), age difference (undefined, but references are made), pre/no outbreak!joel miller, identity porn, wrong number au, sexting, dom/sub dynamics, use of ‘sir’, pet names, praise, thigh riding, semi-public sexual activity, spanking, safe word discussion, dirty talk, p in v. let me know if i’ve missed any!
Unknown Number: I had a really good time at dinner tonight!
Joel stares at his phone in confusion. It’s past midnight and he’s been sitting on the couch nursing a beer and watching Indiana Jones. He’s been in the same spot since Sarah went to bed a couple hours ago. His phone beeps again.
Unknown Number: It’s too bad we didn’t have time to visit Noir.
Joel raises his eyebrows. Noir is a bar in downtown Austin known for its calendar of speciality kink events. He’s seen it come up in his Google searches of local bars and had considered going to an event or two but never worked up the courage. His kinks remain between him and his porn search history.
Unknown Number: Wanna see what you missed out on?
[Photo 01.jpg]
Curiosity gets the better of him and he clicks on the image attachment. He nearly drops his phone when a photo of a woman fills his screen, sweet curves hugged by black lace on white sheets. He should absolutely tell her that she has the wrong number. His fingers type across the screen.
Damn, seems a shame something that gorgeous is going to waste.
Unknown Number: Who says it has to go to waste?
Joel swallows nervously. He’s already hard in his jeans, cock pressing urgently against his pants. He palms himself, trying to collect his thoughts.
Unknown Number: I’m feeling a little needy over here.
[Photo 02.jpg]
Against his better judgment, Joel opens the second photo and has to bite back a groan at the image of the woman’s hand slipped beneath the waistband of the panties, fingers hidden from sight behind lace and silk.
You want me to tell you how to play with that pretty pussy?
Joel squeezes his eyes shut as he presses send. This is a colossally stupid idea. This is a stranger, and he’s not the intended recipient of these messages.
Unknown Number: I’d really like that, sir.
Fuck it, Joel thinks. In for a penny, in for a pound.
Start by circling those fingers over your clit. Nice and slow.
And when you feel like you could cum, I want you to go even slower.
Unknown Number: It’s too slow. I want more.
Be patient, baby. And aren’t you forgetting something?
Unknown Number: Sorry. I want more, SIR.
Joel presses a hand to the bulge in his jeans, the pressure offering little relief.
Now don’t start being a brat, sweetheart. You won’t like the result.
Unknown Number: Oh yeah? What would you even do?
I’d love nothing more than to bend you over the edge of the bed, ass ready to be spanked red.
Unknown Number: Fuck, that would feel so good. Bet your hands would feel amazing marking me up.
You still being a good girl and following my instructions?
Unknown Number: I think I forgot. Could you remind me, sir?
You’ll have to ask more nicely than that.
Unknown Number: Could you *please* remind me, sir?
Joel runs a hand over his beard before reaching for the forgotten beer on the coffee table and taking a swig.
You’re supposed to be teasing yourself for me. Nice and slow.
I want you to pinch your nipples until they’re nice and tight, too.
Unknown Number: Like this?
[Photo 03.jpg]
Joel bites his lip as he opens the third photo. You’ve got your bra pulled down to expose your nipples, hard and perfect and begging for his mouth. He unbuttons his jeans, tossing his phone on the couch only long enough to shimmy the denim down his thighs and free his leaking cock.
Just like that, baby. Such a good girl for me.
Unknown Number: Are you touching yourself, too, sir?
Of course I am, baby.
Unknown Number: Can I see, sir? Please?
Joel’s hand falters as alarm bells blare in his head. He should absolutely not open his camera. And he should definitely not find the perfect angle that doesn’t show his face. And he certainly should not grip his cock around the base, holding it steady as the shutter sounds and a new photo is saved to his camera roll.
No. He shouldn’t do any of that.
[Photo 04.jpg]
Unknown Number: God, your cock would feel so good in me right now.
Joel’s right hand moves at a steady pace up and down his length, left hand fumbling to type a reply.
Why don’t you fuck your little fingers and pretend it’s me, then?
Unknown Number: Won’t fill me up nearly as much, sir.
Be a good girl and follow my directions, baby.
Unknown Number: [Photo 05.jpg]
He opens the photo and his cock pulses in his fist. She has her underwear shoved to the side, two fingers plunged into her glistening pussy. His mind reels with an image of this faceless woman writhing on the bed reading his words, thinking about his cock stretching her open and he has to bite his lip to just keep the responding moan trapped in his throat.
Unknown Number: Can I cum, sir? Please?
Since you asked so nicely, yes. Make yourself cum for me, sweetheart.
Joel sets the phone aside on the couch, closing his eyes as he pumps himself with a tight fist while he imagines your desperate pussy clenching around your fingers. He cups his palm over the head of his cock as his release hits him like a freight train, hips flexing from the couch to chase the lingering sensations of ecstasy from his hand.
He stands, pulling his pants up without bothering to fasten them so that he can wash his hands in the kitchen sink. Guilt settles on his shoulders as he dries his hands with the dish towel while he stares at the couch where his phone is lit up with another message from a stranger he had no business seeing that much of.
He approaches the couch and sits with a sigh, running a hand over his face before picking his phone up to read her message:
Unknown Number: Easily my best orgasm. Hope it was for you, too. Don’t be a stranger xx
Feeling like an asshole, Joel deletes the thread and the wrong number for good, but it’s fine.
It’s not like he’ll ever meet her, anyways.
——————
You’re on the phone with your best friend, telling her about how the last guy you went out with about a week ago, a guy named Jeremy you met on a dating app, still hasn’t reached out to you again despite what you’d thought was a successful date.
“So he just never reached out to you after you sexted him all night?” She asks. “Men are so weird.”
You cradle the phone between your ear and shoulder as you zip up your duffel bag of equipment. It’s the beginning of June and the summer soccer intensive camp for junior league starts today. You’ve got a full registration for the girl’s 13-15 division and you’re excited to get back on the field and help these girls do their best in a sport you love.
“Nope. Maybe I came on too strong? I don’t know,” you reply.
“You did come strongly. At least, that’s what you told me,” she says with a laugh. “Well, that’s too bad. Maybe you’ll meet a hot dad coaching this year.”
You roll your eyes. “I’m not fucking someone’s dad.”
“Never say never, babe.”
“I gotta go find my damn cleats. I’ll talk to you later,” you tell her.
“Fine, I expect a full run down of every DILF you meet today.”
You hang up as she laughs, tossing your phone into your personal bag that you keep separate from the gear before you go in search of your cleats from your room.
——————
Joel and an over-excited Sarah sit in the parking lot of the soccer field that her summer camp is being conducted at, ridiculously early at Sarah’s insistence because she didn’t want to be late on the first day. They’re the only car in the parking lot so far, having apparently beat even the coach, and Joel sips at his travel mug of coffee in the hopes that it grants him energy.
Another car pulls up and parks beside his truck, loud music blaring from the open window. Sarah waves excitedly.
“That’s the coach,” she explains.
Joel watches you get out of your car and pop the trunk. You start pulling out bags of soccer balls and stacks of orange cones, bags of agility equipment and strength training aids. He opens the door to his truck and jogs over.
“Hey, you need any help with that?” He asks. You look over at him in surprise, eyes wide.
“Oh, uh, sure. That would be great,” you reply.
“I’m Joel Miller, and this is my daughter, Sarah,” he says, gesturing to the young girl. She gives a little wave and he extends a hand out to you.
You give him your name, shaking his outstretched hand. “Y’all are a little early,” you reply, hefting a bag over your shoulder.
“My dad’s always late but I didn’t want to be late for camp,” Sarah says. Joel narrows his eyes at her.
“Not a problem. You can help me set up the cones,” you tell her. His daughter gives you a bright smile and he almost forgives her for throwing him under the bus. “I’ll grab these two bags, you grab the cones, and Mr. Miller, could you grab the balls, please?”
Joel fights back his childish laughter at your request, grabbing the bags as instructed. “Just Joel, please.”
You smile at him and he feels a bit blindsided by how it makes his heart beat faster, his palms a little sweatier. You’re very pretty, fresh faced and ready for a day of work, wearing one of those quick dry workout shirts that clings to your curves and a pair of shorts that show off your strong legs. Some traitorous part of his brain wonders what it would feel like to have those legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer.
“Alright then, Just Joel. Let’s go.”
——————
“Thank you for the help,” you tell Sarah’s dad. You’re trying very hard not to let your eyes linger on the bulge of his biceps or the broad expanse of his back as he sets down the two bags of soccer balls and places his hands on his hips.
He’s a handsome man, older than you by at least a few years, with tan skin and dark hair and kind brown eyes that crinkle at the corners when he smiles at something Sarah says. His daughter has the same brown eyes and olive skin, her dark curly hair pulled into a bun.
Of course the first parent you meet this summer is a hot dad. It’s like you’ve spoken it into the universe.
“Not a problem. Glad I can be useful if I’m goin’ to be here this early,” he replies with a narrowed glance at Sarah, who is suddenly very interested in the stack of cones she carried to the field. “Anythin’ else you need me for?”
“Let me get you the game schedule and contact sheet.” You open your bag and pull out your folder of materials you like to give to parents, assembling a stack of papers for him. “On top you’ve got the emergency contacts sheet. Fill that out with your contact information and an alternate’s information, too, just in case I can’t reach you or someone else needs to pick Sarah up. You’ll want to have Sarah bring that back tomorrow.”
You flip the page. “The second page is just a welcome letter. It’s got my phone number on it, feel free to text or call if you have any questions or if Sarah can’t make it one day.”
“And then last we’ve got the camp schedule. The girls will have two tournament days where they’ll play against some nearby summer camp leagues. You can sign up to bring a snack by filling out the piece at the bottom. Do you have any questions?”
“I don’t suppose I do. You’re very organized,” he says, taking the packet from you. You can feel your cheeks heating.
“Thanks,” you murmur. “Well, I gotta finish setting up.”
“I won’t get in your way.” He calls out to Sarah and the young girl runs up to give him a hug goodbye. “Be good. I’ll see you later.”
——————
Joel Miller is the first at the field in the mornings helping you set up for the day and last parent to leave at pick-up, after he’s loaded your trunk up with the equipment, wiping the sweat from his brow as he grins at you.
His daughter is a great player, quick on her feet and smart as a whip, picking up the footwork skills you teach like they’re second nature. You’re telling Joel as much Friday afternoon in the second week of camp when Sarah bounds up and asks if you want to get ice cream with them.
“That’s a great idea, baby girl,” Joel says before you can decline. You blink at him and he gives you that lopsided grin that’s been giving you butterflies since the first day on the field. “But if you order mint chocolate chip, you’re buyin’ it yourself.”
“Good news, I’m a plain ol’ chocolate kinda gal,” you tell him with a laugh.
“Me, too!” Sarah says.
“I’ll follow you guys,” you suggest. Joel gives you a quick nod, herding Sarah into his truck and taking off toward town.
You follow them to a little ice cream parlor, the kind that sells old fashioned sundaes and thick milkshakes with red and white striped straws. You park beside them, watching as Sarah hops from the truck with a wide grin on her face and her dad comes around, slinging a strong arm over her shoulder and pulling her close. Your heart feels warm looking at them.
Once inside, Joel and Sarah end up ordering a sundae to split while you get a small cone of chocolate ice cream. You try to tell Joel not to pay for you, but he hits you with a look that has your mouth going dry, any argument disappearing as all your blood rushes south and makes you ache between your legs.
“I’ll go get us a table outside,” you offer, licking at your treat. You don’t miss the way Joel’s eyes track the path of your tongue.
You watch the busy foot traffic while you wait for the Millers to join you, the warm Texas air wrapped around you while you enjoy the slight breeze and your cold dessert.
A deep voice calls your name and you look around, finding a familiar face on the crowded sidewalk.
“Jeremy, hey. How are you?” You ask as the man approaches. It feels like forever ago that you went to dinner together and looking at him now you think he’s handsome but he doesn’t hold a candle to Joel.
“I’m good. Been busy. I gotta say, I was a little bummed I didn’t hear from you after our date. Thought we had a good time,” he says, running a hand through his hair.
“Didn’t…hear from me?” You ask nervously.
He tilts his head. “Yeah. Thought you said you would text me when you got home.”
“Uh…yeah. Sorry. I guess I just forgot.”
The bell dings above the door to the ice cream parlor, Joel and Sarah emerging with a sundae piled with whipped cream. Jeremy looks toward them, then back at you.
“I’m guessing another date is off the table?” He asks, slipping his hands into his pants pockets.
Joel looks between the two of you, brow furrowed as he sets the sundae on the metal table and Sarah takes a seat, digging in immediately.
“Jeremy, this is Joel and his daughter, Sarah. She’s in my soccer camp this summer. Joel, this is my friend Jeremy,” you introduce. Jeremy holds a hand out to Joel, who shakes it briefly, brows still pinched.
“I better get going. Nice seeing you, let me know if you want to get together again,” Jeremy says before turning to leave. When you glance at Joel, his shoulders are drawn up and jaw clenched tight as he stabs his spoon into his ice cream.
“What do you guys have planned this weekend?” You ask to break the silence. Sarah perks up and begins to tell you about how her Uncle Tommy, Joel’s brother, is taking her to a local carnival. You listen and nod along despite the fact that your thoughts are stuck on Jeremy’s words.
If it wasn’t Jeremy on the other end of your conversation that night…who was it?
——————
As the three of you walk back to your vehicles, Joel’s still thinking about that man who’d been talking to you at the ice cream shop and how it made his blood burn hot to hear him mention going on a date with you. His pulse pounded in his ears as he shook the guy’s hand, any information about the guy going right over his head. He didn’t even taste the ice cream or hear the conversation you and Sarah had about the weekend, lost in his thoughts about how between early mornings helping you prep for camp and late afternoons at pick up have all somehow allowed you to burrow into his heart.
A hand wraps around his bicep, halting him in his steps. He glances at your concerned face and suddenly all that tension leaves him in a rush. Sarah says her goodbye, hugging you around your waist before hopping into the truck, leaving the two of you alone.
“You okay?” You ask, taking a step closer.
“I’m great, sweetheart. Get home safe,” he says, eyes dipping briefly to your mouth. Your tongue pokes out, tracing your lower lip. He takes a step back before he’s tempted to lean in and chase the taste of chocolate and you.
“I’ll see you Monday?”
“Bright and early.”
——————
Sarah spikes a fever Sunday night and spends the night curled around the toilet while Joel coaxes some water into her and keeps her hair out of harm's way. When it seems that the worst of her nausea has passed, Joel leaves her to rest in her bed while he goes downstairs and grabs the contact list you’d given him at the beginning of camp.
He starts a text, letting you know that Sarah’s sick and won’t make it to camp, at least for today. When it’s sent, he heads back upstairs, armed with a sleeve of crackers to deliver to his daughter.
Maybe he can squeeze in a little bit of sleep for himself.
——————
Hey, it’s Joel. Sarah’s sick and won’t make it to camp today.
You stare at the text, mind reeling. Not because a parent is texting you, that’s pretty common and you hope Sarah is doing okay, but because you already have a thread with Joel.
One where you’d called him sir and told him his cock would feel so good inside of you because you’d thought you’d been texting Jeremy. Your cheeks feel so hot you worry spontaneous human combustion could actually be a thing.
What are you even supposed to do in this situation? Do you tell him about it?
Hey, Joel. No worries. Thanks for letting me know, hope she feels better soon. Oh, also, you’ve sent me a picture of your dick.
You delete the last line immediately, hitting your phone against your forehead like doing so might make your thoughts make sense.
Hey, Joel. No worries. Thanks for letting me know, hope she feels better soon. Any chance you can make good on that promise and bend me over the bed?
You delete the last line again with a groan.
Hey, Joel. No worries. Thanks for letting me know, hope she feels better soon. There’s something I want to talk to you about. Would you be able to meet with me after practice this week? Or sometime this weekend?
You hit send before you can back out, tossing your phone in your bag as you get ready to head out the door.
——————
Joel wakes later in the morning and reads your text message. His mind races with what you could want to talk to him about. Maybe you noticed how he reacted to your friend and wanted to tell him you’re uncomfortable? Or maybe something to do with Sarah?
Fuck, he thinks, scrubbing a hand over his face. He reads the message a few more times but it doesn’t reveal any additional clues. He types out a message, pressing send before he can overthink the contents.
She seems to be doing better. Should be back to camp tomorrow. I can meet you somewhere for dinner on Friday after camp? My treat.
——————
Joel’s text plays on a loop in your brain for the rest of the week. Unlike the previous weeks of camp, he and Sarah don’t show up early. In fact, he’s been dropping her off almost at the last minute and picking her up promptly when camp ends, always managing to show up when you’re already pulled into conversation with another parent and driving off before you have a chance to talk with him.
On Friday, Joel is at the field early, leaning against his truck as he talks to Sarah. You park beside them, and he helps you unload your car and set up for the day, just as he had the weeks prior, making small talk like he hadn’t just spent the week dodging you after suggesting dinner. When everything is unpacked and Sarah is kicking a ball around, you follow Joel to his truck under the guise of needing one more thing from your car.
“Hey, are we still on for dinner?” You ask him. He runs a hand through his hair and you try not to let yourself zero in on the way his bicep flexes with the motion.
“‘Course. How ‘bout I meet you at that diner downtown? The one with the—“
“All day breakfast?” You finish. Joel grins.
“Yeah, that’s the one. Is six good?”
“Six is great.” You smile back at him, lost in the way his eyes crinkle in the corners and his mouth lifts slightly higher on the right.
“Coach!” Sarah yells, making you jump.
“Guess I better get out there,” you say, shifting nervously.
“Yeah, I’ll uh…I’ll see you later?” He asks.
“Looking forward to it.”
——————
To your surprise, it’s not Joel that picks up Sarah that afternoon, but another man with familiar brown eyes and dark curly hair. You grab your folder from your bag as Sarah greets the man, flipping through the pages until you’ve found her emergency contact form.
“Hey there,” the man says, a grin lighting up his face. “I’m Sarah’s Uncle Tommy.”
You shake the hand he’s held out towards you and introduce yourself. “Nice to meet you. Mind if I check your ID for alternate pick up?”
“Go right ahead,” he replies, pulling a worn brown leather wallet from his jeans and handing you his ID from its contents. “Don’t judge the photo, alright? It’s old.”
A younger version of the man in front of you is pictured on the card, his curly dark hair buzzed short and a grim expression on his face. You note the name THOMAS MILLER beside the picture and check it against Sarah’s emergency contact form.
“Thanks, Tommy,” you tell him, handing back the ID. There’s a brief silence where Tommy seems to be assessing you.
“So…,” he says, rocking on his heels, “you’re the girl that’s got Joel all tangled up, huh?”
You blink. “Uh—“
“Uncle Tommy! Let’s go!” Sarah shouts from the parking lot.
“Hold your horses!” Tommy yells. He gives you one last knowing smirk. “Have fun with Joel tonight!”
You watch him jog over to the truck and get behind the wheel, Sarah waving at you as he pulls out of the parking spot. You wave back, but your mind is stuck on Tommy’s words, the implication of them having your stomach doing backflips.
——————
Joel’s fingers fidget with the straw wrapper, ripping it into small pieces that build in a pile on the laminate table while he waits for you to arrive for dinner. He’s still not sure what this is all about and that uncertainty has had him stuck in his head to the point where Tommy was giving him a hard time at work about it.
“Let me know if you need me to stay with Sarah overnight,” Tommy had said as Joel checked himself in the hall mirror one last time before leaving the house.
“It ain’t like that,” he grumbled back, but there was no changing his brother’s mind.
“Sure, you keep tellin’ yourself that.”
The bell above the diner door rings with a new customer, pulling Joel from his thoughts. You’ve just walked in wearing a dress, a far cry from the soccer shorts and t-shirt he’s seen you in every day this summer. His gaze is pulled to the tantalizing glimpse of your chest he gets from the deep neckline and the way the fabric swishes against your thighs as you approach.
“Hi,” you say, sliding into the booth across from him. “Thanks for meeting me.”
“Sure,” Joel says, giving you what he hopes is a confident smile but he’s almost certain it’s more of a grimace.
A silence settles over the table as you both look at the laminated menus like they hold the secret to the universe. The waitress swings by and takes your orders - chocolate chip waffles for you and a medium rare burger for Joel.
“How’s Sarah doing with the camp?” Joel asks.
“She’s doing great. Easily one of the best players I’ve got this year,” you reply.
“Good that’s…good. You used to play for UT, right?”
“Yep, starting forward until I tore my ACL,” you tell him. “Now I coach because you can take the girl out of soccer but you can’t take the soccer from the girl.”
“That’s impressive,” Joel comments. “Is coaching your full time job?”
“No, I work in marketing for an instrument production company.”
“Really? You play anything?”
“Some guitar, a little piano. Nothing crazy. Do you?”
Joel laughs. “Been a while, but I got a guitar stashed away in a closet somewhere.”
The waitress returns with your food, setting the plates in front of you and asking if either of you need anything else before leaving the two of you to your meals.
Joel is a few bites into his burger when you set your fork down and say, “Look, I’m just gonna come right out and say it. You’ve sent me a picture of your dick.”
Joel nearly chokes, sputtering for air around his burger and grabbing his Coke, desperate for relief. He chugs the beverage, tears in his eyes.
“Are you okay?” You ask, wide eyes full of concern.
“No, I’m not okay, what do you mean I’ve sent you a picture of my dick?” He hisses, looking around the mostly empty diner.
“About a month ago I went on a date with that guy I ran into at the ice cream place, Jeremy? We met on a dating app so we were messaging through there and he gave me his number at the end of the night,” you say quickly. “And I texted the number with some…racy photos. And messages.”
Joel feels the rising panic in his chest. No, there’s absolutely no way that random number could have been you. There’s no way he sexted his daughter’s soccer coach.
“I didn’t find out it was you until you texted me about Sarah being sick. I still had the chat with your number,” you finish, reaching into your bag and pulling out your phone. Joel watches with building dread as you tap on the screen and set the phone on the table, sliding it toward him.
You’ve opened the chat with him, the innocuous messages at the bottom about Sarah missing camp giving way to photo attachments he doesn’t dare click on but remembers vividly. He looks up at you.
“I…I’m so sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have replied, the messages weren’t meant for me.”
“I’m not mad,” you assure him. “A little embarrassed, maybe. But also…can I be completely honest?”
“Of course.”
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about your messages.”
Joel’s mouth drops open in surprise. “You…really?”
“Yeah. And knowing it’s you…,” you say, voice trailing off. Your eyes are dark, a little smirk playing on your lips that has Joel’s cock twitching with interest. “Well, that makes it better.”
“It does?” Joel asks. You nod, picking up a bite of waffle with your fork, a moan of appreciation leaving your lips.
“It does,” you confirm.
Joel turns around in the booth and flags down the waitress.
“Check, please!”
——————
After paying for dinner, Joel walks you to the parking lot, his broad palm on your low back directing you to where his truck is parked.
He’s got you pressed against the passenger door, his chest grazing yours with each breath he takes. He lifts a hand to your cheek, his thumb rubbing across your bottom lip. His gaze grows dark as you dart your tongue out, flicking it against the digit.
“Such a fuckin’ tease,” he says. Gone is the man who was mortified to find out he’d been sexting you and in his place is the man behind the screen. “You wore this little dress because you knew exactly what you wanted, isn’t that right?”
“Maybe,” you murmur. “You don’t like it?”
“Mm,” he hums, “Ain’t a matter of not likin’ it, trust me.”
His hands grip your hips, the fabric bunching in his fists as he moves a thigh between your legs. The sudden friction of his jeans, even through the barrier of your underwear, has you gasping.
“Joel,” you whimper, grinding over the muscle of his thigh. He kisses along the length of your neck, lips right over your racing pulse. “Come on, take me home.”
“You can ask more nicely than that,” he says, hands guiding the movement of your hips, forward and back, across his thigh. You moan, louder than you intended, too loud for the parking lot of a busy diner at dinner rush.
“Please, sir,” you whisper. “Please, take me home.”
“Cum on my thigh and we can leave,” he replies. “Leave a nice little wet spot on my jeans and then I’ll take you home and make you scream my name as loud as you need to.”
Joel’s lips capture your own, swallowing the curse that was ready to spill from them at his demand. His kiss is rough, demanding, his stubble scratching your skin and his tongue tangling with yours as your hips continue to rock over his leg. You dig your fingers into his hair, holding tightly to him while the knot of need in your belly tightens.
“Come on, baby,” he says when he lifts his head, lips still pressed to your neck. “Make a mess, come on.”
You go still in his hands as your orgasm washes over you, your muscles stiff as your pussy pulses desperately over his thigh. Joel pulls you in for another kiss, this one slow and sweet to bring you back to reality.
When you’ve caught your breath, he steps back, adjusting the skirt of your dress back over your thighs. He looks down at his pants and then back at you, a smirk on his handsome face. You look down, face heating with embarrassment as you notice the dark patch of denim.
“Get in the truck, baby.”
——————
You give Joel directions to your apartment, his warm hand on your thigh the whole way there. Your nerves are buzzing beneath your skin again, the effect of your first orgasm wearing off and your desire building rapidly with each mile closer to your apartment.
He parks in the visitor parking and you move to open the door, but a tan arm reaches across and tugs it shut. Confused, you watch Joel jump from the truck and jog around to the passenger side to pull open your door and hold a hand out to you.
You’re laughing as he helps you from the truck and shuts the door behind you, your giggles persisting as you lead him upstairs and his arms circle your waist while you try to unlock your door. He hustles you across the threshold, kicking the door shut behind him and flipping the deadbolt.
“Bedroom?” He asks.
“End of the hall,” you reply.
Joel pulls you along behind him, a man on a mission. Once inside your room, you flip on your bedside lamp and Joel steps in close, framing your face in his hands and giving you another kiss that has the butterflies in your tummy going wild.
His fingers are curling into the hem of your dress, dragging it up your body and breaking the kiss long enough to pull it over your head and toss it to the floor. His lips are back on yours while his hands map your curves, calloused fingers catching on soft skin and making goosebumps erupt in their wake.
“Get on the bed,” he commands. You turn, crawling onto the mattress slowly, a wiggle in your hips. You look over your shoulder at the older man and find his gaze fixed on your ass. He grins. “You remember what I said last time you teased me?”
“No. I think I need a reminder,” you tell him. He huffs, shaking his head.
“Teasin’ me and gettin’ mouthy? Think that might earn you a punishment.”
Joel palms the cheeks of your ass, pulling them apart in a rough grip that has you gasping his name. His fingers dig into the flesh, the ache of them already making your head spin.
“Five ain’t enough, but it’s all I’ve got the patience for right now,” he says. His tone changes as he asks, “You got a safe word? If I need to stop?”
“Apricots,” you say easily. He tilts his head. “It’s from a TV show. New Girl?”
“Never heard of it,” he says. “Alright, apricots it is.”
He pulls your panties down, leaving them around your thighs. His thumbs spread you apart and the vulnerability of this position, your ass in the air and everything spread for him, by him, has you feeling like you’re on fire.
“Pretty little pussy,” he murmurs. “But I already knew that. Because you’re a dirty fuckin’ girl who sent me pictures just because I told you how to cum. Ain’t that right?”
“Mhm.”
An open palm lands on your right ass cheek, hear blossoming on the spot as you gasp, lurching forward. His hands pull you towards him and he presses down between your shoulder blades, your back arching.
“Don’t move,” he commands. “That was one. You count the next one.”
Another smack across your other cheek, more sharp pain that shifts into dull ache as you mumble, “Two.”
He doles out two more in quick succession, each other making your pussy clench with need. You’re drooling into sheets, a whimpering mess as he runs his fingers through your soaked folds and lets out a deep groan.
“Baby, you’re soaked,” he says. “Fuck, one more, okay? One more and then I’ll have you wrapped around my cock.”
You nod your head, bracing for the final blow across your sensitive skin. The sting of his palm as it lands makes your eyes roll back, the line between pleasure and pain so blurry you don’t know which side you stand on.
His hands leave your hips and without the support, you slide flat to your belly. Distantly, you register the opening of your nightstand drawer and the sound of Joel rummaging through the contents, followed by the muted thump of clothes being discarded to the floor.
Joel maneuvers you to your back in the center of the bed, pulling your panties off. “You did so good, sweetheart,” he praises. You smile at him.
“Do I get a reward now, sir?” You ask.
“‘Course, baby. Good girls get what they deserve.”
His hips press between yours, his cock sliding through your wetness and catching on your clit. He positions the thick head at your slick entrance, pressing in the slightest bit. You take in the sight of him, his broad chest held over you by strong arms, the muscles of his neck tense.
Joel slides in slowly, your body accepting him gratefully. The stretch borders on painful but the fullness has you digging your nails into his back, a moan falling from your lips. It feels like ages before his hips as flush to yours and all you can feel is Joel Joel Joel.
“Fuck,” he groans, forehead dropping to yours. “Christ, you feel so fuckin’ good.”
He pulls back slightly, thrusting forward with a sharp snap of his hips. As he starts to set a rhythm, he sits up on his knees, lifting one of your legs up with a hand on the back of your thigh and pressing it to the side. The position opens you up further, letting him get impossibly deeper, and all you can do is allow him to use your body to his liking.
It’s not long before you’re screaming his name, as promised, the knot of pleasure in your core pulling tight and getting ready to snap.
