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moonlinos · 8 months

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Call my bluff, call you ‘babe’

♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Childhood friends to lovers, fluff

♡ CW: Implied smut, alcohol consumption. Twenty solid seconds of angst, but it doesn’t even really count. It’s just tooth-rotting fluff.

♡ Word count: 5.5k

♡ Synopsis: Minho has been your best friend since you two could barely form coherent sentences. He was there when your last baby tooth fell, he was there when you failed your high school exams, and he was there as you walked down the aisle.

♡ A/N: This was going to be just word-vomit fluff to make me cry, but I couldn’t control myself and before I knew it there were… so many words.

You were four years old when you met Minho. It was the first day of kindergarten, and you were assigned seats together. The entire day was spent with you chatting to every kid you could reach from your seat while Minho quietly sat painting and doodling by your side. You vaguely remember thinking he was odd and whining to your mom about how your seatmate was boring, and that was why he was the only kid in class you didn’t talk to. She smiled and told you maybe you should make an effort to talk to him. That same day, you racked your little brain for a reason why your seatmate might be so quiet and promptly decided that he was too shy to start a conversation himself. You then asked your mom if the fact that you didn’t talk to him might have made him sad, to which she hesitated, and that was enough to have your bottom lip wobbling.

You remember tears streaming down your cheeks as you frantically sobbed, inconsolable at the fact that your seatmate was sad and that it was partially because of you.

The next day, you asked if Minho would like to use your special glitter pens — you even told him you wouldn’t mind if he used your favorite colors. That was really all that was needed to plant the bud of friendship between you two.

Ever since that day, you two slowly became inseparable.

You attended the same elementary school after begging your parents, writing a very concise list of reasons why you two could not possibly be separated. Reasons such as the fact that Minho still didn’t know how to tie his shoelaces, so it would be dangerous for him to be alone in a new school. Or the fact that you were always losing your gloves, and Minho always carried an extra pair in his backpack just for you, so you would surely catch a cold if you didn’t have him beside you during winter.

All extremely valid reasons.

Minho began walking you home from school when you were both nine years old. He was often left alone due to his parents’ work schedules, which made him become the most street-smart kid in your class. You had to beg your mom for a week, but she ultimately caved in.

Your favorite thing to do on your way home was to stop randomly and doodle on the sidewalk with chalk, with Minho joining you in no time. You even had your favorite little sketching spot — right in front of a nice old lady’s flower shop, where you two would spend far too much time decorating her entrance pavement with flowers, rainbows, and smiley faces. She would later introduce herself to you, Ms. Kim, and would always thank you both with a flower of your choice. You always picked tulips, and Minho always picked daisies.

On one hazy winter day, you and Minho were eager to adorn the flower shop’s entrance with a new set of doodles since the ones you had done just yesterday got covered in snow. As you two did your best to dig through the piled-up snow with your gloved hands, you suddenly felt something hard slide down your throat. Your hands stilled, and you turned to look at Minho with wide eyes.

“What happened?” He asked. “Did you lose your glove in the snow this time?”

You shook your head frantically, careful not to swallow. “Teeth,” you simply said.

Minho looked at you like you were crazy, squinting his eyes as he studied your face. “What?”

You felt tears well up, and he immediately abandoned his mission of shuffling through the snow before pulling you into a big hug.

“Why are you crying? Don’t cry. I hate when you cry, I feel weird when you cry,” He said, but no tears left his worried eyes. Minho never cried, that was something you had learned a while back.

You, however, cried until Ms. Kim noticed you two from the window, cooing as she approached you two with a gentle smile. You tried your best to explain your predicament. Minho sat with you behind the wooden counter, holding your hand in his, the smell of flowers making everything feel less catastrophic than it did ten minutes earlier.

Ms. Kim explained that you had no reason to cry, as it was normal for kids to swallow their baby teeth. And you remember harshly shaking your head and explaining with a trembling voice that you hadn’t cried because of that. You had cried because that was your last baby tooth, which meant you were officially a grown-up. You didn’t want to be a grown-up. Minho wasn’t a grown-up yet, with his last baby tooth still holding on proudly in his gums. You didn’t want to be a grown-up all alone; it would be terrible and sad.

That afternoon, you two went home together in silence, your respective flowers clutched in your hands. Minho was never good with words. Sadness engulfed him because he couldn’t do enough to make his best friend smile again. What was the point of a best friend if they didn’t make you laugh when you were crying?

Minho walked into school the next day with a proud smile on his face before placing his last baby tooth on your desk. You eyed it curiously, brows furrowed.

“There, I took it off last night,” He simply said. “Now we’re gonna be grown-ups together.”

At eleven years old, your daily after-school video game appointments began.

You had just cut your hair short; a bob you thought looked cute on your favorite singer turned out to be cataclysmically unflattering on you. And, at eleven years old, it was earth-shattering and definitely the end of your life (despite what your mother told you).

You spent every second out in public with your hair hidden by a beanie, hoping it would distract people from your disastrous haircut.

Except it had the opposite effect.

One particular day at school, a boy came up to you simply to inform you that your head looked like a mushroom before running away, laughing with his friends. They were foolish words spoken by a foolish boy, but you were eleven. Once again, earth-shattering and the end of your life.

You avoided everyone the entire day — including Minho, whom you always talked to no matter your mood. You knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid him for much longer, seeing as he walked you home every day, so you simply prayed he wouldn’t notice your puffy eyes or that he at least hadn’t heard any of the other kids making unfunny jokes about your haircut.

After school, Minho sighed in feigned annoyance when you told him you had lost your gloves again before retrieving a pair from his backpack. Like a habit, you asked if he wanted to hang out at your house, although the answer was always unchanging.

“My mom’s baking a cake,” you told him. “We can play video games and then eat it together.”

Minho hummed in agreement, adjusting his backpack before grabbing your hand as you two began your daily walk to your house. It was something you always did, never walking anywhere without your hands clasped together. These past few months, however, this once ordinary gesture had begun making your heart beat faster. You didn’t understand why, and you would rather not think about it because every time you did, the words from your other friends would echo inside your head. Their stories about how they felt their hearts racing when their crush had hugged them or even looked their way, making you question if maybe…

But it couldn’t be. Minho was your best friend. How could he be your crush?

It was another one of those afternoons, your mom busily making you two sandwiches as you and Minho played New Super Mario Bros on your Wii under the blanket fort you always meticulously built. Minho had been acting weird all day — even weirder than you, who had to endure all the asinine jokes and hurtful words from your peers. As you completed the last level for the umpteenth time, saving Princess Peach, Minho all but threw his controller to the side. You turned to shoot him a questioning look, which went ignored as he rummaged through his backpack.

He retrieved a crumpled-up piece of paper, which he promptly gave to you.

You cocked your head, awaiting some sort of explanation, but Minho simply picked up his controller once more and hit play on the game.

Unfolding the paper, words greeted you in Minho’s messy handwriting.

YOUR HAIR LOOKS CUTE. STOP HIDING IT.

Your lips parted slightly, but before you could say anything to him, Minho reached out and snatched your beanie from your head. Your short hair and bangs cascaded onto your face, partially obscuring your view. But you could still make out his side profile, where a faint smile appeared on his lips.

After that, you two were silent for the rest of the day, eventually dozing off under the tent lulled by the sound of your mother’s hand mixer and Mario’s theme song. The sun eventually set outside the window, and you woke up to two plates of your mother’s cake waiting for you on the coffee table.

From that point on, your beanie was left forgotten inside your drawer.

You were fifteen when you realized that perhaps your feelings for Minho weren’t all that platonic after all.

It all started with a letter on Minho’s desk on a rainy Friday. October 25th, Minho’s birthday.

Minho’s quiet nature hadn’t changed one bit since you first sat beside him at four years old. He would rather die than start a conversation, rarely went out to the movies with your friend group and, most importantly, hated being the center of attention. That was why he told no one about his birthday since you two began high school this year. It was the subject of much debate among your little group of friends, with some bribing Minho with his favorite snacks or promising to do his assignments until college just for some sort of clue; a day, month, even the day of the week he was born.

But Minho never budged.

So, seeing a letter on his desk on the day of his birthday was odd, to say the least.

You arrived back to the classroom late after chatting to your friend from another class in the hallway, catching as Minho sat down with a puzzled look on his face and an open letter in his hands.

“What’s up?” You asked, sitting on the desk in front of him.

He looked up, thick glasses crooked from a dodgeball incident earlier that week. “Yumi found out it’s my birthday today,” He informed you, a bit too nonchalantly. “She organized a birthday party at her house tomorrow with our friends.”

You immediately took the letter, reading it and blanching at the words written in the girl’s pretty handwriting. She had found out Minho’s birthday by snooping around Facebook until she found his mother, who had a plethora of pictures of Minho on his previous birthdays. Not only that, the letter ended with a paragraph where she confessed her feelings to him — with all the clichés and dramatics only an adolescent crush could provide.

You still remember your first thoughts upon learning that information: Oh, Yumi. Of course a girl like her would do something like this.

You cringe at your words now, but at fifteen, you deemed no girl worthy of your best friend. Especially ‘girls like Yumi,’ who in your eyes all but threw herself at him. At the time, you thought you were looking out for the boy who was practically your brother. Now, you understand you were simply an insecure fifteen-year-old who allowed ugly, misogynistic thoughts to brew inside your mind out of fear of losing Minho. For your immature brain, every girl interested in Minho was an enemy because they could easily take him away from you.

And Minho had never reciprocated any girl’s feelings, always politely turning down the few confessions he had gotten during middle school. You were ready to berate Yumi, your brows immediately furrowing as your face contorted, but Minho beat you to it, speaking before you could utter a word.

“I know I should be mad, but isn’t it a little… cute?”

You couldn’t help but scoff, the sound escaping your lips like a burst of disbelief. You also couldn’t help how your hands began to tremble as your heart shot up to your throat.

“Cute?” You asked with the strongest voice you could muster. “You think her invading your privacy is cute?”

And Minho simply shrugged, tapping his fingers on his desk. “A little bit. I know you don’t really like her, but she’s part of our friend group,” He said, taking the letter from your shaky hands. “Plus, she’s always been nice to me, and she is cute.”

That was all you could physically bear to hear, excusing yourself from the conversation with the lie that your friend had called you from the classroom window before sprinting out into the hallway. As you continued walking, your palms grew clammy and your heart weighed heavily in your chest.

You felt tears well up in your eyes once you reached the stairs. Sitting on the steps, you cried into the cardigan of your ugly school uniform. You didn’t care that you would be scolded for skipping class; all you cared about was that your best friend was going to be taken from you.

After school, as you and Minho were about to exit the school gates — your hands tightly clasped together as they always were — Yumi appeared carrying a cake, the rest of your friends behind her as they all sang happy birthday.

Minho blew out the candles and made a wish. Everyone cheered as his best friend, Chan, shoved his face into the cake. Minho yelled at him, grumbling with glasses covered in white frosting, but ultimately laughing along. Yumi was quick to clean his face with a napkin, earning her a smile from Minho before he released your hand to gently squeeze her rosy cheeks.

You remained quiet, forcing out a smile and looking up at the sky every now and then so your tears wouldn’t fall.

All because Minho had let go of your hand.

Minho’s fifteenth birthday — that was the day you learned you could fool everyone else, but never yourself.

Your seventeenth summer was a drag.

Minho had just been broken up with a couple of months before, Yumi crying as she explained her parents wanted her to focus on her studies, and having a boyfriend was simply a distraction she couldn’t afford if she wanted to be a doctor someday. An unwilling participant in the entire situation, you sat awkwardly at the bus stop as she spoke.

You were ready to witness Minho cry for the first time in your life, maybe yell about how unfair her parents were being, but he simply pressed a kiss to her forehead just as your bus arrived.

Not much had changed when he began dating Yumi, with you learning that suppressing how you truly felt was worryingly easy. You still hung out with them, battling through their cuddles and kisses like a soldier on the front lines of a war. Never unscathed, but always strong. Nobody needed to know about how you cried into your mother’s arms almost every night before falling asleep.

The only change had been you and Minho’s daily gaming appointments. You two had since outgrown your video game phase, both now interested in diverging things that made it impossible for you to enjoy them together. You discovered your love for flowers went beyond doodling on the sidewalk in front of a flower shop, but Minho complained that growing flowers was too time-consuming, and he loved dancing, which you were far too uncoordinated and lazy to even try doing.

And so, you two settled for simply hanging out together at your house. Your room had easy access to the roof, which you two took full advantage of, setting up a permanent blanket fort where you would snuggle up with pillows and talk for hours after school.

That summer was no different, with Minho stretched out across the old mattress, watching the light pink sky slowly fade away as night set in while you two busied yourselves talking.

That was the day you finally gathered the courage to ask Minho about his breakup, desperate to understand why he had appeared so unfazed. After the one-year milestone of their relationship in February, you had begun to make peace with the fact that she would probably be around for a while.

Minho shrugged at your question, hands resting on his stomach while he gnawed on his bottom lip. He explained he was sure that he liked her, but it turned out he valued her as a friend much more than as a girlfriend.

You couldn’t help but scoff at the answer. You knew Minho better than you knew yourself at times, which was why you knew he was lying through his teeth.

“Why did you stay so long with her, then?” You questioned, the resentful lilt in your voice a bit too obvious. You cleared your throat before adding, “I mean, you surely didn’t act as just friends.”

“I guess I felt lonely before,” He explained. “I was selfish for staying with her, but I enjoyed having someone. Was especially nice after…” Minho trailed off, dismissively shaking his head, and you remember being close to throwing him off that roof as he kept being so damn enigmatic.

“After what?” You prodded, “Minho, I’m your best friend. What’s the point of us talking if you’re not gonna tell me the truth?”

He turned his head to look up at you, the darkening sky making his eyes gleam as if they held an entire galaxy of stars. You felt that familiar nervousness return.

“It was nice to not be so alone after so many years of pining after someone.”

You cocked your head to the side, and Minho had the gall to chuckle at your puzzled expression. You shook your head, mumbling to yourself that your conversation was pointless if he wouldn’t tell you the whole truth.

Lying next to him on the mattress with a sigh, you could feel the weight of Minho’s gaze on you. You couldn’t bring yourself to move.

You remember the moon was already high in the sky by the time one of you finally moved — Minho, who slowly inched his hand closer to yours before clasping it tightly in his. Despite your racing heart, you thought nothing of it. He was now single, so it wouldn’t be ludicrous to assume a habit you two had cultivated for many years would naturally return.

However, after some beats from your erratically racing heart, Minho’s fingers intertwined with yours. You had never done that before, always holding hands in a way that all but screamed platonic.

That night, with his thumb caressing your skin and his hand squeezing yours, Minho finally spoke the truth after so long.

“It’s you,” He said, tone nonchalant but voice audibly shaky. “Think I’ve been pining after you since I was nine and ripped my tooth out ‘cause I thought that’d make you stop being sad.”

You remember gasping quietly and his hand tightening around yours as the clock ticked and your silence remained. You remember finally mustering up the courage to turn to look at him and being met by an expression you had rarely seen on Minho’s face in the thirteen years you had known him — he was scared, wide eyes dancing around your face as if he looked for an answer in your features, his chapped lips parted slightly as if he was ready to backtrack the moment he saw any hint of doubt in your eyes.

You remember smiling at him and how his expression shifted into pure confusion. All it took was for him to finally have the nerve to hold your hand in the way he’d always wanted to, and for you to use his courage as a catalyst for your own. You remember how you closed the distance between you two and pressed your lips to his. You remember it feeling weird because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.

But you also remember it feeling right because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.

Your transition from being best friends to being in a relationship was easier than you had ever thought it would be — it was also slower than you could have ever imagined.

Minho never asked you out or confessed his feelings beyond what was said on the roof, and neither did you. It was a shared knowledge between you, a silent agreement that didn’t need words — at least for now. The little gestures and subtle changes left no doubt in your minds that you two were, in fact, no longer just friends — like how you began to always intertwine your fingers while holding hands, or how Minho would pull you onto his lap when you hung out with your friends, or how you would rest your head on his shoulder as he played with your hair during lunch break.

Your friends certainly had questions, the confusion written all over their faces easy to read like a book, but you both knew they also understood your relationship without you needing to make a big deal out of it.

You picked him up from dance class every weekend, sometimes arriving earlier just to catch a glimpse of him through the glass door, as Minho insisted he was too embarrassed to dance in front of you.

One day, thoroughly unprompted, he reached into his backpack as you two exited his dance academy and pulled out a yellow tulip. You had furrowed your brows at the sudden gesture, and Minho nonchalantly told you that planting your favorite flower was surprisingly easy. Since becoming teenagers, you had stopped going to Ms. Kim’s flower shop, and you had long forgotten about how you two used to have your own respective flowers back in the day.

It seemed Minho hadn’t forgotten.

That was one thing you had come to know about him only after you began dating. Although he seemed cold and distant on the outside — rarely communicating his feelings through words — Minho secretly kept a mental note of every little detail about the people he cared about, and he unfailingly found a way to communicate his feelings through actions. Such as promptly handing you a brand-new flower he had picked before you even had the chance to mourn your tulip as it began to wilt.

You, on the other hand, had always been the type of person to communicate through words; spoken, written, or read, which is how you began saving your best daisies from the small garden you created in your backyard and practicing your flower arrangement skills exclusively by making pretty bouquets you could gift to Minho (always with little notes hidden among the flowers).

Your once explicitly platonic roof dates also left no room for doubt, as making out under your usual tent became a hard-to-break habit. In fact, that was how your family found out about your relationship. You were eighteen, with graduation just around the corner, when your mother caught Minho kissing you as tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of having to be apart from him during college (although you both knew that would never be the case, as you always moved mountains simply to stay together).

Everything was slow-paced, and neither of you had any desire to rush anything. Once, Minho told you he had waited eight years to finally kiss you, and somehow, that anticipation was what had made it all the more special.

And so, your first proper date only happened six months after your first kiss, and your first fight only happened a year and a half into your relationship. Not to mention your first I love you, which had been a slip-up that happened only in your first year of college after a drunken night with Chan and Minho. Your head on his lap, your tulip nestled among his daisies in a pretty vase on the coffee table as Chan hummed along to some song that came from his phone. You felt as if your entire being was filled with pure gratitude at that moment, and the liquid courage that flowed through your veins only helped you mutter out how much you loved Minho.

He looked down at you, hands cupping your cheeks with a silly smile adorning his face, and simply answered, “Well, I love you more.”

Your carefree attitude toward your relationship was almost a contrast to the one you had with your friendship. You and Minho had met so young that you could never truly pinpoint when you had become such close friends. You always wondered if that was what led you two to be so easygoing with what most people rush into. Things happened when they were supposed to happen.

You remember one of Minho’s new friends, Changbin, asking something about your sex life at some party during freshman year, and you two nonchalantly answering that you didn’t really have one. Your friends’ shock was understandable, but you and Minho only laughed.

Things happened when they were supposed to happen.

It was Minho’s 21st birthday, when your flowers were no longer in bloom, but your love remained blossoming like it was mid-spring. He had, as always, vetoed any and every plan of a celebration suggested by your friends. He opted to stay in with you, cuddling under a blanket fort like you had been doing for so many years. Chan graciously offered to sleep at a friend’s dorm, leaving your small shared apartment just for you and Minho.

He hadn’t planned for anything to happen, and neither had you. You were simply lying together, watching the flickering of the candles you had set up around the coffee table, recounting the innumerable memories you shared when you suddenly felt the earnest, all-consuming need to have Minho as close as possible.

It was clumsy, both of you inexperienced and nervous. Your teeth crashed together and your hands gripped each other tightly, the realization of the intensity of your yearning becoming undeniable. At some point, the entire tent collapsed on top of you, and laughter filled the room for a brief moment before being replaced by your sighs and whispered moans.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was you and Minho.

Graduation day was a blur in your mind.

It had all started with Minho and Chan drunk at eleven a.m., offering you the awful-tasting omelet they had cooked in your cramped kitchen. They then went on to zone out for most of the ceremony after stumbling out of your apartment.

You approached Minho after he was done taking pictures and getting scolded by his family for being drunk on his graduation day, his mother giving you an apologetic look as you whisked him away.

“You’re stressed,” you pointed out.

“Yeah.”

“Me too,” you replied with a sigh, resting against a large tree far enough away from the hustle and bustle of recently graduated students and crying families. “So is Chan. Don’t think I’ve seen him this drunk since Jisung’s birthday party last year.”

Minho chuckled, shifting on his feet and toying with the fabric of his gown. You furrowed your brows; he only ever got fidgety when hiding something. You learned that for the first time when you were thirteen and he had to wait until your birthday to tell you he’d gotten you two tickets to see your favorite band, and again when he had to keep Chan’s then-girlfriend’s plans of asking him to move in together a secret.

“You’re not nervous ‘cause of graduation, are you?”

You remember the way he stilled almost immediately.

“We always tell each other the truth, right?” He asked.

You remember the way your whole world spun as he pulled out a small box from his pocket and how everything seemed to fade into a white mist that surrounded Minho like a spotlight as he proposed to you.

Your wedding was small — both because that was how you had wanted it to be and because of your lack of money for a proper party.

After graduating, Minho became a dance teacher at the academy he attended as a teen, teaching little kids who he said always reminded him of you two. You used the money your parents had saved for you to travel after college to buy the old flower shop that held so many memories from your childhood. Neither of you used your degrees, and neither of you made a lot of money, but you were overflowing with an infatuation for life and a love for each other so great that it made up for any silly inconvenience that dared to come up.

The ceremony was held at a local church — although neither of you was particularly religious, that was the cheapest place available. You opted to walk down the aisle together; hands clasped the way you used to do for many years while walking home from school. Minho held onto a daisy bouquet you made, while you held the single tulip he had picked out for you that day.

