#here is part 2! hope you guys enjoyed it! this was fun to write :)
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acid-ixx · 2 days ago
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last night, i just had a terrible nightmare where someone sent in a really long ask that was straight up hating and criticizing every part of my writing. calling out the insecurities/faults, plot inconsistencies, and insulting my writing style—
which i admit: yeah, it's wordy and really long, sometimes i focus too much on one scene or on the emotions solely, and i focus on every single detail; i'm a very emotional and hypersensitive person who likes to overanalyze on the scenes and characters. i acknowledge that it's unconventional and unprofessional at times; but it's what makes me happy and it's up to readers to continue reading or not despite the length. it's my own writing, i write content for free and everything i post are indulgent on my part, hence why i explicitly state i don't really wish for constructive criticism since again, it's all for free and it's all done for fun.
though, in that dream, it came to the point where the ask straight up told me i should just quit writing, that whatever i'm writing for is utter trash (overrated, it says. there are better writers out there and, yeah, i agree. i've the passion and drive but not so much for talent) and not worth the effort to read. so i did what was told and deactivated my account and went on to never write anymore fanfics after just how shaken up i was, then i woke up HAHAHAH.
and it genuinely felt so real, ngl. i couldn't get it off of my mind even until now, so here i am rambling about it. sorry if anyone expected me to post a drabble, or a fanfic; but right now i need more time to ponder upon whether or not i should change my writing style 'cause chapter five pt 2 will be posted soon but it's longer and who knows? maybe my worst nightmare may come true if i post it and it's subpar, not up to expectation.
and if people don't really wish for something long that borders on boring or filler scenes, then maybe, maybe not i will change how i write (but i probably won't lmao). either way, i have to remind myself that i am writing for myself, and posting it to simply archive in this account. i just hope people won't be as cruel as that mystery person in my dreams if i ever do
it's genuinely the audience's choice to read my works or not if the length or style bothers them. and as entitled as i may sound, i wish to remind some that writing a chapter with more than 10k words is my choice, and it's an arduous process too that takes hours of my time. writing fanfics is for me is purely indulgent and are reflections of my real life experiences, if it's lengthy, then yes i chose it to be, but it's not like i'm writing a thesis or an essay, i'm writing a goddamn fanfic with stereotypical tropes (most especially yandere) because it what makes me enjoy my passion as an author.
i apologize again for the long ramble, i really just need this out of my thoughts. this is my own blog too so yeah 😭. if you guys follow me solely for my fanfics, then filter out the "🍨... yael's talking" tag if you wish to avoid these types of talks.
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the-universal-sun · 16 hours ago
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little!stan crying for his mama on hanukkah with cg ford and/or fidds?
Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Happy First Day of Hanukkah! I set this to post at 8 am but it looks like I set it wrong, my apologies! Thank you so much to this lovely anon for the idea of Stan crying over his mother, this helped me form the direction of the drabble-the part that kept stumping me and to @thehessianslady for the sweater idea! I enjoyed writing this so much, and I hope you all enjoy reading this!
I hope you guys had a lovely holiday/will have a lovely holiday, but to any who are struggling or are feeling alone right now, know that I am always in your corner. I will always believe in you and I will always be proud of any of your accomplishments, little or small, nothing is insignificant. I am always open to talk if you need someone, for anything. To vent, rant, or to just chat so you have something to do! I am always here for you guys, and I thank you all for giving me so much love and support!
I truly AM sending all of you all the Love in the entire world!
XOXO
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     The winter air was crisp and freezing outside the Shack, wind howling against the windows, promising frostbite for any who dared to venture out unprepared. Inside, however, was warm and cozy, the scent of cinnamon mixing in an oddly delightful way with the scent of potatoes. The soft glow of twinkling lights and flickering candles lit up the living room of the Shack-a fun mix of Christmas and Hanukkah decorating the space. Stan sat on the floor, bundled in a sweater two sizes too big for him, a homemade gift by Fiddleford. It was matching Ford's, both sweaters reminiscent of their childhood Dreidal sweater, but softer and with snowflakes adorning the ends. Stan had begged and begged for his twin to wear the sweater, giving him his patented Puppy Dog Eyes and wobbling his lips for added effect. It worked like a charm, Ford being weak to Stan when he was feeling small. Too bad Fidds didn't want to wear his special sweater that he picked out himself. Stan smiled widely and giggled as he built and knocked over his new blocks, Poindexter sat next to him and his new friend, an Oppossum he named "Shanklin 2". He woke up to so many presents for him; presents for when he's small and presents for when he's big! Stan thinks he loves Christmas if he's getting gifts just for being good. And he got to play with his new toys all day long, neither Sixer or Fidds telling him to grow up or anything. He felt free-free to play and to indulge in his fuzzy mindset, the holiday spirit soothing him and wrapping around him like a warm blanket. The only thing that's missing is an ugly sweater on Fidds and his Ma'. Except he can't talk to his Ma', not now when he knows the old man's home, surrounded by the super annoying aunties and uncles who were probably told to shun him back when he was kicked out. His head's too fuzzy and small to talk to her now anyways, his tongue not wanting to move to speak right, if he managed to say anything, he'd probably sound like a baby. Or drunk.
     Stan shakes his head to get rid of those sad and grown-up thoughts, grabbing his sippy cup half full of warmed cocoa-he can't stand to wait for hot drinks to cool down, burning his tongue too many times but never learning his lesson-and trying to focus on everything else. The pretty lights and ornaments in their tree-he's never had a Christmas tree before, Stan got to help decorate it and he even was allowed to put the star on! The Menora and the first two candles, the flames looking super pretty against the rainbow-colored Christmas Lights. He let it all wash over him, feeling his head get fuzzier and fuzzier, feeling even smaller than before. He chews on the straw of his sippy before a six-fingered hand replaces it with a pacifier; he giggles when the fingers tickle his chin before ruffling his hair. Stan feels so warm and happy right now, happier than he's been in forever.
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     "Merry Christmas, Fidds," Ford said, clinking his glass of cooled-down hot chocolate-he can never wait for drinks to cool down-against Fiddleford's piping hot glass. He had never felt so peaceful this time of year, always surrounded by fast-moving and loud noises during the season, family he hadn't seen in a year pinching his cheeks and giving him wet kisses. And when he left for college, he stopped celebrating entirely-aside from that one Krampus incident with Fidds a few years back-having no desire to surround himself with noisy relatives, to sit beside an empty chair. But this year is different, he's with his friend and Lee, and it's just the three of them in their little shack, it's peaceful and nice. Being here and in the moment with the two closest people in his life, fills him up with such a fiery warmth that his heart aches and his breath gets caught in his chest; he can't stop smiling and laughing, even when all that's happening is Lee staring at the lights, that's how all-encompassing his happiness is. Ford couldn't ask for a better first Christmas.
     "Happy Hanukkah, Ford, Lee." It was the first night of Hanukkah, a holiday Fiddleford's never celebrated, growing up Southern Baptist and all, so the traditions are all a bit new to him. Thankfully, as Ford and Stan both told him, it's just the three of them so there's no nosy fourth cousins to tell him he's not lighting the candles at the right angle or saying the Shehecheyanu wrong. He sat up, going to the kitchen to bring out the little gift he's been making for Ford and Stan; Sufganiyot. He's been working on the recipe he found in Ford's things-their mother's recipe he reckons-for a week now, and Fiddleford believes this batch to be a success. He knows neither of the men have had it for over a decade, but with how they're establishing all these new traditions in the house, he thinks it'd be nice to have an old one.
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     Stan, who's been watching to doorway since Fidds left, perks up when he returns. He wiggles in his spot, hoping he's bringing another present or another tasty treat. He's been eating lots of them today, Latkes and gingerbread cookies and cinnamon pancakes, but he can't help but want more-Fidds' cooking was so good! Better than Ford's at least. He clapped lightly when Fidds came back in with a plate full of something he couldn't see from the floor. He gets to his feet, grabbing Poindexter and Shanklin 2, and walks towards Fidds, but Ford guides him to the couch instead, ignoring his pout and hand rubbing his stomach so desperately. Stan's starving, he deserves to have first dibs on the food!
     "Don't give me that look, Lee, you just had dinner an hour ago, you can wait a few more seconds before you have dessert." Ford takes his pacifier and taps the corners of his lips, getting a smile and giggle out of Stan. Ford laughs too, slinging a warm arm over his shoulder and pulling him in for a big and warm hug. Ford's hugs always make Stan melt, he feels so safe and protected, like nothing can come and get him and hurt him or scare him, not with his brother there to protect him from the outside world. It brings nice squiggly feelings to Stan's tummy, Ford's hugs, and sometimes those feelings make Stan wiggle in place from how nice they are. Like now, he relishes in Ford's and Fidds' breathy laughs as he wiggles under Ford's arm. The wiggles intensify when Fidds brings the plate closer to them, getting a good look at the delicious morsel he made them. Stan gasps with excitement. He made Suf-Sufgina-
     "Fiddleford, you made Sufganiyot?! Where'd you even find a recipe for that?" Yeah, that word Sixer said! Ma' made it all the time back-back in Jersey. How did Fidds know to make it for Hanukkah? Stan thinks he must be psychic or something, how else would he know and find a recipe?
     "Well, m'a bit ashamed t'say that I found it riflin' through your stuff. I assumed your mom must've sent it, so I'm sorry if it tastes piss poor in comparison." Fiddleford blushes, rubbing a foot on the ground and looking down, not meeting their eyes. Stan just giggles, Fidds said "piss".
     "Nonsense, F, I'm sure it's fine. If this is what you've spent all week in that kitchen working on, then they'll be great. Right, Lee?" Stan nods absentmindedly, almost drooling over the plate of Suf-goodies. They smelled so good, he needed to eat one right at this very moment. He looked pleadingly at Ford, pouting and whining, ignoring his and Fidds' conversation. He dives right in when he gets simultaneous nods, scrambling for the powdered-sugar-coated goodness. He takes one and shoves it in his mouth, doing happy wiggles at the taste. Fidds was so good at cooking, it tasted just like Mama's! Stan hasn't tasted this in ages, he forgot how good they were! He knows if Mama were here now she'd be fussing at him for being messy, wiping the powdered sugar off his cheeks with a wink. Sometimes Sixer does that, mostly Fidds, but it's not the same as when Mama did it. She'd probably get on to them about the wrapping paper still in the living room, making them clean it up before getting dessert. He misses her, now more than ever. Phone calls every month or so can only do so much. Stan feels his lips quivering, he hasn't cried over her in years, but something about this day, about tasting her recipe, he can't help it.
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     "Lee, are you alright? You're crying. Is-is something the matter?" Ford's looking back and forth between Stan and the dessert, glaring at the Sufganiyot as if it was personally responsible for making Stan cry. Both he and Fidds startle when Stan gives a hiccup, his crying-silent up to now-beginning to have noise, sniffling, hiccups, and sobs emanating from Stan-the dessert plate having been moved from his lap at some point-as he curls over his lap, fisted hands rubbing his eyes. "Lee, come on. What's the matter, you were fine just a moment ago," here Ford pauses, hands hovering over Stan as he thinks. This is the first holiday they've celebrated together in over 12 years, a decade of holidays Stan spent alone and probably cold. Taking a deep breath, still unused to emotional talk, Ford asked, "Was it a bad thought, Lee? Some nasty thought ringing around in there?" Ford softened his voice like Fiddleford does, bringing a hand up to rub Stan's back, patting it to help dislodge a cough or two. He's not good at talking about emotions, at not being dismissive of emotions, but he's getting better. And these are Stan's emotions, not his, he's more open when it comes to helping his brother than he is when confronting his own issues.
     "Ma'..." Stan whimpered between sobs, his small and croaking voice cracking Ford's heart. He's missing their mother...It's understandable, really, Stan may have talked to her a few dozen times over the years, but he hasn't seen her since he was kicked out, hasn't had the nerve to, not with their father still kicking around up there. And with Fiddleford making her dessert while Stan was in his headspace during this holiday, all these big emotions must have collided with each other, causing Stan's tears. Ford goes to quickly console Fiddleford, to tell him that it wasn't his fault, because if he still knows his friend, he knows that he'd blame himself. He was right, Fiddleford looks absolutely downtrodden, his lips and brow furled down into the deepest frown Ford has ever seen on the man-rivaling his expression when he's furious.
     "Oh, St-Stan I'm so sorry-"
     "Nope. This is not your fault, Fiddleford, and it's not yours either, Stanley. We are not playing the blame game, not on Hanukkah. Fidds, Stan misses our mother, he hasn't seen her since he was 17, there was always a possibility that he'd cry today given the timing and his headspace-I should have accounted for that." Ford quickly assures Fiddleford, needing him to know how much it is not his fault. He turns back to face Stan, who's still crying but at least is looking up at him, "Stanley, it is completely okay to cry over missing Ma', it's been years since you've seen her and you're in a more sensitive headspace right now. So please don't call your tears stupid," here Ford wipes a tear trailing down Stan's face away, "they never are. I'll tell you what, first thing tomorrow morning, I'll call Ma' to get her alone, maybe to a pay phone, and then I'll put you on, feeling small or not, and we'll explain to her that we've made up and are living together, sound good?" Ford may be rushing this whole "consoling" business, but they've been having such a good day all day, which is a rarity with the three of them, and he wants to keep the good mood going. Usually, this would be Fiddleford's job, but Ford figures he can, in the spirit of the season and his friend's own feelings of guilt, be the uplifting and guiding person today. He wipes more of Stan's tears, bopping his nose to earn a smile out of him-that action always does-and brushing his hair back.
     "Now," Fiddleford's weak voice came a few minutes later from his place kneeling in front of Stan, "Is there anything we-anything I can do to cheer you up, Sugar Plum?" Ford knew that was the worst question to ask as soon as he saw Stan's lips curl, tears drying on his face but slowly stopping with the comfort of his caregivers. Ford knew this smirk well-it was the type reminiscent of the old Grinch movie they watched as children. It promised mischief. That look soon transformed into a teary eyes and a begging look, his brother even clasping his hands together with a pout. Ford had to give it to Stan, small or not, he knew how to play Fidds for a sucker. He burst out laughing as soon as he hears Stan voice, his tone quiet and childish but adorable, his request.
     "The sweater." Fiddleford's face dropped dramatically, but he was no match to Stan's puppy eyes. With a distraught look towards Ford, he heaved himself up and trudged off to his bedroom.
     Ford's suddenly glad to be wearing a matching sweater with Stan because Fiddleford comes out a moment later dressed in the ugliest sweater Ford had ever seen. It had lights, some form of discombobulated configuration of what he believes to be Rudolph, and a "HU HU HU" sewn into it over a dozen times. It physically hurt him to see. It physically hurt Fidds to wear, if the pained and cringing grimace was anything to go by, the wool looked incredibly itchy.
     But Stan was happy, smiling and clapping, wiggling around in what Ford and Fidds have deemed his "happy dance", so Fiddleford can suck it up. In the spirit of the holiday season.
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gothcsz · 3 months ago
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Body Language | Pornstar!Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | Part 2 to this bad boy right here | ~8.2k wc | Series Masterlist | Explicit. Minors DNI.
Summary: Caught in a charged and unexpected moment with Javier Peña, you struggle between resisting his relentless seduction and giving in to the tension that has been building since the last shoot.
Tags: smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, no use of Y/N, reader is shorter than javier but other than that no physical descriptions, some dirty talk, semi-public sex (we're in an elevator this time around), reader really doesn't like javi, steve being steve, other shit i’m probably forgetting.
A/N: this was supposed to be a short lil thing but then my ass had to drag it out just a little because their dynamic is very fun to write 😭 he's like whyyy don't you like me and she's like how much time do you have? lmfao. this is dedicated to @auteurdelabre 🖤 #1 pornstar javi stan, i almost submitted this for your trope off but decided to save that honor for my other story! anyways, i hope you guys enjoy javier begging to eat you out 🥂 let me know what you think 🖤 mandatory mutual tags: @almostempty / @miss-oranje-disco-dancer
You sit in the cramped waiting room outside of Robbie’s office, the stale air clinging to your skin as you shift uncomfortably in the worn-out chair. The place is too quiet, save for the muffled sounds of the city outdoors.
You glance at the clock on the wall, anxiety creeping up your spine. You have a shift at the bar in an hour, and time is slipping through your fingers. The laundry, the groceries, the endless list of errands— it all piled up today, and now you’re cutting it too close.
But you need this check. It’s the only reason you’re here, tapping your foot in impatience. If you don’t get it today, the money won’t hit your account in time to cover rent, and you really don’t want another lecture from your landlord. It’s bad enough you’re already behind— no need to give him more ammunition to chew you out.
You sigh and lean back, eyes closing as you try to drown out the frustration swirling in your head. That’s when you hear the unmistakable ding of the elevator down the hall and turn your head to see who’s joining.
Your stomach drops and you sit up straight. No. Not now. The air feels heavier, thick with that familiar irritation, as the slow, deliberate sound of boots against the tile grows louder. 
Javier Peña.
Just the thought of him sends a hot wave through your being, a mix of irritation and something else you refuse to acknowledge. You don’t want to think about that last shoot, the one where things shifted. Where shit got weird. You behind the camera, filming as always, while he was balls deep in another woman, claiming you were on his mind.
“Bet you’d look just as pretty like this, nena.”
“Did you like what you saw? Like watching the way I fucked her but was thinking of you the whole time?”
It was like he’d stripped you bare with just a few words, leaving you more exposed than them in the midst of their carnal fucking. And the worst part? You’d been affected by it. Skin on fire, pussy wet. It also didn’t help that Steve had heard it too. The mic catching the flirting, the hitch of your breath getting stuck in your throat, clear as day.
He’d asked you about it later at Lucky’s, as promised, all smug and drinking that God-awful beer. But you’d brushed him off, hoping he’d drop it. Thankfully, he had— for the most part— but you could still feel his restlessness, wanting to stir the pot.
Now, Javier is here, of course, because the universe just loves to mess with you. You roll your eyes and cross your arms, leaning back against the chair in defiance. You refuse to look at him. You won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he gets under your skin. 
His footsteps stop just a few feet away, the weight of his presence impossible to ignore. You can feel him looking at you, feel the weight of his brown eyes like a physical thing as they rake over your body.
You keep your gaze glued to the wall, focusing on the ugly, generic painting hanging there like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.
“You gonna act like you don’t see me?” His voice is deep, smooth, and frustratingly cocky, just like always. 
You grit your teeth, biting back a response. You won’t give him an inch. Not again. This motherfucker will take a mile.
“Okay, so that’s what we’re doing.” Before you can react, he plops down beside you. You stiffen immediately, moving your crossed knees to the side, angling yourself away from him, as if the few inches of space will protect you from the onslaught of whatever the hell he’s about to say next.
He spreads his thighs wide, his posture screaming obnoxious confidence. You just barely catch a glimpse of his bulge pressing up against his left thigh and how the fuck does it look so big even when he’s soft? “You know,” he says, voice dripping with that lazy, arrogant drawl, “you’re the only woman that treats me like this, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why.”
You snort, the sound sharp and humorless. You still don’t bother looking at him.
Javier frowns, flitting his tongue across the top row of his teeth. “Is it because I came off too strong the first time we met? ‘Cause if that’s the case; then I’m sorry. Can’t help myself from flirting with pretty little things like you.”
You roll your eyes so hard, it’s a wonder they don’t fall out of their sockets. He doesn’t sound sincere at all.
Thing is, you didn’t mind the flirting. Even if he, like he’s so romantically put it, does flirt with pretty little things all the time; it did make you feel like just that. Pretty. It’s what came after that soured your Javier Peña experience.
He huffs, like a petulant child, frustrated by your silence. You don’t give him the satisfaction of even a glance. Instead, you shift in your seat, your mind racing, wondering what the hell is taking Robbie so damn long. He never works, barely lifts a finger unless there’s money or something else in it for him, and now, suddenly, he’s busy? Yeah, right. He’s probably in his office jerking it to one of his films, getting off on his own work. Typical.
You’re done waiting. With a sharp movement, you stand, startling Javier, though you still don’t give him the time of day. He’s used to women catering to his every whim, hanging on his every word. You aren’t going to be one of them. Not even if he did manage to get you all hot and bothered.
You stalk over to the door and knock harder than necessary. “I’m busy,” his voice grumbles through the wooden surface, and you resist the urge to scream.
“And I need my check. Just slide it under the door or something,” you snap, the urgency in your voice making it clear that you’re not in the mood to get fucked around with.
There’s a pause, followed by the sound of shuffling papers before the door cracks open just enough for Robbie to stick his hand out, an envelope clutched between his fingers. He practically shoves it into your hand before slamming the door shut again.
You stand there for a moment, staring at the envelope with your name scrawled across the front. Surrounded by imbeciles. Just one shift to get through tonight, and then maybe, just maybe, you can get some peace. Enjoy the first weekend off you’ve had in months.
Now that you have what you came for, you spin on your heel and stride down the hallway, ignoring the handsome pornstar still lounging in the chair behind you. From your peripheral, you can see him sitting there, skinny jean clad legs spread, looking all annoyingly sexy without even trying. It would be so much easier if he were ugly— or literally anyone else. But no, it’s Javier fucking Peña, with his ridiculous good looks and that cocky smirk that could probably charm the panties off half the city if he wanted to (it probably has, to be honest).
You mentally map out the next hour: hit the bank, dash home to change, then off to work. You could walk to the bank, maybe catch a taxi home if you’re lucky. But with traffic in this city, luck isn’t really on your side. You start considering your options— do you skip changing and just head to work as you are? Would your other boss even care if you showed up a little underdressed? You’re so lost in your thoughts, focused on cutting corners to save time, that you don’t hear the quiet footsteps behind you.
It’s not until the elevator dings and you step inside that you realize you’re not alone. Javier’s slipped in just before the doors close, sliding smoothly into the cramped space beside you. The sudden proximity makes your heart do this stupid little jump, and you curse yourself for it. You’re trapped now— stuck way too close to him in the tiny metal box.
The air feels charged, his presence impossible to ignore yet again. The smell of his aftershave hits you first— spicy, with a hint of something woodsy, layered under the scent of his leather jacket and the faint, lingering whiff of cigarette smoke. He tries to drown it out with minty gum, but it’s still there, clinging to him like an old habit. And damn it, your knees go a little weak, despite your best efforts to stay cool.
The height difference between you is glaringly obvious now. You’re eye level with the habitually open portion of his cream colored shirt, the buttons undone just enough to give a peek at his brown chest. It’s frustrating how effortlessly he pulls off the whole rugged look— like he doesn’t even try, but somehow manages to look better than most men who spend hours on it.
You swallow hard, trying to focus on anything but the fact that you can smell him, that you can feel the heat radiating off his body in the tight space. He’s just too close, and the damn elevator isn’t moving fast enough. You’ve got a million things to worry about right now—rent, work, your life— and the last thing you need is to be distracted by him.
But, like always, he’s right there, invading your space, making it impossible to think of anything else.
“What the fuck do you want?” You snap, breaking your vow of silence. You frown up at him, irritation bubbling just beneath the surface as you cross your arms defensively over your chest— a bad move, you realize too late, as the motion only pushes your braless tits together beneath the thin fabric of your tank top.