“You gonna cum again for me?” Joel asks, breathing labored as his pace doesn’t falter. “Come on, baby, cum on my cock. You’re such a good fuckin’ girl, I know you can do it.”
“Joel!” You shout, that last thread snapping as your orgasm rushing through you, stars bursting behind your eyelids as they snap shut with the force of it all. Your pussy clenches around him, his hips stuttering and growing sloppy until he’s pressing in deep with a groan of your name.
He collapses on top of you, a heavy weight but not an unwelcome one as you both try to catch your breath, sweat cooling between you. After a moment, his softening cock slips from your body and he rolls to the side, gathering you to his chest.
“Holy shit,” you whisper.
“Yeah,” Joel whispers back. He sits up, leaning over the edge of the bed and grabbing his jeans, pulling his phone free.
He taps on the screen and brings it to his ear, a distant ringing audible through the speaker.
“Tommy? Yeah, everythin’s fine,” Joel says when his call connects. He takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Could you stay with Sarah tonight? Shut up,” he grumbles. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll be back in the mornin’. Thanks, brother.”
Joel hangs up and you raise your eyebrows at him.
“You’re staying?” You ask.
“Yeah, baby. I ain’t finished with you yet,” he replies, pressing a flurry of kisses to your face, neck, and shoulders, sending you into a fit of giggles.
——————
1 Year Later
“Alright, great job, girls! Let’s get your snacks,” you shout as your summer league girls jog towards you from the field following their third tournament game.
The girls crowd around the cooler that Joel’s prepared, grabbing small bottles of Gatorade or water and a bag of orange slices. They lounge around the sidelines and you step up beside Joel, bumping him with your hip.
“Thanks for the snacks,” you say. He grins at you.
“‘Course. Gotta take care of my girls,” he replies. He pulls one last bag of oranges from the cooler. “And one for coach.”
“How’d I get so lucky?” You ask, looping an arm around his waist.
“What can I say? You texted the right wrong number.”
Joel Miller Masterlist
#joel miller x reader#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller x female reader#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel tlou#no use of y/n#joel x reader#pre outbreak!joel#no outbreak!joel miller
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kiss me thru the phone
matt sturniolo x reader smut .
matt can’t be there to help reader , so he reminds her of an old tape she can use to help jog her memory
warnings : smut , fem! receiving , sex tape , solo fem! slight soft dom matt. language.
italic writing = sex tape footage
-————☆——————☆——————☆————-
the lights were dim in my room . the only sounds heard being the shuffling of my body against my quilt and the taps of my acrylics on my phone screen.
the smell of cologne still attached to the fabric of my pillow case brings a smile to my face . he still wears it .
huffing in the smell i turn around to the other side of my bed . the cold sheets hug the skin of my arm as i throw my hand onto his pillow, missing the feeling of his chest rising next to me , missing the warmth of his skin and the soft fabric of his clothes . opening my phone app i press the recently dialed number , feeling the dial tone vibrate against my hand before it clicks off and i hear the familiar voice ring through the speaker.
“hey i was just thinking about you” matt’s voice spoke into my ear through the phone , his voice high , almost being able to hear the smile against his lips .
“what were u thinking about?” i reply as i get up from my pillows , sitting up and placing a strand of hair behind my ear.
“you know the usual , how i missed you , wondered when i’m gonna see you next , how hot your new post was on instagram is , how horny i now am , how pretty you are ….” he trails off , my eyebrows raise at that second to last one , letting a huff of air out through my nostrils , laughing in slight shock .
“hey what was that that last one ?” i say cutting him off .
“how pretty you are ? i feel like i say that a lot you shouldn’t be so suprise-“
i cut him off “no no. the other one , say that one again” i say quieter this time , now very aware of the prickling between my legs .
“i said …. how horny i am y/n , how hard i am from one photo of you . how much i wish i was there with you now , watching how easy it is to get you all worked up” he says slowly , every word making my heart beat quicken . every syllable making my legs press together more , squeezing the rising tension between my thighs. i let out a shakey breath as i lay back down . subconsciously my body arches back and my legs spread , the heels of my feet dragging along my bottom sheet as i situate myself .
“y/n ? you there sweetheart?” he says quietly , his voice soothing and soft .
“mhmm” i reply , in a trance as i stare at the ceiling, slowly biting down on my bottom lip as i bring my hand up to my chest , slowly trailing my nails across the skin on my breast . feeling my cold fingers move against the skin, forming goosebumps with their trail .
“you okay ? you went quiet there for a second?” he asks kindly , snapping me out of my trance slightly.
“fuck matt i need you” i breathe out , completely unaware of the way matt is loving this .
“i know you do , but i can’t come over tonight , so i need you to do something for me okay ?” he says with fake softness , his voice a calculated one as he waits for his cue .
“anything matt”
and there it is .
“i want you to open the file i know you have on your laptop, the one we made in august ? hmm. i want you to watch it . touch yourself where i touched you in that video, can you do that for me baby ?” he says , his voice now slightly croaky as he quietly talks into his speaker .
“mhm” i reply quietly, my hands already finding their way down to my shorts , past the fabric and onto the skin of my pussy.
“i need you words y/n , tell me exactly what your gonna do.”
i hault my hand as he speaks , a flush creeping onto my face at the tone of his voice. “ i’m gonna touch myself matty , i’m gonna watch the video we made together , im gonna relive it . fuck” i say as my fingers make my way beneath the fabric again , making contact with my sensitive clot for a split second.
“good girl , i’ve got to go now . but don’t be shy , send anything u want me to see” he says sweetly again , his dominant tone switching off again before the end tone rings , signalling him ending the call .
i open my hidden camera roll on my phone , finding the video very quickly. my hand lowers in my shorts before i wriggle out of them , watching the video play .
sounds of kissing is the only thing heard as matt slowly climbs on top of me . his jawline on the camera sharp and perfect as his tongue fights against mine . i moan softly as his hands brush my side , lifting my top up slightly, allowing his hands to snake up my shirt , cupping my breast as he continues to kiss me .
his lips move down to my neck , i throw it back at his touch allowing him a better angle , soft moans and sighs escaping my lips as he works my body the way he knows so well . kissing , sucking , licking all the spots he knows so well , eluding more pleasured sighs from me . my hands slip up his top and i take it off his body , his lips detaching from my neck as i pull the shirt over his head , before y it on the floor. i bring his face to mine again , taking control of the kiss now , my body attempting to roll against his as he pulls away from the kiss and lowers himself to my bare stomach, kissing the skin down to my underwear covered pussy . as he does this i throw my own shirt off my head , throwing it with his . the moment my shirt is on the ground , i feel my panties being rolled over my hips , down the my feet before i am lay bare in-front of him .
he spreads my legs , his muscles in his arms flexing as he holds them open , ducking his head to where i need him the most .
he licks a stripe up my folds , his saliva and my wetness allowing his tongue to slide to my clit easily , making a lewd moan fall from my lips at the contact . he wraps lips around my clit , placing a kiss to it before allowing his tongue to move over the sensitive bundle of nerves . my hand makes it’s way to his hair as he continues, my hips grinding up against him , my thighs trapping him between my legs as his mouth wraps around my pussy .
wet and lewd sounds along with soft moans and whispered “matt” ‘s are the only things heard now , my orgasm slowly creeping up on me as he places two fingers inside of me slowly, curling them into me .
my jaw falls slack as i feel this , my head throwing back into the pillows of his bed . my hand not in his hair grabs onto the headboard behind me , my nails digging into the fabric for some kind of relief as he shakes his head left to right violently.
“fuck fuck matt matt matt please” is all i manage to get our before both of my hands are in his hair , pushing his head down into my further as i reach my high , loud moans being pulled from me as he continues to push his tongue against my clit , riding out my high with me .
as i reach my high on the video i reach my high in real life , my phone falling from my hands as i grip the sheets of my bed , eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back into my pillow .
god even when he’s not here he still fucks me good .
-———————————-♡———————————-
tag list ?
#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#sturniolo smut#nick sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo smut#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo fic#sturniolo fanfic#nicolas sturniolo
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love me like you
pairing: sim jake x fem!reader
synopsis: who would’ve thought that a multitude of failed blind dates would lead you to fake dating jake sim? definitely not you. soon, you find out fake dating has its pros and cons. pros; you’re finally in a relationship, you have your own personal chauffeur, and your own personal study buddy. cons; you fall in love. what a mess.
genre: strangers to lovers, blind dating, fake dating, mutual pining, fluff and angst
featuring: enhypen, wonyoung of ive, yunjin of lsfm, ricky of zb1, soobin of txt
warnings: light angst, profanity, mentions of alchohol/consumption of alchohol, lots of kissing, mentions of death
word count: 25k
author’s note: look this got out of hand and idk how that happened. what was supposed to be under 20k turned into this mess. please ignore all the editing mistakes and if the story doesnt flow well/is choppy and some scenes feel out of place….just know i had to cut scenes out to post this fic. i couldnt post the whole 28k word fic for some weird reason so this is the edited version. please enjoy and lmk if u want to read the scenes i had to cut! anyway the reader is korean in this fic, just a heads up. u will see Why. um. thats it. and also if the ending feels rushed, that’s because It Is.
“Are you mansplaining to me?” You ask your date, a frown permanently sharpened onto your face. “Because, for the record, I know what a wage gap is. No need to explain it in a condescending way.”
You were excited about this date -- the fourth one your kind friend, and roommate, Wonyoung had set up for you. She had taken your inexperience in high school very personally and took it upon herself to get you to go on as many dates as possible. In her own words, “you’re at college! Time to let loose, girl!”
So; your first date went well, but it only ended in a friendship. Taehyun Kang was fun to talk to, but when the date came to an end the both of you agreed your relationship wouldn’t ever go further than a friendship, so you exchanged numbers, followed each other on TikTok, and began to send each other random, funny TikToks to each other.
Your second date showed up stoned. Ben was fun to talk to since he was stoned, and his answers to the questions you had to ask ten times were completely off-topic, but you still had an enjoyable time. Though, when the date ended you both went your separate ways. (Ben texted you within the following days. He invited you to a party. You then lost your virginity.)
Your third date was with a girl. Yuri Jo. She was pretty and funny, and she went on this date to make her crush jealous. You willingly helped Yuri out, and a week after your date, Yuri’s crush confessed to her. Yuri and you keep in touch over Instagram -- Yuri’s feed is just her and her girlfriend now, and you think it’s adorable.
This brings us to your fourth date; Soobin Choi. Anime enthusiast, takes Gender Studies as an elective course, and a professional mansplainer. When he showed up to the date, you felt yourself swoon over how handsome he looked. His smile was cute, and dimples were even cuter -- and then Soobin opened his mouth. The first red flag was the fact Soobin said he wasn’t a feminist, but women should be treated just as fairly as men. You told Soobin that was feminism and he shot you down. Then, for the better half of your date, Soobin mansplained many things to you; Anime, Maki Zeinin from Jujutsu Kaisen, and the wage gap.
“And I don’t think men should even be allowed to speak about Maki Zeinin. She is for the women. She is gay.”
Soobin harshly stabs his tiramisu as he listens to you. “Maki is-- Maki is not gay.” Soobin splutters. “Calling a character, whose sexuality hasn’t been explicitly revealed, gay is very --”
Huffing, you push back your chair and glare at Soobin. “Thank you for the date, Soobin but I think it’s time for me to go. I forgot I had fish to feed and a New Girl marathon to finish.”
“Fine,” sniffs Soobin, abandoning his tiramisu. “Let’s go split the payment.”
After splitting the pavement, you step out into the cold December air. Shivering, you draw your coat tighter around your torso and scan the streets around you. Soobin turns to you, and you brace yourself for whatever bullshit he was about to say.
“Would you like a ride home?” Soobin asks.
“No,” you answer without any hesitation.
“Are you sure? How else will you get home, then?”
“I can walk,” you respond coldly.
“Walk,” Soobin repeats, not believing your words. “Don’t be stupid, Y/N. Come on, let me take you home.”
Sighing, you give in. It was quite cold, and you weren’t sure you would be able to walk all the way home in the dark. “Fine.” You follow Soobin to his car, which is a car you expected from a college student; old, and barely working.
It takes a while for hot air to blow through the heaters, so you sit in the cold silence with Soobin for half of the ride back to your place. “How do you even know Wonyoung?” You ask Soobin, looking out the window and watching cars race past.
“I don’t know her, she’s just a friend of a friend,” Soobin answers.
“Why did you even agree to go on this date?”
Soobin shrugs. “Post-grad is lonely.”
Finally, your dorm hall comes into view. You could practically hear New Girl calling to you. “Thank you for the ride home,” you tell Soobin.
“No problem. See you around?”
“Yeah,” you shut the door and immediately sprint into your dorm hall, aching for warmth over the chilly wind blowing violently through the air. Rushing past the kitchen and the common areas, you dash into the elevator that Ricky was holding open for you. You thank the platinum blond and rest against the elevator walls, fanning yourself.
In your pocket, your phone begins to buzz uncontrollably. Stifling your sigh, you pull out your phone and unlock it to see all of your friends active in the group chat.
yoon 💖
[1 video attachment]
WOAHHHHHHHHHH?????
apparently jake gave her chlamydia LMFAO
jiwon loml
throwing a red drink all over his white top..that’s gotta hurt lol
wony 👯
jake has chlamydia???
yoon 💖
idk.
the girl in the video mentions it tho. did u not watch it???
wony 👯
i did!!!!! i’m just surprised jake has chlamydia
baby hikaru
what’s so surprising abt it??
rei 🐥 🐥
jsut spliilt ramen everywhehere :(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((:((((((((((((((((
The elevator door dings open and you step out, walking down the hall to your room. Your and Wonyoung’s names were proudly sketched onto the whiteboard outside of your room. Cats, courtesy of Jiwon, and hearts, courtesy of Rei were added on after you hung the whiteboard outside of the room when you first moved in.
Pushing open the door, Wonyoung lies on her bed, swinging her legs through the air as she smiles bashfully at her phone. “Welcome back, Y/N,” Wonyoung looks up from her phone and wiggles her eyebrows. “So? Did you kiss? Are you two boyfriend and girlfriend? Soobin’s really handsome, isn’t he?”
“He’s handsome,” you agree, shrugging off your coat. “But. He’s just not my type.”
Wonyoung groans, rolling onto her back. “No one is your type. What is your type?”
“Someone who doesn’t mansplain the wage gap to me,” you deadpan, crawling under your covers and staring up at the ceiling. “He said he wasn’t a feminist, yet he hopes that one day women can be treated just as fairly as men.”
Wonyoung snorts. “That sounds terrible.”
“It was terrible,” you groan, rolling onto your stomach and suffocating yourself with your pillow.
“Well, I’m out of options,” Wonyoung tells you. “My connections can only get me so far.”
“That’s okay,” you roll back onto your back and look over at Wonyoung. “I’m thinking, you know that section in the school’s magazine? Where they send two people on a blind date and then those two people write about the date for the magazine? I might sign up for that. It looks fun, and who knows, maybe I will find the love of my life! If not, I’ll just join dating apps.”
Wonyoung perks up, her eyes shining. “Oh my god! Yes!” She shifts to the edge of her bed. “You should one-hundred percent do it, Y/N. Apply for it now!” Wonyoung slips off her bed and steps over to her desk, grabbing her Macbook and flopping down onto your bed beside you.
With a pounding heart, you sign up for the blind date program. “I hope I get someone nice,” you tell Wonyoung as you click the apply button. “Someone I can at least have a conversation with.”
“Or someone you can get down and dirty with,” smirks Wonyoung, ignoring your glare. Her phone buzzes and you steal a glance at the notification. You gasp and whack Wonyoung on the shoulder when you see who has just texted her. “Sunghoon Park? Since when did you know Sunghoon Park?”
“I don’t,” Wonyoung says.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t know him,” but the blush spreading across her cheeks as she types back with a stupid smile on her face says otherwise.
Rolling your eyes, you pull out your phone to spill Wonyoung’s Sunghoon Secret to the groupchat. “I totally believe you, Wonyoung.”
—-
It’s been a week since you took a leap of faith and applied for the blind date program run by your university’s magazine. It’s been a week of you non-stop refreshing the top of your school email’s inbox. It’s been a week of Wonyoung constantly asking you if you had scored a blind date. It’s been a week of nothing but stress.
You slowly come to terms with the fact that you weren’t chosen -- it was like you were asking whoever it is that pairs two people together to search for a needle in a stack of needles. What needle were they supposed to be searching for in the first place? It’s all futile.
Though, when your inbox receives a new email on a Wednesday night, you can’t help but squeal. “Wonyoung!” You call out, waving your best friend over as you eagerly squirm on the armchair you were sitting on in the common room of your dormitory.
Congrats! You’ve been chosen…reads the email notification. Wonyoung eagerly badgers you to open the email, and without hesitation you do. A flood of information is revealed to you and Wonyoung -- your date was to happen on a Friday night. 6 PM. At the local restaurant that is an avid sponsor of your college’s football team, you and your date were to be gifted with a one-hundred-dollar voucher to cover the cost of your dinner.
“This is amazing, Y/N!” Wonyoung whispers to you in the dark, hours after you received the email. The time was creeping into the early morning of Thursday when Wonyoung whispered to you, the both of you unable to sleep because of the email you received confirming that you were going on another blind date this Friday.
Friday comes faster than you expected it to, and you were not prepared for what it brings you. As Murphy’s Law states; anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. And it all starts with you sleeping through your 9 AM alarm. (For the first time ever.) You wake up with ten minutes to get dressed, eat, and race across campus to your first lecture of the day -- even worse, it was raining outside. Torrential rain.
It doesn’t get any better. At your first tutorial of the day, your tutor hands you back the essay you asked her to go over, and it’s covered in red marker with a comment saying this essay is a C. C plus at best. And you feel your knees give out. You race through lunch, grabbing hot chips from your dormitory’s lunch hall and re-reading the red-marked comments on your worst essay to date.
Your following lecture is canceled because your professor is sick, and then your last tutorial of the day is also canceled. You end up joining Wonyoung, Yoon, and Rei in one of the campus cafes, soothing your sorrows with apple juice bought from a vending machine.
“Enhypen’s throwing a party tomorrow,” Yoon says. “Should we go?”
“I’m down,” Rei shrugs. “I need to forget all about the assessments waiting for me back at my dorm.” Then, she nudged Wonyoung. “But I bet Wonyoung is eager to go. Her beau is in that frat.”
Wonyoung blushes hotly and tells Rei to shut the fuck up. You don’t have the energy in you to join in on Rei’s teasing.
When you reach your dorm after spending the rest of the afternoon elbow-deep in assessments in the campus library, you note the time. 5:30 PM. Didn’t you have something to do at 6? Then, you remember. The blind date. Fuck.
You throw open the tiny shared closet and rummage through all the clothes you and Wonyoung were able to stuff in here before investing in a couple of dressers. Every outfit you try on isn’t up to your, or Wonyoung’s standards, and by the time you’re done with your outfit and makeup, the clock reads 5:55 PM. You can’t take the bus now; you’re going to be super fucking late.
Bidding Wonyoung a hurried goodbye, you race into the common room and scout for a familiar face. As usual, Ricky was reclining sideways on one of the many couches, Uno cards in hand, and completely obliterating who he was playing with. (Bahiyyih, Dayeon, and Youngeun.)
“Ricky!” You call out, bounding over to the boy. “Could you drive me somewhere? Please? I’ll pay you!”
“Drive you? Where?” Ricky asks, placing a yellow six on top of the growing pile of Uno cards.
“Just.” You check the time on your phone. 5:57 PM. “Down the street. The Korean BBQ place.”
Ricky huffs. “Alright. Let me finish this game first, though.”
“Ricky --”
With a flourish, Ricky places his remaining red cards on top of the red card Youngeun placed down. The three girls all let scandalous gasps rip from their mouths and Ricky smirks proudly. “I won. I expect to see my essays finished by Friday.”
Ricky slips off the couch and pulls his keys out from his hoodie pocket, swinging them through the air. “Let’s go, Y/N.”
—-
“Thank you!” You shout at Ricky as you shut the car door harshly. You break into a run for the Korean BBQ place, already five minutes late. Your heart pounds insanely fast and it feels like you’re about to explode.
With your mind a mess, you don’t notice the large puddle in front of you until it’s too late. Cold water soaks your left foot, drenching your shoe and sock. Coming to an abrupt halt, you glance down, finally taking notice of the large puddle and you let various loud curses rip.
You don’t have time to figure out how to dry yourself, so you carry on to the barbeque place. Wrenching the door open and listening to the bell jingle harshly, you scan the room of people. You don’t even know who you’re looking for. A waitress appears in front of you, beaming. “Are you here for the blind date?”
You nod your head. “Great, I’ll take you over!” You trail after the waitress, cursing under your breath as your shoe squelches every few steps, and your feet grow colder every second you don’t stop to dry yourself. You bump into the waitress, realizing she has come to a stop. “I’ll return in a bit to take your orders. Enjoy!” And then the waitress disappears.
You see who your date is and it takes everything in you to not turn around and walk out of the restaurant.
Jake Sim sits in front of you, blond hair gleaming beneath the bright white restaurant lights. He glances up at you, holding his menu and you can easily tell he’s not impressed by you turning up to the date seven minutes late.
“I’m so sorry,” you blurt, clumsily pulling out your chair and taking a seat opposite him. “I’m so sorry. Today’s been a totally shit day and -- sorry, I shouldn’t cuss. I didn’t mean to arrive late, I was super excited about this date, it’s just that my shit day --- fuck sorry. Sorry. My shit day got in the way of my time management and. I’m just. So sorry. I’m sorry for keeping you waiting. I’m sorry for turning up late.”
Jake smiles. It’s a small smile, one that barely reaches his eyes. “It’s okay. We all have our days.”
“Right.”
You both lapse into awkward silence. “I’m Y/N L/N.” You introduce yourself awkwardly, fiddling with the salt packets on the table.
“Jake Sim,” Jake responds, but you already knew that -- you know Jake Sim well. He’s a part of Enhypen. A well-known, incredibly popular frat on your college’s campus. It’s a legacy frat -- sons of college alumni always get into that frat. There have been the odd students that got into Enhypen because of their connections, but it’s usually always legacies that pledge in. Enhypen is known for many things; the hot college students living in the house, the massive parties they throw almost every weekend, and Jay Park. Everyone who goes to your college knows Jay Park. It’s hard to not know Jay Park -- but that’s another story.
Jake Sim is undeniably handsome. Big, round, warm brown eyes, cute nose, full lips, and sharp cheekbones, he has it all. Jake Sim is also undeniably wealthy, and undeniably smart. Everyone knows Jake will graduate with honors and with the top marks in his class. Everyone knows Jake will be one of the best students to graduate from their university, he’s a once-in-a-generation student. His wealth is also very highly looked upon. His father owns many corporate businesses in America, and overseas (mostly South Korea.) And Jake, himself, has a trust fund and rumor has it the trust fund is in the millions. Jake’s father and mother are legacies of your college, so it’s not a surprise Jake got early admission, and also is a part of Enhypen.
“What year are you?” Jake asks.
“I’m a first year student. Majoring in Linguistics.”
Jake hums. “I'm in my third year. Physics major.”
“I always hated anything to do with math or science in high school,” you comment, picking up the menu in front of you. “I can’t imagine ever wanting to do college-level physics.”
“I hated anything to do with English in high school,” Jake responds. “I don’t know how people can do English-related courses in college. Where would a degree in Linguistics even take you?”
“Translating jobs,” you refuse to look at Jake, some sort of frustration boiling in your blood because of Jake’s offhand comment. “Maybe editing. I could also teach English to non-English speakers. What does Physics even offer to you after post-grad?”
“I could become a NASA employee,” Jake responds. “Which I hope to be after post-grad.”
You take a peek at Jake, who is already looking at you. You smile, but it’s not a warm smile nor does it reach your eyes. “I hope you become a NASA employee as well.”
A familiar waitress stops by, ready to take your orders. After she leaves, the awkward silence is overwhelming so you reach forward and take a sip of water from the glass in front of you. “So,” Jake speaks up after a few moments. “What do you do for fun, Y/N? What are your hobbies?”
Going on a date is a way to get to know each other, so you indulge in Jake’s question. “I like to read—a lot. I love going to libraries and spending hours in them, just flipping through books or taking a seat on a beanbag and reading. I also like just staying in and hanging out with my friends, playing board games is always fun. I don’t really like going out that much.”
Jake hums, and reaches for his own drink. It’s some kind of mocktail. “What about you?” You ask Jake. “What do you do for fun?”
You find out Jake’s the complete opposite of you. He likes to go out. He likes to play sports; basketball, football, soccer, rugby, cricket, baseball. He’s probably done every sport there is. He also likes to go fishing, which you find highly unenjoyable. He’s very active, he finds comfort in exercising. And more importantly, he enjoys a good party.
“Do you drink a lot?” You ask Jake.
“Depends on the day,” Jake answers. “Why do you ask?”
You shrug. “I’m just curious. I don’t drink that much. I do enjoy a bit of white wine here and there, though.”
The conversation between you and Jake seems stilted. You can’t find any common ground -- Jake doesn’t watch many TV shows and not a lot of K-dramas. He watches movies every now and then when he finds time in his busy schedule. “I’m busy almost every day of the week,” Jake explains. “I have football practice and debate club practice, and I handle the funds of our frat since I’m the treasurer. I also pick up tutoring jobs most days.” Even his music taste doesn’t match yours. Anything from Justin Bieber to AC/DC is what Jake enjoys. Different from your own taste.
“Do you know Taylor Swift?” You ask Jake.
“I know her song, Love Story,” Jake answers.
You drop the subject of music immediately.
The food arrives, and it’s awful. You take a bite of your food and immediately regret it because the food is chewy. Very chewy and it tastes severely undercooked. While Jake happily eats his food, you’re left with pushing your food around your plate because you don’t want to cause a scene. You don’t want to make some waitress’ day awful because of your complaints about undercooked food.
Jake gives you a look as he notices you haven’t touched your plate of food.
“I’m not hungry,” you tell Jake with a grin you hope placates Jake. He just shrugs and continues on eating. The silence is unbearable and your eyes begin to burn, which leads you to reprimand yourself -- why are you tearing up? You have no right to tear up. (Or maybe you do because this date is going badly. The awkward silence refuses to go away, and the more you talk with Jake, the more you realize how little you have in common with him.)
Jake finishes eating and there’s another five-minute silence. “Wanna go get ice cream?” Jake asks. His eyes beg you to say no and you want to say no, but instead, you say “Sure!”
You follow Jake up to the counter to pay, but of course, something bad just has to happen to you. A waitress passing by trips up and spills the red wine she was carrying all over your top. You stand there, fists clenched and blinking back your tears as the waitress apologizes profusely.
“It’s okay,” you assure the waitress, waving her away. “It’s okay.” (It wasn’t okay.)
“What happened?” Jake asks you after he finishes using the voucher to pay, noticing the large red stain on your white top.
“Red wine spillage. Let’s go get ice cream.” You step out of the restaurant and wait for Jake to lead you down the street to the nearby ice cream parlor.
On the way, you once again, don’t notice a large puddle until you’re stepping in it, completely soaking your right foot -- shoes, socks, and all. You groan loudly and shake your first threateningly up at the sky, wondering what you did to make this happen to you.
“You okay?” Jake asks you, frowning slightly.
“Yeah,” you respond, blushing when you realize Jake had been watching as you cursed at the sky above.
Entering the parlor, you search your pockets for your wallet. Your movements become increasingly frantic when you can’t find it and then it hits you -- you have left your wallet on your bedside table. Jake, increasingly perceptive, notices your troubled expression. “What’s up, Y/N?”
You sigh and hang your head, mumbling, “I forgot my wallet.”
“Hmm? What was that?”
“I forgot my wallet,” you repeat louder. The silence that follows is suffocating.
Jake sighs and when you look up, he doesn’t look impressed as he says, “I’ll pay.”
“No -- it’s okay. We don’t have to get ice cream. I don’t want you to pay,” You hold your hands out, your eyes wide and the tears burn your eyes once more.
“I’ll pay,” Jake repeats, more firmly this time. “Pick what flavor you want.”
“Mint chocolate,” you say without hesitation.
Jake makes a face. “You like mint chocolate?”
“It’s the best flavor.”
Jake shudders and shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”
You step up to the counter, Jake gesturing for you to go first. “Can I have mint chocolate please?”
The girl behind the register smiles politely. “Sorry, we ran out of mint chocolate. Do you have another flavor you would like to try?”
You don’t know why, but that was your breaking point. You break out into sobs and the entire shop quietens, all eyes turning to you as you begin to sob at the mention of the shop having no mint chocolate ice cream. Without bothering to excuse yourself, you exit the store, sobbing louder as you stand outside in the cold with soaking wet feet, and a white top stained red.
You wonder why today of all days, the world decides to be cruel to you. Any other day would’ve been fine, but instead, on the day of your blind date with Jake Sim of all people, the world decides to unleash its fury on you.
The door slams shut behind you and you turn around, finding Jake standing in front of the entrance, a small paper cup full of ice cream in hand. You stare at him, unable to respond. Jake had still gotten ice cream, making sure to take his time, instead of coming out to check on you. Maybe you and Jake weren’t compatible in any way -- he was a T, after all, whereas you were an F.