“I’m not good with words,” was how Minho began his vows, the glow of the fairy lights and candles adorning the church rendering his attempt at hiding his tears futile. That was the first time you had ever seen him cry in the twenty-one years you’d known him. “But I think that never mattered with you. You know me better than I know myself. Most times, I don’t even have to say a word, and you’ll still understand me. It’s been this way since we were four, and you understood why I was so quiet, and you still chose to be my friend. Thank you for understanding me, and thank you for allowing me to love you. Loving you is what I do best and look how lucky I am; I’ve been able to do it for my whole life.” He then shot you a grin, the back of his hand wiping away your tears. He ended his speech with a line that was so very Minho, thought up with sincerity but spoken primarily to make you smile. “You’ve always felt like home, and I can’t wait to feel that way until we’re both food for the worms to eat.”

You had never cried so much as you did on the day of your wedding — which was remarkable, seeing as you’d been a crier your whole life. You remember the irony of it all; Minho, who had never been good with words, telling you about his love with words that came from his heart and spilled from his lips without any rehearsal, while you were rendered speechless and too emotional to even attempt to form a coherent sentence.

Your wedding vow was a simple, choked-up, “Thank you for being my best friend, Minho.”

Minho carried you home from the church, with your cheeks flushing pink and his smile beaming as your friends made rice cascade around the two of you like snow. It turned out the boy who hated attention didn’t mind the spotlight so long as it meant showing off his love for you.

Your honeymoon was spent in your small house above your flower shop — which you named Daisy’s Tulips — where you cuddled under a blanket fort the entire day, only leaving the comfort of the pillows and fluffy covers well after midnight to adorn the sidewalk in front of your house in a brand new chalk drawing.

“Can you imagine if we never said anything?” Minho suddenly wondered aloud, his chuckle echoing through the quiet street. “We were both pretty good at hiding our feelings for so long.”

And you simply shook your head, painting a daisy with white chalk on the sidewalk. “Minho, I know you. You wouldn’t have let me keep pretending after finding out I liked you too.”

“Who says I would have found out?”

“You said it yourself,” you explained, “I know you better than you know yourself, and that’s reciprocal. You would’ve found out ‘cause I can never hide anything from you.”

And Minho smiled, taking your hand in his just as you were done with your drawing. Your gaze shifted toward him, and you admired the man he had become. From the shy little boy who sat beside you to the quiet teenager with thick glasses to the man he had grown into; you loved every version of Minho you had the privilege to meet throughout your life, and you were certain you would love every new version of him you came to know in the future as well.

“Of course you can’t,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I’m your best friend, aren’t I?” He asked with a grin, and you nodded. He then added, “Thank you for being my best friend.”

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist

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highvern · 8 months

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When I Kissed the Teacher

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, humor

Summary: Mr. Kim has a crush, to his students that much is clear. It's also clear that you like him too. What happens when a group of meddlesome ten year olds decide to play cupid for their two favorite teachers?

Warnings: science teacher mingyu, grammar teacher reader, meddling students, crushes, flirting, lots of candy and coffee

Length: ~5.2k

Note: it's here! thank you to @gyuwoncheol and @gyuswhore for beta reading and to my lovely @tomodachiii for fact checking my knowledge of primary school lol

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Turning from the white board, Mingyu faces the room full of weary children. Mondays are hard. Early mornings are hard. Learning the difference between reptiles and mammals first thing on Monday morning is downright torture. But it’s nothing a little bribery (read: candy) can't fix.

"Alright class, today we're learning about animals! Who remembers what a mammal is?"

Mingyu barely finishes his sentence before a sharp knock interrupts.

“Mr. Kim,” you seethe from the doorway.

Mingyu turns around immediately, eyes wide in fear at your tone. “Yes?”

“Can I speak with you? In the hallway?”

The class of ten year olds “ooooh” as their teacher trails after you like a kicked puppy. If they weren't awake before they sure are now. He shoots a silencing look back before dipping out the door where you wait, foot tapping impatiently.

“Would you like to explain where all my printer paper went?”

Mingyu tries to play dumb. “I don’t know?”

“Oh really?" You blink. "Because I found the box in the workroom and guess what was on the printer? More of your worksheets for your class!”

“How do you know they were for my class?”

You don’t answer, in favor of shoving the animal themed coloring sheets into his chest harshly.

“Listen, anyone could have…” He trails off under your withering glare.

“If you need paper, ask!”

Mingyu burns under the reprimand. “Oh, like you asked to use my paints last month?”

“That was an accident!" you argue, eyes wide. "And I replaced them.”

“Alright, then I’ll replace the paper I took.”

“Fine.”

With a curt nod, you turn to leave; unaware of the blushing cheeks and heart eyes following your retreating form. But the gaggle of elementary students waiting for Mingyu's return see them clear as day; their fits of shrill giggles and whispers falling on deaf ears as he shakes off the stars clouding his mind.

Mr. Kim, their goofy science teacher, has a crush. And like children are wont to do, they hatch a scheme to help him out.

—

“Alright. Do we remember the difference between fragments and sentences?”

The classroom ripples with tiny voices shouting “yes” with varying degrees of confidence. Their last quiz grades are proof they haven’t quite grasped the subject yet but that’s why you’re planning for an intensive review with them today.

“Awesome! So our warm up today should be a piece of cake. I’ll help with the first one so let's all look at the boa—”

A knock at the door cuts you off. Mingyu stands in the threshold, looking positively mischievous.

“Sorry to interrupt, Ms. y/l/n. But can I speak with you in the hall?”

Forcing a smile, you respond. “Certainly. Class, why don’t you all work with your desk partner on the worksheet and when I come back we’ll go over the answers?”

They break into groups, chattering about everything but the work you’ve assigned; most notably the way Mr. Kim beams as you follow him outside. However, once you’ve crossed beyond the border of the brightly decorated room, twenty pairs of ears strain to hear why Mr. Kim interrupted their morning lesson.

“What's this about?” you ask.

Mingyu smiles, eyes shifting to the floor. “Here's the paper I owed you.”

“You’re kidding.”

Three hefty boxes are stacked next to your door. It’s far more paper than Mingyu used for his color sheets, and more than you’d probably need for the rest of the semester.

“I thought you could use extra since you’re too stingy to share.”

“I’m not stingy!” You scoff.

Mingyu simply flashes another self-satisfied smile before heaving a box into his arms and carrying it into your classroom. He could certainly carry all three boxes at once; anytime there were desks or anything else remotely heavy to be moved, Mingyu did so with ease. But the kids don’t think anything of the way he so obviously drags out the torture.

The kids watch Mr. Kim weave through the maze of tables towards the back of the room.

“Lia, can you open the door for me please?”

The little girl jumps from her desk and bolts for the supply closet, braids bouncy with each step.

“In here okay?” Mingyu asks.

Blinking from your stupor, you turn back to your desk as you answer. “Yeah, it’s…whatever.”

Your class stopped their work to focus on the unfolding drama between their two favorite teachers. They don’t know why you can’t seem to stand their science teacher, and it’s anyone’s guess why Mr. Kim has decided to interrupt their grammar lesson for something so silly. But it’s clear that whenever you two meet an argument is clear to follow. And in the guidebook of elementary school, if you like a girl, you always argue with them.

So enthralled in your silent battle of wits with the peppy man, you miss the two girls plotting in the corner.

Hana turns to her friends with breakneck speed. “Did you see the way Mr. Kim smiled at her?”

“He’s so in love,” Arin sighs dreamily.

“And Miss y/l/n is blushing! We should help them.”

Their whispers are cut off when you clap. “Alright! Back to work!”

Mingyu lingers by the front until you forcibly shoo him away, huffing at the permanent smile stretched across his lips even when the door slams in his face.

“Meet at the tree during recess.”

The two girls nod and return to their worksheets.

A new week comes with new challenges. Today’s is the universe’s determination to make your life as difficult as possible.

Your alarm didn’t go off, your shoddy dryer left you with damp clothes, and your car battery decided a short strike would be a great way to start the freezing morning. There was barely time to wash your face with cold tap water let alone put on makeup or style your hair. To top it all off, the green lunchbox with leftovers from your favorite restaurant sits on the shelf of your fridge which means the crumbled granola bar at the bottom of your purse will finally see the light of day.

Flicking on the lights, you rush to prepare for the day. By the grace of god your first period is planning time so no students witness your near breakdown from the absolute shit storm of the morning. Not much is to be done since you already organized everything you needed Friday afternoon but the tense events of the day leave you feeling off. Not even a cup of coffee with the creamer you reserve for days like these helps the overwhelming unease rippling in the back of your throat.

Your allotted private time washes by and before you know it, a gaggle of students filters into your room, giddy on holiday spirit and sugar. The first five minutes of class are spent reminding them their butts belong in chairs at their own stations, that the warmup is for them to complete on their own, and if they aren’t feeling well enough to do classwork they need to go to the nurse.

Twenty minutes into the lesson and the worksheet for their quiz on Friday finally manages to capture their attention. A few students struggle but most are sailing through. Its the same material as last week just with a new puzzle for them to complete once they have all the correct answers.

“Alright, who can tell me what word fits for number six?” you ask.

The attentiveness you’ve sweated to cultivate all morning dissolves when a volunteer knocks to distribute candy-grams.

“Delivery!” a young woman sings as she enters, dressed in red from head to toe with heart shaped sunglasses and a sparkly headband. Her wicker basket flows with candy bars wrapped with shiny ribbon and cardstock penned with confessions.

The shrill symphony of oohs and ahhs as the kids receive pieces of candy raises the vein on your temple.

“And for Ms. y/l/n!” the young woman sing-songs, heart headband bouncing as she approaches your desk.

The cardstock reads one of the cheesy messages the school provides for the Valentine cards they sell as a yearly fundraiser.

‘I like you a choco-lot! - your secret admirer’

You throw it into a drawer in your desk, oblivious to the crestfallen faces of two little girls watching with rapt attention.

“I don’t think she likes chocolate,” Arin whispers.

“No. Remember during Halloween? She said her favorite candy is Twix. She gave Gabi an extra point on the spelling test when she brought in her halloween candy and gave them to her.”

“Well maybe she’s mad because it wasn’t a Twix!”

“Maybe. But Mr. Kim didn’t react to the note on his desk this morning either,” Hana huffs. “But he was late so maybe he didn’t see it.”

Your second attempt to put class back on track falls flat. Instead of group review, kids come up to your desk one by one to check their answers while you nurse your headache until the bell dismisses everyone to their next destination. Another crop of students flood the seats, emotions running high from who did and didn’t receive candy in their last class. Two students end up arguing about who knows what and then proceed to break into frustrated tears.

You bite your tongue to stop from doing the same and put on one of the movies you reserve for days like these.

When Mingyu walks into your room after school ends and all the kids are dismissed for pick up, you give him a look that sends him turning around and exiting the way he came without a word.

Tuesday brings a better attitude. Mostly because you get to take all of your class to the library for silent reading. But the homemade stirfry sitting in your lunch box in the teacher’s lounge helps too.

Your second period kids spread out through the room, some sprawled across the worn rugs on their bellies while others curl up in the much coveted bean bags; a few choose to hide between the imposing bookshelves, crowded on all sides by the smell of old paper.

With an overly sweetened latte sitting in one hand, and a new novel in the other, you perch at the long table near the librarian's desk to ‘supervise.’

“How did you manage to get a copy of The Gate? I couldn’t even get the pre-order before it sold out.” Elise, the librarian, asks.

You smile into your coffee cup before responding. “Eh, I know a guy.”

“You do? I thought you didn’t date?”

“I don’t.” You nod. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t have connections.”

“Well whoever your ‘connection’ is, send them my way when you're done with him.”

You pretend to ponder before answering, “I’ll think about it.”

Snapping your book shut, you rise to gather the kids to return back to class. It takes several minutes as a few refuse to join the line until their current chapter is finished and Kai pulls out the puppy dog eyes, begging to stay all day to finish his book.

You corral them out the door with promises of more reading time on Friday if they behave well the rest of the week. Some roll their eyes but most nod enthusiastically at the opportunity to skip on their weekly quiz.

Unlocking the door, you unpack your things and find a basket of Valentine’s on your desk to be passed out. Almost all the kids receive at least one, some find two or even three heart shaped sugar cookies on their desk. Your heart squeezes when some of the students decide to divy up their cookies and gift them to the students who didn’t receive a note.

The last cookie at the bottom of the basket has a note with your name on it and a message in the same swirly script as yesterday’s.

We go together like milk and cookies. - your secret admirer

As far as cheesy Valentine’s go, you’ve seen worse. But free snacks are free snacks and the confection tastes great dipped in your coffee.

Your fourth period class focuses on their worksheets, silently deciphering the reading and ticking of questions. You promised whatever group finished first with the most right answers gets a special Valentine treat; full sized candies and extra credit on Friday.

Whatever it takes to keep them focused while you work through grading everything for your other classes.

You don’t notice the man waiting at the door until one of your kids greet their science teacher; a ripple of tiny ‘Hi, Mr. Kim!’s following.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Mingyu announces from the door. “But, ugh, the volunteer accidentally gave me this.”

“Oh! Thanks Min—Mr. Kim.”

You take the can of orange soda from his hand and skim the note.

I have a ‘crush’ on you. - your secret admirer

None of the students can read the note from their seats but you and Mr. Kim look equally bashful.

“What are you guys working on? Mingyu asks, hoping to diffuse the tension.

A cacophony of voice race to explain their assignment. Mingyu pretends to understand, smiling at their enthusiasm and grabbing a worksheet for himself.

He plants himself in one of the tiny plastic chairs next to your desk meant for ten year olds rather than a grown man of his size. It’s comical the way his knees brush his chest and any small move across the slippery seat threatens to land him on the floor.

Reviewing the sheet, Mingyu announces, “Alright, how about if you guys finish your work before me, we can have a pizza party in my class on Friday?”

More screams bounce off the walls.

“You guys can’t finish if you’re talking to Mr. Kim,” you remind them.

The room descends into a cozy calm; the sound of pencils on paper, your keyboard clicks, and the soft jazz from the computer speakers blending together.

You don’t look up to grab the answer key from the corner of the desk, Mingyu huffing from his seat at being caught.

“No cheating,” you smirk under your breath.

“Creative strategy,” he argues.

Instead of answering you shake your head and continue to focus on your own tasks.

Ten minutes and twenty emails later, two groups of students rise and approach your desk at the same time.

“We finished first!”

“No, we did!”

“Guys,” you interrupt them. “I’ll grade them both and whoever has more right wins. Besides, Mr. Kim owes you a pizza party anyway.”

The entire class cheers at the news while Mingyu playfully pouts. Maybe if he hadn’t given up on his worksheet to snoop through the basket full of snacks on your bookshelf, he wouldn’t be eating his own words.

The second group of students to approach your desk ends up victorious. You mark down their candy orders to pick up on your weekly grocery shopping trip on Thursday night before sending them to back up their belongings so you can all head to the cafeteria.

“What’d you bring for lunch?” Mingyu asks as he walks with you to the teachers lounge to retrieve your lunch boxes.

“Pasta salad.”

“Wanna trade?”

“What’d you bring?” you ask, handing him the black grocery bag you know carries his lunch.

“Pasta salad.”

You roll your eyes and kick the fridge shut.

—

After lunch you have another free period. The printing room is empty so you take advantage and make enough copies for the rest of the week. Perhaps Mingyu wasn’t wrong to bring you three boxes of paper.

Lugging the stack in hand, you turn down that hall only to find a familiar face standing guard outside your classroom.

“Arin? Why are you in the hallway? You should be in class.”

“I was just…going to the bathroom!”

“Really? Because there's a bathroom right outside Mrs. Lee’s classroom if I remember correctly.”

“It was gross!”

Considering Mrs. Lee’s classroom sits on the main hallway and intersects with two other grades, it probably looked more akin to a battlefield than a restroom at this time of day.

“Okay…but hurry back. And I’m gonna let Mrs. Lee know what took you so long so she isn’t worried.”

You side step around her but she moves right into your path. And then again. And again.

“Arin, what are you doing?”

“Sorry, Ms. y/l/n. I don’t feel good. Can you walk me to the nurse?”

Crouching to her height, you rest the back of your hand against her forehead. Arin never admits she doesn’t feel well even when she’s tinged green and hacking up a lung. It’s the perfect admission to keep you from peering past the threshold of your classroom and blowing the entire operation.

Until a loud crash and high pitched scream breaks the silence of the hallway.

You jump back up.“What the—”

“Wait!” Arin shouts, throwing her arms and legs wide to block your path like a three foot tall ‘X’.

“Arin, what is going on?”

“Mr. Kim said animals make themselves bigger to be scarier,” Arin says, tiny face scowling.

“And why are you trying to scare me?”

Another bang echoes out the classroom forcing you to pick the little girl up by her armpits and carry her inside with you. She slips from your hold as you stare with a wide mouth at the scene. A desk is pulled up to the board allowing Hana to balance atop it as she scribbles across the chalkboard.

Wil you be my Valintin? - Mr. K

“Hana! What are you doing?”

“Arin!” Hana huffs indignantly.

Arin opens her mouth to respond but the look on your face silences both girls. You help Hana down from the desktop before crossing your arms in front of you and taking a deep breath.

“Sit. Now.”

They trudge to the seats next to your desk; heads hung low, tears brimming in their eyes. Neither has been on the receiving end of such a reprimand before; they’re usually your best behaved students.

You allow them to stew in silence as you right the two chairs Hana knocked over. She doesn’t look injured which is a relief but your nerves are shot from the perplexing situation. Hana and Arin can be troublemakers but they’ve never done anything like this before.

Once you're certain the urge to yell at them is quelled you approach your desk and take a seat. You watch them expectantly. Arin chances a glance up and swiftly looks back to her lap while Hana focuses on the picture at the edge of your desk, blinking away tears.

“Girls,” you sigh. “What were you doing in here?”

“Ms. y/l/n,” Arin blubbers.

Presenting the tissue box, you wait several moments while they both dab their eyes and blow their noses before speaking again.

“We just thought…” Hana starts, glancing at the other girl.

“Thought what?”

“Mr. Kim’s in love with you and we wanted to help!”

“I see.” You nod. “Did Mr. Kim tell you that?”

They look at each other before shaking their heads ‘no.’

Your temple throbs from the situation. A measured breath through your nose sends the girls into a frenzy.

“We can tell!”

“You’re perfect for eachother!”

“And did Mr. Kim ask you to sneak into my classroom while I wasn’t here?”

“No ma’am,” they mumble in unison.

It dawns on you that the two girls have been behind all the gifts you’ve received this week.“Are you two behind all the Valentine’s I’ve gotten?”

“We were just trying to help!” cries Arin.

Moving to crouch in front of them, you wait until they both look up at you.

“It’s very sweet what you were trying to do and I’m sorry I yelled at you. But you can’t sneak out of class. What if something happened and you got hurt climbing the table?”

“I’m sorry,.” Hana says.

“Me too.”

You pass them more tissues to wipe their noses.

“How about we get you two back to class?”

“But what about Mr. Kim?”

“Yeah! He needs to know how you feel.”

“That’s between Mr. Kim and I. Understand? Those are grown up things.”

The repulsion painting their faces forces you to bite back a snort. Instead you offer your hands, pinkies extended towards them both.

“How ‘bout this? I promise to talk to Mr. Kim if you two promise no more meddling. Okay?”

All three of you share a smile as you intertwine their pinkies with your own.

“Now,” you say whilst jumping to your feet. “You are supposed to be in Mrs. Lee’s class. And you are supposed to be at the library.”

Escorting them both back to where they belong, they can’t help but giggle when you pass Mr. Kim’s room and he waves. The question is clear on his face but you shrug your shoulders.

You’ll explain everything later.

You smile knowingly at the corner of the classroom where two little cupids sit as the volunteer brings you a lollipop with a note reading ‘I’m a sucker for you.’

Part of you feels guilty they pooled their own money together to supply you and the teacher next door with treats all week in an effort to play matchmaker. But another part can’t help but laugh. And when you get the chance to tell Mingyu what they’ve planned you’ll no doubt laugh harder.

But because the universe somehow knows you lied to your students the day prior you find your reckoning in the cafeteria.

It was Mingyu’s fault. Or at least that’s what you argue. You barely made it three steps inside the room before the large man bulldozes you; sending his lunch and your own down your fronts in a palette of greens and browns.

His eyes widen in horror as a slice of tomato peels off your shirt and flops to the floor. “I am so sorry!”

“Seriously?” you choke.

The entire school watches with baited breath. Students and teachers alike watch with abject horror as you skirt around the taller man and flee with shaking shoulders and your chin dipped into your chest. Mingyu gapes like a fish as you run by, frozen in place. As hundreds of eyes settle on him, he realizes they all saw how he drenched you in salad and coffee.

Mrs. Lee dismisses him with a nod, silently agreeing to watch his class so he can trapeze out to his car and find something suitable to wear.

—

Mingyu watches the game of kickball unfold across the field, keeping an eye on the rowdier students as they pick teams. But even from a distance he recognizes one face is notably absent.

He finds Kai slumped on a bench at the far corner of the playground using a stick to draw lines in the dirt at his feet.

“Hey, buddy. You feeling okay?” Mingyu asks.

Kai never misses a game of kickball. Even when his arm was in a cast at the beginning of the year, he insisted he only needed one good arm to play defense and neither to play offense. Kai’s mom simply laughed at Mingyu’s concerned email and said her son was exactly like his dad and there was no stopping him if he was set on something.

So to have the little curly haired boy isolated on the far edge of the field is serious cause for concern.

Kai looks up briefly at Mingyu’s approach before returning to his mud art. “Mr. Kim, have you ever liked someone?”

