#the birthday questions have started coming up and i am so stuck
Text
Does anyone know how to want material things
#gamer txt.#the birthday questions have started coming up and i am so stuck#should i just wsk for drink? its my 18th so like. yeah?
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
bad news first - sjy (m)
this work contains smut - minors please do not interact
pairing. jake x fem!reader
synopsis. From the moment you'd met at eight to the day he moved to South Korea at fourteen, you and Jake were inseparable. But after years of being apart, you've come to terms with the fact that at twenty, you and Jake just aren't what you used to be. That is until you get a text from him, and all of a sudden, he's back by your side, doing his year abroad at the university you study at, and all your feelings for him float back up to the surface.
genre. college au, childhood friends to ???? to lovers, painful mutual pining, one bed trope..... a sprinkle of angst (my hand slipped) but mostly fluff i promise and smut (mdni!!!), also i made sunghoon really weird in this and idkw, this is set in scotland.. edinburgh uni rep!!
word count. 23k
author's note. everybody say happy belated birthday to @zreamy.. happy belated birthday zo!!! being 22 years and 6 days old is cooler than just 22 years old anyway.. hope you like it bestie... if you dont... well theres a building on campus thats 17 stories high sooo.. enjoy! i hope everyone else enjoys too, since this is a bday fic for zo she couldnt beta read so i had to raw dog this so if its terrible.. not my fault! lmk what u think!!
i also made a playlist for this, do listen along!!
“Alright kids, good news or bad news first?”
You looked at your teacher, then at the boy next to you, then back at your teacher. “Bad news first,” you said in unison.
You were only eight, but you were both wise enough to know that hearing good news second would assuage the blow of whatever these bad news were. Miss Dawson sighed as she crouched in front of you. “The bad news is your bus driver is on strike and won’t be coming. The good news is that your parents have been informed and are coming to pick you up soon.”
Following her instructions, you headed to the gymnasium and sat there silently among the other kids. Not many kids in your class rode the bus home, and the ones who did seemed to have drivers not on strike, so it was just the two of you. You were used to that, though - over January and February, you had made a sort of silent pact to stand and wait for the bus together. You sometimes shared snacks, but you never spoke. For some reason, you felt at ease with this boy, even though you didn’t know much about him. You had heard he had moved to Brisbane just at the start of this year, all the way from South Korea. You were pretty sure his name was Jake.
You handed him one of your Twix bars. Then he spoke. “I thought a strike was when you did really well in bowling.”
“Same,” you replied, mouth full of chocolate and caramel. “I’m not sure why that would keep the bus driver from picking us up.”
Jake looked at you with wide eyes, distress clear in them. “Do you think he went bowling instead of picking us up?”
This made you frown. “That’d be really rude.”
“It would. I always make sure to go bowling on the weekends, ‘cause if I missed school that’d be rude to Miss Dawson.”
You nodded your head in fervent agreement. “For sure.”
That weekend, his mum called your mum to ask if you wanted to go to the bowling alley with them. From then on, for the next six years, you were stuck together by glue.
--
Twelve years later, Jake’s name appearing on your phone screen has become such a rare sight, you don’t believe it right away. It takes you a few seconds of intense squinting at the letters to actually realise your eyes aren’t deceiving you.
jake.sim15
hey y/n!! you go to edinburgh uni right?
You type and delete three different responses before settling for a simple yeah, I am! what’s up?, hoping you sounded nonchalant even though you very much felt chalant. You thought that whatever you sent wouldn’t be as weird as taking forever to answer such a straightforward question.
As you wait for Jake’s reply, you scroll through your previous shared messages, noting with sadness that for three years in a row, the only instances you’d texted were to wish each other a happy birthday or when he reacted with a fire emoji to Stories of your dog, Milo. Before that, your last conversation was to congratulate each other about getting into your top choice universities and to discuss plans for your respective futures.
Futures that used to include each other, you think. His reply appears at the bottom of your screen before melancholy can fill your heart.
jake.sim15
i applied to go there for my year abroad next year
annnnd
i got in !! heh
You shoot up straight from your seat on the lounge chaise you’d been sunbathing on, a loud “Oh my God!” involuntarily escaping your mouth.
“What? What happened? Is everything okay?” Chaewon asks frantically, rushing over to your side. “Oh,” she says when she sees your phone. “It’s a text… from a boy?”
This makes Yunjin, previously unbothered by your panic, rise from her seat and take off her sunglasses. “A boy? Show me,” she demands, snatching your phone from your hands before you can protest. Upon seeing the texts on your screen, she lets out a loud gasp. “It’s not just any boy! It’s the one and only Jake Sim himself.”
“Give that back!” you plead, hand reaching for your phone, but Yunjin is already walking away.
“And he’s coming to Edi this September, apparently. He says he’s sorry for not saying anything earlier, but he was waiting for an answer up until now.” She scoffs. “Leave it to our uni to tell someone they’re in less than two months before term starts. Oh, you’re the first person he’s told, Y/N! After his parents. How cute,” she coos, protesting when you snatch your phone back from her. “Hey! I was reading that.”
“Those are my texts, Yunjin. I’m the one who’s meant to read them.”
She shrugs. “You would’ve told us anyway.”
“What are you going to reply?” Chaewon asks. With the both of them hovering over your shoulders and watching as you type a response, a sort of stage fright comes over you, making you send what might be the most unoriginal reply known to man.
“Awesome? Seriously, Y/N?” Yunjin reads, disproportionately disgusted with you.
“That’s a lot of exclamation marks. It almost makes it look like you don’t mean it,” Chaewon says.
“I do mean it!”
“Well, he seems to like it. A smiling-with-teeth emoji is a good sign, right?” she asks in an attempt to make you feel better.
“He has automatic caps off. That man is run-through,” Yunjin says, shaking her head as she walks back to her sunbed.
“You were excited about him texting me just a second ago,” you reproach.
“Yeah, before I found out he was a whore.”
“Yunjin, you know we don't slut-shame here!” Chaewon exclaims. Before Yunjin can say anything even worse in response, your phone starts ringing, and Jake’s name appears on your screen. “He’s calling you?” Chaewon gasps, making Yunjin sit up with a start for the second time in less than five minutes.
“This man is insane,” she remarks with all the seriousness in the world.
You run away from your friends, finding refuge in the outside kitchen area out of earshot. They don’t need to hear your conversation with Jake. You love them, but they can be weirdly unsupportive in moments like these.
“Hey, Jake,” you greet, hoping he doesn’t notice the breathlessness in your voice. It was because you had just ran, of course - you didn’t want him to think you were so nervous about talking to him after such a long time, you could barely breathe. Because you weren’t. At all.
“Hey, Y/N!” he replies, and the excitement in his voice makes your heart melt. “I hope it’s not weird that I called, I just thought it’d be nicer than texting, is that okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine, it’s nice to hear your voice,” you say before you can really think about it, and cringe at your own words. Years without talking and the world’s worst line is the first thing you say to Jake. Thankfully, before you start excruciating yourself, a chuckle pours out of Jake’s throat and blesses your ears.
“It’s nice to hear your voice, too. What are you up to?”
“Oh, I’m on vacation with my friends. One of them has a rich aunt who owns a villa in southern Italy, so we’re just chilling by the pool right now.”
“You always wanted to go to Italy! That sounds so nice,” he says. Your breath catches gently in your throat - he remembers, you note.
“Yeah, it really is. What about you, how are you spending the summer?”
Jake tells you about the local bookstore owned by a grandpa that’s always had a soft spot for him and that gave him a part-time job for the summer. “I’m trying to save up as much money as I can before I leave. If I treat you to a meal, will you show me around the city?” he asks, and you can hear the grin in his voice. It makes you realise how much you’ve actually missed him.
“You don’t need to treat me to a meal, I’ll show you around anyway.”
Still, he insists, and you find yourself giving in quickly - because it’s Jake or because free food is on the table, you’re not sure. Probably both.
You and Jake get to talking, but fitting years and years of catching up into one conversation is an impossible task, and before you know it, when you check your phone, you’ve been talking for over an hour. Yunjin is angrily waving at you, pointing at her stomach to indicate hunger like a caveman who’s just learned how to communicate. You apologise to Jake, telling him you have to go, and plan to meet during fresher’s week before you hang up.
A few hours later, you get a text from him saying it was nice talking to you and jokingly asking whether Yunjin was satisfied with lunch. It’s innocuous, but it opens a gate for more texting, which leads to long, rambling voice messages, which leads to late-night phone calls that remind you of when you were fifteen and still kept in touch. When August fades into September, you feel like you’ve got your best friend back.
You remember why you were so in love with him at fourteen.
--
You see Jake before he sees you.
Among the throngs of people, you manage to spot the dark, messy flop of hair on his head weighed down by a nice pair of wireless headphones. After a thirteen-hour flight from Seoul, a four-hour layover in Frankfurt and a final, two-hour flight to Edinburgh, he looks rightfully exhausted, using what looks like the last of his energy to spot the exit and the airport bus stop. Even wearing a simple denim jacket, white tee and grey sweatpants, he’s so gorgeous you forget what you came here for, until he almost walks right past you without seeing you. You put yourself in his path and hold your hand-written banner up, making yourself as obvious as you can as you call out his name.
When he sees you, he stops dead in his tracks for a second, someone almost running into him before he remembers the crowd behind him. His tired features break out into a bright smile that has your heartbeat speeding up so much, you think it might run out of your chest.
He had told you not to come, that it would be late for you and he didn’t want to bother you, but you had managed to get the information of his arrival before he forbade you from picking him up so you did it anyway, wanting to surprise him. After years of being apart, rather than waiting another day, you wanted to see him as soon as possible.
Jake briskly makes his way to you, dropping his bags next to him on the floor as he engulfs you in a hug, warm and tight as if he’s trying to make up for all those years. You hug him back as if someone would appear out of thin air and take him away from you again.
“This was the longest day of my life, I’m so happy to see you,” he says when he pulls away, and you’re so happy you can’t even say anything back, resorting to giggling and lightly swatting non-existent dust off of his shoulders.
As you wait for the bus, he tells you about every trivial thing that happened to him on his trip, from how expensive a sandwich is at the airport to the German kid sitting in front of him that kept turning around to stare at him on his second flight.
“How did you know he was German?” you ask, amused.
Jake pauses. “Just vibes.”
Conversation on the bus is slightly disjointed as you jump from topic to topic with random pauses here and there before one of you finds something to talk about - but it’s okay, you hadn’t expected for the two of you to be as easy as before. It’s more awe at seeing each other after such a long time than awkwardness. Even though you’d caught up over summer, there was a world of difference between speaking on the phone and actually sitting next to him. You notice things like the shine of his hair, the creases that form on the sides of his lips when he smiles, or, unfortunately for you, the veins that run along his forearms and hands - things you hadn’t noticed previously thanks to the sometimes questionable quality of the front camera of his phone. Once in a while, your thigh brushes against his, and it reminds you that he’s really here. Even that he’s real, at all.
In a tragic turn of events, Jake lives in the student accommodation you used to live in in first year, and coming back to it two years later is slightly traumatising. His three-person flat is in a different building as your old one, and you marvel at how it somehow still smells the same - like dusty, decade-old carpeting and the permanent stench of students’ dubitable cooking. He’s the first one to move in, which makes the place slightly eerie, but it means that you’re not bothering anyone by unpacking Jake’s stuff and cooking Shin Ramyun the previous tenants had left behind at 11pm.
Your late dinner was meant for you to take a small break, watch a couple episodes of Friends which Jake had been shocked to learn you’d never watched, and you had been shocked to learn he was a die-hard fan of (since one year ago), then get back to unpacking. But the ramen sends an already exhausted Jake into a food coma so intense, he falls asleep on your shoulder five minutes into the second episode.
You let him sleep as long as he needs, turning the volume down on his laptop and stifling your chuckles as much as you can. You feel like a cat has fallen asleep in your lap - you are now obliged by law to stay still until Jake wakes up. It’s not until an hour later that Jake’s uncomfortable sleeping position forces him awake, lifting his head off of your shoulder with a grunt. He looks around himself, at his room that’s not quite familiar to him yet, then at you, eyes still scrunched with sleepiness as a grin blooms onto his lips.
“Sorry,” clearing his throat of its grogginess. “What time is it?”
“It’s almost one a.m,” you reply, and his eyes go wide.
“You should’ve woken me up! Does your shoulder hurt?” he asks, much more alarmed than he should be, and it makes you laugh.
“It’s all good. But now that you’re awake, I should probably head home.”
“I’ll get you an Uber,” he says, already pulling out his phone.
“It’s fine, Jake, my place is a ten-minute walk from here. I live just up the road.”
Jake’s fingers on his phone pause as he looks up at you. “Then I’ll walk you home.” He lifts a finger in warning when he sees you start to protest. “And don’t fight me on this. You did so much today, it’s the least I can do.”
As much as you love the idea of spending more time with Jake, even if it’s just ten minutes, you still don’t want to bother him when you know how tired he is. “It’s really safe around here. I can just text you when I’m home, if you’re worried about me getting kidnapped or something,” you say, taking his jacket from his hands and placing it back on his desk chair.
He grabs it back, putting it on before you can take it from him again, and rummages through one of his suitcases for a black, woolly scarf. Neither of you speaks as he wraps it tight around your neck, even though the early September weather isn’t cold enough to warrant it. His hands stop briefly on the scarf and a small smile spreads on his lips. You hope he doesn’t hear your sharp intake of breath when your eyes meet. “It’s not about that,” he says simply, voice low and unlike you’ve ever heard it before. You don’t think his voice had quite finished cracking when he’d moved away back then.
Suddenly, he steps away, grabs his keys, and heads for the door. “Let’s go!” he says, voice back to its usual cheery tone. You don’t find it in you to question him, so you just follow him out, welcoming the night breeze that cools down your burning cheeks with open arms.
The walk to your place is mostly done in comfortable silence, but it still goes by too quickly for your liking. You keep your hands in your pockets to prevent yourself from doing something stupid, like reaching out for Jake’s hand that swishes back-and-forth as he walks. Instead, you bury your nose in his scarf and relish in the unfamiliar but comforting smell that his cologne has left behind on the fabric. You hug goodbye when you reach your flat, and you have to remind yourself to let go. He insists on you keeping the scarf. “My mum packed me, like, three, so you can have that one.”
“Your mum still pack your things for you, does she?” you ask, tone playful.
“No-” he says, voice slightly whiny, before he realises you’re just teasing him. “Whatever,” he chuckles, ruffling your hair. You hope the streetlights aren’t bright enough for him to notice the flustered look on your face. The both of you stand there awkwardly for a second, before he lets out another chuckle. “Right. See you tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” you beam.
“Okay,” he says, but still doesn’t make a move to leave. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll be off then.” He gives you one last smile then turns around, burying his hands in his pockets, and you watch as he walks away.
“Get home safe,” you call out after a few seconds.
He pivots on his heels, and, with a wave of his hand, says, “I will! Go inside.”
“Good night!”
“Night, Y/N!”
When you walk into your living room, Yunjin is sitting on the couch, arms crossed over her chest, gaze trained on the wall opposite her, one lamp lighting the otherwise completely dark room. She looks like a detective in one of those bad cop shows.
“Gosh, what’s all this for?”
“You’re back awfully late,” she says, neither looking at you nor answering your question.
“Yeah, I was with Jake,” you shrug, heading into the kitchen for a glass of water. She abruptly gets up from her seat, following you into the other room and staying close behind you.
“And?” she demands, mouth way too close to your ear and making you start.
“And what?” you ask.
“What do you mean and what?!” she says, clearly agitated. “I want to know everything!”
“There’s nothing to say, really. He seemed happy I picked him up from the airport, then I helped him unpack. He lives in Riego, by the way.”
“Ew.”
“I know, it was awful going back there.”
The two of you stare at each other as you drink your water. “Well?” she asks.
“What?”
“Is that it?”
You fill your glass again to take it into your bedroom. “I don’t know, we just ate and watched Friends.”
“You hate shows with laughing tracks,” she states like it’s an accusation.
“It wasn’t actually that bad,” you reply, shrugging.
She tuts. “Love will do ugly, ugly things to a person.”
“You’ve been in a loving relationship for the past two years.”
“This isn’t about me. Can we talk about how you’re still in love with the same loser from when you were ten?”
“I was fourteen, and don’t call Jake a loser when you haven’t even met him.” You ignore the roll of her eyes. “And I’m not. Not anymore. I’m just happy to have my friend back.” Yunjin gives you a look. “Okay, maybe I’m still a little bit in love with him. But it’s so little, it’s barely there.” Her expression is unchangingly unimpressed and you can’t help but throw in the towel. “Alright, fine. I still love him, what about it?”
“You’re pathetic.”
“I know that, no need to remind me.”
“Are you gonna do something about it?”
“My patheticness? I’ve tried, didn’t really work.”
“No, idiot, about Jake. You should go and get him! It’d be so sexy if you got together as 20-somethings after knowing each other since you were babies.”
“We were eight when we met. And I don’t know if sexy is the word I’d use here.”
“Anything is sexy if you try hard enough,” she says, and you have to laugh. “Anyways, you should confess your undying love and tell him you’ve felt that way since you met.”
“I wasn’t-”
“Guys might not show it, but they probably get all hot for stuff like that. Boosts their ego and shit.”
“Yunjin, I just got my friend back, I’m not gonna risk it. Plus, who knows, I might not actually be in love with him. It might just be my emotions acting up, like, seeing someone I used to like after a while. We’ve both changed so much, once I get to know him more now, I might not even feel the way I used to.”
“Notice how you’ve used the word might twice in ten seconds? You’re just trying to find excuses.”
You groan. “This is why I hate English Lit people.”
“You do English Lit.”
“I know, and I’m the only nice person that does it.” In your head, you add and Jake, but saying it out loud would only make this conversation worse for you.
“What’s that scarf, by the way? Did he give you that?”
You look down at the scarf like it’s a piece of incriminating evidence. “Can you stop grilling me, please? It’s late.”
“You’re not answering my question.”
You sighed deeply. “Fine. Yes, he gave me-”
“It’s not even that cold outside!” she exclaimed in an outrage. “Don’t tell me he also walked you home?”
You pause. “He did.”
She gasped. “He walked you home because he’s in love with you.”
“He walked me home because he’s a good friend that looks after me.”
“He walked you home because he realised how hot you’ve gotten and he wants some of that.”
All you can do is sigh. “Whatever. I’m going to bed.”
“If you weren’t such a coward, you wouldn’t be going to bed alone.”
“Whatever!” you say, shutting the door behind you, shaking that preposterous conversation out of your head. When you get into bed, it takes you at least half-an-hour before you can settle down, but you know your constant tossing and turning isn’t due to your inability to find a comfortable enough position to sleep in. Between your evening with Jake and Yunjin’s pestering, thoughts run wild and incoherent through your head.
You want to tell her every little thing that happened with Jake tonight, but you’re afraid it might do you more harm than good. She is most definitely the type of friend who will take the smallest action a guy did for you or the most meaningless thing he might have said and turn it into a sign that he has the hots for you, which usually does wonders for your confidence, but right now, you don’t need that kind of delusion. Did seeing your childhood best friend you used to secretly harbour feelings for make you feel some type of way? Of course, but that doesn’t mean you still love him after all this time, after six years of being apart, the majority of those years spent with no contact. It wasn’t like you parted ways with resentment, or anything of that sort, far from it; rather, you drifted apart naturally, as two teenagers with over 7000 kilometres between them would. At first, you’d call frequently and even write each other letters - but as you became more preoccupied with school, friends, and extracurriculars, your phones gradually rang less and your mailboxes became gradually emptier. You don’t even remember who sent the last, unanswered letter.
Tonight isn’t the first time you replay the moment Jake announced that he would go away, but it’s the first time it’s a bittersweet memory. It used to only be bitter - but now that you’ve reconnected, you can look back at it with fondness, wishing you could tell fourteen-year-old you the hurt would only last so long.
It hadn’t started unusually.
“So, bad news first, right?”
In your six years of friendship with Jake, this had been the first time you’d really been wary of what he would say next. The look on his face told you that this bad news wouldn’t be as easy to shake off as usual. Your definition of bad news was things like I got grounded so I can’t hang out, I forgot we had a test tomorrow so I can’t hang out, my allergies are acting up again so I can’t hang out.
“I’m moving to Korea next month.”
I’m on another continent, so I can’t hang out.
You remember the words not quite making sense at the time. “Oh? How long are you staying there?” you said, taking a bite of your strawberry ice cream which Jake had insisted on paying for, even though you knew he didn’t get much allowance.
“Forever.”
You stopped chewing, and the ice cream melted uncomfortably in your mouth. You don’t know how long you stayed there, frozen as you stared at your best friend in disbelief. It wasn’t until he lightly shoved your shoulder, only meeting your eyes for a split second, that you remembered to swallow and to say something.
“Forever as in… You won’t live here anymore? At all?”
Jake shook his head. He kept his eyes trained on the vanilla-chocolate ice cream sandwich he’d left in its wrapper. In the blazing hot Brisbane summer, it had probably fully melted two minutes ago. “At all.”
“Oh,” was all you found yourself able to say. For some reason, you hoped that continuing to eat your ice cream would stop you from crying, but to no avail. Hot, salty tears quickly started raining down your cheeks, mixing with the sweetness of your ice cream when they reached your lips.
“It’s my dad’s work. Same reason why I moved here when we were kids in the first place. They wanted him here then, they want him back there now. We just have to follow,” Jake explained, sounding just as upset as you felt.
“Right.”
“Are you mad at me?” Jake asked, worry clear in his voice, and finally turned to face you. At the sight of you crying, he let out a small oh, tears of his own pooling in his eyes.
You frowned. “Of course not. I’m never mad at you, you know that. I just… You’re my best friend, Jakey. It’s gonna be so lame around here without you.”
“It’ll be lame there without you, too.”
You attempted a smile. “Well, of course. But at least you’ll get to make new friends, see new places. You’ll be in a whole other country, I’m sure you’ll have fun there. I’m gonna be stuck in boring old Brisbane for the foreseeable future.”
“Do you know how offended our friends would be if they heard you speaking right now?” he asked, nudging your shoulder with his.
You sniffled and let out a chuckle. “They’re all great, but… I don’t like them nearly as much as I like you,” you said, staring down at your hands, hoping he wouldn’t realise exactly what you meant by that statement.
A weight was lifted off of your shoulders when Jake answered. “I like you the most too, Y/N.” You tried not to think too much about whether he’d meant it platonically or romantically - none of that mattered anymore. All that mattered was the feeling of his arms around you, his warmth enveloping your whole body, his familiar scent that you already missed.
You felt him take a deep breath against you before he pulled away. He sniffled and did his best to put on a smile. “Right, enough of that. I’m not leaving until next month, so don’t think you’re rid of me just yet,” he joked, and it helped alleviate the weight on your heart, even if just a little. “You said you had something to tell me? Good news after bad news, and all that.”
“Oh. Right. I forgot about that.”
You thought for a second. Today was the day you had planned to confess your feelings to Jake - you’d only told him you had good news to share. But what was the point now that he was leaving? If he felt the same way, it would only make his departure that much harder, and if he didn’t, it would ruin your last moments together. It just wasn’t worth it.
Jake tilted his head, waiting for you to speak. In a split second, you made yourself forget your disappointment over having built the courage to tell him how you felt only for it all to fall through, and resolved to make the most of Jake’s last month here. You wiped your tears and mirrored his small smile as best you could. “Um, it wasn’t anything much. My mum made those cowboy cookies you like.”
Jake’s head fell back as he groaned in anticipation. “If she wasn’t happily married with three kids, I’d marry your mum. Let’s go right now.”
You laughed. “There’d be a bit of an age gap there.”
“We’d make it work,” Jake joked, throwing his arm around your shoulders as you walked towards your house. He beamed down at you, his bright, boyish smile that you loved to bits, and you beamed up at him as you grabbed the hand that hung off your shoulder in your own.
You walked as happily as you could. “Do you even speak Korean?” you suddenly asked.
Jake halted abruptly in his steps, a gravely offended look on his face. When you looked back at him in confusion, he rolled his eyes and started walking again, pulling you with him. “It’s literally my mother tongue, Y/N. I speak it every day at home.”
“Oh, right.”
At the time, you thought nothing could come between you and Jake. Not anyone, not anything, neither distance nor time. But they did. A week after he’d left, a boy from your class you’d talked to maybe once or twice asked you out on a date. You weren’t sure why, but you said yes. Then you said yes to being his girlfriend, even though you didn’t like him all that much, and you even said yes to reducing your texting with Jake because it made him jealous. When you’d broken up with him and wanted to catch up with Jake and apologise for your absence, you’d found that his new school in Seoul was a lot more demanding than yours in Brisbane, and he had to spend most of his evenings in academies if he wanted to get into a nice university. It’s when you learned that he’d be staying in South Korea for college that you decided to leave Australia too. Brisbane was a lot less fun without him there - why bother staying? You couldn’t go to him because of the language barrier and the cost of university there. If you were to essentially uproot your life, might as well go somewhere you could get a scholarship and understand the people around you.
It seemed insane that someone you had thought would be by your side for the rest of your life, someone that was part of your most cherished memories, had been reduced to someone you casually texted once in a while. It seems even more insane that now that you’re finally done essentially grieving your friendship with Jake, he stands in front of you again, six inches taller but still donning those puppy-like eyes and smile of his.
For your sake, you just hoped you wouldn’t be as in love with him at twenty as you were at fourteen.