Predictably, his eyes drop immediately. You curse yourself for not wearing something more substantial. It’s not like I was planning to run into him today, you think to yourself.
“To understand why you hate me so much,” Javier says, his voice low, carrying that annoyingly casual tone, as if this whole conversation is nothing more than a mild inconvenience to him.
Your brows knit together, and a dry laugh slips from your lips before you can stop it. “Well, for starters,” you bite out, “you can’t even look me in the eyes when you ask.” 
His gaze snaps up so fast it’s almost comical, his dark eyes locking with yours, defiance flaring there. But there’s something else too— something that makes the air between you even more tense. You hold his stare, daring him to say something, to make this worse for himself. His expression tightens, but you continue before he has a chance to speak. “And I don’t hate you. I just don’t like you. You annoy the shit out of me.” 
He flinches, just barely, but you catch it. The smallest chink in his armor. You reach around him, your hand brushing against his side as you press the button for the main floor. The contact sends a ripple of awareness through you that you try to ignore. You don’t have time for this— for him.
Javier scowls, his mouth pulling into a frown that mirrors yours, and before you can react, he half-turns and punches a button for a different floor, effectively canceling your request. The elevator jolts, shifting direction. 
You groan audibly, exasperation washing over you. “And here you are, proving my point,” you mutter under your breath. Every second you waste in this shitty elevator with him is another second closer to being late for work. Another second closer to not getting everything done that you needed to today. He’s not just in your way—he’s deliberately in your way, and the worst part is, he knows it.
“You don’t like me,” he counters, turning back to face you fully, his tone edging into frustration, “but you never even gave me a chance.” His jaw is set now, his eyes searching yours as if he’s waiting for you to crack, to admit that there’s more to it than just annoyance. Like he wants you to say it’s something else, something deeper.
If you had the luxury of time, you’d lay it all out for him, explain in excruciating detail just why you’ve avoided giving him that chance. How his arrogance grates on you. How his charm, though admittedly effective, feels hollow. How the way he flirts isn’t even the problem—it’s the way he looks at you, like he knows something about you that you don’t want to admit.
But you don’t have that kind of time.
You pinch the bridge of your nose, taking a deep breath in a vain attempt to steady your nerves. “As fun as it’d be to stand here and explain this shit to you like a child,” you say, your voice tight, “I have important things to do, and you’re keeping me from them.” You jab the elevator button again, hoping the damn thing will just go where you need it to without another unnecessary detour, but you already know it’s a losing battle. 
Javier shifts closer, just slightly, his presence looming. You can smell that damn aftershave again, all spice and leather and smoke, and it only pisses you off more because your body reacts to it before your brain can stop it. You feel your resolve slipping, just a little. His eyes are on you, unwavering, intense in a way that makes you want to both slap him and pull him closer at the same time.
“I’m not trying to keep you from anything,” he replies, softer now, the edge in his voice gone. His tone is almost... apologetic? No. It can’t be. Javier Peña doesn’t apologize. At least not in any way that feels real.
You don’t even bother responding, just stare at the numbers above the door, willing them to move faster. The sooner you’re out of here, the better.
“Just—fuck, give me something. Anything,” he growls, frustrated as all hell. His eyes are wild, and you can see the cracks in his usual suave demeanor, like he’s barely holding it together. “Ever since that last shoot, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head, and I don’t know why. You think you’re exasperated? How the fuck do you think I’m feeling over here?”
You raise a brow, leaning into your disdain as you pout at him mockingly. “Oh, boohoo. Cry me a river. A girl doesn’t like me back, wahh.” You mimic the sound of a crying baby, bringing your fists up to rub against your cheeks in the most exaggerated way possible. Then you drop the act, face deadpanning. 
His eyes narrow, and you think you’ve finally hit a nerve. Good. Let him stew in it. But instead of backing down, he does something you don’t expect— he turns, reaches out, and slams his palm against the emergency stop button. The elevator lurches to a sudden halt, the hum of motion disappearing as the car freezes between floors.
Your eyes widen, a sharp spike of adrenaline shooting through you as the reality of the situation sets in. “What the hell, Javier?” You’re about to cuss him out, to let him know exactly what kind of shit he’s just gotten himself into, but before the words can leave your mouth, he takes two long, purposeful steps toward you.
Instinctively, you move back, the sudden intensity in his eyes sending warning signals through your brain. But there’s nowhere to go. You can’t escape the tight confines of the elevator, your back is pressed up against the cold metal railing. You swallow hard, your heart hammering against your ribs as his broad body looms over yours, trapping you in a way that leaves you feeling both furious and breathless.
He’s too close. His chest brushes against yours, and you can feel his gaze as it drags over your face, down your neck, and lower still, lingering in a way that makes your skin prickle.
Any insult you were ready to hurl at him gets stuck in your throat. You hate how your pulse quickens, how your breath catches. You can feel every inch of him— solid muscle, tense with whatever storm is brewing behind those dark eyes. 
For a brief, dizzying moment, you forget to be mad. You forget that you’re supposed to dislike him, that he’s the last person you should let get under your skin like this but somehow is the only one who’s able to. All you can focus on is the way his breath fans across your cheek, the way the small space between you crackles with tension, like a wire pulled too tight.
“You think this is some kind of joke?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, making your pussy tingle in ways you wish it didn’t. “You think it’s easy for me to just... shrug it off? Because it’s not. Not when I keep thinking about you, and I don’t even fucking understand why.”
There’s something raw in his voice, something that catches you off guard, making you pause to wonder if this really isn’t a game to him.
But you can’t let him see that. You can’t let him know how much he’s getting to you (even though he’s more than aware). So instead, you tilt your chin up defiantly, forcing your voice to stay steady. “And stopping the elevator? Trapping me in here with you? That’s your brilliant solution?”
“No,” he breathes, voice dropping to a near whisper as his face inches closer to yours. “But it’s the only way I could get you to stop running from me.” 
You hate how your stomach flips at his words. Hate how much you’re fighting against the instinct to lean into him instead of shoving him away. Every part of your body is screaming at you to tell him to fuck off and leave you the hell alone.
“Do you know what I think it is?” The words come out in a low, dangerous drawl, the kind that seems to wrap around your throat and squeeze. He leans in, crowding your space, eyes boring into you with an intensity that has your pulse skyrocketing. “I think you’re too fucking stubborn to let yourself have any fun. The idea of me fucking you is enticing, isn’t it?” His lips curl into a smirk, the kind that drips with arrogance and dark promises. “Could see it written all over your face that night at the hotel. That look in your eye while I was fucking Lexxie.”
His accusations slam into you, pulling up the exact moment you’ve been trying to bury. It should have been a professional gig, routine even, nothing personal… except that wasn’t the case. Not with the way he looked at you the entire time, his eyes locked on yours, daring you to react.
And, fuck, you had reacted. You felt the heat rise in your face, the way your body betrayed you as you stood behind the camera, mouth salivating, thighs pressing together.
“Javier…” You push at his chest, your hand meeting the hard wall of muscle beneath his shirt. The intent is to shove him back, to create some space between you. But the second your palm makes contact, it’s like the air shifts, and instead of moving him, it’s like you’ve anchored yourself to him.
Goddamn him. Goddamn you for your spineless ass, for not being able to follow through on resisting the temptation that he is.
He smirks wider, clearly reading the war going on behind your eyes. “You were shaking,” he continues, his voice a dark whisper that coils around your insides. “Damn near moaning while you watched me go down on her. Rubbing those thighs together while this pretty ass was in my face as she was sucking my cock.” 
His large hand snakes around you, catching you off guard, fingers gripping a handful of your ass and pulling you closer. Your body collides with his, and that’s when you feel it— his erection, hard and insistent, pressing into your stomach. The heat between you flares up to unbearable levels, and you can’t help the small gasp that escapes your lips. His touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, every nerve ending in your body on high alert, buzzing with want.
“You’re delusional,” it’s breathless but you’re still determined to keep some semblance of control. You squirm in his grip, your body betraying your words, the friction making your mind tilt. “You just can’t stand the fact that, for once, a woman isn’t throwing herself at you. That I’m not kissing the ground you walk on or falling to my knees, ready to suck you off.”
His hold tightens briefly, pulling you even closer, and for a second, you wonder if you’ll be able to break free at all. It’s damn near impossible to ignore the ache building between your thighs at this point. But somehow, you manage to slip out of his grip, your body twisting away from his until you’ve backed yourself into the far corner of the elevator. 
You can’t breathe. Not properly, anyway. You’ve never felt so on edge, so exposed in such a small space. Every fiber of your being screams at you to keep your distance, to reassert control of the situation, but there’s a part of you— dangerous and impulsive— that wants to step right back into his arms.
Javier doesn’t move, but his eyes stay glued to you, watching your every movement like a predator stalking its prey. The elevator is still locked in place, a silent reminder that you’re trapped here with him until one of you decides to relent. His jaw clenches, and you think he’s going to say something cutting, something to tear you down. But instead, he surprises you.
“You’re right.” His voice is rough, but it carries a weight that’s different from the cocky arrogance he usually hides behind. “I can’t stand it.”
His words hang in the air between you, heavier than you expected. There’s no smirk this time, no sarcastic bite. Just honesty, and it’s a fucking curveball.
You weren’t prepared for him to actually admit it. For once, he’s not trying to fuck with you, not trying to win.
And somehow, that makes it worse.
You swallow hard, the weight of his confession making your heart leap out of your chest.
You don’t know what to say, so instead, you just stand there, staring at him, your body buzzing with a cocktail of adrenaline, lust, and confusion. Because as much as you want to dislike him, as much as you need to dislike him for your own sanity, you can’t deny the way your pussy responds to him. The way your mind keeps pulling you back to that night, to the way he made you feel without even touching you.
“Get over it,” you snap, cutting him off before he can sink any deeper into this conversation. You don’t need to entertain this further. It can’t happen, and it will never happen. The second you fall into bed with him, it’ll be game over. Javier Peña isn’t just a casual fuck— you know deep down he’d be the kind that wraps himself around your soul and doesn’t let go until he’s consumed every inch of you. 
The problem is, you’re terrified that you’ll let him. It’s why you’re so dead set on not giving in.
You cross your arms over your chest again, as if trying to shield yourself from the strength in his eyes, the way he seems to reach into your very core with just a look.
You try to focus on anything else— on the fact that you still need to get to the bank, then to your apartment, and finally to your bar shift. You don’t have time for this shit, for the endless back-and-forth with him.
But then he says your name.
The sound of it on his lips makes you close your eyes, every muscle in your body tensing. Damn him. It sounds so fucking sweet, almost reverent, and you know if you make the mistake of looking at him right now— if you see those beautiful, pleading brown eyes— you’ll fold.
He says your name again, softer this time, and the way his voice wraps around each syllable has your resolve teetering on the edge of collapse. “Please, just let me show you how good I can make you feel,” he murmurs, stepping closer, his breath fanning across your cheek. “Just one taste, nena, por favor.” 
And for the first time since you met Javier— he’s begging. You never imagined that he, of all people, would beg for anything. But here he is, his voice low and thick with desire, pleading with you to give him just one chance.
You blink your eyes open slowly, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions that have been ignited by his words. The synapses in your brain light up like fucking fireworks, each one triggering a new thought, a new possibility. There’s a moment— a split second— where you picture it.
You imagine his hands on your body, his lips trailing fire down your skin, his mouth between your legs. The image flashes so vividly, so intensely in your mind, that it steals the breath from your lungs. 
You can practically feel the way he’d elicit things you’ve been trying to suppress. Your legs go weak just thinking about it, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to ground yourself, to remember who you are, what this is. 
But your cavewoman, horny brain betrays you— racing ahead, picturing every possible outcome. You can’t help but wonder how good it would feel to let him in, just once. How it would be to let him take control, to let him show you, like he’s promising, just how good he can make you feel. 
You’re already late getting to the bank. You should be focusing on that, on getting out of this damn elevator and away from him, but your body won’t cooperate. Every part of you is ablaze, screaming at you to just give in.
Javier’s standing there, staring at you with those chocolate eyes, his dark brows drawn together, pouty lips parted just slightly as he waits for you to say something. Anything. He’s laid it all out in front of you, leaving you to make the next move. And fuck, as much as you hate to admit it, you want to. You want to let him pull you into his world, even though you know it’ll consume you. You want to feel his hands on your skin, his mouth everywhere, his name slipping from your lips.
But you can’t. 
If you give in now, you’ll never be able to walk away from him, and you can’t afford to let yourself get tangled up in Javier Peña. He’s chaos wrapped in temptation, and once you let him in, there’s no turning back.
You swallow hard, your throat tight as you try to hold on to the last shred of control you have. “Javier,” you whisper, barely able to get the words out. You feel like you’re on the edge of a cliff, teetering between desire and self-preservation. The weight of his gaze presses down on you, and for a moment, you think you might just jump.
But then, with every ounce of willpower you have left, you take a shaky breath, shaking your head and breaking the spell he’s woven around you.
“No,” you say, the word barely above a whisper, but firm enough to anchor you back to reality.
His face falls, the fire in his eyes dimming just a little. You almost regret it, almost, but then you remember who he is. What he does. And you know you made the right choice, even if every part of you is berating otherwise.
You stand there, locked in a silent standoff, both of you doing a piss poor job of pretending like you don’t want to tear each other’s clothes off right here in the elevator. 
You’re hoping—no, praying— that he’ll finally let it go. That he’ll stop pushing, stop testing your resolve, and just leave you alone. You’re begging for him to go back to what he does best, to leave you to your job— both of them.
You break eye contact first, glancing down at your watch. You’re definitely not going to make it to your shift on time. Shit. You need to phone your boss and give him a heads up before this gets even worse. But right now, you can’t seem to focus, not with Javier standing there like a Roman statue, immovable and perfect, watching you with that infuriating intensity.
“Now, if you can get the elevator to take us down, I’d really appreciate it,” you say, but the words come out softer than you intended. You hate how small your voice sounds, like you’ve already lost the upper hand, and you mentally slap yourself for it. 
But he doesn’t budge. He just stands there, watching you like you’re the most fascinating thing in the world, and it makes you want to scream. His gaze is piercing, boring holes into your entire existence, and it’s taking everything you have not to crumble beneath it.
“Do you really mean that?” He asks as he brings a hand up to smooth down his mustache. There’s a hint of a smirk at the corner of his lips, like he already knows the answer. “Because everything about your body language is screaming otherwise.” 
When the fuck did he get so close again? He’s right there, towering over you, and suddenly the air between you feels impossibly thin.
“It’s my fuckin’ job to read a woman’s body,” he continues, his voice growing huskier with each word. “And you know what yours is telling me right now?”
Your pulse quickens, your heart slamming against your ribcage, and you can’t find the words to respond. You don’t trust yourself to speak— not when his presence is drowning you in your own body. 
He leans in, lips so close to your ear that his breath almost has you fainting. “It’s telling me that you want it.”
Your stomach flips, every nerve ending in your body coming alive as his curved nose barely grazes your skin. The touch is featherlight, but it sends electricity straight to your cunt. You grip the railing behind you like a lifeline, your knuckles flushed as goosebumps ripple across your skin. 
Javier’s smirk deepens, the asshole clearly enjoying the effect he’s having on you. “Stop fighting it, pretty girl,” he murmurs, his voice like velvet, his hand sliding down the length of your figure in a way that feels too natural, too right. “Let me show you how good I can make you feel…”
You should stop him. You should. But you don’t. You can’t. His hands are on you now, moving with a confidence that’s impossible to resist. One large hand finds its way to your tit, groping it gently through the thin fabric of your tank top, and you gasp, the sound escaping your lips before you can stop it. Your body fails you, head falling back against the elevator wall, your chest arching into his touch. 
The way his hand moves, so sure, so practiced, has your resistance crumbling, piece by piece. 
“That’s it,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your neck, peppering soft, teasing kisses along your sensitive skin. “Barely done a thing and you’re already gone.” 
Your mind is spinning, your resolve completely undone as you melt under his touch. Every kiss, every graze of his lips against your neck feels like it’s unraveling the last bit of control you have. His body is pressed up against yours, and you can feel his erection through his jeans again, the hard (pun intended) evidence of just how much he wants you.
God help you, it feels too good to resist.
You sigh, a low, breathy sound that’s equal parts surrender and relief. His lips trail lower, his hand still groping your breast, and you let him. You let him because you’ve been fighting this for too long, and right now, you just want to feel something. 
Javier grins against your neck, his breath hot on your skin as he pulls you even closer, his voice hoarse in your ear. “Told you,” he says, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “I knew you wanted this.”
You don’t respond. There’s nothing left to say. You’ve given in, you’ll figure out how to pick up the pieces later, but right now? Right now, you’re letting yourself fall apart.
It’s like your whole body just deflates against his, sinking into the solid warmth of him as if all the fight has finally drained out of you. You’re giving him the green light, and he knows it. The grunt that escapes his throat is guttural, and you feel the weight of his palm pressing harder against your chest, his thumb and pointer finger expertly pinching your now hardened nipple through the fabric of your tank top.
“After this,” he murmurs, voice rough with restraint, “if you don’t want me anymore, I’ll leave you alone.” His words are punctuated by a sharp tug at your nipple that sends a surge of arousal straight between your legs. Then his hand moves, sliding up to cradle your jaw with a surprising gentleness. He tilts your head so that your eyes meet his, forcing you to look at him— forcing you to really see him. “You have my word.”
You search his eyes, not entirely sure what you’re looking for— honesty, maybe? A hint of something real beyond the heat of the moment? Whatever it is, you can’t find the words to respond, so you just nod weakly, your breath bated. 
Javier smiles at that, a slow, predatory grin, and he leans in as if to kiss you. But you stop him, your hand pressing against his sternum with just enough force to halt him in his tracks.
“No kissing,” you say, your voice more resolute than you feel. “You said one taste, so get to it.” You’re setting boundaries, trying to keep some semblance of control in this situation. No kissing, no fucking— just head. That’s all this will be. He’ll get a taste of you, and you’ll finally get a taste of what all the hype is about. Then it’ll be over, and you’ll go your separate ways. That’s the deal.
His frown deepens, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features, like he’s not used to anyone telling him no in any capacity. But it’s brief, because he’s not about to take the proverbial bone you’ve thrown him for granted. He agrees in his own way, pivoting without protest, his mouth returning to your neck like he’s already forgotten the attempt to kiss you.
Now that the rules are clear, you allow yourself to let your guard down— just a little. It’s not like your sex life has been riveting lately, and truth be told, you can’t even remember the last time a partner went down on you willingly. At least you’re getting something out of this fucked-up little arrangement, and for now, that’s enough. 
He kisses and licks a line down your throat, his stubble scraping deliciously against the sensitive flesh. You sigh, your breath hitching as you feel his hands roaming your body with a confidence that should piss you off but doesn’t. 
His rough palms map out your curves like he’s trying to commit every inch of you to memory. He’s groping, squeezing, learning you in a way that makes you feel like you’re his personal discovery. 
The warmth of his breath, the skill in his movements— it’s intoxicating. You can’t help but respond, your hips shifting, your body bending instinctively toward him when one hand slides up under your shirt, fingertips brushing the underside of your breast.
He’s good at this, you’ll give him that. Too damn good. It’s almost like he’s a fucking pornstar.
You hate that you’re enjoying it so much, hate that you’re already melting under his touch like some lovesick fool.
“Don’t overthink it,” he murmurs against your skin, feeling the nerves radiating off of you. 
His touch lingers as he reaches the button on your denim shorts, undoing it with a flick of his fingers before pulling down the zipper, slow and deliberate.
“You and these damn shorts…” you hear him say, more to himself than to you. His voice is gruff, frustrated, like he’s been waging a silent battle against his own restraint. He hooks his fingers into the waistband and tugs them down over your hips, watching as the fabric slides off your skin. You step out of them, standing there in nothing but your underwear, top and sneakers, exposed in ways you hadn’t intended to be when you walked into that office earlier today.
His brows shoot up, and you feel the heat rush to your cheeks. Of course, it’s laundry day. Of course, you’re left wearing your least practical pair of underwear— this skimpy, lacy purple number you hardly ever break out. The delicate string disappears between the cheeks of your ass, and the sheer front does little to conceal the soft tuft of hair just below your navel. 
And he’s drinking it all in.
“Fuckin’ hell, nena,” he breathes, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and lust. His eyes flick back up to yours, dark and hungry. “You always walkin’ around like this?” His hands grip your hips, and before you can even formulate a response, he’s sinking to his knees in front of you, taking his sweet ass time, like this is some kind of worship.
“No, I—” Your voice is breathy, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. “I had to do laundry today…” It’s all you can manage, barely coherent as his lips begin pressing soft, teasing kisses to the inside of your knee.
He throws one of your legs over his shoulder, steadying you, his fingers gripping your thigh with enough pressure to leave you keening. You brace yourself against the elevator railing, your body tense with anticipation, your mind a chaotic swirl of logic and lust. You barely notice as the check you came here for flutters to the floor beside you, forgotten.
Don’t forget to deposit that, the reasonable part of your brain chimes in, but you tell that bitch to shut up because Javier Peña is currently on his knees in font of you, about to take you on the ride of your fucking life, and you’re nowhere near strapped in.
His head is tilted up, lips brushing dangerously close to where you want him most, and all rational thought is slipping through your fingers like sand.
He looks up at you then, his dark eyes glinting with something wicked, and your breath catches again. You don’t know how to feel about any of this anymore. There’s a line you swore you wouldn’t cross, but now that he’s right there, so close to giving you what you’ve craved for longer than you care to admit, it’s hard to remember why you drew that line in the first place.
Javier’s lips graze the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and a quiet moan escapes your lips before you can stop it. He smirks against your skin, his fingers tracing a slow path up your leg, sending shivers coursing through you. “Relax, bonita,” he murmurs, voice thick with desire. “I’ll take care of you.”
You want to tell him to hurry up, to stop teasing, but all that comes out is a shaky exhale as his hands part your thighs wider, positioning you exactly how he wants you. His grip is firm, possessive, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ll survive whatever it is he’s about to do to you.
You don’t even have time to dwell on the thought before his mouth is on you, lips pressing a lingering kiss over the thin fabric of your panties. The sudden pressure sends a shockwave through your body, and your eyes fall closed, surrendering to the moment. His tongue teases the fabric, nudging against your already soaked cunt, and you can feel the wetness seeping through the lace. He hums low in his throat, savoring the first taste of you.
“These are so pretty. Don’t think I’ll take ’em off.”
He hooks his fingers into the delicate fabric and pulls it aside, exposing you to him completely. The cool air hits your slick folds, a contrast to the heat of his breath as he hovers just inches away. He’s staring, taking you in, and when he curses under his breath, it’s like he’s caught off guard by how badly he wants this. Wants you.
“Fuck,” he mutters, as he drags his nose up and down the length of your wet slit. The touch is maddeningly light, just enough to make you clench involuntarily, your body reacting without permission. More of your slick leaks out of your pussy, a response to the subtle stimulation, and you grip the elevator railing tighter to keep yourself from falling with how weak your knees get.