“Liked someone?” Mingyu drops onto the bench next to him.

“Like,” the little boy inhales trying to explain himself. “Like a girl?”

Mingyu snuffs out his chuckle at Kai’s innocent question. “Yeah, why do you ask? Do you like a girl?”

“I–My friend does!”

“Okay,” Mingyu nods.

“And he doesn’t know how to tell her.”

“Well that's tough.”

“How’d you tell the girl you liked?”

“Well,” Mingyu drops to a whisper. “Once upon a time, I had a crush on this girl. And she was the prettiest girl I ever saw. Smart and funny too.”

“Did she run fast?”

The question confuses Mingyu at first but then he remembers he’s talking to a ten year old and the rules of attraction hinge on who gets the swing the highest and jumps off.

“She ran really fast,” he nods. “And she made me so nervous I couldn’t talk to her. My palms got all sweaty and my face turned red.”

“That happens to m—I mean my friend!”

“And it feels like there's a bunch of frogs jumping around your stomach?”

“Yeah,” Kai nods. “So how’d you tell her?”

“Well one day, I finally decided to introduce myself. Walked right up to her, opened my mouth and…poof.”

“Poof?”

“Poof.” Mingyu hangs his head. “I forgot everything I was gonna say to her.”

“What happened after that?”

“She waited a few minutes and then said ‘okay, I’ll meet you at 6:30 for dinner.’”

“She knew you liked her?”

Mingyu nods gravely before imparting his most sage wisdom. “Girls are very smart, Kai.”

“So I should try and tell her I like her?”

“Your friend should at least try,” Mingyu shrugs.

Kai blushes, having been clearly caught. “But what if she doesn’t like him back?”

“That’s okay. It just wasn’t meant to be.”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim. You’re the best!”

“You’re welcome, buddy.” Mingyu gives him a fist bump before shooing him back towards his friends. “Now go play kickball, the boys need your help.”

Kai runs off but a new presence fills the vacant seat on the bench.

“I thought we agreed to keep our romantic life a secret at work.”

Mingyu smiles sheepishly before turning to look at you. “Oh, you heard that?”

“Yeah, I heard,” you smile. “They already think you have a crush on me.”

“Smart kids.” He says, enjoying the way the worn sage button up swallows your figure.

Mingyu loves when you wear his clothes, he told you this morning when you stole his favorite jacket. Which is why you both took almost twenty minutes to gain your composure after he spilled an entire tray of food on you.

Mingyu swears he didn’t do it on purpose. How could he have known you were coming through the door at that very moment? But he’d do it again if it meant seeing you in one of the spare shirts he keeps in the truck again. Even if it meant he’d also sustain minor coffee burns.

“They think I have a crush on you too.”

You watch the way he traces your collar bone, catching the twinkle of the diamond pendant resting at the hollow of your throat; his birthstone. It was the first piece of jewelry he bought you when you started dating almost a decade ago.

You hadn’t taken it off since the day he gave it to you with shaky hands and red ears.

“Do you?” He asks.

“Do I, what?”

“Have a crush on me?”

“Oh Gyu,” you coo at him. “I have the fattest crush on you.”

“Damn right you do.”

Sitting outside with an entire audience of other teachers and students doesn’t allow either of you to fall into the familiar comfort of adorning kisses or airtight hugs. But Mingyu’s pinky brushing yours in the ample space between your figures is enough for now.

Friday is Valentine’s day which means all the kids don red and pink outfits and prepare for a day of candy filled fun. You spent all morning helping the art teacher set up paint stations. Why she cashed in on the long owed favor with such a simple task was beyond you but the monotony is a nice change from the chaos you’ve experienced all week. When second period rolls around, you shuffle back to your classroom; welcomed by the line of students waiting outside your locked door.

“I swear! I saw Mr. Kim and Ms. y/l/n at the grocery store last night.”

“Hana, Ms. y/l/n said its grown up business. Maybe you just saw people that look like them,” Arin shrugs. “And I don’t wanna get in trouble again.”

“It had to be them!”

They quiet down as they walk past your figure, smiling like cherubs when you greet them.

Students file in one by one, shrill voices echoing from excitement. Most cheer about their pizza party with Mr. Kim later that afternoon, a few squeals about the set of Valentine’s their parents sent with them to handout.

Your ears catch a few other snippets of conversation as you wait for the stragglers to make it by.

“Oh my gosh those are so pretty!”

“Those look like the flowers my mommy likes!”

Curiosity gets the better of you, forcing you to step into the room and see what the kids are talking about.

An explosion of pink camellias resting on your desk. Huge blossoms with pale pink petals spill over the sides of the vase, slips of greenery sprinkled throughout. Approaching your desk, the floral aroma fills your nose. The blooms feel like soft velvet under the pad of your finger tracing the largest one in the center of the arrangement.

Who on earth?

As if on cue a mop of black hair peaks in from the hall. Mingyu eyes the bouquet and the pleased look on your face before allowing his own to break into his infamous smile.

“Just wanted to make sure they got here safe,” he calls.

You whip your head up, eyes wide and mouth open at the can of worms he just spilled.

“What?” Mingyu asks innocently. “Can’t a man buy his fiancee flowers?”

He disappears with a wink but his laughter at the chaos he’s stirred up can be heard miles away.

“MISS Y/L/N YOU’RE MARRIED?” Mark screams.

Another shrill voice answers, “Fiancee means they’re almost married, idiot!”

“You lied to us!” Arin and Hana chorus.

Dropping into your chair, you hide your burning face in your hands. Coincidentally it also hides your shy grin from the hoard of ten year olds jumping in their seats at the news.Mingyu is in so much trouble.

A few weeks before the new school year starts, a group of nearly eleven year olds crowd into the pews of the massive church at the center of town. Stained glass reflects patterns over the marble floors, casting them in a rainbow of colors.

Some sit on their hands to calm the adrenaline pumping through their tiny veins. Others rock back and forth in an effort to watch Mr. Kim strut down the aisle in a fancy looking suit.

But all of them gasp when you turn the corner.

You look like a real life princess in your wedding dress, floating towards their science teacher waiting at the altar with tears and a smile matching your own.

When you and Mr. Kim kiss, the girls squeal and the boys blush.

Several rows ahead sits a small group of older students, who’ve long graduated elementary school and are headed to college in a few days. They exchange satisfied smiles and pat themselves on the back for getting their favorite fourth grade teachers together all those years ago.

Maybe now your new classes won’t try playing Cupid like they do every year given Mr. Kim finally married their favorite teacher.

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gender-euphowrya · 2 years

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okay so my cousin's daughter is definitely on the spectrum and idk how to break it to them

#y'know how i said that the footage of me as a kid was Textbook autistic child #yeah She is exactly how i was then #her grandma my aunt showed us a video of her (shes like 4ish) doing a little dance show thingy at her school #and she was like. God it was exactly like the footage of me at my first judo activity #she was trying to participate but also she stood out #she had moments where she blatantly looked at and studied the moves of the other kids so she knew what to do #sometimes she just blanked and stood there holding her fingers #SHE FLAPPED #i'm not basing my hypothesis on just this video alone she has consistently displayed what i know to be autistic traits the times i saw her #see one time we visited and when it was time to leave her mom told her 'dis au revoir à la fenêtre'#so 'say goodbye from the window' But in french the word 'à' means both From and To #so she understood 'say goodbye to the window' and. said Goodbye Window !#WHICH WAS V AUTISTIC KID TAKING INSTRUCTIONS LITERALLY???#Other example. she got a birthday gift. her gramps said ''wow c'est la classe !''#which means ''how classy !'' but also literally means ''it's the class''#to which she replied No it's home. she'd just started school. she was saying it wasn't a class(room) but home.#again just exactly the kind of stuff i would fail to understand and take literally as a kid #she's ''gifted'' like i was gifted she's very early in learning milestones. she can form completely coherent sentences #when most kids her age were still on a noises and isolated words level #she's got a damn good vocabulary and grammar too like. both her parents are teachers so yk there's that but still #she's also not super fond of physical touch and needs routine #look i'm not saying no non-autistic child has any of those traits #but a lot of autistic children have all of those traits #and i know personally how hard it is to get a later diagnosis especially for AFAB people #and ive been through autistic burnout from lack of understanding of my condition + appropriate support #i really do not want her to potentially go through the same

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thinkinonsense · 17 days

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ok so i had a thought😏😏 dbf!logan takes ur virginity and from then on u guys hook up whenever u get a chance (all the time). one night he gets done dicking u DOWN and u say u love him and he’s all like “we can’t do this anymore kid” very ANGSTYYY

i love you, i'm sorry- dbf!logan howlett x fem!reader

part two *mdni

"i love you, logan."

four little words that would send your world crumbling before your feet. the older man lifts himself from in between your chest, both of you panting post orgasm. nights like this had become a bad habit for the both of you.

from the moment logan first slipped off your panties in this exact spot a year ago, you had been wanting to tell him how you really felt. you wanted to tell him how you craved his touch when he wasn't around, how you adored the way he took care of you and most importantly, how this didn't feel 'casual' to you anymore.

seconds turned into minutes of silence, desperately waiting for logan to say something; anything.

"lo, are you going to say some-"

"we can't see each other anymore, kid." he says, avoiding eye contact with you as he pulls out.

"what?"

this wasn't real. that's the only sentence that your brain could form as you watch him put his boxers back on. you laid there on his bed, naked, vulnerable, with his cum dripping out of you and he can't even look you in your fucking eyes.

"ya' heard me." logan says, putting a cigar in his mouth and tossing your dress on the bed next to you.

"what happened?" your voice was trembling on the verge of rage and heartbreak.

"i told you a year ago not to bring that 'love shit' in here."

a year ago when he took your virginity. he promised to be gentle and to care for you. guess that didn't extend past sex for him.

you scoff, pulling your sundress over your head. "you didn't say that when you said you love how tight i fit around you or when you said you love how well i know you. was any of that even true?"

logan ignored you as he lit his cigar and waited for you to leave. you stand up and walk over to him, touching his chin and turning to so he's facing you.

"look me in the eyes when you kick me out of your bed." you spit angrily at the man you adored endlessly.

all logan could see was your eyes full of tears and your red puffy lips, trying to keep yourself together. deep down, he knew he deserved all the shit in the world thrown at him for him for breaking your heart. you would never understand why he had to be so cruel but his intentions were never to hurt you like this. it killed him.

"find someone your own age to love, kid." logan says, twisting the knife.

"don't call me kid, logan!" you yell at him. "i'm not a fucking child!"

"then stop acting like one!" his voice boomed back at you, spurring on more tears.

who had he turned into? you couldn't recognize the man in front of you. this wasn't your logan.

"so, you're just going to let me leave like this?" you cry, glaring at him. "give up everything we have all because you're afraid of me loving you?"

you didn't expect an answer, he already shoved your hand away from his face, no longer wanting the image of your broken heart haunting him.

logan wanted to tell you everything, explain why he can't accept your love because it will put you at a greater risks, but logically, logan knows he has to let you go.

"in ten years, when your ass is still sitting drunk on one of my fathers bar stools and he shows you photos of me and a man who can appreciate me for more than sex, a man who can admit he loves me back, you'll remember this moment because this will be the last time you ever fucking see me." you tell him rather calmly as you collect your shoes and purse.

logan watches you do as he asks and leave. if he was a better man, he would have done it differently; but then again, if he was a better man, he never would've fooled around with a twenty-something year old.

the front door slams with a broken sob escaping your lips. from the bedroom, logan could hear your car engine starting and that's when he could allow himself to grieve the life he would've had.

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4doll · 2 years

Text

Dating Stu Macher Headcanons

sfw

❤︎︎ cuddle naps after school

❤︎︎ loves to watch you put on makeup (if you do) and with enough convincing he lets you put some on him. you’re sitting in his lap while you do your makeup routine on his face, after you’re done and he looks in the mirror he’s praises your work and keeps talking about how good he looks with makeup on. eventually letting you do it often

❤︎︎ so many horror movie dates, either to watch movies at home or watch the new horror movie in theaters and talk about it for hours while eating fast food. he’ll call up billy and beg him to come over. the rare times billy does give in, you all theorize and rant about the movie for hours eventually all falling asleep

❤︎︎ matching clothes. idc what you say this man would just beg to match clothes. same with pajamas. you both wear matching pajamas during horror movie date nights.

❤︎︎ also matching halloween costumes. he would go absolutely crazy over matching halloween costumes, looking for hours for perfect ones.

❤︎︎ loves when you would sit in his lap and just watch tv or read. he loves to feel your warmth and touch. so his hands are constantly on you, not in a prevy way but in a comforting way. like holding hands, hands on your waist or stomach, etc. he comforts him to know that you’re there with him.

︎❤︎︎ always eavesdrops in your conversations with your friends in person and on the phone. he loves to hear the gossip, you eventually notice his eavesdropping and just decide to let him in on all the gossip all the time. during when you’re tell him all the gossip his reactions are: *gasps loudly* *mouth drops* “what?!” *makes the most confused face* “you’re kidding?!”

❤︎︎ gets jealous super easy. causing him to mark you with hickeys, gifts he got you (ex: a necklace with his initials) and would always have his hands on you in public. hands on your waist, arm around your shoulder, hand holding, etc etc.

❤︎︎ getting high and then going on dates. first time he asked if you would do it or not you questioned why and his reasoning being it would be funny and fun. and it was. you both were at a park at night laughing at the most unfunniest thing ever. it was a fun experience so you both kept doing it time to time.

❤︎︎ he would show you songs that reminded him of you(which was a lot), so he decided to make a mix tape, and give it to you on your anniversary. so every anniversary just before he makes mixtapes of songs that remind him of you and your favorite songs.

︎❤︎︎ time to time. you, stu and billy get high and order lots of fast food and just talk. mostly about horror movies or gossip, or just laughing together about memories or just laughing at nothing.

nsfw

❤︎︎ getting high and it eventually leading to sex no matter where you both are. stu loves to have high sex with you because it feels so good to him, and every sensation is maxed out and feels euphoric. so he cums fast💀

❤︎︎ praises tf out of you and your body in and out of bed.

❤︎︎ making eye contact with him during sex turns him on a lot weirdly. especially when you’re too fucked out to even form a sentence and you make eye contact with him, the ruined makeup, tears from overstimulation, put it all together. cums on the spot

❤︎︎ whiny when he cums. begging for you and calling out your name in a whiny voice, begging for more.

❤︎︎ making out while fucking no matter what position >>> he loves that shit. he thinks making out is so romantic and doing that while fucking makes him giggly

❤︎︎ while you ride him he praises your body. verbally and physically. groping and leaving hickeys and kisses on your chest, neck, stomach. “God your body is perfect, how did I end up with someone so perfect?” He whispers into your skin while you moan out his name.

❤︎︎ he absolutely loves to do aftercare. whispering even more praises into your ear while he cleans you up, telling you how good you did and how beautiful you looked. he loves seeing your reaction and just loves making you feel good after sex.

taglist: @strawbearyyyyysblog @starboashee @gr4veyardg1rl @hoizerslvrr

a/n: sorry the nsfw headcanons are so sort and the sfw headcanons are longer. very touched starved rn and wanted more sfw, sorry abt that. also having major soft/fluff stu brainrot <3

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acid-ixx · 3 months

Note

I love your Batfam series! When I saw that you accepted fanart, I scrambled immediately to make a quick, rough WIP

I kinda like the visual idea of reader trying to study or sort a plan to figure out how to settle their debt while their phone won't stop ringing

Tried my best to make it as gender neutral as possible, threw in some reading glasses, and just stuck a few pens and pencils in their hair that they just tend to forget about

I'm not sure how you visualize their coloring, but I like to imagine they have brown hair and eyes

That despite being Bruce's biological kid, it doesn't match his and they feel like it's another thing that separates them from the family

— masterlist !

this is so... ong u guys are feeding me such good food !! i feel so honored to just see this 😭 !! the lighting, the expressions and the overall mood of this really solidifies the piece and i love every single thing about this, ur so talented frfr !! tysm for bestowing me the very honor i am blessed.

this would be an accurate representation of them trying to study for their finals whilst trying to block out the endless ringing from their (most definitely) hacked phone— it gives them an excuse to leave gotham even further, hell even dropping off from college because they'd rather stay up by cramming countless of information into their mind than hearing that dreaded ringtone one more time.

and no, they can't even fucking mute it because babs and tim had already hacked through your phone's system! not even burner phones are safe from them. so yeah... they're definitely bound to throw their phone across the room.

the reader can be interpreted in any way or form and i like how you and @/luffyadolover settled on giving them baggy clothes and oversized jackets ngl !

and i love your ending sentence because this is actually factual from the canon lore of my series! you see, you sport more of your mother's physical traits than that of bruce's, which further sets you apart from, you know, finding at least a semblance of similarity you share with him. and that only worsens the bitterness that resides in your heart once you see damian, who's almost like a picture perfect representation of bruce.

but it doesn't take away the fact that your mother's beauty, unlike your father's rigid edges or his stoic yet charming expression, settles more into the ethereal zone, she could've been a model in another life, hence why she was oh-so successful in pocketing the money of many rich folks.

#🍨... yael's talking #🧁... yael's misc.#series: again & again #a&a: fanart #yandere dc #yandere batfam #yandere #yandere x reader

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tinyarsonist · 4 months

Text

Volume: Down

"If you don't keep it down, the kids will hear you."

Summary: You and your group finally debut! After a heart breaking accident, leaving you feeling less than you've ever felt Chan shows a side to you that leaves you wanting more.

Rating: M, TW under cut

Pairing: BC x Reader, FWB -> friends -> lovers

Italics are in Korean. Bold is in Spanish. Rest in English.

Volume Series: Part One | Part Two | ?

MDNI, 18+ Only

TW: idol!Chan, IdolTrainee!Y/N(fem!), No use of 'Y/N', slight angst, mentions of drinks, piv, unprotected sex (wrap it up), smut in general, dirty talk, cunnilingus, swearing, mentions of masturbation, semi-public sex, fellatio, insemination, PleasureDom!Chan, let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 13k

Est Reading Time: 40min

“Always so good.”

Chan groaned as he kissed your inner thigh. His hands held you nice and steady for him as his tongue glided over your core. Chan had finished just moments earlier, gracing your skin with his release. But, when he saw on your face that you didn’t come, he wasted no time in cleansing his palate for dessert. Licking up his remains before traveling down south, you tried telling him that it was fine. That you were just distracted but he didn’t let you finish your sentence; “Well, then let me help you relax.”

Your grip tightened on the sheets as you squirmed underneath him. Every time he pulled just slightly away; your hips jutted up to follow him. Craving any form of friction they could get.

It didn’t matter how often the two of you would meet up. Your body responded to every touch he could give. Chan made it his job every time to make sure your mind was just as focused as your body was. And it--he--never disappointed.

You weren’t thinking as your hand reached out slightly towards his black curls. As if he could feel your hesitation, he nipped around your bikini area. “Go ahead, baby. Use me.”

It didn’t take long for you to finish once your hand met the back of his head and did exactly as you were told. Chan had to hold in his smile as you rode out your high, still grinding against his tongue despite all the shaking in your thighs. Ever the gentleman he was, Chan kept you propped up until you finally cooled down. He wiped your essence off his face with the back of his hand. That famous smirk of his never leaving as he crawled next to you in bed and pulled the sheets over the two of you.

You and Chan had this newfound rhythm when it came to your little “rendezvous,” as he liked to call them. Sneaking in and out of his dorm every so often for a quickie followed by some cuddling at the end. You usually slinked out of his arms once his soft snores filled the room, leaving him with that empty feeling in the morning when his alarm went off. Ever since that unfortunate incident with Felix in the kitchen, you kept the shenanigans confined in his room as an unspoken rule. And due to his insomniac schedule, it was easy not bumping into the other members as they're usually already fast asleep. Speaking of sleep--

“You look like you're about to knock out,” you laughed as his arms wrapped around your waist and held you close to his chest.

“Don't tease me,” he grumbled as he squished his face on the top of your head. “Had to give it my all, okay?”

“Okay, okay.” You chuckled and stretched a bit in his hold. You could feel your body shutting down and knew you should start heading out. You had an early day, with training for your debut schedule starting. It was exciting, but definitely nerve-racking. Your company did not tell you when or where your group would make your debut, just that you should be prepared for it. Exciting. Not exactly helpful, but exciting nonetheless! “I should get going soon.”

Chan heard your words and instantly groaned. He just got you, couldn't he have you for just a little while longer? It felt like most nights without you in his bed were even harder to sleep despite you never being there in the morning. “Okay,” he sighed and pulled back a bit to look down at you. Already planning when he can get you back in these sheets. “You free for next Friday?”

“Can't,” You shook your head. “My schedule is crazy this week with practice, I'll barely be getting enough sleep as is. The Tuesday after?”

“Flying out to Paris for a charity event with the kids on Thursday. Probably will stay a week and a half after that…”

Silence clung between the two of you like his duvet. “So…” you bit your lip. “It'll be almost a month then until either of us are free?”

His eyes locked on yours. The grip on your waist tightened a bit as the realization settled over the both of you—a whole month. Chan does not even think it has been more than 4 days without seeing each other ever since this nonverbal agreement started. “Yea…”

Without a word being said the two of you locked onto one another. Pulling and grabbing at each other like one measly month would undo it all. Trying to satiate your hunger in each other until the next time finally rolled around.

Screw it. You'll just sleep during rehearsal break.

“Shit!” You huff in frustration as you slump to the training room floor. Your group has been practicing non-stop for the debut. Recently getting word that there was a time slot at Inkigayo with your name on it, your team was pushing every fiber of their being into getting this performance right. All of your team's hard work was paying off and showing. Why else would your company invest in such a big debut? Even the meat suits in tuxes could see the team’s worth. You couldn’t have been prouder of your girls.