--
The next day, you show Jake around campus, which wouldn’t normally take more than ten minutes, but takes double that time because of the sheer amount of people there. Between the Societies Fair taking up most of the square, the tour guides leading freshers, walking slowly and taking in their new campus, and the pizza and drinks stands, freshers’ week always turns campus into what feels like the busiest place on Earth. You try not to let it hit a nerve for Jake’s sake, who’s clearly ecstatic at all the activity, but you like this place a lot more when it’s quieter. You walk through the Fair, laughing as Jake marvels at all the different clubs and societies at the Uni.
“Gardening Society? Dungeons & Dragons Society? Wine society?” he exclaims, astonishment growing with every passing stand.
“And this is only the first day. They also have a Taylor Swift Society.” He grabs a flyer from about every society, even though you know he’ll join between two to zero of them.
When you walk out, there’s a girl handing out samples of shampoo and conditioner, and you let her give you one, more out of politeness than anything.
“These are so useless,” you start, and Jake chuckles, unaware of the incoming rant. “I had that job of distributing them last year, and we would get a tip if we gave them all out. So naturally I put a bunch in my bag, but then I had to use them for like two weeks.” You sigh. “First of all, my hair did not like it. And second, the ratio is so off. There’s way more conditioner than shampoo when it should be the other way around, so you have to condition your hair even though it’s not properly clean. So stupid.”
“Sounds terrible,” Jake says, laughing. “Is that why you’re not doing it this year?”
“Oh… Not really. I dated the guy that takes care of this promo stuff, so it would’ve been kinda awkward…” you trail, immediately wishing you could backtrack on conversation. Talking about your ex with Jake wasn’t on your to-do list for today. Or ever.
“You dated your boss?”
“The manager, yeah, I guess. He was only 24, though, don’t worry.”
“I’m more worried about the power imbalance than the age gap there.”
You shrug, looking down at your shoes. “It’s not like he was that high up.”
“So, what happened? Why did you break up?”
“Well, he acted like our four-year age difference meant he could treat me like a little kid. It was nice being taken care of at first but then I realised how condescending he was and dumped him.”
“How long were you together?”
You pause. “Two weeks,” you admit abashedly, making Jake chuckle. “At least he didn’t waste my time and showed his red flags early on.”
“Any boyfriends since?” he asks, and you wonder whether you’re making up the unsure tone of his voice. As if he’s curious, but doesn’t want to show it too much. You hope you’re not making it up.
“A few, but they never last very long with me,” you say, a meek smile on your lips. “Furthest I got was three months.”
“And why didn’t it work out with three-months-guy?”
“He started comparing me to his mum a bit too often.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah, I ran out of there without looking back.”
“Well, it’s nice to see you’ve got high standards. I would hate to see you date just any loser.”
You want to say, High standards or issues?, but you don’t want to make it weird, so you play it cool instead. “I would never. I have a mental checklist with everything a guy needs to have for me to date him.”
“A checklist? I have to hear about this.”
You sigh, debating whether you should tell him about it. Would he notice it’s based on him? Would he notice the only person that could tick practically every box was none other than him? Jake gently elbows your side, goading you on. When you look at him, he’s got a shit-eating grin playing on his lips, and you give in. You look off into the distance as you start listing your requirements. “Well, there’s all your basics like funny, taller than me but not too much, ‘cause I don’t want neck cramps, smart, takes uni seriously, has plans for his future, easy to talk to, not emotionally stunted and can actually have a vulnerable conversation. It’s also a bonus if he has a nice face.”
“How much of a bonus?”
You think for a second. “It’s more a dealbreaker than a bonus, actually. Nice smile is a must, definitely.”
“Okay. Got any more specifics?”
“I do have some particular ones. It’s nice if he’s a reader, but it’s terrible if it makes him think he’s better than everyone or if he tries to sound smarter than me. I like it if he has experience, I don’t want to have to teach him everything. But obviously I don’t want him to still be in love with his ex. Guys and their first loves, I swear… I also don’t really like picky eaters.” You look over at Jake and take a double-take. He’s typing away on his phone, but because of his privacy screen protector, you can’t see anything. You huff. “I also don’t like it if he has those protective screens on his phone. What’s on there that’s so important that I can’t take a peek? What are you even doing?”
The sweet sound of Jake’s giggles erases any trace of annoyance that you felt seconds ago. He turns his screen towards you, showing the list of mostly ticked boxes that he’s written up. “See? I check most of these,” he says with a proud smile. “Guess your standards aren’t that high.” You don’t tell him that your standards are high, he’s just that amazing.
You do your best to look only amused at this even though inside, you’re all but freaking out. “Which are you missing?”
“Well, I clearly own a privacy screen. And I don’t have much experience. Not nearly as much as you, by the sounds of it,” he admits, somewhat sheepish. “But other than that, I’m practically the perfect man for you.” He looks down at you with a smile so bright, it makes you wish you had brought sunglasses. It takes everything in you not to scream right then and there. Yes, Jake, you are the perfect man for me, but I wish you wouldn’t say it like it was a joke.
You let out a stiff chuckle, and, rather than saying something stupid and possibly damaging, shift the conversation to him. “What do you mean by not much experience? Have you not dated anyone?”
Jake sighs. “Nope, not anyone. I went on a few dates, you know, went through a few talking stages and all that, but it never went much further. There was always something…” He glances at you then. “Missing.”
“I know that feeling,” you say with a chuckle, and he laughs too, a breathy sound.
“I don’t have a checklist to pinpoint what it is, though.”
You smile. “You should try, it might help.”
“I just… I guess I’m like you in that I also have high standards. But it made me not even want to give anyone a chance, especially since I knew it wouldn’t end up anywhere.”
“Don’t tell me no one has ever managed to reach the great Jake Sim’s standards?” you ask, trying to keep your tone light.
Jake smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Of course someone has. She’s the whole reason I have standards in the first place. It’s not my standards I compare people to, it’s her.”
Jealousy has never made you feel as sad as it is right now. “And… it didn’t work out between you?”
Jake looks at you, eyes searching for something in yours but seemingly not finding it, and so he turns his gaze away. You don’t know why you feel so disappointed. “Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’. “She didn’t feel the same way.”
Whoever this girl is, you can’t believe how stupid she is for passing up the opportunity to have Jake Sim. “That’s… It sucks, I’m sorry,” you say. You don’t think spitting on this girl would make him feel any better, so you keep those thoughts to yourself.
“It’s okay,” he says with a small smile. “It was a while ago already.”
“Doesn’t sound like you’re quite over it, though,” you say, and you’re surprised but glad to see his smile widen.
“That’s true.” His eyes meet yours again. “I don’t think I’ll be over her anytime soon, either.” You have to look away to shield the pain that flashes through your eyes from him.
Pretending you don’t have feelings for your best friend and that you’re okay with him being in love with someone else is like riding a bike: even after years of not doing it, it only takes a few minutes for you to be able to do it perfectly again. Muscle memory, if you will. So you sigh dramatically and throw your arm around Jake’s shoulder, slightly pulling him down to your level. “Don’t worry. We’re going to have so much fun this year, you’ll completely forget about her. Promise. She doesn’t know what she’s missing. Yeah?”
He smiles down at you. You want nothing more but that glint of melancholy in his eyes to be gone. “Yeah.”
--
Jake is only half-glad to see you haven’t changed much from your childhood and early teenage years. You’re still just as pretty, just as warm; it’s still as comfortable to be around you. You’re also still as dense.
Then and now, he did everything he could to make his feelings for you very, very obvious. Either you’re completely oblivious, or the idea of dating him is so horrifying to you, you understand but pretend you don’t. He really hopes it’s the former.
He arrived in Edinburgh just a bit over a week ago, and you’ve seen each other almost every day. Out of those times, there isn’t a single one where he hasn’t tried to send something your way - something that says, hey, what if we stopped being friends and dated instead? Wouldn’t that be cool? Can’t you see how desperately I love you?, but you never latch on. The ball’s in your court, and he wants you to throw it back, but it’s been feeling more like a boomerang that always hits him right in the face when it circles back than a game of catch.
But he’s reminding himself not to be too greedy. Even if it’s just as friends, at least he has you back, so he’s satisfied with that. For now.
His first class of the year is on the following Tuesday morning, a ninety-minute seminar specifically made for exchange students called Discover Scotland. (He has Mondays free, resulting in a three-day weekend, which you and your 9am Monday tutorial are very envious of.) As interesting as the English Lit courses he’s taking seem, it’s this one he’s most looking forward to - except for the one class he shares with you, of course. Not even because of the seminars themselves, which will be about all sorts of topics on Scottish culture and history, but because of the coursework, as crazy as that sounds. It consists of a singular project, not due until the very last day of the semester, in which he has to travel to at least three different places in the country, research its background and provide a detailed account of his experience there. It can take any form: a written report, an in-class presentation, a podcast, anything. He could even film a TikTok if he wanted. Jake knew that being part of the Arts & Crafts club for two years in a row back in Seoul wasn’t for nothing - his scrapbooking skills would finally have their time to shine.
That afternoon, he practically snatches you as you come out of your lecture, giving you little time to say bye to your friends, and makes you take him to the biggest stationary store you know in the city. If he wants to ace this project, he will need supplies. Many, many supplies. And it’s more fun shopping if you’re with him. You seem happy following him around the store, and when he asks you if you want to come on his trips with him, he can pretend it’s because you seem so excited about his project and not because he had thought of you accompanying him as soon as he heard about it.
As you stand in line at the till, you tell him that if he wants to start his project now, you could go to the beach together. You raise your eyebrows at him when he snaps your head towards you. “There’s a beach here?!”
“Did you not look at a map before coming here?” you ask, amused.
“I guess I didn’t…” he says, distraught at the new information. It only lasts a second, though. “Okay, let’s go now.”
“Now?” you echo, and he nods. “But-” you start, but are interrupted by your thoughts. “I guess there’s no reason not to. The weather’s nice and it’s not like I have any uni work yet. Let’s go,” you agree, looking up at him with a smile. You’re so pretty he almost forgets to look away, until the employee calls Next in a bored drawl.
An hour later, you’re at the beach, barefoot on the sand and ice cream in hand. Strawberry for you and vanilla for him, he notes with a smile. Really not much has changed, he thinks. From the sand, to the water, to the promenade along the beach, Portobello is worlds away from the beaches back home in Australia, or those of Jeju Island. But it’s still nice, and because you’re with him, it’s even better. You’ve been walking around for an hour, splashing each other with water and mercilessly ruining sandcastles left behind before he realises you technically came here for his project. He writes down things he doesn’t want to forget on his phone and snaps a few pictures, sneaking a few of you when you’re not looking. He wants to tell you how beautiful you are with your hair blowing in the wind and the way the chill bites at your cheeks, but he keeps it a secret between him and his Notes app.
Even though he lives two stops further down, he gets off from the bus with you, containing his excitement as best he can when you invite him up for a cup of tea. “Depends. What tea do you have?” he asks, trying and failing to play it cool. He’s just grateful he doesn’t have to come up with an excuse to spend more time with you.
You roll your eyes playfully as you unlock the front door to your building. “I can make you hot chocolate, Mister Tea-Is-For-Old-People.”
He chuckles. “Actually, I’ll have you know I started drinking tea at uni.” When you turn around to look at him, a surprised look on your face, he nods proudly. “Mh-hm. I got addicted to caffeine very quickly into first year so I started drinking black tea for the sake of my heart,” he explains.
“God,” you say breathily, sounding mildly horrified. “A caffeine addiction sounds intense.”
“It was, yeah,” he says, laughing as he follows you into your flat.
Yunjin and Chaewon are sitting at the living room table, watching an episode of what he thinks is Gossip Girl, and they greet him as normally as these two can, but he wonders what the knowing look they exchange is all about. He’d met them the previous weekend when you had all gone for drinks together, along with Jay, Yunjin’s boyfriend, and they had all but grilled him on his relationship with you. He hadn’t thought much of it, chalking it up to your friends feeling protective of you, and truthfully, he was just happy to get to talk about you. But now, he was wondering if you had told them anything about him that made them so curious about him. If you did, he hoped it was something positive.
He stands awkwardly in the kitchen, chatting with you as you boil the water and get cups out, but he can feel their gazes burning the back of his head. Clearly, whatever conversation he’s having with you, he’s also having it with them. “How do you take your tea?” you ask.
“Um, three sugars and lots of milk, please,” he says, smiling innocently when you slowly turn to look at him, a mix of disapproval, disgust, and offence on your face.
You sigh deeply. “I mean, I’ll do it, but I’m not sure that’s even tea anymore.”
“You’re one to talk, Miss Caramel Frappuccino,” he says, recycling your bad joke from earlier.
“At least I don’t claim to be drinking coffee when I order a frap,” you argue. “And this is how you battled your coffee addiction? You’ll be getting another kind of heart problem, Jakey.” He doesn’t know if you even notice your use of his old nickname - the first time you’ve used it since he’s been here - but you don’t make a big deal of it, so he doesn’t either. Not outwardly, at least. Mentally, he’s running laps around your small kitchen.
Jake laughs it off. “I thought I came here for tea, not a health check-up,” he says, smile growing wider at the sight of yours.
“Right, sorry,” you say, giggling. “I’ll make your tea just how you like it,” you add in a sweet voice. Jake knows you’re just doing it as a joke, but it still manages to make butterflies erupt in his stomach.
His tea tastes even sweeter that day.
--
A few days after your impromptu trip to the beach, you’re waiting for Jake outside of his class. He heard of this donut shop he “absolutely needs to visit” and is dragging you along with him - well, “dragging” is a big word considering you’d follow him anywhere. You got here a few minutes early, not needing much of a reason to leave the library, so you scroll through your feed until Jake calls out your name. You’re only mildly surprised to see Jay leaving the classroom behind him.
“Y/N! Can you believe that Jay and I are in the same class?” he says excitedly as the two boys walk toward you. You feel like a dog owner being greeted by their over-enthusiastic dog after a long day (about three hours) of being apart.
“I can believe it, actually. You two do the same degree.”
You exchange quick greetings with Jay before the three of you start heading out. As you walk, Jake throws his arm around your shoulders so casually, it almost throws you off balance. Physical contact always came easy to him, but there’s something about him doing it next to someone else that catches you off guard. It reminds you of walking somewhere with Jay and Yunjin as they discretely held hands. It makes you feel like it’s not the three of you, but Jay with the two of you. Like you and Jake come as a pair rather than as two individuals.
All of that from a simple arm around your shoulders.
Jake asking you in a very unsubtle whisper whether Jay can come with brings you out of your head and back into the conversation. “Yeah, of course,” you say, smiling. It’s not a bad idea to have Jay along: hanging out with someone else might snap you out of your delusion.
Most of the walk to the shop is done in laughter as Jake and Jay realise how much random stuff they have in common, from their peanut allergies to the embarrassing Harry Potter phase they had as fifteen-year-olds. Grassmarket is really busy on Friday afternoons, and there’s a bit of a queue of other donut-enjoyers in front of the boutique, but you don’t mind. The sun is shining down gently on the square and it gives you time to choose your donut out of the ten or so flavours available. In the end, you go for white chocolate and raspberry, while Jake chooses Biscoff and Jay, tiramisu.
“My friend Sunghoon would love this,” he says after taking a hearty bite. “He goes crazy over tiramisu. Like a cat with catnip.”
Jake chuckles, mouth full of Biscoff. “That’s funny, I also have a friend named Sunghoon who loves tiramisu back in Seoul.”
Jay punches Jake’s shoulder, eyes wide in amusement and shock. “Bro, that’s crazy. You have to be lying at this point,” he says, but Jake shakes his head fervently.
“I promise I’m not. I’ve even saved his number with the tiramisu emoji.”
“There’s a tiramisu emoji?” Jay asks, already over questioning the existence of Jake’s Sunghoon.
The conversation circles back to the courses you’re all taking this semester, and Jake tells Jay about Discover Scotland and the trips he’s planned so far. “Well, if you really want to discover Scotland as a student, you need to go on a night out in Glasgow,” Jay says. Going by the look on Jake’s face, Jay’s idea seems to have struck a chord in him.
“Y/N?”
You nod, finishing your mouthful of donut before speaking. “Yeah, Glasgow’s really fun. We should go,” you say, laughing when the two boys high-five in victory. Between the train, the drinks and the club entry, going out isn’t a cheap ordeal, and getting to and fro also takes a while - even so, the smile on Jake’s face makes it worth it.
He wipes some raspberry jam from the corner of your mouth, shooting you a wink, and you want to disintegrate right then and there, become one with the bench you’re sitting on and never have to face him again. The conversation resumes as Jay tells Jake about all the best places to go out in Glasgow, but you don’t hear a word - the feeling of Jake’s thumb so close to your lips takes away your ability for coherent thought.
“It’s decided, then. We’re going out tomorrow night,” Jay loudly announces. “Let me gather the troops.”
That’s how you find yourself in line for the club the next day, already tipsy from pre-drinking on the train and at the pub. It’s still warm enough for you and the girls to wear as little clothing as you want, but Jake insisted on giving you his flannel jacket anyway. If not for the warmth it brings, you’re glad to have his scent enveloping you.
The five of you work exceptionally well together. You, Chaewon and Yunjin have been a given since you met in first year, and Jay and Yunjin went so well together that he was but a natural addition to your little group. Jake’s only been here for over a week, but it’s like he’s always been around, and you couldn’t be happier about it. Him and Jay hit it off immediately, and although the girls needed some time to warm up to him (it’s not everyday that you meet your friend’s ex-best-friend she’s practically always been in love with; you understand why they might’ve been wary at first), they now tease him just as relentlessly as they do Jay. He takes it like a champ.
For a little while, you watch your friends speaking over each other, bickering over nothing, a smile on your face. Two pints of cider and some of Jay’s fancy vodka have made you more grateful than ever for them - if you drink too much in the club, you’ll be hugging them and crying about how much you love them. You’re not sure what that might look like around Jake, so you decide to keep yourself in check for the night.
It takes about thirty minutes before you manage to get into the club. It’s not coat check season yet, so you head straight to the bar. “Sunghoon said he’d meet us here,” Jay says, lifting his head to spot his friend in the sea of drunk students. “Oh yeah, there he is! Hoon, hey!”
You hear a loud “Jongseong!” being shouted from somewhere in the crowd, but you’re not sure who Jay is waving at until a boy whose face is mostly eyebrows is standing - well, standing as best as he can, with the copious amount of alcohol he’s obviously already consumed - in front of you. He gives Jay a hug and the three of you a nod of his head, a lopsided smile on his face. When he turns to Jake, his eyebrows lift first, then his face breaks into a wide grin.
“Jake, my man!” he shouts, taking a stunned Jake’s hand and bringing him into a hug.
“Sunghoon? What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, chuckling and frowning in confusion.
“I’m just partying, man! Same as you!”
“No, I mean here in Scotland, you dumbass!”
“You two know each other?” Jay asks, looking back and forth between his two friends.
“Jake’s my man!” Sunghoon exclaims, unhelpful and stumbling as he throws an arm around his man’s shoulders. Jake shoots you a distressed look but you just laugh at him.
“This is Tiramisu Sunghoon I told you about,” Jake says, helping Sunghoon stand up straight.
“God, what I would do for a tiramisu right now,” Sunghoon says, looking at Yunjin like she might relate. She chuckles awkwardly.
“I have no idea what he’s doing in Scotland, though. Hoon, I thought you were going to NYU for your exchange?”
Sunghoon pauses to think for a second, looking like he’s never heard of NYU in his life. “Oh, that! Yeah, I did an online orientation thing and… it did not go well. Let’s just say there’s someone in New York City who wants me dead,” he says conspiratorially. You all stare at him but he gives no further explanation. On your right, you hear Yunjin whisper what the fuck under her breath. “So I transferred here instead!”
“I didn’t know you were an exchange student,” Jay says, still looking just as confused.
“Yeah, man! But anyways, let’s not talk about uni right now. I’m on a bender, day three, baby! Do not talk to me tomorrow,” he says, chuckling until the smile suddenly drops from his face. “I mean that.” You look around yourself, glad to find everyone is just as baffled as you. “Let’s party!” Sunghoon cheers, intoxicated grin back on his lips. Jake and Jay follow, but you and the girls stay back for a second, taking in everything that has just happened.
“That. Is the most beautiful man I have ever seen,” Chaewon blurts, staring blankly at the spot Sunghoon stood in a second ago.
“Yeah, he also seems to be a raging alcoholic. And he’s what, twenty-one?” Yunjin says, a scowl on her face.
“I could fix him.”
“Okay, let’s go,” you say, grabbing your friends by their wrists before either of them can say something worse.
Feeling generous, Sunghoon buys shots for all six of you, and you quickly down them before heading to the dancefloor. On your way there, a group of sober-looking girls hand Chaewon a giant, still almost full jug of red liquid, something that costs at least twelve pounds here. They say they’re leaving and don’t need it anymore, smiling as you profusely and astonishedly thank them. You look at your friends, mentally weighing the risk and drugging possibility this might present, but shrug and pass the jug around after taking hearty sips anyway. It tastes so much like fizzy cherries that you wonder if it even contains any alcohol, but sure enough, twenty minutes later, the three of you are spinning around on the dancefloor, screaming the lyrics to your favourite pop songs at the top of your lungs. Jake at a club is a completely foreign sight to you, and you can’t stop laughing at all the silly moves he pulls.
You’re shaking your whole body to a Nicki song from the early 2010s when you suddenly feel a hand on your hip. Before you can turn around and slap whoever this random man is that thinks he can touch you, a familiar voice whispers it’s just me in your ear, and you simultaneously relax and tense up knowing that Jake is standing right behind you. “There’s a creep staring at you,” he explains, lips and breath gently tickling your ear as he speaks. You look around the room and quickly notice a man standing in a corner, drink in one hand and the other in his pocket, unmoving as he eyes you with a smirk so slimy it makes your stomach turn. To avoid his gaze, you turn around, but you’re not sure the sight you’re met with is much better for you.
Jake peers down at you, eyes slightly glossed over and cheeks flushed from the alcohol, jaw locked in annoyance. He glances at the guy in the corner, who you assume is still staring when you feel Jake’s hands brush along your sides until they reach your waist. His gaze returns to your face as he brings you a step closer to him. Reflexively, you wrap your arms around his neck.
“Is this okay?” he mouths. All you can do is meekly nod. You watch as his eyes deliberately scan your face, going down and down. Time stills when they reach your lips and stay there. It’s like someone has put the booming music of the club on mute, and the only thing you can hear is your heart loudly beating in your ears. You suddenly feel very sober.
You swear Jake’s face is slowly inching its way towards yours when you’re abruptly taken away. Yunjin has grabbed you by the forearm, leading you and Chaewon to the bathroom as she chants “Bathroom break! Bathroom break!”, clearly unaware of the moment she’s just interrupted.
Because of the queue for the girls’ bathroom and Chaewon’s decision to console this random girl who was in the middle of a breakdown, it’s not until half-an-hour later that you emerge back into the crowd. You spot the boys at a table, two empty shots each in front of them and all three with a beer in hand. They will not be happy checking their bank accounts tomorrow morning.
“Y/N! You’re back!” Jake calls out happily when he spots you, and you can tell right away that he’s much drunker than when you left him. His whole face is flush, his eyes don’t open quite all the way, and a lopsided smile won’t leave his lips - even like this, he’s so pretty that you want to grab his hand and take him somewhere it’s just the two of you.
Chaewon gets drinks for the three of you and then you’re dancing again. It’s already one am at this point, and the remaining two hours until the club closes, fueled with alcohol and good music, go by in a flash. Before you know it, the DJ is playing All of Me by John Legend and the lights have been turned on, clear signs that you’re overstaying your welcome. The few people that have made it to closing time stumble out of the club and into the street, heading for either the nearest subway stop or the next party of the night. Since there are no trains at this time, your group walks to the close-by bus station, listening to Jake and Sunghoon grumble about how the clubs in Seoul don’t close until at least five or six and how trains run all night there.
The bus is already at the station when you get there, and the driver doesn’t seem too pleased about having six mildly drunk kids get on his bus, but he’s probably used to questionable people taking public transport at this time of the day anyway. Physically, Sunghoon is sitting across from you, but mentally, he’s off somewhere far, far from this bus. With his head against the window and mouth wide open, saliva pooling at the corner of his lips, he looks like he’s any second away from obnoxiously snoring. Jay and Yunjin are sitting somewhere you can’t see them, probably eating each other’s faces; she once told you they had their “most mind-blowing sex” when both a little drunk, and much to your dismay, you haven’t been able to get that piece of information out of your head since. Chaewon is on the phone to her long-distance bestie Sakura, for whom it’s a nice eleven in the morning right now.
This means that you and Jake are left alone, both of you still tipsy and not tired enough to fall asleep. You drop your head on Jake’s shoulder, and not only does he let you, he also takes your hand in his, interlacing your fingers and placing them atop his thigh. Clumsily, because he now has to use his left hand, Jake slips his phone out of his back pocket and shows you the photos he took all evening. As the night progresses, they get blurrier and blurrier, so much so that towards the end, you can’t tell what he was even trying to capture, and you laugh at how inappropriate some of these would be to submit in a university project.
When he softly says your name, you don’t raise your head, simply humming to let him know you’re listening. You close your eyes, cherishing the way your name sounds on his lips. It’s his tone, tentative and vulnerable as he tells you there’s something he’s been wanting to ask you, that makes you look up at him. He, however, won’t meet your eyes, and settles his gaze on the window, even though it’s so dark outside you can’t make out a thing.