Javier flattens his tongue, delivering a slow, deliberate lick from your entrance to your clit, and it’s like your entire body ignites at once. You throw your head back, a ragged cry of his name ripping from your throat as your hips buck instinctively, searching for more of him, more of that friction that feels like pure electricity.
He’s not done, though. Not even close. One hand snakes around your thighs, strong and sure. His middle and pointer fingers spread you open, forming an upside-down V, and then he does something so filthy, so perfectly Javier— he spits directly onto your exposed pussy.
The sound alone could get you off, but the sensation is something else entirely. His saliva mixes with your slick, making everything wetter, hotter, and you feel like you’re unraveling before he’s even truly begun. A series of high-pitched moans spill from your lips as he latches his mouth onto your cunt, sucking and licking with a precision that has your entire being quaking.
Lips, tongue, teeth—he’s using everything he has, dragging you deeper into a haze of pleasure where nothing exists but the heat coiling in your belly, tightening with every flick. He’s devouring you, utterly relentless, and it’s too much but not enough, all at once. Every nerve ending is on fire, your thighs trembling as you fight to keep your balance. His grip on your leg tightens, keeping you locked in place, helpless to do anything but take what he’s giving.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans, pulling back for just a moment, leaning his cheek against your inner thigh. His face is glistening, covered in your arousal, but his eyes are dark and hungry, never straying from your face. “With noises like that and a pussy this pretty— you’d be a fucking sight on camera.”
His words send another jolt through you, dirty and wrong and so fucking hot that you nearly forget how to breathe. He nips at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, leaving faint marks in his wake, before diving back in with that skilled tongue of his. He’s a man with something to prove, alternating between broad strokes and tight circles, zeroing in on your fleshy clit with a precision that makes your head spin.
It’s obscene, the way he’s working you over, all these years spent perfecting this art, but there’s a rawness to it too, a desperation like he can’t get enough of you. You’re soaked, dripping onto his face, and he laps it up like a man starved, the sounds of his mouth slurping against your wetness filling the small space around you. Your moans are louder now, more desperate, each one pushing you closer to that edge where you’re not sure if you’ll survive the fall.
His fingers tighten on your thigh again, and then he’s dragging them lower, inching toward your entrance as his tongue flicks mercilessly against your clit. When he slips two fingers inside you, curling them just right, you nearly scream. The combination of his mouth and his fingers is enough to send you spiraling, your legs trembling uncontrollably as you arch into him.
“So fuckin’ tight,” he grunts when he pulls away to get a good look at your beautiful face and how you look when he’s making you feel like you’re on top of the world. It’s enough to get him to latch onto your clit, sucking on it harshly.
“God, Javier,” you gasp, your voice shaky, barely coherent. You can’t think, can’t form any rational thought, not with the way he’s pulling you apart, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left but the pleasure.
“Let go,” he growls against you, the vibrations of his voice sending shockwaves through your core. “I’ve got you, nena. Just let go.” 
And with that, the dam breaks. You’re coming hard, hips jerking wildly as waves of pleasure crash over you, your entire body shaking with the force of it. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up for a second, working you through it with that relentless mouth until you’re gasping for air, hands clenching at the railing so hard you’re surprised it hasn’t snapped. 
Your vision blurs, your mind goes blank, and all you can do is hold on as Javier takes you on the ride of your life, just like you knew he would.
You don’t know how long it takes you to come back into your body after letting him take the reins for a little. You’re trembling, legs weak and body heavy against the cool metal wall of the elevator. He’s still on his knees, knuckle-deep inside you, lazily curling them as if savoring every last second.
His mouth trails soft, teasing kisses across your soaked panties, and the tenderness of the act startles you, nearly pulling you under again. But then he withdraws his fingers, slipping them into his mouth with an almost obscene groan, tasting you one last time as if to commit your flavor to memory. He carefully adjusts your underwear back into place.
Javier stands to his full height, your leg falling from his shoulder, towering over you. His hand comes to rest lightly on your waist as if to steady you. “You okay?”
You nod, though your bones feel like jelly. Your eyes stay closed as you try to gather yourself, forcing yourself back into reality, back into the woman who doesn’t fold like a house of cards for her co-worker. You bend down to retrieve your shorts and check from the floor, fingers fumbling with the zipper as you button yourself back up. He presses the button to resume the elevator, the gears shifting as you’re slowly carried back to the main floor. 
And just like that, it hits you. It happened. You’ve came on Javier’s tongue and fingers. You swore it wouldn’t— swore up and down that he was nothing more than a nuisance at work, a distraction you wouldn’t let get to you. But here you are, post-orgasm, in a goddamn public elevator, of all places, with the man who was supposed to be just a headache.
“Hope you got your fix because it’s never happening again,” you mutter, trying to summon the biting edge to your words, almost like you’re trying to convince yourself as much as him.
Javier just smirks, that infuriating glint back in his eyes like he already knows better, but he doesn’t push it. Not now.
The elevator doors slide open with a sharp ding, and the scene before you is worse than any nightmare you could’ve concocted in the heat of the moment. Two firefighters, the building manager, and— of course because why the hell not— Steve Murphy are standing there with varying degrees of shock and amusement.
You can see the moment Steve takes it all in— your flushed cheeks, the slightly mussed state of your clothes, Javier standing just a bit too close to you. His blue eyes narrow, then widen, and then he breaks into a shit-eating grin so wide you could slap it right off his face.
“Well, well, well,” Steve drawls, barely containing his laughter. “What do we have here?”
Your stomach sinks. Not again. 
Javier, ever the cocky bastard, simply raises an eyebrow and slides his hands into his pockets, all cool nonchalance like he hasn’t just been between your thighs minutes earlier. “Just crapped out on us randomly,” he says smoothly, and you want to strangle him for the audacity.
Steve chuckles, shaking his head as if he’s in on some big joke that only you and Javier are the punchline for. And as you step past him, cheeks burning, all you can think is that this will never, ever happen again.
But even as you repeat it to yourself, a small part of you— the part still buzzing from the memory of Javier’s mouth— wonders if you’re lying.
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svt-luna · 2 months ago
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𝜗℘ HIM AND I
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❛ 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘦, 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘪'𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘦. 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, "𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦", 𝘪 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘪'𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘺, 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪. 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥, 𝘪'𝘮 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥— 𝘸𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥. 𝘪 𝘢𝘮 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪. ❜
timeline: 2024
synopsis: In a momentous night filled with cheers, Luna must confront the void of Jeonghan’s absence, finding solace in the echoes of his unwavering support from afar.
warnings: fluff, slight angst, mentions of anxiety, cursing, pda, flirting, teasing, texting galore, fluff, fluff, fluff, and more tooth-rotting fluff, prepared to be sick of them
surprise!! i simply couldn’t help myself after seeing my baby in the concert yesterday!! this reminded me of a few anon requests i had a few weeks ago (request 1) & (request 2). there are a couple of scenes here as well which were requested by you lovely humans and i decided to do them because of how excited i was. i hope you guys enjoy this even though it’s a little rushed.
also a little fun fact: i accidentally deleted this the second i finished it 💀 thankfully i had saved it in my google docs… almost had a mental breakdown. so please enjoy my blood, sweat, and tears 🤍
╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ writings masterlist
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Luna and Jeonghan.
Jeonghan and Luna.
It’s always been the two of them together.
Since the very first day they met in that green-colored practice room at PLEDIS, they were like two peas in a pod.
The moment Luna walked in, feeling the weight of both excitement and uncertainty, Jeonghan was the first to approach her. No hesitation, no judgment— just a warm smile and a hand stretched out in welcome.
From that point on, they were inseparable.
Jeonghan, with his easygoing charm, and Luna, who had initially been more guarded, found a natural rhythm together. He was her first real friend at PLEDIS, and because of that, Luna quickly became his shadow. She followed him everywhere, always listened to him, and valued his opinion above anyone else’s.
Even before asking the others, it was always Jeonghan’s thoughts that mattered the most to her.
Jeonghan was the first to notice every little shift in her mood. He knew when something was bothering her just by a subtle change in her expression. A slight furrow of her brow, a distant look in her eyes— Jeonghan saw it all.
And it worked both ways.
Luna could read Jeonghan like a book, noticing the moments when he was tired, frustrated, or simply needed a break, even when no one else could tell.
They shared an unspoken understanding, a quiet connection that seemed to grow stronger with each passing day.
But it was during Luna’s first monthly evaluation at PLEDIS that their bond solidified into something deeper. The pressure had been mounting ever since she joined. Everyone knew her as the former YG trainee, the one they called ‘The Ace’.
Other trainees whispered about her in the hallways, speculating about her skills, her future, and whether she could live up to the hype. She was terrified, though she would never show it.
Luna stood there, her posture rigid, her expression stoic, but Jeonghan saw right through her.
He knew her mind was running in circles, knew that she was silently carrying the weight of everyone’s expectations.
Right before her turn came up, he pulled her aside, just out of view from the others. Without a word, he placed his forehead gently against hers. Luna’s eyes fluttered closed, and instantly, the world around them began to fade away. It was just the two of them, their breaths slowly falling into sync. She could feel Jeonghan’s steady breathing against her, and with each inhale, her racing heart began to slow.
“Breathe,” Jeonghan whispered softly, his voice calming and sure. “It’s just you and me.”
Luna’s lips parted as she repeated, her eyes still closed, “Just you and me.”
Jeonghan stayed like that for a moment longer, watching her closely, his forehead still pressed against hers. He saw the tension slowly melt from her face, saw her shoulders relax, and he knew she was ready.
He gave her a few seconds to breathe before he finished with one final phrase: “Nothing else.”
And then, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead.
From that day on, this simple but powerful ritual became their anchor.
Every time Luna faced a challenge— whether it was another monthly evaluation, their first nerve-wracking showcase, their debut stage, or even the countless music show performances that followed— Jeonghan was there.
Always.
Every single time.
And every time, without fail, their routine remained the same.
Foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, their breathing in sync.
“Breathe. It’s just you and me,” Jeonghan would say.
“Just you and me,” Luna would repeat.
And finally, Jeonghan would whisper, “Nothing else,” before placing that same gentle kiss on her forehead.
It became their unbreakable tradition, a constant in the whirlwind of their careers.
Every fan meeting, every concert, whether they were surrounded by thousands of screaming fans or in the quiet of a backstage room, they found those few moments for each other.
In their little bubble, it was always just them.
No matter how loud the world outside got, no matter the pressure or the expectations, when their foreheads touched and their breaths aligned, everything else faded away.
Nothing else mattered but each other.
Jeonghan and Luna had always found a way to stick to their ritual, no matter the circumstance.
There were times when Jeonghan wasn’t there with her before a performance, like when he had his elbow injury or when needed surgery for his ankle. He had been forced to sit out, recovering on the sidelines, watching as Luna and the rest of the members continued performing without him. And then there were moments when Luna wasn’t there either— laid up in bed, sick, forced to watch her team from a distance as they carried on without her.
Yet, even then, it didn’t matter.
They always found a way to connect, a way to anchor themselves in their shared tradition.
They would message each other, without fail, right before going on stage, sending the same words and phrases that had become their pre-show mantra.
Jeonghan’s simple, reassuring words would flash on her screen: Breathe. It’s just you and me.
And Luna would respond, without hesitation: Just you and me.
Jeonghan would finish with the final, comforting line: Nothing else.
It was never the same as having him physically beside her, but it was enough to ground her, enough to carry her through those moments of loneliness and anxiety.
Now, sitting backstage a few hours before the start of SEVENTEEN’s ‘Right Here’ tour in Goyang, Luna felt the familiar nerves bubbling up. They were kicking things off at the Goyang Stadium, a massive venue filled with excited fans waiting to see them.
But this time, it was different.
This time, Jeonghan wasn’t recovering from an injury.
He wasn’t at home, sick, waiting for the next chance to rejoin them on stage.
This time, Jeonghan was gone for what would feel like an eternity— two long years of military service.
As Luna sat in the makeup chair, her hair being carefully curled and styled, her makeup artist putting the finishing touches on her eyeliner, all she could focus on was the reflection staring back at her in the mirror.
Her face was dolled up, her hair perfectly styled, but none of it seemed to matter. Her eyes kept drifting back to her own reflection, searching for something to latch onto, something to calm the anxious storm brewing inside her chest.
This time, things were really changing.
She had come to terms with it over the last few years— the fact that Jeonghan would be gone and that after him, the rest of the members, aside from the foreign members and Seungcheol, would eventually follow.
The inevitability of it all had weighed on her, but she knew it had to happen.
Luna and Jeonghan had talked about it endlessly in the days leading up to his enlistment, late-night conversations filled with reassurances and reminders that this was something every man in Korea had to face.
Even on the day he left, Jeonghan had made it clear— he didn’t want her to be sad without him. That’s what he’d emphasized most. “Smile for me, yeah? You can cry, baby, but don’t spend the next two years crying about it. I’ll still be here. You’ll still see me.” he had said, a teasing grin on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
But Luna knew better.
She knew how much he hated the thought of leaving her, even if he didn’t say it outright.
She was trying— really.
Really trying to see the bright side.
After all, Jeonghan hadn’t enlisted as a regular soldier. Because of his injury, he would be serving as a social worker instead, meaning he wouldn’t be stuck in the grueling life of a combat soldier. But even so, he still had to complete basic training.
He still had to endure those few weeks of separation. Almost two weeks had passed since and it was slowly driving Luna mad.
The last few months had been an emotional whirlwind, a rollercoaster she was still trying to process.
From headlining at Lollapalooza in Berlin to Jeonghan proposing to her the day before the festival, to their last date just days before his enlistment, and then, of course, being caught by the media.
Their five-year relationship and engagement were splashed across the headlines, their private lives exposed for all to see. The mixed reactions from fans and the public alike were something Luna had expected, but it was still exhausting.
And then, Jeonghan had left.
Just like that.
Officially inactive for two years— the two weeks of basic training already felt like an eternity.
And now, here she was, on the first day of their tour, her emotions on overdrive. The excitement of being on stage again, mixed with the crushing weight of Jeonghan’s absence, made her heart feel like it was caught in a tug-of-war.
She needed him here with her.
She needed his warmth, his comfort, his stupid little quips that always managed to pull a smile out of her, no matter how stressed she was.
As the team continued curling her hair, adjusting the strands to perfection, and applying the final touches to her makeup, Luna closed her eyes, trying to block out the bustling chaos of the dressing room. She could hear the other members around her, each one doing their own pre-show rituals. Some were talking and laughing, others were getting changed, or sitting in the makeup chairs.
It was the usual energy before a concert. But all Luna could hear were her thoughts, the mantra she and Jeonghan had shared for years repeating over and over in her mind.
Breathe. It’s just you and me.
The words echoed in her head as she tried to steady her breathing, to keep herself from spiraling into the anxious pit that had been creeping up on her ever since Jeonghan left.
Just you and me.
She whispered the words to herself, a quiet promise that, no matter how far away he was, he was still with her.
Nothing else.
Luna didn’t even realize her fingers had been fiddling with her rings— a telltale sign of her anxiety. She often did it without thinking, twisting and turning the metal bands around her fingers whenever her nerves got the better of her.
But now, the new addition on her left hand, the oval-shaped diamond engagement ring, caught her eye. Its sparkle under the dressing room lights felt like a beacon, drawing her attention to the very thing that had been on her mind all morning.
Her heart clenched, and for a moment, she felt the overwhelming urge to cry.
Seeing the ring, a symbol of her future with Jeonghan, only made her miss him more. But she fought it back, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay.
Not today, she reminded herself. Today is a happy day. It’s the opening day of their world tour.
There was no need for tears— at least, not today.
She had promised Jeonghan she wouldn’t cry about it anymore, not about him leaving, not about the empty space beside her.
She was doing this for him, too.
Those thoughts began to ebb away, only to be replaced by a new wave of anxiety.
This would be her first time on stage since the confirmation of their relationship and engagement, and now, more than ever, she wished Jeonghan were there to face it with her. She always looked to him in these moments when the weight of the public eye felt like too much to bear.
But now, he wasn’t here, and the thought of going out there alone made her heartbeat quicken.
Anxiety slithered its way back into her chest, tightening its grip around her lungs.
I hate my mind sometimes, she thought bitterly, her fingers twisting the engagement ring as she tried to steady her breathing.
Luna wanted to be calm, to focus on the excitement of the concert, but her mind kept drifting back to all the pressure, and all the expectations.
She tried to push the thoughts away, inhaling deeply to force her heart to slow down.
Then, a sudden ding broke through the fog of her thoughts.
Her phone, resting on her lap, vibrated softly, bringing her back to reality. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked down at the screen, blinking a few times to adjust.
Her lock screen— a photo of Jeonghan from their trip to Paris last year— made her heart skip a beat. He was posing in that carefree way only he could, the Parisian architecture stood in the background.
The memory brought a small smile to her face, but her heart skipped another beat entirely when she saw the name of the person who had just messaged her.
‘my angel boy🪽’
It was Jeonghan.
Luna almost burst into tears at the sight. Her fingers fumbled to unlock the phone as she hurriedly opened the message, heart pounding in her chest.
One word stared back at her:
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Luna could’ve cried right then and there, overwhelmed by how perfectly Jeonghan knew her.
Even when he wasn’t physically there next to her, even when they hadn’t spoken in nearly two weeks, he still knew exactly what she needed to hear.
She didn’t know how she got so lucky, how she had found someone so attuned to her, so aware of her emotions.
How did I get so lucky? she thought, her heart swelling with love and gratitude. How am I this blessed to have him?
Her fingers moved quickly across the screen as she typed, a sense of urgency settling in her chest.
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She needed reassurance, despite the fact that it was literally his number. She knew it was him, but a part of her needed to hear him say it again, needed to know he was still there with her in some small way.
The reply came almost immediately as if he knew she’d be waiting, breath held.
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Luna’s chest tightened at the words, her heart swelling and her throat constricting. If it weren’t for the fact that her makeup artist was just finishing up her eye makeup, she probably would have let the tears spill over. But she blinked them back, biting down on her lip to keep herself steady.
Luna let out a shaky breath, her shoulders relaxing for the first time since she’d sat down in the makeup chair.
She was so thankful for him, so unbelievably grateful that no matter what, Jeonghan always found a way to be there for her. Even in the middle of his military service, he had still managed to send her exactly what she needed.
He always found a way for her.
And then, a thought entered her mind— one she didn’t want to entertain, but couldn’t help. She wished it were true, wished more than anything that he was here with her, physically present.
Her fingers moved on their own as she typed the words she was afraid to ask but desperately wanted to hear.
The seconds ticked by slowly, agonizingly, as she waited for his reply. Her heart pounded in her chest, hope mingling with dread, until finally, his answer came through:
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For a moment, Luna’s heart nearly stopped.
Jeonghan was here.
He was really here.
The overwhelming urge to jump out of her chair and run through the stadium to find him flooded her senses.
She wanted nothing more than to see him, to feel his arms around her, to know that he was there in the audience watching her, supporting her as he always had.
Luna stared at the screen, her heart racing and her fingers trembling slightly over the phone as she typed back to Jeonghan. The soft warmth of his words lingered in her chest like a quiet flame, steadying the swirl of emotions that had been consuming her moments before.
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She could almost hear his voice, teasing and soft, comforting her through the miles that stretched between them in her heart, despite knowing he was right there in the audience.
Her lips curled into a smile as her fingers hovered above the keyboard, their playful banter still vivid in her mind.
Her gaze drifted from the phone for a moment, taking in the organized chaos of the dressing room around her. The makeup artists and staff were in their usual whirlwind, preparing for the show, but Luna’s world had narrowed down to that little device in her hands and the man on the other side of the screen.
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Luna could practically feel his presence in those words— steady, reassuring like he was holding her hand through the screen.
As the conversation came to a close, Luna found herself taking a deep breath.
The anxiety that had been gnawing at her seemed to ease as Jeonghan’s words echoed in her mind. He had this way of grounding her, making everything seem a little less daunting.
With her heart still pounding but in a much softer rhythm now, she tucked her phone away, letting out a small exhale.
The moment was tender and fleeting, but it was enough. Enough to remind her of why she was here, why she was standing on the precipice of something so grand, and why she wouldn’t let her fears hold her back today.
Because, as Jeonghan had said, it was just them— just Luna and him in this moment, no matter the crowd, no matter the circumstances.
Her gaze returned to the mirror, catching the reflection of the sparkling ring on her finger.
That simple band now held so much meaning.
It wasn’t just a promise of forever; it was a reminder that no matter where life took them, Jeonghan would always find a way to be by her side.
Luna released a long, steady breath, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment as she centered herself. She was still buzzing with excitement from the conversation with Jeonghan, her heart racing faster than it had any right to.
But now it was time to focus.
There was a show to do.
Opening night.
Slowly, she stood up from the makeup chair, her muscles loosening as the tension from the past few minutes ebbed away.
Her stylist, Jiwoo, called out her name just as Luna was about to head to her dressing room.
“Jiyeon-ah! Here’s your opening outfit.”
Jiwoo came toward her with the ensemble, a stunning black and white stage outfit designed to captivate under the lights. Luna’s fingers gently brushed against the fabric as Jiwoo handed it to her. The shimmering accents practically glowed under the dressing room lights.
“Wow,” Luna breathed out, her eyes gleaming with appreciation. “Why does it look better now than during the first dress rehearsal? It’s amazing.”
“Only the best for ou stars,” Jiwoo replied with a wink, smiling as she stepped back to admire the outfit Luna was clutching to her chest.
Luna felt a surge of warmth at her stylist’s words. She thanked her quietly before heading off, her mind now completely absorbed in the rhythm of preparation.
She was halfway down the room when she noticed Seungcheol, already dressed in his own stage outfit, leaning casually against the wall, eyes glued to his phone. His head was bobbing slightly to the beat of the music playing in the background, courtesy of Vernon, who had a playlist going to pump everyone up.
A mischievous smile formed on Luna’s lips as she quickened her pace and approached him. Without warning, she lightly punched him in the arm, enough to startle him but far from anything painful.
Seungcheol blinked in surprise, his eyes lifting from his phone to meet hers. “What was that for?” he asked, not angry at all but pouting back at her in mock offense. His expression was so comically disbelieving that it made Luna’s grin widen.
Luna gave him a playful pout of her own, leaning in slightly as she clutched the outfit closer to her chest. “Why didn’t you tell me he was here?” she asked, her tone teasing but with an underlying warmth.
Her heart still fluttered at the thought of Jeonghan surprising her.
The realization dawned on Seungcheol, and his eyes widened slightly before nodded his head in understanding. “So, he told you already, huh?” He crossed his arms, his brow furrowing in mock scolding, looking down at her like a parent about to lecture their child. “Did he also tell you that he told us not to tell you?” His eyebrow raised as if challenging her, though the soft smile on his lips betrayed any real annoyance.
Luna almost burst out laughing at the way Seungcheol worded his sentence. He really could be so serious sometimes. Still, her pout remained as she nodded in confirmation.
Seungcheol sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “Then why did you punch me?”
Luna couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth, her expression softening as she looked up at him. “Because I’m happy, Cheollie,” she replied, her voice almost childlike in its honesty.