If only you weren’t the one holding them back.

No matter how much you practiced, you couldn’t stick that tumble during the bridge. Your footing kept slipping as you tried to get back up. It wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t perfect. One wrong weight shift and you could twist your ankle in the worst way possible. You could already feel the strain on the backside of your tendon.

“Let's take a five,” your youngest waved off the other two girls to grab some snacks before taking a seat next to you. During your time together, the two of you became extremely close and she naturally took the role as your ‘second.’ Becoming the person, you knew you could lean on when things got tough. You were made, and trained, to support your girls, but her? She volunteered to support you. “You okay?”

You nod your head and stretch your foot to help relieve some tension on your ankle. She watches you as you try to brush off her question. “You seem distracted... More tense than usual.”

For some frustrating reason, your body was refusing to release despite your favorite toys coming out of their hiatus to fill in the time without Chan. She would be tense too if she couldn’t orgasm for 2 weeks straight and had another 2 weeks to go.

“I’m fine,” you smile at her. But that little grin of yours didn’t fool her. She gave you a look before leaning her head on your shoulder. Giving some comfort in the only way she knew how. You smile as you lean your head on hers.

“Is it a boy?” She said quietly after some time causing you to stiffen a bit. The rest of the group knew that you and Chan had met during the interview. However, they knew nothing else of that night. Even though it was eating you up on the inside.

If word got out that a soon-to-be-debutee and one of the world’s leading K-pop artist were seeing each other, your group’s image would be ruined. Even if the two of you weren’t together in that way and just used one another to forget the stress of your jobs for the night. That was the downfall to the marketing of the industry. A horrible negative to have the world hear your music—your love life was never your own.

“No,” you fibbed. The younger lifted her head slightly to look at you, not fully believing in your rebuttal, but deciding not to pry any further. The two others returned with a bounty of snacks to last a lifetime. The four of you giggled and chatted as the food was passed around.

“Speech! Speech!” your youngest smiled at you as she held up her soda can in a make-shift toast. Everyone else followed suit. Comradery spreading amongst the four of you. In one week, everything you worked for will be known. Spreading like a wildfire, your music will finally reach those willing to hear. The long years of being broken down will be worth it. The rise you’ve been so desperately craving is finally coming your way.

“Soon, everyone will know our name!”

The dance studio erupted in cheers and laughter. You smile as you look at your three girls, pride racking through you like never before.

Look out world. Ready or not; here you come.

Chan woke up from his bed as he smelled the freshly cooked bacon wafting into his room. A grin spreading from ear to ear as you pushed open the door with your hip, a bed tray filled with homemade cooking spread beautifully was placed across his lap. “Good morning,” you smiled at him as he sat up in bed. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” Chan placed the breakfast off his lap and next to him on the bed. The food smelled delicious, but he had something else in mind for his first meal of the day. Before you could even question it, Chan pulled his duvet off from himself and pulled you onto him instead. Your giggles filled his room as one of his hands found the back of your head, pulling you in to plant wet kisses along your neck. His lips then interlock with yours. Bodies molding into one as the sun’s light filtered through his curtains. Finally pulling away, Chan smiled up at you as his hand brushed some falling strands of hair behind your ear.

Seeing you like this, above him and smiling, no thoughts of his day ahead. Just you.

Only you.

Chan’s heart dropped when he finally woke up. It's been 2 weeks since he last saw you. Even in his dreams, he was flooded with visions of you.

Groaning, he turned his alarm off. The back of his head hit his hotel pillow again as he tried to go back to his slumber. Trying anything he could to continue the domestic scene his subconscious created for him. Trying being the keyword. Within a moment of peace, his hotel room door was barged open. Changbin and Jisung happily entered the room, knowing that waking up a sleepy Chan might result in a pillow or two thrown at them. So, as they rounded the hallway corner, they held up a bag of food, and some drinks, as an offering. Hoping to appease the groggy wolf.

“Everything bagel with harvest cream cheese?” Chan glared at them. As they both nodded, Chan sighed and gestured for them to come in. Jisung happily plopped on the bed next to Chan as Changbin laid out the food for the 3 of them.

“Stayed up late?” Changbin asked as he pulled up a chair next to the bed. Chan just nodded, still trying his best to wake up.

Jisung took a massive bite of his bagel, tilting his head as he asked a follow up question. His cheeks full, giving his staple chipmunk-pout; “You okay? You’ve been sleeping less and less these past couple of days.”

“I’m fine,” Chan took a sip of his smoothie. He was trying his best to deal with his insomnia, but it’s doubled ever since their flight into Paris. Most of his nights were spent working on some new tracks, trying to keep his mind distracted. It didn’t help that every waking moment flashes of your rendezvous nights kept playing at the worst timing possible. During dance rehearsal, staff meetings, while on the way to a photoshoot; his body would feel hot every time his brain would remind him of the way your lips would wrap around him. “It's just jet lag is all...”

Changbin and Jisung shared a knowing look. It was a look only life-long friends could partake. A look that knew Chan was bluffing. “Well,” Changbin drew out the word. “we got some good news and bad news for you.”

“Bad news;” Jisung wrapped his arm around Chan’s shoulder before Chan could open his mouth. Knowing he would just complain even more about not getting any sleep. “we leave tonight. Ah, ah—no no don’t you dare!”

Jisung couldn’t contain his laughter as Chan groaned and pulled the duvet back over his head. This was the last thing Chan wanted to hear; just as his sleep schedule was somewhat getting back to normal, he gets to sit in a plane and travel back home. Another recipe for more jetlag. What great fun. Jisung tried to unravel Chan from the cocoon he created, but to no avail.

Changbin watched with a side smirk as Jisung tried his best to wrestle Chan out of bed. “The good news;” Changbin leaned against the chair with his arm crossed. “we were able to get a time slot at Inkigayo later this week.”

“I heard a certain new group would be debuting that same day.”

Chan peeked from under his covers. You would be there?

Of course, the other members knew of you. Poor Felix had to trauma dump to someone after what he witnessed the morning after your first night together. Chan had suffered tremendous teasing for weeks before they all finally cooled down. But, he knew that despite the hell they were putting him through, they would never let word get out about anything.

It would be nice to see you after these past couple of weeks. To root for you on your big day...

“When do we leave?”

Today was the day.

Everything was on the line. You could barely sit in your seat as your stylist finished up on your hair. Your girls were essentially bouncing around the dressing area; adrenaline coursing through them. “Hey,” you laughed as you watched them jump on the couches from the vanity mirror to chase one another. “Save the energy for the stage, ladies.”

“Yes, all mighty leader,” your youngest giggled as she bounded over to you as your stylist left to clean up her equipment. The rest of the girls followed suit, leaning onto one another to squeeze into the mirror’s frame. You placed your arms around them as much as you could, squeezing them in even closer. Giggles filling your ears as you looked at your team's reflection; trying to etch the image in your mind forever. “Hey,” your youngest looked down at your outfit. Her eyebrows scrunched up together as she pinched the fabric around your shoulder. “This looks like its fraying a bit.”

Viewing the fabric through the mirror, you could see the garment starting to undo itself. Muttering a small curse, you looked around. Your stylist had already left. Grabbing a safety pin, you tethered the fraction of the fabric together before exiting out of the dressing room. This was no big deal, you had to keep reminding yourself as your anxiety started to rise. All you had to do was find your stylist so they could sew it back up before your time slot.

Everything will be fine. There was nothing to worry about. Everything will go according to--

You didn’t have time to squeal when you felt a hand pull you sideways as you were walking down the hall and into a supply closet. Your back pushed against the wall adjacent to the door. A strong hand covering your mouth as the other found its place on your hip. A fluttery feeling in your gut as your eyes adjusted to the dim closet and focused in on the face dawning that dorky grin at you.

“mmphan?”

His grin never left his face as he removed the hand from your mouth to the back of your head; “Missed me?”

Your lips found Chan’s in a frenzy. A fast clash of flesh as every second the kiss was deepened. His hand tangling with your hair and pulling you flush against him. A small groan leaving his lips as your arms snaked around his neck and tugged at his roots. As you pulled away for a breath you couldn’t help but tease; “A little.”

Chan gave out a breathy laugh as the two of you clung onto one another. His span of Spanish was fairly low, but loved the way you always let your actions show him exactly what you meant.

His mind wandered about making his dream a reality and littering your neck with his mouth but knew better than to mark you up before your big break. No matter how much he wanted to. Just seeing you here, in the flesh, was more than enough for him. So, he let his hands wander, taking perch right under your shirt just to feel you. Every touch sent warmth through you as you unconsciously arched yourself closer to Chan. A slow rhythm between the two of you grinding on one another formed. Eager to feel anything after the long time apart.

“What’s this for?” Chan played with the safety pin on your shoulder. Never stopping his other hand from feeling your curves, now sneaking towards your back to press you even closer. As if this was all but another dream he was going to wake up from.

“Strap is coming loose,” you couldn’t help but lean in close to whisper in his ear. Shivers running through him as your teeth lightly grazed his lobe. Something was taking over you, something that you couldn’t explain. It could be from the long weeks of not seeing him, or the stress of having to perform soon. “Can’t have a nip slip on today of all days.”

Chan’s hand went from the safety pin to your ass. Kneading it softly as he guided you to raise your leg so he could press his clothed bulge on your core. The pressure making your head lean back on the wall, sighing from the contact. “I don’t know,” Chan smirked as he placed small kisses on your shoulder. “I wouldn’t mind seeing that.”

“Dirty boy”

That was a word Chan knew well. It somehow became his nickname after every rendezvous night. It was almost a Pavlovian response as he felt his boxer space start to constrict as he grew. It took everything in him to pause for a second. You were breathing heavily, eyes half lidded as you gazed up at him. Your smile sending butterflies throughout his body. “Maybe,” Chan bit his lower lip, “you can show just me? Hmm, later tonight?”

You didn’t mean to nod your head as quickly as you did. Your enthusiasm pulled a chuckle out of Chan as he placed a soft kiss against your lips before taking a step back so you could fix yourself. "Break a leg,” Chan smiled as you fixed your hair and went towards the door. “We’ll be rooting for you.”

As you were about to say your thanks, the closet door swung open. Chan pressed himself as flush as he could against the wall. The door blocking your stylist’s view of him. “Where have you been?” She scolded as you just stood there rigidly, trying your best to not cast your gaze at Chan who was doing his best to blend in with the drywall. “That little beast of a girl said you were looking for me—what are you doing in here?”

As she tried to peer into the closet, your hand flew to the side of the door to hold it in place. Blocking her view of Chan. “Nothing! Just—trying to see if there was a sewing kit since I got lost and couldn’t find you.”

She looked like she didn’t believe you, but she, and you, were on a timeline so she really couldn’t care less. Huffing, she grabbed your wrist and started guiding you back down the hall towards your dressing area. Chan had to contain his laughter as you casted him a terrified look before stepping out with the slightly-horrifying-older woman.

“Where did you run off to?” Minho grinned as Chan reentered their private dressing room. Everyone was lounging around on the couch as the group waited for their time slot. And these boys weren’t made for sitting still. So of course, they turned to teasing Chan as soon as he stepped in. Lucky him.

Taking a quick look around the room and confirming there were no cameras amongst the group, Chan casted a glare at Minho; “Shut up.”

“Or what?”

“Minho,” Hyunjin laughed from his seat, “don’t get him mad. Please. You’ll get him cranky.”

Minho rolled his eyes and leaned back on the couch; “He’s been cranky this past month. What difference will it make?”

“But you don’t have to share a wall with him when he decides to take that anger out on--”

“Hey!” Chan laughed and threw a pillow at Hyunjin to cut him off. Jisung, who was just starting to rest his eyes before their performance, shot up and covered Jeongin’s ears with his hands who innocently asked; “Taking it out on what??”

Changbin was a giggling mess as Chan bounded over to Hyunjin to playfully wrestle him on the couch. Once they settled down, Changbin commented, “Seriously, have you considered sound proofing?”

Chan groaned as he covered his face in his hands from embarrassment. The rest of the members laughing and poking fun at him wherever they could. The only pause of the teasing was when Felix shushed everyone and pointed at the TV. Your group had been announced and was walking the stage. The team settled down on the couch, Felix turned up the volume as they watched you interact with the crowd. A sensation of warmth mixed with a little pride filled him as you worked the crowd into getting excited, even though a vast majority of them didn’t even know your name. Laughing as the youngest in your group was behind you mocking you, causing you to send a glare her way. The room erupting in a chuckle as the two of you feigned a fight as the staff was setting the last of the stage up.

“She’s spunky,” Seungmin chuckled from his seat on the couch.

As you and your team got on your marks, music played. A beat that brought the room to sway a bit to in their seats. The choreography started, as did your time to shine, and Chan was completely immersed in the performance. The way you sang, your hips swinging to the music until your next verse, you flashing your beautiful eyes directly into the camera. Christopher knew it was for the audience at home once everything was edited, yet somehow it felt that it was all for him.

The bridge came on, a cute little dance to showcase each member and bringing it in together for a cohesive formation. Before the chorus started up again, the team tumbled on the floor before popping right back up. You did as well, and to the naked eye everything seemed to be going along perfectly. But in the room, everyone leaned a bit forward as you came back up. It was almost instant, the flash of pure pain across your face, before you went back into work mode and continued on. A look of pain that everyone in the dressing room knew a little all too well.

The song ended and you waved. Your youngest immediately finding you to hold you by your waist and help guide you down the stage before the audience could catch on.

“Do you think she’s--”, Felix turned to look at Chan, but he was already gone. “--okay?”

‘Stupid, stupid, stupid!’ that little voice in your head rang as your manager and team helped you to the room. Your ankle was starting to swell and turn purple with every step. The tumble you had practiced on for so long, still proved to be too much for your body. Everyone suggested leaving it out, but you insisted that it made the choreography even more amazing, and part of you wanted to prove that your team – you – could do it. You didn’t want to hold them down.

Chan stood for a moment at the door frame of your waiting room. The crew of Inkigayo, upgraded your team to a private area after you hobbled off stage for some peace. You were on the couch, hands covering your face as you let quiet tears fall. Feeling overwhelmed with the adrenaline of the performance and having to hide your pain--it was all too much. The rest of your group decided to give you some space, seeing that despite their attempts to cheer you up they were doing no good. He gave you a moment to brush the tears aside and notice him.

“Chan,” you sniffled and blinked away any water that was pooling at your eyes. “If you’re here to tell me how ‘great’ I did--I don’t want to hear it.”

“Okay,” Chan leaned off the door frame and made his way over to you. Your usual smile was replaced with a frown as you watched him close the distance between the two of you. Irritation was overtaking you from all the coddling from your teammates and management. Telling you that you did great, despite the slip-up and injury. That you kept your composure the entire time and no one in the audience could tell. That the debut was a hit! All those compliments fell on deaf ears--your own thoughts were too loud and massive to even take note of what everyone else was saying. Only focusing on how you screwed it up. You were supposed to be the leader. And the first time to show the world what your team was made of--you were the one to fuck it all up.

“Christopher,” you growl. “I mean it. I’ve had enough pity for a lifetime…”

“I know.”

You watched in silence as he knelt on the floor next to you to slip off your shoe on your injured leg. Holding it steady, he pulled out a compression wrap from his pocket and started to gently dress your ankle. “I always keep one on hand,” he said quietly as if he was scared to spook you. “Had a nasty slip back in my early days, learned to always keep a small first aid kit lying around.”

Chan made the last wrap around your ankle, making sure the elastic was nice and snug to give you any support you needed. Grabbing a pillow from the armchair next to him, he set it next to you and guided you to lay your injured foot on it. “Keep this elevated.”

You sniffled a bit as he grabbed some tissues on the coffee table and dabbed around your cheeks, cleaning up any make-up smudged from your tears. His eyes were focused on wiping away any evidence of your fears. But you? You couldn’t keep your eyes off him.

The way he took his time caring for you made you feel something you hadn’t felt with Chan before. Warm; a weird bubbly sensation in your gut that made everything twist and turn. It was different from all the times spent with Chan during your nights together. It was a deeper connection. One that scared you, but you didn’t want to lose the feeling of either.

“I have to go,” Chan put the tissues aside and stared up at you. He cupped your cheek, his thumb running softly against your skin. He didn’t want to go. It’s been so long since he’s last seen you, not counting the supply closet, and seeing you down like this made his heart hurt. He wanted nothing more than to hold you and chase those fears away. Chan wasn’t a stranger to those inner thoughts; that self-doubt that clouded every fiber of your own being. But his time slot was coming up soon. “You’ll be okay?”

“Yea…”

Chan stood up and made his way back to the door. “Chan?” You called out. When the two of you locked eyes, you bit your lower lip. It almost broke you to show him, or anyone, your most vulnerable state. It was different than when the two of you were in the sheets. This was somehow more personal. More intimate.

“Thank you.”

“Are you sure you don’t need anything?” Your youngest looked down at you, concern etched in her face. The team was invited to film an interview at Lotte World, and though your injury was manageable, your manager was concerned that being on your feet for a long period of time would just worsen your condition. The rest of the group was already loaded into the van waiting outside, but your youngest kept leaving the dorm only to return to check in on you. Like a little lost puppy who only wanted to bring comfort. You couldn’t help the side grin that came across your face as you pinched her cheek, causing her to wince a bit in discomfort.

“For the fifth time—I'm fine,” You scolded her lightly as you released her cheek. She pouted slightly and tried to rub the redness away. Nodding your head towards the door; “Now get out of here, you’re keeping everyone waiting. You’re going to be late.”

“Fine, fine!” She rolled her eyes at you as she headed towards the door. Stopping just briefly to lean dramatically at the hallways corner to give your big doe eyes. “I get it—you just hate me.”

Squeals of laughter flew from her as you chucked a pillow her way, finally jogging to head out. Sighing in relief as you heard the door close behind her. You settled in on the couch, keeping your foot on a pillow to rest it as you mindlessly scrolled through your phone. Content filling you as silence, finally, filled the dorm. As much as you love them, living with three lively girls was overwhelming from time to time.

Resting your head on the couch, you let the peaceful lull wash over you. For about thirty seconds.

“For God’s sake,” you huffed as you got up from your place. The light knocking on your door making you irritated. Swinging the door open your put your best reprimanding face on to chastise your youngest. “What now? Did you lock yourself out this ti--”

Chan stood there wide eyed as he became the target of your annoyance. He gave a meek smile as he held up some take-away as a peace offering. You paused as the two of you stared at one another for what seemed like eternity. That warm bubbly feeling making its reappearance as he stood there awkwardly; “So, um—can I come in?”

“Y-yea, sorry.” You shook yourself out of it as you stepped to the side and gestured him in. He took off his coat and laid it on the kitchen island as he started to lay out the takeaway. You slowly stepped towards him as he essentially made himself at home.

“You guys have a nice place,” he said nonchalantly as he busied himself. He felt confident when he came up with the idea of surprising you but seeing you in person made his conviction rattle just a bit. It’s been a week since he’s last seen you after your trip on stage, and despite his attempts to reach out--you remained silent. “A lot cleaner than when our agency piled all eight of us together.”

“Chan--”

“You have any plates?” He walked over to the cupboards in his search. Searching high and low for some bowls.

“Chan--”

“Seriously, how many mugs do you guys need?” He grumbled to himself as he opened the second cabinet. Stopping his hunt to look at you as you closed your distance and reached a hand out to touch his arm gently. His heart skipping a beat as he took in your appearance. The way your hair was coiled into a bun, some strands leaving its confines to frame your face. Your oversized shirt and sweats still somehow complimenting your curves. This homely version of you was comforting in some way.

“What are you doing here?”

“You... didn’t answer,” he replied softly. Trying his best to downplay the anxiety that racked through him this past week. “And--I wanted to make sure that you were okay.”

You didn’t miss the way he glanced at your ankle before his gaze reached back up to yours. His face etched with care. The side smirk that you gave only caused the mood to lighten as you took a step back and opened the cabinet next to the one he was searching in. Grabbing a plate, you handed one to him before making your way to the platters filled with food. A comfortable silence between you two as you cram as much as you could into the tiny plates. Chan took a look around, subtly opening your drawer to peer into to find utensils.

“Ah, ah—nope.” You joked as you threw a plastic fork his way from the takeaway bag before making your way over to the couch. “I am not doing any more dishes than we need.”

Chan plopped next to you with a cheeky grin; “I could always do dishes.”

“You’re a guest,” you propped your leg on an ottoman. “Can’t have guest doing my chores, what kind of host would I be?”

“Well, considering you swung the door open like you were about to punch me—I say you’re not off to a great start.”

“Shut up,” you shove your shoulder on his, earning a small chuckle from Chan. As the two of you ate and watched daytime television your shoulder never left his. Supporting each other in the simplest of touches. Chan felt all his unease from the past week melt away as the two of you paid attention to the flat screen. No words needed to be spoken, just simply enjoying one another. The little crinkle forming around his eyes as he felt you leaned further into him. He couldn’t help but remember the first night you spent together with him. How the two of you fell into an easy rhythm of searching YouTube and just chatting the night away. Two pieces of a puzzle.

“I’m sorry... for not calling or texting back,” your quiet whisper brought him out of his thoughts as he turned to face you. He could see the guilt in your eyes. Your habit of biting your lower lip while thinking, sent a wave of warmth through him. Finding it extremely endearing to see you in such a state.

“Don’t worry about it. I understand, you needed your space.” You both set your plates down on the coffee table. As he said the words, part of him wanted to tell you what he was holding back. Tell you that he wanted to be there for you. That no matter what; his shoulder was yours to cry on if you needed it. It didn’t matter the time or the place, he would drop everything to be by your side. But, even as the thoughts rolled through his head, he stopped himself. Another part of him scared to voice them. Not only to you, but to himself.