“How come you never replied to my letter? I know it’s been ages, but… I still find myself wondering about it.” The question is softly asked and you know he by no means wants to hurt you, but it still feels like a punch to the throat. You hadn’t remembered who it was that had sent the last letter, while he’d been wondering all these years why his words had been left unanswered.
He seems set on not looking at you, so you rest your head back on his shoulder. Your hand is still in his. “I’m not sure, Jakey. I’m sorry,” you say, aware it’s not a satisfying answer. You’ve thought about why you and Jake had stopped talking for hours on end; you’ve discussed it with your friends and your mum, looked at it from all sorts of angles, tried to come up with real reasons other than time pulling you apart. But now that Jake himself is asking you about it, the words don’t come easy. You’ve theorised that you were afraid putting effort into sustaining your friendship would only hurt you in the end, because it was just that - a friendship. You could fool yourself into thinking you were okay only being friends with him when he was with you, that putting your feelings aside was worth it since you could at least spend time with him. But now that he was away, you didn’t have that anymore - it just hurt. So what was the point? And how could you phrase all this without betraying your feelings for him?
“Our letters were so sparse anyway back then, even our texts and calls were getting less and less frequent… And whenever I had a new boyfriend, I’d get into the same argument about being too close to you over and over again, even though you were literally on another continent.”
“You know, I always felt sorry about that.”
“About what?”
“Those boyfriends of yours. I felt like you waited for me to leave before you started dating-”
“It wasn’t like that!” you exclaim, lifting your head again. Finally, he meets your eyes, gaze softening upon seeing your affronted expression. “It wasn’t like that,” you repeat, relaxing your tone. “If anything, they were the ones that waited for you to be gone. I'm sorry I let their jealousy get to me.”
Jake smiles, the tenderness in his gaze making your whole body turn to jelly. He squeezes your hands. “It’s okay. I just… I felt like I was always in the way of your relationships, even after I left.”
“You don’t have to feel sorry about that. They should’ve had more trust in me.”
He pauses, gaze dropping down to your intertwined hands. “I would’ve been jealous.” When his eyes find yours again, there’s something in them that you quite can’t place. It creates a ball of nerves that pull at your stomach. “If I were dating you, and you had a guy friend you were as close with as we were back then, I’d be jealous. You know, I’d assume he had feelings for you. And that you might have feelings for him, too.”
Because I did, you think. I did, and I still do. You try to communicate that thought to Jake, but telepathy works especially bad when one has as much alcohol coursing through their veins as you do right now. So instead, you say the opposite of what you’re thinking, turning away from Jake to avoid his gaze. You watch the dribble of saliva trickle from Sunghoon’s lips. “That’s not a great view of male-female friendship.”
Jake’s retort comes immediately. “But we were different, right?”
His words echo through your head until they make even less sense than they did initially. Different from what? From who? You’re not sure - but you like the idea of you and Jake being different, special. You especially like the idea of Jake thinking so. So you look at him and smile. “Right.”
Slowly, his grin fades and turns into a worried expression. “Y/N?”
“Mm?”
“We’re still different now, aren’t we?”
You want to wrap him in your arms so tightly neither of you can breathe. You settle for running a hand through his hair and pinching his cheek. “Course we are.” Your whole being relaxes when his face breaks into a smile again.
--
The next morning, you wake up to Yunjin plopping down on your bed unceremoniously, shaking you awake, and asking you if you want anything from Snax Café. On one hand, you’re grateful that she thought of you and that in thirty minutes’ time, you’ll have the greasiest sausage wrap and hash browns known to man in your hand; on the other, you’d like to think that she knows you well enough to know to order your regular from there without asking. But that’s probably the hangover talking.
You stumble out of bed, thanking last night’s you for having remembered to take headache medicine before crashing. Even if your stomach is very upset with the copious amount of alcohol it needs to rid your body of, and your throat is begging for water, at least your head doesn’t feel like it’s been split into two. As Yunjin barges into Chaewon’s room just as she had done yours, you head for the kitchen to get yourself a tall glass of revitalising tap water. You’re only mildly surprised to find Sunghoon passed out on your living room couch - it takes you a few seconds to remember that the three of you took pity on him when you learned he lived over an hour’s walk from the station, so you let him spend the night on your uncomfortable, cold leather sofa. While you down your glass in three gulps, you hear Yunjin shaking Sunghoon awake and asking him loudly if he wanted something from Snax.
“Fuck, I’d kill for a Snax right now,” he groggily says before he’s even opened his eyes. When he does, they dart around the room until they land on Yunjin, who's crouching in front of him. He looks like he thought her question was asked in a dream and not in real life. He also looks like he's not quite sure where he is, or who Yunjin is. It isn’t until Jay comes wobbling out of Yunjin’s bed to the couch opposite Sunghoon that the memories seem to piece back together in his head. The three of you watch him like he’s an unstable mental patient and you’re his doctors.
“No need for that, I’m ordering it on Deliveroo.” He nods his head and goes back to sleep for the time being.
Just as you’re about to text Jake, your phone rings with a call from him. His raspy morning voice as he asks you whether you slept well makes you want to put your head in an oven heated at 200 degrees Celsius. However, you resist the urge, and answer him with a smile, then ask him the same question.
“I slept pretty well too. I’d have slept in longer but one of my flatmates decided to have a Sunday fucking brunch and his friends are so loud. Can I come over?”
You’re very aware of the other people in the room, especially of Chaewon who has just walked in and is eyeing you suspiciously as if to say, Why are you smiling so hard at ten in the morning? You know the girls would jump at any opportunity to tease you about Jake, and with the added presence of Sunghoon in the room, you can’t have that. So you stifle the giggles bubbling in your throat and answer as nonchalantly as you can. It also gives you the chance to reflect on why Jake Sim asking you whether he can come over makes you want to giggle like a giddy schoolgirl so much.
(Maybe it’s because when it comes to him, you’re still the giddy schoolgirl you used to be.)
“Yeah, of course. I was going to ask you if you wanted anything from Snax, actually.”
“Snax? What’s that?”
“Oh my God, Jake, am I about to introduce you to Snax right now?”
Twenty minutes later, the six of you are sitting around your small living room table, all varying amounts of tired, dehydrated and famished as you dig into your breakfast. Given your current levels of energy, it’s fairly quiet; plus, the food hits such a spot that it’s hard to talk and eat at the same time. Jake eats like he’s never had a breakfast wrap and hash brown in his life. It’s an endearing sight if you’ve ever seen one.
You spend the afternoon together, watching movies curled up in your bed, and you try desperately not to think about the implications of that - except that’s hard to do when Jake is right next to you, legs and arms ever-so-slightly brushing against yours, his warmth so close yet so out of reach. You purposefully let him pick movies you’ve already seen so that you don’t have to focus on anything but your own thoughts and the faint but dizzying scent of his body wash. The both of you had an innumerable amount of sleepovers as kids, so this shouldn’t feel weird, but it decidedly does, probably because you’re much more aware of him now in a way you weren’t before.
As hard as you try to figure out what exactly he meant by “different,” you draw a blank. The only way you’ll understand is if you ask him, and you’re far too scared to do that. You don’t want to seem so hung upon a singular word he used when he was tipsy. It might be slightly dramatic, but you felt like some sort of balance had been restored since Jake was back in your life - the problem was it made you scared to do anything that might threaten this newfound equilibrium. It at least seems like different means a good thing to him, and that’s enough for you.
You look over to him when the second movie comes to an end. He’s sleeping peacefully, lashes caressing the skin under his eyes and cheeks looking rounder than usual. It’d be so easy to reach a finger out and trace the line descending from the top of his forehead to his chin, gliding along the bump of his nose and feeling the plumpness of his rosy lips, but you settle for drawing that line with your eyes instead.
You don’t think you’ll be able to fall asleep with him next to you and your heart beating so loudly in your ears, but you find yourself waking up a few hours later, the sun already starting to set. Jake is already awake, scrolling on his phone, one arm casually behind his head as if being in your bed is as comfortable to him as being in his own. When he sees you’ve woken up, his honey-coated smile washes warmly over you, and he makes a joke about how he keeps on falling asleep when he’s with you. “I feel that at ease, I guess,” he says, and you hope you’re not making up the small blush that spreads over his cheeks.
--
Semesters are always a short and intense affair, but this one passes by even quicker with Jake by your side. Before you know it, it’s midterms already, and you and Jake have travelled enough for him to complete his project and make another one just for the hell of it. He had scoured the internet for the cheapest train tickets and most noteworthy sites, planning trips that lasted anywhere between three hours and a day for the two of you. All you needed to do was follow and trust him, which was the easiest thing anyone could’ve asked of you.
You’ve gone back to Glasgow, during the day, this time, as well as St. Andrews and Aberdeen. You’ve practically visited every loch and castle in a one-hour train ride radius of Edinburgh, and Jake has more lined up for the second part of the semester. He’s even said that your trips should continue being a thing next term, and you couldn’t have agreed faster. With every new destination, every train ride spent looking out a window or laughing about everything and anything, any odd Scottish food you try for the first time, you somehow fall for him a bit deeper. You didn’t know your love for him could bloom any more than it already had - but Jake is the gift that keeps on giving, and, unwillingly or not, he always finds new ways to make your heart speed that much faster.
Attentionate, affectionate, sweet Jake who always makes sure you’re comfortable wherever you go, always gives you his jacket or tucks your hair behind your ear to prevent it from falling in your face. Who, as time passed, grew more touchy, would hold your hand, ruffle your hair, pinch your cheek, which was simultaneously devastating and elating. Who, you could tell, started to linger more, both in his touch and in his gaze. Questions of does he love me back or am I seeing what I want to see? nearly drove you mad.
--
“I feel like at this point the only way she’ll understand that I like her is if I kill myself and write in my suicide note that it’s her fault for not loving me back.”
Jake has been pacing back and forth in Jay’s living room for approximately twenty minutes, with no end in sight. At least he’ll have gotten most of his ten thousand steps of the day in.
Jay sighs heavily. “Okay, I really don’t think you need to go that far.”
“Sounds romantic to me,” Sunghoon says, mouth full of salted caramel popcorn.
“I hope you never get a girlfriend,” Jay retorts, looking at his deranged friend with a scowl. He turns back to his (slightly more) normal friend and gives him a sympathetic smile.
“I mean, I told her we were different. Different. That we weren’t like regular friends. I tell her she’s pretty every chance I get. I give her my jacket all the time, even though this country is fucking cold. I’ve even given her a t-shirt of mine, sprayed with my perfume and everything. And don’t get me wrong, I do it ‘cause I love doing that for her-”
“Simp,” Sunghoon snickers.
“But what the hell else can I do? Like, she has to be ignoring it on purpose at this point.”
“You could always, you know… tell her?”
Jake scoffs, fixing his friend with a derisive look. “Wow. What a great idea, Jay, I never thought of that one before!”
A popcorn lands right on Jay’s cheek. “You’re so clueless, man,” Sunghoon says, a shit-eating smirk on his lips. As if he knows any better.
Jay looks back-and-forth between his friends, an expression on his face like he’s been disparaged. “Sorry, I didn’t know being straightforward and honest was such a bad thing. It would just make things a lot clearer for the both of you.”
“But… I’m scared,” Jake says.
“Man up!” Sunghoon suddenly yells, punching the sofa next to him, making his friends jump. “How can she ever figure it out if you don’t tell her?”
“You were on my side just a second ago, man, what are you doing?” Jake asks, confusion written all over his face. Sunghoon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two boys, retreating into silence as he stuffs his mouth with another handful of popcorn.
“Just ignore him,” Jay says. “But for once, he did say something that makes a modicum of sense. You think you’re being really obvious, but you might not actually be. Which could be a good sign, you know. I heard girls were super aware of a guy liking them if they weren’t into him, but being totally oblivious if they did like him.”
“Where did you hear that?” Jake asks, an eyebrow raised in suspicion.
“...Instagram Reels,” Jay reluctantly admits, frowning at Sunghoon who bursts into laughter.
Jake holds the bridge of his nose between two fingers like his head aches. “You’re both so useless, I’m never coming to you with my problems ever again.”
“I’ll pretend I’m not offended by that.”
“I’d rather you didn’t, anyway,” Sunghoon says. He’s smiling but Jake genuinely can’t tell if he’s joking or not.
“But seriously, if you think you’ve done everything, then just do one last thing that’s so obvious she can’t misinterpret it,” Jay says.
“Like what?”
“Like kissing her, or some-”
“Kissing her?!” Jake echoes.
“That’s wild, man,” Sunghoon uselessly butts in.
“It’s just an example, calm yourselves,” Jay says. “Or, again, just straight up tell her how you feel. It’s what I did with Yunjin, and it worked.”
“You and Yunjin are dating?” Sunghoon asks, bewildered.
Jay shakes his head at him. “Where the hell have you been, bro? We were literally cuddling on the couch the other day.”
“I just thought you were really good friends, or something.”
Jake groans, holding his head in his hands. Sunghoon was of no help whatsoever, and Jay was so on point that it annoyed him. Confessing was the only solution - but Jake was so afraid of being rejected and losing your friendship that he had barely entertained the thought. But he had found the courage to do it once, and even though his planned confession had fallen through back then, he could get himself together and do it again.
It was the day he had told you he was moving to Korea, which he himself had learned that morning. Originally, he’d texted you because he had news to share - good news. Or at least, he hoped they were good. He hoped the soft, lingering looks you gave him weren’t a figment of his imagination but rather the confirmation he needed that you liked him back. He hoped that like him, you cared too much about your friendship to make the first move into something else; that by confessing first, you’d be relieved of that responsibility; that his wish to hold your hand and kiss your forehead wasn’t one-sided.
He decided not to prepare anything - just a couple sentences that he’d rehearsed over and over in his head. Declarations of love, bouquets of flowers, chocolate and couple keychains, all that could wait until after you’d said yes to being his girlfriend. He didn’t want to win you over just once, he wanted to show you every day how much he loved you. Fourteen-year-old Jake was absolutely head over heels for you; so imagine his disappointment when, as he was getting ready to meet with you, his parents called him downstairs, a tone to their voice Jake wasn’t familiar with, but that couldn’t mean anything good.
“Your dad’s job is sending us back to Seoul next month,” his mom announced, not beating around the bush. He felt everything quite literally crumbling down around him. His friends in Brisbane, his school, his hobbies, but above all, you. He’d lose it all. And what was the point now in telling you how he felt? If you felt the same way, it would only make his departure that much harder, and if you didn’t, it would ruin your last moments together. It just wasn’t worth it.
What he had planned to be good news turned into the most awful ones. The thought of it happening all over again makes twenty-year-old Jake shudder. But he wouldn’t let himself be trapped by time again - sure, in seven months, the academic year would be over, and he would go back to Korea. But that didn’t mean that those seven months should be spent in agony, or the following ones either, for that matter. You would make it work. What was long-distance to someone who loved someone else as much as Jake loved you?
But he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself. He has to start by really resolving to do this, and in the off-chance that it actually goes in his favour, he’d start worrying about long distance then.
First, he has a trip to plan.
--
You should’ve known that a trip to the Scottish Highlands in the middle of November was a risky choice in terms of weather. The day started off nicely enough - no sign of rain when you woke up or as you watched the sunrise through the train window. Clouds turned the sky a bright white at first, then increasingly greyer and greyer. You feel the first drops of rain after lunch as you walk around a small village. By four pm, it’s pitch black and storming like you’ve rarely seen before. You head into a pub to grab a drink as you wait for the rain to subside, but subside it does not. You end up ordering fish and chips, one each, although one serving is enough to feed three. Even after taking your time eating, the bad weather does not let up. The last train, which is meant to be at eight pm, has been cancelled. Luckily, there’s an inn right across the road from the pub; you have no choice but to spend the night.
The inn receptionist is sitting so low on her chair, you can barely see her over the desk until you’re standing right over it. Her face is hidden by a book and it’s only when you say hiya that she seems to realise you’re there. You had never heard of the book or of its author, but you recognized the cover design as that of those romance novels with repetitive plots and weirdly misogynistic love interests your mum and every other middle-aged woman was obsessed with.
Her smile widens as she looks between you and Jake. “Hi there. One room for the lovely couple?”
“Oh, we’re not-”
“Yes, please,” Jake interrupts, smiling down at her, then at you. “It’ll be cheaper if we share a room.”
“Our only room with two single beds is already taken, I’m afraid. One double bed okay for you two?”
You feel like you’re about to faint, so you’re glad Jake is there to answer. “Yeah, of course.” How the idea of sharing one bed with you is so okay to him, you’re not sure - granted, you’ve done it before, but this feels different. For all intents and purposes, this is a hotel room you’re staying in. And you’re staying in it with Jake.
You try to calm your breathing as the receptionist guides you to your room, chatting casually with Jake on the way there. As she unlocks the door for you, she informs you that check-out must be done before eleven in the morning tomorrow, then bids you good night and leaves you to it, still wearing that smile you swear has mischievousness to it. The door clicks shut behind you, and it’s just Jake and you again, together in this small room until tomorrow morning. Your chances of survival are very, very low.
Your room is a humble one, consisting of a desk, a cupboard, two armchairs, a small, separate bathroom and the infamous bed. Every surface seems to be covered with wood, from the ceiling, to the walls, to the old-fashioned furniture. Only the floor is a soft, beige carpet. Especially with the darkness outside, it makes for a gloomy room until you turn on the lamp by the entrance; it casts a warm, golden light in the room, one that would make you feel at ease if it wasn’t for Jake’s presence next to you. The implications of being essentially trapped in a barely-lit room with him are heavy on your mind, especially when he looks this gorgeous with his hair still damp from the rain and the soft lights playing on his face.
His voice brings you out of your thoughts. “Right. Do you, um, do you wanna shower first?” he asks, setting his bag on one of the armchairs.
“Oh. Yeah, sure.” There has never been such an awkward tension between the two of you, but you know you’re not doing anything to ease it. You hope a shower will help you get out of your head and make you relax.
You feel the tension leave your muscles under the hot water, but your stomach is still in knots. You’ve never been this nervous around Jake before; back when you were fourteen and again in these past few months, you’d gotten so used to dealing with your unspoken feelings for him that you could almost forget about them when you were with him. They’d come back to you when you were alone and dwelling on the moments you’d spent together, on his words and actions you desperately tried not to read too much into but always ended up doing anyway. But right now, they’ve floated to the surface, becoming as obvious to you as a stain on your skin you can’t rub away. You’re scared Jake will notice it, and, in the worst case scenario you often thought about, would run away and never speak to you again.
At least the raging storm outside would make that a bit harder.
When you step out of the shower, you curse yourself for not having worn more comfortable clothes on this trip. You definitely can’t wear these jeans and button-up sweater to lounge around. Thankfully, the inn provides two long bathrobes that you could wear over underwear and your tank top, but you wonder where on the scale of inappropriate this would be to wear with Jake in the room. He’s seen you in short pyjama shorts before, but this, like everything else that would usually be normal between the two of you, feels weird today.
You wrap the bathrobe around yourself, tying it in place around your waist, and decide that it’d only be weird if you made it weird. And if Jake found the sight of your bare legs weird, then he was the weird one.
The scene you’re met with as you walk into the room makes you want to retreat into the bathroom immediately. Jake is lying on the bed with his upper half against the headboard, one leg extended and the other one bent, resting his head against one palm, using his free hand to scroll through his phone. His t-shirt has ridden up slightly, putting the waistband of his Calvin Kleins into view. Worst of all, when he sees you, his face breaks into a grin.
Your stomach twists when he gives you a once-over, letting his gaze linger on your legs. “Did you bring a bathrobe with you or was it included?” he asks with an annoyingly handsome smirk.
You roll your eyes. “Yes, I bring a bathrobe with me wherever I go,” you say sarcastically. “Now shut up and go shower, you stink.” Reverting to insults is always the solution when you’re internally freaking out.
“Yes, ma’am.”
He takes so long in the shower that by the time he comes out, you’ve dozed off in bed. As if you were a child, he wakes you up with a boop to the nose, crouching next to the bed and smiling at you. His wet hair falls on his head like that of a movie star in a shower scene, which you find extremely unfair, and his cheeks are red from the warmth of the water.
“It’s still early. Do you wanna go grab another drink?”
“In our bathrobes?” you say, laughing. “Nah, I don’t really feel like drinking anyway.” Read: I’m not sure what I’ll do with alcohol in me.
“Okay, no worries. Um, I think I saw they had board games in the lobby?”
Your ears perk up at this. “Ooh, what kind of board games?”
Putting jeans on underneath his bathrobe, Jake slips away for a minute and comes back with Monopoly, Uno, and a deck of cards. “They didn’t have much for two players,” he says, dumping everything on the bed.
You already knew that anything would become fun if you did it with Jake, but you definitely didn’t expect to spend almost five hours just playing Monopoly and card games with him. Neither of you stays put for very long, always switching from sitting criss-cross to laying on your stomach, making fun of the other’s bathrobe even though you’re wearing the exact same thing. You make each other laugh as you make up your own nonsense rules and disregard the laws of your games, attacking the other ruthlessly for a couple extra points or coins. Jake even makes you go get snacks from a corner store that’s miraculously still open because you lose the first round of Uno.
After some time, Jake lets out a loud yawn, which in turn makes you yawn too. He checks his phone to find that it’s close to midnight already. “Time for bed?” he asks, and your nervousness that had finally dissipated as you played came rushing back.
You nod. “Yeah, sounds good.”
The two of you clean up before brushing your teeth. Even that, with Jake by your side, becomes a silly affair as he pulls faces in the mirror and nudges your hip with his. You stay behind to use the toilet, and when you come back out, Jake’s already in bed, bathrobe tossed on one of the armchairs. This means that Jake is just casually in a t-shirt and boxers, waiting for you to join him in bed. Luckily, his back is turned to you, so you quickly take off your own bathrobe and slide under the sheets, careful to keep your distance from him. The sheets are cold underneath you, and you know it’ll take a while before your body heat warms them up - although you feel very hot and bothered because of the man lying next to you.
“Gosh, I’m really sleepy all of a sudden,” he says, words distorted by a yawn. You only hum in response, and he reaches for the lamp to turn it off. Just like that, you’re in complete darkness, and Jake’s body is mere inches from your own.
It’s eerily quiet for a while, and when you’ve managed to slow your heartbeat and regularise your breathing, you start trying to fall asleep. You toss and turn, unable to find a comfortable position until Jake’s low, sleepy voice breaks the silence. “Can’t sleep?” he asks, and you freeze.
You sigh. “No. I’m sorry for keeping you up,” you say guiltily.
“It’s okay. I can’t really sleep either. It’s a bit cold in here.”
You pause. “Right. Yeah, it is,” you say, even though you feel like you’re sweating buckets.
The room plunges into silence again, long enough for you to think Jake has fallen asleep. You feel something cold against your foot, only realising as it slides up your calf that it’s his foot. “Jake!” you whisper-yell, withdrawing your leg as he bursts into giggles that warm your heart. “Your feet are so cold,” you say in-between chuckles.
“I’m cold all over,” he whines. “Have they not turned the heating on yet? It’s already mid-November.”
“People are used to the cold here.”
“Well I’m not. Can we cuddle?” he suddenly asks, and he must somehow feel the way you freeze in place because he stammers out a justification straight away. “For, I mean, just for warmth, you know. I don’t think I’ll sleep otherwise.”
His foot finds yours again and you can’t help but laugh. “Sure, fine,” you say with a sigh as if you were doing only half-heartedly for his sake. As if this was some big sacrifice you were making, and not something you’d daydreamed about one too many times before.
Your heart is beating a thousand miles a second when you scooch closer to Jake, his hands finding your waist as easily as if they’d been there a hundred times before. He pulls you in much closer than you had expected, holding you tightly against his chest, one arm for you to use as a pillow and one hand resting on your lower back. You try to calm your respiration so that he can’t hear how short of breath you are, but based on his own breathing, he seems to be out in five minutes. It takes you longer to fall asleep, every shift of his body sending shivers down your spine, but you manage to relax after some time, letting his warmth envelop you as you drift off to sleep.
--
The feeling of waking up with you in his arms is so unreal, Jake thinks he might still be dreaming.
He looks down at your peaceful sleeping face and can’t stop the smile that spreads on his lips. Jake always thinks you’re pretty, but this is a sight he particularly wants to commit to memory. He watches fondly as the bright sun rays of the early morning hit your face, making you scrunch your eyebrows and bury your face deeper against him. You grunt softly, and when he feels you shifting and stretching your legs, he pretends to fall asleep so you don’t catch him staring. It seems like you’ve raised your head, chin tilted towards him - if he’s lucky, you’re watching him “sleep” just like he did seconds ago.
He contains a smile at the joke that forms itself in his brain before shooting his eyes open, catching you off guard during what you thought was a private, secret moment.
“Shit!” you yelp, practically jumping off of him and rolling onto the other side of the bed. He bursts into laughter, proud that his little prank was effective. Before you can scold him, he makes his way to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and bringing your back against his chest. He thinks he feels your body tense; but then you bring your hand over his, swiping your thumb back and forth against his skin, and you relax in his hold. “You’re so annoying,” you complain, but your voice is tender, almost weak.
He buries his face in your hair, trying not to be too loud when he inhales there. “Sorry,” he says, the smile evident in his voice. “The opportunity was right there. Caught you staring, huh?”
“You’re such an idiot.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” It’s quiet for a few minutes, and Jake is more than happy to enjoy this moment in silence, but there’s something burning the tip of his tongue. It’s been there for a while now, but he thinks he’s finally found the right moment. “Y/N?”