The simplicity of the statement, combined with the sincerity behind it, made the moment feel lighter, as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
Seungcheol’s expression softened too. His stern act melted away as he looked at her, the leader in him always understanding, always protective. “Well, I’m happy that you’re happy,” he said, his tone gentle, filled with affection for his longtime friend.
Luna hummed in grateful acknowledgment, her chest swelling with an overwhelming sense of joy.
If she was fire, Seungcheol’s words had been gasoline, igniting her spirit even further.
She felt more energized than ever, more ready to step onto that stage and give her all.
Without thinking, she leaned up on her tiptoes and placed a quick kiss on Seungcheol’s cheek. The surprised look on his face made her giggle.
Then, with a renewed sense of excitement, she skipped— yes, literally skipped— down the hallway toward the changing room, her laughter echoing softly as she disappeared around the corner.
The members of SEVENTEEN could feel the shift in the atmosphere almost immediately.
Luna’s energy was palpable, radiating from her as if an invisible weight had finally been lifted from her shoulders.
For weeks now, they had watched her bury herself in work, her usual brightness dimmed by the heavy absence of Jeonghan. Ever since he left for his enlistment, it was as though Luna had lost a piece of herself. She had kept her head down, moving from one task to the next with little time to breathe in between.
Photoshoots, solo events, rehearsals, preparation for this concert —she threw herself into it all.
Even during Fashion Week, where she shone as brightly as any model on the runway, the members knew it wasn’t quite the same. They could see it in the way her smile never quite reached her eyes, how she lingered a little too long in the practice room after hours, working through the choreography over and over as if hoping the physical exhaustion would drown out the emotional strain.
But no matter how much work she piled on, it didn’t fill the void left by Jeonghan.
It wasn’t just her who felt it.
The rest of the group could sense his absence as keenly as she did.
Jeonghan was like the glue that held them all together, always there with a teasing smile or a comforting word, and without him, something essential was missing. It didn’t help that Jun wasn’t around either, caught up in his own projects back in China.
Two out of fourteen of their pillars were gone, and though the group was as close-knit as ever, the hole they left behind was impossible to ignore.
But tonight, as Luna skipped down the hallway, her lightness and joy infecting the air around her, the difference was startling. It was as if the dark cloud that had been hovering over her for weeks had finally broken, letting the sun shine through again.
And everyone noticed.
Seungkwan, who had been warming up his voice nearby, exchanged a glance with Dokyeom, who grinned knowingly. “She’s definitely in a better mood,” Seungkwan murmured, his eyes following Luna as she disappeared around the corner.
“Thank Jeonghan hyung for that,” Dokyeom chuckled softly.
The rest of the members murmured their agreement. They knew how close Luna and Jeonghan were; they had been witnesses to the growth of their relationship, from quiet glances and hidden smiles to the deep bond they shared now.
Watching Luna struggle these past few weeks had been hard on all of them, especially since there was little they could do to ease the ache of missing someone so important.
But tonight, with Jeonghan’s surprise appearance, it was as if a piece of her heart had been restored. Luna practically floated through the corridors, her excitement contagious. The members couldn’t help but feel a surge of their own happiness, relieved that at least for now, Luna’s spirit had been lifted.
They were grateful to Jeonghan for pulling her out of the fog she had been in, if only for a little while.
The concert looming ahead was significant for all of them— opening night for their ‘Right Here’ world tour. A twelve-member performance instead of their usual fourteen. It felt incomplete, yet seeing Luna smiling again was a balm for their own worries.
They might not be able to share the stage with Jeonghan and Jun tonight, but they would carry the spirit of their absent brothers with them.
And for now, it was enough.
The air in the backstage room buzzed with an electric tension, the kind that always hung in the moments before a show.
Luna could feel her heart racing in her chest as she stood in the familiar circle with the rest of SEVENTEEN, their hands together in front of them as they leaned in close. This huddle had become their tradition, a quiet moment of unity before they stepped onto the stage.
It was their anchor, the reminder that no matter how many people screamed their names or how many bright lights shone on them, at the core, it was still the fourteen of them— or in this case, twelve.
Seungcheol, their leader, always took the opportunity to speak in these moments. His voice was calm, but there was a fire beneath it, a quiet strength that reassured all of them. “Let’s give everything we’ve got out there,” he said, his eyes sweeping over the circle, locking briefly on each of them. “Opening night of our world tour, let’s give them a show. For Jeonghan and Jun.”
There was a pause as the weight of his words hung in the air— Jeonghan and Jun.
Their absence was a wound they all felt deeply, but tonight wasn’t about sadness. It was about showing the world their strength, even if incomplete. And for Luna, it was about showing Jeonghan how proud she was, knowing he was somewhere out there watching.
With a deep breath, they all chanted their group cheer, voices blending into one. The sound reverberated through the room, filling Luna’s chest with warmth and grounding her. As the cheer faded, they broke apart, nodding to each other with a shared understanding.
This was it.
Luna’s heart thudded in her chest as she took her position on the platform behind the massive LED screen with the rest of the members. Her palms were slightly sweaty, and she wiped them discreetly against the fabric of her stage outfit.
The seconds ticked by slowly, anticipation building in the air like a coiled spring. She closed her eyes, drawing in a slow breath to center herself, repeating the mantra that always ran through her mind before the lights hit her face. She exhaled slowly, feeling the jittery energy settle into something more controlled, more focused.
When her eyes opened again, it was just in time to see the LED screen in front of them begin to part.
The roaring of the crowd outside, though slightly muffled by her in-ear monitor, was deafening. It was like standing at the edge of a storm, the rumble of thousands of voices merging into one wild, electric sound.
The adrenaline that rushed through her veins was immediate, like a shock to her system, awakening every nerve in her body. Luna could feel it pumping in time with the beat of the song, ‘Fear,’ which began to pulse through her ears.
As the screen fully opened, revealing the stage in all its glory. The noise of the crowd swelled even louder, crashing into them like a tidal wave, but the music in her in-ear monitor kept her grounded. She felt the thrum of the bass vibrate through her body, each beat synchronizing with her racing heart.
From the very first note of ‘Fear,’ Luna was on. Her movements were sharp, and precise, every step of the choreography drilled into her muscles through hours of practice.
The adrenaline coursing through her veins made everything feel sharper, more intense— the rush of the performance intoxicating. She was alive in a way that nothing else in the world could make her feel. Every sway of her hips, every lift of her arm, and every spin was executed with flawless precision. The music was in her bones, and the choreography felt like second nature, her body flowing effortlessly from one move to the next.
Luna’s eyes found the cameras, her expression shifting into the sultry, fierce gaze she knew the fans loved. Each camera angle was met with purpose— a glance, a smirk, a fleeting look that would send their fans into a frenzy. She could feel their energy, their excitement feeding into her own, and it made her perform even harder, even better.
The members around her were just as immersed in the performance. They moved as one, the choreography flawless, their presence commanding.
They were SEVENTEEN, a unit, even when parts of them were miles away.
As ‘Fear’ bled into ‘Fearless,’ the energy only amplified. The transitions were seamless, Luna’s voice strong and clear as she hit each note with power. Her voice was steady through her in-ear monitor, and she felt the music vibrate through every fiber of her being.
She lived for this— the lights, the stage, the connection with the audience. There was nothing quite like the feeling of performing, the way the adrenaline and music melded together into one euphoric experience.
With every song, every movement, the crowd grew louder, their energy mixing with her own. She craved it, thrived on it. It fueled her, pushing her to give more, to hit each move harder, to sing with more passion.
By the time ‘Maestro’ started, the third song in their opening set, Luna was fully in the zone. Her body moved on pure muscle memory, her vocals strong as they rang through the arena. She nailed every single move, every single note.
And through it all, she couldn’t help but give a little more, and perform with just a bit more intensity. Because tonight wasn’t just for her.
Tonight, she knew Jeonghan was watching. He was out there somewhere in the sea of fans, his eyes on her, and that knowledge made her push herself to give a hundred and one percent.
This is for you, she thought, her heart swelling with pride and love.
Every move, every note— it’s for you.
As the third song, ‘Maestro,’ came to an electrifying end, Luna and the rest of the members made their way to the front of the stage. The adrenaline still coursing through her veins was a heady mixture of euphoria and exhilaration. She could feel the sweat cooling on her skin beneath the stage lights, the pounding in her chest mirroring the thrumming energy of the arena.
The fans were screaming louder than ever, their voices a roaring tidal wave that seemed to rise and crash over the stage, swallowing the entire stadium in a sea of sound.
The members, still catching their breath from the performance, began to line up. Each of them took turns stepping forward for the opening ment, one after another, introducing themselves as a team and sharing their thoughts with the audience.
Luna stood among them, her eyes sweeping across the ocean of Carats before her. The crowd was vast— thousands of faces, all illuminated by lightsticks glowing in the stadium. It was a breathtaking sight, a reminder of just how far they’d come together.
As the other members took turns speaking, Luna allowed herself a small smile. She could feel the weight of the moment, how special it was to open this tour in Goyang. But there was something more than just excitement for the concert tonight— there was a warmth blooming in her chest, something that had taken root the moment she found out Jeonghan was somewhere in attendance watching.
For the first time in weeks, the emptiness she’d been carrying around wasn’t so heavy anymore.
Her gaze flicked back to the crowd as she waited for her turn to speak, her smile softening as she took it all in. The fans, some waving banners with her name, others dressed in shirts with her image printed on them, were giving all their energy back to her.
It was overwhelming in the best way possible, and she felt a wave of gratitude wash over her. These were the people who had supported her from the beginning, who had stood by her side through every high and low, and tonight was as much for them as it was for her and the members.
But before Luna could fully lose herself in her thoughts, the sound of the fans’ screams hit her ears, sharper and louder than before.
Startled, she blinked and realized her face had just been projected onto the enormous LED screen behind them. Her in-ear monitor had been removed earlier, so she heard the screams in all their full, raw intensity. It echoed through the arena, sending a surge of energy back into her, and she felt a slight flutter of amusement as she noticed the reaction of the crowd.
It wasn’t the first time she’d seen this reaction— the mixture of screams and disbelief. She was used to it by now, especially when her face appeared on the big screen, the high-definition clarity often making her look almost surreal as if she had been computer-generated. She had heard the fans joke about it countless times, calling her “too perfect” or “CGI” whenever she appeared like this.
Luna’s lips curled into a knowing smirk, her eyes locking with the camera directly in front of her, playing into the reaction. The screams grew even louder as the fans realized she was looking straight at them, her expression one of playful mischief.
She lifted her mic to her mouth, ready to speak, but before she could even get a word out, another wave of deafening screams erupted, cutting her off completely.
At first, she wasn’t entirely sure why— until her eyes caught the glint of light reflecting off her left hand.
Her engagement ring, the huge diamond glittering under the stage lights, was now visible to everyone as she used that hand to hold up the mic.
Luna couldn’t help but giggle, understanding immediately. Of course, they would react to that. This was the first time anyone had properly seen her wear the ring in public since the engagement news broke, and it was impossible to miss.
She waited patiently for the noise to die down, though her amusement was evident in the small laugh that escaped her lips. She raised her right hand slightly, signaling for the crowd to calm down. “Shh…” she hushed them playfully, the warmth of her tone making it impossible for the fans not to fall in love with her all over again. The stadium quieted, but just barely, the energy still crackling in the air.
“Hi, Carats!” Luna greeted brightly, her voice amplified through the speakers, instantly met with another round of enthusiastic cheers. Her smile widened as she continued, her heart swelling at the overwhelming response. “It’s your Luna.” She paused, letting the cheers wash over her again, feeling the adrenaline kick back into her veins.
“I’m so excited to be here with all of you tonight,” she continued her tone a mix of sincerity and excitement. Her eyes scanned the crowd again, drinking in the sight of all the fans who had come out to support them. “Opening the world tour in Goyang… It feels surreal.” She smiled, the sentiment clear in her voice. The fans responded with more cheers, their excitement palpable.
“I’ve missed you guys so much, and I’m so ready to make this an unforgettable night. Are you ready?”
The stadium erupted once more in response, and Luna’s heart soared. She knew, without a doubt, that this was going to be a night they would all remember for the rest of their lives.
Luna was just about to continue her ment, feeling the excitement of the crowd and the energy radiating from every corner of the arena, when the screams around her suddenly surged to a deafening level.
It was so loud that it sent a jolt through her, the vibration of thousands of voices hitting her like a wave. She blinked, momentarily stunned by the intensity, her lips parting in confusion as she glanced around.
“Why?” she mouthed silently, furrowing her brows as she looked down at the pit directly in front of the stage.
Her eyes scanned the faces of the fans closest to her, searching for any sign of what could be causing the commotion. But all she could see were the fans pointing wildly behind her, their faces alight with excitement and disbelief.
Before Luna could fully process what was happening, the members’ shouts reached her ears.
“Jeonghan-ah!” Seungcheol exclaimed, followed by Seungkwan and Dokyeom who chorused, “Jeonghan hyung!”
“Hyung!” echoed through the speakers, their voices overlapping in a mixture of excitement and joy.
Luna’s heart skipped a beat.
She turned so fast that her hair fanned out behind her, whipping around in the rush. Her eyes immediately flew to the massive LED screen behind her, and there, on the other side of the screen— clear as day— was Jeonghan.
Her Jeonghan.
He was sitting in the VIP box, slightly off to the side, his phone raised in front of him.
Luna’s breath caught in her throat when she realized what he was doing— he had been filming her. From the moment her ment started, Jeonghan had been recording, and even now, his phone was still pointed at her, capturing every second of her on the big screen for all to see.
A huge smile broke out across Luna’s face, uncontrollable and radiant. Her heart swelled, a mix of affection and disbelief flooding her chest.
Despite the face mask covering the lower half of his face, there was no mistaking it— it was him.
His presence was unmistakable, and the way he waved at the camera, greeting the fans with that familiar charm, made it all the more real.
The entire arena seemed to vibrate with excitement as Luna felt her emotions catch up with her. She could barely tear her eyes away from the screen, but when she did, her gaze found him in real life. Her eyes locked onto him, sitting in the VIP box at the top of the stadium, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world faded away.
It may sound cliché but she fell in love all over again.
His simple, unwavering presence— here, in the middle of everything— was enough to make her heart race, and the love she felt for him deepened, filling every corner of her being.
Luna brought the mic to her lips, a laugh bubbling up in her throat as she shook her head. Without thinking, she playfully yelled, “Ya! Yoon Jeonghan!” Her voice came out as a half-whine, half-scream, making the members around her burst into laughter.
The fans, already whipped into a frenzy, screamed even louder at her words, the energy reaching a fever pitch. Luna grinned, unable to help herself, her laughter mixing with the cheers. The other members joined in, their amusement clear as they teased her.
“I miss you,” Luna added, her voice soft but clear over the speakers.
And that was it— absolute pandemonium.
The stadium exploded, the screams of the fans echoing through every corner of the arena, drowning out everything else. Luna couldn’t help but laugh again, the sheer magnitude of the moment hitting her all at once.
But it didn’t stop there.
Jeonghan, ever the showman, lifted his phone higher for everyone to see. The camera zoomed in on the LED screen, and the crowd collectively gasped.
Displayed on Jeonghan’s lock screen was a picture of Luna. Not just any picture— one from a date they had taken in Japan a few years ago, one of their private moments now shared with thousands.
The arena went absolutely insane, the noise level so high it almost shook the stage beneath their feet.
Luna’s face flushed bright red, her hand flying to her mouth in a futile attempt to hide her embarrassment. She turned around quickly, facing the back of the stage, her shoulders shaking with laughter.
The members around her were jumping up and down, laughing so hard they were barely standing still, their teasing relentless.
“Oh my god, Jeonghan hyung is such a romantic!”Seungkwan shouted, grinning from ear to ear.
“Is that from your date?” Joshua teased, nudging Luna playfully.
“Jiyeonie noona is blushing!” Dino called out as he pointed at her making the others laugh even harder.
Luna turned back around, her face still flushed as she dared to peek at the big screen again. Jeonghan was still there, but now he was pointing at the picture on his phone, then at himself, and then he dramatically pointed at his cheek, a playful demand for a kiss.
The crowd went wild, the screams reaching an ear-piercing level as fans caught on to what he was asking for.
“I think he is asking for a kiss,” Seungkwan exclaimed, laughing.
Luna couldn’t help but giggle, her heart racing with a mix of affection and embarrassment. She brought the mic up to her lips, still smiling as she faced Jeonghan’s side at the VIP box. “Alright, alright,” she said playfully, her voice ringing through the stadium.
Then, with exaggerated flair, she blew him a flying kiss, her hand gracefully sending it his way.
The moment her hand dropped, Jeonghan dramatically threw himself back into his seat, clutching his chest as if he had been struck by her kiss.
His playful reaction made the fans go even crazier, and the members around Luna erupted into laughter once again, their teasing and joy filling the stage.
“Look at him, he’s down!” Dokyeom shouted, pretending to fall over in mock imitation of Jeonghan.
“That’s it, he’s been hit!” Hoshi added, cackling.
Luna’s laughter was loud and genuine, her heart full to the brim as she watched Jeonghan’s antics. The fans, the members, and even she herself couldn’t stop laughing.
It was chaos, pure and beautiful chaos, the kind that made nights like these unforgettable.
After the playful chaos with Jeonghan finally settled, the rest of the members resumed their opening ments, their laughter slowly giving way to more composed introductions and heartfelt words for the audience.
Luna, still feeling the lingering warmth from Jeonghan’s surprise, smiled softly to herself as each member took turns speaking. The energy from the fans was infectious, their excitement palpable in the air, and Luna could feel it vibrating through her body as she stood there.
Her heart was full, and despite the adrenaline still pulsing in her veins, a sense of peace settled over her.
As the ments drew to a close, the lights dimmed once more, and the show continued. The familiar rhythm of concert life took over, and the intense but thrilling rush of performing for thousands blended with the organized chaos behind the scenes.
Luna, along with the rest of the members, darted backstage after each set, the heavy weight of sweat-soaked outfits quickly replaced with fresh, intricately designed costumes for the next round of performances. Staff swarmed them, deft hands touching up makeup, fixing stray hairs, and ensuring every detail was perfect for the next stage.
The transitions were fast and seamless, but it was a routine they all knew well. Even though their hearts were pounding from the intensity of the performances, there was an unspoken synchronization between them and the crew that made everything flow smoothly.
Hairdressers would gently direct Luna into place, powdering her face or dabbing at her forehead to control the sweat, while stylists adjusted her new outfit with quick but precise movements, pulling at seams, fastening zippers, and checking accessories.
All of it was part of the dance behind the curtain— a carefully orchestrated chaos that Luna thrived in.
She barely had time to think as they moved from one stage to the next, the brief moments of calm between sets filled with the hurried energy of preparation.
And yet, amidst the rush, Luna found small pockets of time to catch her breath. When there was a moment— perhaps while waiting for the final adjustments to her outfit, or in the seconds before they rushed back onstage— she would glance at her phone.
Jeonghan, ever the dork, had been texting her nonstop from his seat in the VIP box, live-commentating as though he weren’t right there watching the whole thing in person.
His messages were ridiculous but endearing, a constant stream of compliments and observations that made her smile even when she was exhausted.
Between texts about how she nailed a particular move or how amazing she looked in her current outfit, Luna found herself laughing under her breath. Jeonghan’s enthusiasm for her performances, even though he had seen her on stage countless times, never seemed to wane.
His words, no matter how silly or over-the-top, made her feel seen and calm— like she was the only person in the room, even though there were thousands watching her.
As the show progressed, Luna slipped into the rhythm of it all. Each costume change, each song, each interaction with the fans— it all blurred into a heady mixture of excitement, adrenaline, and joy.
But through it all, there was Jeonghan, his presence like a tether grounding her, even from afar. She could feel his eyes on her, even when she wasn’t looking in his direction. And whenever she had a spare moment to breathe backstage, she’d quickly type back a teasing reply, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at his words.
It was like any other concert in some ways— the fast pace, the never-ending flow of energy— but at the same time, it was different.
There was a lightness in her heart she hadn’t felt since Jeonghan left for his enlistment. His presence here, even just in the audience, brought her comfort in a way that made this concert feel special, as if this night was theirs alone, even in front of thousands.
As the concert reached its halfway mark, the energy in the arena surged once more as the opening notes of ‘Good to Me’ filled the space. The pulsating beat and rhythmic synths set the mood for the song, its sensual yet intense tone capturing the attention of everyone in the stadium.
Luna felt a thrill run through her as she got into position, preparing for her part. This song held a special significance tonight, more so than it ever had before.
This song in particular is about desire, about someone craving the presence and touch of someone else who is always good to them— both emotionally and physically. The lyrics were bold and full of passion, and every time they performed it, it felt like they were laying bare their emotions for all to see.
But tonight, for Luna, those lyrics held an even deeper meaning.
As the first verse unfolded, the members took turns with their lines, their movements synchronized and sharp, every gesture purposeful. The choreography was fluid, with a mix of subtle sensuality and power, perfectly matching the song’s intensity. When it was Luna’s turn to sing, her voice cut through the air, clear and confident.
“‘Cause you, you're my everything, we are a match. Cause you, you're my everyday, you also know it.’”
Her eyes drifted toward the VIP section, where she knew Jeonghan was watching. She sang the lyrics as if they were meant for him and him alone. Her gaze locked on the spot where he sat, a subtle smile playing on her lips as she poured every bit of emotion into the words.
“‘I need you, you need me. Cause you, you already know, everything is you, you.’”
The song spoke of someone whose presence was irresistible, someone who made everything feel right, even when things were difficult. And right now, Luna couldn’t help but direct those words to Jeonghan, who had been her rock, her constant source of support, even though he wasn’t physically by her side these days.
When Jeonghan’s usual part in the song came up, a brief instrumental break building the anticipation, Luna seamlessly took over his lines, her voice rich with emotion as she sang in his place.
“‘You did this once before, only by looking at your eyes I can tell, whatever may happen, I want to know this emotion.’”
She turned fully to where Jeonghan sat, her eyes sparkling under the stage lights as she sang to him, her voice softening slightly as though the thousands of fans didn’t exist at that moment.
It was just her and him.
She could feel the weight of her emotions bubbling up as she sang to him, every word wrapped in the longing she had felt since he left for his enlistment.
The lyrics— about someone being so good to her, about how everything about that person was perfect— took on a whole new meaning now.
It wasn’t just a song anymore; it was her heart speaking to Jeonghan.
As the chorus hit again, the music swelled, and Luna moved back into the choreography, her body syncing with the rest of the members as they danced with precision and grace. The lights flashed in rhythm, and she could hear the deafening screams of the fans, though the sound was muffled by her in-ear monitors. The energy was electric, but amidst the chaos, something unexpected happened.
Suddenly, Jeonghan’s face appeared on the massive LED screen behind them, catching both Luna and the other members off guard. The audience roared in response, the sudden sight of him sending a wave of excitement through the arena.
He was watching Luna with that familiar, soft smile in his eyes, his phone held up to capture the moment as if he couldn’t get enough of watching her perform.