You smile softly at his words. Your anxiety was soothed away by his reassuring demeanor. Time felt like it stopped as the two of you just stared at one another. It was starting to feel like these pauses in these instances were becoming more frequent. As your rapid heart rate. Especially when Chan leaned in a bit further; “But you do still have to answer my question.”

Question?

Your eyebrows scrunched together as your brain racked through what he was mentioning. What question? Did you dissociate during your time together and forget something?

He leaned a bit closer. You could feel his breath on your cheek as his eyes bore into yours. “Why...” his whisper was soft. Shivers running down your spine in anticipation. You didn’t know for what but knew that you were ready for whatever Chan threw at you. His hand slowly rising to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. Fingertips lightly grazing your skin.

“...do you guys have so many god damn mugs?”

The bark of laughter that coursed through you made those dimples you love reappear on his face. “You’re a fucking twat, you know that right?” You giggled as he moved his arm from your side to rest around your shoulder and pull you close to his chest. He feigned hurt at your words as he used his foot to move the ottoman with you, trying to keep your leg comfortable in the new position.

“It’s a genuine question; I’m concerned.”

“If you must know, we are caffeine addicts in this dorm.”

“Again--concerned.”

As the two of you laughed, you rested your cheek against his chest. Continuing the banter as the television continued its schedule. You weren’t sure how long had passed before Chan pulled out his phone and sighed a bit.

“I should get going,” he sounded annoyed. He knew he should head out and leave before your group came back from schedule, but his body didn’t react to his rational thinking. Fully content with you in his arms. Heart nearly melting at the sight of you looking up from his chest, lips pressed into a scowl at the mention of his departure.

“Don’t leave,” you nuzzled as close as you could. Grinning, as you could hear his heartbeat just a little faster at the gesture. “You just got here.”

Chan grinned as he pressed his forehead against yours. Scrunching up his nose a bit as his brushed the tip of yours. His smile infectious as his hand cupped your cheek. “Yea, still don’t understand Spanish, but when you’re all healed up, we can catch up again. Okay?”

“Okay,” you huff as you both pull away slightly. But his hand stops you from pulling back all the way. Thumb rubbing gently on your cheek as he stared down at your lips then back up to your eyes. Was he... asking for permission? This was new territory for both of you. Usually when together, it was a flurry of passion. Skin against skin, mouths usually too busy exploring each other’s bodies, clothes thrown aside. Nothing needed to be asked. Yet here you were, giving Chan a small nod before meeting him in the middle and pressing a gentle kiss on each other's lips. It was sweet. Lamblike. Nothing like the whirlwind that arose when the two of you were usually together. Chan felt his blood pumping through him, and for the first time it was not heading straight to his dick. His hand tried to keep the two of you as close as possible. Lips moving together in slow, almost calculated, motions. His tongue briefly brushing against your bottom lip with each rise and fall, but never fully making its way into your mouth. You could’ve groaned at the teasing, yet it somehow didn’t feel like that was his intention. It was almost as if he wanted to take his time with you. Prolonging what he could control.

Chan didn’t want this to end.

But when he finally pulled away to catch his breath, he looked down at you. Your eyes bright and wide. Showing him exactly every constellation of the universe in those wonderful orbs of yours. He opened his mouth to speak but you beat him to it.

“Do you want to go on a date?”

Your brain so rewired from the kiss you didn’t even realize you asked him in Spanish. You hadn’t meant to ask him out at all in fact, just out to a simple cup of coffee or something, not wanting to be as far away from him as you were these past couple of weeks. But as those dimples appeared on his face again—you knew you couldn’t take it back. It was now or never.

“You know I have no idea what you’re saying.” Chan could gather it was a question directed at him, but that was the extent of his knowledge.

His face-tinged pink as you placed a chaste kiss on his cheek; “Figure it out, and get back to me.”

God, it was just like you to reel him back in. Without realizing what you were doing, you still somehow knew how to push all his buttons in all the right ways. Just as he was about to lean in again, the door to the apartment unlocked and your team barreled through. Stopping at the corridor corner to stare at the two of you. Their laughter halting just as quickly as their feet. Chan and you quickly created distance from one another.

“Hi, ladies.” You gave a small smile as Chan cleared his throat and abruptly stood up. His face turning red as he tucked his hands nervously into his pockets.

“Ahem, er, well. I’ll be on my way out!” He gave you an awkward bow before making his way to the door. Bowing nonstop to your team, who was still frozen in place, their bodies moving with him as he attempted to escape.

“Chan?” His head popped from around the corner. The poor man looked like a bat out of hell. Two parts of equally embarrassed and terrified, with his face turning crimson and his eyes wide with fear. His body language was tense, as if he didn't know what to do or where to go. Trying to hold back your chuckle, you nodded towards the kitchen counter. “Your jacket.”

“Ah, right right!” He bustled past your girls, more awkward bows as he grabbed his jacket and returned to the door—making a haste retreat out of the apartment—leaving you to clean up the mess. How sweet.

Your youngest turned to you with wide eyes. A deer trapped in headlights. The other two just had their mouths open, staring at the closed door. As if their minds were tricking them to see the Bang Chan leaving their living room in a hurry. “So, um...” you clap your hands together and gesture to the takeaway on the counter.

“Anyone hungry?”

"Are you sure you’re getting the pronunciation right?”

Changbin, Hyunjin, and Jisung were gathered around Chan, their eyes glued to his laptop screen as they tried suggestions to type into Google Translate. It's been two days since you told Chan to ‘figure it out’, and though he thought the question was harmless, it was eating away at him. Tossing and turning throughout the night, there was nothing else he could fully focus on. His dorm mates found him hunched over his keyboard, furiously typing away, trying his best to decipher your phrase late at night when they decided to help in any way that they could. Between the four of them—it was just one brain cell rotating back and forth at midnight.

“How many different ways is there to type out this word?” Chan grumbled as Changbin pulled out his phone.

“Depending on the context, about three. Each one meaning different things somehow?”

“Dear, God!” Chan groaned and held his face in his hands. Hyunjin patted Chan’s back sympathetically.

“You know what you have to do.”

“No, no—anything but that.” Chan turned his head to face Hyunjin, his brows scrunched together in frustration. Not wanting to admit defeat. Jisung sighed and put his hand on Chan’s other shoulder.

“We’ve been going at this for hours--”

“Ten minutes.” Changbin corrected Jisung.

“--for what feels like hours.” Jisung rectified, “You have to put your big boy pants on and call her.”

“It’s almost one in the morning--”

“Hyung,” Changbin groaned. “Stop being a baby and just call her. We all know she’ll be up. She’s practically an owl.”

Chan swiveled in his chair as he watched them leave his room one by one. “Wait, wait—please don’t! We can keep trying Google!” Jisung mouthing a ‘sorry’ before he closed Chan’s bedroom door. Leaving him to do the one thing he knew he would never hear the end of.

Pulling out his phone his finger briefly hovering over the contact before sighing and hitting the video call button. It rang once, twice, and on the third ring he was met by a zoomed in eyeball on his screen.

“For fucks’ sake, Hannah, can you be normal for once?”

Hannah held her phone out at arm's length, giving full view of her in her bed. Some journals and crumbled up pages littered her bed giving indication that she was up late trying to express herself in her own creative process. Apparently, insomniac gifted night owls ran in their bloodline. “Geez, you’re in a mood,” Hannah grumbled as she sat up in her bed, “What’s up?”

She listened as her older brother described the events from two days ago. Chan tried to ignore the growing grin on her face as he continued on, trying his best to pronounce the words you whispered to him to the best of his ability. “So,” Chan fell into his bed with a ‘thump’. His head hitting his pillows as he stared up at his phone, holding it above him as he waited, “what did she ask?”

Hannah continued that shit eating grin of hers as she sang her next words; “Channie’s got a girlfriend~”

“Hannah--”

“You like like her, huh?” Hannah talked over Chan as he just rolled his eyes. Proving his case and point that he was going to regret this call.

“Hannah, for the love of God. Can you just tell me?”

“I’m sorry what was that?” Hannah cupped her ear and feigned confusion. “I think you were missing a word or two there. Probably bad cell connection.”

Tricky little--

“Hannah,” he replied as nicely as he could through his gritted teeth, “can you please tell me what she said.”

“I believe my name is ‘sister-that-is-always-right'.”

“I’m hanging up--”

“Wait, wait!” Hannah’s giggles rang through Chan’s speakers as one hand still held his phone above him and the other hovered over the ‘end phone call’ button on his screen. “Okay, okay! I’m sorry.”

“Geez,” Hannah gave her brother a knowing look, “you’ve got it bad, huh? She’s got you all in a tizzy.”

“Hannah, its late. And I haven’t slept in two days. Can you please just--”

“She asked you out, idiot.”

More laughter from the speaker could be heard as the phone slipped from his fingers and fell square onto his face. Hannah taking a blurry screen shot before it made contact—still able to see the look of pure surprise, sprinkled with elation, in the candid photo.

A week. One whole week. No text, no call. Pure silence.

As much as you enjoyed solitude, especially when it came to your teammates, you couldn’t help but feel at lost from not hearing back from Chan. Your mind was constantly racing, even as you currently sat with your girls on the couch, watching Singin’ In the Rain—your thoughts were consumed of Chan and his out of character ghosting.

Maybe he couldn’t figure it out? Maybe he was busy; he was a global sensation after all. His schedule was probably fluctuating like water. You couldn’t blame him. He was living his dream, and there was nothing in you other than pride.

And some self-doubt.

Because as much as you wanted to believe that he was running back and forth like a crazy man, there was still one thought that rang louder than the rest—maybe he just wasn’t interested. It wasn’t a far-off idea. You knew that all those rendezvous' nights had one unspoken rule—for that one night, and those one nights only—you were his and he was yours. But it was never supposed to go past that.

Stupid Chan for being so sweet to you; bandaging your ankle at your most exposed moment and coming in to check on you when you were too embarrassed at yourself and running away from any form of confrontation. You once told DIV studios that you were immune to Chan’s flirting—but you never said anything about his affection.

“Ah,” your youngest sighed from her next to you on the couch. She craned her head to look at the door after hearing a soft knock. “That’s probably the pizza.” Without another word, all four of you started to play rock-paper-scissors. Ultimately ending with your loss, and the girls whooping their celebration as you got up and made your way to the door. You opened it without taking a look in the peep hole.

Chan stood there, wearing a black mask to go with his hoodie and beanie. Despite half his face being covered you could tell it was him from the way his eyes crinkled. Was that—nervousness you saw?

“I would--” Chan cleared his throat when you just stood there, unable to form words on your mouth, “I would love to go on a date with you.”

When you didn’t speak, he shifted a bit more on his feet. “That’s um... all I know how to say.” Chan chuckled to ease the tension. You take note how his hands are tucked into the front pouch of his hoodie. No doubt fiddling with his rings anxiously as he shifted in his place. Chan felt like he was back in middle school asking a girl to dance for the first time. Butterflies, knots in the stomach, all the works, were rushing through him.

"Say something, you idiot!” You heard your youngest hiss at you. All three of them are leaning over the couch’s backrest to watch the scene unfolding in front of them. Ears and face flushed all you could do was nod your head. You wanted to speak. Wanted to jump and giggle your way into his arms. But hearing him speak Spanish—everything in you was so hot and flustered. A hold that you just couldn’t bring yourself to get out of.

“Great--cool,” Chan was glad for the mask. That way you couldn’t see him biting the inside of his cheek. “Did you...want to go now?”

“Now?”

“Now?” your girls parroted, and you finally got out of your frozen state to glare at them. Your youngest making a motion of zipping her lips and throwing away the key.

“I have a packed schedule for the rest of the week.” A blatant lie. Truth was, Chan couldn’t wait anymore. He wanted to see how this would all pan out. He just didn’t want to show just how desperate he was to spend time with you. But the way you bit your lip and stood aside to let him in, he knew that part of you could see through it all. You quickly excused yourself to your room to get ready, knowing that your oversized comic shirt and sleeping shorts would not cut it for a night out.

Your girls’ eyes narrowed as Chan stood in the hallway. Another awkward bow towards them in greeting as he waited for you. When he first knocked on your door it required all of his resolve to remain in place, as he struggled to overcome his desire to bolt and flee. The intimidation he felt about you potentially passing on the offer was too much, but he pushed through it. The thought of you saying yes outweighed the cons that tumbled through his head. Yet, as he stood under the prying eyes of your team, he felt that same fear overtake him because he knew this wouldn’t be a conversation.

It would be an interrogation.

“Where are you taking her?”

“Somewhere special.” A spot he held close to his heart, he wanted to add, but they cut in before he could express his words.

“Late at night? Why?” One quipped before another added; “Trying to pull something sly on her?”

“What? No, I-I, I’ve had a busy schedule--”

“Oh, so everything should be based on when you’re available?”

“What? No! It’s just--”

They were going so fast, Chan barely had time to think of a response before the other fired off another question.

“You think because you’re famous, you can just jerk her around?” Your youngest glared at him. He opened his mouth quickly, but another was quick to intercept him.

“Such typical male behavior.”

“Alright, that’s enough!” Everyone quickly turned to you as you stepped out of your room. Putting an end to the girl’s questioning, much to Chan’s relief. You smiled as you leaned over the couch to pinch your youngest cheek before turning back to Chan.

“Shall we head out?”

“Wow,” is all you could say as Chan lead you to a lone bench. After about a half mile climb up the staircase, the two of you finally reached your destination—on top of a hill overlooking Seoul’s city lights. With the late hour, the city was asleep leaving the feeling that it was only the two of you in the world. The both of you sat on that bench for an hour or two, just catching up from the week you spent apart. Conversation flowing naturally between the two of you once again. Chan told you that he would sneak up here every now and then to clear his head after working his expected long hours. Everything was quiet enough for him to just detach--but your howls ringing through the clearing was just as welcoming to his ears.

“Okay, okay!” You laughed as Chan had to explain putting his pride aside to ask his younger sister for help. His arm was around your shoulder, pulling you in close as the two of you watched the quiet city below. “So, you went through all of that, but you didn’t think of calling me for like a hint or something?”

“You said to figure it out!”

“Not if it meant selling your soul!”

Chan chuckled as his grip around you tightened a bit, shaking you as you laughed. His eyes locked on to you; the way your face was red due to the chilly night, the crinkles around your eyes as you smiled, and the way you scrunched up your nose. “For you—it was worth it.”

God, how much you wanted to pull down that damn mask of his and touch his lips with yours. Everything about this night was perfect. But soon, the clock hit 3am and the two of you decided to head back before your girls decided to send a search team for you. Getting up with a groan, Chan laced his fingers with yours as he led you towards the exit.

Chan noticed the way you stared down at the stairs, your eyebrows pinched together at the thought of having to walk all the way down. He wondered briefly if your ankle was still bothering you. It's been weeks since the sprain, but if you soldiered your way climbing up the steps there was a chance that you were feeling some tension on the tendon. Without a word, he let go of your hand and went down two steps and leaned a bit forward. Casting a glance over his shoulder he gestured for you to ‘hop on’. You giggled as you jumped and latched around him like a koala. He feigned a groan at the impact as he adjusted you before grabbing onto the underside of your thighs to hoist you up.

“Hey, hey!” Chan giggled as you hooked your chin on his shoulder and blew into his ear. “Cut it out or I’m leaving you here!”

You giggled as you muttered an apology as he continued to descend the steps. Chan hummed as he became your personal lackey, taking in the night sights and the clear star filled sky. Your eyes never leaving his profile as the gears in your head turned; “Why did it take you so long to say yes?”

Chan stumbled on a step for a second before readjusting you in his grip. “I figured since you asked me in Spanish,” Chan kept his gaze focused on the trail ahead, “that I should reply in Spanish.”

“You practiced for days to get it perfect, didn’t you.”

The embarrassed chuckle from Chan was all confirmation you needed. And, though you didn’t think it was possible, you felt you heart swell as you snuggled closer to his nape.

“Did we not have a great date?”

“We did.”

“And now it’s coming to an end.”

“It is.”

“Then--,” you huff and cross your arms across your chest. Chan smiles and leans his shoulder against your door, looking down at you as you pout and look anywhere else but at him. He could tell that you were trying to pull something out of him. What it was he wasn’t exactly sure, but seeing you turn red, and struggle was entertaining to watch. You were being cute.

To both of your disappointment; the evening was coming to an end. And despite your subtle attempts to pull some physical intimacy from Chan during the car ride back to your dorm, Chan was doing his very best to hold himself back in anyway that he could.

“Then?” Chan grinned down at you. His fingers lightly grazing your chin and tilt you head up towards him.

You finally bit your lower lips and looked up at him. Yes, you were beating around the bush. But him? He was just fully toying with you. His Libra was showing. “Then…

Why haven’t you kissed me?”

It felt like everything was going backward. Ever since he asked you on this date, it felt like he was trying to distance himself. Holding back in any way that he could. But that wouldn’t be it--would it? The way your eyes kept roaming to his lips throughout the night should’ve been more than enough to hint at what you wanted most. Unlike Chan, you were not holding back. You craved anything he was willing to give. He caught you--hook line and sinker.

Chan took note of the way your breath hitched as his hand reached out to place a strand of your hair behind your ear. Your cheeks flushed as he slowly closed the distance. His hand now sneaking behind your head to hold you still as his lips press flush against yours. Once he felt you bring your body against his own, the desperation between you both became almost palpable. Chan's hand found its way to your waist to make sure there was no space left, while the one holding the back of your neck tightened around your roots. The tension caused some slight pain, causing you to moan against his kiss.

“Do you…” You attempted to catch your breath. Despite breaking away from the kiss, neither of you made a move to detach from one another. His grip on your waist tightened as he subtly tried to rub himself against you. Chan’s restraint was slowly dissipating at finally having contact with you after all this. “Do you want to come in?”

Chan groaned as he felt you press your pelvis even harder against him. All the teasing was thrown out the window. All he could think about was how long it had been without feeling your bare body against his. But he knew better. There was something he wanted more than just another night of passion.

He wanted you.

“No,” Chan shook his head before placing a small peck on your forehead. “I--I want to do this right.”

You were checking your phone every hour. You hated to admit just how much of a hold Chan had on you and yet here you were-- waiting at a bar entrance when he texted you in the middle of the night that he was finally free to meet up. It was a long week since your first date with Chan, who was immediately busy with album prep the very next morning. Being the sweet man he was, he promised to take you out for a drink to make up for it. Though he really didn't need too. You constantly teased him over the phone that you no longer wake up to your alarm, but to the sweet -cheesy- texts that he sends every morning. Or over the fact that he video calls you right before bed, his snores filling your room even when miles apart. A gentle reminder that he hasn't forgotten about you despite the conflicting schedules.

"Five minutes," the text on your phone read, "Felix and Jeongin decided to pop by to convince Bin and the others to join them for barbeque - be there soon!"

So immersed in trying to find the perfect gif as your reply back, you didn't notice the lone man who was smoking a cigarette, eyeing you. He slowly made his way over, and when you finally spotted him from the corner of your eye , you gave a small polite smile as he attempted to start conversation with you. You let him drunkenly flirt with you - again-just trying to be polite. And from the way he was holding the conversation he didn't seem to be a threat of any sort. So you laughed at his attempts to flirt, stumbling over himself constantly whenever he would meet your eyes. "Sorry," he mumbled as he scratched the back of his head , "I'm usually better at this."

"It's okay," you chuckle softly, "but I think it's best to let you know that I'm not looking for anything right now.”

"Ah," the man gave an embarrassed smile ,"should've known someone as pretty as you would have a boyfriend.”

It was an innocent comment, but it threw you off guard for a moment, and your thoughts were thrown into a silent chaos. Being in training for a majority of your life, it wasn't like you had full experiences in relationships. Some kisses and fun here and there, yes, but you never had the chance to dive into the world of dating. Chan and you only had one date, and he did say that he wanted to do this right-- did that constitute a relationship in his eyes? It did in yours, but was that enough to have his eyes not stray? To shoot down someone whenever they would come up to him and drunkenly try to shoot their shot?

A hand wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to their side, stopped your thoughts from spiraling. Your head inclined to see that profile you had imprinted into your mind as he carried you down those steps without breaking a sweat. Despite the mask covering him you knew who it was-- however, that crinkle around his eyes was gone as Chan glared at the man you were speaking too. "She does," he growled uncharacteristically. A warning to the man as he claimed what was his. Chan didn't give the man a moment to respond as he looked down at you, his dark eyes finally shedding some light as his gaze locked with yours. "You ready to head in?"

Even though it was a question, Chan didn't allow you to answer as he guided you the opposite way down the sidewalk. Walking right past the bar he invited you out to. "Wait aren't we—”

“Changed my mind," Chan grumbled as he kept leading you down the sidewalk. “Too many drunk idiots. I know a place we can sit and eat. I'll buy you as many drinks as you want, or all the galbi you can eat? I know a joint that also makes really good jerky—”

When you paused in your tracks, some anxiety washed through Chan. Did he take it too far? He couldn't help it seeing someone trying to make their move on you—

“You called me your girlfriend,” a cheeky grin plastered on your face. Chan felt his checks heat up and he cleared his throat to turned to look away. His hand never leaving your waist.

"Technically, I just confirmed that you have a boyfriend."

Without missing a beat you stepped in front of Chan and lowered his mask to rest on his chin. You made sure to tuck his hoodie over his head to cover his face from prying eyes even though it was late at night and the streets were virtually empty. Chan gulped as you stared right at him. Not at the physical body standing in front of you—at him. "Say it," you breathed out. Chan had to steady his heart as you spoke. It wasn't a request, but a demand. Your hands staying on his hoodie as you waited for him to comply.