“Jake, what the fuck--”
He steps closer, holding out the paper cup that had two spoons. You peer into the cup, seeing green ice cream with dots of occasional brown chocolate chips. Jake had gotten mint chocolate ice cream. You look at Jake, floundering for words.
“They had mint chocolate out back,” Jake informs you. “I told them to go get it.”
“You don't -- you don’t like mint chocolate though.”
Jake shrugs. “But you do. Here, you must be cold.” He slips off his jean jacket and wraps it around your shoulders. Instantly, you feel warm and the awful feeling that had manifested in your gut disappears. You wipe away your tears and take the unused wooden spoon, scooping up some mint chocolate ice cream and letting it melt in your mouth.
“Thank you, Jake,” you say softly. “How could I ever repay you? You didn’t have to do this.”
“You were having a shitty day,” Jake answers with a small smile -- a small yet genuine smile. His first genuine smile of the date. “It was the least I could do.”
“Well, thank you.” You repeat.
“I know how you can repay me, Y/N,” a mischievous grin spreads across Jake’s face as he takes a step closer. There’s a change of energy in the air and your breath gets caught in your throat. “You can repay me with a kiss.”
“A kiss?”
Jake hums, nodding. “A kiss.” There’s a beat. “You can say no, though.”
“No,” you say, and Jake’s expression changes. He steps back, but instantly you’re yanking him close to you, desperate to correct the misunderstanding. “I mean. No. I don’t want to say no. I want to kiss you, Jake.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Okay,” you repeat.
Jake’s hand cups your cheek. His eyes hold yours, an intense look in them. He begins to lean in and your heart speeds up, your cheek burning beneath Jake’s touch.
“You don’t have chlamydia, do you?” You ask Jake, your voice breathless.
Jake snorts. “No. No, I don’t.”
“Are you sure?”
Jake answers with a kiss. Immediately, with your hand that isn’t holding the cup of ice cream, you grip the collar of Jake’s dress shirt. His lips are warm against yours, and he tastes like mint chocolate. You kiss back eagerly, giving in to the warmth of Jake, and the gentle probing of his tongue, sighing loudly.
“Well, well, well,” an unfamiliar voice cuts through the air. “What do we have here, little Jakey?”
Jake pulls away from you, forehead against yours as he catches his breath before turning around, his hand slipping away from your cheek and bringing all of your warmth with it. “Hyunjae,” Jake says, but he doesn’t sound happy to see the stranger.
You drink in the appearance of the stranger. You’ve never seen him in your life. But you can pick out slight similarities between Jake and this stranger -- Hyunjae. Maybe they’re related in some way, and your cheeks begin to burn a deep red.
“Did you finally settle down, Jakey?” Hyunjae remarks, not kindly.
“What’s it to you?” Jake retorts, his voice strained.
Hyunjae holds up his hands. “I’m just curious, you are my baby cousin after all. I’m very protective over you,” his eyes slide over to you and he gives you a smile that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand. “I’m Hyunjae. Jake’s cousin! We grew up together. How long have you two been dating?”
“Nice to meet you, Hyunjae,” you respond in a small voice. “But we’re not --”
“Don’t answer him, Y/N,” Jake cuts you off, sounding furious. “He’s not worth your time. Go find someone else to bother, Hyunjae. Fuck off.”
Hyunjae holds up his hands like he’s surrendering himself. “No need to get all aggressive, Jakey.” He then winks your way. “I look forward to seeing you around, Y/N.”
Hyunjae walks past you and Jake, sending one last smile over his shoulder. The smile feels like a warning.
You turn to Jake, looking for answers. You find him scuffing his shoe along the ground and mumbling curses under his breath. “Uh, Jake?” You poke his shoulder and he turns to you as if he was only just realizing you were next to him. “Are you okay?”
“Did you drive here?” Jake asks you.
“Uh, no. Ricky dropped me off. Why?”
“Can I take you home?”
You don’t know why your heart drops to your gut. “Oh. Yeah. Sure.”
“Great.” Jake takes your hand into his and pulls you in the direction of his car. You quickly dump the melted ice cream into a nearby trash can and try to keep up with Jake’s rapid footsteps. Jake’s car is a car you expected from someone like him; a flashy black Lexus.
When you are in the safety of Jake’s car, Jake turns to face you and inhales sharply. He doesn’t make any move to turn on the car. “That was my cousin, Hyunjae,” Jake says. “He’s the fucking worst. I don’t think I’ve ever hated someone as much as I hate Hyunjae, and it’s just my luck that he stumbles upon us on a date. Look, Y/N, I know we’ve just met, and I know this date went awful, and I probably don’t have the honor of asking this; but do you want to be my girlfriend?”
You stare at Jake, taken aback. A high-pitched, broken, “What?” Escapes your mouth.
“Not -- not a real girlfriend of course, just. Just a fake one. Let’s fake date. I know Hyunjae, and I know he’s already spreading the news about you and me to everyone in my family. And when it comes to my family --” Jake shakes his head. “It’s best if we fake date for a bit.”
You blink rapidly, trying to take everything in. The past few minutes have gone by so fast -- one moment you were crying because of how awful this day was, then you were wrapped up in Jake’s arms, kissing him, and the next you were watching Jake fight with his cousin and now. And now you’re being asked by Jake to fake date him. “What -- what do I get from this?” You respond. “Say I agree. What’s in it for me?”
Jake obviously wasn’t expecting that kind of response. It takes a while for him to respond to you. “I’ll do anything you ask,” Jake responds. “If you need to be picked up, I’ll pick you up. If you need to be dropped off somewhere, I’ll drop you off.” You don’t respond, thinking over Jake’s offer, but he takes the silence as your rejection so he adds desperately; “I’ll pay you.”
“You’ll -- you’ll pay me?” You look at Jake, gobsmacked.
“I’ll pay you.” Jake nods.
“Tell me why you need us to date this badly,” you tell Jake.
“Look, my family -- they’re not a normal family. All wealthy families aren’t normal. Mine -- they’re all competitive with each other. If one kid gets a high grade, everyone else’s kids must get a higher grade or else they aren’t worthy of having the last name ‘Sim’.” Jake explains. “Our family is not kind to each other. And when it comes to dating,” Jake sighs. “Breaking up with your significant other is the worst thing you could do. My relatives view breaking up as a sign of incompetence, a sign that you aren’t fit to take over the family business. It’s stupid, I know, and the last time I brought someone home, it ended in a disaster and -- and I want to prove them wrong. I want to show them that I can have a lasting relationship, and finally make my family proud of me.”
“What a fucked up family,” you respond in disbelief. “They really view breaking up that way? What, would they rather you cheat on your significant other while in a relationship?” Jake’s silence is your answer and you stare at Jake with wide eyes. “You’re joking. Right?”
Jake shakes his head.
“Would you -- would you cheat on me if I agreed?” You don’t know why you sound vulnerable.
Jake shakes his head aggressively, reaching for your hands. “No. No. I don’t -- I don’t like cheating. Or cheaters. That’s the lowest thing someone can do.”
“Okay,” you nod your head. “Why do you hate Hyunjae so much? Is it just because of the family rivalry?”
Jake sighs, chewing on his bottom lip. You try to not let that distract you from the situation at hand. “Well, yes. The rivalry doesn’t exactly help me have loving relationships with my family members but -- my previous girlfriend cheated on me with Hyunjae. They’re still dating now, and I always see her at family dinners and I just. I just want to prove to both of them that I can move on -- that I have moved on.”
You let Jake’s explanation simmer for a while. “Okay,” you say. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your girlfriend -- fake girlfriend.”
Jake grins, squeezing your hands. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me.” Silence fills the car and you sigh. “We need to map out the timeline of our relationship, sort out what are the dos and don’ts of this relationship, and how we will deal with the pieces we’re supposed to write about our blind date for the school magazine.”
Jake nods his head.
“I went out on a blind date last week,” you inform Jake. “It was Saturday. Soobin Choi. So we have had to meet after that.”
“Soobin Choi?” Jake gives you a look. “You don’t look like the type of girl to go for Soobin Choi.”
You scowl. “My friend set it up for me. And don’t worry, I don’t think I’ll ever be a Soobin Choi girl.”
“Who knows you went on this blind date?” Jake asks you. “Other than the people who arranged this for us.”
“Wonyoung Jang.”
“Wonyoung? You’re friends with Wonyoung?”
You nod your head and Jake grins. “My friend, Sunghoon Park? Do you know him? Anyway, he has a huge crush on Wonyoung.”
You giggle. “I think Wonyoung likes him back. They’ve been texting a lot recently.”
Jake gasps. “That’s who he’s been texting? That motherfucker wouldn’t tell me who it was.” Jake cracks his neck, “I’m so going to get him when I get home.” He then turns to you. “Only Jay and Sunoo know about the blind date. Do you think Wonyoung can keep quiet about how we actually met?”
You nod your head. “She loves keeping secrets.”
“Great,” Jake nods his head. “We threw a party last week on Saturday. What if you said you stopped by after the date?”
“Soobin dropped me back home, though,” you respond. “And lots of people saw me enter the dorm.”
“What about after?” Jake asks.
“I guess that could work. Wonyoung is a party girl. She could’ve taken me out to party after the date that ended in disaster, and I met you there.”
Jake nods his head. “I think that’s believable.”
“But didn’t you get screamed at by a girl for giving her chlamydia that night?”
Jake grins. “So that’s why you asked if I had chlamydia.”
“Whatever,” you huff.
“We’ll say we comforted each other about our shitty nights and knew then that we had a connection. I asked you out, and you said yes. What did you do Monday night?”
“I had classes until 4 PM.”
Jake nods his head. “I had football practice until five, and then I drove myself around for a few hours. Decompressing after a shit practice. I got McDonalds. You can’t go wrong with McDonalds after working off all the fat gathered up from having too much McDonalds.” Jake shakes his head in amusement at himself. “I could say I took you out then, but we didn’t go to McDonalds.”
“We went to the rollerskating rink,” you suggest. “I’ve always wanted to go on a date there.”
“Okay,” Jake nods his head.
“Hey what if -- what if we admit to dating each other on the pieces we write about our blind date?”
Jake looks at you, confused.
“I applied for the blind date on Saturday. Before I “left” for Enha’s party. And I got the notification that I’d been chosen on Wednesday. After we supposedly began dating. We could say we mentioned that we applied for this blind date thing to each other, and realized we were the two people chosen. Doesn’t that sound believable?”
“That works. I applied for the blind date on Friday.” Jake’s smile slowly grows. “This is all working out!”
“That way, we won’t really be lying about the blind date if someone asks,” you tell Jake.
Jake holds his hand up for a high five. You slap it, sharing an excited grin with Jake. Everything was falling into place. “OK, we have our story settled, now are there any boundaries you want to mention? Though, if we want to keep this believable I have to be able to kiss you. On the lips. A lot.” Jake looks shy as he mentions this. “I’m -- I’m a very affectionate boyfriend. Or hook up. I like to kiss, so we’re gonna have to kiss a lot.”
Your heart leaps to your throat. Kissing Jake on the lips whenever he felt like it? You would be stupid to not agree. “That’s fine,” you hope you come across as calm at the thought of kissing Jake. “I don’t mind. I don’t really have anything to mention-- except when should we break up?”
“Uh.”
“What about my birthday? February 14th. That gives us...A month and a bit of dating.”
“You were born on Valentine's Day?” Jake asks in awe.
You nod your head. “Yeah. Does that sound good?”
Jake nods his head. “For sure.” Then he frowns, biting his lip once again. You’re beginning to hate it when he does that because it only makes you want to kiss him. “Do you…Do you think you could come to every party Enhypen throws?”
“Why?”
“Heeseung’s girlfriend, Yunjin, always comes to our parties even though she’s not a partier herself.”
You shrug, thinking of Wonyoung always telling you to go out and live your life. “Why not?”
“And pet names? Do you like them? Baby? Babe? Pookie Pie?”
You shove Jake. “Pet names are cute. As long as they don’t go overboard, like Pookie Pie, or muffin, or anything relating to food.”
“Okay,” Jake holds out his hand for you to shake. “One last time; are you sure you want to be my fake girlfriend?”
“Yes,” you respond. “I have to tell Wonyoung about this, if that’s okay?”
“That’s fine,” Jake says, shaking your hand tightly. “I have to tell Jay and Sunoo anyway. I’ll pick you up at nine tomorrow? For the party? Wonyoung can come too.”
You agree. “Alright, I’ll take you home now.”
The drive home is filled with Jake’s Justin Bieber playlist. You decide that your first course of action as Jake’s fake girlfriend will be to change his choice in music. You will craft him a playlist to use whenever you’re in the car with him, so you can both listen to tunes you both enjoy.
After exchanging numbers, you hug Jake goodbye and fly up to your dorm, eagerly bursting in and scaring the shit out of Wonyoung.
“Wonyoung,” you exclaim, heaving for air, “you will never believe what just happened.”
—-
jake 🤍
5 mins away :)
After you receive Jake’s text, you send yourself into a frenzy, pacing your small dorm with Wonyoung sitting on her bed, watching. “Oh my god, this is a mistake. I should’ve never agreed to fake date Jake. Fuck.” You look at Wonyoung, halting your pacing. “I fucked up badly and you’re not going to say anything?”
Wonyoung smiles at you. “I think this will be a good thing, Y/N. Think optimistically! Who knows, you could develop lifelong friendships because of this.”
You cuss out Wonyoung and resume your pacing, jumping at every loud sound. You weren’t prepared for tonight -- how were you supposed to act like you were in love with Jake when you literally only met and talked to him yesterday? You weren’t an actor, and you were a terrible liar.
Your phone buzzes. “He’s here,” you tell Wonyoung. “Can’t I tell him I’m feeling sick?”
Wonyoung shakes her head, sliding off her bed and throwing you the leather jacket you took from Youngeun. “No, put that on, and let’s go get fucking wasted!” Wonyoung cheers loudly and you roll your eyes, tugging the leather jacket over your red corset top.
Jake was scrolling through his phone when you walked up to his car. You rap your knuckles against the window and Jake looks up, breaking out into a grin when he sees you. You walk around to the passenger’s side and slide into the car, hearing whispers of Justin Bieber playing in the background.
“Good evening,” Jake greets. “You look nice.”
Your hands fiddle with your short black skirt, trying to stop the blush from heating up your cheeks. “It’s nothing,” you respond, “just something Wonyoung picked out for me.”
At the mention of Wonyoung, Jake turns to look behind him, grinning at Wonyoung. “Hey, I’m Jake. It’s nice to finally meet you. Sunghoon talks about you a lot.”
You watch Wonyoung blush. “I hope it’s good things.”
Jake giggles. “It’s only ever good things about you, don’t worry.” He then settles back down and looks at you. “Are you ready, Y/N? You can back out if you want, there’s always another party you could go to.”
You shake your head. “I’m fine. Let me play some music, though, enough Justin Bieber.”
Jake drives you and Wonyoung back to his frat to the tune of One Direction’s discography. You were surprised to find out Jake knew most of One Direction’s songs. You’d finally found common ground with Jake, and your chest warms at the thought.
The street is packed with cars, and late party-goers walking on the road, but with skilled ease, Jake maneuvers his way to the frat and parks the car up the driveway without a hitch. The music dies along with the car and is replaced with bass-booming music. The whole frat looks like it’s shaking. Jake turns to you and smiles, “I have some things to check up on, so take your time, alright? I’ll get you in a few minutes.” With a wink, he climbs out of his car and races into the frat, dapping up a few guys on the way in.
Immediately, your nerves skyrocket. You began to second-guess yourself, and your fingers returned to fiddle with the edge of your skirt. Noticing your nerves, Wonyoung speaks up, reaching through the gap between the driver and passenger seat for your hand. “You got this, Y/N. You better become an Oscar-winning actress as soon as you step out of this car. Your whole college career depends on this exact moment.”
You scowl at Wonyoung, pinching her wrist. “Some best friend you are,” you huff.
“Tough love,” Wonyoung shrugs.
“Tough love my ass.”
“Look, Y/N, I’ll be by your side the entire night --”
“--Don’t lie, Wony --”
“--For most of the night. But, you’ll be fine. You work well under pressure and remember, if in doubt, just kiss the life out of Jake. Making out is the best way to draw and lose attention simultaneously.”
Jake appears suddenly, knocking on the window and beckoning you out. Wonyoung climbs out first, striking up a conversation with Jake as you work up the nerves to exit Jake’s car. After inhaling and exhaling a few times, you open the car door and step out.
The music is much louder now. The shouting and cheers of already drunk party goers fill the air, and everywhere you look, there is a girl in a short dress, or a short skirt, much like yourself and Wonyoung. “I’ll see you inside, Y/N. In the kitchen, getting a drink.” Wonyoung squeezes your shoulder and walks across the lawn, smiling at a few people whom you’ve never seen interact with Wonyoung in your life.
Next to you, Jake touches your shoulders and turns you to face him. His smile is warm and it soothes your nerves. “Just stay by my side, alright? Stand next to me and look pretty, that’s easy, right?”
You smile. “I suppose.”
“Great,” Jake kisses your forehead and intertwines your hands together. He squeezes once, and then leads you across the lawn, pausing every now and then to talk to unfamiliar faces to you, but familiar faces to him. Eventually, you reach the frat and Jake pauses, looking at you for assurance before pushing forward.
His grip on your hand becomes firmer as he guides you through the large crowd of people filling the frat. Loud voices shout in your ear, and sweaty bodies knock up against your own. You begin to grow hot beneath Youngeun’s leather jacket.
You and Jake reach the kitchen, and you see Wonyoung standing with your friends. Warmth floods you and the nerves dissipate. Jake leads you over to the counter swimming in red cups and assortments of alcoholic drinks, along with some kind of alcoholic punch.
“Jungwon wanted to try making some weird alcoholic punch,” Jake informs you, bending down to shout his words against your ear. “I would suggest avoiding it. What do you want to drink?”
Jake offers his ear to you, still bending slightly so he is able to hear you over the music. “A White Claw. Black cherry flavor.”
Jake nods his head, drawing away. “Got it, Y/N.” he kisses your cheek. “I see your friends eyeing you. Go talk to them while I scavenge for some White Claws.”
You approach your friends, a blush rising to your cheeks as they all give you a knowing look. “Were you just with Jake Sim?” Yoon practically shouts, her cheeks already a bright red, courtesy of the red cup she holds in her hand. “Were you holding hands?”
“He kissed your cheek, Y/N!” Jiwon exclaims, her eyes wide and dimples appearing as she shouts at you. “What the fuck?”
You blush and dip your head. You felt self-conscious for whatever reason. “We’re dating,” you say loudly, avoiding eye contact. All of your friends, bar Wonyoung, gasp loudly and their voices clamber to be heard over the voice of Nicki Minaj rapping in the song Beauty and the Beat.
“When the fuck did this happen?!” Hikaru exclaims.
“Monday,” you respond.
There’s more shouting and you look to Wonyoung for guidance. She gives you an assuring smile and a small bout of confidence surges through your veins. “We met at a party last week,” you continue to explain. “Wonyoung brought me after my failed date with Soobin.”
“I can’t believe you managed to get cuffed -- and by Jake Sim at that,” Yoon explains, astonished.
You frown. “What’s that supposed to mean, Yoon?”
“Oh! No offense to you!” Yoon says, realizing how awful her words sounded. “It’s just -- ever since he broke up with his last girlfriend, Jake’s been known to just sleep around. He hasn’t been in a committed relationship in a year and a half.” Yoon eyes you carefully, “just. Be careful, Y/N, I don’t want him to break your heart. You’re very precious. Too innocent for his kind of world.”
“I’ll be fine, Yoon,” you say to the girl, breaking out into a smile. “Jake takes care of me well.” You peer over your shoulder, catching sight of Jake leaning against the counter, chatting up a girl who grins, leaning forward to run her hand up his arm. Your heart drops and hurt immediately floods your chest.
You guess you spoke too soon.
Or not.
Jake catches your eye. “Hey, baby!” He shouts, drawing the attention of the girl sliding her hand up his arm, and everyone in the kitchen. “You wanted a black cherry white claw, right?” He holds up the can and winks.
You smile back. “That’s the one I wanted! I knew I could count on you, Jake!” The girl immediately retracts her hand, and the kitchen breaks out into loud voices, all saying the exact same thing -- Jake’s with Y/N?
You excuse yourself from your group of friends, who all grin at you, and bound over to Jake who is waiting for you. Without thinking it through, you rise to your toes, wrap a hand around the back of Jake’s neck, and bring him in for a kiss, savoring the feeling of Jake’s lips against yours.
You grab the white claw from Jake after the kiss, crack it open, and take a long sip. The alcohol cools you down immediately. “What was that for?” Jake asks you, amusement highlighting his face.
You shrug, not sure if your cheeks were hot because of the leather jacket you were wearing, or because you kissed Jake without thinking. “Just felt like it.”
Jake scoffs and leans down, stealing a kiss for himself.
“What was that for?” You ask him, repeating his words.
Jake repeats your own words, coupling it with a shrug as well. “Just felt like it.”
“I’m feeling hot,” you admit to Jake, “Is there anywhere I could put my leather jacket?”
“You could put it in my room.”
You give Jake a look and he snorts. “There was no other intention behind those words. We can just deposit your jacket in my room, and then join the party. Perhaps go dancing? Or we could socialize. It’s up to you, really. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
If you were able to see yourself, you think you would find stars in your eyes as you follow Jake out of the kitchen, his hand tightly gripping your own.
It’s well after one in the morning when you find yourself kissing Jake on one of the many couches in the frat. His arm is wrapped lazily around your waist as he keeps you close, his lips moving against yours in tandem. You explore Jake’s mouth with a vigor you didn’t even know you had, and you happily relish in the taste of the vodka shots Jake had encouraged you to take moments before you pulled him in for a kiss, which led to your fourth makeout session ever.
Someone clears their throat loudly and you and Jake break apart, chests heaving and eyes unable to look away. You’re the first to avert eye contact, looking at the stranger in front of you. The silver hair is immediately recognizable. Sunghoon Park towers over you and Jake, with Wonyoung gripping his bicep tightly, swaying slightly. She looked dazed.
“You’re Y/N?” Sunghoon looks to you for confirmation.
You nod your head, feeling as if you were floating. You’re pretty sure you’re tipsy. “Who’s asking?”
“Wony’s a bit drunk.” The use of Wonyoung’s nickname doesn’t slip past you. Nickname terms, huh? You think to yourself. “I think she should go home.”
“I’ll take them home,” Jake says, draping an arm over your shoulder and pulling you back against him, your body flush against his. “I’m the sober driver for tonight.”
Sunghoon snorts. “I totally believe you.”
Jake scowls. “Scout’s honor! I didn’t touch a drop of alcohol.”
“I’ll believe you. Get Wonyoung home safely.”
“Aye Aye captain,” Jake salutes, and Sunghoon whispers something to Wonyoung, who smiles and nods her head. Jake pushes himself off the couch, and then helps you up, giving you a gentle smile and moving hair out of your eyes.
Pressing a kiss to your forehead, Jake says, “Let’s get you home, Y/N.”
—-
You were still reeling from the party on Saturday. You don’t know what overcame you -- maybe it was the alcohol invading your bloodstream and the fact that all the attention was on you, that made you kiss Jake and cling to him while you danced.
Your phone lights up with another text from Jake. You had texted him throughout Sunday. He checked in a few times on Sunday, making sure you were feeling okay. Jake’s care for you made your heart expand times ten, but you had to remind yourself that this was all fake -- that none of this was real.
jake 🤍
Where are you?
you
library
in one of the study rooms
jake 🤍
What room?
you
third floor, twenty one A
jake 🤍
Ok. See you soon ❤️
Your heart pounds in your throat. You weren’t sure what you were going to do when Jake turns up in your study room with a large smile and hopeful brown eyes. He arrives quicker than you expected, opening the door and grinning at you.
“Hey Y/N,” he greets, slipping into the chair beside you.
“Hi,” you greet back quietly, focusing on your laptop in front of you. Silence embraces the room and your leg shakes beneath the table. You didn’t know how to work around Jake. He was an enigma. He was a puzzle -- a one thousand-piece puzzle that would take hours, if not days to figure out. He was a puzzle that came in a blank box with no photo to show you what the puzzle was supposed to look like.
“I’m sorry,” you blurt suddenly, unable to handle the silence. “I’m sorry about Saturday. I don’t know how to handle myself around you. I don’t know how to do relationships because I’ve never been in one, especially a fake one at that. It’s just -- it’s just so hard and confusing and I feel lost and. And. I’m sorry if I did anything weird or wrong or --”
“Y/N,” Jake interrupts your ramble. “You apologize too much.”
“Right. Sorry.”
Jake gives you a look and you avert your eyes.
“It’s okay, Y/N. You didn’t do anything wrong on Saturday. You were fine. I guess I’m also at fault for partially pushing you to join me at the party when we really haven’t spent any time together outside of that one blind date.” Jake reaches for your hands. “I’m here to help you, Y/N, we can work out how this fake relationship works together. First, you have to tell me a little bit more about yourself. Like, we should ask each other deep-hitting questions.”
You look at Jake and return his smile. “What are these deep-hitting questions?”
Jake hums in thought. “Like…What’s your favorite color?”
You snicker. “That’s a deep-hitting question?”
Jake nods his head, dead serious. “So? Your favorite color?”
“I like yellow,” you respond.
“Alright. Yellow. Any particular reason?”
You shake your head. “It’s a nice color. Warm color. Happy color. What’s your favorite color?”
“Red,” Jake responds. “No particular reason, like you. I just like how it looks. Not bright red, though, a dark deep red. Maroon is a nice color as well.” Jake reaches for another question. “What’s your family like?”
“I have a mom and younger sister. My dad passed away when I was young,” you tell Jake, your voice taking on a gentler tone. “My mom is my biggest inspiration. I look up to her a lot. She raised my sister and I all on her own. I was three when my dad passed, and my younger sister was one. I don’t really have many memories of my father, but I have plenty of my mother never giving up. She’s the reason I’m where I am now. She sacrificed everything for me.”
“She sounds amazing,” Jake responds, his tone matching your gentle one.
“She is. I talk to her and my younger sister every day.”
“How old is your younger sister?”
“She’s fifteen. She’s a freshman. Her name is Myeong.” You tilt your head as you look at Jake. “What about you? What’s your family like?”
“My mom and dad are…very pushy and controlling. My dad wants me to graduate and take over the family business, and my mom is very eager for grandkids before she dies. They’re only proud of me when I accomplish something big, and my mom likes -- or well, used to control everything about my life when I was living under her roof.” Jake sighs, “but my older brother, he’s the only person I love in my family. He was always there for me, and always protected me. I love him a lot.”
Jake shifts in his chair and straightens his posture. “Ouch. I just brought the mood down. Sorry. Your mother and sister sound like fun.”
“It’s okay, Jake,” you comfort the older boy. “And yes. They’re very fun to be around. I can’t wait to spend winter break with them.”
“Right, winter break is next week.” Jake hunches back over. “I have to spend Christmas with my family. It’s not gonna be fun, especially since everyone has caught wind of our relationship.”
“You can do this, Jake,” you tell him with an encouraging grin, “If you need to escape though, call me and I’ll pretend to be having a meltdown so you can come over to mine for some reprieve. We usually watch all the Santa Clause movies after our Christmas dinner.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jake says, “are you hungry?”
You nod your head. “I was about to ask you if you wanted to take me to get some churros.”
“Right!” Jake stands as you begin to pack up your things. “I’ve been meaning to ask you for your bank details. I need to pay you.”
You look at Jake and frown. “I don’t want your money, Jake, seriously. It’s okay to not pay me.”
Jake shakes his head. “I feel bad for using you like this, though, Y/N. Please let me pay you, it’ll help ease my guilty consciousness for getting you involved in this mess.”
You sigh. “Fine. But I’m moving all the money you give me to a different account and not spending a single dollar.”
“That’s fine, as long as I’m able to pay you.”
After zipping up your bag, you pull out your phone and give Jake your bank details. “Now that that’s finished, I have something to tell you,” You step out of the study room with Jake trailing behind you. You let Jake fall into step beside you, and reach for his hand. “I’m thinking of making you a playlist to play whenever you drive me around because I’m planning on taking advantage of having you at my mercy.”
Jake smiles down at you. There’s a hint of fondness hidden in that smile. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, Y/N. What songs were you thinking of putting on the playlist?”
“I’m keeping Justin Bieber off,” you retort jokingly.
Jake gasps and wretches his hand out of yours. You giggle and pout, reaching for Jake’s hand. “I was joking! You’re such a baby, Jakey poo.” You reach up to pinch his cheeks and Jake bats your hand away, intertwining your hands back together instead.
“It’ll be a surprise,” you tell Jake as the elevator doors open. “But I’m making sure it’s songs that both of us will enjoy because I’m such a great girlfriend.”
Jake rolls his eyes, but his smile gives away his fondness. “Of course you are, baby.” His eyes light up as if a light bulb went off above his head. “By the way, happy one week!” He kisses your cheek.
You roll your eyes. “Sap.”
“Only for you,” Jake responds.
—-
A few days later, you’re staring at a large frat. It’s your first time seeing the Enhypen frat up close during the daytime. You wouldn’t even be able to tell Enhypen throws massive raging parties from judging the outside appearance of the frat. The grass is neatly cut, and the bushes growing around the perimeter are groomed to near perfection. Someone obviously has a bit of a green thumb in the frat.