Luna’s breath hitched for a split second, but then a smile broke across her face. She couldn’t help but laugh as she continued to sing, her movements a bit more playful now as she pointed toward the screen where Jeonghan’s face loomed above them all. The rest of the members joined in on the fun, laughing and teasing her as they danced and sang around her, clearly enjoying the moment as much as the fans were.
The fans, who were already losing their minds, screamed even louder when they realized Jeonghan was watching his fiancée with such open admiration. Luna playfully rolled her eyes, her heart swelling as she continued to sing and dance, now with a renewed sense of joy.
For a few seconds, it felt like everything in the world was perfect. Jeonghan, despite not being on stage, was still a part of the performance in his own way, and the fact that Luna had been dedicating this song to him all along made it even sweeter. She twirled with the rhythm, her body moving effortlessly through the steps as she threw a playful glance at where Jeonghan sat.
And for that brief moment, as she danced and sang her heart out, Luna felt like the distance between them was nothing. It was as if he were right there with her on stage, sharing the spotlight.
As the final notes of ‘Good to Me’ faded out, Luna couldn’t help but glance once more toward the VIP section, her heart fluttering as she thought of him watching her.
The lights dimmed on stage as the last notes of their set echoed throughout the arena. With a collective breath, the members hurried off the stage, rushing toward the backstage area in their usual post-performance frenzy.
It was the familiar chaos of concerts: stylists, makeup artists, and hair stylists all buzzing around, ready to get them prepped for the next set. Luna felt the residual adrenaline in her veins, her chest heaving as she tried to steady her breathing. The fan in front of her chair whirred softly, its cool breeze hitting her flushed face as she sipped from her water bottle.
Her body was still buzzing with energy from their performance, her skin damp from sweat, strands of her hair sticking to her temples. She sat in front of the mirror in her chair, eyes half-closed, her hands limp at her sides as multiple people fussed over her.
One person gently dabbed at her face with a sponge, touching up her makeup, while another tugged at her hair, fixing strands that had come loose during their vigorous dancing. Luna sat still, letting them work, only opening her eyes every now and then to check her reflection, making sure everything was back in place.
Her breathing was finally starting to slow down, the pounding of her heart calming after the rush of the performance. She leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the vanity in front of her, watching the reflection of her teammates in the mirrors around her as they too got their touch-ups.
The room was alive with activity, the noise of the concert still a faint echo from the stage outside.
But just as she was gathering herself for the next half of the show, a few crew members came in, a noticeable tension in their steps. Luna straightened slightly in her seat as one of them approached Seungcheol, the leader, with a serious expression.
“There’s been a small fire on stage,” the crew member announced, causing the entire room to fall silent. Luna’s stomach dropped, her eyes widening in shock as she quickly glanced at the other members.
Everyone froze for a second, processing what they had just heard.
A fire?
Before any of them could react, the crew member quickly continued, raising his hands to reassure them. “It’s nothing major! Just a light fixture caught fire, but the staff is already handling it.”
Relief washed over the room, but the air still felt tense. Questions were thrown around in rapid succession, the members’ voices overlapping as they expressed their concerns.
“Is everyone okay?”
“Is everything under control?”
“Is anyone hurt?”
“Can we still continue the show?”
“How long do you think it’ll take?”
Seungcheol, ever the responsible leader, was busy talking to the staff, his voice low but firm as he tried to get more details.
Luna, though still a little shaken by the news, stood up from her chair, adjusting her sleeves as she walked over to where the rest of the members were gathered. Her concern mirrored theirs, but the crew assured them that the situation was being managed.
“We’ll need to delay the show for a few minutes while we make sure everything is safe before you can continue,” another crew member explained, and Luna could feel the unease in the room settle somewhat.
The staff’s confidence was reassuring, but the worry for the fans still lingered.
Luna stood near the center of the group, her fingers absentmindedly fixing the cuffs of her outfit as they all discussed the situation. “As long as everyone is fine and no one is hurt–” she began, her voice steady despite the worry she felt.
But before she could finish her sentence, something felt… off.
The room grew a little quieter, and she noticed some of the members stifling laughter. Seungkwan was biting his lip, trying not to give anything away, while Minghao’s eyes sparkled mischievously as he watched something— or someone— behind her.
Confused, Luna paused, looking down at her sleeves as she fiddled with the fabric. She didn’t notice the figure that had quietly slipped into the room behind her, moving with the practiced stealth that only one person could pull off.
Suddenly, a familiar voice spoke from beside her, its gentle tone making her heart skip a beat, though she was so used to it, that she didn’t even question it at first.
“Everyone is fine,” the voice said smoothly, almost casually. “The staff are handling it.”
Without even glancing up, Luna nodded, completely absentminded. “That’s good,” she murmured, still focused on adjusting her outfit.
The members erupted into laughter from in front of her, and that’s when it hit her.
Wait… that voice.
Her hands froze mid-adjustment. Slowly, Luna’s eyes widened, and she turned her head to the side, not fully registering what had just happened. But when she finally looked to her left and saw who was standing next to her, she did a double take, her breath catching in her throat.
“Hannie?!”
Jeonghan stood there, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of his eyes, his face partially hidden behind a mask but unmistakable to her.
She barely had time to process it before a squeal of delight escaped her lips, and without thinking, she launched herself at him, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.
Jeonghan chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around her just as tightly. “You really didn’t notice me until now?” he teased, his voice filled with amusement.
Luna only buried her face into his chest, her heart pounding with a mixture of surprise and overwhelming happiness. “I— how are you—?” she stammered, her voice muffled against him.
He pulled his mask down slightly, just enough to press a soft kiss to the temple of her head, his hand coming up to cradle the back of her neck gently. “Just wanted to make sure you guys are alright,” he whispered, laughing softly against her hair.
The rest of the members, still watching with wide smiles, couldn’t help but laugh at her delayed reaction.
“We are alright by the way. Thank you for asking!” Seungkwan said sarcastically considering all Jeonghan’s focus was on Luna.
“Seriously, no one’s that used to someone’s voice,” Hoshi added, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
Luna pulled back just enough to look up at Jeonghan, still holding onto him as her laughter bubbled out. She swatted at his chest playfully. “You sneak!”
Jeonghan grinned down at her, his arms not letting her go just yet. “You should know by now I love surprising you.”
And despite the chaos of the moment, despite the earlier worry about the fire, Luna couldn’t stop smiling. Being in his arms, surrounded by her members, with the concert still buzzing around them— it was perfect.
Even in the most unexpected of circumstances, with a fire delay and a surprise visit, everything felt right.
Jeonghan stayed with them for what felt like the briefest twenty minutes of Luna’s life, though time itself seemed to stretch and bend while he was by her side.
From the moment he appeared behind her, she felt his presence like an anchor, grounding her amidst the bustle of their delayed concert.
Jeonghan hadn’t let go of her once, keeping her close, his hands never straying far from her skin. The warmth of his touch lingered in every kiss he pressed— soft and tender against her forehead, her temple, the nook of her neck, the curve of her cheek, and even the subtle brush of his lips against her own when the others weren’t watching too closely.
His affection was quiet but ever-present, each kiss a reminder of how much they had missed each other.
It felt like he was memorizing her in those fleeting moments as if they were sneaking time in their usual bubble despite the chaos around them.
When his lips found the back of her hand, her engagement ring cool beneath his touch, Luna’s heart swelled. He had always been tactile with her, but tonight, it felt like every kiss, every touch held extra weight. Each one was a silent acknowledgment of everything they had been through together— of how much they meant to one another, of how much he wished he could be with her on that stage.
The rest of the members let them have their quiet reunion without interruption. They continued chatting with Jeonghan, catching up on things, but they gave the couple their space. Despite being surrounded by people, the world felt small and intimate, just for them.
But twenty minutes was never enough.
Eventually, the crew came back to inform them that everything was under control, and the stage had been cleared. The fire was contained and minor— no one had been hurt, and nothing had escalated.
The relief that washed over Luna was palpable, though it was bittersweet because it meant Jeonghan would have to go back to his seat.
She hadn’t wanted to let him go, but as she watched him flash her a reassuring smile, she knew he would be watching, cheering her on just like before. He pressed one final kiss on her lips, his hand lingering on hers for a brief moment before he slipped out of the room.
The twenty-minute delay had passed like a blink, and though they were slightly behind schedule, none of the members seemed to care. They were just grateful that the situation hadn’t spiraled into something worse.
Once they were cleared to go, the members gathered themselves, adjusting their outfits and shaking off any lingering tension.
The fire was a hiccup, but the show had to go on.
And it did— seamlessly.
As they returned to the stage, the energy from the fans was as vibrant as ever. Jeonghan had taken his seat again, watching from his place in the audience, and Luna couldn’t help but glance in his direction, feeling that familiar spark knowing he was there, watching her. She felt renewed, the anxiety from earlier gone as they launched into their next set.
Song after song, they poured everything they had into their performances. The members danced and sang with such passion, interacting with the fans and throwing themselves into their signature antics.
It wasn’t a SEVENTEEN show without a few hilarious, chaotic moments, and despite the earlier scare, they didn’t hold back. The fans were relieved that everything had been handled, roared with approval, feeding off the energy the group gave.
Of course, there were jokes about the fire.
Some of the members couldn’t resist cracking a few light-hearted comments, saying the fire had only started because their performances were just that hot. Seungkwan, Hoshi, and even Dokyeom threw in their quips, teasing that the stage couldn’t handle their intensity, eliciting more laughter from the crowd.
The fans ate it up, cheering and laughing as the members played off the unexpected situation with ease.
And in the middle of it all, Luna found herself back in her element. The slight delay faded into the background as the show flowed effortlessly from one set to the next. She moved with the music, her voice blending with the others, her body moving in sync with the choreography she knew so well.
Every now and then, she’d sneak another glance toward Jeonghan, catching his gaze even from afar, feeling that unspoken connection between them.
As the night wore on, the setlist began to wind down. They’d gone from high-energy songs to their slower, more emotional tracks, each moment imbued with meaning. The atmosphere in the arena shifted as the fans realized they were nearing the end of the show.
Before they knew it, they were standing on the stage, looking out at the sea of fans, about to perform their final song for the night. Luna’s chest tightened with emotion, a mix of pride and awe at what they had accomplished.
The first night of their world tour was coming to a close, and it had been everything they’d hoped for— despite the unexpected bumps along the way.
As the final notes played, Luna felt the bittersweetness of the moment sink in.
The first day of their tour was over.
But it was only the beginning.
The moment Luna stepped behind the stage, the roar of the crowd still echoed in her ears, but the rush of adrenaline hadn’t yet settled. It thrummed beneath her skin, buzzing like static as their crew and staff cheered loudly, creating a vibrant wall of sound that filled the backstage area.
Members of the team, the staff, and the crew clapped for them, congratulating them on a successful opening night, their faces beaming with pride. Several cameras followed their every move, capturing the behind-the-scenes footage that would later be used for DVDs and special releases for the fans, a memory to be immortalized.
Hoshi and Mingyu were already talking to one of the cameras, playfully waving and making exaggerated poses, their faces red from exertion but their spirits sky-high. The others mingled around, some talking to the crew, others exchanging breathless laughs as they tried to steady their breathing after the intense finale.
But Luna’s mind wasn’t on the cameras, the chaos of the crew, or the noise swirling around them. Her eyes, sharp and singular in their focus, found him immediately.
Jeonghan was standing just beyond the cluster of people, waiting for them— and more specifically, waiting for her.
He had removed his mask, revealing the full brilliance of his smile, and her heart fluttered at the sight. It was the same smile that had always undone her. The same smile that now, five years into their relationship and officially out in the open, still made her feel like she was falling in love all over again.
Luna’s body reacted before her mind fully registered the thought, and before she knew it, she was running. Bolting, really— her legs carrying her with the kind of speed she reserved for the stage, for the most high-energy moments of a performance.
But this? This was pure, uncontainable emotion.
The excitement of seeing him again, of having him waiting for her so openly, so proudly, after everything they’d been through.
She was running toward her home.
And the fans in the nearby seats could see it all.
The backstage area was still partially exposed to the arena, especially the seats that stretched upward, giving some fans a perfect vantage point. As Luna dashed across the back, the fans who could see her immediately erupted into cheers, their voices rising in a frenzy.
Pandemonium broke out as the realization hit that she was running straight into Jeonghan’s arms. The fans screamed, some pulling out their phones, others clutching their chests as they watched the scene unfold like something out of a drama. The air itself seemed to vibrate with the collective gasp of thousands witnessing the moment.
Jeonghan, waiting with that same easy smile, braced himself just as Luna crashed into him. His arms wrapped around her waist with ease, and with a gentle laugh, he lifted her off the ground, spinning her around effortlessly. Luna’s giggle was light and carefree, the kind of sound that made everything else melt away.
It was just him.
Just her.
Just them.
Luna and Jeonghan.
Jeonghan and Luna.
The moment her feet touched the ground, Luna’s hands came up instinctively, cupping his face as if grounding herself in the reality of his presence. She felt the familiar warmth of his skin beneath her palms, the softness of his hair brushing against her fingers, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.
But Jeonghan, always one step ahead, beat her to it. He leaned down, closing the distance between them, and pressed his lips to hers.
The kiss was gentle, unhurried, filled with the quiet certainty of their love.
Despite the madness surrounding them— the cameras, the crew, the fans, and even the members throwing cheeky glances and comments their way— none of it mattered.
In that moment, it was only the two of them.
Every kiss still felt like it held new meaning— like they were discovering parts of each other they hadn’t yet explored, even after all this time.
The fans were screaming louder now, their cheers mixing with the laughter of their members, who were already teasing them for being so openly affectionate. “Scandalous!” Hoshi's voice echoed in the distance, followed by Dino’s exaggerated gasp, and the others quickly joined in with their own jokes. Seungcheol shook his head, a playful smirk pulling at his lips as he tried to keep the group in line.
But neither Luna nor Jeonghan cared.
They had stopped caring about the opinions of others the moment their relationship became public.
After years of hiding, of sneaking around, and stealing moments where they could, this openness felt like freedom.
No more disguises.
No more secrets.
Just them, unashamedly in love in front of everyone who cared to watch.
Jeonghan pulled away slightly, his lips brushing against her forehead, then her temple, as if sealing the moment with small, lingering kisses. Luna’s heart swelled in her chest, a smile tugging at her lips as she rested her head against his chest for a brief second, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her cheek.
Around them, the world buzzed with excitement, but in his arms, it felt like peace. The cameras kept rolling, capturing every second of the moment, and the fans continued to scream, but none of it mattered.
It was just the two of them, lost in each other, in a love that had weathered time, distance, and now, the scrutiny of the world.
The members laughed louder at the display, throwing more jokes in their direction, but Luna and Jeonghan simply smiled at one another, content in the knowledge that they no longer had anything to hide.
This was their world now, and they were living it fully, unapologetically.
Luna’s bubble of peace with Jeonghan was suddenly burst when Seungkwan’s voice cut through the noise of the backstage area, dripping with exaggerated sarcasm and mock disgust. “We get it, you two love each other, knock it off!”
Jeonghan’s deep, melodic laugh rang out instantly, and Luna couldn’t help but join in, feeling the warmth of their private moment turning into something shared, something lighthearted. The laughter of their teammates blended into the air, creating a symphony of joy around them.
Jeonghan gently parted from her, his hand grazing hers one last time before he turned, arms wide, playfully chasing after Seungkwan with a mischievous grin.
“Seungkwanie,” Jeonghan cooed dramatically, dragging out his name in a sing-song voice, his playful nature in full force.
Seungkwan’s eyes widened as he pretended to scramble away, but it was too late. Jeonghan easily caught up with him, enveloping him in an exaggerated bear hug, both of them stumbling as Jeonghan swayed them from side to side like a father holding a child. Seungkwan groaned in mock suffering but couldn’t stop the smile breaking across his face.
“Why am I always the target of your love?” Seungkwan whined, though his arms returned the hug before half-heartedly trying to push Jeonghan away. “Can’t you just keep your affection for noona?”
“Don’t act like you didn’t dedicate a whole essay for me on Weverse on my birthday,” Jeonghan grinned and ruffled Seungkwan’s hair before finally releasing him, earning a playful shove in return from Seungkwan who pouted, “Shut it.”
“I have so much love to give, Seungkwan,” Jeonghan replied, still laughing.
As the playful banter continued, the group naturally gravitated toward the corridor that led back to their designated waiting room. Conversations and laughter littered the halls, filling the air as they walked, their energy still high from the concert.
It felt like any other day like Jeonghan had never been gone at all, like they hadn’t just gone weeks without his presence on stage or in their daily lives.
Luna found herself walking a few steps behind the group, watching with a smile that spread wide across her face.
It was surreal— Jeonghan, back with them, laughing and joking like no time had passed. For a brief moment, she let herself forget the reality of his military service, letting herself imagine that everything was normal again.
That he had never left and that he would be with them for the rest of the tour.
But as happy as she was to have him back, even if just for tonight, a pang of sadness tugged at her heart.
It wasn’t quite complete. Not without Jun.
She wished he were here with them, completing their chaotic group and filling the room with his quiet but steady presence. With Jeonghan and Jun both gone, it was like a piece of their family was missing. She sighed softly, letting the feeling pass as she reminded herself that Jun would be back soon, too.
It was only a matter of time.
By the time they reached their waiting room, the atmosphere was buzzing with the same energy they carried off the stage.
The room was filled with the familiar sounds of SEVENTEEN— playful banter, teasing remarks, and laughter that echoed off the walls. They were still riding the high of the successful opening night, adrenaline pumping as they began to peel off their performance outfits and transition into their more comfortable clothes.
Some of the members were already seated, pulling off stage shoes with tired groans of relief while others started removing their makeup, faces still flushed from the heat of the stage. The air was thick exhaustion but it was home.
It was the usual post-concert chaos— everyone talking over each other, recounting moments from the show, poking fun at any small mistakes they made during their sets.
Hoshi was standing in front of the mirror, dramatically wiping off his makeup with a makeup wipe. “The energy was insane. I can go another round— I was born for this, you know?” he declared, his voice full of mock drama, earning a round of eye rolls and amused chuckles from the members who are used to Hoshi’s energy.
Luna couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped her as she leaned back into her chair, watching the usual antics unfold around her. Even after years together, the energy in the room was always electric post-concert.
No matter how tired they were, there was something about that post-show buzz that brought out the best— and the most ridiculous— parts of them.
Her gaze drifted to Jeonghan, who was now sitting on the arm of one of the couches, his hair slightly tousled from their earlier reunion. He was watching the members with a soft smile on his face, occasionally throwing in a comment here and there, but mostly content to just soak in the atmosphere.
He caught her looking and flashed her a wink, and her heart did a little flip. She smiled back, warmth flooding her chest. Moments like this were what she cherished most— the simplicity of being together, the feeling of family, of belonging.
The noise around her continued, a comforting, chaotic background to her thoughts as she settled back, letting herself enjoy the moment.
This was what she loved— being surrounded by people she cared about, performing with them, and knowing that despite everything, they would always find their way back to each other.
As she sat there, letting the laughter wash over her, she couldn’t help but feel grateful. Grateful for her members, for their fans, and for moments like this— where everything felt perfect, even if it was just for a little while.
Luna leaned back in her chair, sighing softly with contentment. The concert had gone well, their first night was a success, and even with the unexpected fire, they’d managed to pull through together.
Unbeknownst to her, Jeonghan’s gaze had been fixed on her for several moments now, watching her quietly from his seat. He had a way of seeing her, really seeing her, even when she was lost in her own thoughts. His heart warmed at the sight of her— a mix of strength and softness, glowing in the afterglow of their performance.
Without a word, Jeonghan stood up from his spot, his movements so smooth and silent that no one noticed as he crossed the room toward her. He gently caressed her arm, his touch soft and familiar.
Luna glanced up at him, her heart skipping a beat at the sudden closeness. There were no questions in her eyes, just trust. Without needing to say anything, she let him guide her to a more secluded corner of the room, away from the others, away from the bustling noise of post-concert excitement.
Jeonghan turned toward her, a soft smile lighting up his face as he gazed down at her. “Hey,” he said, his voice a warm melody that sent a shiver down her spine.
“Hi,” Luna smiled back, her voice soft, and without hesitation, their hands found each other, fingers naturally intertwining.
The world around them faded, and it was just the two of them again, wrapped in their bubble of comfort and affection.
Jeonghan’s hand rose to her face, gently brushing a few strands of hair away. His fingers lightly traced her cheek as his thumb caressed her skin, his touch tender and careful, as if she were something delicate.
“You did such a good job earlier,” he cooed, his voice low and soothing, the tone that always made her knees feel weak. His fingers continued to brush over her cheek, and then, slowly, he leaned in, pressing soft kisses to the back of her hand, one after the other. “Did you enjoy it?” he asked, his lips now grazing the tips of her fingers, sending little jolts of warmth through her.
Luna felt her breath hitch slightly, the wall behind her suddenly a blessing as it was the only thing keeping her steady.
Jeonghan’s soft, gentle tone— this was her weakness and he knew this. She tried to compose herself, but the way he doted on her, the way he made her feel like she was the center of his universe, made it difficult to remain standing.
“I loved it,” Luna finally managed, her voice a little breathless, eyes locked on his.
Jeonghan chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he continued his gentle teasing. “You were amazing out there. But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised— you always are.” His thumb brushed against her lower lip, and her heart fluttered in response.
Luna’s lips parted slightly at his touch, her usual assertive demeanor slipping away in the face of his gentle cooing. “Stop, you’re making me blush,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Blushing suits you,” Jeonghan teased, leaning down slightly until his forehead nearly touched hers. His lips ghosted over the tip of her nose as he continued to murmur, “I missed seeing you like this, Nana-ya.”
Luna’s cheeks burned with warmth, and she let out a soft laugh, tilting her head back against the wall. “You’re the only reason why I am like this.”
“Good,” he grinned, clearly pleased with himself. His thumb brushed her cheek again, his other hand lifting her left hand to his lips once more. He kissed each of her fingers, his lips lingering a bit longer this time, his gaze never leaving hers.
She could feel the butterflies swirling in her stomach, her mind spinning under his gaze.
Then, just as naturally as ever, Jeonghan reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small box. It was sleek, the kind that made Luna’s breath catch in her throat. Without a word, he placed it in her hand, his expression soft but serious.
Luna stared at the box for a moment, her heart racing. She pouted up at him, curiosity and a hint of confusion in her eyes. “What is this?” she asked, her voice tinged with wonder.
Jeonghan’s smile softened, his eyes growing tender as he spoke. “I’ll be watching the show again tomorrow but you know I won’t be able to watch every single one, right? I won’t be able to travel outside the country either,” he began, his voice gentle, knowing how sensitive this topic was for her.
Luna’s heart clenched at his words. She knew this reality all too well. He wouldn’t always be with them, with her, during the tour. It was a thought that had lingered in the back of her mind all night.
As she opened the box, her breath caught again. Inside was a delicate gold band bracelet. Simple, elegant, and timeless— just like him. Luna took it out carefully, holding it in her palm, and that’s when she noticed the engraving.
Her heart swelled as she read the words etched into the gold:
Breathe. It’s just you and me. Nothing else.