“Mm?”
“There’s something I couldn’t tell you last night, but I feel oddly okay saying it right now. Are you listening?”
“I am, yeah,” you say gently, voice so soft it caresses his skin and draws goosebumps from it.
His chest expands and falls with a deep, shaky breath. With your back right against it, he’s scared you’ll hear that his heart is beating faster than it should. “Bad news first?” he says with a nervous chuckle.
“Uh-oh.”
“There’s no roundabout way to say this, so here goes, I guess.” He takes another breath. “I’m in love with you, Y/N.” You tense in his embrace, and he waits for you to say something, anything before he continues.
“Oh,” is all you say. He hopes it’s a good oh - even if it isn’t, he doesn’t let it deter him.
“Yeah. I really debated telling you this… I know you might not feel the same way. But I also know that if I don’t say anything and make the same mistake twice, I’ll beat myself up over it for the rest of my life.”
“The same mistake?” you ask, looking at him over your shoulder.
He gazes down at you tenderly, pushing hair away from your face with a gentle hand. “I already felt that way back when we lived in Australia. I was about to tell you but when I learned that I was moving, I didn’t wanna risk ruining the little time we had left together.”
The look on your face both breaks his heart and patches it up again. “Jakey…” you say, voice just a whisper. You turn around to face him and bury your face in the crook of his neck. The fact that you’re not saying much is making his stomach twist in agonising stress, but he takes it as a good sign that you’re still holding him tight and not running away.
“I think I’d be the luckiest guy on Earth if you felt the same way,” he says, hopefulness clear in his voice.
And then he finally hears the words he’s been dying to hear all these years. “Of course, I feel the same way, Jake,” you say, eyes meeting his. “This isn’t bad news at all, it’s like, the best possible news ever.”
It takes him a few seconds, but when your words sink in, a bright smile graces his features. He feels tears coming up - tears of relief that you feel the same way, of sadness that it took the both of you so long to get here, of happiness that something new might start - he’s not sure. Perhaps everything at once.
“Of course?” he echoes, smiling wildly. “It wasn’t obvious to me.”
“Oh, gosh,” you murmur, burying yourself into him once more. “I can’t believe this is actually happening.”
He tightened his hold around you, bringing you to him as close as physically possible. “Me neither.”
The feeling of you tangling your bare legs with his and bunching up the fabric of his t-shirt in your fist awakens something in him - he had been in his head, thanking the heavens that you loved him back, reeling from his belated confession, but he was now very aware of his body. And of yours. He was reminded of Jay telling him to kiss you - although he hadn’t needed to go there to reveal his feelings to you, it was still a possibility. It was even more so now that he knew you felt the same way.
He tries to be subtle as he brushes a hand up your back to the nape of your neck, gently grazing his fingernails against the skin there. He has to suppress a self-satisfied smirk when he feels you squirm under his touch, lifting your head to fix him with a scolding look. Your stern expression fades as soon as his eyes fall on your lips, however, and you quickly mirror his gaze. His lips part, and he feels his whole body shake as he takes a deep breath in. Who knew that you’d share your first kiss on a random Sunday morning in the fuckass middle of nowhere in Scotland?
Maybe you take pity on him, or you recognise the effort put into being the one to make the first move, or, as he’d like to think, you just really want to kiss him - either way, you’re the one who closes the gap and presses your lips to his.
Your lips. So soft, so delicate against his, absolutely perfect. It’s a simple, tentative touch, but he’s craved it for so long that it makes his head spin. He frowns, despite himself instantly needing more than this feather-like feeling of your lips brushing against each other. His mind tells him to calm down and take it slow, but his body takes over, urging him to grab the nape of your neck a little harder, to hold you a little closer to him, to kiss you a little stronger. Thankfully, you let him do all of this and more, hands finding purchase in his hair and returning his intensity tenfold.
He doesn’t know what’s better - the fact that you’re kissing him or the kiss itself. The way your lips move against his is intoxicating; it wraps itself around its mind and leaves no room for thoughts that aren’t of you. You seem to want him as desperately as he wants you, to have waited for him as long as he did for you, and this is what drives him crazy. You press your body against his and he sees stars; you let out a moan against his lips and he kisses you deeper, ready to do anything to hear that melody again.
Unfortunately, the only melody he gets to hear is that of his phone alarm, informing you that it’s quarter to eleven and that you have fifteen minutes to leave. Check-out at eleven am had sounded nice yesterday; now, he would stay in this dingy inn his whole life if it meant he got to keep kissing you.
The both of you reluctantly break apart, bursting into giddy laughter when your eyes meet. As said before, Jake always thinks you’re pretty, but with your pupils blown and your lips plump from kissing, this might just be the prettiest he’s ever seen you.
“You know, I like you a lot, but I’d like you even more if you could stop time,” you say.
He looks down at you with a smile, pushing away the strands of hair that had fallen on your face. “Sure, I’ll learn how to control time for you.”
“Thanks, Jakey.” You peck his lips, lingering, and he closes his eyes to savour your sweetness.
“Anything for you, baby.” His eyes widen at the nickname slip, but you erupt into giggles.
“Baby?”
“Would you look at the time, we really got to go,” he says, detangling his limbs from yours. He pauses for a second. “Baby,” he repeats, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before bouncing from the bed.
You get ready together, and the mundane tasks of stripping sheets from a bed and packing bags become the funnest things he’s ever done. You’re all over each other, attacking the other with kisses and hugs; Jake doesn’t think he’s ever felt quite this happy.
And this is only the beginning.
--
There’s a glint in the receptionist’s eyes when you check out of your room, as if she knew something you and Jake had been oblivious to all along. It’s the only one in town, so you go back to the little pub for a full breakfast with eggs, hash browns, haggis, and sausages. You get coffee so strong you think you might not sleep for the next four days, while Jake drinks tea that is equal parts sugar, milk, and actual tea.
From the moment you leave the pub to the moment you arrive at your doorstep, Jake’s hands barely leave yours. When they have to, like when you’re searching for the perfect seat on the train or when the controller checks your tickets, they’re back together within a minute, like two magnets that can’t stay apart for too long. The rain has long subsided, leaving place to a bright blue sky and wet blades of grass that shine in the sun.
Now that your mutual feelings don’t need to be kept secret, you tell each other about everything you had to go through, like you pretending your good news was your mum having baked the cookies Jake liked and him seeing your new boyfriends every two months on your close friends story. He tells you about all the hints he’s dropped, causing you to facepalm over and over again. It feels like two friends catching each other to speed on all the latest gossip, except the topic of that gossip is you.
The juxtaposition of your familiarity with Jake with the novelty of behaving like a couple, of not having to hold back with your touches or gazes or words, is nothing if not jarring. But you have a feeling you’ll get used to it in no time.
As you unlock the front door to your building, you don’t ask him if he’s coming up - to you, it’s a given that you’ll be spending the rest of today and every day after that together. So when he doesn’t follow you, staying still on the threshold, you turn around with a questioning look on your face.
“There’s something I need to do this afternoon,” he says, taking both of your hands in his.
“Can’t I come with?” you say. Jake wavers for a second, but sadly, he stays firm in his decision.
“Sorry, baby, it’s a surprise. I’ll be back at seven with takeout?”
You can’t possibly be mad at him when he calls you baby and offers food in the same breath. “Only if you bring takeout.”
“You only love me because I feed you, don’t you?” he asks, a smile on his face.
“Yup,” you reply. You’re standing on a step, so you bend down to kiss him - you intend for it to be a peck, but when your lips touch, you’re unable to pull away. You let yourself get lost in the feeling of his lips on yours, in the warmth that takes over your body and makes your brain all fuzzy.
A loud, affronted gasp from behind you makes you jump from Jake, and when you turn around, Chaewon and Yunjin are standing in the stairwell, staring at you with wide eyes and gaping mouths.
“So this was a sexcapade?” is, much to your horror, the first thing Yunjin says.
Thanks to Chaewon, neither you nor Jake have the time to dwell on this sentence as she comes running down the stairs and pounces on you. You don’t know how a woman so small can have such force, but her hug is so tight you can barely breathe, let alone hug her back properly. “I knew you could do it!” she exclaims. When she pulls away, she seems so moved, it looks like she’s about to cry. “You finally popped your Jake cherry,” she whispers, but it’s loud enough for Jake to hear. A bark of laughter escapes his throat.
“Okay, thanks, guys,” you say, escaping this awkward situation and going up the stairs. “I’ll see you later, Jake!” you yell over your shoulder. The girls seem to be on their way out, and you’re more than happy leaving him to deal with them on his own. God knows you’ll get the worst of it when they come back.
As soon as you get to your flat, you make a beeline for your bedroom, plopping on the bed. You’re the same person, and this is the same room. But something within you feels entirely different, like a scar that you had been carrying around had, without you even noticing, healed so well you could barely see it anymore. You lifted your hands in the air, looked at the back of them, then at your palms. They were the same old hands that had been with you your whole life, and you were almost shocked that there wasn’t something utterly different about them after having held Jake’s hand for so long. Just to be sure, you sniffed your right hand, but it didn’t smell any different, either. But you still felt Jake’s hand on yours, like headphones you’d been wearing for hours and still felt on your ears after taking them off.
Yunjin and Chaewon are back from their shopping half-an-hour later; they got you a chocolate fudge cake from Tesco to congratulate you. “You guys are acting like this is my birthday…” you say, eyeing the cake greedily as Chaewon cuts it into three equal parts (even though it says serves eight on the packaging).
“This is more important than your birthday, Y/N,” Yunjin states as she pours oat milk into three cups of Earl Grey tea. “This is, like, the moment of a lifetime.”
“Are you saying a girl’s importance depends on her having a boyfriend?”
“Yes, Y/N, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Especially when said boyfriend is the guy she’s been pining after for all of her teenage and adult life.”
You sigh. “Well, he hasn’t exactly popped the boyfriend and girlfriend question yet.” They both turn to look at you, an annoyed look on their faces. You stand up straight, uncomfortable under their gazes. “What?”
“Usually, I’m all for clarity on this issue,” Chaewon starts. “But isn’t it pretty obvious here?”
“You’re still gonna have to tell us everything in minute detail, but Jake’s already told us what happened. He had no qualms referring to you as his girlfriend, so I really don’t think this is something you need to worry about. What you should worry about is when and where you’re going to hop on that dick.”
Chaewon bursts into laughter, and you can’t help but follow suit. “Gosh, Yunjin, you really do have a way with words.”
“I know. This is what having a Jane Austen hyperfixation at fifteen will do to you.”
Following Yunjin’s orders, you tell them about the events of the previous day and this morning over tea and cake. They ooh and ah and gasp in all the right places, ask you very specific questions and even make you draw a picture of the room you stayed in. You’ve talked to them about Jake so many times that there’s only so much to say now - but still, you talk for hours on end, deviating off-topic so often you end up talking about something else entirely.
You’re in bed reading for your Middle English Literature class when the doorbell rings. It’s seven on the dot, so it can be no one else other than Jake. It’s been mere hours, but you’ve missed him enough to last you for weeks.
He brought takeaway from the Indian place you’d raved about a hundred times but hadn’t brought him to yet. Somehow, your heart grows even fonder as you watch his reaction to the food, the raise of his eyebrows, the widening of his eyes, the excited shimmy of his shoulders. When you ask him about his afternoon, a wide smile breaks out onto his face, like a lightbulb illuminating a room. Without a word, he scurries to your room, bringing back some sort of book with him. He hands it to you with a shy smile and curious eyes, eagerly anticipating your reaction. The cover reads Y/N and Jake in his clumsy but endearing handwriting, with the date of his arrival in Edinburgh and an em-dash scribbled underneath. “I haven’t booked my flight home yet, so I’ll add the second date later,” he explains.
When you flick through it, you’re met with photographs of you and Jake on all of the trips you’ve done so far, as well as the various adventures you got up to in the city. There’s even one of you sleeping in the library at two am during midterms when you had forgotten about one of your essays, due at midday. Jake had come with coffee and words of encouragement, and now he could brag that the high mark you got was thanks to him. It’s not only photos - it’s also ticket stubs, receipts, stickers, and even a dried flower you had found pretty on your trip to St. Andrews. He’s also written quite a lot, from diary-like entries about what you got up to that day or songs that reminded him of you.
“You misspelt right here,” you say, pointing to a sentence that reads This is the café write next to the hotel where the last Harry Potter book is said to have been written!!! under a photo of you drinking a massive cup of hot chocolate. The more you look at the typo, the more it makes you laugh, until you have tears brimming in your eyes.
Thanks to Yunjin’s messiness, pens and pencils are strewn over your coffee table. Jake, flushed red in embarrassment at the small mistake, snatches a pencil and aggressively erases write, spelling it correctly the second time around. “This is the level of today’s English Lit undergrads,” he murmurs under his breath. His frown disappears when he looks at you and he laughs along.
You continue looking through the album until you land on a page titled Why I love Y/N. From top to bottom, left to right, it’s filled with Jake’s tiny handwriting. You can tell he put effort into making it neat. There’s a singular photograph of you, one that dates from the first days after Jake’s arrival when you were walking around in the Meadows, the park right next to campus. The sun shone down on you and you smiled brightly at Jake behind the camera.
You’re not a quarter through reading when tears swell in your eyes, rendering your vision blurry. You wipe them away before they can fall and stain the page. Jake has detailed every last thing he loves about you. It can hardly get cornier than this, but the fact that he wrote this about you makes your heart so full, you’re afraid it might explode in your chest. It ranges from basic things like the way she makes me laugh or her pretty face when she falls asleep in the train (or anywhere, for that matter) to more you-specific things like the strict pastel colour-coding she uses for her notes and her perseverance when eating spicy food even though she can’t take it. He mentions things about you that you didn’t even know, and that feeling of being known in-and-out, of being really seen by someone else only brings more tears to your eyes. Your favourite line comes at the end - the way she makes any place feel like home. A proper sob pushes past your lips at this, and Jake, who had been watching you with an anxious smile, rests a palm on your knee and inches closer to you.
“Why are you crying, is- Did I write something bad?”
You shake your head fervently. “No, no, Jakey, this is… It’s perfect. I’m just…” you trail, letting out a half-sob, half-chuckle. You look at him with a smile before pulling him into a tight hug. “I love it so much. I love you so much.”
You can feel Jake relax against you. “I love you too, baby. I’m glad you like it.”
You pull away after a small while, and turn the next page over. It’s a picture of you over breakfast this morning, with words WE’RE DATING!!!! written underneath it, and those simple words make you so happy, your cheeks ache from smiling. But every page after that is empty. Jake scratches the back of his neck. “I, um, I thought we could fill the rest out together. I debated just doing it myself and giving it to you at the end of the year, but I thought it’d be more fun doing it together.”
“It would. This is such an amazing idea,” you say, flicking back through the pages.
“I thought of it because of that project I had. When I started working on it, all the photos I wanted to include were of you, but I wasn’t sure how much my professor would appreciate that… So I decided to make one more personal. One for us,” he says shyly, shrugging like it’s no big deal.
“Thank you so much, Jakey.”
He smiles. “It’s no worries.”
“Did you do it all this afternoon?”
“I had started it before, but I added it most of today, yeah. Which, by the way, awful timing. I wanted nothing more than to spend today with you.”
Your heart leaps. You’re not sure you’ll ever get used to hearing such words from Jake’s mouth.
Sometime later, you’re laying in bed with Jake between your legs, watching the most recent animated Spiderman movie. With the tips of your fingers, you draw random patterns on his forearm, and if it wasn’t for his occasional chuckles, you’d think he had fallen asleep. You chat for a bit after the movie, but you find that after such an emotionally-packed day, you’re ready to call it a night fairly early. But when the lights are off and it’s just you lying against Jake’s chest, his fingernails grazing your scalp and his familiar, comforting scent clouding your judgement, all thoughts of an early night are thrown out of the window.
You shouldn’t feel so nervous - you had fallen asleep in his arms last night, and it had gone well. Really well.
“This is different from yesterday, isn’t it?” Jake suddenly says, breaking the heavy silence with a low voice. It’s like he read your mind.
“Yeah,” you whisper against his skin.
No other words are needed. You brush the tip of your nose along his neck until you reach his jawline, pressing soft kisses there and delighting in the increasing shakiness of his breath. The feeling of your lips meeting is so intense, so all-encompassing, that you don’t know if you’ll be able to handle anything more.
This is still new territory, but you’re both so eager to discover it that it makes for a messy kiss, lips moving against each other ravenously, tongues beckoning moans from the other. It’s a kiss that somehow leaves you breathless and breathes oxygen back into your lungs at once.
In a matter of seconds, Jake has flipped you on your back and is hovering over you, one hand holding him up and one hand free to roam your body. He slips it underneath your t-shirt, brushes it along the side of your waist, his touch leaving behind a trail of fire blazing on your skin. It’s so distracting, you can’t even kiss him back properly anymore. Jake doesn’t seem to mind. At first, when he starts pressing hot kisses to your jawline and your neck, you think he’s giving you a respite - but when he gently sinks his teeth into the skin there, leaving marks that will later remind you tonight wasn’t a dream, chuckling as you squirm and whine under him, you understand that this is anything but a respite.
You curse your earlier decision of not wearing a bra, because it gives you no preparation whatsoever to the sensation of Jake brushing his thumb against one of your nipples. With a loud gasp, your back arches off of the bed, which only aids Jake in raising your t-shirt up over your breasts.
He takes a minute to admire the sight of you panting and half-naked underneath him. It makes you feel shy, and you want to do something so that he stops looking and starts doing, but his gaze holds you in place. His pupils are blown with lust, eyes raking over your body and taking everything in. You have a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that it’s you he’s looking at with those eyes.
His soft lips attach themselves to your nipple while his fingers continue their work on the other one. You’ve never felt this sensitive, never felt this on edge, like you might fall apart at any second even with so little simulation. Your core throbs, impatiently waiting to be tended to, but you’re already trembling so hard from Jake’s attention to your breasts that you don’t know what will happen to you once he actually touches you down there.
“You doing okay, baby?” he asks, the rasp in his voice making you want him impossibly more. You grip his hair and he looks up at you, a tender smile on his lips. You nod your head yes and he laughs. “Yeah? You want more?” You pause at his question. You do want more, but is it worth your sanity?
It takes you a second to decide that it’s worth that and more. You nod again.
Jake seems to have sensed your hesitation. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I am. It’s just a lot.”
His expression of worry softens into a smile. “I’ll take it slow for you, love. It’s a lot for me, too.” He leans in to press soft kisses to your cheek, and some of the tension in your body diffuses. Whatever happens, Jake will be there to take care of you. “But it feels good, right?” he asks, lips moving against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
“So good, Jakey,” you reply shakily.
“Good.”
You can tell that Jake really does want to take it slow - his movements are more deliberate, gentler. But eagerness, both yours and his, soon takes over, and a minute later, he’s trailing kisses down your body until he reaches your lower stomach. Your breath quickens as he hooks fingers underneath your leggings and underwear, sliding both garments down your legs and leaving you bare to him. You think the feeling of his lips on the fleshy parts of your inner thighs is what might actually do you in, make you lose your sense of reality forever - but then his tongue darts out against your clit, a barely-there touch, and your whole body flatlines.
Your reaction eggs Jake on, who, more confident now, takes the sensitive bud in his lips and alternates between sucking and licking motions. A knot ties itself embarrassingly quickly in your stomach, a knot that tightens and tightens as Jake flattens his tongue against you, licking up your juices from your entrance to your clit; a knot that threatens to come loose when he slides a long finger inside of you. You can’t take more than thirty seconds of this.
“Jakey,” you say, voice practically a moan. Your brain is fuzzy and it takes a distressing amount of time to form a simple sentence. “Can you come here?”
“Is something wrong, baby?” he asks breathily, sliding his finger out of you and coming back up so that his face is right above yours.
“No, just… I want you.”
Any trace of worry on Jake’s features dissipates as he cocks an eyebrow, one corner of his lips tugging up into a smirk. “Is that so?”
This kind of boldness would usually have you rolling your eyes, but here, it only makes your core throb more violently. It’s almost humiliating how much you want this man. It’s definitely humiliating, how easy it is to swallow your pride and play into his game. “Yes, please,” you say, eyes pleading with him.
He smiles almost giddily before burying his face against the side of yours. “My baby’s so polite,” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”
“Take this off, then,” you say, grabbing the bottom hem of his t-shirt.
“So she says please and gives orders,” he jokes, quickly obliging anyway.
Not once in your time apart had Jake posted any sort of beach trip or pool photos, so this was the first time you saw his bare chest. God, was it one for the history books. You trace the defined lines of his muscles with a finger and wonder how he had managed to get even more perfect. He lets you marvel at him for it, clearly proud that you’re gawking so shamelessly, but your mind drifts back to more urgent matters when he presses himself into you, his clothed cock, hard and hot, brushing against your folds. “Fuck,” you sigh, bucking your hips into his to feel him over and over again.
It’s so much, but it’s not enough; Jake instantly gets your message when you hook your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, pulling him to you and kissing him feverishly. Your lips don’t part as he slides his boxers off, and you drink up the nectar that are his moans as you take him in your hand, pumping him a few times.
“Condom?” he asks, but you shake your head.
“I’m on the pill. And even so… I usually always use a condom, but I don’t want to now. Not with you.”
Jake closes his eyes as he takes a deep, stabilising breath. “I feel totally normal about that. Not crazy at all.”
You giggle, and he opens his eyes, a wide smile gracing his lips before he bends down to kiss you. “You ready for the night of your life?” he asks against your lips. “It’s gonna last five minutes, tops,” he says, making you laugh again. “I’m sorry, baby, I can’t do anything about it. I think I could’ve cum just from eating you out.”
“That would’ve been hot.”
“Really? We’ll make it a challenge for next time, then.”
When Jake plunges into you, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. He fills you up, slow inch by slow inch, until he’s buried to the hilt inside you. You both need some time getting used to the feeling - Jake drops his head in the crook of your neck and lets out a sound between a grunt and a moan, something you’ve never heard from him before. You grab onto his shoulders, fingernails digging into his skin as you try to tether yourself to him. You hold him so tight that he has no choice but to let his body rest on top of yours, his arms coming to circle your waist and bring you even closer.
His movements start out halting, the pleasure so overwhelming that it makes it hard for him to move steadily. In time, he falls into a torturously slow rhythm, but it’s the perfect kind of torture, the kind that has tears brimming in your eyes. It’s so hard to take, and yet you want more. You’re brought closer to the edge with every thrust of his dick into you, especially as he picks up the pace and lifts your hips to meet his. The new angle has his tip brushing against that spot deep inside you that makes it hard to breathe.
You can tell he’s just as close as you when he loses that steady rhythm he had found, his motions growing more desperate, harsher, quicker. Conscious of your roommates, you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans as your orgasm washes over you, your whole body on fire, so sensitive that the few more seconds Jake needs to come undone himself drive both your body and your mind into overstimulation. Even the feeling of him pulling out, drops of hot liquid dripping out of your entrance, is too much and makes you let out a small, tired whine.
Jake peppers your face with kisses as he holds your waist tightly, brushing his thumb back-and-forth on your warm skin, sticky with sweat. “You did so well, baby. So good for me.” You think you might be ready for a second round if he keeps talking to you like that. “I love you so much.”
You sigh deeply, as if you were just told disconcerting news. “Okay.”
“Okay?!” he echoes, looking up at you with an outraged expression on his face.
“I’m sorry, I love you too, I just- I’m not used to this yet! You can’t just tell me you love and expect me to be normal. You have to warn me first.”
“Can I just warn you now that I’m going to tell you I love you every time I get the chance?”
You sigh. “I guess.”
“Can I tell you now?” he asks, and you hum. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
Jake tuts. “I highly doubt it, but whatever makes you happy.”
You hold Jake close to you, one arm around his shoulders and the other hand playing with his hair as you come down from your high. You think he might’ve fallen asleep, and you’re close to drifting off yourself when he speaks. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this. Not just the sex, although that has been on my mind for a while now,” he says, making you laugh, “but all of this. Being together, getting to be in your arms like this, kissing you whenever I want. Calling you my girlfriend.”
“Me too, Jakey. I waited so long I didn’t think it would ever happen.”
Jake chuckles. “How stupid were we not to have noticed we felt the same way?”
“Very stupid. I think we felt so sorry for ourselves that we were stuck in one-sided love, that we didn’t even realise the other was going through the exact same thing. But at least we’re now.”
“At least we’re here now.” You and Jake yawn at the exact same time, making you burst into giggles, giddy with sleep and love.
“Let’s sleep, baby,” you say.
Jake hums, burying himself deeper against your body. “Sleep well, my love. I’ll be here.”
--
After years of pining after each other, you and Jake find it a bit hard to keep your relationship to yourselves, or your hands off of each other.
At the beginning, all of your friends had been happy for you, but that quickly went away when your and Jake’s honeymoon phase never died down and the PDA just kept on going. If the glue you were stuck with previously was metaphorical, this one was pretty close to being real. Superglue kept you together, your moments together rarely spent without some sort of physical touch. Yunjin fake-gagged so often, you were afraid she might actually vomit one of these days. It took Sunghoon two weeks longer than everyone else to clock you and Jake had started dating.
This meant that in private, there was truly no holding back. Jake back-hugged you any chance he got, to the point you started to think he was more koala than human - although that’d imply he saw you as a tree. Make-out sessions were a particular favourite of yours - how could they not be when your boyfriend’s lips seemed to have been carved by God himself, soft and plump to the heavens, like they were made to be kissed. Really, you were just honouring God’s will when you kissed Jake.