You walk up the porch steps and knock on the bright red door that feels rough beneath your knuckles. It doesn’t take long for the door to swing open, revealing Jungwon Yang. You know quite a bit about Jungwon Yang, since Wonyoung grew up with Jungwon and you’re Wonyoung’s best friend. It surprises you how many mutual friends you and Jungwon share, yet you’ve never once spoken to him.
“Hey, Y/N,” Jungwon greets, pulling the door open wider to allow you in. “Jake’s in his room.”
“Hey, Jungwon,” you greet back, letting the boy shut the door behind you. You slide off your shoes and straighten up. “Where is Jake’s room?”
“I’ll show you. How are your classes going?” Jungwon makes conversation as he leads you through the spacious frat. It’s clear to you that this is a legacy frat. Everything screams wealth. You feel sorely out of place, but you’ll prefer to keep these thoughts to yourself.
“They’re going good. A lot of work, but I like it. It keeps me busy.”
“I’ve never been this busy,” Jungwon says with a small smile. He climbs the stairs, you following closely behind. “Didn’t you go to Jake’s room during the last party?”
“I don’t remember,” you admit sheepishly. “That whole night feels like a fever dream. I was really nervous the entire time.”
Jungwon nods his head. “You know, from what Won told me about you, I never expected you and Jake to date. You two seem like total opposites. I hope you don’t take offense.”
“None taken,” you tell Jungwon. “And I have to admit, I felt the same way, but somehow the words ring true; opposites do attract. We work well with each other.” You don’t know where this load of bullshit was coming from, but anything to make Jungwon believe what you have with Jake is real.
The door to the bathroom swings open and Sunoo Kim steps out. Your heart pounds in your ears as Sunoo’s sharp eyes latch onto your figure. The older boy genuinely intimidates you. His facial features are incredibly sharp, and his words are even sharper. He holds grudges for a long time, and he’s a known gossiper. Sunoo’s reputation across campus is an intimidating one, but you also know from Wonyoung that he’s one of the nicest, kindest, and cutest boys she knows. “Don’t let his resting bitch face scare you,” Wonyoung advised. “He’s just fiercely loyal and protective of his friends, that’s why he has that reputation.”
“Hello, Y/N,” Sunoo says.
“Hey, Sunoo.” Your hands begin to sweat. God, sorry Wonyoung, you think. But Sunoo scares me.
“Here to see Jake?” Sunoo asks you, not unkindly.
You nod your head. “He invited me over to study. I have a test tomorrow.”
“I don’t think you’ll get much studying done with Jake,” Sunoo states, and once again, he wasn’t being mean or judgy. It just seems like a simple observational statement -- he knows Jake better than you, having grown up with the older boy. “Keep the noise down.”
Your cheeks flush and Jungwon snorts. “No need to be so bitchy, Sunoo.”
“Sunghoon used up all my face wash,” Sunoo groans, his face transforming into a pout you’ve never seen the boy wear. He looks extremely soft and squishable and Wonyoung’s words about Sunoo bounce around your head. Maybe you truly don’t have a reason to be so afraid of the older boy.
Immediately, your hand goes for the shoulder bag you were carrying, and you pull out the newly bought face wash that was haphazardly lying about. “Here,” you hold out your face wash. “Take this.”
Sunoo stares at your outstretched hand. “We use the same face wash brand! Do you just carry your face wash around with you everywhere?” Sunoo’s gaze pierces your soul and you immediately flush bright red. You really need to get your blushing situation under control.
“I -- I don’t carry it around with me. I just stopped by the quick mart on the way here to buy it since I had run out of it. But here, you can take it. I’ll just buy another on my way home.”
“Really?” Sunoo asks.
“Yes,” you shake the face wash in the air. “Take it.”
Sunoo’s face splits into a grin, completely transforming all his sharp edges into soft edges. Sunoo’s truly a different person when he smiles. “Thank you, Y/N. You’re very kind.”
“It’s nothing,” you mumble.
A door at the end of the hall is wrenched open and Jake pops his head out, eyes focusing on the group of three standing around the bathroom. “What’s taking you so long?” Jake groans. “I miss my girlfriend. Stop hogging her.”
“Whatever Jake,” Sunoo scoffs. He steps back into the bathroom. “I hope to see you around often, Y/N,” Sunoo tells you with a smile, and then he shuts the bathroom door.
“There’s Jake’s room,” Jungwon tells you, pointing to Jake. “Play some music if you’re going to do something other than studying.” Jungwon leaves you a blushing mess in the middle of the hallway.
“Y/N!” Jake calls, beckoning you over eagerly.
With quick steps, you reach Jake in milliseconds. Jake grins down at you and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. Pulling away, you look at Jake with a frown. “What was that for? There’s no one around.”
Jake pulls you into his room in lieu of an answer, shutting the door with a thump. “Was Sunoo nice to you?”
You nod your head and drop your shoulder bag onto Jake’s desk. “I gave him my face wash. I think I scored some points with him for that.”
“You had face wash in your bag?” Jake asks, grabbing his football and leaping onto his bed, beginning to throw the football up into the air and catching it.
“I bought some on the way over. I was running out,” you answer, pulling out the chair at Jake’s desk and taking a seat. “Are you going to study?”
“Eventually,” Jake responds. “Did you finish making that playlist?” He pushes himself into a sitting position, gripping the football tightly and displaying an excited expression on his face.
You can’t help but smile. “I did. Want to see?”
Jake nods his head, his blond hair flopping messily. You pull out your phone, unlock it and pull up the Spotify playlist, handing your phone over to Jake. “You can scroll through as I study,” you tell Jake. “Let me know what you think. I added a lot of songs.”
“Woah. Forty-eight hours,” Jake looks at you. “That is a lot of songs.”
You grin, running a hand through your hair to tie it up. “I guess that means you’re legally obliged to hang out with me for forty-eight hours.”
“Don’t tempt me,” Jake grins back.
Silence embraces the room and for once, it’s not awkward. You easily get enraptured in your studying, hearing Jake ooh or ahh or let out a small giggle as he scrolls through the playlist you made solely for Jake to play whenever you’re in the car with him.
After some time, Jake finally speaks up. “I really like the playlist, Y/N.”
You spin around in Jake’s desk chair. “Really?”
Jake nods his head. “I can’t wait to play it.”
“I’m glad. It took me a couple of days to curate. I’m happy you like it.”
“Of course, you made it, Y/N, so that means I’ll like it instantly.”
You groan and fall back into the desk chair. “Shut the fuck up, Jake.” Your tone was clearly teasing, and you’re glad Jake is able to make out the teasing because he laughs loudly.
“Was Jungwon nice to you as well?” Jake asks as he places your phone back on his desk. “Because sometimes he says shit without realizing how harsh it is.”
“He was nice as well, no need to fret, Jake. If they’re your friends I like them immediately.”
As you wait for Jake’s response, a loud banging sound floats through the air, followed by someone shouting a familiar name. “HEESEUNG!” Someone shouts after banging loudly. It’s quiet for a few seconds before the banging and shouting start again.
Jake groans and you leap up to open his door, curious to see who was making a ruckus. You scan the hallway and catch sight of a young boy who was incredibly tall. His blond hair glows brightly and he has a baseball bat and glove tucked beneath the arm that wasn’t doing the knocking.
“Cut it out, Riki,” Jake groans exasperatedly.
“No. He didn’t show up to play baseball with me,” Riki grumbles, continuing to smack the door.
“He spent his entire night revising his thesis with Jeongin and Beomgyu,” Jake responds. “Let him rest.”
Riki finally looks over at Jake, ready to respond, but when he sees you everything seems to pause. Riki stops smacking the door and the words poised at the tip of his tongue slide off. “Woah, is that Y/N? Your girlfriend?” He squints and assesses you. “You could do better than Jake, you know, Y/N.”
“Riki you better shut the fuck up,” Jake threatens.
“You play baseball?” You ask Riki.
“What does it look like?” Riki responds snappily.
“Riki,” hisses Jake.
“Yes,” Riki responds, his tone much nicer albeit exaggerating for Jake’s sake. “I play baseball.”
“That’s cool. Could I play with you?”
“What?” Riki looks bemused like he’d never thought you would offer to play baseball with him.
“Heeseung’s obviously sleeping and you probably shouldn’t disturb him because writing a thesis is hell on earth, so why not play catch with me? I used to play softball for my high school.”
“Softball and baseball are different, though,” Riki deadpans.
“Not really,” you shrug, stepping out of Jake’s room. “The only differences are the gloves, balls, bats, and how you throw the pitches. Other than that, everything is the same. In fact, I used to play baseball with the kids in my neighborhood, and with my cousins whenever I hung out with my family.”
“But you don’t have a glove.”
“I do,” Jake says. “Just play with her, Riki.”
“Fine. I’ll meet you downstairs. We’ll head to the baseball pitch.” Riki slinks down the stairs and you pop back into Jake’s room, watching the older boy rummage around for his baseball glove.
“You don’t have to do this, Y/N,” Jake tells you.
“I want to,” you reply, “if it gives Heeseung more time to rest and keeps Riki distracted -- by the way who even is Riki?”
Jake finds his baseball glove with a triumphant smile. He chucks it to you as he says, “Some kid we picked up off the street. You better hurry downstairs, Riki doesn’t like to be kept waiting. He’s very impatient.” Then, with a shake of his head, Jake mutters, “Teenagers.”
“Aren’t you gonna come down?” You ask Jake. “It would be nice to have you with us.”
“Yeah, I’ll meet you guys there. I need to find my cap.”
“Alright, see ya soon baby,” you salute Jake and walk out of his room, bounding down the stairs and finding Rik waiting for you. “Sorry for keeping you waiting,” you tell the boy, hurriedly slipping on your shoes.
Riki shrugs. “It’s fine.”
You step out of the house and walk to the baseball pitch in silence. You find out the baseball pitch is only a few minutes away from the Enhypen frat. It was built next to a park, so there were a few kids playing on the playground.
“You’re Jake’s new girlfriend, huh?” Riki finally says something as you both warm up. You don’t know how you’re going to play baseball with Riki, so you just follow whatever warm-ups he does.
“Yeah,” you respond. “And you’re his friend?”
“Obviously.”
“How old are you?”
“I turned eighteen last week on Friday.”
Your eyes widen. “Oh shit, Jake and I went out last Friday. Sorry for stealing him from you.”
Riki shrugs. “It’s chill. We hung out before and after his date.” You lapse into silence once more. “I like you better than his previous girlfriend,” Riki takes you by surprise as he grabs his bat and practices swinging a few times. “She was really rude. You’re not rude.”
“Thank you?”
“She never played baseball. Always said it would ruin her manicure.” He glances at your nails. “Aren’t you afraid of ruining your manicure?”
“I’m going to my nail tech next week. I don’t really care. Plus it gets tiring wiping your ass with a manicure sometimes.”
Riki stares at you and you immediately regret saying what you said seconds ago. Riki snorts, “You’re so much better than Francesa. She hated it when we would have farting contests.”
You stare at Riki in disbelief. This kid you think. “You’re still in high school aren’t you?”
“What gave it away?” Riki asks.
“You’re still having fart contests.”
Riki scowls.
—-
“Do you have to throw a party for literally every single accomplishment?” You ask Jake, finding yourself back at Enhypen on a Saturday night. Wonyoung was dancing with Sunghoon on the dance floor while you and Jake rested against one of the walls, observing the party.
“Throwing parties is fun, Y/N,” Jake responds. “Especially if you’re celebrating the end of exam week and the start of winter break.”
“I guess celebrating the end of exam week is worth throwing a party.” You sip the alcoholic drink Jake got for you, and watch as Wonyoung laughs over something Sunghoon said. “Wanna go to your room?”
Jake raises his eyebrows and you roll your eyes. “You look tired, Jake, and you aren’t engaging in conversations like you usually do at parties. Let’s just go to your room to talk for a bit.”
“Alright,” Jake shrugs, taking your hand and pulling you up the stairs. You ignore the looks that are being thrown your way. Not everything is about getting laid.
Entering Jake’s bedroom, some sense of comfort embraces you and you feel relieved at the sudden change in environment. Everything feels much nicer in Jake’s room, even if you could still hear the music, albeit muffled.
“What did you want to talk about?” Jake asks, as you both peel off your shoes and slip beneath his light blue comforter, legs immediately tangling beneath it.
“Tell me about your childhood,” you answer. “You haven’t really told me anything.”
“Of course. You’ll tell me about yours after?”
“Any questions you have, I’ll answer honestly,” you grin.
“I would say my childhood was like any other, but I was born into a wealthy family with a trust fund already waiting for me when I turned eighteen,” Jake starts off, making you giggle lightly. “I don’t necessarily have a lot of happy memories of my childhood. But the ones I have only mostly involve my older brother, Jaehyun.”
“What’s your happiest memory with him?”
“Probably when I was six and he was ten, our nanny took us down to the beach. I remember staying at the beach for hours at a time whenever we went. There was also this small forest of trees a little bit further down the beach, and my brother and I would always explore in the small forest, picking up sticks and pretending to hunt down aliens that were planning to take over the world. Time always slipped away from us.”
You watch as Jake floats away from you. It’s like he’s in a different dimension as he recites this story to you, a gentle, happy look you’ve never seen appearing on his face.
“And this one time, it started to rain while my brother and I were playing in this forest, and we got lost. My brother found us some shelter under this large tree, and I started freaking out but my brother comforted me. He told me that he was going to take care of me, no matter what. I stopped crying after that and trusted everything my brother told me and we eventually made it out of the forest. My nanny was worried sick about us, and we never went back to that beach.”
Jake is brought back to you and smiles. “We were lost for fifteen minutes, Y/N, and for ten of those minutes, I was genuinely happy because I had my brother with me, guiding me through life. Jaehyun has always wanted the best for me and has always supported me in all of my endeavors. I don’t have a lot of people like him in my life.”
“That’s really sweet, Jake, I’m glad you have someone like that in your life.”
“Anything else you want to know, Y/N?” Jake asks.
“How did you meet the boys in Enhypen? Did you know any of them before coming to college?”
Jake laughs. “Obviously it’ll take us days for me to explain my close relationship with all thirty of us, but I’ll tell you about my closest friends. The ones you’ve met already.”
“I love a good story,” you say eagerly, pulling the comforter up higher.
“I grew up with Jay and Sunghoon. Our families were closely intertwined, so it just made sense for us to grow up together. They’re like my brothers. I met Heeseung and Sunoo in elementary school. I had heard a lot about Heeseung from Jay since they’re like, distantly related or something, and Sunoo was a friend Sunghoon made while learning how to figure skate. I got along well with them as well, so we all began hanging out. I met Jungwon and Riki in middle school. Riki is the son of one of Jay’s dad’s business partners in Japan. He came to Korea during the summer and stayed with Jay. He eventually applied for a transfer program when he was sixteen, so that’s why he’s around now. Jungwon is just some kid Jay latched on to during Taekwondo practice and never let go.”
“That sounds a lot like a found family novel I would find in a library,” you tease. “But it’s really sweet how you all found each other.”
“I guess it is. They’re my lifelong brothers. But, enough about me. What about you, Y/N? What was your childhood like?”
“It was normal,” you reply, teasing Jake who rolls his eyes. “I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up, which I was fine with. I liked being left alone. I think I was just scared of making friends because they might leave me like my father did. But, I don’t feel that way anymore. I’ve made a lot of friends since arriving at college.”
“What’s your happiest memory?”
“Right now, my happiest memory is meeting Wonyoung for the first time,” you tell Jake. “I was so scared moving out of home, and I was scared that I wouldn’t…experience the world my mom talked about whenever she brought up her college years, but I met Wonyoung during move-in day, and I think my life has changed.” You nudge Jake’s shoulder, “you know, if I hadn’t met Wonyoung, I don’t think we would’ve met.”
“Crazy how the world works,” Jake says.
“Very crazy,” you agree. “Did you sleep with plushies when you were younger?”
Jake shakes his head. “Nah, did you?”
A timid smile spreads across your face. “Yeah. I slept with a lot of plushies. I guess I just liked having something to hug and keep me warm while I slept.”
“You’re so cute, Y/N,” Jake coos, pinching your nose.
“Fuck off, Jake.”
There’s a long silence before Jake starts to talk again. “You know, we’ve known each other for a week and I’ve told you more about myself than most people close to me know.”
You look at Jake in surprise. “Really?”
Jake nods his head. “It’s...easy talking to you, Y/N.”
“I could say the same about you,” you murmur.
“I guess,” Jake starts slowly, leaning forward, his hand cupping your cheek, “we were meant to meet.” His lips are a whisper away from yours. “It’s our fate.” And then he’s kissing you. It’s a gentle kiss, a kiss unlike any you’ve had before. Jake doesn’t make any move to rush the kiss, and you don’t either. You’re both perfectly content to take your time kissing each other.
Jake breaks away and shifts your positioning so you’re half on top of him. He cups your cheek again, pulling you back in for a soft kiss, while his other arm wraps around your waist. Both of your hands are threaded through Jake’s hair, and all you can hear is Little Mix’s Love Me Like You.
—-
The cold of the ice rink hits you suddenly. A chill zips up your spine, and you grip Jake’s hand tighter. It was the first day of winter break, and you and Jake were on a double date with Yunjin and Heeseung. You’d all agreed to go ice skating for the date.
“When was the last time you went ice skating, Y/N?” Yunjin makes conversation as Jake and Heeseung talk about some Pokemon game they had played recently. Yunjin looked pretty today. Her hair was pulled into a low ponytail, with a few strands curling around her face, and her makeup was light. She was wearing cute pink leg warmers that you eyed with envy.
“Probably when I was…fifteen? I think we went ice skating for a school trip,” you respond. “What about you? When was the last time you went ice skating?”
“A couple weeks back,” Yunjin says smiling. “Heeseung likes to ice skate so we often swing by when we have nothing to do.”
“You’re probably really good then.”
Yunjin laughs. “I’m mediocre at best. Heeseung’s really good though. But, then again, Heeseung’s good at everything.”
“Talking shit about Heeseung again, Yunjin?” Jake asks, joining in on the conversation.
“Yes, because that’s all I do, Jake,” Yunjin retorts sardonically.
“Do you know what size skates you wear, baby?” Jake directs his attention on you, his nose a light red already.
“Um, maybe a six?”
“Woah, you have small hands and feet,” Jake exclaims.
“Rude,” you whack Jake’s chest with your free hand.
“No, it’s cute,” Jake says with a small smile. “You’re super cute, Y/N.” He kisses the tip of your nose and lets go of your hand. “I’ll go with Heeseung to get your skates. Go find us a place to sit.”
Yunjin snakes her arm around yours and pulls you away from Jake, laughing loudly at something Heeseung had whispered to her.
“You and Jake are so cute,” Yunjin says when you finally lay claim on a row of chairs. “You’ve only been dating for what? Two weeks? And you’re already this cute?” Yunjin sighs, “The honeymoon phase is the best part of a relationship. Hee and I have been dating for…woah has it been two years already? We’ve been dating for two years and I don’t think we’ve left the honeymoon stage yet.”
“Yeah,” you agree, not really knowing what else to say.
“How did you meet Jake again?”
“Oh, at one of Enhypen’s parties. We both had shitty nights -- I had a failed date and Jake got accused of giving someone chlamydia -- and we comforted each other. Jake likes to say we had an immediate connection, so he wasted no time in asking me out.”
“Aww,” Yunjin coos, “love at first sight! I wish I got to experience that. Heeseung held a grudge against me for the longest time before he ever admitted his feelings to me.”
“Heeseung holds grudges?” You were pleasantly surprised. “He doesn’t seem like the type to hold grudges.”
“I was a special case, apparently,” Yunjin jokes. “But really, Heeseung’s the sweetest, most romantic guy I’ve ever dated.” Her eyes dart over your shoulder, and her grin only gets wider. “Jake’s a really good guy too, if you give him a chance.” She looks back at you and reaches out to squeeze your shoulder. “And it looks like you are giving him a chance. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look this happy.”
You don’t have time to respond, because Jake takes a seat beside you, dumping your skates onto your lap. “Here you go. Do I get a thank you kiss?”
“If you insist,” you grumble, leaning forward to lay a quick peck on Jake’s lips. “Now help me put them on.”
Yunjin and Heeseung head onto the ice first, leaving you alone with Jake as he laces up his skates after helping you. You nudge Jake’s knee with your own, a sly smile slipping onto your face. “We have a love at first sight story, huh? Does this mean you loove me?”
“Damn,” Jake curses, “how did you find out? Was it that easy to tell?” A smile that matches the one you are wearing slips onto Jake’s face. “Jungwon told me I was being too obvious.”
You snicker and wrap your hands around Jake’s bicep, inching forward to rest your head on his shoulder. “Well, there’s no need to be nervous, Jake, because I love you too, my sweet sugar plum.”
“Sweet sugar plum? Where did that come from?”
“You don’t like it?” You ask, pouting slightly.
“I hate it.”
You turn your head to muffle your giggles against Jake’s shoulder.
“Y/N, you know I won’t leave you, right?” Jake asks in a soft tone.
“Hmm? Where did this come from, Jake?” You pull your head away from Jake’s shoulder to look at him.
“I was just thinking about what you told me on Saturday,” Jake admits. “I’m not gonna leave you, Y/N.”
“Even after our break up?” You don’t like how insecure you sound. “We’ll still be friends after our break up?”
Jake nods his head. “Of course.”
You smile, kissing Jake’s cheek. “Great. Let’s go skating now, Jakey, I need an excuse to hold your hand for a few hours.”
Jake lets you pull him up from the chair. “You could just ask to hold my hand, Y/N.”
“But where’s the fun in that?” You reply, grinning eagerly.
—-
“Why are we carving pumpkins, again?” You ask your sister. It was Christmas Eve and you were sitting at the dining table with a large pumpkin parked in front of you. Your younger sister was sitting next to you, tongue poking out of her mouth as she concentrated on carving her pumpkin.
“Because you weren’t home for Halloween,” your sister responds, not taking her eyes off her pumpkin.
“Halloween was three months ago, Mye. It’s Christmas Eve, shouldn’t we be helping Mama in the kitchen?”
“We are!” Myeong refutes. “We’re making decorations!”
You throw Myeong a pointed look. “Carving pumpkins? For Christmas decorations?”
Myeong scowls. “No need to be such a grinch, Y/N. Sorry I missed carving pumpkins with you.”
You sigh and place down your scalp. “I missed carving pumpkins with you too, Myeong.”
Your younger sister turns to you, her eyes soft and wide. She reminds you of a baby deer. “Really?”
You nod your head and Myeong breaks out into a grin, throwing her arms around you and hugging you tightly. “It feels so lonely at home without you, Y/N. I’m so glad you’re back home for winter break.”
You hug your sister back tighter. “Me too. I missed you and Mama a lot. Especially her food. I mostly eat ramen and toast.”
Your sister giggles and draws out of the hug and starts to carve her pumpkin again. “What is college like, Y/N? Have you made any friends?’ Myeong wiggles her eyebrows, “Have you gotten a boyfriend?”
You snort. “A boyfriend?” You try to ignore your cheeks heating up. “Are you crazy, Myeong? I have no time for a boyfriend. I did make some friends, though.”
“Oh yes, that Wonyoung Jang girl?”
“How do you know about her?”
“You posted her on your Instagram story a couple of times, Y/N,” your sister deadpans, rolling her eyes.
“Oh, right. But yeah, Wonyoung’s my friend. And all her friends are my friends as well.” You don’t know why your chest swells with pride when you mention your friends. “I have a large friend group, Mye.”
Myeong smiles. She looks genuinely happy for you. “I’m glad, Y/N.”
You turn back to your pumpkin and continue to carve in silence. Your mother was in the kitchen, humming away to whatever song was on the radio as she baked some Christmas cookies. The warm cheer of Christmas wraps you up warmly. You were happy to be back home with your mother and sister, carving a pumpkin while your mother made cookies a few feet away. You were afraid leaving for college would change everything, but it had changed nothing.
“But, seriously Y/N,” Myeong breaks the silence, “you have had to at least kiss a guy at one of the parties you went to with Wonyoung!”
“Well, I did,” You drop your voice and lean in closer. “Lose my virginity.”
Myeong gasps loudly, your mother looking up from where she was placing cookie dough on a tray. “Everything okay, girls?”
“Yes,” you say, smiling. You look at Myeong who was staring at you, completely taken by surprise at your confession.
“Really?”
You nod your head.
“What was it like?”
You blush and bury your head in your hands. “Myeong -- why -- why would you ask me that?”
Myeong shrugs. “Curiosity.”
“It was fine,” you grumble. “It was just a hook-up, though, and I haven’t had sex since then.”
Myeong pouts. “You’re no fun.”
“No, I’m just choosing to be safe. College parties are swarming with STDs.” Your phone begins to ring loudly, cutting off your mother’s humming and Myeong’s words. You steal a glance at who was calling you -- Jake’s contact name fills your screen and you can’t control the large smile that graces your face.
“I’ll be back,” you tell Myeong. “I have to take this.” Grabbing your phone, you exit the dining room and start up the stairs to your room. “Hey,” you greet Jake, pressing your phone to your ear. “What’s up?”
“Y/N, hey,” Jake’s voice is soft as he talks. “How are you?”
“I’m doing good. What about you?”
Jake sighs. “Well, I would like to leave, but I promised my mom and dad that I would stay for their Christmas dinner and I like to keep my promises, so.” If Jake were standing in front of you now, he would end his sentence with a shrug. Instead, he punctuates this sentence with another sigh.
“That sucks,” you murmur, shutting your bedroom door, and resting against it. “What is so awful about this Christmas dinner anyway?”
“It’s not really a Christmas dinner,” Jake explains. “It’s a business dinner, under the guise of a company Christmas dinner. My dad’s investors bring their families to our house for this Christmas dinner, but all they do is talk business while their wives make small talk and the kids sit at the table and eat in silence. Jay used to come, but his father wised up and decided to go on vacation during Christmas, which upset my father for a few years.”
“That is awful.”
“But it’s only for one night,” Jake sounds defeated. “What about you? What do you do for Christmas?”
“Not a lot,” you tell Jake. And it was true -- your family didn’t do a lot for Christmas. You all woke up quite late on Christmas since you and Myeong were no longer kids and the thrill of opening presents was slowly wearing off. Your mother made some pancakes for breakfast, and then the three of you headed down to afternoon mass. You weren’t religious, but your mother liked going so you and your sister accompanied her. You know how often your mother used to pray back when you were younger and she was fighting tooth and nail to keep her family afloat.
After mass, you would stop by a few shops to just pick up extra miscellaneous items. Then your mother would begin Christmas dinner prep and your relatives from your mother’s side would start turning up as soon as it hits 4 PM. They usually stay as late as midnight.
“That sounds….a lot more fun than my Christmas,” Jake laughs softly.
“It is fun,” you reply, laying down on your bed and staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars you and Myeong stuck on your ceiling years ago. “After dessert, we all watch The Santa Clause trilogy.”
“I remember you telling me about that,” Jake hums. “I’ve never seen those movies, what are they about?”
“I don’t want to spoil anything, Jake,” you tease. “We’ll just have to watch them together at some point.”
“I’ll take you up on that, Y/N,” Jake’s tone was just as teasing. “I should let you get back to whatever it was you were doing before I called. I just wanted to hear your voice before I went insane inside this house.”
“Call me whenever Jake. I’ll always pick up.”
“Okay, I will. Talk later, Y/N.”
“Bye, Jake.”
—-
It was a little past eight when Jake calls you again. It’s Christmas, and you’re sitting at the dining table with your relatives. Dinner was served a couple of hours ago, but the conversation at the table was too good for anybody to think about cleaning up the mess displayed in front of you.
Your Uncle and Aunts were still helping themselves to the last bits of your mom’s lasagna. Dessert still had to be served, and your mother was looking for a way out of the conversation she was having with your grandmother.
Your phone cuts through the conversation you were having with your cousin.
“Who’s calling you, Y/N?” Your cousin, Lila, asks, trying to take a peek at your phone.
“Oh, it’s no one. I’ll be right back,” you sneak out of the dining hall and down to your bedroom. “Jake, hey.”
“Y/N, sorry if I disturbed you from your movie watching,” Jake greets.
“No, we’re still eating,” you assure Jake. “What’s up?”
“I-- I was wondering -- ah fuck, I don’t know how to ask this,” Jake admits.
“Just ask,” you encourage. “It’s okay, Jake. It’s just me.”
“Do you think I could come over? To your house?”
“Oh, Jake.”
“I’m sorry. You don’t have to say yes. I’m sorry for asking, I just can’t be here. I just can’t do it. No one else would pick up. I’m sorry for asking, Y/N.”
“It’s okay, Jake. And you’re more than welcome to come over. My mama feeds all my friends that set foot in this house. I’ll send you my address.” Your heart hurts for Jake. You can’t imagine how awful it must be for Jake to be in a house that doesn’t feel like home.
“Thank you, Y/N. Really.”
“Don’t mention it. Just arrive safely, ok? And text me when you’re leaving.”
“Okay. See you soon, Y/N.” The line goes dead before you can respond. You share your location with Jake, and pocket your phone, padding back downstairs to the dining room. Your mother had finally been able to leave the conversation with your grandmother and was now in the kitchen, dumping empty plates in the sink and fixing dessert onto fresh, clean, plates.