Jeonghan’s forehead was suddenly pressed against hers, their shared ritual grounding her, just like it always had. He took the bracelet from her hand, slipping it around her left wrist, fastening it carefully as though it were the most precious thing in the world. “This is so you won’t forget our words to each other,” he whispered.
Luna’s eyes filled with tears, and she looked up at him, her lips trembling into a pout. “Hannie…” she murmured, her voice barely audible.
“Don’t cry,” Jeonghan cooed softly, pulling back just enough to press a tender kiss to her forehead. His lips lingered there before he pulled away and lifted the sleeve of his own jacket. “Look,” he said, showing her his own matching bracelet. “We match.”
Luna sniffled and pushed at his chest playfully, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You’re always the reason for my tears, you know that right?” she huffed, though her smile betrayed her true feelings.
Jeonghan chuckled, his laugh low and rich. “I know,” he teased, “You just love me so much.”
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile. “When did you even have the time to do this?” she asked, glancing down at the bracelet again, admiring the way the light reflected off the gold.
Jeonghan’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he winked at her. “I have all the time in the world when it comes to you.”
Luna let out a scoff of disbelief, a laugh escaping her lips. “You’ve gotten cheesier.”
Jeonghan smirked, his retort quick and cool. “Only for you, pretty girl.”
Luna raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a playful smile as she lightly tapped his chest. “You know, I used to think you were all serious and mysterious,” she teased, her voice light and full of amusement. “Turns out, you’re just a huge softie.”
Jeonghan chuckled, his arms winding back around her waist, pulling her closer as he leaned down. “A softie? Is that what I am?” His voice was low, teasing, with that familiar silky tone that always sent a rush of warmth through her. “Well, I’m only like this because I have you to be soft for.”
Luna felt her cheeks heat up again, but she wasn’t about to let him win that easily. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she muttered, trying to sound nonchalant, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.
Jeonghan leaned in even closer, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, “And you’re lucky I can’t resist you.” He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his eyes sparkling with affection. “I mean, look at you,” he continued, his voice soft and tender now. “How could I not be completely wrapped around your finger? You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”
Luna’s heart fluttered at his words, the sincerity in his tone making her pulse quicken. She tried to compose herself, but it was impossible with the way he was looking at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.
“I think I have some idea,” she replied, her voice softening as she met his gaze head-on.
Jeonghan laughed, that light, airy sound that always made her chest feel lighter. “You think?” he teased, brushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “You know you’re everything to me, right?”
Luna’s breath caught at the sudden tenderness in his words. She could feel her heart swelling in her chest, the emotion almost overwhelming. “Han…” she whispered, her voice catching in her throat.
He gently cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek in the softest of touches. “No, really,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t say it enough, but you’re my everything, Jiyeon. No matter where I am, or what’s going on, you’re always on my mind.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead, then her nose, and finally, her lips. It was soft, gentle, full of love and warmth. “You make everything better.”
Luna closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of his lips on hers, the warmth of his touch, the security of his presence. “You have no idea how much I needed to hear that,” she murmured when they pulled apart. Her voice was quiet, but filled with so much emotion it nearly cracked. “Especially now… with everything going on.”
Jeonghan nodded, understanding. He pressed another kiss to her forehead, lingering there for a moment. “I know it’s been hard. But I promise you, we’re going to get through it. Even if I can’t be with you every step of the way, I’m still with you.” He took her hand again, lifting it to his lips and kissing her knuckles one by one. “Always.”
Luna’s heart swelled, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, though she blinked them away. “You’re too good to me,” she whispered, her voice shaky but full of love.
Jeonghan smiled, his eyes soft as he gazed at her. “I just want to take care of you, that’s all.” He kissed the inside of her wrist, then the bracelet, before looking back up at her. “And I will. Even if I’m not physically there, I’ll always be with you. This…” He gestured to the bracelet, then to his matching one. “This is just a reminder. You and me. Nothing else.”
“Just us. Nothing else.” Luna stared at him, her heart so full she thought it might burst. She couldn’t hold back anymore— couldn’t stop the overwhelming wave of love that washed over her. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug, burying her face in his chest. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice muffled against his shirt. “So much.”
Jeonghan’s arms wrapped around her in return, his embrace warm and steady, his lips pressing into her hair. “I love you too, my pretty moon,” he murmured against her, his voice soft and filled with emotion. He pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at her, his hand cupping her face again. “More than anything.”
Their eyes locked, and for a moment, it felt like the world had stopped spinning, leaving just the two of them in their little bubble of love and warmth. Jeonghan leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her lips, slow and full of meaning. When they finally pulled away, Luna couldn’t help the small, content smile that spread across her face.
Jeonghan grinned, his thumb brushing her cheek again. “You’re mine, you know that?” he teased, though there was a soft sincerity behind his words.
Luna laughed softly, her fingers tightening around his. “I’ve always been yours.”
Jeonghan’s eyes sparkled with affection, and he leaned down to kiss her one more time, a smile still on his lips. “And I’ll always be yours.”
He held Luna’s hands tighter, his gaze steady and full of love. “When I finish my service,” he whispered, his voice soft but resolute, “I’m going to marry you. No more waiting, no more delays. I promise.”
Luna’s breath caught in her throat, her heart swelling at his words. She smiled, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, and whispered back, “I’ll be waiting, Hannie. Always.”
At that moment, it was just the two of them again.
Just like Luna’s first monthly evaluation as a trainee… it was just them.
Wrapped up in their little world, their bubble, where nothing else mattered.
It felt as if time had stopped, and for that brief space in time, there was no concert, no cameras, no members.
Luna and Jeonghan.
Jeonghan and Luna.
It’s always been the two of them together.
Just them, as it had always been, and as it always would be.
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ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUEST AND ASK ME ANYTHING!
: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡ - lunaఌ
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killualoverr · 5 months ago
Note
can you do some cuddle headcanons for the main four? That's if you don't mind! Thank you🫶
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₊ ☆ ‧₊˚ → main four (hxh) cuddling headcanons!
cw: fluff, a teeny tiny of angst in kurapika’s part
note: i wrote this last night and started on 2 more request right after #grinder anyway, i hope you enjoy! i had a lot of fun writing this (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)!
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- d1 cuddler right here
- this boy LOVES clinging onto you in any possible way
- anyway
- really warm, he’s like a personal heater
- can be big spoon and little spoon!
- he just loves having you in his and/or being in your arms so much
- i feel like his love language is physical touch so i just see cuddling being a frequent activity in your relationship, it’s one of his favorite things
- cannot stay in one position for the life of him, one minute he has his arms wrapped around with your head in his chest you then the next he’s borderline on top of you
- one time aunt mito walked in on you both cuddling and she has not let you live it down
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- killua is gets really shy with physical affection, both giving and receiving. he doesn't know how to react. he blushes like crazy, gets butterflies, its just an unfamiliar feeling, and for that he hates it, yet somehow craves it at the same time. he’s so insanely touch starved
- he’s is great at it when he gets used to the affection though
- some (most) times he falls asleep while you guys cuddle, your presence is just comforting to him.
- prefers being big spoon :3
- he wraps his arm around your waist, face turning ruby red as he does so.
- i don’t see him being physically affectionate too much, but the times he’s feeling clingy he’s so annoying omg
- BUTTTT the boy soon stops his whining as he eventually has his wrapped arms around you. (or vice versa)
- loves having his hair played with
- sigh he’s so insanely cat coded
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- poor baby works so hard ☹️, so on the rare occasions he has time to himself he spends it with you.
- cuddling/physical affection in general is something i see him liking
- he rests his head on your shoulder or chest with his arms wrapped tightly around you
- doesn’t mind being big spoon or small spoon
- he just likes being close to you. he feels so safe and comfortable around you, he ends up falling asleep in that position.
- he sometimes has nightmares and wakes up in the middle of the night
- holding him is the only thing that eases his pain on nights like those
- you brighten up his life and reduce his stress so much
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- leorio loves cuddling so much
- he just likes physical affection in general tbh
- after a long, tiring day of studying, it’s one of his favorite things to do.
- honestly, he's so whiny when he's tired and just wants to lay on top of you.
- he’s like 6 ft tall y’all so i feel like he’s just big spoon most of the time 😭
- medical school and everything takes up a lot of time, so this results in a lot of late night cuddling
- orrrrrr if it’s morning time, you’re both sitting on the couch or something and he just has you in his arms, reading something related to what he’s studying.
- a lot of the times he end up falling asleep though 😭 he’ll talk in his sleep, mumbling about something he read like “mmphnrmm the respiratory system has 7 main partsmmpghmh…”
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lilacs-stars · 5 months ago
Text
moon + tides
this is part 1, read part 2 here! pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested) SUMMARY: you, ariel's daughter, find yourself in a strange relationship with the one and only infamous pirate captain, who's absolutely obsessed with you GENRE: yandere, a bit of angst, some comforting fluff here and there, especially at the end CW: a few mentions of violence, someone walking a plank, mentions of drowning, some suggestive material, nothing too graphic though WC: 4.2k
A/N: this req was really fun to write! I might have gotten a bit carried away, heh...this part includes the backstory of how you two got together and the first part of the req, and the second part will include the rest of it. hope you guys enjoy reading this cause I definitely put some hard work into it lol. also please give me feedback and suggestions, I'd really like to know your thoughts!
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If you could go back, would you change what happened?
This is something that you often ask yourself. 
You think about that fateful day frequently. It was the summer before your first year at Merlin Academy. You had finally convinced your parents, the famed mermaid Ariel and her Prince Eric, to let you go for a swim unsupervised. Being half-mermaid, half-human allowed you to transform back and forth at will. And although life on land was pretty good, your heart always ached to go back to the sea, to feel the cold, salty water as it engulfs you. To race along the reefs, tail swishing back and forth, allowing you to reach speeds far past what your human form can do. To leisurely swim amongst the many species of fish and plants that created the world of the ocean. To go back home.
Your parents had already gone over the rules with you hundreds of time, to the point where you could recite each one of them word for word: “Don’t go past the boundaries,” “Don’t approach any animals you don’t know,” “Don’t go so deep where you can’t see any light,” “Come out at the first sign of bad weather,” and, most importantly, “Do not, under any circumstances, interact with any humans.”
Your mother may be renowned for rescuing a stranger from the unrelenting grasps of the sea—if she hadn’t, you wouldn’t even be here right now—but that was a very rare case. Far more often than not, mermaid interactions with humans out on the waters ended up in the mermaid being tortured, held hostage, or even killed.
You knew the rules by heart, and yet, maybe it was because of your young age, you still broke them. You weren’t really aware of your actions in the moment; one second, you were swimming alongside a pod of dolphins, racing against the currents. The next, you heard loud voices and realized that almost directly above you, yet still a good few dozen meters away, was some sort of ship.
You had ducked down next to a big sponge, peering up apprehensively. It was at that moment you realized that you were far outside of the boundaries set for you by your parents. You should have turned back, should have swam back home, but there was something about the ship, something that intrigued you so much it forced you to stay in place.
A few moments passed, and seeing as there was no commotion, you let your curiosity get the better of you. After all, that ship shouldn’t even have been out there. Slowly, you crept closer and closer to the surface, making sure to remain in the shadows. The noises were becoming clearer; you could make out people’s voices now. But they still weren’t sharp enough for you to understand what they were saying.
Finally, you took the risk and poked your head out of the water near the rear of the ship. The sight before you elicited a sharp gasp, and made you wish you had just gone back when you still had the chance. 
Extended from the side of the ship was a long, wooden plank. Standing on one side of it (the safe end), was a man, gagged, blindfolded, and bound. He looked to be no older than forty, with a scraggly beard and ripped clothes.
A pirate.
Another figure emerged, walking to the edge of the deck. Your reflexes caused you to duck down quickly, so only your eyes were barely above the water. This figure was much younger, with dark brown hair parted neatly and angular features twisted into a wicked smile. He donned a maroon blazer that covered a white shirt with an upturned collar. Something in his left hand shined brilliantly under the sun’s bright rays.
The younger figure laughed, but not in the way one would laugh at a funny joke. He unsheathed a cutlass from his side, using it to poke the back of the man on the plank. 
“You see, Mr. Jones? This is what happens when you cross the most feared pirate captain in all the lands!” the young figure roared as he yanked off the older man’s blindfold, revealing to him his fate. The fear and panic that spread across the man’s face has been forever etched into your mind, even to this day.
You heard the man beg and plea for mercy, watched as every move he made caused the plank to sway even more violently. The pirate captain simply laughed, his crew along with him. Finally, when you suppose he tired of hearing the man grovel, you watched in terror as the captain gave the man a good kick in the back, finally sending him over the edge.
Suddenly, it was like the world was spinning in slow motion. The man plummeting off the wooden platform, falling, falling, falling. His screams muffled by the cloth around his mouth. Then, all too soon, he made contact with the water with a loud splash. 
He sank quickly, devoured by the ocean’s waters within the blink of an eye. Your young, distraught face watched as a few bubbles rose to the surface. Then nothing. All that remained of the man’s existence, all there was to give proof that he had ever even been there, were a few ripples in the water.
That was it.
You were frozen in shock. How–what–why? Your brain could barely string together a comprehensive sentence. All you were sure of was the feeling inside you. You couldn’t quite put it into words, could barely even understand it. But it made your tail ache to move, made you feel as if you simply couldn’t stay in one place any longer.
You dove beneath the surface, frantically swimming towards the direction where you saw the man go under. You kept looking around, searching, but to no avail. You decided to dive deeper, swimming lower and lower until the water around you was near pitch-black. You were growing more and more panicked by the second, because every second you wasted was another second the man grew closer to death.
Finally, you caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of your eye. Hope flaring, you darted towards it, the figure becoming clearer the closer you got.
It was him.
You reached out and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt to prevent him from sinking farther. His eyes were shut and he wasn’t breathing, but you could still hear a heartbeat. There was still time left.
Wrapping your arms around him, you started the difficult journey back to land. Thankfully, you knew of a small island not too far from here. Swimming with the added weight of a fully grown man was incredibly difficult, especially for a young mermaid, but you persisted. After all, this was his life on the line.
You swam as hard as fast as you could, and thankfully, by some blessing from the heavens, found a warm water current going the direction you were. You let it carry you, the rushing stream multiplying your efforts. Finally, after what seemed like hours but must have only been a couple of minutes, you reached the island.
Letting the wave wash you up on shore, you settled the man down on the soft sand the first chance you got. You rolled him to his front, which was quite the endeavor itself. His heartbeat had grown more shallow, but it was still there. There was still hope.
Using the skills your mother had taught you, you started to nurse the man back to health using your melodic voice. Ever since you were young, she had explained to you the gift bestowed upon mermaids, the power of healing through song. She taught you to sing before you could walk, and it was the one thing that you were sure you could do right.
As you sang your strange and melodious tune, it finally occurred to you that you were breaking the most sacred of rules. Not only were you interacting with a stranger, you were coaxing him back to life. Like mother, like daughter, you thought. I suppose healing strangers who were drowning at sea runs in my blood.
The only caveat to your healing powers is that it takes quite some time to have its full effects. You don’t know how long you sat on the beach, but it had been quite some time. You probably would have been there for much longer had it not been for the boom voice that sounded behind you, waking you from your trance of song.
“Well, I’ll be. If it isn’t a mermaid.”
You practically jumped out of your fins as you turned around, startled beyond words. There, towering above you, was the evil pirate captain you saw earlier. He was even younger than you had previously thought. In fact, he couldn’t be much older than you. You wondered for a fleeting moment how a kid like that could command an entire ship full of grown—and scary-looking—men, but decided you have bigger matters at hand to worry about.
A few members of his crew lurked behind the captain, and you could see a small lifeboat docked to the ground near the coastline. Further beyond that, his ship swayed in the ocean waves, dark against the bright horizon.
You followed the pirate’s gaze down to your tail, which was still out. You silently cursed yourself for forgetting to transform back into your human form, being too distracted by saving the man to pay attention to your own safety.
You wanted to yell at the cruel pirate for trying to kill this man. No matter who he was, what he had done, he didn’t deserve to die. At least not like that. But the words got caught in your throat, so while a war raged inside your mind, you were completely quiet on the outside, simply staring up at the man with wide doe eyes.
“You have a lovely voice,” the man said, with a tone that you wouldn’t quite imagine a killer using. He must have overheard me sing earlier, you thought to yourself. “Tell me, little mermaid, who taught you to sing?”
“M-my mother,” you replied weakly, your voice far more meager and small than you wanted it to be. You were still staring up at him, afraid of what he’d do to you.
“Your mother? Well, that’s quite interesting.” The captain raised his left hand to scratch at his chin, which is when you realized that it wasn’t a hand at all. Instead of a hand was a curved metal hook, with a sharp point gleaming at the end. So that must be the shiny thing I saw earlier, you thought.
“Oh, where are my manners?” laughed the pirate abruptly. “My name is Captain James Hook, leader of the Jolly Roger. And you are?”
You blinked, almost forgetting your own name. If it were a less tense moment than this, you would have laughed at the fact that his name is rather befitting for him. “Y/N,” you respond.
“Y/N…Now, where have I heard that name before?” He tapped his chin with his hook again.
“Sir, that’s the name of Princess Ariel’s daughter,” one of the big, meaty pirates behind him answered in a gruff voice.
“That’s right!” Hook exclaimed. “You’re the mermaid’s daughter. You know, rumor has it you’ll be joining me at Merlin’s Academy in the fall, is that right?”
For some reason, your voice seemed to not work anymore, so you settled for nodding. Join him? you pondered. You didn’t know that he was also a student at the school you were planning to attend.
Hook started pacing along the beach, arms crossed with his hooked hand extended, deep in thought. You watched him, fear growing by the second. A sly smirk spread across his face, which only served to fuel the flames of your worry. 
“You know, you directly defied my command by saving that man,” he started. Slowly. Deliberately. Choosing every word precisely and carefully, like a shark circling its prey. “Do you even know why I made him walk the plank?” You shook your head no, the panic in you reaching record heights.
“That man”—he vaguely gestures towards the unconscious body laying on the beach with his hook—“stole an entire week’s worth of rations from my ship. An entire week’s worth of food and rum for an entire crew. Had he gotten away with it, we likely would have starved to death out at sea. Does he seem so innocent now, little mermaid? So worth saving?”
Again, you shook your head no. Although you agreed he definitely wasn’t an innocent man, you still didn’t see making him walk the plank a justifiable punishment. Despite your thoughts, you kept your mouth shut. Angering the captain further was not going to do you any good.
“Now, if anyone else had done something like this, I wouldn’t hesitate to cut their head right off,” Hook said menacingly, and with a swish, unsheathed his sword once again. You flinched—hard—and scrambled to back away from him. 
Hook took note of this, and, sheathing his sword, crouched down to get on the same level as you. “But don’t worry, little mermaid. I won’t hurt you. You see, you’ve piqued my interest. Plus, it would do me no favors to have a little girl’s blood on my hands.”
You let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding. So he’s not going to kill me, right?
“But, alas, you can’t leave unpunished, now, can you?” he added. Your eyes grew impossibly wider, your entire body shaking in fear. This was it. He was going to kill you, or do something equally worse.
“I demand”—you already felt a tear slip down your cheek—“that you write to me for the remainder of the summer.”
Wait, what?
“W-write?” you asked in disbelief. “As in…”
“Letters,” Hook finished for you. “Write me letters. I’ll give you the mailing address of the Jolly Roger. Write me everyday, and I’ll promise I’ll write you back whenever we dock. How does that sound?”
“O-okay,” you reply, still taken aback by the peculiar, and far more lenient than you’d expected, request. That was all you had to do? Write letters? As punishment for saving the life of someone he’d ordered to die? You must be dreaming.
“Oh, and,” Hook said, voice lowered as he leaned in close to you, until he was just a hair’s breadth away from your ear. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, his alluring scent of salty winds and something richer, deeper, filling your lungs. “I look forward to seeing you in the fall. Don’t forget me, my little mermaid.”
With that, he stood up, smoothing out the lines on his pants. “You wouldn’t happen to need a ride back home, would you, love?”
You shook your head no, too terrified of him changing his mind to spend another moment in his presence. You glanced back at the man lying behind you, still unconscious. “W-what about him? What will you do with him?” you managed to choke out, somehow finding your voice again.
Hook pondered this for a long minute, before finally answering, “He can live.” You let out a shaky breath. “But only because of you, little mermaid. And only this time. You go against my wishes again, and trust me, your punishment will be far more severe.”
And with that, he went back to his ship and sailed away.
You still muse about that day, thinking how different things would have been if you had changed just one little thing.
You kept your promise of writing him letters, too afraid to know what would happen when you had to inevitably face him in the fall to break it. At first, they started out simple. Ordinary recounts of your day, your favorite things, what you liked to do. As the weeks passed, you started writing more personal letters. How you felt about certain things or certain people, including your parents. You never spoke a word of that fateful day to them, knowing that you’d be grounded for life and forbidden from swimming ever again if they caught even a whiff of the danger you had put yourself in. 
Hook kept his promise, too. He wrote you back, although it was far less frequent than your letters. Even though he kept his responses short and concise, you always ended up hearing his voice in your head as you read his notes. You soon found yourself checking your mailbox daily, even getting to know the mailman rather well. The rush of dopamine you got every time you opened it to find a letter awaiting you was unmatched; you would always run upstairs to your room, lock the door, and pour over the note. Reading every line, every word over and over again, committing them to memory. 
You don’t know why you enjoyed these little letters so much. Maybe it was the thrill of having a secret that no one else knew of, or the absence of your usual loneliness every time you were reminded that somewhere out there, across the seas, was someone awaiting your letters, reading them, and writing back to you. Whatever it was, your heart started to form an emotional attachment to him without you even realizing it. 
Unbeknownst to you, that had been his exact plan all along.
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It’s safe to say that once you started school at Merlin Academy, Hook’s—or James’s, as he insisted on you calling him—grip on you only grew. Things started out pretty normal: light conversations in class and stolen looks exchanged across the hall, mostly initiated by him. After the first few weeks passed, things between you two only grew. Secret meetings during lunch hours, rendezvous after school, and small gifts exchanged between the two of you. From there, it became brushing your hands together whenever you passed by each other, soft pecks on the cheek or forehead where there were prying eyes, and more passionate kisses when the two of you finally found time to be alone.
Truth be told, you don’t really know what you two are now. Normally, you would consider two people that partake in such actions to be courting, and you kind of assume you are. But James has never said anything about a relationship to you, and in all honesty, you’re too afraid to ask him. You feel terribly confused at his intentions towards you; on the one hand, he approaches you every day without fail, even if you try to ignore him or when your schedules don’t match up. Somehow, he always finds a way. On the other hand, he never asked you to be his lover, never even vaguely mentioned anything of the sorts. So, you decided, with a heavy heart, to not be too confident and consider yourself his partner. And unfortunately, that meant that he wasn’t yours, either.
Really, you never meant to grow so involved with the bastard pirate that threatened to kill you on the beach that day. But for some strange reason, instead of treating you coldly like he did everyone else, especially the other hero kids, he was softer with you. Considerate, even. You had half-expected him to want nothing to do with you after your first few interactions, but he kept seeking you out. You often opened your locker to a note inside, or entered your dorm to find a letter slipped beneath the door.