The goodbye that comes at the end of the year is not an easy one, and the month spent at home before you fly to Korea seems to never end. But you get there eventually, and as nice as it is to catch up with Jake’s parents after so long, you feign sleepiness after lunch as an excuse to get some time alone with your boyfriend. Ironically, this “time alone” is spent so intensely that you do end up falling asleep afterwards.
You have to admit, you really did a number on your boyfriend this time - what can a girl do when she missed her boyfriend this much? Jake is still passed out when you wake up from your nap, so you slip out as discreetly as you can from his embrace and get out of bed. You head for the closet first and swipe the comfiest looking sweater of his that you find there so you can stay warm as you look around his room. A pang of melancholia hits your chest - most of the pictures and objects on his walls and shelves are parts of his life you weren’t around to witness. Friends you don’t recognize, places you’ve never heard of, phases you’d never known he’d gone through. But then you see the frame on his desk, a faded photo of the two of you at ten years of age, eating ice cream on the bench outside of your house. Milo is sitting at your feet. Jake’s family hadn’t adopted Layla yet. You realise that even if there’s whole parts of your life you didn’t get to share with each other, nothing could touch your memories, or your future.
You want to go back in time and tell fourteen-year-old you that no matter how painful it might seem at the moment, it will all be worth it for the sight of Jake Sim slowly drifting into wakefulness, patting the bed next to him, and noticing you’re missing with furrowed eyebrows. When he opens his eyes and they settle on you, a sleepy smile will grace his dazzling features, and he’ll say, “Come back to bed.”
You’ll be even more in love at twenty than at fourteen.
permanent taglist: @zreamy @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts @moonlighthoon @4imhry @rikisly @loves0ft @iamliacamila @theboingsuckerasseater9000 @chaechae-23 @baekhyuns-lipchain @hyuckslvr @vernonburger @amorbonbon @fluerz (ask to be removed/added!)
© asahicore on Tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works. support your creators by reblogging and leaving feedback!
#enhypen smut#jake smut#enhypen x reader#jake sim x reader#sim jaeyun smut#sim jaeyun x reader#enhypen oneshots#jake sim oneshots#enhypen imagines#jake sim imagines#enhypen fluff#jake fluff
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
The captain's sister | Mary Earps x Reader
Summary: Where your sister finds out you're dating Mary. [Requested]
A/n: Another birthday, another fic. Happy birtday Mary!
Woso masterlist | Words: 1k
-----
You were on your way to St. George's Park for another England camp with your Manchester United teammates Mary and Ella. It was your first camp since you and Mary started dating a few months ago, so Ella asked the question she couldn’t get out of her mind. “Did you tell Leah yet?” Most of your United teammates knew that the two of you were together, since you saw them day in and day out, but you hadn’t really told anyone outside of the team yet. “I have not, and I would appreciate it if you don’t tell her either.” You gave Ella a warning looking, knowing the girl was a bit of a blabbermouth. “Oh don’t worry about me, I haven’t even told Less.” That actually did reassure you, because Ella and Alessia shared everything. “I think you should be more worried about her accidentally seeing the two of you together, it’s like you’re conjoined at the hip or something.” You rolled your eyes at her comment, “You’re just sad that Joe can’t come to camp with us.”
After arriving at camp, you hung out with your teammates a bit, before heading to your assigned rooms. You were overjoyed when you found out that you were rooming with your girlfriend, knowing that at least at the end of every day, you could be close to her, and fall asleep in her arms. Knowing that you would be spending most of the day by putting some distance between the two of you, you were soaking up some girlfriend time with some cuddles in bed. You were interrupted by a knock on the door. “Who is it?” Mary called out. “Tooney.” Ella responded. “It’s open, Tooney, come in.” Since it was just Ella, you made no effort to move out of Mary’s comfort. The door opened and Ella came walking in, only she wasn’t alone, your eyes widened as a blonde followed her in.
“This is what I missed after leaving United?” Alessia looks at the two of you tangled up together. “Surprise.” Mary jokes, but she quickly wipes the smile off her face when she realises that you don’t find it funny. “Don’t you dare joke about this, Earps. Now two of the three most chatty people on the team know about us.” You put your head in your hands, “Leah is so going to find out.” Alessia sits down on the empty bed, “So, Mary, the captain’s sister, huh?” Mary keeps her mouth shut after the warning look you sent her way. “Is that all I am now, Russo?” You were fully joking of course, Leah might be the captain of the Lionesses, but not once were you seen as any less of a player than she was by your teammates.
Your plan to put some distance between the two of you during camp was a nice thought, but as Ella had expected, the two of you stuck together like a pair of magnets. Sitting together in the dining hall, spotting each other in the gym, and partnering up for drills. Leah wasn’t suspicious of any of that thought, because the two of you had played together at United for years.
After one of your many training sessions with the team, Mary pulled you into one of the empty physio rooms. She closes the door behind you and lifts you onto the massage table. “Baby, what are you doing?” Mary smiles at you innocently, “Kiss my girlfriend, because I missed her.” You looked at the door worriedly, “Relax, no one is going to come in here.” After a few seconds of thinking it over, you decided that she was probably right, so you pulled her closer to you and kissed her.
Leah was in the hallway talking with Keira when she saw you enter one of the physio rooms out of the corner of her eyes. She instantly worried that something had happened during training, so when her conversation with Keira was done, she went over to check on you. “Hey, is everythi-” Leah stopped mid-sentence when she saw you making out with Mary. “What is going on here?” Her worried voice quickly made way for her stern captain’s voice. You knew that Mary could stand her ground but when your sister made big steps towards the keeper, you quickly hopped off the massage table and got in between them. “Leah, I can explain.” She pushed you aside easily, “You don’t have to explain.” She moved towards Mary and jabbed a finger to her chest, “I want you to explain why you are kissing my sister.”
Mary looked between the two Williamson siblings, not really knowing that the right explanation would be in Leah’s eyes. You stepped in and pulled your sister away from Mary. “Leah, calm down please. The explanation for why she was kissing me, is because she is my girlfriend.” Now it was Leah’s turn to look between the two of you, everything started to sink in. The way the two of you had seemed so close during camp, now suddenly making more sense.
Leah’s features softened, “You know you could’ve told me, right? I’m happy for you.” You smiled, “Thank you Lee.” But her soft features quickly changed back when she looked over to Mary. “If you hurt her, I will make sure your career is over, do you understand?” You roll your eyes, “Lee, back off, she is not going to hurt me.” She looks between the two of you again, “Oh god, you’re rooming together this camp.” Your eyes widened, “Don’t you dare.” There was a sparkle in Leah’s eyes that didn’t promise anything good. “I am the captain, I can change the rooming situation however I see best fit.” With that Leah left the room. You run after her, “Please, Leah don’t do this.” Moving past a confused Ella and Alessia, who start to snicker when they see Mary leave the same room the two of you just emerged from. “Told you so.” Ella says to Mary. “It was always going to be the two of you getting caught.”
-----
💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗
#mary earps#mary earps x reader#mary earps imagine#england lionesses#lionesses#lionesses x reader#engwnt imagine#england wnt#engwnt x reader#engwnt#leah williamson x reader#leah williamson imagine#leah williamson#woso#woso imagine#woso imagines#woso x reader
565 notes
·
View notes
Text
CM Office Party Challenge 🎉
The following are prompts including an Office Party! Reader, Original Character, Character/Character ships, Gen/Platonic fics are allowed!
This event is over (Masterlist of Fics here), but you are welcome to use any of these prompts. If you would like to be added to the existing Masterlist of entries, please check out the Rules below!
🎊 Prompts 🎊
It’s a BAU kid’s birthday!
The BAU throws a ridiculously large/lavish bridal/baby shower.
It’s rare that the BAU gets to celebrate the return of an old team member.
The team hardly believes it when Character A agrees to dance with B.
After sharing sad prom stories (or lack thereof), Penelope throws a BAU prom.
It’s characters first Missed Holiday Meal (MHM). It’s also the first time a holiday meal actually felt like home.
The team discusses holiday traditions. Characters decide to try a few out.
The FBI is throwing a family picnic. The playful competitions get a little… heated.
It’s the anniversary of the BAU. The team throws a party to celebrate the greats.
Penelope planned a Murder Mystery party… with a bunch of criminal profilers. Great. (Bonus if a non-profiler wins)
The BAU has been dealing with a lot of stress. Penelope plans a day at a pottery shop so everyone can make something. It causes even more stress.
The team pairs up to play the newlywed game. Someone starts to notice that, despite not being partners, A knows the answers to every question about B…
Rossi is finally (actually) retiring. The party brings together friends that haven’t seen each other in years.
An anniversary/award brings back old team members. There used to be a time when they couldn’t fathom a week away from one another, but they haven’t spoken in years.
More Prompts Below + Create your own! 🎉
Each team member has to find an obscure holiday to celebrate (pi day, random acts of kindness day, unicorn day, etc.). Character goes above and beyond.
Character has very surprising responses to Never Have I Ever. They have even more shocking admissions.
There is nothing that a bonfire can't fix.
Characters are stuck at a party, but they can't stop thinking about each other (based on "Dinner & Diatribes" by Hozier).
Characters always find each other. Even at a masquerade, when their faces are almost entirely covered.
A party is the perfect place to see a new side to your coworker.
🎄 Holiday Specific Prompts 🦃
Halloween prompts / Winter Holiday prompts
It’s time for Penelope’s Halloween Party! Someone comes in an… unexpected costume.
The single members of the team decide to host a lonely hearts club dinner on Valentine’s Day. Two people leave together.
Characters end up beneath very suspiciously placed mistletoe at the holiday party.
Character accidentally started an ugly Christmas sweater tradition which somehow turned into a contest.
After an awful case, the team comes back on Christmas Eve to find that Penelope has gathered their loved ones and quickly decorated the BAU as a surprise.
Character only wanted to reveal that they are someone's Secret Santa at the BAU Christmas Party but they end up confessing a lot more than that.
🎂 Dialogue Prompts 🍰
"... Surprise?"
"What are adults supposed to do at a kid's birthday party. Does anyone actually know?"
"Whatever you do, be sure to avoid the food. I don't know who made it, but it's awful." "Oh, it uh... it was me."
"If you help me win, I'll owe you one great big giant favor."
"I just never saw you as a... party type of person."
"I think you're bluffing." "Am I?"
"You are the last person I expected to have attended clown school. I figured your clownish nature was inherent in who you are."
"So, if you had to guess, who do you think is going to drunkenly confess their love for someone else at this party?"
"The year is over. Did you accomplish everything you hoped for?"
"I fucking hate balloons."
"What's the point of a fridge on the jet if not for a celebratory drink?"
"If we're stuck here all night, we might as well have fun."
"I love you. I do. But you are a terrible Santa."
"Next time, I'm in charge of the karaoke mic."
🎈Rules 🎁
The fic can be a Reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fic. It can feature any Criminal Minds character. AUs and crossovers are more than welcome.
Tag me in the fic, or send the link to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it for the challenge - I’m collecting both! You can also tag it “#mentioningmargins” which is a tag I track.
The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check. Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed.
Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post.
#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds writing challenge#criminal minds prompts#cm fanfic#cm fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds smut#emily prentiss#tara lewis#luke alvez#penelope garcia#aaron hotchner#matthew simmons#derek morgan#david rossi#jennifer jareau
193 notes
·
View notes
Text
"dance with me"
radioapple
alcohol, talk of cannibalism, biting, blood consumption, non-sexual make out
1110 words
@lucifersruberduck
alastor sits at the bar and pours himself another glass of rye.
it was angel’s birthday, and charlie insisted on throwing a party for him. it was starting to get a bit late into the night and the radio demon had been drinking all through it.
vaggie and charlie had just started a duet on the piano. alastor taps his foot along to the song, looking around the room. he sees lucifer, who leans against a wall with a cup of apple cider. he watches his daughter sing with a smile.
the deer demon downs the rest of the glass and gets up, heading to the demon king. “dance with me?” alastor holds out his hand for the short demon, who looks up at him with confusion.
“y-you’re asking me to dance? why?”
“it would be fun.” the radio demon shrugs.
the short male lets out a sigh and takes the other’s hand. he finds himself pulled into the sinner’s chest, an arm around his waist. he looks up at alastor, who has a big, genuine smile on his face.
the other demons look at the two in surprise, certainly not expecting alastor of all demons to dance with someone. and definitely not with lucifer.
the radio demon looks up as he realized the music is gone. “why did you stop? come on, i could dance all night long!” he laughs and twirls lucifer around.
charlie nods and smiles at the two as she gets over the shock, happy to see them getting along. she looks at vaggie and they nod at each other, continuing with the song.
“there we go.” he looks down at lucifer and continues to dance with him. “oh how i wish rosie were here. she would enjoy this so much.”
“rosie? is that your wife or something?” lucifer asks before alastor pulls him into a dip.
“my wife? oh no no no no.” he stands up and pulls the demon king back up. “i don't have a wife. but she is a very dear friend, very dear indeed.” he looks at charlie. “and she would love to see charlie like this, so happy with her girlfriend.” he manages to grab his glass of whiskey as they dance, quickly downing it before setting the cup back down. “but even if i was interested in her, i'm not her type anyway. she might be interested in you however.”
“and what would her type be?” the pale king asks as he presses into alastor, back to the overlord’s chest.
“tasty.” alastor replies simply.
“tasty?” lucifer repeats as he looks up at the other.
“though I must admit, her ability to pick them when we met was absolutely atrocious. but it has improved. our last meal together was quite splendid.” alastor gives a light-hearted chuckle.
“and how do you know i fit the definition of tasty?” the shorter looks up at him with a raised brow.
“you have angelic blood, correct? after the battle, rosie let me know that it has a spectacular taste.” he brings the demon king into another dip, one hand under him and the other holding his chin. lucifer’s own arms reach up to grab his waist in an attempt to steady himself. “though i do wish i had tasted it for myself…” alastor leans in close to the paper-pale skin of lucifer's neck and drags his tongue up the side of it.
the short demon takes a shaky breath, his neck feeling cold from the other’s saliva. “t-tell me more about rosie?”
“she knows a lot about the queer community. which was personally quite surprising. she is much older than me yet still knows tons of terms that were made nearly a hundred years after my death.” alastor says.
“like what?”
“i don't remember most, but asexual stuck with me.”
“oh? how so?”
“when i was alive, i never really questioned myself. assumed I would meet the right girl some day. i knew that being gay was a thing, but i never felt attracted to men, so i simply never considered it. I otherwise never thought about sex. but terms like asexual… i never heard it before, but if i had when i was alive, that'd be me. i must admit, i am quite glad there is an afterlife, where I can continue to get to know myself.”
lucifer can feel alastor starting to get a little clumsy and slow. “i never thought of it that way before…”
the sinner sighs and stops, leaning his head on the king's shoulder. “i’m getting tired… mind escorting me to my room?”
the pale demon sighs and wraps his arms tight around the overlord. he easily picks him up despite their size difference and with a kiss on the forehead for his daughter, he carries alastor to bed.
lucifer sets him down on the end. “you need to let go.” he tries to back up a bit instead the radio demon pulls the king onto his lap.
one hand is around his waist while the other tilts his head up. “i’m sorry, sir, but i am really curious as to what you taste like…” he breathes against the other's neck. “just a small bite? i’ll promise not to leave more than a scar~” he chuckles as he looks up at lucifer.
the pale demon is silent for a minute, the look on his face showing he was genuinely considering it. finally, he lets out a shaky “alright.”
alastor smirks as he presses his mouth to the king's neck, then digs his sharp teeth into the flesh. lucifer arches his back and grits his teeth, claws digging into alastor's back. “shit!” he can feel the sinner's tongue running over the bleeding bite mark.
then he drags his tongue over the bite mark with hands tightly holding him in place. he reconnects his mouth the wound one last time before sitting up, lucifer's golden blood dripping down from his lips.
he suddenly grabs the king by the hair and kisses him roughly. the demon king gasps at the sudden action and alastor uses this to slip his tongue into the other's mouth.
and fucking hell, lucifer can taste his own blood on alastor's tongue. he leans in and closes his eyes and stays like that until alastor pulls away. they both pant, a string of each other's saliva still connecting their lips.
“alright, i’ve had my fun. i’ll let you go now.” alastor smiles and leans back a bit.
the pale king nods and gets up, heading for the door.
“by the way…” alastor lays down and curls up on his bed. “you really are quite delicious.” he laughs.
oh this was so fun to write!!
#×angie files×#hazbin hotel#hazbin#lucifer hazbin hotel#alastor#alastor x lucifer#hazbin alastor#lucifer x alastor#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin fanfic#fanfic#hazbin hotel fanfic#duckiedeer#radioapple#alastor the radio demon#appleradio#radio demon
115 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sal Fisher x Popular!Reader
So it’s currently 1 am on a school night rn lol and I’ve been seeing so many of these so I decided to write my own. This is like…. My first ever tumblr post and I have absolutely no idea how to use this app so pls be kind!!!
GnAfab!Reader
You didn’t necessarily consider yourself popular, despite what the gang told you. You just thought you were… well known.
Yea that was definitely the best way to describe it
Your unique style and flashy clothing made you stand out amongst your peers, and you garnered a lot of attention for it.
When you first started freshman year, the attention wasn’t really positive, and you were talked about by almost everyone. Rumors flew around at such a rapid pace that it made your head spin.
You had heard it all. From “they a hoe” to “they sacrifice people and worship the devil”. But with Larry and the gang, you managed to make it through that hell and by sophomore year, everyone loved you and the negative opinions of you melted into ones of admiration.
Despite this, you were still sort of unaware of just how many eyes were on you, though. So much so, that you couldn’t even tell that your best friend, Sally Face, was looking at you with more than just platonic admiration.
The way you found out was so odd, though, and everything sort of clicked in your head when you processed it.
You were walking with Sal to your shared Physics class when someone approached you and complimented your outfit and makeup. You gave them a smile and thanked them and when they walked away, Sal made agreed with them.
Surprised you because he never really compliments you unless it’s a special occasion like your birthday or something.
When u guys DO start dating, almost everyone knows about it despite you only telling Ash & Larry
Relentless teasing from your friends, them saying how it was so obvious that you and Sal had googly eyes for each other. It’s sweet, really.
Occasionally, you would see posts about it on the school’s drama page where people would try and start up rumors again, but it never really stuck.
For at least a month, your relationship is the talk of the town. You get a lot more stares whenever you’re with him, but Sal will continue to hold your hand, effectively distracting you from the paparazzi-like gaze.
Sal doesn’t mind all the attention too much as he’s grown accustomed to it from his old school. It can get a bit overwhelming for him though when you constantly have people approaching you in the halls, asking you guys questions or just trying to converse with you both in general
It does kind of catch him off guard though since he’s used to all the eyes being on you rather than himself. You’re always there to stand up for him if need be.
“Omg, I see you in the halls all the time and I just wanted to say I love your style so much! Your outfit and makeup is so cute today!” Another student stopped you and gushed as you were walking to class with Sal. It was sudden, and the compliment made your heart skip a beat. You flashed them a bright smile before you replied.
“Thank you bookie, I really appreciate it.” The person smiled back at you and nodded, waving at you before walking off down the hall.
“You do look really pretty today.” Sal spoke from beside you. You immediately could feel your face heating up and you turned to face him, trying your best to hide the fact that he made your heart skip a beat. Sal never really commented on your looks, so to say you were surprised was an understatement.
A cheeky smile played at your lips. “If I look so good then why don’t you come and kiss me?” You giggled as you watched his ears and neck turn bright pink at your sudden flirtatious comment. Another thing about you is that you were a huge flirt. None of your friends were safe, and Sal was no exception. He quickly turned his face away from you, his blue pigtails following the movement of his head.
“Pssht, whatever.” He mumbled, speeding up to walk in front of you. Another giggle escaped you as he passed you. “Maybe I should.”
It was almost a whisper, you barely caught it through the noise of the halls, but you did. It made your heart flutter as you stared at him with a wide-eyed expression. You hurried behind him, grabbing onto the hem of his black sweatshirt to not lose him in the huge crowd of people blocking up the halls.
Then came your response to him. You leaned down (you’re taller than him in this, sorry not sorry to all my short readers), speaking quietly next to his ear. “I think you totally should.” A giggle followed, and then you dashed into the classroom, quickly seating yourself before he got the chance to reply.
Later, when you’re at home, you get a text from him.
Sally 💙
>did u rlly mean what u said b4 class? Abt the kiss?
You
>Possibly, y? Does Sally Face want to kiss me?
Sally 💙
>No… tf (maybe)
You
>lol ur so silly, ofc I meant it
Sally 💙
>Great omw rn
You
>doors open stinka
When he comes over, he’s a stuttering mess, fumbling over his words and cracking jokes to divert his awkward energy, which only makes you fall in love with him even more. You stop his babbling by pressing a gently kiss to the cheek of his prosthetic, your hands resting on his shoulders. His brain totally fries and all he can do is look at you with wide eyes. You smile, and give him another kiss, this time telling him that you’ve always wanted to do that. He confesses after, and next thing you know, you’re in a giggling fit wrapped up in his arms on your couch with the new title of Sal Fisher’s significant other.
148 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tobey!Peter Parker Dating A Plus Size Reader Would Include...
Request: Hello! I know I sent requests for "random request go!" so feel free to ignore me. I was just wondering - I was reading again your Spider-Man stuff (cause it is FANTASTIC <3 ) and I saw that in your note to "Andrew!Peter x Plus Size!Reader" you said that if anybody would ever want to, you'd be willing to write Tobey!Peter x Plus Size!Reader too. I was wondering if that's still the case. Cause if yes, I'd love to see it one day! No pressure of course, you can skip it if you want! Have a great day!
Oh my gosh lovely of course I will thank you so much, I didn't think anyone actually read those notes aha but I'm so happy you did!! Between Across the Spiderverse (which I still haven't seen yet I'm so slow!) and the Insomniac Spiderman trailer I am being well fed :)
Warning: mentions of blood/injury!
(I do not own Spider-Man or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @fmribeiro01.)
☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°
I'm not joking even THINKING about this as a concept is making me squeal because like?? Tobey Peter?? Omg. Absolutely adores you. 24/7, non stop heart eyes motherfcker. Be ready for him to give you looks of such gut wrenching love and vulnerability that you'll just want to squish his cheeks together and kiss his forehead like the puppy he is.
You were 100% Peter's childhood crush, no question asked. You were always invited around to Peter's birthday parties, where the two of you would be thick as thieves for the whole night. Even poor exasperated Harry would find it oddly adorable when it was time to give Petey his cake, and he would bashfully pull out the chair beside him at the table for you to scoot onto. He thought he was so slick, bless his heart, when he reached over to fix your wonky party hat with his tiny shaking fingers, or shyly looked over at the rim of uneven frosting towards you when Aunt May carried out the homemade cake and told him to make a wish. You were always the last one to be picked up, despite living right next door: Ben, the sly old fox, could see how enamoured Peter was. How he had the firmest grip he had ever seen his nephew squeeze out around your arm, and how Peter stood holding the present you had given him in his other hand, not even noticing it because he was too busy fervently nodding and being strung along by every word you would say.
Ben would stall your parents at the door, blocking the way in by pretending to lean on his elbow, and spouting off about whether he was going to paint the living room a periwinkle or an egg shell blue. When your parents finally started to get impatient, you kissed Peter on the side of his cheek and left with a big wave, not really noticing the way he was standing stock-still, his fingers tentatively touching the side of his face and his mouth agape, blubbering like a blow fish. May has never seen him run so fast up the staircase, but Peter's so desperate to curl up alone under his duvet and thank whatever he can think of for making his wish come true, touching the wet imprint of your lips with a revered awe. Eventually, his giggling gets so loud during the night, that Ben has to come out and close over his door so he and May can get at least a little sleep.
A lot of your teenage years is spent with you jumping over your chain link fence in the middle of the night to meet a very anxious looking Peter, whose face quickly grows into a bright smile when he pulls the latest edition of the comic series you've been share-reading out from behind his back. Sitting on the cold tile by his garage, the night would slowly weave diamond dust through the sky, and sparkling joy through the irises of Peter's eye as the two of you stuck your heads together and poured over the pages. Every so often he would have to blink away, pretending he was fixing his glasses because you would catch the side-eye look he was giving you.
By the end of the night, you've fallen asleep, slobbering onto Peter's shoulder. He hasn't moved an inch: as still as marble, and doing his best to hold his breath so he doesn't rustle you, and so he can memorise the way your gratifying weight feels against the side of his shoulder. So he can imprint into his mind how tender your skin feels against his burning neck. It's only when Aunt May comes out to shake the two of you awake from the school bus that he runs into the kitchen all flustered. He grabs his backpack, and says goodbye, but refuses to change his jumper because he can still feel your imprint against the coarse wool.
From time to time that day, you'll peer round the door of your locker to catch him leaning into his, so giddy he's almost vibrating on the spot, which is probably why he's so distracted he bangs his head on the metal top of his own locker door oops.
Lunch that afternoon is even worse! Sitting diagonal across from Peter, you slide into the table next to an already frustrated looking Harry, whose kicking Pete's feet under the table and making incredibly unsubtle raised eyebrow points your way. He's so sick of the way his best friend will spend every minute of his time with you just staring: peering over his fruit pot, blabbering incoherently to himself with ruddy cheeks when he passes you the salt and your pinkie fingers brush, looking at your reflection in his spoon, pretending to stretch his arms and yawn just so he can 'look around the room', which also just so happens to be only the part that you're sitting in. He just wants his friend to be happy, and honestly, he's kind of dumbstruck that the two of you aren't together already, considering his eyes light up like gold-struck dawn every time he sees you.