"You have a boyfriend," he gave a cheeky grin back as you groaned. Knowing exactly the words you wanted to hear, but decided to tease you just a bit.

"Chan—”

"You're my girlfriend.” Chan placed his hands back on your hips and absent-mindedly traced little circles just above the trim where your skin was slightly exposed. He suddenly felt nervous as he realized he was just staking a claim without talking to you about it. But the way you were almost begging to hear those words, let him know that you wanted this as much as he does. Yes, you only had one date. But the months leading up to that were the best months he had in a very long time. "And if you want, I'll be your boyfriend ..."

As you stayed quiet, he felt those damn nerves coming back up. He tried to gauge your reaction as you just stared at him, but got nothing. " What?" he joked to lighten the tension and his anxiety. "Want me to say that in Spanish to—”

Using the grip you had on his hoodie, you pulled his head down towards you and crashed your lips against his. His little squeak of surprise was muffled as your tongue grazed his bottom lip to ask for entrance. The circles he was tracing stopped immediately as he tightened his grip around you and pulled you closer. Deepening the kiss as much as he could without it being too inappropriate out in public.

You whispered against him as the two of you finally parted for air. "Let's get out of here."

Dinner was forgotten as Chan practically ran the two of you back to his dorm room. Your shirt was ripped off of you the moment he closed his bedroom door with his foot. Chan grinned wildly as you parted from his flushed lips to kiss his neck, trailing your little love bites more and more down south until you fully rested on your knees before him. Watching excitedly as your fingers made quick work of his confines and taking him into your mouth. As your eyes batted up at him, Chan let out a shaky breath and rested his head slightly against the wooden door. You couldn't contain your moans around his length as his fingers threaded your hair, gently guiding you to take him all the way to the back of your throat. Nose pressed to his pelvis.

Hearing you gag around his growing cock made his hips buck. Your hands found the back of his knees as he continued to rut into your filthy mouth. Your roots being slightly tugged as he tried to ground himself. The feeling of your tongue rolling around the underside of him while you suctioned in your cheeks to create a vacuum almost had him unraveling in you right then and there.

"Look at you," Chan cooed as your eyes pooled tears from his intrusion, "all desperate from calling you mine."

He pulled on your strands, your mouth leaving his erection with a wet 'plop', to have you standing upright before him. Your lips were parted as your chest heaved to take in deep breathes. Face flush and lips swollen he felt his cock twitch at your fucked out expression. You could've sworn you heard a growl escape him as he hoisted you up, your legs wrapping around him instinctively, lips crashing against yours and threw you on his bed. You discarded the rest of your clothes as Chan watched you, licking his lips. He could still taste himself from the residue on your lips. Ready to pounce and devour you, as if his eyes weren't already doing that enough.

"What?" Your teasing tone brought Chan out of his predatory gaze. He watched as your fingers trailed down to your core. Lightly grazing your folds, enticing him as you spread your arousal around. "Cat got your tongue?"

"Don't worry," Chan purred as he crawled onto the bed. His mouth hovering right above your mound, breath tickling your skin. "There's only one cat that has the pleasure of my tongue right now."

You gripped his sheets as soon as his tongue made contact with your bundle of nerves. Wasting no time to insert a finger to prep you. Not that you needed it, he moaned at the thought, you were already so wet. Just ready for him. All for him.

With another finger, he curled against your walls, setting the exact pace that he knew you loved. His palm keeping that delicious pressure against your clit as he moved his body up to catch a nipple between his teeth. Sucking onto it as if he was expecting something to come out of it. The thought had you reeling as your hand found his head. Holding him close against you as your hips ground against his fingers.

'I would love to go on a date with you'

'No, I want to do this right.'

'I wanted to make sure you're alright. '

Simple little sentences here and there. Words formed by the man that made you absolutely weak to your knees. Each one lead you to where you were right now—closing in on your orgasm with the most perfect man practically worshipping you.

"Chan," you whimpered, "Channie, need you in me."

Need to come around you.

The words you didn't say. But as Chan removed his lips from your breast and glanced up at you—he knew. Knew how much you craved something more than his digits to take you all the way. That you needed that stretch that only he could provide.

You squeaked as he ripped his fingers from your depths, grabbing your hips, and practically throwing you onto your stomach. He growled as you rested on all fours, arching your back and presenting yourself instantly, his teeth biting your cheeks and finally leaving those marks he desperately wanted to give you in the Inkigayo supply closet. The same growl that vibrated through him when he spoke to the man that flirted with you outside the bar earlier tonight.

Deep and guttural. Almost feral.

You almost came right then and there.

Chan and you hissed as he pressed his tip against your entrance. Chan's hand coming to the curve of your back and gently guiding you to bend a bit further for him. Your check rested on his mattress as he rubbed up and down your folds, coating himself with your arousal. "You gotta let me in," Chan teased as he experimentally pressed into you again. Still to no avail. All those weeks without one another made you lose the shape of him it seemed. Chan clicked his tongue and pressed a kiss on your spine. He didn't mind; it just meant he had to keep reminding your body. He'd gladly do so all night long if he had too.

You, on the other hand, we're starting to get frustrated. You needed him in you, it's been far too long without you wrapped around him. Your fingers, the toys you hid in your room, nothing compared to this. To him.

You pushed against him, mind too foggy to even care about the burn. Thoughts were wholly consumed of him. Chan moaned as he felt himself slightly press into you. "Careful,” he hissed as he grabbed your hips to stop you, "you're going to hurt yourself."

You turned to look over your shoulder. Your hair that was once pulled back for the date was coming undone. Strands were thrown around your face. Completely disheveled.

"Don't care."

Chan felt something in him snap. Those two words were all he needed to push himself entirely in you in one thrust. You practically screamed, and Chan was quick to wrap his hand around your mouth to muffle you. His hip never stopping their pace as he leaned down to groan in your ear; “If you don't keep it down, the kids will hear you."

By the time the two of you entered the shared dorm, the rest of his roommates had already returned from their time at the barbeque and were deep asleep in their rooms. Guess they decided against a big meal and went out for something quicker. So, you did your best to keep it down as much as you could. But by God, was that one of the most difficult things to do as Chan kept reaching the deepest part of you. Scratching that itch that you haven't been able to reach yourself for months.

Chan hoisted you up once he felt your walls adjust to him, hand still on your mouth as your back pressed flush to his chest. The other wrapping around you to rub messy circles against your clit. Your eyes rolled back as you felt your thighs spasm, pure unadulterated ecstasy coursing through your veins. Your mouth hung open as you panted heavily into his palm. The loud moans that escaped you were traded out with small whimpers. Silent little pleas for Chan to take you there.

His lips never left your skin. Kissing on your neck, jaw, ear—anything that he could latch onto so he could muffle his own noise. Only allowing the slaps of his thighs against yours to fill the room.

"Are you close?” Chan groaned in your ear. He could feel you clenching around him, closing in on your orgasm. "Where do you want it, stomach or behind?"

You shook your head at his question, whimpering against him. Neither of those is what you wanted. Him. You wanted him.

Chan felt his brow furrow slightly. This was a first. His hips slowed as the pieces of the puzzles came together. "Oh, oh?"

He withdrew entirely, earning a grumble of protest from you, and flipped you to lie on your back. He couldn't deny that he wanted it as well, and he'll be damned if he couldn't look you in the eyes as you felt his warm seed enter you for the first time. Chan's hand rested gently on your lower abdomen, kneading the skin underneath his fingertips. "Is this where you want it? Here?"

You didn't know it was possible but you could've sworn a mini orgasm washed through you as you heard him ask in Spanish. Chan chuckled quietly as he lined back up with you and gently pushed in until he was nice and snug in your warmth. Hand still on you, "I guess I can oblige. After all this is mine, right?"

"Yes, yes—” You instantly replied as he picked up his pace again. Chan's mouth finding yours in a messy kiss. The gentle touch of his palm turned into a pressure as he started to push down. No words could explain the obscene thoughts that went through his head as he felt himself move through you. He breathed in your moans that grew louder and louder with every thrust.

A crescendo as the waves of pleasure rolled higher and higher. Until it all came crashing down. Your hands found the back of his head, holding him close, as the surge flooded your mind, body, and soul with pure white hot ecstasy.

With the pressure of you holding him tight, on both ends, Chan found himself releasing deep inside you. Coating you with the very warmth you've yearning for months. Claiming everything he ever wanted.

As the ripples started to quell between the two of you, you and Chan finally parted for air. You couldn't help but give a teasing grind of your hips, earning a hiss from Chan as he pulled gently out of you before collapsing on the bed next to you face first.

"What are you doing?" You laughed as Chan just groaned in response.

“That was so good, I think I died.” His voice came muffled though his sheets. You propped yourself on your elbow on the bed before smacking your palm down on one of his cheeks. Your laughter roaring through the room as he squealed before turning on his side to find you looking down at him with that shit eating smirk. "Come here," he laughed before pulling you to lay on his chest.

Your head laid on his bare chest, listening in to his heart beat and the air that flowed in and out of his lungs. Chan's arm wrapped around you as one of your free hands traced idle circles along his collarbone, the other resting under his head in the afterglow. “Stay," he whispered so softly you barely heard him.

A plea for you to not leave him in the middle of the night like you used to before. "Of course,” you place a small kiss on his jaw before resting your eyes. Afterall, this wasn't a redezvous. This was something more. And for the rest of the night, Chan held you snug against him.

Chan only woke up when the sunlight flitted through his curtains. Groaning he turned to his side, arm stretched out in search for you. Only to be met with his sheets. His eyes flashed open and the dark brown orbs frantically scanned the room. His heart sank when he couldn't find your figure.

You promised.

Dawning some sweats, he made his way to the shared bathroom. Stopping in his tracks when a familiar giggle echoed through the dorm.

"Look who's finally awake," you smile. Chan took notice that you stole one of his hoodies and sweats as you, Jisung , and Changbin sat at the dinning room table. Hair up in a bun, completely tilted off to the side, as if you lived here your entire life. You belonged.

Images of his dream during his time in Paris flashed through his mind briefly.

You giggled as Chan walked around the table to wrap his arms around your shoulders and kiss your neck in greeting. Changbin and Jisung made gagging noises, but Chan just flipped them off before sliding a stool to sit next to you. "What are you guys talking about?"

He took note how your cheeks flushed and looked away from the table. Suddenly interested in the fruit bowl that sat on the kitchen island. Jisung made himself busy by clearing out the dirty plates and walking over to the sink. Deciding it wouldn’t be appropriate to have that kind of discussion with his elder. Changbin, however, was a stark contrast from the two of you. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Oh," Changbin said with a drawl, “nothing much."

"Just trying to see how we can sound proof your room so the rest of the dorm can sleep without any," Changbin casted a glance at you, “interruptions."

Author's Note: I want to say I apologize for how long this took me! Work, life, and everything in between has been dragging me down and I lost some inspiration during the time away. I want to thank everyone for their kind words for part 1. I do have an idea for part 3. However, I won't have a timeline of when it can be done, since work has been leaving me a bit more drained than I imagined and I'm usually a zombie by the time I get home. Hope you enjoyed it and so sorry it's so long

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ph4ngz · 2 years

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HOW THEY FUCK YOU || BLUE LOCK

w/ isagi, chigiri, bachira, rin and sae :D reo, nagi and kunigami version here <3

Isagi Yoichi fucks you with ultimate passion. He loves to see his best and beautiful girl bouncing up and down each time he forces his hard cock inside of your— no, his perfect pussy. With his forearms resting beside your head, he'll murmur sweet nothings into your open mouth as he shakes his head so that your noses touch a few times. "Let it all go..." he'll grant you a long, fiery kiss when you're about to cum just to hear and watch you gasp for air as he thumbs your pulsing clit, "you're so gorgeous when you cum on my cock, such a pretty girl". Most of the time, Isagi won't let himself cum until you're incapable of moaning anything but his name and his name only.

"C'mon baby, moan my name. Hell, fuckin' scream it if you want to. F-Fuck!" he'll pry it out of you, he always does. It's not like you can help it when he's making you feel so good, its the only name you'll ever be thinking of no matter what situation you're in.

Chigiri Hyoma fucks you with unrivalled speed. He never fails to leave you unable to form a coherent sentence, your brain turning to mush throughout your fuck sessions every single time. "Hngh, what a view," he'll moan and kiss one of your calves laid upon his shoulders whilst drilling into your sopping cunt, having your asscheeks propped up on his knees so his arms can wrap around your limp thighs. Whenever you're trying to speak, Chigiri will change pace to fuck you faster. He can't get enough of your futile attempts at speaking, revelling in the cute, long-winded whimpers that jump along with his thrusts.

"Fuuuuck... a-almost too fast for this pretty pussy to handle..." he'll stutter, leaning his warm forehead into your raised leg before the soft walls gripping at his dick begin to constrict again, opening his clenched eyes to witness you cum without warning. "One more time, atta girl. Don't pass out on me, dumbass."

Bachira Meguru fucks you with eager fascination. There's no such thing as a boring sex life with him around. Your noises and expressions are what he thrives off of, so you can forget trying to keep anything from him as he will, without a doubt, succeed in getting the reaction he wants from you. He loves getting you all embarrassed with his unpredictable antics, like the times when he'll land a swift slap upon your swollen clit right after caressing you so gently. "Mmph!" he'll bite his lip playfully at the sharp impact and grin sinfully at your bowed brows, "my, myyyy~ you liked that, didn't you?".

Bachira will treat sex like a damn guessing game, you don't understand why though, seeing as he knows you like the back of his hand. Maybe it's to show you how amazing he is in bed without sounding so egotistical. "Are you going to cum? No? A-Agh, how about now? Just kidding. Cum all over me..." he'll joke whilst relentlessly slamming his hips against your ass, observing your body jolt uncontrollably in his lap. "That's it, that's my slutty little monster."

Itoshi Rin fucks you with intense craving. He's utterly obsessed with you. You're the one segment of his life that big brother Sae cannot touch, and he likes to keep it that way. He'll never get over the sensation of security your tight, wet pussy brings forth, his loud sighs and possessive gripping at your thighs giving him away every time. Everything about your existence stokes a desire within him, making him crave that particular, heart-melting expression that Sae could never achieve. "Huh, huh..." he'll pant into your neck whilst ruthlessly humping you against the wall, "only I can make you feel like this, only me...". He'll have your entire body quivering, convulsing under his expert touch in seconds, and its when you do reach your high that he pays more attention than he would during a fucking soccer match.

Rin would rather die than not be able to see you cum for him. For him to be content, he has to etch the memory into his brain. "Good girl, good girl," he'll lovingly caress your contorting face and angle his hips perfectly, "I want you to cum s-so hard for me, so hard for me that you forget your own name." Sometimes the rewarding sight ends up being too much for his poor heart to take in, ropes of white releasing inside of you unexpectedly.

Itoshi Sae fucks you with utmost confidence. He knows damn well that nobody can have the control that he has over you. You'd do anything for him. "Now, bend over and fucking take it for me." he'll demand whilst tapping his bare cock upon your asscheek, not a single worry about your obedience faltering because... its him, of course you'll obey. When he fucks you from behind, he loves to gently grab you by the neck and pull your back into his chest. He'll praise you for your best behaviour, heavy balls thumping against your clit with his brutal thrusting. "Like a fucking champion..." with a hand brushing stray hairs away from your heated face.

Out of all the trophies he's racked up over the past, you're by far his most treasured. Sae is reminded of this once he sees your plumped lips open in a silent scream, spongy walls vice-like around his length as your release hits you like a brick. "There you go, cream on my fat cock." he'll groan into your sensitive ear, the hand around your neck coiling tighter like a deadly constricter snake.

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#blue lock smut #blue lock #isagi yoichi #isagi smut #bachira meguru #bachira smut #rin itoshi #itoshi rin #bllk smut #chigiri smut #chigiri hyoma #itoshi sae #itoshi sae smut

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goldfades · 1 year

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✮ 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡, jack hughes

♡ ─ word count | 10.7k (WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. UM?? MB?? got a bit carried away with this one sorry y'all)

♡ ─ summary | y/n had always been in love with jack since she was a kid, but he had always chosen everyone else but her.

♡ ─ warnings | kind of mark estapa x reader as well but guess who she chooses in the end??? unedited (i'll edit in the morning y'all i just wanna get this out ASAP) SOOO MUCH ANGST OML, childhood best friends trope, unrequited love (for the most part), description of sex (like two sentences u could blink and it's gone), lots of cursing, fighting (sm of it), asshole!jack, idk they may be more but i'm lazy (promise they're not bad if i'm not mentioning them rn)

♡ ─ taglist | @valluvsu (check link in navigation for taglist form if you are interested!)

♡ ─ ev's notes | WHOOOHOOO! it's finally done yayyaa, i got this done in like two days bc i was so excited. jack hughes is very much gold rush coded, pls argue with the wall if you disagree. but anyway! this is a long one, so strap in!!! so much feelings in one fic lol i'm done, but i'm actually very proud of myself. as always, i'm open to respectful critics as i love to improve my writing for you all!! anyways, pls enjoy this fucking novel LMAOO, and let me know your thoughts!!!

Jack Hughes had always been the most beautiful person you'd ever seen.

Not just physically, he'd always been one of the sweetest people you'd ever met. He genuinely cared about how you were feeling and listened attentively when you spoke. His kindness and compassion were qualities that drew you to him from the very beginning.

But it wasn't just his sweet personality that captivated you; it was the way he looked at you with those mesmerizing eyes, filled with warmth and kindness. Whenever he gazed into your eyes, it felt like he was seeing straight into your soul, understanding you in a way that no one else ever had. But never in the way that you wanted.

Every time he smiled, it lit up the room any room he was in, and your heart simultaneously. His laughter was infectious, and being around him brought a sense of joy and happiness that was unparalleled.

He'd always been the special one in the room, with his skills on the ice or his undeniable beauty. It wasn't Jack's fault that he had such an effect on people; it was simply a consequence of his charm and charisma. What sometimes made you feel inadequate was the way other girls looked at him, with admiration and longing in their eyes.

Every time you saw him with those adoring eyes gazing at another girl, it was like a dagger to your heart. What hurt most though, was the way he looked back at them. His gaze held a attraction and desire that you craved, but it was a warmth he reserved for them, not ever for you.

You couldn't fault him for it; he couldn't control where his heart led him. You watched him from a distance, silently cheering him on in his pursuits of happiness, even when it meant seeing him with someone else.

Yet, despite the pain it caused you, you couldn't help but be there for him when he needed it. Whenever he faced heartbreak or disappointment, you were the one he turned to for comfort and understanding. It was bittersweet, being the person he leaned on while secretly thinking how you could never ever hurt him the way those other girls did. Your heart ached every time he told you about his the girls, and you would listen attentively, offering advice and consolation. You wanted to be the one to mend his broken heart, to make him see that you were right there, loving him in a way no one else ever could. But you kept those feelings locked away, hidden beneath the guise of friendship.

And you knew he loved you, he truly did. He would just never love you the way you'd always wanted. You felt selfish for wanting more. He was already yours in some regard, others would dream of being that close to the Jack Hughes. You were already an important part of his life, someone he trusted and cared about. Being close to Jack Hughes in any capacity was a dream come true for most, and you felt incredibly fortunate to have him as a friend.

But deep down, you couldn't help the longing that tugged at your heartstrings. You couldn't help the desire for something more, something that went beyond friendship. It was a complex mix of emotions, and you grappled with the guilt of wanting something that might change the dynamic between you two.

It was hard seeing him repeating those mistakes over and over again, and him running back to you wishing he had someone to love him fully and truly, for who he was. You often found yourself on the verge of screaming, wanting to shout, "What about me? Don't you see what's right in front of you?!" But you remained silent, as you always did, playing the role of the understanding friend who listened without judgment.

And each time he came to you with a broken heart, you wished he could recognize the depth of your love, the unwavering support you offered, and the fact that you were right there, ready to love him fully and unconditionally. But it seemed that he was blind to your feelings, or perhaps he was simply too caught up in his own search for love to notice what was right in front of him.

It seemed everyone else saw how much you loved him, Quinn giving you sympathetic smiles and Luke giving you advice. They saw the way you looked at Jack when he wasn't watching, the way your eyes held a mixture of adoration and hurt. They noticed how you were always there for him, ready to offer a comforting word or a reassuring hug when he needed it the most. It wasn't just your words or actions that revealed your love; it was the unwavering presence you provided in his life.

And so, you continued to sit still and listen, even when every fiber of your being screamed for him to see you, to love you, and to choose you. Your love for him remained a silent, unspoken truth, buried deep within your heart as you watched him repeat his relationship mistakes, hoping that one day, he would finally realize the love that had always been right beside him.

He was always grateful for your presence and care until he wasn't. Until he started taking you for granted, choosing his shiny new friends over you.

The pain of unrequited love was compounded by the feeling of being cast aside, as if your friendship and support no longer held the same value they once did. You couldn't help but wonder if he had forgotten all the times you had been there for him, the countless moments you had shared.

It was a painful realization that the person you loved so deeply was no longer the same person who had once cherished you. And yet, you couldn't bring yourself to walk away, holding onto the hope that one day he would remember the bond you had shared and the love that had always been there, waiting for him to see.

──

"Where have you been?!" Ellen, Jack's mom, exclaimed as you walked into the Hughes' lake house. She immediately walked over to you, embracing you tightly.

Over the past couple months, you had declined numerous invitations to Hughes family events over the past couple of months. You had told them that school was taking up most of your time, which was partly true. In reality, you just didn't want to see Jack.

"Just busy with school," you replied, returning her embrace warmly. Ellen Hughes had always been like a second mother to you, and her genuine concern warmed your heart.