Today was one of those days. You had gotten a note telling you to wait for him in your usual place in the evening, after classes. So here you are, waiting, staring at the water fountain in the courtyard. You’ve always been transfixed by the way the water spurts out the center and splashes all around. It seems that whenever you’re alone with your thoughts, they always end up back to that fateful day you met James, and everything that’s happened since.
“Wait for me long, my little mermaid?” a deep voice whispers in your ear from behind. You jump only a little, far more used to James sneaking up on you now than you used to be. For some reason, it seems he loves to startle you by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in close from behind, or speaking softly in your ear.
You twirl around, a delighted expression on your face, although you try to mask it with a feigned annoyance. “And if I say I did?”
“Well then, I’d have to find a way to make it up to you then, wouldn’t I, darling?” he purrs, using his hook to spin you around in his arms so you’re face-to-face. His lips make his way to yours, pulling you in for a slow, sensual kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his head closer to yours, not able to get enough of his touch. 
The feeling of his skin against yours ignites something in you, and you find your mouth opening to give him more access as a soft whimper escapes your lips. One hand reaches into his hair, tugging at it gently from the base of his head, while the other one trails down the front of his shirt.
James leans into you even further, your bodies flush against each other now, as he deepens the kiss. You find yourself leaning against the edge of the water fountain, the cool sprinkles providing a welcomed contrast to your heating-up bodies.
Once you’ve completely lost your breath, you pull away just slightly, a love-drunk smile on your face. “You had a request for me?” you whisper, panting, eyes full of adoration for the man you were interlocked with. 
James breaks into a grin. A genuine one, not one of the smirks he flashes to uphold his patented suave demeanor. “Ah, yes, how could I forget, my love?”
He pulls further away to give you two enough room to breathe, yet keeping his good hand on the small of your back. “I was reminded today that it's been quite some time since I’ve heard your voice, my little mermaid.”
You give a little smile, deciding to mess with him a bit. “Whatever do you mean? You hear my voice every day. I mean, you’re even hearing it right now.”
James cocks his head to the side and raises a single eyebrow, clearly aware of your antics. “Your other voice, love.”
You giggle. “Fine, all right. Only for you,” you say, giving him a peck on the nose. 
You sit down on the ledge of the fountain, turning back to stare at the water again. Although it has been a long time since you stretched your tail and went for a swim, simply seeing the rushing water soothes you. It isn’t quite like being immersed in it, but it still gives you some semblance of comfort. 
You reach into the pool at the bottom, letting the cool water rush along your fingertips as you inhale a deep breath. Through your mermaid abilities, your voice twists into an otherworldly song, filling the space with a mellifluous sound. 
James takes a place on the ledge next to you, reaching into the water to hold your submerged hand. You don’t really feel it, too transfixed on the rushing waves. You don’t see the way James gazes at you, like you’re his entire world. The softness, the tenderness in his eyes, which he reserves for you only. He looks at you not as if you’re his sun, something too bright to ever stare directly at, something violent and explosive and harmful, but as if you’re his moon. 
As if you’re the figure he watches every night before he closes his eyes, and the one he wishes to see again when he wakes up. As if you’re the only thing he notices every time the darkness envelops him, your presence never falling off the pedestal he places it on in his mind. Never losing its worth. He looks at you, your soft glow and mesmerizing shimmer, as if you’re the only thing filling up the night sky. The stars and constellations pale in comparison to you, especially on your best nights, when you shine so magnificently. 
You are the moon, and he is the tide of the ocean, constantly being pulled in by you. Never being able to escape the grasp you have on him, the grasp you are so blissfully unaware of. He stares at you in awe and wonder, bathing in your gorgeous light, so close yet always so far away. Sitting all alone against the dark backdrop of the evening sky, waiting for him to come back to you. And without reason, you always disappear. Always leaving him wanting more, waiting till the moment he can bathe in your presence again. 
As you sing, the tide gets pulled in by the gravity of the moon. Your lyrical voice bounces off the stone walls, surrounding you both, just as the moonlight surrounds the waves on that mystical night. 
But the moonlight is only a reflection of the sun’s glow, is it not? When daylight comes, the moon will pull away from the waves, its absence in the sky all but forgotten in the sun’s presence. And as dawn breaks, so too will the pull between the moon and ocean. 
on to part 2! ->
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asahicore · 1 year ago
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kiwi and layla - sjy
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pairing. jake x fem!reader synopsis. in which you mistake jake’s backpack for your own, making you each go home with the other’s bag. both of you are too curious for your own good, so you quickly find out that you excel in the subject the other is failing - a mutual tutoring agreement ensues, and it turns into much more than what you had expected. genre. high school au, f2l, lots of fluff and some angst too, f2l, shy reader x outgoing jake warnings. food & swearing, mention of parent death and divorce, kms jokes, jake being stupid but also really cute (lmk if i've missed any!) word count. 26.3k a/n. this is part of the unexpected collab !!! go check out the other fics and caelin thank u for hosting <333 hope u guys like this one, it took me a while but i had so so much fun writing it !!! i love my jakey in here he's a little bit confused but he's got the spirit. @zreamy thanks for being the world's awesomest beta reader and a decent friend ig... 2 baddies wouldnt be the same without you... lifeguard wet body sunghoon coming soon guys dont miss it! as always pls remember how important reblogs and feedback is for us writers!!! it's what keeps us going <3 enjoy!!
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This was not your backpack. 
In your defense, it looked so similar to yours - scratch that, it was the exact same as yours - that you couldn’t possibly have been able to tell the difference between the two bags until you’d opened one of them. Just a basic black Eastpak that probably a hundred other kids in your school owned with nothing to tell them apart, because you hadn’t had the mind to add a little something to it and make it recognizable. You hadn’t really needed to - your backpack was always on your back, next to your seat or in your locker. There was no way you might lose it or mistake it with another.
Until today, obviously. Instead of having a chill last class before spring break like every other teacher, your psycho math teacher Mr Choi had decided to give you a major test on this otherwise beautiful Friday afternoon. While other students watched a movie or played Kahoot, you were stuck in a cold classroom with algebra questions in front of you. Mr Choi had argued that this would be better than having a test after the holidays and ruining your time off with studying, but a test was a test, and math was math, so you hated the idea anyway. 
To eliminate all cheating possibilities, Mr Choi made his students only take a pencil and eraser with them, leave their bag at the back of the classroom and put their phone in a box he kept on his desk. Plus, with his hawk eyes watching intently, there was no way to sneak answers on a small sheet of paper or even on your palm. 
When the test was over, your brain was so fried and you were so eager to get the hell out of there that you didn’t even notice the two identical black backpacks next to each other, you just grabbed the first one you saw, not even questioning that it might not be yours.
And indeed, yours it was not. From your snooping around, you quickly found out it belonged to one Jake Sim. 
You knew Jake. Although you’d been attending the same school for the past three years, you could probably count the number of times you’d talked on one hand - but you knew him. Or at least, you knew of him. You knew that he was good at STEM subjects and that he was on the soccer team; you knew he was a really sweet guy and was easy to talk to, even for someone shy like you. 
Most importantly, you knew he was friends with Park Sunghoon. This was important because you had liked Park Sunghoon since the moment you’d laid eyes on him - or rather, your whole friend group had. It might’ve sounded extremely odd to others, but you and your friends had a few random people at school you liked to keep tabs on or create backstories for, and Sunghoon, because of his dashing looks that had struck all four of you in your first week of freshman year, was one of your victims. Well, you liked to think of them as characters on a TV show rather than victims, but to each his own. Your other characters included that popular sophomore who already considered herself a celebrity because of her ten thousand followers on TikTok anyway, the French and Spanish teachers you were sure had a thing going on, and that one guy in Yena’s biology class that only showed up every two weeks but always looked stoned (hat guy, Chaewon liked to call him, even you’d never once seen him with a hat on). It was all harmless, really - none of you ever actually went up and talked to them, just discussed them among yourselves.
Perhaps Sunghoon was different, because each of you had had a class with him at some point, so you’d all had at least shared a word with him. You probably hadn’t talked to him more times than you’d talked to Jake, so the information you knew about him was pretty surface-level - he was an ice skater, but everyone knew that, and he was shy like you, which was immediately noticeable. He also had one of the most handsome faces you’d ever seen. But again, everyone who saw him knew that.
You, Yena and Chaewon had debated whether one of you should just go ahead and make a move (Hyewon didn’t participate because she already had a boyfriend, but she was all for approaching the boy). You guessed you could describe what you felt towards Sunghoon as a sort of crush, even if it was one you shared with your friends - you found him cute, and you got nervous when he was around. But you were more the watch-from-afar-and-pine type, so you were satisfied with liking him from a distance. You didn’t think you actually had the guts to strike a conversation with him - that was more Chaewon’s thing.
However, this didn’t mean you weren’t curious about the contents of his best friend’s backpack. Your being shy didn’t mean you weren’t interested in other people’s lives - if anything, you were quite nosy. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but you were just a regular teenage girl, so this was fine, right? After just a few minutes of snooping, you found out Jake Sim wasn’t hiding any big state secrets in his Eastpak, anyway. Just some textbooks, notebooks, and a lot of single sheets of paper. It was pretty messy in there. 
Your idea of him being good at STEM subjects was correct - he kept all of his graded tests in the sleeve pocket of his math notebook, and there was not a single one that had received a note under 95. He even seemed to be doing some extracurricular exercises - there were formulae that were completely unfamiliar to you and that you were sure you hadn’t done in class. You found it slightly insane, but that might have just been because you despised math and wouldn’t understand why someone would want to do more of it than was required of them. 
His English homework was another story. His essays had more red from the teacher’s pen than his own black ink, and from the grades on his reading comprehension tests, you highly doubted he’d actually read any of the assigned books. You weren’t in the same English class but apparently had the same teacher, Ms Park, so you were studying the same thing. You couldn’t help but cringe as you read his answers on a Pride and Prejudice reading test - he seemingly kept mixing the sisters up, assigning actions and character traits to Lydia that clearly belonged to Jane. At least he somewhat got Darcy right, writing that “he’s probably not as bad as he looks,” with no further explanation. 
As you aimlessly flipped through his English notebook, curious about the way he took his notes - or if he even took any - you noticed some scribbles in the margins. Looking closer, some of them were in his handwriting while others were in an unfamiliar one. It looked like some sort of conversation, so you assumed the other writing belonged to his deskmate. You also did this with your friends in classes where the teacher was very strict about no chatting in class.
dude coach said if I fail any of my classes I would be out of the team, you read Jake’s handwriting.
Wait seriously????
yeah and I suck at english so Im scared it might actually happen
You just need to study more bro
bro I DO but this shit is hard
Then find someone to help you
neither of you guys is that good in that subject either tho
Ok ouch but also just find someone else then
bro who
IDK man 
Y/N maybe ? she’s good at English and she’s nice so she might say yes 
there you go about y/n again dude MAYBE you ask HER to teach you some sonnets
Shut up you’re the one who needs help dumbass
whatever isn’t it weird just asking her randomly though like i dont want her to feel like she has to say yes
Lol if she sees your grades she might do it out of pity
fuck u man
You were surprised to see your own name written there - it felt weird knowing that Jake and his friend were talking about you, for some reason. And what if that friend was Sunghoon? You had a hard time believing he not only knew you existed, but thought of you as good at English and nice. You liked to think both of these things were true. 
He was also spot-on about saying you would agree to helping out Jake in those subjects, but what he got wrong was thinking you’d do it out of pity. Clearly, you and Jake were in very similar positions. You didn’t have any sort of club you’d be kicked out of if you failed a class, but it sure as hell wouldn’t look good on your college applications, so you needed to get your math grades up. 
Jake and you both desperately needed something the other person could help with, so you had a feeling he wouldn’t turn down the offer that was brewing in your head.
This was not Jake’s backpack.
He noticed it right away - it was much heavier than his own and the straps were tighter around his shoulders than they should be. He looked inside for some clues about who it might belong to, and luckily, the first thing he found was a journal that had Y/N’S DIARY written on the cover page in big, pink letters. 
Unluckily, however, he’d also noticed that you had practically sprinted out of the classroom as soon as the bell rang, and indeed, you were already far gone when he tried looking for you around school. He had to get to soccer practice anyway, so he put the issue to the side for the time being.
When he got home, he had to shower then have dinner, so it wasn’t until 8 p.m. that he remembered he had your backpack. He had meant to text you straightaway about it, and he knew it was wrong to look into someone’s belongings, but he couldn’t help himself, especially when his best friend Sunghoon had liked you for ages. Maybe this was an opportunity to find out more about you.
Your mind-blowing grades in English don’t come as much of a surprise to him, and after reading through your most recent essay, he thought you definitely deserved them. Your essay was on a Shakespeare play he had never heard of - you apparently also had Ms Park for English, and he didn’t know she was doing Shakespeare in class, so he wondered for a second if you were actually crazy enough to read another book and study it. As if 300 pages of Jane Austen weren’t enough as it was. 
What shocked him were your math grades. It was like looking into a fucked-up mirror: while you excelled at English, you sucked at math; while he excelled at math, he sucked at English. You were just as close to failing your math class as he was at failing English.
Now that he thought about it, maybe Sunghoon’s idea hadn’t been so dumb - you could help him out, and he had an actual argument as to why you should, rather than just using pity on you.
As he put your stuff back in your bag, he was reminded of something - your diary. For some reason, the pretty floral pattern on the cover made him feel even worse for opening the journal in the first place, but he did it anyway. Either you’d only just picked up the habit of writing in a diary or you had finished your previous one recently, but this one seemed pretty new, as only about ten pages had been filled with your neat handwriting. Judging from the dates at the top of almost every page, you wrote in there everyday, and Jake only felt even worse that you hadn’t been able to write in it that day.
Still, he flicked to the first page and started reading. And he read and read, unable to take his eyes away from your diary. He thought he wouldn’t have cared much and a page would have satisfied his curiosity, but the way you wrote about the people around you and about yourself fascinated him. Basic high school things like friend drama and annoying teachers actually became interesting through your words. You didn’t use particularly complicated sentences or unheard-of words, on the contrary, you used simple language, and that spoke a lot more to Jake than any of the classics he’d attempted to read for class. 
And then, he saw an all too familiar name in an entry dated from just a few days ago. 
I sat next to Sunghoon today. It was during physics and both of our desk partners were absent, so Mrs Kim made me change seats. She always does this, and I used to wonder whether she hated to see an empty seat or to see a student sitting on their own, but whatever the reason, today, I was just happy about it. This isn’t our first time sitting next to each other in class, but I was still nervous, since I wasn’t expecting it. I hope he couldn’t feel the awkwardness practically oozing off of me or the way I very obviously struggled with the exercises (obviously, anything to do with math is not my forte). We shared my textbook because he’d forgotten his, and he showed me his notes when he saw I couldn’t keep up with Mrs Kim as she told us what to write down. We only exchanged a few words but I was satisfied when class was over. It’s odd, because you’d think someone would want to talk to the person they like and get to know them more, but I don’t feel that with Sunghoon. Maybe it’s because we’re both so introverted, and he seems to have just as hard a time as I do starting conversations, so I’ve sort of accepted our silent fate. I’m fine just continuing to steal glances at him from across the cafeteria. 
After that, there were a few more pages of writing up until yesterday's entry, but it was the only mention of Sunghoon. Jake had apparently been wrong to think that a girl’s diary would be full of rantings about her crush and things along the lines of “omg, he looked at me today”. 
But you had very clearly referred to Sunghoon as the person you liked, and Jake wasn’t going to let that go so easily. This was precious information that he held in his hands now, so he had to figure out how to deal with it properly for your sake as well as his friend’s.
Turns out there was more he could help you with than just algebra.
Seeing Jake Sim in a setting other than school was slightly odd, if you were being completely honest. 
You had just been about to text him about the backpack mix-up when you’d received a message from the man himself, asking if you could meet up the next day to exchange them. In response, you’d asked where you should meet, thinking he’d offer either his house or yours, or some halfway point between them, but he surprised you by proposing some café in the center of town. They have good hot chocolate there, he’d said, and that had been enough to convince you. 
And also I have something I want to talk to you about. 
Your stomach had turned at this message - what on Earth could Jake Sim need to discuss with you had been your first thought, and then you realized you also had plans you wanted to share with him. So his idea of going to a café was actually good for you, too.
You’d only been waiting for about five minutes when he appeared at the café, red and panting from seemingly sprinting to his destination. 
“Y/N, I’m sooo sorry,” he immediately said when he saw you waiting. “I was planning to be early, but when I got on the bus I realized I literally forgot your bag, so I had to go back but the next bus wasn’t for another twenty minutes so I just ran the whole way here, and now I’m all sweaty, and I’m late, and I’m really sorry.”
He’d rushed through his sentence and was breathing heavily as he looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer. He seemed so genuinely sorry for such a small thing that after your surprise faded, you started laughing. It was his turn to be surprised, and he immediately stopped talking at the sound of your soft giggles.
“It’s okay, Jake. I haven’t even been waiting five minutes,” you explained, smiling. “Let’s just go in, yeah?”
Jake’s heart did something weird just then, and the feeling was so unfamiliar and confusing that he decided to promptly ignore it. As if in a daze, he stood still for a couple of seconds until the sound of a bell ringing, the one the café had on its doors to signify the entrance or exit of a customer, snapped him out of it. He followed you into the shop, let you order and pay for you both (“I’m the one who took the wrong bag, it’s the least I can do,” you’d said) and sat across from you at a booth in the back.
You gave each other your respective bags back, then started chatting as you sipped on your hot chocolates (Jake had been right - they really were delicious). He was surprisingly easy to talk to, and whether he sensed you were a reserved person or was just naturally talkative, you liked that he both managed to do most of the talking and ask you loads of questions at once. Usually, you wouldn’t have really cared to listen to someone go on and on about their passion for soccer and the recent game that their team had won, but for some reason, you were hooked on Jake’s every word. The way his eyes widened in excitement as he recounted the winning goal he scored, the way the volume of his voice decreased as he filled you in on the team gossip even though no one was listening to your conversation, the way his grin turned into a proud smirk as he mentioned his coach congratulating him - every single one of his actions had you mesmerized. You’d never seen anyone so expressive in their speech, never seen anyone punctuate every sentence with a movement or a facial expression. It was just fun, listening to him.
Even when he didn’t talk, he stayed expressive. He asked you whether you did anything outside of school, and he listened intently as you told him about the theater group you’re in, humming and nodding and laughing at all the right moments. Usually, you wouldn’t have talked about it for more than thirty seconds, afraid to bore others with unnecessary details, but Jake’s reactions and the questions he asked made you actually feel listened to and like what you were talking about was interesting. So you grew more confident and told him what you loved about acting and about theater, about your own gossip (the arrogant actress who got the lead role and thought she was better than everyone else, that one guy who was clearly flirting with three girls at the same time), and you almost couldn’t believe Jake seemed so entertained by your stories. 
“So, you said your group focused on more classic plays, right? Does that mean you’re good at English Lit?”
With his spoon, Jake scooped some whipped cream into his mouth, hoping he was appearing as nonchalant as he was trying to be. He had to make you think he’d deduced that just now and not because he had been snooping through your backpack just the night prior. 
You, however, could not have cared less how he’d figured it out - you were just grateful he had segued into this topic of school and grades, because you’d been wanting to bring it up yourself but had no idea how.
“Um, yeah, actually, it’s my best subject. Math, on the other hand…”
You chuckled as his eyes widened and he leaned in across the table, pointing his spoon at you as he spoke. “See, that’s interesting, because math is my best subject, but I suck at English Lit.”
“Oh, really?” you asked, trying to sound genuinely surprised even though this piece of information was not at all new to you.
“Yeah,” he said, looking back down at his almost-finished drink with a small smile on his face.
“You know-”
“You know-”
You and Jake had spoken at the same time, and your eyes locked for a second before you started laughing. You gestured at him to go on first.
“I actually need pretty urgent help in English. Coach said he’ll put us out of the team if we fail even just one of our courses, and I’m very close to failing that class.” He took a moment to let out a sigh. “So, if you want, we could help each other out. Me with math, and you with English.” 
His eyebrows were slightly furrowed and he bit his lip as he looked at you expectantly. You thought he looked far too nervous for such a simple request, expression more like a boy who’d just asked his crush to the prom rather than offering mutual help you both desperately needed. You couldn’t help the smile that grew on your lips - you had never known Jake Sim to be so… cute. But he was waiting for an answer, so you pushed the thought out of your head.
“That’s a great idea, actually,” you replied, as if you hadn’t had the exact same idea. You were just relieved you hadn’t even had to bring it up yourself. “I also really can’t afford to fail math. It would look terrible on college applications.”
Jake let out a long, loud exhale. “God, yeah, college, I hadn’t even thought of that. Even more motivation to get better grades now,” he said with a chuckle.
You chuckled along, then cleared your throat and sat up straighter. You watched with amusement as Jake mirrored your actions and even the fake serious frown in your brows. You presented your hand for him to shake, which he did without hesitation.
“So it’s a deal then. We’ll tutor each other until we’ve gotten our grades up.”
“Deal,” he replied. As you both withdrew your hands, he dropped his serious facade and burst into giggles, a sound you hadn’t expected from the boy but somehow fit him well. You watched his face closely for a second, noticing the curl of his lips and the crinkle at the corner of his eyes, before breaking into laughter yourself.
You stayed in the café for another half hour, going over details of where and when you’d meet, of what exactly you needed help with (“Everything,” you’d said, to which Jake had replied “Same”), and just talked some more.
“I’m taking the 53 that way,” Jake said when you exited the café, pointing towards the bus stop.
“Oh, so am I!” you exclaimed.
“Seriously?! What’s your stop?”
And that’s how you and Jake figured out you only lived two bus stops away from each other. 
“That’s so cool! It’ll make it easy to meet up then,” he said, and you hummed in agreement. After a pause, he added: “But if we live so close to each other, how come we didn’t go to the same schools earlier? Aren’t you usually supposed to go to the one in your district?”
“I used to live in another part of town,” you explained. “Then my parents divorced when I was in middle school, and I stayed with my dad because he lived closer to the school I was at, but I moved to my mom’s place for high school.”
“‘Cause she lives closer?”
“Yeah, basically.” There was more to it, but you didn’t think Jake would be particularly interested in your parental issues - although you surprised yourself for even considering telling him. If Jake sensed that you weren’t saying everything, he didn’t push, just swiftly changed the topic as you waited for the bus to come.
When you got home some time later, the first thing you did was open your diary and start writing. It had felt wrong not to write in it even just for a day, so it was a relief to feel the pages between your fingers and the familiar scent of the paper and your perfumed pen. You wrote without thinking too much, simply letting all of your musings out into your diary and freely brushing the tip of your pen across the pages. 
You didn’t ever reread your entries right after writing them, but if you had that day, you might have noticed all you could write about was the boy you’d drank a hot chocolate with.