It's only when Flash Thompson passes by and knocks Peter's elbow out from under him that he finally stops staring over at you. Mainly because his eyes are too busy slamming into his lunch tray, and breaking the bridge of his glasses down hard against his nose. The spell you wisp around his heart is finally broken when the blood starts gushing down his nose, and you have to half-carry him to the medical office. He spends 50% of the time walking there apologising to you, and the other 50% of the time is spent trying to stop his fingers from clenching into your arm. You've tucked him into your side, holding half his torso against you so he can spend most of his effort on pinching his nose, but he doesn't even care that he's swallowing blood anymore, he's so focused on how close he's pressed up against you. The feeling only grows more fervent, more needy, until he's twitching his thighs against the nurse's table to try and get himself to calm down, when you stay with him for the rest of the period to try and wipe some of the blood away. The way you're so close to his lips, the way that your gentle fingers are dabbing so close to his mouth that he can feel his rushing breath brush against your hairs is making him go cross-eyed with how much he's trying to focus on you.
'You know...', you start after a minute, biting your bottom lip nervously as you continued to dab at peter's nostril. 'I have eyes, Petey.'
'I-I know that, silly', he says, his breath coming out in a confused gasp. 'Me too!'
'I- I know you've been looking at me. Because I've been looking at you, too.'
His heart seems to be slamming into the caged cavity of his ribs, and yet everything seems to simultaneously be standing still: caught in a hazy, gliding, wavering dream as you slowly... ever so slowly drop the cloth into the sink, and break through the few inches between the two of you to press your lips against his top one.
For a moment, Peter is so shocked all he can do is widen his eyes, not even processing that the thing he's spent every moment of his waking and sleeping life wishing for ever since he was a child was happening right now. He tries really hard to stop his whole body from shaking, as his silky lashes finally falter shut against the top of your cheeks and he tries to focus his whole attention on the way your plush lip seems to press so perfectly against his own. After a few seconds though, when he hears the clattering of trays fall to the floor and the darkness he was letting himself fall willingly down into seems a little harder to blink out of, he realises the sound was him.
You're worried you've upset him, or stepped too far, or misconstrued his intentions when Peter falls backwards off you, but that's quickly replaced by frantic concern when he starts sliding to the floor. Thankfully, your reflexes are almost as good as his, and you're quick to wrap your arm around his back and cradle his head against your breastbone before he can slam his head against the floor again. He has to spend the rest of the day lying in the office's bed waiting until Uncle Ben can pick him up, but it was completely worth it. As he gazes up at the inane, plastered ceiling, suddenly everything else in life seemed so silly and pointless. All he cared about was rubbing his pointer finger over the wet patch of your saliva still dotted against his bottom lip, his eyes filled with a million bursting stars as he saw beyond the ceiling and into the skies, thanking it for making his birthday wish come true.
The two of you move into his crumby apartment after high school, and honestly? It's the happiest time in Peter's life. Sure, it may be small, and the walls may be flaky and they may shake every time a train rolls past the tracks outside, but every time he comes home to them he's greeted by the memories of the two of you laying against them like when you were kids, falling asleep against each other's heads as you read into the night. Sure, Ditkovich may hound the two of you constantly for rent, and the afternoons may be drowned out by the sound of his friends playing poker a couple of doors over, but they were so easy to forget in the evenings when you turned on your slightly dented radio and made a flustered Peter dance with you across the room, not stopping until you had him held tightly in your arms and he was so embarrassed with his two left feet that he was hiding his head in the curve of your luscious neck.
And sure, you may have picked up pretty quickly that Peter was Spiderman, considering he keeps hopping out the balcony at random hours and leaves his suit sometimes crumpled at the bottom of the closet, but you love him. And he adores you more than anything any universe could throw at him. So life, for the most part, is good.
Honestly, it's so cosy living with him?? Peter literally has spider strength, so he adores it when you lie on top of him in your bed. After a while of just nattering peacefully to each other about your days, winding down by playing with each other's fingers and sneaking kisses through the brackets of your arms, he feels so at peace to feel your weight familiarly resting on top of him. This need increases tenfold after he loses Ben, I think there's something so comforting to him, to know and feel that you're still so close to him, that he can synch the anxious patter of his heart against your own. He's so sweet bless him. he gets so sleepy that his head keeps falling down on top of your own, but he's so quick to lift it up again. He blinks languidly, that honey-sweet, silvery smile shadowed only by the tempered glow of the warm moonlight drifting through the balcony as he tries desperately to keep himself awake, giving his full attention to you.
There's just something about drifting off to the sound of your voice, knowing that for once, he's safe. That he's wrapped up, looked after, comforted by the love of his life. It just feels really nice to be the one coddled from time to time.
Sometimes, you'll jolt awake in the dead of night by the sound of some strange, wistful whispering echoing from somewhere in the near empty room. It takes your brain a little whirring time to realise it's coming from the hand that's spooning your waist, and the nose that's pressed tightly against the back of your thigh. Turns out Peter spends a lot of his sleepless nights tracing over your stretch marks, nestling down your back and reverently dancing his fingers up and down the tiger stipes on your waist. Every so often, he would rub his nose against their aureate lines in a fond kiss, gingerly resting his cheek against your bare skin again as he tried not to wake you up. What really made your heart melt, though, was the way an awe-struck 'wow' would slip from his lips in such a reverential tone, that Peter became so overwhelmed and could do nothing else but leave a small kiss against the side of your leg, dotted by slick tears.
This man picks you up on his scooter after your shift at work, mainly because 1) you are a much better driver than him, and it actually gets home in one piece rather than being tangled under a car wheel somewhere, and 2) when he's super stressed he finds it so comforting to wrap his arms around your side and press his forehead tightly into your back, letting the whole world melt away until nothing but whirling air and the scent of you is left. He always arrives outside your office building ten minutes early, making your secretary laugh when she spots him straightening his best flowery tie in the reflection of the waste bin by the bench outside. He has his best suit on, freshly pressed, and is nervously stepping from foot to foot with a crumpled bouquet of roses in his hand, like a teenager waiting to ask his crush to prom.
Every. Single. Day. You honestly just wait for the secretary to buzz you so you can grab your coat and run outside; you know far too well that Peter either dumps his Spidey suit through the window, or just wears his proper suit underneath so he isn't late. Doesn't matter if he has to catch five buses from the Daily Bugle, or has to 'borrow' his moped from 'Joe's Pizza' to get there on time, he's always there. And he always wants to look his best for you, even though he's still so surprised that someone as ethereal as you would even bother to look his way that he has to shuffle a handkerchief out of his trouser pocket and dab at the sweat beading on his forehead.
It's either that, or Peter scaring the bejesus out of you by picking you up with his webs. You'll just be minding your own business, walking down the sidewalk on your way back from your lunch break, only to be hoisted, screaming into the air and past an equally petrified looking pigeon. Peter does feel bad the first time he did this, since you were screaming the whole time he swung you, but you've settled into a better routine now. You've found it easier to watch the scattered tiles of churches and the blurred crests of building whiz by while you're holding on tightly to his waist, and your feet are firmly pressed on top of his own so he can keep you steady against him. I mean, you might still bury your head into his shoulder blade in absolute terror, but he makes it up to you by landing you down gracefully on top of your office a couple of minutes before you go back in.
The adrenaline from swinging about New York makes the kisses far more heated, and it's always helpful to have a little privacy when you pull the edge of his latex mask harshly up past the bridge of his nose and nearly knock him flying over the cornerstones with how fervidly you smash your lips against him. His arms instinctively come to wrap around you, and even he's grown a little more emboldened by the knowledge that you actually do love him and this isn't some cruel villain trick or high school prank, to open his mouth and press his tongue lovingly against yours. He never wants to let you go, so before he lets you go back to your job he gives you a tight hug, and presses a million warm little kisses in a treasure trail down the pulse point in your neck.
This man literally has like... two outfits, so he's constantly wearing your clothes! Surprise! You come home to find him sitting criss-cross on the bed, face bruised and tired worn from his latest clash with Doc Ock, but your sweatshirt tucked over him and lifted up against his cheeks like a little hidden koala bear. Surprise! You plan a surprise birthday party for him with Aunt May, only for him to turn up after work wearing one of your jumpers! It's just so snug, and homey, and it reminds Peter of when he was ten years old; when you came round to sleepover, and the two of you would crash on his mat after spending so long pouring through and excitedly talking about the new quantum theories in the science magazines he used to buy with his pocket money, Peter would shuffle up beside you. With a sharp breath, he would tentatively turn on his side and pray he wouldn't wake you up, curling into the foetal position. With a smile like dawn breaking through the soft tufts of a cloud, he would press his nose into your shoulder and just breathe you in, hoping he would never forget it as long as he lived.
This man loves to take you out dancing, mainly so he can grin wildly and show you off to every other customer in the restaurant. Every time he passes the waiter, or the Maitre d', he points wildly at your back and mouths ecstatically 'that's my Y/n!'. He legitimately pools all the money he's made from the photography, and from the pizza delivery together so he can take you to a fancy restaurant uptown. He feels so nervous when he gets up with that breathless smile and offers you his hand, but all his troubles just immediately melt away once he feels your hand brush over the strands of hair at the nape of his neck. He falls against you, easily caught just like he was all those years ago. Your fingers feel so soft, so perfect as they slot between his own, although his left hand never stops rubbing over the supple skin of your waist as he sways the two of you back and forth in time to the dream-like lullaby of the string quartet.
#spiderman#spiderman imagine#peter parker#peter parker imagine#peter parker x reader#peter parker headcanons#peter parker x plus size reader#tobey!peter#tobey!spidey#tobey!peter parker#spiderman x reader#spiderman headcanons#plus size reader#spiderman x plus size reader#tobey!peter parker imagine#tobey!spiderman#tobey!spidey imagine#tobey!spiderman imagine
158 notes
·
View notes
Text
dabi x reader | huggles mc'cuddles
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DABI!! ITS FINALLY HERE!!! i got a request for a dabi x reader cuddling fic and that is exactly what this is. just pure fluff. completely sfw it's literally just what the title suggests. this is also FOUR THOUSAND WORDS. this is my first proper fanfiction ever so it probably isn't the best but i worked really really hard on it so please be nice! i am not an actual writer i do this for funzies, constructive criticism is appreciated though! if this seems out of character for him just know i'm holding a gun from the abyss right behind him the whole time forcing him to be soft and have feelings. also there's a lot of himiko in this can u tell i love her... ive got a himiko request coming out soon! also tysm to my friend @ko-konutty for helping me edit this!! thank them for all of the capitalization and correct punctuation lmao
It's movie night at the league. The main TV is set up in the living room and the tables are filled with pizza boxes along with various snacks catered to everyone's individual tastes (Like the blood pouches Himiko demands). It's finally your turn to choose the night's movie. And you, naturally, pick your favorite. It results in some groaning over having to watch it again, which you so diligently ignore.
Quickly pressing the play button, you all start grabbing your food and get settled into your seats to watch. The arrangements end up with you and Dabi on a couch together, Toga and Twice squeezing themselves onto one chair- and Shigaraki, who claimed an arm chair at his own corner where he played with his switch. Not even pretending to pay attention to the movie since he's seen it at least three times already. Spinner and Magne are sat right next to him on two bean bags, which are actually facing the TV. And lastly, sat further away from the group, are Kurogiri and Mr. Compress. Chatting in low voices. You can see as Kurogiri makes Sako a drink at the bar; making an effort to not disturb anyone who is paying attention.
Really, everything should've been fine. You're surrounded by the people you dare call friends, with food and snacks along with your favorite movie playing. But you just can't help but be stuck in a bad mood.
Your entire month had pretty much been shit. Well- your entire year really. And you just. Really really needed a hug right now.
As much as you tried to pay attention to your favorite movie and try to eat your meal before it got cold, you just couldn't focus for a second. Normally, you'd be eating and chatting with everyone else. You're typically giving commentary on the movie and/or reciting lines, but this time you just couldn't drown out your thoughts.
As a matter of fact, you'd been so deep in your own head that you didn't even notice the concerned glances thrown your way from multiple members of the league over the fact that you've been quiet throughout the entire movie.
Hell, you didn't even notice the curious bright blue eyes burning holes onto the side of your head from the opposite end of the couch. Not 'til a rough voice startled you from your thoughts.
"You alright?" Dabi asked lowly.
He had leaned closer. You had never been so close to the man before- his face just a few inches from yours in order to not be heard by anyone else, giving you the illusion of privacy. You could clearly see the concern in his eyes while asking, despite the rest of his face seeming blank.
He'd never admit to concern. But in all honesty you'd all been getting quite closer these past few months together. And you knew he actually cared about everyone in the league.
Especially you.
Who so far has been the most resistant to the "Family bonding time" as Himiko liked to call it.
Despite him asking you a question- you couldn't stop yourself from admiring just how pretty he was. Especially this close up. His beautiful blue eyes, his facial piercings, the little frown he sets when he's trying to put on his blank expression.
He watches as you start to zone out in real time, but just before you can get completely lost in your thoughts again- he snaps his fingers in front of your face.
“Mmmmhmm" you hum.
You're still distracted looking at the staples lining his skin, not paying much attention to his words. Surveying the room in order to continue to not make eye contact- you easily spot two heads already peering back at you. Making both Himiko and Jin freeze while they were 'sneaking' you concerned glances from their shared chair.
Ignoring them for now, and having let the silence stretch a little too long, you eventually bring your eyes back up to meet the intense blue ones of the man at your side. You watch as he huffs at your lack of an answer, flopping back on the seat he claimed as his own.
He wants to let it drop there, it's clear you don't want to talk about whatever's bothering you with him. He should just go back to watching the movie. So, that's what he does. … For a few minutes.
But he just can't stop the concern he feels over your odd behavior tonight. He's debating on whether or not to question you again- only to notice he's been unconsciously bouncing his leg. Deciding to just bite the bullet, he chooses a different approach.
Making sure he catches your eye this time- he asks again. "Seriously. You alright? You're completely out of it today."
And as soon as the words leave his mouth, he can literally see the cogs turning in your mind. It's as clear as day you want to ask him something, it's written all over your face. And in a surprising act of patience- he stays quiet. Allowing you time to fully form your thoughts.
This turned out to be the right move as you start speaking after a moment of silence.
"Could you.... could I get a hug?" you ask hesitantly.
Looking up at him from under your lashes, fidgeting with your hands, clearly nervous about his answer. But trying to appear unaffected. He can't even focus on your face though, because as soon as you asked, his eyes blew wide, his heartbeat picked up, and he was speechless. He's absolutely floored by your question as people don't tend to just ask him things like that.
At his silence you were starting to feel disheartened. Opening your mouth to quickly backtrack and apologize for asking but he interrupts that train of thought with a soft sigh before you can get the words out.
"You...want a.. hug?" He asks in a voice you've never heard from him before.
He's unable to look you in the eye to hear your answer- even if he's sure of what it's going to be since it is what you asked afterall. But It doesn't change the fact that his heart is racing just at the thought.
Lifting his eyes up to keep them from going back to your face: He spots Himiko and Jin on their shared chair. Right behind your head to his view on the couch. Both vigorously nodding their heads along to your request- encouraging him to agree.
…
As if he would deny you anything.
You may have only known each for a few months, but he's developed quite a soft spot for you over that time. This fact goes unnoticed by you, but not the rest of your friends as he's frequently teased about it by Himiko damn near daily. The teasing often leading to him storming out of whatever room he's in with a light pink blush dusting the healthy parts of his face, only to get teased by other members as soon as he's spotted fleeing Himiko.
He only meets your gaze again when he sees Himiko miming stabbing him if he refuses.
Turning back to face you- he sees your face is fully lit up by the TV. Bringing his attention to the dark circles under your eyes. He's honestly unsure of how he hadn't seen them before. Now that he's paying attention, he also sees the exhaustion in your body language. You've slumped into yourself, looking incredibly tense. He has no clue how long you've been like this without any one of them noticing.
But in their defense, you're not particularly close to anyone here. Always staying on the sidelines, always by yourself- Even when invited to hang out by the more friendly members of the league, You've made sure to keep your distance from them, your walls built up high around you. They can see it though. The way you're hurting yourself more by keeping a distance from them, refusing to get attached to anyone. They can see how you're suffering alone.
They see it so clearly, they've all been in your exact position. They WERE in your exact position right before they found the league. And they know that as much as they want to- they can't just force it. They can't force you to open up to them and be part of the family they’ve made. They have to wait for you to be open to reaching out. To want to form bonds again. And- here you are. Finally starting to break out from the hard shell you have around them, seeking comfort.
And you're asking for it from him of all people?
"Yeah.. if it's okay with you? You're just.. really warm." You explain in a soft voice, afraid of him denying you after you barely managed to find the courage to ask in the first place.
"Uhh.. Yeah. Sure. Of course." He rambles nervously, heart racing in anticipation at the idea.
He's quick to move. Settling fully on the couch in a position that'll be comfortable for the both of you. As soon as he's found it, he opens his arms in invitation- making it so that his lap is completely free for however you want to place yourself.
Despite his easy acceptance, when you easily slide yourself onto his lap- he can't help but tense up. He's reeling over being the recipient of such attention; despite him having expected it. However, he's no where near uncomfortable with the closeness.
You clearly already had an idea of how you wanted the hug to go before asking him as you wasted no time situating yourself over his lap to face him, chest to chest. Your knees bracketing his hips on the couch and wrapping your arms around his waist. You slump forward against him, hooking your chin over his shoulder, and nuzzle into his neck slightly before settling down. Completely comfortable on his lap now.
Once you're still; you feel hands that are almost too hot wrap around your back, pulling you forward the last bit so you're both pressed flush against each other. Those hands then move around your waist to form a light hold.
He's been tense the entire time. That is until you snake your hand up to the top of his head- lightly running your fingers through his soft white hair. Gently scratching his scalp with your nails. The sigh he lets out as he melts into your touch ruffles your hair, but you pay no mind to it.
What you do pay attention to is the fact that this is the first time you'd ever been this close to him. Hell, this is the closest you've been to anyone in years. And the main thing that captures your attention is his surprisingly nice scent. You can easily smell the scent of smoke and nicotine that clings onto him at all times, but even beyond that- you notice the smell of the strawberry shampoo Himiko uses. Along with the faintest scent of snow. You never would've guessed it but somehow it fits now that youre smelling it on him.
Being chest to chest with him you also note how warm he is. You've already known this but being this close? It makes it entirely different. You can just feel the heat seeping into your bones. Relaxing your muscles even further. The thought of seeking him out again after a fight to use him as a personal hot pack crosses your mind briefly and you huff a laugh into his shoulder at the thought.
He didn't even feel it, since unknown to you: Dabi's mind has been running wild since the moment you asked him for the hug. And in all honesty, he didn't really know what he had been expecting after asking if you were alright. But this situation definitely was not it.
Still, he's stuck on one thing, he just doesn't really understand why you chose him to request a hug from. Sure he was questioning if you were alright and was right there next to you, but if you just wanted a hug- Why not approach Himiko any of the times you saw her this week? Or even Jin or Spinner? Hell, maybe even Compress!
They're the more welcoming members of the league. Not him. He's not exactly what he'd call approachable. People are usually so scared by his appearance; or at the very least put off at first. He's not really a person most people would look to for a hug. Yet here you are- cuddled up on his lap.
He's not exactly a stranger to being hugged- everyone in the league is aware of Himiko's clinginess after all. But the fact that he was your first choice? Now that added a lot more impact. It's not as if you deny hugs from the other members, you've just never initiated them like you did with him.
That's never happened to him.
He's never been picked first for nearly anything, let alone comfort.
He's not even anyone's first choice of comfort in the league. It's not like he holds it against any one of them, but they all do have members they're closer to than him, and he's fine with that. He's content on his own most of the time, even if he does secretly treasure when the entire league is together the most. Even despite acting as if he didn't enjoy their company.
But, here you are. Taking a wrecking ball to everything he's used to and making him feel warmer than he has in a while. And not in a way relating to his quirk whatsoever. The revelation hits him hard as he unknowingly started to grip your shirt tightly in his fists, balling up the material, but you don't feel it. Already having fallen into a sleepy half asleep state against his shoulders- completely unaware of the way you've made his thoughts race.
You're enjoying the comfort from him as much as possible, especially since it's been over half an hour since the hug started and he still hasn't pushed you off. You're determined to stay here as long as he'll let you. You want to see if he'll let you stay on his lap long enough for you to fall asleep. You're fine sleeping right here, you just want to see if you'd finally be able to sleep for a whole night without nightmares if there's someone with you while you rest, craving just one night with a full 8 hours of sleep.
He only snaps out of his thoughts when he can physically feel Himiko glaring daggers into his head. To put it simply- If looks could kill, he'd be dead. Confused as to what he did, he looks down at you and sees you. Struggling to keep your eyes open, lightly rubbing your face against his shoulder. You had moved to rest your cheek on it instead of your chin, facing his neck, while he was zoned out. He was so out of it he hadn't noticed the soft breathing against his skin until just this second.
Having now been roused from his thoughts, he looks at the time. Taking note of the way you're quickly losing your fight with sleep- he moves for the first time since you climbed on his lap. He's intent on bringing you to your bed, as he doesn't know if he'll have the heart to wake you if you fell asleep on him, and he doesn't want to pick you up while asleep either, in order to not disturb you. He doesn't know how light of a sleeper you are and he's not willing to find out.
He also didn't want you sleeping on the couch anyway. Especially now that they finally have a hideout where everyone gets their own rooms; therefore you have your own perfectly fine bed. Which is much better than a couch. He easily slides his hands under your thighs to lift you up, making it so that you won't have to detach from him until you get to your room, and allowing you to rest against him for a little longer. You let out a quiet yelp in surprise, making a couple members look over at you two when he stands. But- other than Himiko sticking her tongue out at him when he passes her- there's no reaction from anyone else when he starts walking towards the hallway that'll lead to your room, with you, of course, still in his arms.
Your door is unlocked, as it always is because even if you're not close to the league, you trust them. That makes it much easier for Dabi to get in without needing to move you or put you down. Walking in, he can't help but notice the somewhat sparse decorations in your room.
He's not the kind of guy to snoop, but he's interested to see the parts of your personality that he'll be able to pick up from your room. He is the first person you've ever allowed inside afterall. And looking in just from the doorway- he notices a couple posters on your walls. Mainly musical artists and video games from the swift surveying glances he gives them. He also notes one poster ripped at the corner, but keeps walking until he passes your vanity, where he stops for a moment, he sees pictures scattered across the mirrors borders, some having people cut or scratched out of them. He also takes note of the little things you have there on the surface, like the necklace you made with a bead Mr. Compress gave you, along with your collection of makeup, some of which he knows you use in costume, some of which you got from Magne.
Not wanting to spend too much time looking about, making you question why he stopped. So, he continues on towards your bed where he admires the fairy lights you've set up. On your pillows he also spots the bunny plushie Himiko gave you when she found out they're your favorite animal. In all honesty- seeing you having so many gifts from the other members makes him feel a little jealous. He didn't even know you were friendly enough with some of them to receive gifts from.
He wants to give you something that you'll keep with you too, the issue is: He has no idea how to pick out gifts. Maybe one day he'll suck it up and swallow his pride for you to ask Himiko. He knows she'll help him- he just doesn't know if he could take the teasing that would come.
Dismissing that line of thought with a quick shake of his head, he approaches your bedside, bending over it slightly so that you'll fall over it when you release your hold on him.
Except-
instead of releasing and getting into bed, you surprise him for a second time that night by gripping his middle tighter and whining softly. He freezes in place as soon as you do and you start to tense up, worried that maybe you pushed too far by doing that, but before you can move, he speaks up. However, all he does is whisper quietly to you:
“Y’sure you want me to join you, Sweetheart?”
and you can swear you heard his voice break in the middle of asking that, but you don't point it out. You're too embarrassed over your request to actually verbally ask for him to stay with you until you fell asleep, so you just nod against his shoulder, hoping he'll take that as your answer and you won't have to speak up.
Thankfully for you, after that confirmation, he silently stands back up, with you still hanging onto him, and begins to shuffle into your bed, getting the both of you under your plush comforter, one arm wrapped around you the whole time he's moving. He doesn't say another word, he just lies on his back, with you now straddling his abdomen.
Still slightly embarrassed about the situation despite his easy acceptance to your request, you choose to not say anything for now. All you do is readjust yourself and get comfortable. Since he got in bed with you still on top of him, you assume it's alright if you don't get up from where you are.
Because you really don't want to end the most comfortable hug of your life so soon, that's the main reason you didn't want him to leave. But you'll also secretly admit to yourself that you asking him to stay was a bit selfish, as youve wanted to spend more time with him as well. Even if you haven't talked much to each other tonight, this entire ordeal has been a big experience for you. Tonight is the first time you've let your walls down even the slightest bit around another person in years. But what you're not anticipating is the fact that this move is also the first step to joining the makeshift family the league has formed. .
The family they've been trying to bring you into for weeks.
You're lying on top of him in a very similar position to the one y'all were in in the common area. The only real difference now is how you've fully stretched out your legs, and that your face is pressed into his neck instead of his shoulder, fully facing him now.