Ellen held you at arm's length, her kind eyes studying your face. "You know, you don't have to disappear just because of school, sweetheart. You're always welcome here, no matter what."

Her words tugged at your heartstrings. You knew the Hughes family cared about you deeply, and it pained you to distance yourself from them as well. "I appreciate that, Ellen. It's just been a hectic semester, but I promise I'll make more time for you guys."

The bond between you and the Hughes family ran deep. You had known Jack and his brothers since childhood, and your connection had only grown stronger over the years. You were there for them through thick and thin, and they, in turn, had become an integral part of your life. You'd been close with the family since you were young, you'd been there for the brothers since day one.

From building sandcastles at the beach during summer vacations to sharing secrets by the campfire during family camping trips, your memories with the Hughes brothers were countless. Ellen and Jim Hughes had always treated you like one of their own, and you felt a sense of belonging that was unmatched anywhere else.

As the years passed and feelings grew more complex, you found yourself at a crossroads. You had always been there for Jack, offering your support and friendship without reservation. However, as your feelings for him had deepened, it had become increasingly challenging to hide your true feelings. You couldn't risk damaging the close-knit relationship you had with the Hughes family, especially when you knew Jack didn't share the same romantic feelings.

So, you made the difficult decision to take a step back, to create some distance in the hope that you could regain control over your heart. It wasn't an easy choice, and it meant missing out on moments with the family that had become a second home to you.

Ellen smiled, her eyes twinkling with understanding. "We've missed you, sweetheart. And I know someone else who's been missing you too."

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, and you couldn't help but wonder if Jack had noticed your absence more than you had expected.

"Luke! Sweetheart, look who's decided to show up!''

Oh, you've gotta be kidding me. Of course it wasn't Jack.

Your heart sank as Luke, Jack's younger brother, bounded into the room with excitement. You were confused, you loved Luke equally as Jack (you tried to convince yourself), but Luke wasn't exactly the most enthusiastic person when it came to you. Now, you knew something was up.

"Hey, you," Luke said with a warm smile, giving you a bear hug that nearly squeezed the air out of your lungs.

"Hey, Lukey," you replied, returning his hug with a raised eyebrow. Luke's behavior was unusual, and you couldn't help but wonder if something was going on.

As Luke pulled away, he scrutinized your expression. "You've been MIA for a while. School must really have you swamped."

You nodded, not trusting your voice to betray the mix of emotions you were feeling. Luke was perceptive, and you wondered if he had picked up on your recent distance.

Thankfully, Ellen chimed in, rescuing you from the awkward moment. "Well, we're just glad she's here now! Dinner will be ready soon, so you two catch up while I finish up in the kitchen."

With that, Ellen left you and Luke alone, and you couldn't shake the feeling that Luke's sudden warmth and attention meant that something was amiss in the Hughes household.

"What's up?" You cleared your throat, looking at Luke with a knowing expression.

"Well we all know why you've been really gone," Luke sighed as he glared at you. "You don't have to cut us all of just because Jack got a girlfriend."

"Jack got a girlfriend?" That felt like a dagger to the stomach. Luke's expression, once irritated, softened into one of sympathy as he nodded slowly.

"He didn't... tell you?"

You shook your head, struggling to find your voice. A whirlwind of emotions swirled within you – hurt, confusion, and the sting of betrayal. Jack hadn't confided in you about something as significant as this, and it hurt more than you cared to admit.

"Who is she?" you finally managed to ask, your voice a mere whisper.

Luke hesitated, as if debating how much to reveal. "Her name's Nicole," he began cautiously. "They've been dating for a few months now. It's been pretty serious, which is probably why he didn't want to... you know, complicate things."

You listened to Luke's explanation about Jack and Nicole while a storm of emotions raged within you. The pain of knowing Jack was in a serious relationship was difficult to bear, and the fact that he hadn't told you himself only added to your hurt. You felt like an outsider in his life, someone he had pushed aside.

But then, Luke's words took an unexpected turn, and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "But that doesn't matter now, you have to move on and I have the perfect guy for you," he said, his tone surprisingly enthusiastic.

Oh, now everything made sense. It was clear that Luke had an ulterior motive, and you couldn't help but feel a little exasperated. "Luke, I appreciate your concern, but I don't think I'm ready for that kind of thing right now," you replied, trying to be polite even though you didn't appreciate the idea of being set up with one of his friends.

They were all fuck-boys from what you've heard. Luke would go into great detail every time you'd call him for an update. You had heard enough stories about Luke's friends to know that they were often more interested in casual relationships than anything serious.

"They were all fuck-boys from what you've told me," you said with a wry smile. Luke had a tendency to share his escapades in great detail, and you couldn't help but be amused by his candidness.

Luke chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, well, they can be a handful sometimes, but I promise this guy is different. He's actually a pretty decent guy, and I think you'd get along. Would I ever set you up for failure, Y/N?"

You raised an eyebrow, still skeptical. "And what's in it for you, Luke? Why are you so invested in setting me up with your friend?"

Luke's expression shifted, and for a moment, he looked genuinely serious. "Because I hate seeing you like this, distant from the family and hurting because of Jack. I just want you to be happy."

His words touched your heart, and you couldn't help but soften a bit. Luke may have had ulterior motives, but it seemed that his concern for your well-being was genuine.

"And um, well, I have a thing for his cousin." Luke cleared his throat and you couldn't help but playfully roll your eyes.

A playful smile tugged at your lips as Luke admitted his own motives. "Ah, I see how it is. A bit of matchmaking for both of us, then?"

Luke grinned, his boyish charm on full display. "Exactly! We help each other out, and everyone's happy."

You chuckled, feeling a sense of warmth and camaraderie with Luke. "Alright, fine Luke. Jeez, the things I do for you."

Luke laughed, appreciating your willingness to humor him. "You're the best, Y/N. You won't regret it, I promise."

──

Dinner had been ready and Ellen decided dinner would be fun outside. The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the lake, and the sound of crickets filled the air as the family gathered around a long, rustic wooden table set up on the deck, the same one they'd had a decade ago, when you were children.

You took a seat next in between Luke and Jim, Quinn across from you two and Jack nowhere to be found. Before you could ask, your question was answered.

"Where's Jack?" Ellen asked as she sat next to her husband.

"With Nicole," Luke and Quinn had mumbled in response as they both took knowing glances at you. You couldn't help but sigh, would you always be known the girl who's helplessly in love with Jack?

"Wow, you really outdid yourself, Ellen with this chicken. What did you do?" You tried to change the topic with a smile, as you ate dinner.

Ellen beamed at your compliment, clearly pleased that you appreciated her cooking. "Oh, I found it on the TikTok, it was amazing and so easy! You should start making it, it's so easy for school."

The conversation shifted towards discussing recipes and school, and you found it easier to participate in the lighthearted chatter. As the evening went on, you made an effort to focus on the present moment, enjoying the warmth of the Hughes family and pushing aside thoughts of Jack and his new relationship.

After dinner, you and Quinn helped Ellen with the dishes and you found yourself in deep conversation with them. The warmth of their company, along with the shared memories and laughter, made you realize that distancing yourself from the Hughes family wasn't the right course of action. They had been a significant part of your life for so long, and you cherished the bond you shared with them.

You were so engaged in conversation that you didn't hear footsteps that entered the kitchen.

"Hey,"

The sound of the familiar voice calling out "Hey" made your heart skip a beat. You turned around to find Jack standing there, a somewhat sheepish expression on his face. It had been a while since you'd seen him, and the mix of emotions stirred within you once more. And next to him, you assumed to be "Nicole." She looked sweet and you forced a smile at her.

"Hey," you replied, your voice friendly and polite as you acknowledged both Jack and Nicole. You couldn't help but notice the way they stood close to each other, the subtle intertwining of their fingers, and the affectionate glances they exchanged. It was a painful reminder of the gap that had grown between you and Jack.

"Hi, I'm Nicole," she introduced herself with a warm smile.

"Nice to meet you, Nicole. I'm Y/N," you replied, extending a hand for a friendly shake.

"Yeah, I know. These two don't ever stop talking about you." She laughed playfully and you felt heart start beating faster at the prospect of Jack talking about you to his girlfriend.

"Well it was mostly me─" Quinn tried to intervene before you laughed along with her, he was trying to soften the blow.

"Really? Well that's sweet," you replied with a warm smile, even though a small part of you wished Jack would stop talking about you to his girlfriend. It was a complex blend of emotions, wanting to be close to him but also wanting to distance yourself from the heartache.

Ellen smiled, "Well now that you're here, you all can finish the dishes and catch up,"

You nodded, "Okay, sure. Go relax, Ellen."

"Yep, and me." Before you could protest, Quinn left. He certainly didn't want to be there once you started "catching up." You cursed at Quinn in your head as he left the kitchen, alone with Jack and his girlfriend.

The clinking of dishes filled the kitchen as you, Jack, and Nicole worked together on the task at hand. You decided to break the silence with some light conversation.

"So, Nicole, how did you and Jack meet?" you asked, genuinely curious about their relationship.

Nicole smiled, her eyes lighting up. "We actually met at one of his hockey games. My friend had an extra ticket, and I've always been a fan of hockey, so I decided to go. I didn't know I'd end up meeting Jack Hughes in person but now, here we are!"

Jack nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it was a lucky coincidence. We hit it off right away."

"That's so sweet, right out of a book." You laughed and she nodded, blushing. You couldn't help but smile at their story, even though it felt like a bittersweet reminder of what could never be. You were genuinely happy for Jack, and yet, a part of you couldn't help but wish for a different outcome.

Nicole blushed at your comment, clearly smitten with Jack. "Yeah, it does feel a bit like a fairy tale sometimes," she admitted.

"So, Y/N, what have you been up to lately?" Jack cleared his throat, breaking the conversation away from their relationship. You both gazed at one another and you suddenly felt empty. It had never been like this between you two, he never asked what you'd been up to because he always known.

You forced a smile, your chest feeling heavy as you replied, "Oh, you know, just keeping busy with school and spending time with family." It was a vague response, deliberately leaving out the part about missing him. You didn't want to make things awkward, and you certainly didn't want to burden him with your own emotions.

Jack nodded, seemingly accepting your answer. "That's good to hear. School can be pretty demanding, I bet."

"Yeah, it keeps me on my toes," you replied, trying to keep the conversation light. It was becoming increasingly clear that the dynamic between you and Jack had changed, and it was going to take some time to adjust to this new reality.

Before he could respond, Luke came into the kitchen and he immediately looked like he regretted it. He forced a smile, "Um, is there any ice cream in the... fridge?"

You couldn't help but chuckle at Luke's somewhat awkward entrance. It was clear he was trying to give you and Jack some space, even though the tension in the room was palpable.

"Luke, you know where the ice cream is," you replied with a knowing look, amusement dancing in your eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I just... thought I'd ask," Luke stammered before quickly retreating from the kitchen, leaving you, Jack, and Nicole alone once more.

As the last dish was placed in the drying rack, you couldn't help but glance at Jack, his profile highlighted by the soft kitchen light. He turned to you with a smile.

"Anyways, Trevor and Alex are coming tomorrow, you excited to see them?" Jack added with a friendly tone, trying to bridge the awkward gap that had formed during your conversation.

You nodded, appreciating the effort he was making to include you despite the new circumstances. "Yeah, it'd be nice to catch up with them. I haven't talked to 'em in a while."

All three of you exited the kitchen and you went to go find Quinn to give him a lecture. That was until you felt your phone buzz with a text message,

luke my friends are here they wanna meet u

Before you could type your answer, Luke gave you another text.

lukejack and his gf aren't here. just come 😑

You rolled your eyes at his attitude and quickly went to go find him and his friends. You quickly found them by the pool and you opened the sliding door, his friends whipped their heads to take a look at you.

"Hey, Luke," you greeted him with a smile, momentarily ignoring the curious glances. "You wanted me to meet your friends?"

"Well you said yourself you wanted to meet 'em earlier," Luke nodded and you got the memo.

You nodded and smiled, deciding to go along with Luke's plan. After all, it was a chance to distract yourself from the complicated situation with Jack and his new girlfriend. Luke's friends seemed friendly enough, and you were always open to making new acquaintances.

"I'm pretty sure you've met Ethan and Dylan before,"

You nodded politely. You had met them when you had helped him move in a few months ago and they were nice enough. "Yeah, nice to see you guys again."

"Yeah, you too." They replied in union, making you laugh.

"And this is Mark," Luke glanced knowingly at you and you instantly knew that this was the guy who had developed a crush on you.

When Luke introduced Mark, you couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in his friends' expressions. It was clear that Mark's crush on you wasn't a well-kept secret among their group. You offered Mark a friendly smile, wanting to make him feel comfortable despite the awkwardness of the situation.

"Nice to meet you, Mark," you said, extending a hand for a handshake. "Luke's told me a lot about you guys."

Mark's cheeks turned a faint shade of pink as he shook your hand. "Yeah, he's talked about you too."

Luke sat back down and you took a seat next to him, right across from Mark. "Oh does he?" You teased him.

Luke, attempting to play it cool, shrugged nonchalantly. "Just mentioned how nice you are, no big deal."

Ethan and Dylan exchanged knowing glances, trying to suppress their laughter. It was evident to everyone at the table that there was more to Luke's mention than he let on.

"Nice?" You couldn't help but laugh and exchange glances with Mark, a grin on his face. He was cute, you had to admit that. He was exactly your type, he looked sweet and had a cute smile. Maybe Luke was a pretty good matchmaker, so far.

"Yeah, he told us how cool you were. And then he showed us your instagram and all of us fell in love," Ethan mentioned, quickly pausing and glancing at Mark before continuing. "Well not in love but we all thought you were pretty. Well, I mean you are but like-"

"I get it," You laughed at his nervous rambling. You took another glance at Mark and gave him a smile, his cheeks turning even redder (somehow).

The table erupted in laughter, and it was clear that everyone was having a good time. Even Mark seemed to have settled into the friendly atmosphere, and you couldn't deny the chemistry you felt with him. It was lighthearted and fun, a welcome distraction from the complicated feelings you had for Jack.

As the night wore on, you noticed that Ethan, Luke, and Dylan began to exchange glances and sharing quiet conversations. It was clear that they had some sort of plan in mind, and you couldn't help but wonder what they were up to. You decided to play along, knowing that whatever they had in store was likely meant to bring you and Mark closer and anything would help to make you forget about Jack.

"Hey, Mark, do you want to check out the lake?" you suggested, giving him a sweet smile. The lake house had always been a place of fond memories for you, and it would be a great opportunity to spend some time alone with Mark.

Mark's face lit up. "Sure, that sounds like a great idea, let's go."

You excused yourselves from the table, and as you walked towards the sliding glass door that led to the lake, you couldn't help but notice the mischievous smiles on Ethan, Luke, and Dylan's faces. They were clearly up to something, you tried to ignore their expressions.

Once outside, the two of you made your way down to the edge of the lake. The moon reflected on the calm water, casting a romantic glow.

"So, Y/N, tell me more about yourself," Mark began, his voice soft and inviting.

You smiled, feeling a sense of warmth in the cool summer night air. "Well, there's not much to tell, really." You chuckled before continuing, "Just trying to finish up school and move to Europe."

Mark's eyes widened with curiosity. "Europe? That sounds amazing. What's drawing you there?"

You gazed at the shimmering reflection of the moon on the lake, lost in thought for a moment. "I don't know, these past months have been hard. And I never thought about moving out of the states but recently, I just wanna let go and start fresh, you know?"

Mark nodded, understanding what you meant. "I get that, a change of scenery can help with that feeling."

You sighed, feeling a sense of relief in opening up to Mark. "Exactly. I just want to explore new horizons, experience different cultures, and maybe find a new perspective on life."

"I've always wanted to go to France, I know it's basic but I heard they had good hot chocolate and had to try it." Mark smiled down at you and you couldn't help but let out a soft laugh.

"That doesn't sound basic at all," you replied with a grin. "I would love to visit France, even if it is every person's dream."

Mark chuckled, his eyes locked onto yours. "Maybe we can both make our way to Europe someday. Who knows, our paths might cross in a cozy café in Paris."

The idea painted a vivid picture in your mind, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to indulge in the possibility. "That sounds like a dream."

A sudden breeze began to pick up and you felt yourself shiver and Mark noticed. Without saying another word, he took off his jacket and quickly wrapped it around your shoulder.

It was a cliche, you know that. But as you looked at Mark, you felt a sense of warmth that had nothing to do with the jacket. His kindness and consideration made your heart skip a beat, something you hadn't experienced in a while. You smiled at him gratefully, the cool breeze forgotten as you were wrapped in his warmth.

"Thank you, Mark," you said softly, your eyes meeting his. In that moment, under the moonlight by the lake, you felt a connection that was unlike anything you had experienced in a long time.

Mark smiled back at you, his eyes holding a glint of something more. "Anytime, Y/N."

As the night wore on, your conversation with Mark flowed effortlessly, you found yourself drawn further into Mark's world, and the thought of Jack and his complicated situation faded into the background even if only for that night. In Mark's company, you were starting to feel a glimmer of hope for the fresh start you had been yearning for.

──

You awoke with the sound of laughter. Your eyes opened groggily and you felt your back scream in pain and it took a minute to realize exactly where you were.

You laid on Mark's chest, a blanket laid out on the both of you. You were on the couch and the memories of last night quickly flooded back into your head.

"Aww, Marky, you got yourself a girlfriend finally!" Ethan exclaimed as Mark tried to cover your face with the blanket, an (failed) attempt to not to wake you. They hadn't noticed you were awake.

"Ha ha ha, so funny." Mark mumbled in false amusement as he yawned.

You decided to remain quiet, pretending to still be asleep, curious to hear how Mark would handle the situation. A smile stretched your lips as you continued to eavesdrop.

"Seriously though, Mark, she's pretty," Dylan chimed in. "You two looked really cozy last night."

"Yeah, yeah," Mark replied, his tone still somewhat defensive. "We were just talking. You guys are reading too much into it."

"Sure, Mark, whatever you say," Ethan teased, and you could practically hear the grin in his voice. "Just talking, my ass."

"My clothes are still on, right?" Mark groaned quietly. "Could you guys be quiet, she's sleeping."

"Awww, Marky!" Ethan let out a booming laugh and you took that as your cue to 'wake up.'

You let out a yawn and pushed down the blanket from your face and they all quieted down. "Good... morning?"

"You have a good sleep last night?" Ethan teased and you tried to ignore the warm feeling in your cheeks as you got up from the couch. Mark frowned as you got up, feeling his body get cool.

You stretched your arms and stifled another yawn before responding to Ethan's teasing. "Yeah, it was quite comfortable here, actually."

"I bet," Ethan replied as he wiggled his eyebrows and you rolled your eyes.

"Okay, well, I'm going to brush my teeth."

"Wait, let's go eat first." Mark quickly replied, making Dylan and Ethan exchange glances.

"Before... brushing my teeth?" You smiled at that. He was cute, for sure.

"Yeah, Mark, let her go brush her teeth. Knowing what you two did-"

"Shut up," Mark groaned as you let out a chuckle. "Yeah, go brush your teeth."

You nodded and walked away from the living room, quickly ascending up the stairs and into the bathroom. The smile hadn't left your face and you felt like absolutely nothing could ruin your mood.

Well, you were wrong.

As you brushed your teeth happily, you heard the familiar noise in the next room other. The rhythmic banging, the moaning─

Oh no, you thought to yourself. You felt your stomach twist in disgust as let out an audible gag. The room next to the bathroom was Jack's and the only couple in the entire house was Jack and Nicole. You connected the dots and you suddenly felt nauseous.

You spit your paste and quickly rinsed your mouth. You needed to get out of there immediately. As you walked out of the bathroom, you bumped into one person you did not want to see.

"Oh shoot, sorry."

You looked up to see Nicole. She looked tired, her red hair messy and her neck filled with marks. They were obviously busy last night and you tried to push the visual of them having sex out of your mind as you forced a smile. "No, you're totally good."

She smiled and gave your shoulder a pat before walking to the bathroom. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and let your shoulders fall as you walked down the stairs.

You smelled hash browns in the air, your favorite, but somehow you still felt sick to your stomach. The imagery was still stuck in your head, you felt disgusting.

You made your way to the dining table and took a seat next to Quinn, crossing your arms and he immediately knew what was wrong. Your disgusted facial expression, your annoyed attitude, everything.

"They're like fucking bunnies," Quinn mumbled to you and you looked back at him with a nod. He looked tired, too. It looked like they kept him up and you were suddenly grateful you slept downstairs, even with the ache in your lower back. He put a hand on your shoulder in comfort. "Hey, if it makes you better, he lasts about a few minutes. You wouldn't want that."

His unusual teasing tone still didn't make you better, you knew Quinn was trying his best to make you feel better. You forced a smile and nodded, "Yeah. That's gross."

"What's gross?"

You turned your head to see Jack; his disheveled appearance making you gag internally, knowing what you know. You made eye contact for a few seconds before averting your gaze to the table.

"Nothing, buddy." Quinn responded with a smirk and they both exchanged a laugh. Jack then, took a seat right across from you. Now you literally couldn't move your gaze anywhere else without making it obvious.

Quinn seemed determined to keep the mood light, though, and he continued with the banter. "I heard you and Mark spent the night together last night."

There was a pause and a few awkward glances before he continued, "Um, not like that."

Jack looked directly at you and he had unreadable expression on his face. Confusion? Annoyance? Jealousy? Maybe a mix of all three.

"Well, we just-"

Before you continue you heard Ethan and Dylan's booming laughter as they entered the dining room, plates in their hands. They immediately exchanged glances as they realized who was in the room before putting sitting down with their plates.