“Mama,” you step into the kitchen, keeping your voice low. “My friend from college is coming over. I hope that’s okay, he needed -- he needed to get away from his family for a while.”
“What’s his name?” Your mother asks, looking up from where she was plating the Christmas cookies she had made while you were carving the pumpkins.
“Jake Sim. He’s…my friend.”
“Jake Sim? Does he have any relations with Hana and Jaeho Sim? The CEO of Sim Corporations?”
You smile wanly. “They’re his parents, mama.”
“Then, he’s more than welcome inside my house, Y/N. I went to school with his parents, I know how tough they can be.” Your mother shakes her head. “They were both forces to be reckoned with at college.”
“You knew them?” You ask, surprised.
“Of course, I know them, Y/N. Everyone knew everybody back then. Should I set out a plate for him at the table?”
You look at the already crowded table. Myeong laughs loudly with one of your aunts. “Do we even have room for another chair?”
“We can make room,” your mother answers with a sly smile. “Do you know if he’s had dinner yet? Because I don’t want to just serve him dessert while he’s here.”
“Uh, I’ll ask him when he gets here.” Your phone dings with a text. You had two unread texts, both from Jake. One was sent eight minutes ago, telling you he’s left. The most recent one was Jake telling you he’d just parked. You wonder how close Jake lived if he was only an eight-minute drive away.
“He’s here,” you tell your mom, just as there’s a knock at the door.
“Go answer, I’ll make some room.”
You nod your head and turn away, eyes widening as Myeong rises from her chair. “I’ll get it!” You shriek, dashing out of the kitchen and down to the door. You throw the door open and your eyes widen at the sight of Jake.
“Y/N, hey,” Jake grins.
“Jake -- your -- your hair.”
It was black. His hair was black. You struggle to organize your thoughts as your eyes drag down the rest of his body. Jake was clearly dressed up for some formal event. He was wearing blue jeans with a white buttoned-up blouse tucked in, accentuating his waist, and a navy blue blazer.
“Decided to go back to black,” Jake answers with a grin. “Maintaining my blonde hair was tiring.” He peers over your shoulder. “Can I come in? Or did your mother --”
You shush Jake and step onto the porch, letting the front door fall shut. “No, you’re welcome in. I just -- I told them we were friends. They don’t know we’re….y’know? It just -- it just gets tiring lying all the time, and I don’t like lying to my mama and Myeong and --”
“It’s okay, Y/N,” Jake cuts you off. “I think it’ll be nice to not have to act like we’re dating for once.”
“Okay,” you smile relieved. “My mama knew your parents in college.”
“Really?” Jake asks.
“Yeah, she was more than willing to let you spend Christmas with us.”
“I already love your mom.”
“Alright, come on in, Prince Charming. Ready to meet my family?”
Jake adjusts his blazer and you have to pretend like your heart didn’t speed up. “I was born ready,” and for the final kill, he runs a hand through his hair. You almost faint on the spot. Since when was Jake this attractive to you? I mean, obviously, he was handsome, but you’ve never felt your heart palpitate like this before.
You’ve never seen your family so still and silent the moment you step into their line of sight with Jake. “Is that your boyfriend, Y/N?” One of your cousins teases you, earning a couple of snickers from your other cousins.
“Uh, no. This is Jake Sim. He’s my -- my friend from college. His parents are overseas at the moment, so I invited him over for dinner. Sorry he’s late, you know how assessments get during winter break.”
“He’s very handsome, Y/N. Are you sure you’re just friends?” One of your aunts asks, out of pure curiosity.
You flush bright red. “Aunty!”
“It was just an innocent question, dear,” your uncle, and her husband, defends. “Come join us, Jake. Have you had dinner yet?”
Jake smiles politely, taking a seat in the new chair that was beside yours. You steal a glance at your mother who smiles back smugly. “I have had dinner,” Jake responds. “My mom bought me some samgyeopsal before she left.” He plays along with the cover story you made up for him.
“Oh no, samgyeopsal won’t do you any good, honey,” your mother cuts in. “Do you like lasagna?”
“I love lasagna,” Jake responds, his eyes twinkling.
Your mother hpmhs, “You should have some of my lasagna. My lasagna is the best lasagna in all of America.”
“Too bad Aunt Yeeun ate it all,” snickers your cousin, Daisy.
“Too bad, indeed,” your mother says, glaring at her older sister.
Yeeun pokes out her tongue in retaliation, and the whole table dissolves into laughter. You glance at Jake, who stares back and smiles, his foot nudging yours beneath the table. “It’s okay, Mrs. L/N. I’m not that hungry anyway.”
“Call me Areum, honey,” your mother says, flushing. “And are you sure? I’m sure I could find something that wasn’t eaten by my good-for-nothing siblings.”
Grumbles are heard but your mother pays no attention to them. “If I can’t find anything, then I’ll have to serve you dessert. Will you be okay with eating my Christmas cookies? They won Y/N’s middle school’s Christmas fair baking competition three years in a row. However, when Myeong brought them to the fair, they decided that darn Dana’s cookies were better. I’m pretty sure the judges were being biased. Or racist --”
“I’m hungry,” Myeong interrupts, whining. “Fuss over Jake later! Let’s go serve everyone dessert now!” Myeong leaps out of her chair, sending you a look, before tugging on Areum’s arm. “Come on, mama! Jake can decide for himself if he wants to eat or not.”
Your mother sighs. “Alright. I’ll be back with dessert.”
The table launches into conversations with your mother gone, bombarding Jake with questions to which he answers all with ease. Beside you, Lila nudges you. “Was he the one who called you?”
You nod your head. “Yeah.”
Lila smirks. “Just friends, huh?”
You groan and kick her shin beneath the table. “Shut the fuck up.”
—-
The rest of dinner is spent happily. Jake easily converses with your relatives, and it seems like he gets along well with all of them. You hate the way your heart flutters at that thought. As Jake had said, it was almost like he was born to please your relatives, based on the way they smile whenever Jake responds to them with great enthusiasm.
Even your younger cousins enjoy Jake’s presence. He distracts them as the adults clean up and get ready for the movie marathon with pictures of his dog, Layla. He also plays them a couple of videos which gets your entire family cooing over the dog.
You sit in the corner of the living room, with a slight frown on your face. The older cousins were all hanging out together, thankful someone else was willingly distracting the younger ones. “Why the frown, Y/N?” Myeon asks you, drawing you out of your thoughts.
“Don’t worry,” you answer, schooling your expression into a neutral one.
“Jake Sim, he’s the son of that one CEO, right? Sim Corporations, or something?” One of your cousins, Daniel, asks.
“Yeah,” you nod your head.
“Damn,” whistles Daniel, “through Jake, you basically have connections to the entire corporate world, Y/N.”
“Good thing I’m not a business major,” you retort.
“But I will be next year,” Daniel responds. “Do you think --”
“If you want to use Jakes’s connections, you have to get buddy-buddy with him, Daniel. I’m not your lapdog.”
Daniel huffs. “Fine, loser.”
You grip the armchair pillow and whack Daniel with it. “I’m not a loser, freak.”
“Alright,” your uncle claps his hands loudly, “let’s get this marathon on the road! Adults, help yourself to some eggnog, minors, there’s some soda and juices for you. And yes, Daniel, we got you your gross dill pickle chips.”
Chaos descends as everyone fights for the best seats, the best drinks, and the best snacks. You’re content with staying in the armchair in the corner of the living room. It didn’t really give you the best view of the television, but you’ve seen these movies hundreds of times. You could practically recite every line of all three movies by heart.
Jake approaches you, holding two glasses of cola.
“Hey,” Jake greets, handing you one glass. “I feel like we haven’t had time to talk.”
“It seems my family is smitten with you, Jake.”
“I do seem to have that effect on everyone I meet,” Jake hums in agreement.
“Come on, let’s cuddle,” you say, pulling Jake onto the chair. “Unless you want to move closer. I know you wanted to watch these movies.”
“It’s okay,” Jake waves you off, “there’s always another Christmas to watch them with you.”
You ignore how your heart explodes, painting your body a lovesick pink.
After a lot of adjustments, you end up with your back pressed against the arm of the armchair, and your legs thrown over Jake’s lap. The first fifteen minutes of the movie had already gone by by the time you and Jake pay attention and instead of trying to catch Jake up, you ask him about his own Christmas dinner.
Jake told you it was the same Christmas dinner he’d been going to for twenty years, but it was the first time his older brother wasn’t there and Jake couldn’t handle not having his brother around, so he left.
“Thank you for having me,” Jake whispers.
“Thank you for trusting me,” you respond.
“How could I not?” Jake’s eyes were wide, “You have a trusting face.”
“Oh, so you’re friends with me for my face?” You scowl.
Jake muffles his giggles. “Yes.”
You huff and look away from Jake to watch Scott and Carol lean in to kiss beneath a mistletoe.
“Y/N,” Jake whispers. “I like you for your face and your heart.”
“Really?”
Jake nods. “Really.”
“Well, I like you for your money and your connections to the corporate world.”
“You don’t even major in business!”
“You don’t know that!”
“Y/N,” Jake gives you a pointed look and you sigh.
“Fine. I don’t like you because of your money or your connections, I like you because of your face and your heart.”
“Would you ever want to get married?”
You stare at Jake, shocked by the sudden change of topic. “What? Where did this come from, Jake?”
“My parents brought up marriage when they talked about our relationship. They said we shouldn’t date if we aren’t thinking about marriage.”
“Well, I mean,” you sigh, “if you ask nicely, then I’ll probably say yes.”
It’s silent for a few moments before Jake coughs loudly. You get stares from your sister and a few of your cousins, but you ignore them. “You -- you would want to marry me?”
“I mean --” you blink, confused. “That’s what we were talking about, right?”
“I was -- I was just asking if you want to get married. In general. Not to me.”
“Oh.” Your face flushes. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Jake intertwines your hands together and squeezes three times. “You’re cute when you make mistakes.”
“Shut up,” you groan.
Jake laughs softly, his eyes shining with adoration.
—-
“Do you think I could stay the night?” Jake asks you after he finishes saying goodbye to all of your relatives. The goodbyes took longer than usual because everyone was clamoring to talk to Jake. You didn’t understand all the fuss over Jake.
“Stay -- stay the night?”
“Or not. It’s okay, Y/N.”
“No --”
“You’re more than welcome to stay the night, sweetheart,” your mother cuts. “You’ll just have to share a bed with Y/N, our guest room is a bit.. preoccupied. I’ve been cleaning out the attic.”
Jake looks over at you. “I’m okay with sharing a bed. Are you? If not, I can sleep on the floor or just go home.”
You eye your mom carefully. She’s never been this open and welcoming to a boy staying the night. In your bed. “Yeah…I’m fine with it.”
“Y/N and Jake sharing a bed!” Myeong sings in a teasing voice as she bounces up the stairs. “I’ll make sure to turn on my white noise!” Both you and Jake flush a deep red while your mother scolds Myeong for her words.
“I’ll go find you some clothes, Jake,” your mother smiles warmly at the boy beside you and disappears up the stairs, leaving you alone with Jake.
“Won’t your parents be concerned about your whereabouts?” You ask Jake, leading him into the kitchen.
“I told them I was at Sunghoon’s,” Jake answers, leaning against the counter as you fill two glasses with water. He gratefully takes one of the glasses and drinks it all within seconds. “They won’t really be worried that much. They’ve never been the kind of parents to worry.”
You give Jake a gentle look and take the empty glass from him, rinsing it and making room for it in the dishwasher. “Your family is very fun,” Jake says, “they all…love each other.”
“I guess they’re fun. They can be a bit annoying and frustrating at times.”
“But you love them, though.”
“They loved you tonight, Jake.” You tell him, sensing the underlying tone of Jake’s words. You reach out to take his hand into yours as you stand at the bottom of the stairs. “You’re probably welcome to all family gatherings in the future.”
“Really?” Jake asks in slight disbelief.
“Would I lie to you, Jake? Everyone loved you tonight.”
In the darkness of the living room, standing in silence, you can feel Jake. Jake is all over you. You feel as though you’re one with Jake, and everything you think, Jake is also thinking. You feel and hear every inhale and exhale of Jake’s.
With his other hand, Jake cups your cheek, and you immediately sink into the feeling. “Y/N,” it’s like Jake is feeling the same as you. He doesn’t dare to raise his voice. “I --”
“Jake, would you like to take a shower?” Your mother stands at the top of the stairs.
You rip yourself away from Jake, clenching and unclenching your hand as your mind races. “Oh, yes, that would be nice, Areum.”
“I’ll go get you a towel,” Areum smiles and turns back around, heading for the linen closet.
Jake turns to you. “Y/N --”
“You should go take a shower, Jake.”
Jake hesitates.
“I’ll see you in my room.” You don’t think you’ll be able to handle talking to Jake alone for the rest of the night. You climb the stairs with speed, leaving Jake in the dust. Reaching your room, you pull out your phone and fire a text to Wonyoung, your heart speeding, finally realizing why yourheart races around Jake.
By the time Jake finishes his shower and stands in the doorway of your room, you’re changed and separating the bed in two halves with pillows you stole from your mom. “What are you doing?” Jake asks you, drying his hair with a yellow towel.
“When we’re sleeping, we need to stay to our sides. We can’t cross the pillow line,” you explain to Jake, slipping beneath the covers on your side.
“Why do we need halves all of a sudden?” Jake asks, throwing his towel over your desk chair. “We’ve never had halves like this when we’ve laid in bed together.”
Your face flushes. “That’s -- that’s different.”
Jake raises his eyebrows. “Is it?”
You scowl. “My house, my bedroom, my rules.”
Jake climbs into bed, making sure to keep to his side of the bed. “Goodnight, Y/N.” Jake gives you a sweet smile that disarms you completely.
“Fuck it,” you groan. You grab the pillows -- that had taken a lot of time to set up -- and you throw them to the ground. “I do like to cuddle things when I sleep, Jake. And since I removed my plushies for you to fit, I guess you could be a good substitute.”
Jake grins with a glint in his eyes that tells you he doesn’t believe your bluff. He opens his arms and you immediately curl up to his chest, your ear pressed to his chest, and there, you can hear his heartbeat. It’s beating rapidly and you allow your delusions to take over.
“Goodnight, Y/N,” Jake says, his voice close to your ear.
“Goodnight, Jake,” you mumble back.
—-
“Are you sure I look okay?” You ask Jake nervously as you sit in his car. A week after winter break ended, Jake had told you his parents wanted to meet you, and no matter how desperately you wanted to say no, you agreed to join Jake for dinner this weekend. You’re parked outside his parents’ house. It’s tall, and spiraling, and reminds you just how rich Jake was. You’re fretting over your look as if Jake hasn’t already complimented you a thousand times tonight.
“You look beautiful, Y/N.” And, as always, Jake’s words of affection make you blush.
“Alright,” you say, “let’s do this.”
Jake nods and squeezes your hand before letting go.
“Remember,” Jake says in a low voice as you walk up to the front door, gravel crunching beneath the uncomfortable high-heels Wonyoung shoved you into, “we can leave. Whenever you want. We don’t have to stick around for the entire night, I’ll make up an excuse if you want to leave, okay?”
You kiss Jake’s cheek in lieu of a response.
Jake doesn’t bother to knock on the door, he just pushes it open. A multitude of shoes sit in the foyer, and you turn to Jake who is helping you take off your coat. “How big is this family dinner, exactly?”
Jake gives you a sheepish smile. “My parents, uncles and aunts, and cousins. I don’t know if Jaehyun will be here though.”
You can’t help but feel sorely underprepared for this. Why didn’t Jake let you know beforehand that you would be meeting his entire family? Your stomach rolls over at the thought, and you feel nausea wash over you. An uncomfortable itch appears in your throat -- no cough or clearing of a throat removes that itch as you walk from the foyer to the dining room where your demise awaits.
“You didn’t think to tell me?” You mumble to Jake, half anxious, half annoyed.
“It slipped my mind,” Jake murmurs back and you withhold a scoff.
You can’t help but feel intimidated as you enter the dining hall, gripping Jake’s hand tightly. His aunts, uncles, cousins, and parents mill about the room, talking and laughing forcefully with each other. The atmosphere doesn’t at all feel comfortable. It’s a weird atmosphere, it feels tense and taut.
Hyunjae is the first to spot Jake. He breaks out into a grin and approaches Jake, a girl with dyed red hair follows behind, her eyes glued to her phone as she frowns. Next to you, Jake inhales sharply and his shoulders roll back like he’s prepared for an attack.
“Jake,” Hyunjae greets, the smile not slipping from his face. He looks at you and his smile only grows. “Y/N. What a pleasure to see you both here.”
“The same can’t be said for you,” Jake responds, his voice tight.
The red-headed girl finally looks up, pocketing her phone and taking a sip of her champagne. “Jake,” her voice is soft, tinkling. You don’t think you’ve ever seen more perfect eyes, nose, and mouth on someone before. “Who are you?” She asks, out of pure curiosity. Her eyes shine and you try to search for some kind of double meaning.
“Y/N L/N,” you answer, feeling your heart tremble beneath the eyes pinned to your face. “Who are you?”
The girl laughs. It’s high and tinkling, like her voice. “I’m Francesa Choi, nice to meet you, Y/N.”
Jake’s ex-girlfriend.
“Jaeyun?” A voice calls out. You watch as an intimidating woman walks over to the group. Her eyes are piercing, and her hair is black as the night. It doesn’t take much for you to realize this woman is Jake’s mother. Lagging behind her is Jake’s father. Pepper hair, creased lines on his forehead, and a frown. You wonder how Jake is able to be who he is with parents like these.
“This must be the Y/N you talk highly of,” her eyes darted to you, and then back at Jake, like you weren’t worth her time. You try to pry your hand from Jake’s, but he only tightens his grip further. You're sure he’s cutting off blood to your hand.
Jake’s father watches you silently. He doesn’t say anything, remaining behind his wife as she does all the talking; all the commanding.
“Are you going to introduce us to her?”
Jake clears his throat. “Mom, Dad, this is Y/N L/N, Y/N, this is my mom and dad.”
Your mother’s words echo around your head. “Does he have any relations with Hana and Jaeho Sim? The CEO of Sim Corporations? I know how tough they can be. They were both forces to be reckoned with at college.”
Jake’s mother -- Hana -- gives you a short nod. “Nice to meet you, Y/N, I hope I get to know you well tonight.”
Not I hope we get to know each other well. You learn something about Hana Sim very early on. She’s the authorization figure of the Sim household. She expects you to tell her everything about you, and you get nothing in return.
Dinner is served, and with Jake to your left and his ex-girlfriend to your right, your nerves skyrocket. Jake’s ex-girlfriend is pretty -- she even smells pretty. No wonder Jake dated her. As the conversation is passed around the table, you also learn Francesa Choi is smart. She’s pretty, smart, and confident. It’s clear, by the way Hana praises and smiles at Francesa, that she’s thoroughly beguiled by the girl.
When Hana Sims speaks to you, though, it’s dull. Hana appears to look bored as she decides to make conversation with you, and for the first time that night, the table falls silent. Every Sim wants to know about you, apparently.
“How did you meet my son, Y/N?” Hana asks, picking up her wine glass.
“I told you how we met --”
“I want to hear her talk, Jaeyun,” Hana cuts off her son.
“We meet at a party,” you respond, hands curling on your lap beneath the table. Your nails dig into your palms to keep you grounded. “It was love at first sight.”
Any normal family would coo over love at first sight, but the Sim family only shares looks. Looks that are clearly laced with judgment. Beside you, Jake offers no help. He doesn’t even reach out to rest his hand on your thigh. You feel alone.
“Love at first sight?” Hana muses. “So, you love my son?”
It takes a lot of effort for you to breathe. Your chest feels heavy like there’s something crushing it. You steal a glance at Jake and he doesn’t look back, content with admiring his plate of food in front of him. Your heart pangs.
“Yes,” you say, willing the nerves out of your voice. “I love Jake.”
Hana doesn’t look impressed. “You’ve only been dating for a month.” That’s not a question -- it’s a statement. “How could you fall in love that fast?”
“He’s easy to love,” your response is almost instantaneous, your mouth working faster than your brain. Your response is honest. In a way. And that shocks and scares you.
Hana still doesn’t look impressed. “Tell me a bit about yourself, Y/N. What’s your major?”
“I’m Majoring in Linguistics. This is my first year.” Your nails dig deeper into your palms and Jake continues to offer no support.
“So you’re…eighteen? Nineteen?”
“Eighteen.”
Hana nods, reaching for her wine glass and taking a sip. The silence is suffocating. Just how nosey and judgmental was the Sim family?
“And your family?” Hana asks, “Any siblings?���
“I have a younger sister, Myeong.”
“And your parents?”
“My dad passed away when I was three, so it’s just been my mom, me, and Myeong for as long as I can remember.”
Hana’s eyes narrow. You gulp and your heart hammers away in your chest. You feel a bad omen circling the air. Whatever is said next will either be your downfall or finally impress Hana.
“Did your mom ever get remarried?”
You shake your head. “No.”
Words tumble out of Hana’s mouth, and it sounds like Korean. The ground gives out beneath your feet and your heart drops out of your body. You don’t know Korean. Your mother never had the time to teach you, and she slowly lost her mother tongue. Your father died when you were young. You grew up feeling isolated, not really understanding where you fit in; you were Korean, but you didn’t speak Korean, and you’ve never been to Korea. But you had an American citizenship, so you were American, except you didn’t look American.
“I -- I don’t know Korean,” the words tumble out of your mouth -- the words were the bad omen you felt in the air moments ago.
If possible, the silence is louder than before.
“You’re Korean,” Hana states, her voice a foreign emotion.
“My mom and dad were first-generation immigrants,” you answer, your nails beginning to cut into your palm. “But my dad died before he could teach me, and my mom was always busy with work.”
“Have you ever visited Korea?”
“No,” you respond, Hana’s eyes cutting into your bones.
“I pity you,” Hana says, her words sharp like claws. Her eyes dart to Jake, and this time her words sting. “I thought I taught you better.”
Jake’s silence stings even more.
You were able to excuse yourself to the bathroom after dinner. You grip the edge of the sink and squeeze your eyes shut tightly, suddenly longing for the embrace of your mother. Hana’s words, her eyes -- her everything has you a shuddering mess. Who knew someone could make simple words sound so cruel?
The door swings open and Francesa steps in. She smiles and steps up to the sink next to you, pulling out some lip glass from her handbag. You watch her as she applies another layer onto her lips.
“That was a hard conversation to listen to,” Francesa says, her eyes meeting yours through the mirror.
“Yeah,” you mumble, not really in the mood to talk.
“It takes a lot to impress Hana.”
“Clearly.”
Francesa pats your shoulder. “I’m sure you will find something to impress Hana with.” You don’t know why but it sounds so condescending. “But I’m not surprised to see Jake hasn’t changed.” Francesa laughs to herself, finding something funny.
“What are you laughing about?” You ask Francesa.
“When we were dating, I was exactly like you when meeting his family. He threw you in the deep end, didn’t he? Told you were meeting his parents, but actually took you to a family dinner? And when his mother was grilling me, he was silent -- just like tonight.” Francesa sighs, turning to you. “He doesn’t have the guts to talk back to his parents. His older brother did, and that’s why he’s not at family dinners anymore.”
“I just..” Francesa trails off. “I just hoped tonight would be different, you know? You and Jake…you guys look happy and in love and I just thought that this would be the night where Jake finally speaks up and does something about the way his mother treats people.”
Francesa shakes her head, giving you a small smile. “It’s a shame your love couldn’t change that.”
“Why would I need to change Jake?” You ask, frowning.
“Oh, Y/N.” Francesa sighs. “Whenever I would come for a family dinner, Jake would sit in silence and let Hana pick at me, probing me to reveal personal secrets and shame me for them. She wanted to mold me into the perfect wife for Jake. Whatever flaw I had, Hana would take it and cut it up into a thousand more flaws, throw it back at me, and tell me I had to fix them all or else I would never be good enough for her son. Dating Jake made me hate myself, and him, so we broke up.”
“You cheated on him, though.”
“I did,” Francesa agrees easily.
“Why?”
“Hyunjae’s nothing like Jake.”
The drive home is silent. Jake attempts to speak, but after his fifth try, he stops. Your mind was a mess, recounting Hana’s sharp words, and Francesa’s story. Everything was a mess and you felt as if you never really knew Jake.
“Y/N,” Jake tries again.
You’re sitting in his car, outside your dorm. You don’t move to leave the car. You should probably confront the tense air before it gets worse the longer you continue to ignore it. You turn to Jake, trying to keep your emotions under lock.
“Jake,” you respond. “I think we need some space. Just for a few days.”
Jake looks confused. “What do you mean, Y/N?”
“What do you mean?” Your voice is filled with rage you didn’t know you had. Watching Jake shift away, regret fills you. “Sorry, Jake. Sorry.” You look away, out the front window, and this time the tears come without warning. When you look back at Jake, you’re crying silently, the hurt inflicted by Hana filling up the space where your heart used to sit.
“If you can’t tell your mother to shut the fuck up and stop prying into my personal life, then we can’t be friends, Jake. Your silence really hurt me tonight.”
Jake’s mouth opens and closes. He doesn’t know what to say, and for some reason, that hurts you.
“You didn’t -- you didn’t even offer support, like a hand on my thigh, or a hand to hold. You left me -- you left me alone tonight, Jake.”
“I’m sorry,” Jake says, but he doesn’t even look like he means it. He’s still confused.
“Just -- just don’t talk to me for a couple of days. Unless we need to act like a couple for some stupid event.”
“Y/N --”
You smile sadly at Jake. “Jake, you’re meant to be in love with me. Your silence at dinner told a different story.”
You climb out of the car, close the passenger door, and walk away from Jake.
—-
Three days. You haven’t spoken to Jake in three days. You’ve kept yourself distracted by hanging out with Wonyoung and your friends and actually completing your assignments before the deadline, and handing them in once the submissions open.
Deciding to give yourself a break, you take this chance to check your phone. Youngeun had sent you something on Instagram, and so you pause the game you were playing with Rei and check Youngeun’s messages. She had sent you someone’s story. Clicking on it, you watch the story and your stomach turns over. It was Jake with Francesa.
Normally, you aren’t one for presumptions and letting miscommunication get in between your relationships with those close to you, but when it comes to Jake, you can’t help but get insecure. He’s rich, he’s popular, he’s handsome. He can have anyone he wants, and yet there you were, faking dating him. And yet, there you were, falling in love with him.
Love. That word strikes you across your face. Love. Since when were you in love with Jake?
You recall the sudden development you felt over Winter break; you like Jake. And not in a fake way. You truly like Jake and it’s messing with your brain. You can’t handle Jake’s gentle touches and kind words, and you can’t handle his kisses and flirtatious remarks. This fake relationship is driving you insane and soon you feel like you’ll snap. You fear what the consequences would be when that day comes.
But when did love come into play?
The overwhelming emotions of love and like terrorize you. You click off the story where Francesa and Jake were sharing giggles and you leave Youngeun on seen. Nausea washes over you. Maybe this temporary space needs to be a permanent space.
You excuse yourself from your group of friends and walk back to your dorm. The chilly wind whips through the air and seeps through your hoodie, chilling you to the bone. Maybe you shouldn’t get too ahead of yourself, maybe you need to give Jake the chance to explain himself. Maybe you were just overreacting. Yes, Jake had let his mother embarrass you in front of his relatives, but that shouldn’t define who he is as a person. Right? Yes, Jake was hanging out with his ex-girlfriend who cheated on him, but nothing is happening between them. Right?
Your head begins to spin.
You stumble into the dorm and crash into Ricky. “Y/N!” The platinum blond exclaims, “I was just looking for you. Someone is here to see you.”
Immediately, you think of Jake. Has Jake finally realized what he did wrong three nights ago? Has Jake realized he loves you the way you love him? “Really?”
Ricky nods his head. “They’re in the common space.”
“Thanks Ricky,” you brush past the boy and with eager footsteps, you step into the common space -- only to falter.
Jake’s mother stands in the center of the room. Your heart stops and your breath catches.
“Mrs. Sim?”
The raven-haired woman turns at the sound of you calling her. She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Y/N,” she steps over to you. “Nice to see you again.” You knew these were false pleasantries. “How is college going?”
“It’s going well,” you respond stiffly. “Jake isn’t with me.”
Mrs. Sim chuckles. “Oh, I’m not here for my son.” Her eyes pin you to the spot. “I’m here to see you, Y/N. I value my son’s partners highly, and I think we should have a talk.” She gestures to the couch behind you. “Shall we sit?”
Hesitantly, you sit on the couch. Mrs. Sim relaxes in the spot next to you, and she pulls a white envelope out of her handbag and passes it over to you. “Y/N, I’ll be honest. I don’t think you’re right for my son.”
“What?” You draw your eyes away from the white envelope you were holding. “I’m not���right?”
“Korean heritage is valued highly in our family --”
“I’m Korean, Mrs. Sim.”
“But you cannot speak Korean.”
“But I can learn!” You refute.
Mrs. Sim raises her hand, silencing you. “There is more, of course. I just simply don’t think you and Jake will last. I am only saving you from heartbreak.”
“Mrs. Sim, I’m sorry but you don’t get to --”
“You feel as though you don’t belong in Jake’s world, Y/N. Am I correct?” Mrs. Sim’s eyes are narrowed as she addresses you, her voice one that commands to be listened to.