Once you're done moving about, his arms come back up around you to rest his warm hands against the dip of your back, which makes you release a sleepy sigh. Fully content to surrender to the darkness calling you to rest; there's something bothering you, keeping you from giving in yet. There's one more thing you need to do before you fall asleep. Moving your head up so you can make eye contact with him nstead of his neck, you mumble in a low voice:
“Thank you for this… G’night Dabi."
He doesn't give a response, he just hums and tightens his arms around you. But he doesn't need to say anything, as you're fully asleep within a minute after having said your parting. The heat of his body was making the call of sleep even more irresistible, and now that you said what you wanted to, you were able to give into it. As you fall asleep, you've started to unconsciously grip Dabi’s shirt tightly, curling the fabric around your firsts; as if subconsciously afraid he'd leave you right after you drift off. But of course he doesn't do that.
He would never do that to you.
Instead, he waits until he's sure you're deeply sleeping, listening to the soft sound of your even breathing against his skin, before his eyes find your face. Soaking up every detail he can make out in the low light of your bedroom, he lets himself appreciate your beauty. The only light in the room being from the string of fairy lights within the room; but that's enough for him right now.
In the stillness of your bedroom, with the only movement coming from you contently sleeping over him in your huddle, he finally allows his tears of blood to fall from his eyes. The ones he's been holding off ever since you let him into your room. The urge had only increased as you continued to cling to him, then shocking him by allowing him on your bed with you, to provide you the comfort you've been craving through the night. It had all become too much for him to hold back now that you're unable to see him.
The show of trust hits him hard as he lies there, crying silently as he grips you tighter, as if you're the only thing keeping him from floating away. The fact that he's the first person you've ever let into your room, and probably the first person to hold you like this in a while, if ever, makes his heart beat erratically in his chest. Your show of vulnerability to him of all people is doing something to him. He didn't even realize how cold he had grown until he was shown the lightest bit of sunshine and immediately began to thaw.
You choosing him to be vulnerable with already has him craving being vulnerable back. Already considering how he might initiate the hug next time- desperately wanting this to become a common occurrence.
And under the bed of night, as crimson tears still flowed, he whispered back to your sleeping form.
"Thank you too.. Goodnight.." as he places a kiss to the crown of your head.
For the first time in maybe his whole life, he doesn't fall asleep in pain or to the deafening noise of his thoughts screaming at him, which are filled with intrusive thoughts that sound suspiciously like his father. No. Instead, he falls asleep under you, feeling truly appreciated and wanted for the first time. The smile that spread across his face before falling victim to the lull of your gentle breathing stays on his face the entire night, never even once interrupted by the nightmares of his past he typically deals with every night.
#my hero acedamia#dabi angst#dabi is touya#dabi headcanons#dabi#dabi todoroki#dabi x you#dabi imagine#dabi fluff#dabi x gender neutral reader#dabi x reader#dabi x y/n#touya x you#touya x y/n#touya x reader#touya todoroki#touya todoroki x reader#touya todoroki x you#toya todoroki x reader#toya todoroki#touya angst#touya headcanons#league of villains as family#league of villains#lov as a family#lov#mha touya#bnha x you#bnha x y/n#bnha x reader
574 notes
·
View notes
Text
@steddie-week Day 6 misunderstanding
Steve was making the most of the evening with Eddie, as he would be away in Chicago for a week with family obligations.
"So, I'm driving up tomorrow, the day after is some big family dinner thing, the day after that is the wedding. And god, I am not looking forward to it. Weddings in my family are just about showing off, it's black tie, so I know I'm just going to be uncomfortable the whole time. Maybe I should be thankful that my aunt was able to talk her down from white tie, a different cousin on the other side had a white tie wedding two years ago and honestly, it was one of the worst things I had to wear in my entire life." Steve rambled as he leaned against Eddie's shoulder.
"What the fuck is white tie?" Eddie replied.
"Even fancier than black tie. Black tie I have to wear a tuxedo. White tie includes a fucking tailcoat, and my mom basically forced me into a top hat. It's ridiculous and over the top, which is why my family loves it. If we are ever able to get married, I want it to be nothing fancier than semi-formal."
"You would marry me?" Eddie asked quietly.
"In a heartbeat." Steve pressed a kiss to Eddie's cheek, before continuing. "I'll be wanting to ditch as soon as possible, so I will be driving myself no matter how much my parents protest, but I know they will kill me if I ditch too early. Then there's two days where I've got nothing, other than recovering from however much I drink at the wedding. Then it's my Nonna's birthday, so I've got to stick around for that. And then the day after that, I'm coming home. While I'm there, I'll probably spend most of my time with Danni."
"And who's Danni?"
"My favorite cousin. The only person in my family that isn't insufferable and stuck up."
-
The week away went mostly as Steve had predicted. He got constantly reminded by his parents how much of a disappointment he was. Constant questions from other family members about college, or what he wanted to do as a career, when he was going to join his father's company. If he had a girlfriend. When he was going to get married. It was draining.
But Danni was the shining light. He spent every spare minute with her. Ditching the wedding a little early, and ending up in a McDonalds in their formalwear, with her wearing his tuxedo jacket over her dress. Spending as much time as possible out in Chicago together on the days they had nothing to do. Talking and sharing stories, and gaining a deeper understanding of each other when talking about their partners, Steve mentioning Eddie, Danni bringing up her Laura.
Danni had more time to spare than Steve, so decided to join him in returning to Hawkins, to meet the friends he'd spoken so much about, especially Eddie.
-
After getting home, it all seemed to go downhill for Steve. As soon as he got in, he called Eddie, like he had promised to. But Eddie was unusually cold and dismissive on the phone, as if he didn't want to talk.
"Yeah, ok. I've got to go." Eddie hung up, and the call had barely lasted a minute. Steve felt worried, as Eddie was usually much more interested in talking to him, at any chance they got.
He called Robin next, and that didn't put his mind at ease. After a brief catch up, he brought up Eddie. She mentioned he'd been fine until a couple of days before, then had started to become a little distant, without telling anyone why.
"Maybe head over there after work tomorrow, if you've not heard from him. He's probably just throwing a hissy fit because you were away for a week without speaking to him and he thrives on attention." Robin said as the call came to an end.
"Yeah, maybe. Thanks, Rob."
Steve tried to make the most of the evening, hanging out with Danni. He felt a little bad that he would be leaving her alone for most of the next day.
"Dude, I'll just take advantage of your pool. I knew you have work, if I wasn't cool with hanging out by myself, I wouldn't have come with you." She assured him.
-
By the end of the next day, Steve felt more worried. He'd tried calling Eddie a number of times, but the calls were never answered. He drove over after he'd finished work, Eddie's van was missing from the spot next to Wayne's truck. He still went to the door, hoping Wayne could put his mind at ease.
"He's out with Gareth and Grant. He's fine, and whatever's bugging him, he'll get over it soon."
"Oh. Thanks, Wayne. Could you let him know I came over, and ask him to call me?"
-
Steve tried to put it out of his mind, taking Danni out to breakfast the next morning before hanging out with Robin.
As they walked into the diner, he noticed a very familiar back in the corner. He felt lost, conflicted. Unsure if he should ignore it, or confront him.
"I'm just going to the bathroom before we order." Danni said to him before they reached a table.
"I. I'm gonna be over-" Steve gestured vaguely to where Eddie was sat.
"Is that-" Steve nodded before she could finish the question. "If you need me to, I can kick his ass."
Steve nodded, before making his way over to Eddie, feeling a little nervous. The what if. He had never been good at seeing the end of a relationship, or knowing where he'd gone wrong.
"Eddie?" He said hesitantly.
Eddie looked up, and his face was unreadable. His friend's expressions varied from disgust to glee.
"Harrington, you here to confess? Tell us all about what you've been up to?" Grant asked, looking him upside down.
"What?" Steve was confused, unsure about what was going on.
"Oh, I said he would play dumb. How could he think he did anything wrong?" Gareth mocked. "We know what you've been doing."
"Seriously, what the hell are you talking about? Eddie, can we talk?" Steve asked, feeling desperate and wanting to get it over with.
"Go ahead, Harrington. We're waiting for your excuses." Jeff added.
"Can we talk outside, alone?" Steve pushed, not wanting to have to deal with Eddie's friends' comments. He knew they didn't like him, and would put the wrong ideas into Eddie's head.
There seemed to be a moment of silent conversation between them before Eddie got up. "I'll tell you guys how pathetic his excuses are."
Steve clenched his jaw, unsure of what Eddie thought he'd done wrong.
"Ok, what the hell, Eddie?" Steve demanded once they were outside.
"That's exactly what I want to know, Steve. Try telling the truth about what you were really doing this week." Eddie sneered.
"I told you what I was doing. Family wedding in Chicago and hanging out with family until my Nonna's birthday. That is exactly what happened. I mean I know I didn't call as much as I would have liked, but I was busy." Steve replied.
"But who were you busy with, huh? Because Gareth was in Chicago for a college tour and he told me everything. How he saw you out, repeatedly, and all over the same girl. Her wearing your tux jacket in a Mcdonald's late at night, looking all cosy over the table. Then seeing you out in Downtown Chicago. Holding hands, hugging, you lifting her up as you were laughing together. Then you show up here with the same slut." Eddie leant into Steve's face, spitting the final words out.
Steve was stunned for a second, unable to believe what he was hearing. "Don't fucking call her that." He burst out. He was aware of the door opening and closing nearby, but didn't pay attention to who it was that came out.
"What should I call her then? Homewrecker? Sidepiece? Whore?" Eddie drew out each word.
"She's my fucking cousin. You know, the favorite cousin I told you about that I was planning to spend all my time with. The one person in my family that isn't insufferable." Steve was fighting against his emotions.
"You said his name was Danny." Eddie accused.
"Yeah. Danni. As in short for Daniella. She's basically my best friend, and there is nothing I do with her that I don't do with Robin. Or are you going to start accusing me of cheating with Robin?"
"Well, I know Robin, and she's a lesbian anyway, so I know I don't have to worry about her." Eddie dismissed what he'd said.
"But you really think I would cheat on you?" Steve couldn't keep the hurt out of his voice, and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to hold back the tears.
"Steve?" Danni's voice cut through the tension as she moved to Steve's side.
"How much of that did you hear?" Steve asked softly.
"Everything after this asshole calling me a homewrecker," Danni replied, venom clear in her voice. "Let's do first things first. Even if we weren't related, Steve wouldn't be anywhere in the realm of someone I'd be interested in. Because he's a man. I've got a girlfriend in New York that I'm very happy with. So I'm not happy with that accusation of me being the other woman."
"I didn't-" Eddie started to backtrack on what he'd said.
"You know, Steve had really talked up his boyfriend. Telling me how amazing this guy was. But, it seems like his taste in men is as bad as his taste in women, at least with how they treat him. Because it's real interesting that you accuse him of cheating when he has told you about his parents, about how his mother has to follow his father around on business trips to curb his affairs. When his only other serious relationship involved him getting cheated on after they'd been together for a year."
"Steve, I'm sorry, I just-" Eddie trailed off, unsure on what he was going to say, how to dig himself out of this hole.
"I can't believe you didn't just ask me. You know your friends don't like me. That they could twist things to put me in a bad light. When I called you to say I was home, you could have said that Gareth had seen us out and asked me about it. I would have told you and invited you over to meet her. But you had to assume." Steve winced as his voice cracked.
"Stevie, I can make it up to you. Let me-" Eddie hurried over his words, and stepped forward to try to comfort him.
"I think you've done enough." Danni moved so she was between them.
"You can go back in there and tell them just how pathetic I was." Steve walked away, with Danni right behind him, heading for his car without letting Eddie respond.
-
They'd picked up Robin before heading back to Steve's house.
"I can't believe that he'd just accept from Gareth that you were cheating on him. Without even talking to you about it. He could have asked me or something." Robin rambled from where she was curled up against Steve's side. "I feel like going down there and tearing him a new asshole for that. He knows how much cheating fucks you up."
"I'm with you on the tearing him a new asshole thing. Maybe we should steal Steve's keys and head over to his, I'll drive, you can direct." Danni replied.
"Can you guys leave it? At least now I know what he thinks of me. That he doesn't trust me around girls that he doesn't know. That he trusts his friends words more than he trusts me." Steve sighed, running his hand through his hair. "I love him so much, but he obviously doesn't feel the same, or he doubts how I really feel about him."
It was a few hours later when there was a banging at the door. Steve moved to get up, but Robin beat him to the door.
"Munson." Robin's tone was cold, closed off.
"Robin, I. Is Steve here? I need to talk to him. I know I fucked up." Eddie pleaded.
"Damn right he fucked up." Danni shouted from the kitchen.
"I just need to apologize to him. I feel like shit for this. It was a total misunderstanding, and it's all on me."
"Apologize? You need to fucking grovel. You accused him of cheating on you, when you know that cheating is one of his biggest insecurities. Based on what? The word of a guy that has never liked Steve. A guy that has repeatedly tried to convince you to break up with Steve. Why the hell would you believe anything he said about Steve?" Robin's voice got louder, agitation evident.
"I know. I just got caught up because Steve wasn't here and I guess I just wanted someone to blame. I need to make this right?"
"Make it right for what? So next time you hear about him hanging out with someone you don't know you can accuse him of cheating on you again?"
"Rob, it's ok. Let me speak to him." Steve came to the door, knowing he looked a mess.
"Stevie. I am so fucking sorry. I know I fucked up by listening to Gareth, I shouldn't have let him get into my head like that. I'll do anything to make it up to you. I know you wouldn't cheat, I know you're not like that. And I love you. I've never loved anyone like this, and I don't want to lose you over this. Please, give me a chance to fix this?" Eddie begged.
"I know you're sorry, but I can't forgive you. Not yet. You hurt me so much by ignoring me and assuming I had cheated on you. I was open and honest about what I was doing and who I was going to be with. And you chose to listen to Gareth. I need time to know that you'll come to me when you hear something and not just blindly take your friends side. I can't be just waiting to see if you're going to hurt me again. And I'm not the only one you need to apologize to. What you said about Danni was unacceptable. What if someone said that about Robin or one of the kids?" Steve's voice was a little rough with the emotion of the day.
"It would have been fucked up. I was wrong, I know that. I assumed something about someone I didn't know. Please? Stevie, I can't be without you."
"You don't get to choose when someone forgives you, Munson. And you're not the only one who needs to apologize. Your friends need to own up to being wrong and accept that their view of Steve is wrong. That their treatment of him has been cruel." Robin replied.
"I need time alone, Eddie. I'll call you when I'm ready to talk." Steve walked away from the door, allowing Robin to shut it in Eddie's face.
I'm sorry
I am considering making a second part to this, but I don't know if or when that will happen!
Also on ao3
Now with a part 2!
#steddieweek2023#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddie fic#steddie#steddie angst#robin buckley#atimeofyourwrites#oh wow how surprising im leaning into the angst again
282 notes
·
View notes
Note
There’s a lot of “cocky guy Joe spoils his gf” type content to the point that I’d love to read the opposite spin on it, rich and successful badass Y/N spoiling Joe. IDK just a thought. Love your writing!
First thank you for the compliment, let's kiss. I like this i think its cute and i had fun writing it. i hope you like it!!!
would yall jump me if i said i was listening to question by chris brown when i was writing this? be fr its okay if you say yes
Anywaysssss enjoy MUAH!
—
Spoiled Rotten// j.b.
Joe and I had been together since he came to LSU. We grew into adults together. I stuck by him through the beginning of his professional football career. I can’t deny that Joe helped me make it through law school. We were such a strong team and so lucky to have eachother.
Now that we were more stable and in our “grown up” jobs, We could do whatever we wanted when Joe was in his off season. Words can’t explain how proud I am of Joe, but I can’t say I’m surprised with how far he’s come, he’s alway had it in him.
My love language has always been gift giving, and now that I had the means to do so, I can’t stop spoiling Joe. I bought him those infamous Cartier glasses when him and the team beat Clemson in the national championship.
When he was drafted, I bought us and a few of our closest friends box seats for a Cincinatti Reds game. He is always so grateful, so it's easy to spoil him.
I can’t say that Joe doesn’t spoil me in the same way. For my law school graduation gift, Joe took me to Italy to visit Rome, Venice, and Naples. Whenever he was on the road for long periods of time, he would never let me feel forgotten. I would wake up to dozens of roses at my door or huge fruit arangements. He was always so good to me.
Joe’s birthday was coming up and I might be more excited than him. I might have overdone it with all of his gifts but I just couldn’t help myself, not to mention the club I rented out for a surprise birthday party.
-
It was finally the morning of Joe’s birthday. It was still early and Joe was fast asleep, so I slipped out of bed and into the kitchen to start on some breakfast. I had just finished up his turkey bacon and french toast when he came creeping into the kitchen sleepy as ever.
“Happy birthday my sweet boy.” Being sure to keep my voice low since he was still waking up.
“Thank you baby” He replied with a quiet, raspy voice. All while making his way over to me.
He snaked his hands around my waist and pressed a light kiss to my lips.
“Are you excited for today?” I asked.
“I am because I get to spend it with you.” He responded with that same warm smile he always gives me in the mornings.
I smiled back and said “Well eat up babe, there’s a fun day ahead of you. Meet me in the shower when you’re done, yeah?” He perked up after that and just replied with a smirk. Gotta start the day right of course.
-
We had made our way to all of his favorite stores, Cartier, Louis Vuitton, Gucci, and many others. Of course we stopped at Nike. Baby had money but he kept it humble, plus, it was all on my dime anyway.
The entire day Joe had peppered me with kisses and a constant stream of thank you’s. Once we had finished lunch we made our way back home to relax before his party that he knew nothing of later in the night.
Once the time came to get ready, I chose Joe’s favorite dress to wear. It was always fun to have him a little flustered in public, and if anyone could do it to him it was me, but that’s besides the point. Joe had chosen an all black outfit with new Nike dunks we had got earlier in the day.
“You're the prettiest girl in the world. You know that right Y/N?” He said while smiling and putting on his favorite Cartier watch.
“Thank you baby. No funny business just yet though Joe, don’t fuck up my hair, it’s too early for that.” I let out with a little giggle.
“Oh whatever.” He replied
“Is that a sassy birthday boy I hear?” I responded. He just laughed in response. Before we could continue our cute little banter, I got the notification that our Uber was here.
“ Come on J, the Uber is here.” I told him
I grabbed my purse and made my way out our front door. Joe followed closely behind, making sure to slap my ass before he opened the door for me, always being a gentleman I guess.
We were dropped off at the club entrance and we’re let right in by security.
Joe began to question how easy it was to enter when he was cut off by his friends and family screaming “Surprise!”
The room was flooded with balloons and drinks. Future was playing over the loudspeakers and Joe was ecstatic.
“Baby you did this?” He said in awe of what he just walked into.
As the night went on and Joe had gotten drunker, he kept telling me how grateful he was for everything that happened today.
“Y/N you spoiled the fuck out of me today, thank you so much baby. Heaven sent you straight to me, I’m sure of it” He yelled to me over the loud music.
“Anything for my birthday boy, you deserve the world Joe. I just wanna make sure I give it to you.” I responded. Joe’s cheeks turned a light shade of red and I could tell he was truly happy with the life he was living.
We continued dancing and enjoying our night when Joe said “You gonna take up my offer of ruining your hair when we get home later? Can’t say no to the birthday boy, it’s the rules.”
“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t.” I said back.
Joe just let out the deep laugh he always does when he’s drunk. After our little “conversation”, if you can call it that, we went back to dancing with all of our friends, knowing what's gonna happen when we got home.
—-----
YALLLLLLLL not me getting all hot and bothered at the end whew. I’m supposed to be sleeping but this popped into my head after I read the request and I just ran with it!
You guys are making me so emotional over the love my other writings are getting. I could cry, this is insane. I can’t thank you enough!!!! :’)
Request here!
all the love- kitt
#joeburrow x reader#joe burrow#joe burrow fan fic#joe burrow oneshot#joe burrow imagine#fluff imagine
352 notes
·
View notes
Text
Whump Prompt #1304
@broken-lycan asked:
Hi I wanted to ask if you have prompts for emotional whump with two characters who saved each other's lives and are close friends? Perhaps with some injury caretaking like changing bandages or something like that? I really want to write something for two specific characters but am lacking ideas (even with whumptober coming up believe it or not) xD
Thanks in advance and I hope you have a good day! Your blog is such a good inspiration :D
Thank you for the kind words! So sorry this was pushed back due to my WT schedule, I hope you have a fun time!
I can give it a go:
"Why do you always do this?" / "Because you're always getting into trouble." - This could be seen in two ways: this could be the caretaker questioning why the whumpee gets into trouble, or the whumpee asking the caretaker why they always patch them up.
"I owe you one." / "You could start by not being so stupid."
"Is this the shirt I got you for your birthday?" / "Yeah... to be fair, I wasn't expecting [this injury] to happen."
"I can't believe you took that hit for me." / "It was your round the next time we're at the bar. Can't pass up that opportunity..."
"Does it hurt?" / "Not as much as my ego." / "[B], Be serious..." / "Of course it hurts, but it's easier to get it over with. I knew what I signed up for."
"I'll keep watch - don't argue - you're just gonna be stuck with me for a while." / "Wouldn't have it any other way."
"Would you sit still?" / "You sound like my mother." / "Hey, show [B's mothers name] some respect!" / "It disturbs me how close the two of you are." / "You don't call her enough. I'll be over for Christmas dinner."
"I should become a nurse with how much I have to do this. I get plenty of practice with you." / "Admit it, you'd miss patching me up." / "Let me get back to you on that one."
#whump#writing#prompts#ideas#friendship#friend dynamics#patching eachother up#dialogue prompts#injury#worry#comfort#angst#comedic whump
54 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fan Fiction
Content Warning: depression, toxic family, implied suicidal thoughts
Poison – Begins ≠ Youth
Jeha groggily opened his eyes, blinking away the sleep until the weight of them lightened. The container was quiet, everyone else still asleep after staying up late celebrating Cein’s birthday, followed by Hosu’s.
Jeha lay motionless in the bed, careful not to disturb Cein. Jeha had crawled into the bed next to him in the early hours before morning, Cein sighing loudly before making room for Jeha. Now, with the morning sun shining through the window, they lay facing each other, one awake and watching, one asleep and unaware.
Jeha watched his Hyung sleep. He thought Cein looked tired even now, shadows painted beneath his closed eyes. But they looked soft and without the weight Jeha normally found there. Jeha remembered a time when Cein looked less worn, but there had been darkness in those eyes even then.
6 Years Ago
Jeha squatted in the alley alongside the piano academy, his face buried in his arms. He knew Teacher would be disappointed if he didn’t warm up before his lesson, but he couldn’t go in there yet, not until he stopped crying.
“You’re in First Grade now. You’re too old to cry,” Jeha told himself in frustration wiping snot from his face.
Jeha wouldn’t let his parents see him cry. He didn’t want them to know how sad he was that he had to stop piano lessons. His dad was sick and they needed money for his medical treatments. Piano lessons would have to wait, but mom had promised him he could go again once dad was better, so he shouldn’t be crying.
“What’s wrong?” a voice called out to him.
Jeha shot up in embarrassment at being caught by Teacher’s son.
“Are you crying?” Cein asked.
“No!” Jeha protested, moving to wipe his eyes. But before he could, Cein grabbed his hand.
“Stop with the mask. Don’t pretend to be okay when you’re not. Let your tears out,” Cein commanded gently without meeting his eyes. “If you don’t let your sadness out, it will poison you from the inside, killing you slowly until there is nothing left to live for.”
Jeha stared at the older boy, his wrist still held in the boy’s larger hand. Then the dam broke and Jeha began to heave big, heavy sobs. Cein loosened his grip and Jeha threw his arms around Cein’s waist and cried.
Jeha didn’t know how long he cried, but slowly the sadness lifted. It was still there. He was still heartbroken to stop his piano lessons. He still felt scared at the concerned faces on the adults around him and the way his dad looked after his coughing episodes. But those feelings weighed less now, no longer demanding to erupt from him.
The tears stopped first, then his breathing slowed and became steady. “Are you ready to go in now?” Cein asked.
Jeha nodded with his face still buried in Cein’s now damp shirt. Cein patted his head and then gently took a step back from Jeha. He bent over and searched Jeha’s face for the answer to an unasked question and then nodded in return.
Cein led the way into the academy, and Jeha took his place at the piano and began his practice. He always got stuck in the same place in this new song. His fingers just wouldn’t move right.
“Like this,” Cein said coming over to stand behind Jeha. He reached his arms over Jeha’s shoulders and placed his hands so his fingers rested softly on top the smaller set. Then Cein rhythmically repeated the part over and over again until Jeha’s fingers took over leading the movement. Cein slowly lifted his hands until breaking contact, Jeha continued on his own.
“Great job both of you,” Teacher praised walking into the room.
Cein joined his mother at the side of the piano. Jeha watched Teacher pat Cein on the head the same way Cein had patted him in the alley. “Maybe one day you will take over as teacher when I am gone,” she smiled and Cein smiled back. But Jeha saw that neither smile reached their eyes. It was something he started noticing when his parents’ smiles had changed after his dad became sick.
“Jeha, I heard this will be your last lesson for a while. Why don’t we celebrate your hard work with a concert of your favorite songs for Cein and me?” Teacher purposed.
Jeha smiled and nodded with excitement, but before he could begin, Cein started biting his nails and his mom tisked. “Stop that. You won’t have any fingers left if you don’t stop eating them,” Teacher scolded. “Go ahead and warm up Jeha, I’ll be back in a minute. And you,” Teacher said pointing at Cein, “Keep your fingers out of your mouth until I get back with the bitter paint.”