"Your mom has food in the kitchen, if you guys... want any." Ethan tried to diffuse the tension as he smiled and looked at Dylan. "Mark's in there, Y/N."

As you got up to find Mark, you couldn't help but exchange a glance with Jack. His expression was hard to decipher – there was a mix of emotions, but it was clear that the mention of you spending the night with Mark had affected him in some way. You couldn't dwell on it for too long, though, as you headed to the kitchen to find Mark.

In the kitchen, you found Mark helping himself to some breakfast. He looked up and gave you a warm smile as you entered. "Hey, good morning."

He quickly noticed your expression and he turned to you with confusion, "Everything okay?"

You nodded, trying to shake off the lingering discomfort from the dining room. "Yeah, just... things got a bit awkward in there. Thanks for last night, by the way."

Mark chuckled, handing you a plate of food. "No problem at all. It was fun."

As you both made your way back to the dining room, you couldn't help but wonder what the day had in store for you, especially with the lingering tension between you and Jack.

You sat down next to Quinn as Mark quickly made his way to the empty seat next to you. Finally, everyone started piling into the dining room and everyone started eating.

The atmosphere in the dining room remained tense as everyone continued eating. Nicole was sitting next to Jack and noticed the slight change in him, he seemed more... moody. You tried your best to focus on your plate and engage in conversation with those around you, but it was hard with Jack's presence so close.

As the meal progressed, you felt Jack's gaze on you, a burning sensation that you couldn't ignore. Finally, after a while, Jack spoke up, his tone casual as he said, "So, Y/N, Mark seemed like a nice guy. How long have you known him?"

Mark exchanged a glance between the two of you, choosing peace and continued to eat.

His seemingly innocent question struck a nerve. You knew he was deliberately bringing up Mark to gauge your reaction, and it irritated you. Trying to maintain your composure, you replied, "Just met last night."

Jack's eyebrows raised slightly, a hint of surprise in his expression as he processed your response. It seemed your terse reply had caught him off guard. Mark continued to eat quietly, not wanting to get caught up in the tension.

After a moment of silence, Jack cleared his throat, attempting to sound nonchalant but failing to hide a hint of sarcasm. "Well, you two certainly seemed close for people who just met." Before you could respond, he continued under his breath, "Didn't know you were that easy."

Quinn kicked Jack's leg under the table and Nicole seemed distressed, too.

You bit your tongue. You clenched your fork tightly, your frustration mounting. "We were just having a conversation, Jack. Is that not allowed?"

Jack's gaze didn't waver as he replied, "Of course it is, Y/N. Just making conversation here because apparently I don't know anything about you anymore."

That really struck a move. He didn't know anything about you anymore? Jack's words hit you like a dagger to the heart. The pain and frustration were evident in his tone, and you could sense the turmoil in his emotions. It was clear that your distancing had affected him more than you had realized.

The tension at the table was palpable as everyone watched the exchange between you and Jack. Quinn cleared his throat, trying to mediate. "Guys, can we not do this right now?"

You felt yourself get more heated as you heard Ellen say something but you couldn't even comprehend it, that's how angry you were. Without thinking, you pushed your chair back and got up from the table. Your voice was strained with anger as you addressed Jack.

"Do you have no idea what it's been like for me, Jack?" You couldn't help but raise your voice, your pent-up emotions pouring out. "You just assume things and make stupid comments, but you don't know the half of it. This distance isn't just about you, it's about me trying to protect myself too."

The room was now filled with an uncomfortable silence, and it was clear that your outburst had taken everyone by surprise. Nicole placed a comforting hand on Jack's arm, silently pleading for him to let it go. Mark, too, looked uncomfortable, not wanting to be caught in the middle of this argument.

Jack's expression had shifted from surprise to a mix of anger and hurt as he absorbed your words. He clenched his jaw, clearly struggling to find the right response. Nicole's gentle touch on his arm seemed to be a calming influence, and he took a deep breath before speaking, his voice more controlled.

Ellen, sensing that the situation had become too tense, interjected again, her voice gentle but firm.

"Let's all take a step back, please? Y/N, sweetheart, maybe you could use a little breather, and we can all reconvene when things have calmed down."

You felt embarrassed as you looked around the room, all eyes seemingly on you and Jack. Feeling the weight of everyone's eyes on you, you nodded, your initial anger having dissipated into a mix of regret and awkwardness. You understood that your outburst had been uncharacteristic and uncomfortable with everyone there. With a forced smile, you mumbled an apology.

"Yeah, maybe I do need a little breather. Sorry about that, everyone." You turned away from the table and quickly exited the dining room. Outside, the fresh air greeted you, and you took a moment to collect your thoughts.

As you stood there, lost in thought, you couldn't help but wonder if there was any way to mend the growing rift between you and Jack, or if it was time to accept that things might never be the same again.

You stayed outside and spent the most of the day alone, outside in the pool trying to get a tan. The boys had all been playing pool inside and you were glad alone.

The sun beat down on you as you lounged by the pool, trying to soak in the warmth and forget about the tension from earlier. The sound of laughter from inside the house was a stark contrast to the solitude you sought outside.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to clear your mind. The cool water of the pool offered a refreshing escape from the heat, and you decided to take a dip to cool off and clear your thoughts.

As you swam in the crystal-clear water, you couldn't help but replay the argument with Jack in your mind. It weighed heavily on your heart, and you wondered if there was a way to make amends and rebuild the bond you had once shared.

"Hey,"

You let out a yelp as you heard Mark's voice and he let out a soft laugh as he walked over to the pool, dipping his legs into the pool.

"Hey," you laughed, pushing a wet strand of hair out of your face. "Sorry, you scared me there."

Mark chuckled, the sound light and soothing. "No worries, didn't mean to sneak up on you. Just thought you could use some company."

You appreciated his gesture and nodded. "Thanks, Mark. It's been definitely been a... day."

He nodded in understanding, his gaze sympathetic. "I could tell. The argument with Jack didn't look fun."

You sighed, the weight of it all still pressing on you. "Yeah, it wasn't. Sorry about him throwing you in the middle of it, I don't know what's going on with him."

He stayed quiet as he listened and nodded. You looked at him, waiting for some kind of response. He looked like he was weighing something in his head. "Well... it seems like he's jealous."

Jealous? You blinked in surprise, not expecting Mark to say that. "Jealous? Why would he be jealous?" You knew why, but it hadn't even seemed like a possibility in your mind.

Mark had a thin-lipped smile as he continued, "I mean why else would be an absolute dick about me spending the night with you?"

You stayed quiet, you had no idea how to deal with this. Of course this would happen to you on what was supposed to be a peaceful lake-house trip.

"Can I ask you a question, Y/N? But you have to be 100% honest with me." Mark's tone seemed serious as he spoke and you felt your heart drop. "Have you and Jack ever hooked up? Or like, dated?"

"No," that was the true answer but it looked like Mark hadn't bought it. "Well, I've always liked him." It felt weird to admit that and Mark's expression looked hurt as you continued. "That's why I stopped talking to him. I realized it would never go anywhere and I was still living in my head, it would've never worked out with me and Jack."

Admitting it out loud hurt more than you expected. You would never work out with Jack, no matter how hard you wanted it to.

"You still like him?"

You weighed your options but as you looked at Mark and everything that could happen, you knew the right answer. "No."

──

"Y/N!"

You heard Trevor's excited shout and you turned around, you felt Trevor embrace you tightly. You let out a laugh as he continued hugging you tightly, it had been a couple months since you'd last seen him.

He was always just as close to you as Jack, he was your true best friend. He had been there for you when Jack wasn't.

"Trevor!" You returned his hug with equal enthusiasm, feeling a surge of warmth and happiness at the sight of your close friend.

He pulled away with a big smile on his face, "Wow, why do you actually look good?" He said with a playful flirty undertone, making you laugh.

"Don't know, maybe it's the lack of Jack." As you turned to look behind him, you locked eyes with another close friend, Alex. He smiled and walked up to you; he was definitely the calm one in the friend-group. He gave you a hug before Trevor continued.

He rolled his eyes, "You still on that? Come on, Y/N."

You chuckled at Trevor's playful teasing, realizing that his presence had indeed lifted your spirits. "I can't help it, Trev. It's like a curse or something."

Alex joined in with a gentle laugh. "Well, we're here now, so you don't have to think about Jack for a while."

With your friends around, the atmosphere lightened even further, and you felt grateful for their presence. It was a chance to forget about the tension with Jack and simply enjoy the reunion with your closest friends.

"Oh shit." Alex mumbled, "I forgot my phone in the car,"

"Oh no worries, I'll come with you," you offered, eager to catch up with Alex and have a moment away from the group.

As you both headed to the car, Alex spoke in a hushed tone, "How have you been, Y/N? I know things have been tough."

You appreciated his concern and gave him a small smile. "I've had my ups and downs, but I'm good now. I'm glad you decided to come to the lake house, I've missed you two."

Alex nodded, his expression thoughtful. "We've missed you too. And I know things have changed with Jack, but we're here to support you no matter what."

As you arrived in the hallway, you had no time to respond as you heard yelling in the garage. You and Alex exchanged confused glances as you tried to listen in.

"What, Jack?! What's the excuse now, she literally said she's liked you forever!" You heard Nicole's voice and you felt your heart drop. She heard you in the pool?

You and Alex exchanged concerned glances as you strained to hear the conversation in the garage. Nicole's voice had a tone of frustration, and it was evident that she was upset about something. The mention of your feelings for Jack made your heart race.

Jack's voice responded, his tone defensive. "Nicole, it's not that simple. Y/N and I have a complicated history, okay?"

Nicole sounded exasperated as she retorted, "Complicated history? Jack, she's moved on. Why can't you?"

Their voices grew louder, and you could feel the strain in their relationship even from a distance. It was clear that your presence had stirred up emotions and issues between them, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt.

As you leaned in closer to the door, it suddenly opened and you and Alex jumped.

The sudden opening of the door startled both you and Alex, and you found yourself face to face with a frustrated-looking Nicole. Her eyes widened in surprise at seeing you eavesdropping on their argument.

"Y/N..." Nicole began, her voice trailing off as he seemed at a loss for words.

You quickly glanced at Alex, who was equally taken aback by the unexpected confrontation.

"I'm so sorry, Nicole, I didn't know that you heard me and I promise you I would never, ever try anything while you were with Jack-"

She cut you off with a forced smile, "I get it. It's not your fault." She sneered at Jack before continuing. "It's not your fault Jack can't get over his childhood crush."

"Nicole, let's not do this here," Jack said, his voice tinged with frustration. He glanced at you and Alex before turning back to her. "We'll talk later, okay?"

"There is no later! I'm done." She yelled back at him, her eyebrows furrowing in utter anger. "You already made your decision, it was either me or her and we all know your choice. I won't be a second choice, Jack. I've been second to her our entire relationship and I just met her, can you imagine how I've felt?"

The raw pain in Nicole's eyes was impossible to ignore, and it was clear that she had reached her breaking point. Her outburst had laid bare the insecurities and frustrations that had been festering beneath the surface, and it left everyone in the room with a heavy sense of unease. You could see the hurt in her eyes, and it was clear that their relationship had reached a breaking point. You couldn't help but feel guilty, was it your fault?

While you knew you weren't responsible for the choices Jack had made in his relationship, it was impossible not to wonder if your presence had somehow worsened the situation. You had never intended to come between them or cause any harm.

You exchanged a glance with Alex, who looked equally uncomfortable with the situation. The unease in the room was palpable, and there were no easy answers to the complex emotions and dynamics at play.

Jack's shoulders slumped, and he looked defeated. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. It was a painful silence, and you could feel the weight of the history and emotions between Jack and Nicole.

Finally, he managed to speak, his voice soft and filled with regret. "I'm so sorry, Nicole. I never meant for any of this to happen-"

Nicole didn't respond. She simply turned and walked away, leaving Jack standing there, his face etched with a complex mix of emotions.

Jack ran a hand through his hair before he quickly pushed past you and Alex to run after Nicole. "Fuck, baby please listen!"

You and Alex exchanged looks before he sighed heavily, "Wow. What the hell did me and Trev miss."

"You have no idea," you sighed as you began walking to his car for the thing you had came in there for.

──

You sat next to Mark as you both dangled your feet in the water, everyone was outside and it finally felt like relaxing trip. It finally felt like the lake house; no drama (for the most part), cool summer air, and all your close friends in one place.

Sitting by the water with Mark, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. The drama from earlier had dissipated, and you were grateful for the opportunity to unwind with your friends. The cool breeze, the soothing sounds of the lake, and the laughter of your friends created a serene atmosphere that allowed you to momentarily forget about the complexities of your relationships.

You turned to Mark and offered a genuine smile. "Thanks for being here today, Mark. It means a lot."

He returned your smile warmly. "Of course, Y/N. I'm here whenever you need someone to talk to or just hang out with."

As the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, you found yourself leaning in closer to Mark. His presence felt comforting and reassuring. You locked eyes with him, and there was a shared understanding between you.

In that moment, you realized that Mark had become more than just a friend. He was someone who had been there for you, who had listened, and who had shown you support when you needed it, something you hadn't experienced from any partner. And perhaps, in the midst of all the chaos, you had found something unexpected: the possibility of a new beginning.

As your faces drew nearer, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that quiet, starlit moment. It was a moment of choice, a moment where you could let go of the past and embrace the future.

With a gentle, lingering touch, your lips met Mark's, and for that brief, stolen moment, it felt like the world was right where it should be.

Then it felt wrong. You pulled away and you turned your head almost instinctively and there he was. Jack, standing there, watching the scene unfold.

The shock on Jack's face was undeniable, and it was as if time had frozen in that moment. His presence shattered the tranquility that had enveloped you and Mark, leaving an awkward and tense silence in its wake.

Mark pulled away from you slowly, his expression a mix of surprise and uncertainty. You could feel your heart racing, caught between the past and the present, between the familiarity of Jack and the newfound connection with Mark.

Jack scoffed and walked away, leaving your heart shattered; like he always did. As you began to get up, Mark gripped your arm. You looked down at him and found yourself at crossroads.

Mark or Jack? Mark or Jack? Mark: the sweetest boy with the sweetest smile, or Jack: the person you'd loved your entire life.

You knew the answer. Everyone knew the answer. You moved your arm from his grip and got up, leaving him seated in the pool. You ran after Jack and it suddenly hit you. He'll always have this power over you, his beautiful smile always had this effect on you.

It made you nauseous as you tried to find where he was, like you always did. He would always pick someone else and you always had to pick him, that was just how it worked.

You ran after Jack, your heart pounding in your chest. The familiar ache of chasing after someone who always seemed just out of reach gnawed at you. It was a pattern you had repeated countless of times, a dance of longing and rejection that you couldn't seem to break free from no matter how hard you tried.

As you searched for him, you couldn't help but feel a sense of desperation. You knew that choosing Jack meant choosing the same cycle of heartache, but it was a choice you had made so many times before. His smile, his presence, his history with you—it all had a hold on you that was impossible to shake.

Finally, you spotted him by the edge of the lake, his silhouette illuminated by the moonlight. He turned to look at you, his expression a mix of surprise and uncertainty, as if he couldn't believe you had chosen him once again.

You didn't say anything as you approached him. Words felt meaningless in that moment. Instead, you simply reached out and took his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and with that simple gesture, you made your choice.

It might have been the same old pattern, the same old dance, but it was your choice to make, and for now, it was the one that felt right.

As you looked into his eyes, the same ones you'd adored since day one, you felt deja vu. You felt angry; how could one person have such control over you? In the depths of his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own emotions, a turbulent mix of desire, frustration, and longing. It was a maddening feeling, to be so deeply ensnared by someone who seemed to hold all the power in your relationship.

The moonlight cast a soft glow on both of you as you stood by the lake, hand in hand, the weight of your choice settling in. It was a choice that defied reason and logic, a choice that defied the very patterns you had tried to break free from. But for now, it was your choice, and you would face the consequences, whatever they may be, with Jack by your side.

You felt an unexpected sob ripple from your chest and you ripped your hand from his, covering your mouth with your hand. You closed your eyes and you felt Jack pull you closer, into his chest.

As the sobs wracked your body, you felt Jack's arms around you, offering a comforting embrace. It was a mixture of relief and hurt, the weight of your choice bearing down on you. You had chosen to follow your heart, even if it meant stepping into the same cycle of uncertainty and longing.

Jack held you tightly, his own emotions undoubtedly conflicted, but in that moment, it was a silent understanding between the two of you. The night was still, and the moon illuminated the path you had chosen, as well as the challenges that lay ahead.

"It's okay, shh. I'm... here now, I'm sorry." He mumbled as he planted a kiss on your head.

You felt such anger in your stomach as he said those words so easily. Was it okay? Was he really here, with you? Was he truly sorry. You pushed him away and you saw him fumble back, hurt in his eyes as you fell on to your knees, taking a seat on the cold sand of the lake.

The anger, the hurt, the confusion, it all swirled within you as you sat there on the cold sand, tears streaming down your face. You couldn't make sense of your emotions, and Jack's words, well-intentioned as they might have been, didn't provide the solace you needed.

Jack remained a few steps away, watching you with a pained expression, unsure of how to bridge the gap between you. The silence between you was heavy, filled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

"Do you know..." You sniffled, looking up at him with tears in your eyes. You didn't even know where to begin. "I've spent my entire fucking life pining after you. Every single moment has been dedicated to the great Jack fucking Hughes, did you know that?"

Your bitter words felt like a dagger to the heart to the both of you. You continued, "I always choose you. I always fucking choose you!" You screamed out angrily, as Jack flinched. He'd never seen you this angry in his entire life.

"Why do I always choose you? You're like every other guy in the world." Your tears streamed down your face. "But you're special to me," you mumbled as Jack's breathing became heavy with emotion. "You always choose everyone else but me. I never knew why." You were just rambling at this point but you would be lying if you said it didn't feel good.

You looked up at Jack. "I watched you fall for people who didn't see you the way I did, who didn't know you the way I did, and I stood there, invisible, as you gave your heart to them."

Your words cut deep, each one a painful reminder of the years of unrequited love and longing.

"And then," you whispered, your voice barely audible, "when I finally thought it might be my turn to finally be with someone who actually liked me, who wanted me, I choose you again." Your voice cracked as you mentioned Mark.

You wiped away fresh tears, and the pain in your eyes was palpable. "It hurts, Jack. It hurt more than I can put into words. But I still chose you, again."

A sob caught in your throat, and you continued, your words heavy with emotion. "I've cried myself to sleep, wondering why I wasn't good enough for you, why you never saw me the way I saw you. And every time you got hurt, I was right there with you, helping and being there." You paused. "And when I was hurt, where the fuck were you? Probably with some girl who never knew you like I did. Who will never know you like I do."

Jack's eyes were filled with remorse, and you could see the pain in his expression, but you couldn't stop now. You had to let it all out.

"I convinced myself that if I just kept waiting, if I just kept choosing you, someday you'd see me for who I was, you'd choose me. But it never happened, Jack. It never happened, and it broke my heart a little more every day."

Your voice broke again as you sniffled, "I've missed out on so much because of you," you continued, your voice trembling with emotion. "I've given up on amazing opportunities, on people who genuinely cared about me, all because I thought someday you'd choose me too."

Jack took a seat beside you, the weight of your words sinking in. You didn't fight it, you were too tired.

The lake's gentle waves lapped against the shore, providing a soothing backdrop to the turmoil of emotions swirling around both of you. He didn't say anything for a while, the silence between you heavy with unspoken regret.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice soft and filled with remorse. "I didn't know. I didn't mean to... hurt you."

You turned to look at him, your eyes meeting his. You saw the sincerity in his gaze, but it was accompanied by a sense of helplessness. It was as if he had finally realized the depth of the pain he had caused you.

"I couldn't like you, Y/N." It sounded harsher than it actually was as he continued. "I just couldn't. You were too good, Y/N, you are a sweetheart. I was scared to taint you, and I would've never forgiven myself if I did..."

"Taint me?" You scoffed, pain in your tone. "You tainted me the moment you met me, Jack."

Those words hung in the air as he swallowed, taking your words into consideration. "I'm so sorry, Y/N," he whispered, his voice filled with remorse. "I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted any of this."

You sighed, the anger and frustration slowly giving way to a sense of resignation. It was a complicated situation, and both of you had made mistakes along the way. "I know, Jack. I know you didn't."

In that moment, you both shared a painful understanding of the past and the choices that had brought you to this point. You would always choose him, and he'd always choose them. But as he put his hand on top of yours, your body entire body felt like it was on fire.

As you looked into Jack's eyes, you saw a mixture of emotions - regret, longing, and a hint of hope. It was as if he, too, was wrestling with the undeniable connection that had always existed between you.

"I'm not saying it'll be easy, Y/N," he murmured, his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of your hand. "But maybe... just maybe, we can find a way to make this work."

His words hung in the air, and for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to entertain the possibility of a future with Jack, a future where you didn't have to choose between him and anyone else.

Maybe all of that pining wasn't for nothing. Maybe in the end, he would have chosen you. But would you choose him? Could you finally resist him?

As you sat there, the gentle breeze ruffling your hair and the quiet waters of the lake before you, you contemplated Jack's words. The years of pining and longing, the heartaches and frustrations, all seemed to converge in this one moment.

Maybe, just maybe, this was the moment where the tides would turn, and you could choose a different path, one that didn't revolve around Jack. But the choice was yours to make, and it wouldn't be easy. You knew the allure of Jack, the history you shared, and the magnetic pull between you two would always be there.

For now, you decided to savor the night, knowing that the future held uncertainties and challenges, but also the potential for something beautiful. As you gazed at the moonlit lake, you couldn't help but wonder what lay ahead and what choices you would make when the time came.

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