That is something you can’t refute. It’s something that had been bubbling up within you ever since that dinner -- ever since you realized just how rich Jake was. He lived and existed in a higher society you will never understand. In a society you can only dream of existing within. You don’t get the rules, and you don’t understand how to present yourself in that rich society Jake is ingrained in. You feel so out of place, and you’ve only attended a family dinner.
“With time, I think I can feel comfortable --”
“Y/N. You are not fit for my son. You should break up with him.”
You scoff. “What makes you think I would break up with Jake? I love him.”
Mrs. Sim sighs. “But does he love you? At dinner, it didn’t seem like he did. My son was more than happy to let you embarrass yourself.”
“Embarrass myself? That was -- that was your fault--”
“In that envelope is money. You should open it.”
You open it. It’s a check. Your eyes widen at the amount of money scrolled on the check. “What--what’s this for?”
“Break up with Jake and that money is yours.”
“I don’t -- I don’t want your money.” You throw the envelope on the ground. “I’m not cheap, Mrs. Sim.”
Mrs. Sim stands from the couch and brushes off her dress. “I have said what I wanted to say. I can only hope you listen to me, Y/N, and realize that you will never be the one for Jake, no matter what he says, or what you tell yourself.”
“Jake is his own person. He is twenty. He can make decisions for himself. Why are you still controlling him?”
Mrs. Sim glances over her shoulder. “My son is still green when it comes to the world. He does not know what is best for him because I sheltered him from the real world growing up.”
“He can make decisions for himself,” you repeat.
Mrs. Sim walks away.
A few hours later, with help of Wonyoung’s stalking skills and social connections, you find yourself back on Greek Row, and outside a frat house that was famous across campus because of their end-of-exams parties. Jake was at this party tonight with the rest of Enhypen.
Wonyoung was already chatting up some older college student and you head inside the frat yourself. It was already packed, horny and sweaty bodies pushing up against each other, and the smell of weed hangs suspended in the air. You start looking for Jake, and you immediately head for the back porch. You don’t find Jake there, however you find Sunghoon and Heeseung setting up a new game of beer pong. “Sunghoon! Heeseung!” You call out, rushing toward them. “Where’s Jake?”
Sunghoon beams at you. “Y/N! Hey! Jake took Sunoo to the bathroom. He’s wasted.”
“Awesome! Thanks!” You dash back into the house and climb the stairs, hoping there was a bathroom on the second floor of this frat. Pushing open every door, you only find bedrooms with two, or three people, making out on the beds. With apology after apology, your search for Jake and Sunoo and a bathroom is futile.
Then, a door at the end of the hall opens and out spills Jake and Sunoo. Your heart leaps in your chest, and you can’t tell if it’s in excitement or nervousness for what’s about to happen. “Jake!” You shout.
Jake perks up hearing your voice, and his lips break out into a massive grin. He abandons Sunoo’s side and rushes up to you, wrapping you in a warm hug. He sloppily kisses your cheek. “Y/N!” He was tipsy. “I missed you so much.” He holds you tighter and nuzzles his face in your neck.
This was going to be hard.
“Jake,” you say softly. “We need to talk.”
—-
You and Jake were sitting at a bus shelter near the frat house throwing the party. Your leg shakes as you work up the courage to end the fake relationship you have with Jake. You don’t know why you were hesitating all of a sudden. Why were you afraid of ending this relationship with Jake?
“Jake,” you start softly. “I think -- I think.” You inhale. You can do this. You can spit it out. “I think we should end the fake relationship.”
“Huh?” Jake tilts his head to the side. He really is a puppy.
“Jake. We need to break up. Or whatever.”
Jake’s eyes widen. “Break up? Why?”
This was the hard part. You’ve never dated someone so you’ve never experienced a break up before. How were you supposed to do this? How were you supposed to tell Jake to never contact you again because you don't fit in his world? You don’t fit beside him?
“I’m calling this whole agreement off,” you rephrase. You aren’t sure if this is an actual break up if you were never in a real relationship in the first place.
“Why?” Jake asks, and he looks sober. “We don’t have that much longer left.”
“I just feel like I did what you needed me to do. I stayed your girlfriend long enough to meet your parents. Now, it just feels pointless to keep this whole agreement going. I’ll transfer you back the money, and you can stop driving me around everywhere.”
“Y/N,” Jake says gently. He reaches for your hand and you retract it, dismissing the hurt on his face.
The thing about love; you don’t understand it. You’ve never understood love because you’ve never been in love. It’s confusing and tricky. Why does your heart beat a certain way around Jake, and not anybody else? You love your friends, sure, but it’s a different love to the one you feel with Jake. Love is weird, and confusing, and tricky, and unforgiving. You feel naive at the hands of love because it makes everything you thought you understood, more complex and hard to understand.
You used to know the difference between like and love and now you’re not so sure anymore.
You used to find love confusing, but now it’s complex with more instructions written in the fine print you never read in the first place. When your heart begins to beat a different tune, everything in you changes; how you behave, how you talk, how you dress, and how you look. Love changes you. For better or for worse.
“Jake, I don’t think we should stay friends after,” you admit, standing from the seat. The lamplight next to the bus shelter flickers slightly. A strong wind picks up and whips your hair into your face. Jake doesn’t move an inch, hurt and confusion plastered all over his face. “We’re two different people from two different families. We would’ve never worked out, no matter how badly I wanted this to be real.” The confession slips from your lips without a warning.
Jake looks anguished and he tries to reach for you again. You take a step back and the wind blows more harshly, rattling the bus shelter. “Jake. I don’t fit in with you. Or your family. I don’t fit in the world you’re living in.”
Jake tries to interrupt but you don’t let him. “It hurt me that night, when you offered no support, when you barraged me with your family dinner. I was underprepared, Jake, and I was left humiliated as your mother ripped my life apart in front of your relatives who I really wanted to impress no matter if they don’t hold value in your life.”
“Jake, I really, really like you.” You don’t understand the difference between like and love. Maybe you never will. Maybe you just really like Jake. “But we’d never work if this became real because right now, it’s fake, and I feel…” You shrug, unable to form a coherent sentence. “It’s just messing with me. And the dinner --”
“It was my mom, Y/N,” Jake interrupts, finally finding his voice. “You know how she is.”
“She’s manipulative and controlling. You told me yourself Jake,” you shoot back. “And I’m not looking for a fight Jake, I just think it’s time you actually put actions to your words. She shouldn’t still control your life. You’re twenty. Not sixteen.”
“Y/N --”
“Your mother humiliated me, Jake. She made me feel stupid for not knowing Korean.” Tears well in your eyes. “And you know what’s even stupider? She didn’t even believe for a second that you loved me. Your silence really spoke a thousand words, Jake. And not just for me.”
Jake sighs and glances away and towards the party that was happening behind him. “Is this because of the Instagram story Fran posted of us?”
You shake your head, bitterness spilling across your tongue. “No. I know you don’t like her like that, Jake. I mean, for a moment I was jealous but then I remembered she cheated on you and I know you’re better than that, Jake. And then I remembered, you didn’t tell me what ‘family dinner’ actually meant, and then you let your mother humiliate me in front of, pretty much, your entire family, and you’re still acting like you did nothing wrong when all I wanted was your support. Is that too much to ask for? I really tried to sell this relationship, Jake, but your mother saw right through us because of your silence.”
Jake drops his head, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”
You huff and the first tear drops. “Your family is really shitty, Jake.”
“I know.”
“And you can be better than them.”
“I know.”
“I really wished I didn’t feel so alone during that dinner.”
Jake raises his head. He looks pitiful. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“Don’t contact me, Jake, we’re done.”
Jake physically recoils at your words. “Y/N --”
“I hope I’m able to get over you, Jake. I really hope I am.” You step away from Jake, and above you, lightning crackles through the sky. “I had a nice time with you, Jake.”
Jake lets you go as thunder booms overhead.
—-
“Do you think I was overreacting?” You ask Wonyoung as you lie on your bed. It’s been a week since you last saw or heard from Jake and as much as you wish you didn’t, all you could think about was Jake. How stupid, immature, and hypocritical of you. “Maybe I was. Maybe it wasn’t that deep.”
Wonyoung hums. “No. I think you did good. You know what you want in a relationship, Y/N. You want someone who can stand up for you against his parents. Your reaction was valid.”
You roll over in your bed and face Wonyoung who was probably texting Sunghoon as she lay on her own bed across from you. “I miss him,” you admit softly and then promptly shove your face in your pillow to scream. “But I hate him for what he did -- but I really really miss him.”
“You liked him a lot, Y/N,” Wonyoung says gently. “Of course you’ll miss him.”
You roll onto your back again and stare at the ceiling. “He was nice to me. And kind. And thoughtful, and he was funny and charming and so polite and he made me feel warm and safe and comfortable and --” You look at Wonyoung who was smiling at you, her phone discarded. “I think I almost fell in love with him.”
“I think he almost fell in love with you too,” Wonyoung says.
You shake your head. “I don’t know about that.”
Wonyoung checks the time on her phone and gasps, leaping off her bed. “Fuck. It’s so late. I need to get going for my lecture. Do you want me to buy anything when I’m walking back?”
“Chocolate milk?” You ask Wonyoung. “I think I need chocolate milk.”
Wonyoung smiles and pats your shoulder. “Of course.”
You lie in bed for the rest of the day, thinking over your relationship with Jake. You hate to admit it, but to you, for the most part, the relationship felt real -- especially when Jake joined your family during Christmas. Nothing felt more real than you curled up on Jake’s lap, sharing laughter and trading jokes.
“Hey Wonyoung,” you ask a few hours later, after she’s returned with your chocolate milk. (The bottle is now empty as it lies at the foot of your bed.) “Do you think I was a bit too naive in the relationship? Sure, we’re only two years apart, but our maturity is probably ten years apart. Was I asking for too much?”
Wonyoung shakes her head. “You weren’t asking for too much. Jake was just giving too little. He wasn’t providing you with the emotional support a relationship needs.”
“But when we were alone,” you say quietly, “he did. He comforted me. He told me reassuring words and made me feel wanted. I don’t know why he did what he did at dinner. Clearly that’s a can I’ll never have the privilege of popping open or asking about.” Sighing, you squeeze your stuffed toy dog closer to your chest. “But I do think I was naive. I fell too fast for Jake. I am only eighteen, after all.”
“You fell first but he fell harder,” Wonyoung says.
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
You shut your eyes and sigh again. “When I think of Jake, I think of him spending Christmas with me and my family. He’s just…so happy. So fucking happy. And it makes me feel happy. See? I fell too fast, and too deep, and now I don’t know if I’ll ever get over him.”
Wonyoung laughs softly. “And why do you think he felt happy, Y/N?”
A light blush tints your cheeks. “I like to imagine he felt happy because he was with me.”
—-
Exam season creeps up on you fast, and to deal with your stress you start going out on runs -- like right now. With loud Olivia Rodrigo blasting through your airpods, you jog down the sidewalk of a quiet suburban street. Since summer is near, the sun burns brighter and sweat easily soaks you.
On this run, you bump into Riki.
“Riki!” You exclaim in surprise when you spot the familiar boy walking towards the nearby park that houses a baseball diamond. He’s carrying his overstuffed baseball bag and has headphones on, but at the sound of your voice, he whirls around and tugs them off.
“Y/N,” he responds, his voice smooth and neutral. “Wanna play baseball?”
So, you find yourself pitching to Riki and retrieving the balls he hits out into the field, deja vu washing over you. He doesn’t speak to you until the end. Concern that you’ve angered him washes over you as you watch him take a long sip of water from his water bottle.
“I’m not mad at you,” Riki says, wiping his forehead with a towel. “So can you stop looking at me like that?”
“Sorry,” you mumble, blushing.
“If anything, I’m glad you broke up with Jake.”
You gape at the younger boy and watch him back up his stuff. “What?”
“He needed this wake up call. He has so much personal shit going on in his life that he never had the balls to face, and I guess whatever you said to him when you broke up with him really slapped him awake. I’ve never seen Jake this happy, or appear this light, y’know? Like before, it felt like he was dragging this dead weight around with him but ever since he cut off his family and dealt with personal issues, it’s like that dead weight is gone.” Riki harshly shoves his baseball glove into his overflowing bag.
“I mean, you know Jake is emotionally constipated in a way.”
You snort. “Ain’t that the truth. We would only brush the surface level of his…childhood trauma. He would tell me measly things -- like how his parents never had time for him, and how his mother was extremely controlling and his father was demanding, but that’s all. We never, like, actually talked about his feelings.”
Riki nods his head, picking up his bat and swinging it through the air. “Jake’s actually talking about his feelings now, by the way. He’s been talking to his brother more recently and finally caved into Jay’s nagging and booked a therapy appointment.”
“Oh wow,” your eyes widened. “Therapy?”
Riki nods his head. “He wants to get better.” The look Riki gives you says everything.
Running back home, your steps feel lighter. You’re able to study with a clear mind and when you exit the exam halls you feel as if you just aced all those tests. You don’t know why, but knowing that Jake is working towards a better self, makes you feel happy. You’re glad Jake is working on himself, and has support all around him. You feel the urge to reach out to him, but you fight it away by keeping yourself occupied by hanging out with Wonyoung and your friends.
You occasionally run into Riki and Heeseung while out on your runs. They keep you updated on Jake, letting you know how he’s doing and what he’s doing. It’s nice to still be in touch with Jake’s friends, it’s nice to see that they don’t resent you for breaking up with Jake. Jay reaches out to you once, inviting you to his birthday party. You turn down the invitation and Jay says he understands. Then, he thanks you for taking care of Jake.
Your pride holds you back from unblocking Jake on Instagram so you create a burner account solely to keep yourself updated on Jake’s whereabouts during summer break. He takes Heeseung, Jay, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki back to Milan, Italy where they shop at Prada, eat tons of pasta and pizza, and get drunk on Italian wine. Based on the stories they post, the Milan trip was quite eventful.
The start of your second year approaches quickly and you still haven’t reached out to Jake yet. You’ve unblocked his number and drafted up a few text messages asking Jake if he wants to talk, or meet up, but you’ve never had the guts to send them. You’re afraid of the outcome, you’re afraid of finding out that Jake never wants to see you again, but you’d understand if Jake requests that.
It’s the last day before you move back into the dormitory. You’re lounging on the couch with Myeong who is watching Crazy Rich Asians while she paints her toes. You’re laser focused on your phone, struggling to come up with a text to send to Jake. You really want to see him again.
Someone knocks on your door.
“I’ll get it,” you tell Myeong, gladly distracting yourself from the daunting task you assigned yourself. Dressed in old, short, denim shorts, and a ratty old t-shirt that boasts Disneyland’s 50th Anniversary, you open the door. “Hi--”
Jake stands on your doorstep, holding a bouquet of red roses. His hair is slicked back. He’s wearing a white blouse that’s been paired with black slacks. He looks breathtaking. Literally. You can’t breathe.
“Y/N,” Jake smiles gently, and holds out the bouquet for you to take. “You look beautiful.”
You snort, still unable to move.
“Don't leave me hanging, Y/N,” Jake says.
“What are you doing here, Jake?” You finally find your voice, and your arm reaches out to take hold of the rose bouquet.
“I’ve done a lot of thinking,” Jake admits. “And a lot of that thinking has been about you.”
You stare at Jake, wide-eyed, and if you were able to see yourself, there’s probably stars in your eyes. You grip the rose bouquet tighter. “You’ve been thinking? About me?”
Jake nods his head. “About you. And our time together. And I realized that if we had spent more time together, I would have fallen in love with you.”
You feel faint. “Oh, wow.” Your mouth feels dry, and it’s hard to breathe.
“You’re very lovable, Y/N,” Jake’s smile is just as bright as the sun, and his eyes hold galaxies that are far prettier than the one you’re existing in. “And I’m sorry for making you feel alone. Friends or dating, I should never let someone feel like that. I’m sorry for not standing up for you.”
“It’s okay, Jake,” you laugh off the insanity you’re feeling. “I’m over it. Really.”
“I’m sorry for hurting you, Y/N.”
You smile softly, raising the roses to your nose. “It’s okay, Jake.”
Jake nods his head. “Alright. Cool. I’m -- I’m glad.” He looks up at the sky, with tense shoulders, and closes his eyes. He looks unsure of himself and you let out a small, amused giggle. Jake glances back at you, and everything in him relaxes. He inhales deeply. “So, I was wondering, Y/N, if you’d like to go out with me. Tonight. On a real date.”
It’s silent for a long time.
“You can say no --”
“You’re a very hard person to get over, Jake,” you admit.
“I am?”
You nod your head. “I think it’s stupid how you still occupy my heart.”
“It’s stupid?”
You smile. “Very stupid. But that’s okay, because it makes me stupidly in love with you.”
“Oh.”
“Give me fifteen minutes. Myeong’s watching Crazy Rich Asians, so you can keep her company while I get changed and --”
Jake cuts you off with a kiss. His lips are warm against yours. When he draws away, his eyes are like molten honey. It’s like he’s melting right in front of you, love oozing from every inch of skin that you can see. “Sorry,” Jake flushes. “I couldn’t help myself. You look really cute, Y/N.”
You draw Jake back in for another kiss.
#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen x you#enhypen jake#enhypen fluff#enhypen angst#enhypen imagine#enhypen imagines#enhypen au#sim jaeyun#sim jake#love me like you#jake sim#enhypen x female reader#enhypen x y/n
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Pretty boy | Ethan Landry x camgirl!reader
Summary: Ethan purchases a private session with his favorite camgirl
Word count: 2k
Warnings: smut, sex work, fingering/jerking off, brief use of toys,
Request: We know Ethan is a virgin. Do you think he would be the type to pay for a private video with a camgirl? I think he would be so shy and blushing. Maybe reader helps him get comfortable and he thank her for making him cum 🥺🥺
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
—
Sex work wasn’t the most glorious job, but opening an Only Fans account helped pay for your college tuition and other expenses. It wasn’t too energy demanding or time consuming — all you had to do was post pictures in lingerie and videos of yourself playing, and talk to your subscribers —, so it was perfect for a busy college student.
You got great tips from livestreams too. Every Tuesday and Sunday, you went live on your Only Fans and that’s where you made the most of your money. Aside from private video sessions. Sometimes, people send you gifts — lingerie sets, toys or accessories — for you to use in future posts.
Seconds after you hit the ‘live’ button, there were already over a hundred people watching. You sat on your knees, your hands lazily running up and down your bare thighs as you watched the numbers of viewers increase with every passing second.
‘’There’s so many of you today.’’
All the way in New York, your voice filtered through Ethan’s dorm room. He was alone tonight, so he was going to take advantage of the situation and…empty his manly bowels. He situated himself on his bed, his laptop on his bed and your beautiful face filling his screen.
‘’Do you like my new set?’’ you asked your viewers, rising on your knees to show off your panty better, making a show to toy at the thin straps on the sides.
The sight made Ethan’s cock strain against the material of his boxers. He lightly palmed himself over the material, wincing slightly at the small bursts of pleasure.
‘’You lot are needy tonight,’’ you pointed out, reading the chat. ‘’Pussyslayer has tipped me 20$ to take off my panties,’’ you read aloud. ‘’And an extra 5$ to play with my pussy. I will…in a few minutes. Can you be patient? Can you be a good boy for me?’’
Ethan typed fast.
goodboy01 Yes. Always a good boy.
You skimmed over the chat. ‘’I’ve got plans for tonight’s livestream.’’ You winked at your audience and reached behind on your bed, grabbing your sparkly pink dildo — a gift from a subscriber — and holding it up to the camera.
A heap of horny and needy men went wild in the chat.
‘’Where should I use it?’’ you asked, holding the phallic shaped object in your hand. ‘’Should I suck on it? See how deep it goes in my mouth?’’ You gave the tip a kitten lick while looking at your camera with hooded eyes. ‘’Or should I put it down here?’’ Your hand traveled down your body and this seemed to be the winner, seeing higher tips being gifted to you. ‘’Okay, okay. Thanks hardcock_69 for the big tip.’’
You chuckled, giving your subscribers what they wanted.
Sitting back, you spread your legs so everyone could have a good view. Your fingers traced the hem of your panties with a teasing smirk on your face, pushing the material of your panties to the side and slowly sinking the toy inside your pussy. Your lips parted in a silent sigh, feeling the girth of the toy stretching you.
‘’Fuck, feels so good,’’ you moaned out, your eyes clenched shut as you slowly started to thrust the dildo in and out. ‘’Feel so fucking full.’’
You continued putting on a show and Ethan could barely remember to breathe as he watched your lips wrap perfectly around the toy. It was an image that would be burned into his head. His sweatpants were pushed down and he tried his best not to moan — whimper — too loud, his hand wrapped around cock as he stroked at a generous pace.
‘’Don’t you wish it’s your big cock inside me?’’ you said to the camera. ‘’You’d fuck me so good, wouldn’t you, baby boy?’’
The tips were coming so fast, some smaller and some more generous, but the audience loved the interaction. You kept going, bringing your free hand to your clit and rubbing it, eliciting a higher moan.
Usually, you dragged out the livestream and interacted personally with your subscribers from the chat, but rent was close and you needed a little more money. So you came and announced that the livestream was going to be short.
‘’Unfortunately, I’m gonna stop here tonight…’’ The chat blew up with people begging you to stay longer and make them cum again or show your tits, but you ignored them. ‘’But if you want more, I will be available for a private video-chat. The places are very limited, so be fast if you want a private moment with me.’’
Looking down at his softening cock and the sticky mess on his hand, Ethan let his hormones type on his laptop and requested a private session. Using his dad’s money on a personal video-chat with a camgirl was utterly stupid, but you were insanely attractive and he really needed to get off — again. He was also dying to have you for himself.
At least for a few minutes.
It was only a few beats before you accepted and Ethan was then rerouted. What first popped up was a webcam that asked ‘join audio and video?’. He clicked on it and a black square appeared, telling him you’ll be there shortly.
While he waited, he tucked himself back into his sweatpants and wiped his hand with a tissue. He didn’t want you to know he had jerked off to your livestream less than seven minutes ago.
When you popped on the screen, Ethan was filled to the brim with lust. You had covered yourself back and had a loosely tied silk robe over your lingerie set.
‘’Holy shit, you’re beautiful.’’ The words had slipped and Ethan covered his mouth, embarrassed by his reaction.
You laughed softly. It was honest and innocent. ‘’Thank you,’’ you replied, smiling sweetly at the curly haired boy. ‘’What’s your name, pretty boy?’’
His flushed cheeks and doe eyes told you he was his first time doing this. It wasn’t your first time though. People tend to be shy and embarrassed at the beginning, and it’s your job to make them relaxed and safe.
‘’E-Ethan.’’
‘’Nice to meet you, Ethan.’’
Pulling your legs under you, you kneeled on the bed as you leaned closer to the laptop. Your cleavage was on the screen and Ethan’s mouth felt dry and his palms were sweaty, remembering how nice your tits were.
‘’I’ve been watching you for a while,’’ he confessed, then immediately regretted it.
‘’Have you? I love my faithful subscribers.’’ You applied a coat of lipgloss to make your lips look juicy. ‘’So,’’ you spoke up again, ‘’what can I do for you?’’
Ethan panicked at the question. He didn’t know what he wanted to see. He didn’t think of that when he clicked on purchasing a private session with you. ‘’Eh, I don’t know. What do you want?’’
‘’You paid for me, pretty boy. What do you want?’’
Most of the things he dreamed of doing to you — with you — were impossible to do through a screen.
You could see his eyes wandering down on the screen from your face to your breasts, so you started from there. ‘’Do you like my outfit?’’ you asked, untying your robe and giving him a better view of your bra. It was lacey and didn’t cover much.
Your hands slipped down your chest and you fiddled with the straps of your bra, teasing your young subscriber. You let them go and reached the underside of your breasts, pushing them up a bit more and letting him see your hard nipples through the lace.
The groan slipped from Ethan’s lips before he could help himself.
‘’You like my tits, baby? Maybe I should take off my bra?’’ you asked him. You removed your robe fully. ‘’What do you say, pretty boy?’’
He nodded and you undid the front clasp, releasing your breasts from the confine of the cups. You rid yourself of it completely, chucking it on the floor.
Ethan’s breath hitched and he reached to palm at the bulge in his sweatpants. ‘’Christ,’’ he cursed under his breath.
A soft grin curled on your lips and you leaned closer to the camera, giving him a great view of your breasts. ‘’You like my tits?’’ Your hands reached up to play with your nipples.
‘’Y-yeah. They're gorgeous.’’
Through your screen, you watched as Ethan’s hand reached below the camera angle and shifted uncomfortably. ‘’Are you hard for me?’’ The boldness of your question seemed to take him by surprise. He nodded. ‘’Show me.’’
Without hesitating, he got rid of his shirt and pushed his laptop back so you could see him, then pulled his cock out of his gray sweatpants. He opened his mouth to apologize for his size, assuming it wasn’t big enough, but you spoke first.
‘’Wow, it’s nice and big,’’ you complimented, swiping your tongue over your lips as your eyes flitter down to Ethan's hand on his dick, eyes sparkling at just how big it looked even in his hand. You had seen bigger dicks, but you were surprisingly impressed by your shy subscriber’s size. It's thick, pretty and pink at the tip. ‘’Stroke it for me.’’
Ethan groaned and began to pump his cock slowly in his hand, wishing that it was yours. Your soft fingers would feel so good wrapped around him. He’s never had anyone touch him like that.
‘’Does that feel good?’’
The curly haired boy nodded, letting out a sigh.
‘’Keep touching, let me hear you.’’
His hand tightened on his erection, the feeling sending shudders down his spine and little whines and moans came out of his mouth, echoing out of your speakers.
‘’You’re being such a good boy,’’ you praised, starting to feel your own arousal sticking to your panties.
Ethan swirled his thumb over the head of his cock and caught the precum before gliding his hand wetly over his length. ‘’Can you play with yourself too?’’
You nodded and complied, slipping your panties down your smooth legs, perfectly shaved and moisturized for the livestream. ‘’I can do everything you want me to. As I said, you paid to see me.’’ You dropped them where your bra was and opened your legs wide so Ethan had a view of your glistening pussy as your fingers came in contact with your clit. ‘’Aah,’’ you sighed as you began to rub it.
You pushed two fingers inside of yourself, already relaxed from having a dildo twenty minutes ago, and let out a moan. Although your job was to pleasure the customer, you were starting to really enjoy this session. Ethan was sweet and good looking — and he had a pretty nice cock.
In his dorm room, Ethan wanted to cry. His cock was aching at the sight on his screen and his hand wasn’t moving fast enough for his liking. Needy whines were slipping from his mouth and turning onto moans, getting louder and louder, and his curly hair was sticking to his forehead annoyingly, but he couldn’t stop pumping.
The counter was getting close to the end of the session — only a few minutes left —, but you chose to ignore it. You didn’t want to stop riding your fingers…and neither did Ethan. He had seen many videos of you playing with yourself, but watching you doing it right before him, for him, was multiplying the pleasure and sending him close to the edge.
‘’I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,’’ Ethan announced, his face flushed and starting to breathe heavily. He threw his head back, showing the column of his throat and giving you a good view of his Adam apple bobbing as he picked up speed, his stomach muscles tightening.
You activated yourself on your clit, rubbing at it while you were fucking yourself on your other hand. The coil in your stomach was threatening to snap, your thighs shaking with your every move. Your hand was soaked with your arousal, glistening beautifully.
‘’Yes, yes, ye— Aah,’’ he whined out, white spurts of cum shooting out of him as he milked his cock, spurting all over his hand and lower stomach.
You reached your own high at the sight, secretly wishing all that cum was inside you.
—
Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn @bt.oliana @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys
All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @marzipaanz @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly
#ethan landry smut#ethan landry imagine#ethan landry#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry x you#scream 6 imagines#scream 6#i know the other fic was more popular but I finished this one first oops
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Hi everyone!
So this is the shittiest thing I ever wrote and it took me forever. Please let me know what you think anyway. It's for a request from here.
Also I haven't corrected spelling or syntax, it was the one thing too many.
Enjoy ♥
TW : Past relationship abused, kidnapping, violence, angst.
______________________________________________________________
Since her comeback to Barcelona, Ona is your little ray of sunshine. It’s not at that moment that you met her, you know her since she started to play in Manchester United. Yourself playing for Manchester United too, you met there. You only played together one year, before you went to play to Lyon for a loan for one year. And after that, you find yourself to FC Barcelona, where you met Ona again.
You always had a crush on her, I mean how could you not? But nothing ever happened between the both of you, you were maybe to shy for that. Before Barcelona, you never said anything to her about your feelings for her. You even tried to forget her when you were at Lyon, with some French man you met around football stadium.
Things were great with him at first, but it soon started to get strange. And, at last, violent. He was a manipulative, jealous and violent man. But you didn’t know a lot of people in France, and you didn’t want to talk to your teammates about what he was doing to you. You are clumsy by nature, so you just said your bruises were from falling or hitting you on basically every surface in your flag.
When your loan was finish, he asked you to stop football. Well, he required. But your agent didn’t let you and you’re forever thankful for him about that. He makes you move to Barcelona, and you broke up with your boyfriend at the same time. He wasn’t happy with you, clearly not. But you threatened to press charges if he didn’t leave you alone. Since then, you’ve never heard from him again. And this is a great relief.