Cein dropped his hands to his side and looked at the floor, his chewed thumb tucked inside a clenched fist. Jeha only dared to look for a quick second, but he thought he could see tears in those eyes. Tears that Hyung was not allowing to come out.
Present Day
Jeha looked at Hyung’s nails, chewed so short that the skin was torn and red, dried blood crusted at the edges of the shortest ones. Jeha looked at his own nails, rough and jagged from biting them. He wondered if his would be that bad if he wasn’t always being scolded. Cein no longer had someone to scold him and coat his nails with bitter paint. Then his eyes lit up with an idea.
Jeha controlled his excitement as he slowly sat up and slid from the bed, wary of waking Cein. Moving quietly to his backpack, he sifted through it until he found the liquid paper and the pen he had been searching for. Jeha had wanted to get Hyung a birthday present just from him, but he had already given the group all the money he had and he didn’t dare to steal any more from step-father. So this was perfect. Now he only hoped Cein really was a deep sleeper and not faking all those naps while they goofed off in the detention room.
Jeha held his breath when he painted the first nail. By the second one, he was brave enough to hold the finger he was painting. When Cein’s breath stayed steady and unchanged, Jeha was convinced that he was a deep sleeper and picked up Cein’s hand in his.
Jeha knew he should go home, but he wasn’t ready to yet. He still wasn’t over yesterday’s blowup with him mom. He wasn’t worried about getting in trouble for staying out all night. He didn’t even care if he was. But he knew his mom would be worried and he wasn’t done hurting her.
Yesterday
Jeha sat quietly, taking small bites of his breakfast, even though his appetite was gone. Step-father hadn’t even talked to him for the entire meal. He was too busy talking to his son, Mingook.
“Jeha’s grades are improving. He’s working hard with his new tutor,” Mom informed Step-father, trying to gain some approval for her son.
“Oh yeah? That’s good,” Step-father said without looking at him. “Once you have the discipline to study on your own like your brother, we won’t have to waste money on a tutor.”
Jeha put his utensil down, done pretending to eat. He hated this family. Sitting at this table, while this man went on and on about his golden son Mingook, his mother begging for scraps of his love, pleading with her eyes for Jeha to say or do something that would magically get Step-father to look at him, was unbearable. Jeha didn’t know who he hated more; the people he sat with or himself for biting his nails to stay silent.
Step-father finally looked up and Jeha froze, unable to drop his hand from his mouth even though he knew he should. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop with that disgusting habit of yours? Leave the table.”
“Yes sir,” Jeha said and quickly removed himself, a smile spreading across his face as he left the room.
It wasn’t long before his mother entered with a small bowl of rice. “Did you get enough to eat?”
“I’m fine,” Jeha answered coldly without looking up from his homework.
“Why do you have to provoke him Jeha?”
“Like it would matter.”
“Just try harder.”
“Try harder? Are you serious?” Jeha snapped bitterly, slamming his pencil down on his desk. “I did try. I did everything. For years. I played the perfect son. Put on a mask. Hid every part of myself that you asked me to hide. But it didn’t matter. I still wasn’t good enough for him. He didn’t care. And now neither do I.”
“Then at least try for me,” his mother begged.
Jeha turned and met those pleading eyes with his stony glare. “I already told you, I don’t care anymore.”
Present Day
Jeha didn’t feel anything as he thought back to yesterday. There was no sadness, and even his anger seemed more like an idea than a feeling. There were no tears he held back, those had stopped long ago. Cein had been right. Wearing a mask, holding in his sadness, it had poisoned him and he wasn’t even sure he was still alive.
Not long ago, Jeha had believed he didn’t care about anything anymore. He didn’t care about the way his Step-father treated him. He didn’t care about his mother’s tears. And he stopped caring about living long ago. But sitting here, the final nail painted with black and white piano keys, Jeha realized that he cared about seeing Hyung smile.
A tear slipped down Jeha’s cheek and a soft smile spread across his face as he looked from Cein to each of his sleeping companions. His gaze settled back on Cein, still looking peaceful in his sleep. It was nice to see that familiar emptiness wiped from Hyung’s face. Cein was poisoned just like he was, and maybe Cein had stopped living too. But as Jeha sat looked at that face, there was a tiny, scared piece of him that was starting to believe that they might be able to find a way back to the living together.
Thank you @raplinenthusiasts for the AMAZING GIFs!
#i couldn't stop thinking about them#own post#own fan fiction#bts begins youth#begins youth#begins≠youth#bts hyyh#hyyh#min cein#jeon jeha#begins youth fan fiction#fan fiction#fanfic#hyyh yoongi#hyyh jungkook#bts universe
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
feather
pairing: hueningkai x g.n reader
genre: comfort fic, almost bff2l, slight angst warnings: mentions of running someone w a car rating: 13+
wc: 654
a/n: originally this fic was supposed to be posted in july as a gift but happy late late (like literally 3 weeks late) birthday @fairybinie <3 i hope that your birthday was spent so so well and i feel like it's been such a pleasure to call you one of my close friends :(( i also wanted to say happy birthday to hyuka as well!! this fic is for both val and our favorite maknae so i hope you guys enjoy reading this!!
“I can't take another moment with him.” You groaned before tossing your phone into the backseat of the car and slumping down even further into your seat.
It was another one of your late night drives with your best friend, Kai, when you had been distracted with the sound of your buzzing for the past 2 hours. The individual that you had been texting, or at least trying to cut off, was someone that you thought would reciprocate your feelings but it ended like any other situationship that you found yourself into. The only thing coming from them was just the same three words that you weren’t looking for.
‘Send a pic.’
“Am I allowed to run him over with my car?” Kai asks but you sigh to yourself, shaking your head at his question.
“I think you should be, at this point.” But you always wondered why it was so hard these days to find someone genuine.
It had been over a year or so since your last relationship, and to say that you were still in your healing process was a bit more extreme said than done. You wanted to find your inner peace at some point, but it was hard when every other person was just like the last, making you want to rip your hair out and never be in another relationship again.
“Why can’t I find someone that actually wants to know more about me?” You mumbled to yourself quietly and stared at your fingers that were in your lap, but what you failed to notice was the latter’s glance that was focused towards you.
For the past three years that Kai has known you, he could’ve mistaken all of the supposed platonic dates and actions that you two have done together as purely platonic and just that. He never had thought of you in the light before where you had meant much more to him than a friend. But ever since the start of you looking for other guys to date and find love in, he realizes that he was stuck as the friend that comforts and heals your broken heart at the end of the night.
Even if it had meant running some of them over, hypothetically, with the car that you both were sitting in right now.
“I always like knowing more about you.” He speaks up with a small smile, making you turn your head to look at him as a playful scoff leaves your lips.
“You’re obligated to say that, you’re my best friend.”
Right, he was stuck in the friend zone.
Maybe someday he will tell you how much you mean to him, in terms of wanting to protect you against the world. The way that love should feel as though you’re a feather floating around in mid air, letting it take its course with ease from the moment that you have found that right person. Maybe that one day will be the day that he tells you about how he wants to be the soft summer breeze that helps keep you afloat in happiness, if you were a feather.
But that day isn’t going to be for today, as he knew that you needed him more now than any other day.
“Then as your best friend, let’s just go home and watch some Netflix, hm? No more being sad, and let’s just take our time debriefing ourselves at home.” He suggests while holding up a french fry as an offering, a silent one that definitely has more meaning than it should at this moment.
Another day, Kai tells himself, as he watches as you take the fry with a small smile and eat it, while nodding your head towards the direction out of the parking lot.
And when that day comes, he promises to himself that he’ll be there to keep you safe at all times; to be happy like a feather.
permanent taglist: @viastro @wooyoung-a @pwttychannie @sunwoahkim @karsohn @escapewriter @awfullytiredbuthealing @fylithia @i4deonu @flrtsbin @whereisgyu @myluv-yeonjun @allorysayshi @nlnkm @jannine00742 @rebsmoonn @jjhmk @ilvaussie @idontwanttobehereanymore @beomgyugyu @99cyj @butterflx @theoskies @biuebinnie @ja4hyvn @ilovechanhee @wccycc @invuwrld @ahnneyong @bambi-vixey @soobprised @comic-wanda @ksunwooqt @black-rose-29 @jaysbestie @glyxiebear @strawbrinkofdeath @vatterie @marsophilia @soonyoungblr @jinjccns @rosymetal @justalittlwtooshy @ineedsomezzz @serendipityjaemin @lilactangerine @baekberrie @theskzvibe @watanabehan (add yourself to my permanent taglist here!)
cannot tag: @brinnalane @iovaki @cowboyjaehyun @soobin-chois @kpoploverforever27 @Xoxozainab @f1usw @flowergirl95 @sadbixth11 @yoonslefttoe @allyg-onz @smolmochiminie @lilyluvsgyu @luv-ivi @Msxflower @ashxxkook @ineedaherosavemenow @yurikkiri @magicalstudentwhispers @artgukk @sunwooskies @fairy-of-sugar
#kvanity#k-labels#txt imagines#txt scenarios#txt fluff#txt angst#txt drabbles#txt x reader#hueningkai#hueningkai imagines#hueningkai scenarios#hueningkai fluff#hueningkai angst#hueningkai drabbles#hueningkai x reader
80 notes
·
View notes
Text
I dare you to let me go
(this is part 2 of my fic. Enjoy reading!)
Part 1 ↓
JAMESON
Jameson was standing in a maze. Green bushes everywhere. And whichever way he went, the end was green too. Except now. Now, a 5"6' hazel-eyed brunette was standing there.
"Heiress." He tried taking a step toward her, but the distence seemed to stay the same, maybe it was getting bigger. "Where are we?"
"Not we. You. You seem… stuck."
"I'm not stuck. I'm-"
"-fine? Is that your latest lie? Then why am I here, Jameson? again?"
Where was he? And why did Avery seem younger?
"It's not a lie, heiress." Jameson was starting to get angry now, he turned around and started walking away. Avery- or the girl who at least looked like her- spoke louder.
"I'm not her, you know. Maybe the real one doesn't even exist anymore."
"Shut up."
"Maybe she just-"
"Shut up!-"
"Jamie, I'm gonna start yoddling loudly until you get your ass out here!" That was Xander, but Jameson had no regard for a yoddling threat between his gasping for air like a drowning man. Apparently, the things that plagued him during the day had started following him into his sleep now.
He pushed away the sheets and picked up his shirt from the night before. Under it was that box. They same green box. How long had he had it now? An year? Two? And did it matter, really?
You're fine. Just get this done.
-------------------------------------------------
Jameson got dressed and got to the room. He was surprisingly on time, the only reason being Xander making good on his threat to yoddle. He was actually decent at it, but annoying, nonetheless.
"Do you believe you're being paid to arrange a funeral?" Grayson's tone walked the line between a question and an accusation.
"I need this entire-"
"That's enough! Thank you" Lyra inserted herself in the conversation and dragged Grayson away by his arm from the event planners, who went back to doing their thing.
The dinner last night may have been non-existent the last straw a disaster, but this party's going to be epic. Besides, Avery would at least be home for at least a while on her own birthday, right? She'd promised.
Jameson helped himself to one of the appetizers on the long table covered in platinum and shades of violet. He hadn't had breakfast. After everything was set, he excused himself to the garage and tried calling Avery.
"Your call has been-"
"You're call has-"
"You're ca-"
He plunked his phone down with force. Luckily, it landed on the soft leather of the Valkyrie's seat.
"You alright there?" Nash. It was Nash. Why was everyone so concerned all of a sudden? Avery had just missed her own birthday that he'd planned for days. Not a big deal. At all. Janeson rolled down the car's window glass.
"I am fine."
"You're staying to sound more like Gray than Gray used to himself," Nash took that as his cue to get in the passanger seat.
"Whatever you and Avery have going on, just talk to-"
"Do you think I haven't tried?" It came out slow with a hint of frustration. They were face to face now. "There's always another call, there's always another problem, there's always another person expecting the most from her and she's trying to live up to them more and more."
To that, Nash had no answer. They just say like that for a while.
"Try talking to her today. She might just listen." He patted Jamie on the shoulder and got out.
-------------------------------------------------
"I can't feel my faxing legs," Max whispered, sitting in a crouch. After a long day of planning Avery's party, everyone was sitting in a crouch waiting for her to come and surprise her.
"Sit on me, then," Xander whispered back to her.
"Oh, get a room you two!" Libby whisper-yelled at them, just as the door rattled.
"SURPRISE!!"
"Oh, my God!" Said… Mrs. Laughlin, who almost dropped the tray of crab cakes in her hands.
"Ugh. I can't crouch for much longer! Where is this beach?" Max whimpered, kicking her feet.
After two hours, all the dishes were half-empty, the wine half-drunk, and half the people previously in the room had dispersed.
"So-"
"Before you say what your about to say, Gray, just like everyone else in this house, I'm okay, and so is Avery."
Grayson frowned. "I've been where you are, Jamie. If you have to keep telling yourself you're okay, you definitely aren't."
Jameson felt Grayson call out to him as he stormed out walked away.
He was done. He was so done. With his brothers' concern, with Lyra's unnecessary inputs.
With Avery.
The floodgates were open now, just like the door of his bathroom as he slammed it back shut. He was angry, no, frustrated. He was frustrated at the dinner, he was frustrated as he threw the green box from his pocket at the sink, he was frustrated as he felt the mirror shatter beneath his knuckles. He could suddenly see a thousand reflections of himself. But every reflection in every piece of the shattered mirror was a shell of what Jameson Hawthorne used to be. How he used to be.
He staggered back, still staring at his reflections until his back hit the door as he slowly sunk to the floor. And just like that, the tears and the memories came rushing out to the surface.
"Maybe the real one doesn't even exist anymore."
"She told me she's going to make it up to you"
"If you have to keep telling yourself you're okay, you definitely aren't."
"How many times have you had your heart broken over the last five years?"
And with the painful memories and the exploding bottled up feelings came crystal clarity, for the first time in a long time.
I can't do this anymore.
Loving Avery had made him love himself too, it made him realise his self-worth. He got to see what he deserved. But this, right now? He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to pretend to be happy. He didn't deserve to settle for a shell of what him and Avery used to be. He always says he can't imagine a life without Avery, maybe that was never a good thing. He had to start living for himself.
And there was only one way to do that.
#the inheritance games#tig fanfic#the grandest game#jameson hawthorne#tig#averyjameson#avery grambs#javery#IDYTLMG
27 notes
·
View notes
Note
Pink!! Thank you for all you do. I’m not in Lolita yet (lack of funds so severe even your guides cannot penetrate it), but I can’t wait to make use of your tutorials.
In the meantime, I have a question! I was given a sewing machine for Christmas in 2021, an Ever Sewn Sparrow 20. Unfortunately for my birthday in 2020, I was given Horrific Depression, and I still haven’t managed to find the receipt for it. My sewing machine has been in its box, never used, for a year and a half.
Recently I got some clothing from goodwill that I need to alter so that I can wear it, and I’d like to use my sewing machine. I know how to thread it and wind a bobbin and do all the normal setup things, but I wanted to ask: is there anything else I should check in addition to the normal setup things? Am I going to need to get it serviced before I can use it?
Thanks!
The most common problems that people have when they take a machine out of storage are problems based around the fact that the machine was in storage. Baby, they are born to run. You won't start a car up for the first time after leaving it alone for years, and expect it to be perfect. Your machine is the same.
So there's two main concerns: dust, and locking up. If the machine was somewhere that dust could get on it, make sure dust didn't get in it. Generally, most machines have holes near the bobbin winder where things could get messy. If there's a lot of dust in the machine, you might want to take the plastic cover off and see if you can clean it. Otherwise, vacuum is your friend. Take your vacuum's hose and vacuum the dust out as best you can. It won't get everything, but better is better than nothing.
Locking up can be a bigger problem. Even if your machine was greased and oiled before it sat, sitting doesn't things to the oil. If it's gotten hot and then cold and back again, the oil and grease could have melted into weird locations. Sometimes, you will try to turn the hand wheel, and it just won't go. First, stick a flashlight up to the thread uptake lever, and see if there's any thread in there. If it looks clean, then it's probably an oil bind. (if there is thread, you're going to have to take that out first. Info on that in a minute). Patience is your secret here. Even if it won't turn much, if you can get a little bit of movement, you can usually get a locked up machine un-stuck. Rock your hand wheel back and forth for a few minutes. Remember that your eventual goal is to turn it forward, but get whatever movement you can however you can. Once it's free, turn it by hand for several full cycles. I like to go with about 20, but it's really until it feels pretty free. Then, plug in your machine and run it for a few minutes. I put a piece of paper under the foot and "sew" along the paper until I've filled the whole paper up with holes.
If you've tried and you really just can't get it free, try putting it in a hot car for about five minutes and then coming back to it. Melty oil turns better than cold oil. Try to run it while it cools so that you don't have pooling oil in strange places.
If the machine is locked up, there's a good chance that the presser foot had gotten sluggish or locked as well. Movement is key here, as well. You might need to put the foot down and then physically pull the foot down, but just like breaking the machine free, you can break the presser foot free with repeat motion.
So that's the first things I check: dust, wheel turning, presser foot going up and down. If it looks clean from out of the box, good news!
I then generally do a fast oil. Most modern machines don't need the user to oil it, and you can get into trouble if you oil it where you shouldn't. We usually tell customers at my work to never oil their machines, and let the service tech do it. However, if you're not going to, here's some info on it. Most importantly, you only want to oil metal-on-metal joints. Oil plus plastic isn't long term good.
I'm using a Janome Derby here because it was the easiest machine for me to get that wasn't a Viking or a Pfaff. Those both use security screws and make getting into it a pain (and my Viking is still under warranty and don't want to void it). The parts are the same in most machines.
Take off your metal plate so that you have access to your feed teeth and your bobbin case.
Make sure there's nothing stuck in the bobbin case, like thread. Especially check your tension spring.
Under the bobbin case is a joint you want to oil. Many machines have a felt pad here to hold and dispense oil. If you have a felt pad, you want to put however many drops on it as you need to get it full of oil. If you do not have a felt pad, you will want to do one drop of oil, right in the center.
On this machine, because all of this is plastic, you don't want to use any oil. However, any competent machine will have metal down here.
Check the top of your bobbin case for needle strikes. If there's a really bad strike, you might need a new bobbin case. If you have any plastic burrs sticking out from a needle strike, you can usually carefully shave the sharp parts off with a sharp razor blade.
Check the plate for needle strikes around the needle hole. If there's any burrs, you can use a nail file or some high grit sandpaper to remove them.
BTW, your bobbin case has Batman ears on it. Batman's ears point up. If the bobbin case is in the machine properly, Batman's ears will be point upward and the case won't be able to rotate when you try to turn it counter-clockwise. There's a little finger on the 5 o'clock position of the bobbin case, and that usually rests against a stop or sensor to stop the case from turning.
If you have a Brother or a Baby Lock, your machine may have a metal throat plate, and then a little L-shaped plastic collar. If it does, put the metal plate on first, then the bobbin case, then the plastic part. This will help make sure the bobbin case is straight.
Most machines will let you take off the front cover here. This gives you access to two important places.
If your presser foot is sluggish, cleaning and oiling the presser foot bar will free it. I like acetone on a q-tip for this, just cleaning all the parts of the bar that I can reach. There will be two metal sleeves that the bar passes through. Put one drop of oil on the top of each with the foot up, and then put the foot up and down to get the oil in the sleeve. You'll want to oil this even if your foot isn't sluggish.
Your thread uptake is the part that goes up and down when you thread the machine. It's the thingy that's the reason why you need to put your needle up before you thread your machine.
Thread loves to get wrapped around this. Take some time to see if there is thread, and if there is to unwind it. You usually have to turn the wheel backwards to get the thread off.
You'll also want to oil the piece that connects to the uptake. It's a big part. If your machine has a little hole on the front of the crank that turns the uptake, you will want to fill that up with oil. If there's no hole, put a drop on the seam between the two pieces and hope that some of it gets down there.
And that's about all I do. Stick the front plate back on (if it's a Brother, make sure you're getting the needle threader lined up with the little lever on the face plate that moves the threader). You should be good to go.
Remember: only sewing machine oil should go in your sewing machine. No other oils, just good old sewing machine oil. NOT three in one oil, no matter what the can says. You also only want to put a single drop on any space, unless there's a felt pad or a hole to hold more than a drop.
And plenty of people will pull their machine from storage and use it with no problem. I'm just sharing this info in case you or someone else wants to do this. A lot of machines are considered disposable or not worth professionally servicing, and knowing how to do this can add some life to your machine. Just remember the number one rule, no oil on plastic parts.
89 notes
·
View notes
Text
brief post about kaeya's potential future arc (or why 5 star kaeya will totally happen ✨️)
so something i noticed is that kaeya always removes or distances himself from the end of any situation he's in. (it's much more noticeable in his hangout).
first is crepus's death. he hangs back and doesn't get involved in his final moments.
kaeya disappears in the final section of the ballads and brews event. you can find and talk to every character except him.
in the venti route of his hangout, kaeya stays back when it's time to sing with everyone. venti then drags him back in. (what's odd is that venti didn't even notice he was gone at first 👀 "now you see them, now you don't")
Kaeya: Slipping away before the final verse is sung, before the poet has uttered the last line, before everything has concluded… I don't know, something about it just resonates with me.
klee says kaeya hasn't read her the end of the book series the fox and the dandelion sea yet, which is about a guy stuck in a loop. in somewhat the same vein, in the secret summer event, he tells her a story about the jinni and a shepard boy but changes the ending from what we know from the in game book…
and then we have the prince qubad play, where he quietly exits after it ends. he explains why himself (through nahida's auge):
(Use Nahida's All Schemes to Know on Kaeya, optional)
Kaeya: (I always like to extricate myself before things start getting tedious.)
he also silently does things for others without wanting to take credit, i.e. being rewarded.
and i think i know why 😏
in his character story, kaeya is referred to as a chess pawn in CN, he then repeats this in his hangout.
Kaeya: But I shall not bow to the will of fate. I am no pawn in heaven's plan.
further emphasizing it's not a random throw away term.
i'm neither chess expert nor chess amateur. but anyone can pull up a wikipedia page 😤
pawns are the only pieces that can't move backward, pawns can get promoted to another piece when they reach the end of the board, and… pawns are expandable, made to be sacrificed for the kingdom.
he even expresses the desire to age backwards….which pawns can't do of course.
A very simple such analogy is the Pawn — the expendable, powerless, nameless foot soldier who may, if his actions are brave and his heart is true, become a Queen (although someone more practised at the game may note that the pawn is really a symbol of why you should never overlook apparently powerless people).
that sounds exactly like kaeya's situation, doesn't it? many people have questioned why kaeya is a 4 star given his importance to the main plot, but i think it could be a deliberate narrative decision. (at least i hope it is 😬)
if kaeya is a pawn he can be promoted to a queen when he reaches the end…. except kaeya doesn't want to, as demonstrated by his unwillingness to see things through till the end.
why would he do this?
simply put, it's foreshadowing 😏
kaeya will have his character arc eventually, where the only sensible path is accepting that he must reach the end because pawns cannot stay pawns forever
Promotion is mandatory when moving to the last rank; the pawn cannot remain as a pawn.
there is some sick sense of irony in him declaring he won't be heaven's pawn, when a pawn can only stop being a pawn by moving forward.
i think kaeya's birthday letter about tcg of all things is also hinting at his arc:
If you think about it, playing cards aren't easy at all — you gotta do the math before throwing the dice, and be extra careful with your every move. One step wrong, and the whole table is turned. When that happens, don't you think it's most amusing to watch your opponent's frustrated face, hmm?
(uh oh, celestia 🤭)
say he does reach this metaphorical last rank, what would that look like for him? gameplay wise it would mean a promotion to 5 star status. story wise? a magical girl transformation into the second coming of fischl.
haha ok but, unfortunately i doubt it's that simple.
something else that has been foreshadowed is kaeya's eventual fate…
Traveler: What did you think of the story?
Kaeya: It was alright. I suppose the hero always has to sacrifice himself to save others, and it does make for some good storytelling. But it leaves you wondering how he really feels about the whole thing. Did he ever have second thoughts? Only he can know, I suppose.
Kaeya: My dear audience, I ask you this: Do you believe in fate? If fate decreed that your life was to end in tragedy, what would you do?
Kaeya: I, Qubad, will spend the rest of my days in a foreign land, till I breathe my last in a place far from home.
Kaeya: And anyway, life is short, so we should make the most of the time we have. Right now is the perfect time to relax and enjoy ourselves, and who knows how many other chances we'll get. So come on, what do you say?
Fallen I
还没尽…兴…
Haven't enjoyed...to the fullest...
When It's Windy
真是和平啊、可又能持续多久呢？
How peaceful, but how long can it last?
Traveler: Good night, Kaeya.
Kaeya: Is it that time already? I'm not sure I'm ready to say goodbye.
let's face it, these are death flags. no, kaeya is not going to perma die, but this might be what he has seen through the Auge der Verurteilung and why he's so reluctant to reach the ending of his story.
but in order to defy fate and become a 5 star you have to throw yourself into the embrace of the immernacht first 😈
18 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
suchawrathfullamb
such a wrathful little lamb
emilydb7
em the grem
sengli-vika
Collagemania
littlegirldangerous-blog
trị mụn bọc ở mũi
the-peddito-and-the-doise-show
The Peddito and Doise Show!