No one in your current team knows about your story with him. Along those year you were still talking to Ona though, even if it wasn’t regularly. But you were more than happy to be in the same team again. Ona seems too and since day one you literally weren’t apart.
You helped Ona to choose the missing furniture for her flat and you both have a key from the other flat. You like cuddling watching TV with her, you like when she sleeps on your shoulder during travels to another city for a game, you like listening to her talking about her family. You like her laugh, you like her smile, you like her smell, you like her freckles, her hair, her eyes, her arms, everything about her. You like her. You love her.
You weren’t really discreet about it though, because some of your friends of the team started to tease you about it. Cata is one of your best friends in the team and she’s maybe your number one teaser. She’s kind enough to not doing it in front of Ona, but she received more than a slap behind her head because of it. You couldn’t help to stare at Ona when she’s away from you, your eyes attracted to her like magnets.
Ona can ask what she wants, you will always say yes. You didn’t say a word about your attraction to her anyway, you’re way to scared to lose her for that. You don’t know what you would do if Ona flew away from your life. She’s your everything and you better have her as a friend in your life than don’t have her.
********
You’re at the end of a game in the Johan Cruyiff stadium, enjoying some laugh with Cata and Lucy about Cata’s awkwardness in the video the admin post on Instagram where she thanks the Culers about their support.
You don’t have to turn around to know who owns the hand that gently rests in the hollow of your kidneys, its softness and its warmth recognizable between a thousand. Ona smile back at you and you pass your arm around her shoulders.
“Great game Señorita” you congrats her.
“Thanks. You were good too.”
She sends you a wink and you smile, turning to the stadium to go sign some jersey and take pictures. Ona didn’t let you go and you didn’t too, enjoying her closeness more than anything. Fans are speculating about a relationship between you two, but you never talked about it to Ona before. She didn’t, so you just follow her lead. You have to release her when you’re near the fans though and you start talking with the people waiting for you.
Minutes passed and you are coming slowly to the entrance of the tunnel giving access to the locker rooms. That’s when you saw him.
Your ex-boyfriend.
His evil smile on his face, he’s looking at you dead in your eyes. You froze, your hands suddenly shaking. It’s like all around you isn’t here anymore. What is he doing here? What does he want?
You almost jump out your skin when you fell a hand on your back, turning yourself to be faced to Ona and Alexia.
“Is everything alright?” the brunette asks while Alexia looks at you attentively.
“Yeah” you mumble “I’m just tired.”
You look again where your ex is standing and he’s still looking at you. You let Ona drives you to the changing room, where you get ride of your kit quietly, deep in your thoughts. You block his number when you left France and all his social media. You even didn’t really think about him those past weeks, being more focused on your job in the team. And, you have to admit, your relationship with Ona.
You take a long, hot shower, hopping he left when you will get out of the stadium too. When you get out of the shower, almost all of your teammates left too. There is still Ona, Alexia, Marta and Caro. The last three were talking too fast in Catalan for you to understand, but Ona seems to be waiting for you. She gives you a smile, far from suspecting where your mind is spiraling.
“Are you ready to get home?”
You almost say you prefer to go home alone, scared that the man is somewhere waiting for you. But when you realize that the other three women are leaving too, you nod. At least you will be with more force if he tries to talk to you. Or worst.
You’re on edge during your walk to the parking, not listening to what the others are saying, looking around you discreetly. Well, you think you are, but Alexia and Ona exchange an questioning look behind you. You manage to go in Ona’s car without seeing him, after saying goodbye to your friends.
“Do you want to come at my home or are you too tired for it cariño?”
You look at Ona for some seconds, before answering. You are scared to go home to find him on your doorstep, but if he’s following you, you don’t want to put Ona in danger. You know what he’s capable of. In other hand, he doesn’t know what Ona’s car looks like.
“I can come, if it’s ok with you”
“Of course”
Ona smiles at you, taping your hand with hers before turning on her car. It’s dark outside and you don’t see a lot, but you don’t see him waiting outside with some fans. Ona didn’t stop to say hi, only waving at them and you’re secretly really relieved about it. You slept at Ona’s tonight, feeling a little more in security while you cuddle against her in her bed.
********
The next time you see him, is when you’re running late for training. You had a shooting to promote the new adidas boots who take longer than you thought. You wrote to Ona to tell her you will be late and she answered to take your time and drive safely. You did, but when you stop your car, you jump outside your car, throw your bag on your shoulder and start almost running in the entrance.
“Hey, Y/N!”
Without other thought, you turn in the voice’s direction, thinking it’s a fan or something. But it’s not. It’s him, once again. He’s alone, you’re alone and you can’t make a single move to get away from here. Even when he’s walking in your direction.
“I see things are great for you know. Great car, great teammates… Great friends”
Your heart beats too fast and you swallow nervously before answering him. He’s now standing only one meter from you.
“What do you want?”
“I want my girlfriend, you, back. You left me without any choice and a threat, but I decided I’m better with you.”
“The threat is still on.”
Your voice is weak, and you feel pathetic. He seems to think the same, his laughs making you shivers. But before he can say anything else, you hear someone calling your name behind you.
You breath a little better when you realize that is Alexia and she’s walking where you are.
“You’re not coming? We are late.”
You nod, following her lead silently.
“See you soon Y/N” your ex says behind you.
You flinch but answer nothing to him. You don’t look back either, focused on your feet while you’re still walking with Alexia.
“Do you know him?”
You gulp, not really knowing what to answer to that. Yes, you know him, but it’s not really something you want Alexia to know. But she continues, still talking.
“You didn’t look really comfortable. You know, if someone disturbed you, you just have to say something and the security will take him away, right?”
“Yes, I know” you smile “Thank you Ale.”
Alexia smiles at you and pass an arm around your shoulders, taking you in the changing room. You don’t really know why you don’t explain what happened with him. You’re ashamed, but you know she wont judge you. Like Ona wouldn’t, Cata and all your friends and teammates. It’s just something you hate talking about. You never did, to anyone.
Since that day, you are always with someone to go to training or even the games. It’s usually Ona, sometimes Cata too. You are more at Ona’s flat than yours, scared to find yourself face to him. Ona’s flat is secured, you need to have an electronic card to access to the building and the parking lot. Yours isn’t.
Ona seems to realize that something is wrong with you. She hasn’t talk about it for now, but sometimes when she looks at you, you can find concern in her eyes. You are closer than ever though, and you must fight everyday your will to kiss her. It’s even harder when you’re cuddling against her like today in front of her tv.
You smile when you feel her lips kissing your hair, raising your eyes to hear. She smiles back, but she has the same concern look in her eyes. With her hand, she puts back some of your hair behind your ear.
“You know you can count on me cariño, si? No matter what?”
“Of course, Ona. Why are you saying that?”
Did Alexia talked to her about the time she saw you with your ex? You’re nervous suddenly, something you usually aren’t when Ona is around.
“I just feel like something is happening to you. You’re not like yourself, you’re always thinking, like something is constantly confusing you. I miss hearing you laugh.”
“I’m sorry” you mumble, sitting up. “Do you want me to leave?”
“What? No, I’ve never said that!”
Ona groans in frustration, rubbing her forehead. You don’t really understand what she wants from you. If you’re annoying, you would better go home and face whatever repercussions you will have to. Ona takes your hand, slightly stroking your fingers with her thumb.
“I don’t really know how to say that, and maybe the timing is wrong. But I really care for you, like maybe not in a friendly way. Well, it’s not maybe, I do care about you. Because I like you, a lot.”
You haven’t look away for a second, but you still have trouble understanding what she really is saying. She likes you a lot? Like, like like? Your confusion must be writing on your face, because Ona smiles and comes to sit closer to you.
“I like you. I want to take you on a date, have you for myself everyday and try to make you happy. Is it something you want to too?”
“I’m waiting for it since day one, Ona” you admit, blushing.
“Perfect” Ona grins. “And now, I really want to kiss you.”
You didn’t let her kiss you; you kiss her first. Leaning in her direction, you put your lips on hers, testing their softness for the first time. They are soft and sweet, as if they were made for yours. Ona kisses you back, her hand finding her way to your hair, holding your face against hers as she deepens the kiss. Soon her tongue is on your bottom lip, asking the entrance of your mouth and you lost it.
No one ever kissed you with so much passion. And no one ever makes you feel this way.
********
It feels weird to go to the training the day after your first kiss with Ona. You spend the night to her flat, enjoying her presence next to you. She drives you to training and you met Cata and Mariona on the parking lot. They are used to see you both coming together so they didn’t say anything, even if Cata wiggle her brows when Ona isn’t looking. You roll your eyes, discreetly pinching her ribs, making her yelp.
There is no way that you talk to her about last night right now. You want to enjoy the memories a little more before being teased even more.
Ona seems amused by your little fight, and she gives you a knowing look, who makes you smile. You confess some things yesterday, and the fact that Cata knows about your crush for her was in.
The training went great, your teammates regaining your lost bubbly personality. You make your drill with Ona, simply unable to stay away from her. Things got bad again though, while you were changing in the locker room after your shower.
You’re joking with Cata while Ona is talking with Mariona and Alexia when Fridolina come back to the changing room, Mapi and Ingrid following her.
“Hey Y/N” Frido says, making your gaze go to her “You never said anything about your boyfriend!”
“What?” you frown.
Next to you, Ona froze, her head turning quickly in your direction. You share a look with her before turning to Frido again.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your boyfriend” she repeats, smirking.
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
Mapi rolls her eyes before looking at her phone in the pocket of her jeans. You are always lost when she opens it, scrolling for some seconds before putting it in front of your face.
You suddenly turned pale.
It is in fact a picture of you with your ex, looking happy and in love. It was in the first days of your relationship though. You never took pictures after he started his abuse.
“He shows us the pictures because the security won’t let him passed” Mapi explain.
You don’t know what to say. Your heart is pounding. But you soon realize that he’s here, some meters from you.
“Where is he?” you ask in a small voice.
“Wait, you do know him?”
Ona’s voice is a mix of surprise, incomprehension and disbelief. She doesn’t look at Mapi when she snorts and show her her phone again, only looking at you. You can’t lie to her.
“I do, but it’s not what you think Oni, I swear.”
“Don’t Oni me.”
The others seem lost about your interaction with Ona, only Cata seems to understand what’s happening. You never saw Ona looking at you the way she is, with so much cold and almost hate.
“Ona let her explain, maybe you…” Cata tries.
But Ona brutally stands up, taking her bag and leaving the room. You try to get up to follow her, but Mapi stops you right after. You know she loves Ona and probably only want to protect her, but she makes you lose time.
“What have you done?” she asks coldly.
“Not now Mapi, please. I will explain, but now I have to catch her.”
You don’t let her answer anything, standing up to try to find Ona. But you’re not able to and when you reach the parking lot, she has already left. You came with her this morning, so you don’t have your car to go to her flat. You thought about picking a bike or something, until a car stops right next to you.
You don’t have to see the face of the person inside it, you know already.
“Get in the car, or I’ll follow her. Now.”
What could you do? There’s no way that you let him go after Ona, he seems to knows what link you have with her. You don’t hesitate one second, but that’s doesn’t mean it’s easy to do. Your hands are shaking once again when you open the passenger door.
Meanwhile, in the changing room, Alexia had observed the interaction without saying a word. She was analyzing everything. When you left, she asks Mapi to see the pictures she showed you and Ona and she recognize him almost directly.
“She was talking to him last week, in the parking lot when we both arrived late” Alexia frowns.
“So she knows him! He’s her boyfriend!” Frido says with exasperation.
“I’m not sure… She didn’t look at ease, he was talking but she wasn’t. She looked almost scared.”
Ingrid’s frowning too, like Alexia she was quiet during the little scene before. She doesn’t want to believe that you will cheat to someone, whatever if this person is Ona or someone else. Something was disturbing her since the beginning.
“He said he will wait for her outside” she remembers her friends and her girlfriend.
“What?!” almost shout Cata
The Majorcan woman doesn’t hesitate. Like Ona and you did, she runs in the floor, Alexia following soon after. But they arrived to late, only able to see you getting in your ex’s car.
********
You don’t say anything during the journey. You don’t know where he’s taking you, you don’t recognize the streets anymore. Ona is still a big part of your thoughts; you have your phone in the inside pocket of your jacket, but you prefer not to use it for now. Maybe you will need it after. You’re scared too, but it’s not something new when you’re with him.
“Where are we going?” you ask some minutes later.
He looks briefly at you, but only answer with a grimace full of disdain. You took the opposite direction from your apartment or Ona’s, so you’re relieved to see that he didn’t decide to go after the girl you love. You don’t know what he planned for you, but you regret not being able to tell Ona that you love her before everything shattered. At the same time, how could you have imagined the turn of events?
You really start to worry when he leaves the busy roads for small roads, where houses are becoming fewer and fewer. When it stops at the roadside, just before the start of a forest road, you turn in its direction.
"Get off" he does simply by picking up his phone and car keys.
You put your attention around you. There are only trees and a rocky path that starts a few meters from where the car is stopped.
"I said, get off!"
You jump, but you obey what he orders you, opening the car door. The air is a little cooler than in the city of Barcelona, here in the shade of the trees. You swallow before delicately closing the car door. He shows you the way to follow with a nod, making you pass in front of him. He must fear an attempt to flee from you if you walk behind, which may indeed happen.
"Where are we going?" you ask again.
But he doesn’t answer you, pushing you in the back to make you move forward. What you end up doing, eyes screwed to the floor so you don’t twist an ankle with all these stones.
“You never learn” he says some minutes after
“What?”
You frown, turning slightly in his direction. With the time passing, it looks like you lost the ability to understand him. Reading in his mind.
“I told you to stop football. You didn’t and then you left me? Who do you think you are?”
You bite your lip. He seems angry and that’s never been a good thing. You try to slow down a bit, scared to arrive to his destination.
“People online are saying that you’re shagging this Spanish girl. Is that true?”
You’re just denying it by shaking your head negatively. Technically, you’re not lying to him. You and Ona never took that step.
“Do you realize what people think of me? My girlfriend leaving me to play football in Spain and flirting like a slut with other people?"
“I’m not your girlfriend anymore” you mumble.
You know you’re going to make him angry, but you don’t care. You have a hard time with the way he talks about Ona, not to mention the gratuitous insult you just took.
As you expected, he reacts brutally, grabbing your arm and turning you around, stopping you in your walk and drawing you towards him.
"That’s what you believe. You’re mine and if I can’t have you, no one else will."
Before you have time to fully realize what it involves, a pebble rolling sound behind you causing him to release you and turn in the opposite direction. But there is no one and even if you managed to run away without him realizing it, you don’t know what exit you can find to save yourself.
When two paths present themselves to you, you choose the one that continues to descend. Unfortunately, he sees you doing, unlike what happens in suspense movies. A few meters further, it finally happens what it was supposed to happen on this stony path. You twist your ankle and fall heavily. You don’t have time to get up that he’s already next to you, looking furious.
You try to get up anyway, especially when you see him picking up a big stone at your feet.
Then several things happen in the fractions of seconds that follow this movement. With an instinctive gesture, you protect your face with your arm, what you imagine your last thoughts turned towards Ona.
But you hear other steps, loud voices and a cry of pain that is not yours. When you stand up, your ex is lying on the ground, Cata’s shaking her right hand in pain and Alexia seems to hold your ex on the ground with a foot on his chest cage. Behind them, Mariona is on the phone.
"What are you doing here?" you stutter, getting up as best you can.
"We followed you" Cata simply replies.
You accept her valid hand to get up, limping slightly because of your ankle. You watch as your ex-boyfriend insults Alexia deeply in French, before you turn your attention to your captain.
“I don’t speak French” the blonde smirk.
“Help is on his way” Mariona says soon after.
She comes for you and take you in her arms, a hug that you give her back happily.
“How’s your hand?” you ask to Cata over Mariona’s shoulder.
“Hé I've had worse”
You smirk too before releasing Mariona, you pat your cheek slightly. You wait for only a few minutes for the rescue team, leaning on Cata to relieve your painful ankle. They take your ex in one car and take him to the nearest police station. They inform you that someone will come to ask you some questions at the hospital, where your taken with Cata to check your injuries.
********
You told everything to Cata, Mariona and Alexia as the take you to the hospital. They listened, never judging you. You felt stupid to hide all this without talking to anyone, but they never said anything about that too.
You are sitting in your hospital bed, talking with Cata when the door of your room is suddenly open. Turning your head, you recognize Ona’s silhouette in a second. She doesn’t seem sure of herself though, waddling from one foot to the other on the doorstep.
“You can come in, Oni”
“I’m going to call my mum” Cata says, jumping from the chair she was sitting until now.
She smiles at you and pats Ona shoulder before get it out and closing the door behind her.
Ona’s looking at you and you’re looking at you. She took a few steps inside the room but is still far away from you.
“Ona I…”
“Look I know…”
Of course, you have to talk at the same time. This makes you smile and Ona smiles too, making your heart fluttered a little. Her smile has always been something magical for you.
“Go on” you say simply.
“I’m sorry for running away without taking the time to listen to you. Don’t be mad at her but when Alexia called me to ask me to come here, she told me what happened. And why.”
You swallow with difficulty, not really sure of what Ona thinks about that. You’re still not very at ease about this part of your past, but if someone must know, it’s Ona. Unless she isn’t interested in you anymore.
“So you know” you whispers.
“I know that it’s your ex-boyfriend and not your current boyfriend and that he was kind of following you around here. Alexia said there is more, but that it’s better if you talk about it yourself.”
You are thankful for Alexia’s care, but in other hand you wouldn’t have been against the idea of not putting words about it. You pat the bed next to you to invite Ona to sit down, taking a deep breath before talking.
“You don’t have to share anything if you don’t want to, Cariño.”
“I know. I just don’t know where to start” you sigh.
Ona doesn’t say anything, only grabs your hand to interlink your fingers together. You let her, of course. Her presence is everything to you right now, so you have to make an effort for her and talk. Ona waits patiently, playing with your fingers.
“Ok, so I’m going to be very straightforward” you begin, waiting for Ona to nod before talking again. “When I met him, I was desperate to forget the feelings I hade for someone back in Manchester. I was to shy to talk to her and I don’t know. He was very kind and caring at first.”
You bite your lips, you saw that Ona almost interrupt you to ask who this person was, but you prefer not to tell her now. You are almost sure that she will feel guilty about all this and you don’t want that.
“But after some weeks, he began to become jealous, possessive and controlling the messages I sent, the people I talked to. To avoid arguments, I ghosted a lot of people. I went to training, to games and then I went home right after. I haven’t made many friends in Lyon. But he was never satisfied. When my contract in Lyon was finish, I wanted me to quit football. I refused and left for Barcelona when he was out with friends. I told him not to talk to me again if he if he didn’t want me to press charges. I did it until two weeks ago.”
Ona doesn’t say anything, but the expressions on her face are talking for her. You can see in her eyes the anger caused by everything you said. A silence pass and it’s now you who play with her fingers.
“Did he hit you? Don’t lie to me.”
Ona’s eyes are intense, and you struggle to keep eye contact with her.
“I never lied to you, Oni” you mumble before answering the real question. “Yeah, I did. No one saw it, you know how clumsy I am. The all believed that I fall in the stairs or something like that.”
Ona is fuming, but you can see how much she’s trying to control herself and not just exploded right now.
“The person you were in love with, before him, doesn’t know about all this?”
“She didn’t know about my feelings at all. Why?”
Ona shrugs once again before answering you.
“I was wondering if you were in a middle of a breakup or something. You didn’t say you were with someone when we were at Manchester.”
“I wasn’t” you simply say. “I would have told you if I was with someone.”
You don’t want her to ask you who it was, but you know the question is coming as soon as Ona opens her mouth.
“Who were you in love with?”
You look at her for some seconds before saying “no” with your head. But Ona is stubborn and she looks at you with her best puppy eyes.
“You just said that you will never lie to me.”
“Ona…”
She knows that you can’t resist her when she looks at you like that. She can ask you anything and you would just give her, no matter what it is.
“Ok so let me guess. Was it Leah?”
“Galton? No” you laugh lightly.
“Alessia?”
“Nope. I mean she’s cute, but I prefer brunette.”
“Maya?”
“Guess again sweetheart.”
You’re smiling now, really amused by Ona’s guesses. The fact that she doesn’t say her name is pretty funny, but at least you don’t have to lie to her. After the fifth name, she starts to have trouble to find another brunette in your former team. And then you saw the understanding in her eyes. She stayed silence for some seconds, and you let her. There is no way you would say it first.
“It was me.”
It’s not even a question. Your throat is too tight for you to talk, so you just nod. And you see Ona’s face fall.
“I- I didn’t know.”
“I know, Oni. I worked hard to not show you anything. No one knew.”
“I should have guess though; you wouldn’t have to live the hell he makes you live.”
Your hand always in hers, you take her a little more against you. She looks sad and you don’t want to see this on her. Ona deserves only happiness. Nothing else.
“We don’t know where we’d be now if I told you about it back then. What I’ve been through is not easy, but you’re part of my life now and that’s all that matters to me."
Ona is looking everywhere else than you and that gives your stomach a strange sensation. You release Ona’s hand slowly, your stomach wriggling a little.
“You don’t want me anymore.”
Like Ona before, it’s not a question. It’s an affirmation and this time Ona gaze is on you almost immediately. The sadness in your voice almost break her heart and she put her hand on your jawline to make you look at her.
“Of course I do. I’m in love with you too Y/N. I think I always had. I’m so sorry…”
“Don’t. I beg you. Don’t excuse yourself.”
Your face are only a few centimeters from hers when you talk, and she just closes the last gap between you to kiss you. You melt at the contact, passing your arms around her to feel her everywhere. What you had to go through wasn’t easy, as you said. But you know that in Ona’s arms, you will be ok. She will make everything better, like she always did.
#woso imagine#woso x reader#ona batlle#woso fanfics#ona batlle imagine#ona batlle x reader#woso one shot
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can i have you(r number)?
PAIRING... bsf!niki x reader | GENRE... fluff, romance, humor | WC... 0.3k | ”can’t you get the hint?"
“are you busy today?”
you think it’s an innocent, everyday average question asked by your best friend.
you frown, “niki, you already know my schedule—like we see each other basically everyday.”
he sighs, placing his hands on his hips. “what about tomorrow? or the day after?”
you’re used to his antics by now.
“…no,” you start sarcastically, “unfortunately, im busy trying to find out what’s gotten into you right now.”
what you don’t understand is why niki seems just as, if not more, annoyed than you are.
“can you just give me an answer?”
“why are you asking—“
“can i have your number?” he suddenly interrupts.
“what?” you turn to niki incredulously. your mouth drops open at the sheepish look on his face.
you think he’s messing with you again—in what world would you not have each others numbers?
but his silence causes you to think twice.
“niki, what are you—“
he finally groans, slapping a hand to his forehead.
“can’t you get the hint? i’m trying to ask you out, dude.”
you splutter. countless questions run through your mind, but an impatient niki interrupts you.
“so? what’s your answer?”
you blink blankly at him. a silence follows until you decide to speak up again.
“no—“
his face falls,
“—i could not get the hint. and sure… i guess i will go out with you?”
he pumps his fist excitedly as you roll your eyes.
“i knew it would work!”
you shove his shoulder playfully (and lovingly). “don’t push your luck, niki. you still suck at trying to flirt with me.”
he sticks out a tongue at you, “and yet you still said yes.”
a win is a win.
a/n ▸ ha you thought i would/could go a month without posting a niki au
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@kflixnet
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#enhypenwriters#enhypen imagines#enhypen x reader#enhypen scenarios#enhypen fluff#niki x reader#niki x you#niki fluff#niki imagines#niki scenarios#enhypen niki
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loving you
billy hargrove x gn!reader
word count: 961
warnings: um, literally none? let me know if i missed something though
a/n: wanted to write something for baby’s birthday. don’t bully me about the age i’m being self-indulgent, okay? but anyways, posting this now so it’ll be up all day on his birthday. also tagging @clovermunson for helping me out with a certain fuzzy fellow. love you guys!!! <3
————
Billy is warm beside you. That’s one of your favorite things about him.
Even if there are times where you get hot and have to push him off because he’s making you sweat, there are still the times that you get to cuddle up to him when you’re cold. And he’ll tuck you into his side to warm you up. Just like he’s doing now.
His socked feet are propped up on the coffee table, the rest of him covered by a blanket that the both of you share. His arm is wrapped around your back, fingers spread across your stomach where his hand has slipped underneath the fabric of your shirt.
Every once in a while he’ll scratch over your belly, dull nails sending chills up your spine. Your hand is tucked underneath his thigh, thumb rubbing back and forth over his leg.
Billy’s eyes are on the tv, yours glancing back and forth between him and the clock on the wall.
You’re starting to wonder if you’ll disturb him with your little plan, just based on the way his eyes are starting to flutter shut, the way he’s melting into you.
But you don’t think he’ll mind. Not really.
The clock hand moves that little bit and the microwave numbers change, their light leaving a green cast over the kitchen counter.
12:00 am.
You sit up, twisting some so that you’re facing Billy, and your movement wakes him up a little.
He straightens, looking at you. He quirks a brow, trying to figure out what you’re up to. It’s always something.
You reach out to touch his face, and he automatically leans into it. You cup his cheeks with both hands, and then you’re pressing your lips to his.
Your mouth is warm, and he can both taste and smell the lip balm you’d put on earlier in the night. It’s a sweet kiss, long and heartfelt.
Billy brings his hand up, holding onto your wrist.
You’re thinking: I love you, I love you, I love you, and hoping you can somehow transfer the message directly into his brain through the kiss. He kisses you back, knowing exactly what you’re trying to say. Billy hasn’t shaved in a few days and his skin scratches against yours. You don’t care.
When you pull away, his lashes are fluttering and if it weren’t so dim in the living room you’re sure you’d find a blush spreading across his face.
“Happy Birthday.”
Billy smiles at you. When he speaks, his voice is tired, lovesick. “Was that my birthday kiss?”
“Only the first one,” you tell him.
“Oh, so I get more?”
Billy presses his forehead against yours, still holding onto your wrist. Your hands never leave his face, thumbs sweeping underneath his eyes.
“You want another?” You ask. The question makes him chuckle.
“Pretty please.”
His lips tick up at the corners, enticing you. You press a kiss to both, to his cupid's bow, his chin. He pouts at you.
“Come on. It’s my birthday,” Billy whines.
“I really set myself up for this one.” You kiss him. “Should’ve known you’d use that to your advantage.” You kiss him again.
Billy hums against your cheek where he’s now pressed his own mouth. He knows that makes you go all warm.
There’s a noise behind you, a subtle added weight to the cushion you've settled on, and you know what it is without having to turn. The mewl makes Billy aware of the presence, and he grins against your face, a slow laugh leaving his throat.
“I think he wants us to come to bed, B.”
Billy hooks his chin over your shoulder, meeting eyes with a little brown cat.
You hear the first meow your cat lets out in greeting. The second is almost like a question. Why are you still up?
Billy reaches around you, scratching behind his ears. You can hear his purring. It’s always so loud.
There’s a clambering, and Billy leans back, allowing for the young cat to squeeze between your body and the couch and up into his lap.
“Night, Cosmo,” you say. Billy snorts. “What? It’s too late to be evening.”
Cosmo ignores your words, preferring to stare at you, waiting. You scratch his chin and he mewls. It’s not unlike the response Billy might have for getting the same sort of attention.
“What do you wanna do in the morning, birthday boy? How would you like to celebrate your release from teenagedom? The big 2-0?”
Billy rolls his eyes at you and kisses the palm of your hand, having snatched it from where it was flailing midair.
“Don’t care,” he says. “We could sit here all day and I wouldn’t give a shit.”
You lean in like you need to whisper, as if you’re not in your own home. “I think Max is gonna come see you. Don’t tell her I told you, but she bought you a sash.”
“No.”
You start to laugh. “Yes. A birthday sash.”
“I’m not wearing that.”
You kiss him again, though you’re laughing and can’t take it seriously.
“Sure, baby.”
He pecks your lips once, twice. “No, I’m not.”
The polaroid you stick in the frame of your vanity mirror the next evening says otherwise. Billy is sitting on the couch with his arms crossed, though loosely enough that you can see the words “Birthday Princess” in sparkly lettering on a pink sash.
He’s not looking at the camera, he’s looking at Max, listening to something she’s saying. Lucas is on the floor, back between her knees.
Billy looks so happy, cheeks flushed from all of the attention he’d had, the start of a laugh on his face.
It’s a pure, candid photo, for a true birthday princess.
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
#billy hargrove#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove x gn!reader#billy hargrove x gender neutral reader#billy hargrove x y/n#billy hargrove fic#billy hargrove fanfic#billy hargrove fanfiction#billy hargrove fluff#billy hargrove one shot#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove ficlet#max mayfield#lucas sinclair#billy stranger things#savannah’s fics
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playing4u
pairing non-idol!heeseung x fem!reader synopsis college boy heeseung that dedicates his songs to u, plays the guitar for u and never fails to sing u to sleep whenever u want genre college au, established relationship in the second half, fluff warnings not proofread, down bad heeseung… main masterlist
reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!
before u guys started dating
one thing about u and heeseung is that u both LIVE, LAUGH and LOVE music
picture this; u guys are at a music festival, probably something like head in the clouds
u’re singing ur heart out to niki’s set list (as u should) and heeseung, who was just beside u, happened to turn his head at ur direction
and GOD. FUCKING. DAMN.
boy was absolutely starstruck the moment he laid eyes on u, despite the scorching heat that rendered u a sweaty mess
he felt like he was in a movie
and he swore he felt his heart thumping faster and faster, which definitely wasn’t because of the bass or the crowd around him
he was too scared to ask for ur number right there and then, because honestly he’s highkey lowkey a loser…
he doesn’t have the rizz people think he has!
by the end of the night, he left the venue feeling defeated. the post-concert blues weren’t even hitting the way it should because all he could think about was u
in the next following days, he’s probably written songs about how he saw the prettiest girl but she got away, posting them on his private, for only his friends to see
“WHO IS THE GIRL.” jungwon drills heeseung for answers during a group game night at their dorm, which piques the interest of everyone else because when has heeseung ever shown this much interest in a girl, to the point where he would write literal SONGS FOR SAID GIRL??
heeseung describes the girl in perfect detail, from the colour of your hair to the tattoo u had on ur arm
“hey… isn’t he just describing y/n?” niki asks, trying to connect the dots with heeseung’s description of u and his own memory
“didn’t she post a story about head in the clouds a few days ago as well?? i swear i saw it.” sunoo adds as he pulls out his phone, “wait let me find her instagram,” and by this time heeseung could already feel the familiar rhythm of his heart thumping to the same beat it did on the day of the festival
“is this her?”
heeseung couldn’t believe his eyes. after all this time (it’s only been a week please), he finally was able to put a name to his mystery girl!
when i tell this man LEAPED when he found out that u both had mutual friends all this time… yea he was already down BAD.
more under cut!
after u guys started dating
it only took a month or two of talking for u to fall head over heels for heeseung
i mean how could u not when he’s so beyond perfect???
he’s never failed to pick u up from ur classes whenever he could, give u a shoulder to cry on when u were stressed about ur finals, and plan the majority of ur dates without u ever lifting a finger— u were his princess and he made very sure that u and everyone else knew it
because of ur joint interests in music, u guys would always send each other music that u’re currently listening to
“flo milli?”
“what? sometimes guys want to feel like a bad bitch too.”
other than sharing music, heeseung would 100% sing u to sleep whenever u ask for it… actually, atp u don’t even need to ask for it anymore because he already knows
u guys would be on the bed, and as his hands snakes around u to caress ur head lovingly, hee would start humming a soft tune
the vibrations of it lulling u closer to sleep
and when u actually fall asleep, he would kiss ur head goodnight and flick the bed lights off, tucking himself closer to u :((
before u guys even started dating, heeseung was already writing songs about u, so after dating, the amount of songs dedicated to and for u would only increase tenfold
he’d record them just for ur ears to hear
and when he’s letting u hear the songs he’s made, he always has this lovestruck smile on his face, eyes totally glossed over and heart in his hand for you take…
u’ve become his ultimate muse, his inspiration in all aspects of his life
u could tell just how much he loves you from the songs he makes— the melody, the emotions he sings with, the lyrics… all of it just screams that he’s totally head over heels for u
he would even let u have ur moment in his songs, either singing or just talking in the background… because he always wants to incorporate u into his art
when heeseung does decide to post the music he makes, he always makes sure to use ur photos as the cover because almost every song is about u and for u 😭 man physically cannot shut up about u
he’s talked all of his friends ears off ab how u cute u looked in his hoodie, how u pretty u were yesterday, and the day before that and probably tomorrow as well
there would be a point in time when u randomly mentioned that u found guys who play the guitar attractive and u know what heeseung did that day? applied for a guitar class, only to showcase what he’s learnt so far a few weeks later
“hee, i didn’t even know u played the guitar?”
“well i just started learning, like, 3 weeks ago.”
“and you’re already this good?”
“what can i say? i’m a determined man.”
© i2ycat 2024
#i2ycat#heeseung ff#enhypen ff#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen x reader#heeseung fluff#enhypen#heeseung imagines#heeseung scenarios#heeseung soft hours#enha fluff#heeseung drabbles#enha soft thoughts#enhypen soft hours#enhypen heeseung#heeseung headcanons#heeseung#heeseung x reader#lee heeseung#lyn’s archive
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Hi K, congratulations on 3.5K once again!!!! Saw you reblogging your celebration post, reminded I hadn't sent anything in yet due to a busy schedule. Anyway, I'd like to request a blurb for John with the prompt number 10. ''Look at me.''
You're awesome. And hope you have an amazing week this week :)
Thanks so much for sending this in, Merel @twvstedsouls !! I’m sorry it took me so long to write it! Enjoy! :)
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!
I Don’t Care What They Say
John Shelby x Reader
Warnings: none
Word Count: 736
Summary: John hears what he needs the most after learning about (Y/N)’s parents’ opposition of their engagement.
“Why the long face, darlin’?” John Shelby asked his fianceé a few seconds after she entered the room he’d been sitting in. He immediately nodded the downcast expression that she was wearing and wasted no time getting to the bottom of what was bothering her.
“I don’t want to talk about it, John,” she answered with a sigh as she took her coat off and hung it up by the door. “It’s nothing, really. There’s not much that can be done about it. It’ll pass over.”
“It’s not ‘nothing’ if it’s got you looking like that. So what’s wrong?” he gently prodded her for the answer.
(Y/N) finally looked in his direction, and she stood still for a few moments, thinking on whether she should share the conversation she’d just had. John had an expectant look on his face, one that told her she wasn’t getting out of this so easy. So with a sigh, she dropped her gaze to the floor. It’d be easier for her to get it out if she didn’t see his reaction.
“My parents don’t agree with our engagement.”
The breath got stuck in John’s throat. It felt like the world had stopped for a moment as her words sunk into his mind. His eyebrows scrunched together as he tried to make sense of it. “What…what did they say?” he stumbled on his words, not sure if he wanted to hear more about it or not.
“They said that you’re no good for me. That I can find someone much better than you,” she answered, her heart breaking as she watched him process what she was saying. The words left such a bad taste in her mouth, and repeating them made her recount the long lecture her parents had given her about her choice.
John blinked a few times, trying to wrap his head around what her parents had said about their engagement. Thoughts started seeping in; ones telling him that he actually wasn’t good enough for her, and that she was going to heed to her parents advice. He dropped his eyes to the floor, swallowing thickly as he brought his hand up. He waved it around as he tried to think of what he wanted to say next. “And what do you say?…about our engagement,” he asked, squeezing his eyes shut for extra measure. He didn’t want to see her reaction.
If it wasn’t broken before, (Y/N)’s heart shattered at the sound of his voice as he forced his question out. She could tell that his mind was reeling; that he was fighting so hard to keep himself together. “Hey,” she called out, hoping to get his attention, but to no avail. “John. Look at me,” she continued, not wanting to say anything else without his eyes on hers. She wanted him to see how much she meant every word.
Slowly John lifted his eyes to meet hers again. He placed his hands on his knees, bracing himself for what would come next. It was in that moment that he wished he could be more like Tommy or Polly, so that he’d be able to read her expression and gain some clues from it.
After what felt like minutes of waiting, (Y/N) spoke again. “I don’t care what they say about our engagement. I’m marrying you, John Shelby,” she said, her words ringing out loud and clear. “They don’t have control over what I do. I’m old enough to make my own choices, and I choose you. I’m always going to choose you.”
“You are?” he just had to check, well aware that he sounded like a child in doing so.
“Yes,” she nodded, “I can’t wait to marry you. Nothing anyone says against it is going to change my mind.”
A breath of relief left John’s lips then, and all of the built up tension quickly resolved within seconds. “You have no idea how happy hearing you say that makes me, (Y/N),” he told her, shaking his head as a relieved smile formed on his face.
“You have no idea how happy you make me, John,” she countered, moving over to where he was sitting as a similar smile formed on her face. “Me and you…no one else matters.”
“No one else matters,” he repeated the ending of her statement, standing from his seat so that he could kiss her.
*tags in reblog so they hopefully get sent out
MASTERLIST
#john shelby#john shelby x reader#john shelby x y/n#john shelby x you#john shelby blurb#john shelby imagine#john shelby fanfic#john shelby fanfiction#peaky blinders#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinders x y/n#peaky blinders x you#peaky blinders blurb#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders fanfiction#peaky blinders fanfic#fanfiction#fanfic#k’s 3.5k celebration
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GO TO HELL [ch. 3]
[Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader]
Previous: Chapter Two
➨ Chapter Three
Next: Chapter Four
Premise:
You love your friends. You really do. But sometimes it needs reminding when one of them accidentally sends you to Hell.
Despite falling into the hands of Hell’s loveliest princess, finding a way back to the world of the living proves difficult as you tiptoe around its king.
Warning(s): sudden popularity, mistakes were made (by you not me <3)
If you'd prefer to read on Ao3, here is the link:
Otherwise, enjoy!
♡ ♡ ♡
CHAPTER THREE
Well.
You finally made it on TV. Fame and fortune were nearly yours for the taking. People would be lining up outside for your autograph and maybe even just the chance to catch a glimpse of you.
The ‘Human in Hell.’
That was the headline the news broadcasters decided on. It was slapped on top of a clip of you hauling ass through the rancid streets of Hell. You were clearly panic stricken and fearing for your life, but why would the announcers care about that?.
A darn shame it was being aired live across all of Hell. Your dignity was the price you would pay for fame amongst the worst people to walk the Earth.
You were curled into yourself on the couch, unable to peel your eyes away from the screen. Vaggie was pacing behind it, muttering out profanities you didn’t know existed. And Charlie? She was doing her best to calm the both of you down. Bless her heart.
The reason you had to end your little escapade to the Morningstar Manor early was because Vaggie texted saying she had bad news. You thought perhaps her recruiting backfired or there could have been a fire in the hotel that she couldn’t put out.
You did not expect to be called back because the entirety of Hell now had you on their radar. This complicated things quite a bit as one might imagine. It was much easier to hide as a human when only a handful of people knew about you. Now, everyone’s eyes were peeled in hope of finding you.
“Look, she’s all-over social media, too,” Vaggie groaned, showing her phone screen to the two of you. She began to read off some of the posts, “Vox and Katy Killjoy are promising viewers an interview with her…There’s already bidding wars for Christ’s sake!”
“Let’s not worry too much about this…As long as we make sure she’s in her disguise when we’re out, it’ll all be okay,” Charlie said.
“They caught her on video. What if they tracked her to the hotel? They could show up any second looking for her!”
It was touching she cared so much about your well-being in this situation, but the goal was to have you back home as soon as possible. Once you were out of Hell, none of this would be a problem. You doubted demons would pass into the living world just to come after you. At that point, there was an endless number of humans to choose from.
“I don’t know…They probably would have already shown up if they knew she was here,” Charlie reasoned, and Vaggie’s pacing began to slow.
“I was able to get away from all the demons that were after me by the time I found the hotel,” you added. “No one should have been around to see me come in.”
Charlie was finally able to get Vaggie to sit, and a tense silence enveloped the three of you. Charlie was rubbing Vaggie’s arms soothingly, so you took it upon yourself to turn off the tv. There was no point in listening to it anymore. All it did was stress everyone out, and there was nothing you could really do about it. Your current plan of action remained the best.
“So how was your day, Vaggie?” you asked in hopes of breaching a more positive topic.
“Oh, right! Did you find anybody who would be interested in staying with us?” Charlie chimed in with a bright grin.
The poor girl sighed in response.
“There was one person who was interested in what we’re offering,” she began, “but he seemed more enticed by free rent than redemption…”
“That’s okay. Maybe if he spends a little time with us, the idea of redemption will start to grow on him!” Charlie sounded like she was also trying to convince herself.
“I guess…” Vaggie grumbled. “He said he might drop by tomorrow or the day after to check things out. Would that work for you guys?”
“Oh, my gosh. That would be great!” Charlie squealed, jumping up from the floor. “We have to head back to my dad’s in the morning, but any time after that would be perfect.”
“No luck today?”
“Not really,” you sighed. “We were able to look around a little bit but we ended up running into her old man.”
“And he tried interrogating her,” Charlie groaned, running her hands through her hair as the memory resurfaced. “I was so worried he would suspect something, but your emergency text totally saved us.”
“Did the disguise work at least?”
That was an excellent question. While he didn’t seem to question anything about your appearance, he still seemed suspicious. It was entirely possible he could smell your fear. You’d expect no less from a demon; they probably fed off of it. Who knows…
You should be nicer. Charlie and Vaggie certainly hadn’t given you that impression. In fact, you were pretty sure you saw one of them eating toast for breakfast. They likely had perfectly normal digestive systems.
“I think so! We’re just gonna have to make a good cover story in case he finds us again.”
The three of you began to brainstorm, losing track of time as it faded into playful conversation. There was an intermission to order food since their ‘kitchen’ still wasn’t quite ready to be used to such an extent. And eventually, you parted ways to get ready for bed.
Your arms were full after they had given you a towel and a plethora of toiletries to help scrub all the paint off of your body. When you entered your room, you were also greeted by your ‘human’ clothes, clean and neatly folded on top of your bed.
And laying on top of those was your phone.
Holy shit. You had completely forgotten you had it on you before your ass was ripped through that portal. Of course, the adrenaline rush that immediately followed your arrival in Hell didn’t help. And you were so eager to get those nasty, garbage covered clothes off, you hadn’t noticed the weight in your back pocket.
You dumped all the toiletries onto your bed to grab it.
The home screen was piled with notifications ranging from worried texts to company newsletter alerts. You began thumbing in your password to rifle through it all… but then you noticed your hand.
The paint was rubbed away.
On your fingers and wrists. There were splotches where paint was gone, revealing your natural skin underneath.
When did this happen?
Your palms were almost completely barren, likely from everything you had touched throughout the day. On the back of your hands and around your wrists, there were smaller spots where your skin was peeking through.
Like fingerprints.
You felt like you were delt a sucker punch to the gut.
Maybe…Maybe it was from your own hand. You could have been rubbing at your own wrists subconsciously. With all the stress-inducing shit going down, that wouldn’t be unlikely.
But if the paint could come off so easily…
No. You had to believe it was your own doing.
Regardless, you had to find a way to prevent it from happening again.
You opted to wait until the morning to break the bad news to Charlie and Vaggie. The two had just gone off to bed, and honestly, your nerves were getting the better of you. Your stomach was twisting in on itself as your heart pounded relentlessly against your ribs.
You would tell them. You would.
Just not right now.
More than anything, you wanted that dried up paint off of you.
Tossing your phone aside and grabbing your bathing supplies, you scrambled into the bathroom to throw the shower on. The feeling of peeling those clothes off and clambering in to let the hot water rush over your sticky body was ethereal. It was so satisfying to watch the unnatural pigment run off your skin, erasing any evidence that it may have transferred onto that man’s hands.
You closed your eyes and tilted your head back, hoping it would wash away your worries, as well.
Finding the will to get out of the shower was difficult. But your body was tired, as well as your mind.
Flicking the lights off, you tumbled into bed, content with its softness in that moment as the mattress and pillows consumed you entirely. You were more than ready to knock out and forget about all that had happened over the past couple of days.
You didn’t want to think about the fact you were likely being hunted by god knows how many hell-goers. You didn’t want to think about the impact the time you spent here would leave on your life in the living world. Your job, your relationships (thankfully you didn’t have a pet). More than anything, you didn’t want to think about the possibility you may never get home at all.
With a deep sigh, you rolled onto your side and felt something hard beneath your hip. You groaned as you reached down to remove it, finding the phone that you had carelessly tossed aside. It made your heart swell.
You wanted your friends. You wanted to read their texts, new and old. Hell, you wanted to see any memes or posts they may have sent you. Any semblance of normality was all you needed right now. You would take whatever you could get.
Slowly, you reached over and grabbed it. Its brightness hadn’t yet adjusted, and you squinted as you flash banged yourself.
Opening your messages, you saw Devon at the top. They said that they hoped you could see their message, that you were somehow okay.
That depends on what you consider to be ‘okay’.
Beneath them was that boy, Jack. He sounded upset. He probably thought you were ignoring his texts out of spite. His messages were a mixture of asking what was wrong and saying you were overreacting over whatever it was he had done.
You couldn’t recall him doing anything to upset you recently, so it seemed there were things you had yet to find out about. What a pain.
Your other friends that you were supposed to spend time with today were expressing their concern for your absence.
Are you coming?
Where are you?
Is everything okay?
Please respond.
It made your heart ache. You needed to let them know you were at least alive.
As soon as you started writing a message of your own, the text began to buzz. The overhead light and lamps in your room began to strobe, and pixels of red flashed across your screen as a horrible humming emanated from the phone. It sounded as if the room was filled with a swarm of bees. It was deafening.
Then you noticed those shackles.
Those red, glowing shackles that dragged you here were flickering around your wrists once more. You sat straight up, ready for them to pull you somewhere new, but then the room went dark and the noise was gone.
You could still feel the sheets beneath your knees, and when you turned on the lamp beside your bed, the room looked untouched. At the very least, you knew you hadn’t been thrown through another portal.
There was no sign that anything had happened at all.
♡
Your phone would not turn on again after that whole…event…from the night before. At most, it would crackle at you, but the screen remained black. It was possible it just died from low battery, but you weren’t paying attention to that. You wondered what the odds were that Charlie would have a compatible charger.
You could ask her about it later.
The two of you were back on the grind to find a way to access the living world. Once again, Vaggie had to hang back. They decided it would be best for someone to make the hotel slightly more presentable in case the potential patron decided to stop by that evening. A good call, in your opinion.
Beggars can’t be choosers, but their place didn’t seem particularly livable from the outside. Hence, why you thought it would be a good spot to hunker down to begin with.
You and Charlie had slipped into her dad’s place again, this time undetected. After checking out the room of relics once more and without any interruptions, you found nothing that seemed to be of use (from what you could tell, shit was written in ancient tongue).
Your next stop was library where you decided to split up in order to cover more ground.
Now, you wandered aimlessly through the towering shelves of books, unsure of where to start. Having no clue how it was all organized, you settled on the tactic of picking out books at random and letting your luck guide you.
It wasn’t going so well.
You were able to find only one or two books pertaining to the ‘mortal’ world, but neither had anything to do with accessing it. They more so covered history of civilization and travel guides once you were there.
Pulling out another book that looked to be promising, you sighed as that, too, ended up being a dud. Half an hour had easily passed since you began your search, and you were growing despondent.
You wanted to believe that there was some way to get back. Charlie and Vaggie had said so themselves. But if Charlie’s old home was your best shot, you didn’t like your odds looking anywhere else.
No matter how much you tried to stay optimistic, you couldn’t help but dwell on the possibility of being truly stuck here. Finding a way out was starting to feel like finding a needle in a haystack, especially now that you were rummaging through a library that easily held thousands of books.
You hated the thought of not being able to see your friends again. Your family. Stuck in a world where there was a target on your back for simply existing in it.
Your energy was beginning to dwindle. You were slowing down, and your heart felt so heavy.
And you hated it.
You hated the way your vision was beginning to blur and how your sunglasses were fogging up as your face grew warmer.
Your sleeve wiped away the first tear that threatened to slip past, but you were too slow for the second. It left a wet streak down your cheek before you were able to dab it away. You wanted to be careful of your makeup.
When Charlie was getting you ready earlier, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her about the paint missing from your hands. You wanted to, but every time you thought you found the courage to say it, your throat grew tight, choking you into silence.
The most you could do was suggest a setting spray or powder to make sure it really stayed put. You told her you were just worried about the possibility of it coming off. Even if you couldn’t pull the truth from your own mouth, you wanted to take whatever precautions you could.
Your precautions, it seemed, were still not enough as the paint transferred onto your sleeve. Leave it to tears to ruin a girl’s makeup. You need to find someplace with a reflection to see if you could cover it up somehow.
As if on cue, you heard Charlie walking into your aisle. You felt relieved as she could probably blend the new smudges you’d created before anyone could see them.
“Hey, sorry but do you think you could help me out real quick?” you ask as you turned to her with your hand covering your cheek.
You nearly jumped out of your skin as you were greeted not by the sight of your newest friend but her father instead.
His hands were propped up on his staff, and his eyebrows were raised nearly to his hairline. He had a smug smile on his face to compliment it. Like he had caught you in the act.
There was nothing suspicious about looking at books in a library, though. Was there?
Adjusting your sunglasses so they were back in place, you put on the most charming smile you could conjure.
‘Hi—Good morning, Mr. Morningstar!”
“Hello, again,” he hummed, tilting his head as he watched you. “I didn’t think I would be seeing you again so soon.”
“Right, uh…Well, we had to leave in such a hurry yesterday. Charlie wasn’t able to find what she came for, so we’re back!” You lifted your shoulders to appear more excited than you were. At least you weren’t lying.
His finger started tapping on his apple.
“It’s quite interesting she didn’t think to give me any heads up. Almost like she’s trying to hide something…” He looked down at the book you were still holding for a moment then back at you.
Your heartrate spiked.
“What is it you’re looking for exactly?” He walked up next to you and made an act of looking through some of the books on the shelves you had just gone through.
“Huh? Oh, I’m not completely sure what Charlie needs, but she said I was welcome to look around in here,” you said, holding the book closer to your chest in hopes of hiding its title. “But I understand it’s your library, so if you’d prefer I not be in here, I’ll leave.”
He paused. With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes and pressed the apple of his staff to his lips.
“Look,” he began, turning back around to face you, “you said you were relatively new here, correct?”
You nodded, unsure of where this was going.
“I don’t know how it happened, but I can imagine the change was sudden, and it can be pretty hard to accept,” he said as he made a gesture with his hand. “I don’t blame you for seeking out ways to feel like you’re still in touch with your life before.”
You looked away, tight lipped.
It was hard, but you didn’t want to have to accept it. You weren’t dead. Not yet. Which meant returning to your life before was still an option for you.
“I’m very grateful to have met your daughter,” you said, shaking your head and looking back at him.
His eyes were trained on you, and it no longer felt as if he was trying to look through you or figure out your intentions. Rather, he was looking at you.
“It all would’ve been much worse for me if I hadn’t,” you continued. “She’s given me a safe place to stay and has been trying to help me in any way she can, and I feel very lucky for that.”
You looked back at him with a soft smile. Soft but genuine. Meeting Charlie and Vaggie was the only bout of good luck you’d had since being sent to Hell.
A smile grew on his face in return, and for once, you didn’t feel threatened by it.
“That makes me happy to hear,” he said. “She’s always been much too kind for a place like this.”
“I suppose so,” you chuckled. “I think that just means you did a pretty good job raising her.”
“Aha…I hope so…” he glanced away, sharp teeth beginning to peek through his lips. He then reached a hand out towards you. “May I see that book?”
Hesitating for a moment, you passed it to him. He read over the title before looking up at the endless shelves.
“Come with me,” he said, walking down the aisle.
You followed him in silence. As he turned the corner, you passed a large arched window that allowed red light to stream through. It illuminated the few specs of dust in the air, and when he walked through it, it turned his hair and skin a blush pink.
As you passed under the light, it felt as though all your prior nervousness washed away.
Yesterday, you wanted nothing more than to be as far from this man as possible.
Now, you felt at ease as he guided you through his labyrinth of a library.
He began pulling books from the shelves here and there, handing them off to you. When you looked them over, you realized they were all pertaining to the living world. You knew better than to hope he’d give you one that held the key to getting home…but what if?
You chatted with him a bit about Charlie and her hotel as you went on through the aisles. You were a little surprised by how much he didn’t know about her plans.
After a few minutes, your arms were filled with a stack almost up to your chin.
“That should do it!” he announced, turning to you with a wide grin as he brushed the dust from his hands. His eyes lingered on your face.
“Thank you so much! This is really kind of you,” you said politely. “I’ll be sure to give them back when I’m—uh…done with them!”
“No rush at all. I’ll be sure to stop by soon to see what all my dear daughter has been up to,” he said with a smirk.
You said your goodbyes and watched as he walked away. The smile adorning your face was subconscious, and your chest felt full and warm.
The weight of all the books was making your arms tired. You had yet to look at what he pulled out for you, but you could wait until you were back at the hotel to rifle through them. You probably wouldn’t be able to find anything better than what he had given you, so you decided to meet back up with Charlie.
She found some things that looked promising, as well. You figured she would have told you more about them if her eyes hadn’t landed on your cheek. The cheek that was out on display for the whole world to see as both your arms were full of the books her father had pulled out for you.
Next Chapter
♡ ♡ ♡
tag list: @spookysisters @for-hearthand-home @crescent-z @mixplara @juskonutoh @tinywolfiegirl @lafy-taffy @glowinthedarkbones1150
#lucifer magne#lucifer magne x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#lucifer morningstar#demon summoning#occult#charlie magne#charlie morningstar#Charlie Morningstar x Vaggie#Charlie Magne x Vaggie#i don't know their ship name my apologies#someone is famous#not in a good way :/
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𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐋𝐚𝐰 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 #𝟏𝟐
more HC's about "filming" with Law.
Warnings: smut, female reader, mentions of fisting and breeding
Originally posted on August 21st, 2023
Law loves the power he feels over you and your followers when the two of you stream together.
The jealous men in the comments, all wishing they could be him. He gets such a kick out of taunting them, making it known your pussy only belongs to himself, and nobody else.
But the other part he loves? Asking the viewers what exactly he should do to you.
He’ll be playing with your pussy lazily, rubbing circles into your clit or simply running a finger or two along your folds, simply getting you wet and ready for what you’re about to endure. Law watches the influx of comments, looking for an idea he likes. Most of them say things like “spread her so we can see better!”, “I’ve never wanted to be this man so badly before”, along with other dumb comments.
But then the people who send in tips with their comments come in, getting priority.
“Fist her”, the first one that Law notices says.
Law chuckles audibly, reading it aloud for you and everybody watching to hear. “Since you were so kind with tipping, I guess we’ll give it a shot.”
But he’s got to work you up to it. Law starts with one finger, quickly two, in your cunt. Swirling around and lathering up your juices, he begins his gentle attempts at stretching your hole. He scissors his fingers within you, deeming you ready for a third. The third finger adds a bit of that stretched sensation, and you’re actively moaning now, lightly squirming as Law holds you in his lap. Then the fourth finger joins, and you’re biting your lip, hissing as you prepare yourself for your lover’s entire fist.
The most the audience can see up to is your lips forming an “o” shape when Law’s fist slowly slides inside you. Your rolled back eyes are cut off from the camera’s view, something only Law can see.
Everyone, though, can see the way your juices gush out and slide down onto Law’s wrist. There’s a bit of a bulge in your lower abdomen, and it moves around as Law tries opening his hand, running all fingers and his palm along your gummy walls that burn with the stretch.
You’re screaming, legs shaking as Law fucks his fist inside you. He’s talking, taunting the audience and praising you, though none of it is registering in your mind. You cum, hard, squirting out onto the floor beneath you. There’s a huge influx of tips, comments and likes.
When Law’s fist leaves you, he begins reading through the tips again. One comment with a high number attached comes in, and suddenly everybody else starts commenting it too.
“Breed her!”
It’s like they’re all cheering Law on, demanding that he breeds you now. “Is that what you all want? To see her bred?” He asks, teasingly running a finger over your inner thighs and to your clit.
“Breed her! Breed her! Breed her,” all the comments read.
“Fine then. Let’s get her nice and bred, fill her up with my seed,” Law agrees with the comments, moving yours and his positions.
He moves you into a mating press, ensuring the camera can see your cunt with a good enough view so that they can all witness his cum pouring into you.
Law shoves his fat cock into you, pounding his hips to fuck you roughly. The noises in the room are ridiculous, and you almost wish you could see the comments and views, knowing the number would be one of your highest.
“Fuck, you’re just sucking me in, baby, aren’t you? Taking my cock so well, you just want my cum that bad, huh? You wanna get all full and knocked up, don’t you?”
“Yes, baby! O-ooh, fuck, harder, harder!” You scream, “stuff me with your babies, please!”
All you can hear is Law’s heavy moans, the sound of his skin slapping against yours, and the chiming of incoming tips.
“A-ahh, fuck! Fill me with your cum, please! L-La-“ you bit your lip, having nearly said his name. “Baby! Please, cum in my womb,” you cry out, loud enough that your audience will be able to hear; even with Law’s body pressing on you, therefore muffling any noises you make.
“Sh-shit,” he curses, shoving his cock as deeply into your pussy as possible, “‘m gonna cum, baby, gonna breed you like the good whore you are,” he growls.
You moan loudly, begging and whimpering as Law’s hot sticky cum starts shooting out, deep into your womb. You can feel it starting to fill you, meanwhile the audience can see as Law freezes his movements with one harsh thrust, balls slapping against your ass as he empties them into you.
You’re both moaning and whining into each other’s mouths, kissing through the intense orgasm you and Law are both having together.
Eventually, Law pulls out, taking the camera and aiming it directly at your cunt, using his fingers to spread your hole so that everybody can see all of the cum he’s stuffed inside of you. Law decides to leave the camera aimed at your pussy for a while, letting everyone, including himself, watch as the seed begins dripping out of your tired, over-fucked body, out onto the carpet underneath you.
And of course, you and Law had never gotten so many tips or views combined.
#trafalgar law x reader#trafalgar law x you#trafalgar law x y/n#trafalgar d water law x reader#trafalgar d law x reader#law x reader#law x reader smut#law x y/n#law x you
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