Spring break week passed by far too quickly, and it was on the first Monday back at school that you and Jake met again. He had soccer practice on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays, while you had theater rehearsals on Thursdays and Saturdays, so you’d agreed to meet up every Monday and Wednesday after school. Since his mother worked as the school nurse, she drove him to and from school everyday - so on Monday, you met Jake in front of the nurse’s station, waiting for his mom to wrap things up before she drove you both to their home.
You had been surprised to learn that the kind nurse that never asked too many questions and always let students take a nap if they didn’t feel well was Jake’s mom, but upon reflection, it made sense. Once you knew, it was almost obvious that she had raised him - they shared the same friendliness, the same comforting smile and the same ability to make conversation. The whole ride home, she asked you about yourself and thanked you for agreeing to tutor “our little Jakey,” because “God knows he needs the help.” 
You couldn’t help but laugh when a blush crept on Jake’s face and he looked out the passenger seat window with an embarrassed frown, muttering something like “Thanks a lot, Mom.”
She noticed his reaction and laughed along with you. “I’m just saying, Jakey-poo. It’s good to know to ask for help when you need it,” she cooed, reaching a hand out to ruffle his hair. This only made Jake groan loudly and hide his face in his hands. You didn’t know Jake very well, but this flustered, red-faced side of him was definitely one you liked seeing.
The first thing that greeted you when you reached Jake’s house was a happy welcome home bark.
“You have a dog?!” you exclaimed, unable to reel your excitement in.
“Yeah! This is Layla,” Jake said, giving energetic rubs to the Border Collie that made her whole body shake side-to-side but that she seemed to thoroughly enjoy. 
“Hi, Layla,” you cooed, crouching down to her level to let her sniff you. She decided you were a person worthy of petting her. “She’s so cute!”
“I think she likes you,” Jake said, a grin on his face, as he watched Layla presenting her belly to you and asking for scratches there. “Do you have a dog?”
“We have a Corgi at home. And a cat, too.”
“That must be fun,” Jake chuckled. “Do they get along?”
“Depends. They have a bit of a love-hate relationship.” You looked up at Jake, and it was uncharacteristically quiet as you locked eyes for a couple of seconds. You both looked away at the same time, surprised by the sudden eye contact.
You gave Layla one last rub and lifted yourself up. “Um, should we get started?” 
Jake paused for a second as if he’d forgotten what you were here for in the first place, then started nodding his head quickly. “Right, yeah. Let’s go to my room. Downstairs is just one big room and my mom will probably watch TV or make dinner or something, so it might be distracting…” he explained, lightly scratching the back of his neck. It seemed like he was embarrassed to be bringing you to his room, which you couldn’t help but find endearing.
“Okay, sounds good,” you said with a smile, hoping it’ll reassure him.
You followed him up to his room, ignoring his complaints as you lingered on the framed photos on the wall next to the stairs and giggled at his baby pictures. 
“Do not look at those,” he said with a warning tone that didn’t scare you in the slightest. When you didn’t listen, he grabbed your hand that had been pointing at a photo of baby Jake in the bathtub and forced you to keep walking.
“Why?” you asked, a slight whine to your voice.
“‘Cause it’s embarrassing! I was an ugly baby.”
“What?! You were so cute!”
“Whatever. I’d rather study English than talk about this, and that’s saying something.”
When you looked at Jake, you were surprised to find that he actually seemed upset about this. You weren’t sure what was so wrong with looking at his baby pictures, but the last thing you wanted to do was make him mad, so you stayed quiet and continued your way to his room. Once there, although you were infinitely curious about all the posters, pictures, figurines, trophies, and other small tokens of Jake’s life, you didn’t ask him about any of them, just sat next to him at his desk and opened The Picture of Dorian Grey, the book you had both been studying in Ms Park’s class.
You’d agreed on spending forty-five minutes on English, have a small break, then spend forty-five minutes on Math. It wasn’t a lot, but you both had other homework and things outside of school you needed to do, so you’d decided to start out that way and see if it worked out.
You were glad to see how seriously Jake was taking this - he listened intently to what you said and asked questions when he didn’t understand something. You quickly figured out that what he didn’t like about English Literature was that the answers weren’t as straightforward or as logical as they were in math, and even worse, that multiple answers were possible depending on the reader’s interpretation. 
“It just all feels like a guessing game,” he said, resting the side of his head on one of his palms. “How am I supposed to know what this dude meant? And if it can be analyzed in different ways, how can Ms Park tell me the way I understand it is wrong?”
“It’s all about the way you justify it,” you explained. “You can’t just say whatever. Ms Park will look out for how you use the text to support your answers.” You then went on to pick out a specific part of the book, asking Jake to analyze Dorian’s mindset in that scene. 
“He sounds like he’s going insane,” Jake said flatly when he was done reading, getting a chuckle out of you.
“Exactly. How do you know that?”
“I don’t know, just the words he uses,” Jake replies, shrugging.
“Okay, underline those words,” you instructed gently. Jake sighed, but he complied.
“There.” 
“Good. What can you say about those words?” When Jake just looked at you like a lost puppy, you reformulated your question. “What do they have in common? What type of words are they? Are they common nouns, verbs…”
Jake looked back at the words he’d underlined on the page. “They’re… adjectives?” he said, tone unsure.
“Exactly!”
Jake paused. “So?”
“So now you can say that the author uses many adjectives to convey the gradual loss of sanity of the main character.”
“Oh.”
When you looked at Jake, he wore an expression like the words on the page were finally starting to make sense to him. “That’s the content. You can also look at the structure. See how many punctuation marks there are? Commas, semi-colons, question marks… It’s like he keeps cutting himself off. His thoughts are all over the place.”
Jake nodded slowly. “So, I just need to look out for things like that?”
“Basically, yeah. And the more you practice, the more these things will stand out to you. It actually becomes somewhat repetitive sometimes.”
Jake let out a shaky breath. “That’s actually relieving to hear,” he said with a chuckle.
Thirty minutes passed by like this as you showed Jake ways to make sense of a literary text. When the timer rang, he leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms out wide with a sigh. He put his hands behind his head and let it hang back, and the way your stomach flipped at the sight of his exposed neck and Adam’s apple made you look away immediately. You could barely meet his eyes as he turned his head to look at you, still in that same position, and, with a smirk, asked if you were ready for some snacks. 
You gulped, trying to look as normal as possible. “Uh, yeah, sure!”
Downstairs, Jake presented you with all sorts of snacks - there were so many, you felt like you were in a convenience store. This was worlds away from your ingredient-only household. You opted for some biscuits and a banana while Jake made himself a bowl of cereal. A very distracting ten-minute long argument then ensued about the order of milk and cereal - horrifyingly, Jake poured his milk before his cereal. You thought it was a myth that some people actually did it that way, but Jake very proudly defended his choice. 
“I bet you eat pizza with pineapple on it, too,” you said half-jokingly, only for your joke to punch you right back in the face.
“Duh,” Jake answered.
You could only shake your head in defeat. “Let’s just get back to studying before I murder you.”
“Damn, Y/N,” Jake said, laughing. “That’s harsh.”
“And you’re a freak,” you retorted, a grin blooming on your lips.
“You know, you remind me of my friend Jay,” Jake mused as you walked back up the stairs. “He has so many of these small battles that he just won’t let go of. He got super worked up over an argument about mint chocolate chip ice cream once.”
“Let me guess, you like that ice cream?”
Jake shrugged. “It’s not my favorite, but I’ll have it once in a while.”
“God, Sim, you just get worse and worse.”
You sat back down at his desk and started eating. “I bet you think I’m weird for liking math too, right?”
“That’s the worst offense of them all.” 
Jake’s sudden quietness caught you off guard. When you turned your head to look at him, he was already gazing at you with a smile and a sort of thoughtful glint to his eyes, resting his chin on his palm. It sounded like he was thinking out loud when he spoke next. “Guess we’re perfect opposites of each other. Like two peas in a pod!”
The realization of what he’d said dawned upon him as soon as the words left his mouth. He slowly lifted his head as his eyes widened. “I don’t mean- just, you know, since you’re good at English and I’m good at math, and- you know… I didn’t mean it in a weird way, or anything…”
His eyes kept glancing back and forth between you and his bowl of cereal, as if he was scared of looking directly at you but wanted to check your reaction. 
As a smile grew on your face, you kept your eyes trained on your biscuits so he wouldn’t see your flustered expression. But when you looked at him again, he held your gaze, mouth slightly agape. You didn’t have it in you that he had gotten the idiom completely wrong. “I know, don’t worry.” You chuckled. “We are opposites of each other. You just better be as good at teaching math as I am at teaching English,” you teased.
You watched as a smirk tugged one corner of Jake’s lips up and he raised an eyebrow. “Who said you were good at teaching English?”
You gasped. “You said you understood better now!”
Jake’s smile softened as he giggled. “I’m just teasing. You are a good teacher.”
You sat up straighter at the compliment, a proud smile on your face. “Your turn, Mr Sim. I’m all ears.”
“Right,” he said, mirroring your posture. “Shall we start by going over Mr Choi’s test from last week?” 
Your smile dropped instantly at this. Reluctantly, you fished your graded paper out of your bag. You already knew Mr Choi was a psychopath, but you still didn’t understand where he found the will to grade thirty papers over the weekend. You avoided Jake’s gaze as you handed him your test with a big, red, circled D- at the top.
You cringed as Jake sighed. “At least it’s not an F, right?” he said in what you could tell was an attempt at reassurance but somehow only made you feel worse. He looked over your answers quickly, trying to find what in particular you struggled with. “All right. Let’s start from the beginning, yeah?”
For the next forty-five minutes, Jake went over each test question with you, breaking them down and explaining how to solve them in a way you understood. The words he used were so much clearer than the half-assed explanations you were used to from Mr Choi, and for once, math actually made some sort of sense. Your brain still felt broken after almost an hour of numbers and greek letters, but at least, you felt smarter rather than dumber at the end of it. You had never been more grateful for the sound of a phone alarm than the one signaling tutoring was over. 
“That wasn’t half-bad, right?” Jake asked with a wide grin.
You felt so tired, you could probably pass out right then and there, but Jake looked so proud of himself after you had been able to complete an exercise correctly on your own that you didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. “Right,” you replied, mirroring his grin. “You’re an okay teacher, I guess.”
He jokingly glared and tutted at you, but you both laughed right after. “I need to walk Layla, so I can walk you home, if you want?” he offered as you started packing your things. His words had an uncertain tone to them, as if he wasn’t sure you’d still want to spend time with him after this - but it only took you a second of thinking to realize you’d rather continue hanging out with him than going home on your own.
“Sure! I need to walk Kiwi too, actually.”
“Your dog’s name is Kiwi?!”
“Yes,” you said, chuckling at his fascinated tone.
“That’s an adorable name.”
“Thanks, I chose it.”
“Oh, then I take it back. Worst name I’ve ever heard for a dog.”
“Hey!” you exclaimed, lightly hitting him on the head with your math notebook, making him raise a hand in self-defense as he laughed.
“Sorry, sorry. Does your cat also have a fruit name?” 
A pause. “Mango,” you mumbled, and he immediately burst into laughter again. You side-eyed him as you zipped up your bag.
“Wow, you have amazing taste in pet names, Y/N.”
“Shut up,” you said, laughing along. Then you realized something, and you suddenly stopped laughing, looking up at Jake with wide eyes that made him slightly start to panic. “Oh my God, Jake, are our dogs going to meet?”
“Our dogs are going to meet,” he echoed in a sort of fascinated whisper. You both understood the other - dogs becoming friends was the cutest thing ever.
“Let’s go,” you whispered back excitedly.
When you reached the living room downstairs, you bid Mrs Sim goodbye, then went to the entrance to put your shoes back on. “You two sure get along well,” you heard her say to her son with a suggestive tone. Even though she had dropped the volume of her voice, the door was wide open and there were only a few meters between you, so you’d heard her loud and clear. 
“Geez, Mom,” Jake groaned, seemingly irked by his mom’s insinuation.
“It’s just you’ve never brought a girl home, Jakey-”
“Okay, we’re leaving now! Layla, come!”
You hadn’t even realized how wide you were grinning until Jake saw you tying your shoelaces and grumbled “What are you smiling so hard for.”
“Nothing,” you giggled, and your smile grew as you watched a grin break through his pretend-upset expression.
You sighed contentedly as you stepped outside, letting the crisp early April air hit your face. You tightened your scarf around your neck and buried your hands in your pocket and you and Jake started walking side by side, Layla happily leading the way. The streets were fairly quiet at this time of day, save for the yells of children still playing in their backyards before dinner and a few cars of people coming home late from work.
Only the first five seconds of the walk were silent, until you couldn’t contain yourself anymore. “So, never brought a girl home, huh?” you asked with a teasing smirk.
Jake let out an offended scoff and looked up to the sky as if God could help him out of this one. Sadly, He didn’t, so Jake had to find an answer himself. “I’m not talking about this with you.”
“Why not?”
Pouting, Jake spared you a sideway glance. “Because you’re a girl,” he replied, voice lowered to a mumble.
You chuckled at this. “Very astute observation, Jake.”
“No, I- Ugh,” he groaned before laughing along with you. “I don’t need a girl to know how bad I am with- well, with girls.”
“I can help with that,” you said before you really thought about it. “I mean, I’m not a love expert by any means, but I can maybe give, I don’t know, pointers or something if there’s someone you like-”
“There’s no one I like,” Jake quickly cut in. “Um, not right now, at least.”
“O-okay,” you replied, nodding. “That’s fine.” 
“What about you? Do you like anyone?”
As Jake asked the question, he realized he already knew the answer - you liked Sunghoon. How could he forget?! Half of his plan had been to make you get closer to his friend, but he hadn’t even started thinking about that yet. In his defense, he’d come up with that plan three days ago.
Your answer surprised him. “Um, no, me neither. Not right now, at least,” you said, repeating his words with a smile on your face. You locked eyes for a second before looking away at the same time, chuckling.
“Right,” he said. He knew what he had read in your diary, so maybe you were just too shy to admit you had a crush on his friend of all people.
An unexpected awkwardness settled between the two of you, and you more than anything wanted it to go away. Even though it’d only been a few days since you and Jake had started getting to know each other, you already felt comfortable enough to be yourself around him, and it usually took you weeks before reaching that level with anyone. This hadn’t happened since you met Yena and Hyewon at the beginning of high school - they had been friends since middle school, and so had you and Chaewon, and when the four of you met, you had instant chemistry. But maybe it was slightly too early to start talking about crushes with Jake.
For once, you were the one to break the silence - you asked him whether he knew what he wanted to do after school. Basic question, but you were genuinely curious. 
Looking a little bashful, he confessed his dream had always been to be a math teacher and soccer coach at a middle or high school. You told him he already had the talent for it, and when he blushed at your words, you made sure to tease him for it.  
“I’m not sure yet,” you said when he returned the question. “I know I wanna go to college and continue doing English Lit and theater there, but that’s about it.”
“That’s already good enough,” Jake said with a smile. “Still got time to figure out what comes after, right?”
You naturally mirrored his smile - there was something contagious about Jake’s puppyish grin that made it hard not to smile yourself. “Right.”
The three of you reached your house quickly after that. Your mom still hadn’t come home from work, so Kiwi was even more excited than usual for your arrival home. You and Jake watched fondly as your dogs sniffed each other for a few seconds before starting to run around together. The fact that they got along made you really happy, perhaps unreasonably so, and you started bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet as you watched them play. “Our dogs are friends!” you exclaimed excitedly. 
When you turned to look at Jake, he wasn’t watching the dogs like you had been - he was gazing straight at you, eyes soft with something that made your heart skip a beat. You couldn’t look away, and it was only after a few seconds that he seemed to snap out of the sort of daze he was in. He cleared his throat and you finally tore your eyes away from him.
“Let me just- Kiwi! I need to put his leash around him,” you said, speaking quickly to dissipate the weird atmosphere as best as you could. You led Jake down the path you usually took with Kiwi that led to a park in your neighborhood, and you were relieved when normal conversation started again.
Jake insisted on walking you back to your house even though he had left his earlier. He made a whole show of not going until you’d walked inside and closed the door, so you’d rushed to your window to shout his name and wave goodbye at him, which made him laugh.
You turned back to Kiwi when Jake and Layla had turned a corner and you couldn’t watch them anymore. “Are you happy you made a new friend, Kiwi?”
The Corgi barked happily at you in response - probably more at hearing his name than because he understood your question, but still, you liked to think you could communicate with your dog on such a level. You chuckled and took him in your arms. “Me too.”
Apparently, you couldn’t even wave to someone in the hallway without being interrogated about it anymore.
“Y/N, did you just say hi to Jake Sim?” Chaewon asked like you’d just insulted her whole family.
It was 10 a.m. on a simple Tuesday morning, the day after Jake and you had studied together for the first time, and you’d just walked past the boy - so of course, you said hi to him. Maybe, your heart started beating slightly faster when you’d noticed him approaching. Maybe, it was nice to be on the receiving end of his friendly grin.
“Yes?” you replied, sentence coming out more like a question.
“Since when do you say hi to Jake Sim?!” 
“Since today, I guess.”
“But why?!” She’d raised her voice so much, you’d gotten strange looks from other students in the hallway. 
“I told you!”
She shook her head slowly at you as if to say, No you didn’t!
You rolled your eyes and sighed. Chaewon and her early onset short-term memory loss. “The backpack thing? And agreeing to tutoring each other? I wrote to the group chat about this!”
“Oh, that! Of course I remember that,” she said, even though you knew she had forgotten about it and remembered it just now. “So, has that started already?”
You reached the classroom for your next class and sat down in your usual seats next to each other, waiting for the teacher to arrive. Busy hallways like these were the perfect place for gossip, because they were loud and nobody paid attention to others’ conversations. “Yeah, yesterday afternoon.”
Chaewon gasped. “And you didn’t tell us?!”
“Will you quiet down? I was going to see and tell you guys today anyway.”
“Okay, so, tell me about it.”
“But-”
“Tell. Me.”
You wouldn’t see Yena and Hyewon until lunch in two hours, and you knew Chaewon didn’t have the patience to wait until then. So you sighed again and obliged, telling her about your afternoon with Jake in every detail you could remember, because she would ask about insignificant things anyway. 
To your surprise, the first thing she said when you were done talking was this: “Y/N, do you like Jake?”
Your mouth opened slightly in shock at the question, but before you could even retort, you started giggling. “No, I don’t,” you said in a way that sounded like you very much did.
“Oh my God! You so do!” Chaewon said, giggling along with you. “You whore, you’ve only talked to him, like, twice,” she joked.
You gasped fake-dramatically and slapped her arm. “Oh please, look at Hyewon and Jaemin, they started dating after a week of talking.”
“Yes, and they’ve been going one year strong, so clearly, you need to ask Jake out and get this over with. You’ll get a boyfriend and a math tutor all-in-one, it’s a perfect deal!”
“Don’t get too carried away, okay? Jake and I are friends. Like you said, we barely know each other right now.”
You meant this - sure, you had had a really good time with Jake both times you saw him, and you were looking forward to your next tutoring session, but you chalked it up to the excitement of making a new friend. Plus, barely last week you felt some sort of way towards his best friend - wouldn’t it be weird to practically transfer your feelings from Sunghoon to Jake?
“Whatever. Yena and Hyewon are gonna freak when I tell them,” Chaewon said excitedly.
You shook your head at your friend but couldn’t keep down the amused grin on your face. “You guys are insane.”
“Oh please, like you’re not the president of our Park Sunghoon fanclub. I can’t believe you’re leaving us for his best friend!”
“Hey, if anything, less competition for you, right?”
Chaewon opened her mouth to say something, but the teacher arrived, starting the lesson before having even put her bag down - Mrs Lee always arrived late but never wasted a second of class when she was in the room. Your friend resorted to sticking her tongue out at you instead, and you chuckled at her childishness as you opened your History notebook. 
Jake was a complete, total, utter idiot. His plan had consisted of two things only, and he’d somehow managed to forget one of them, even after talking about it with you, albeit vaguely. It had taken him two weeks and one Park Sunghoon to even remember it.
Between Jake’s soccer practice, Sunghoon’s ice skating practice and Jay’s being away at boarding school, the three friends only had one night every week on which they were all free - Friday night. So, every Friday, they planned some sort of hang out at one of their houses and gamed or watched movies all night.
Kinda like date night, but for bros.
This was one of those bro nights; namely, the one in the second week of you and Jake tutoring each other. The boys had decided to go to the burger joint they like that night and were in the middle of a french fry fight when Sunghoon mentioned your and Jake’s new friendship.
“So, Jake… what’s up with you and Y/N?”
Jake halted in his motions, redirecting to his mouth the fry he was about to throw at Jay. “Nothing’s up with me and Y/N. What makes you say that?”
“Just, you know, you seem like you’ve become actual friends. Talking in the hallways and walking your dogs together and whatnot.”
“Y/N as in Y/N? Sunghoon’s Y/N?” Jay said, halfway through a bite of his cheeseburger.
“She’s not my Y/N-”
“Yes, Y/N as in Y/N, you idiot,” Jake cut in. “And like you said, we’re friends.”
“Is she the girl you posted some BeReals with?” Jay asked, and Jake nodded. “She’s pretty! No wonder Sunghoon likes her so much.”
Sunghoon sighed as he let his head hang low. “God forbid I find a girl cute, because I’ll mention it once, two years ago and you guys make me out to be in love with her.”
“Sunghoon, you act like girls don’t exist, so of course when you not only mention a girl, but describe her as cute, that means you’re in love with her!”
“But I’m not! We were literally having a whole conversation about girls, I happened to see Y/N and her friends from far away, I said she was cute, and now you guys won’t let me live it down. Jay, you weren’t even there!”
“Yeah, but the way Jake told me about the whole thing, it really sounded like you liked her.”
“Why would you trust Jake to relay something like this correctly?!”
Jay paused and tilted his head. “You have a point there.”
“Hey!”
“So you don’t, like… like her, or something?” Sunghoon asked, looking at his friend as he sipped on his Pepsi.
This made Jake stop. Did he like you? Wasn’t the fact that he was considering it sign enough? Surely, if there was nothing there, he would have answered no right away.
But there was no use thinking about it. You liked Sunghoon. And as much as he liked to deny it, Jake knew Sunghoon liked you, too. After two years, there was finally an opportunity for the two of you to get closer - Jake wasn’t about to get in the middle of that. If anything, he should help his friends out. Then, when you and Sunghoon eventually got married, Jake would have the honor of saying it was all thanks to him in his best man’s speech. 
“No, I don’t. Don’t worry, Hoon, I’m not gonna steal your girl away from you.”
“Again, she’s not my girl-”
“Whatever you say. I’ll introduce you guys.”
Even if Sunghoon didn’t think he liked you yet, Jake knew it was just a matter of time - his friend just needed to spend a few hours with you to realize he did. You were pretty, smart, funny, nice, had the sweetest laugh he’d ever heard, got along with dogs, and even though you sometimes had weird opinions, it was always fun, talking to you. It was easy and comfortable. Anyone with taste would fall for you.
Anyone, except for Jake, of course.
For the past three weeks, you and Jake had gotten along perfectly, but today, on this bright Tuesday afternoon, you really wanted to strangle him. 
When he’d invited you to come and watch him at soccer practice, you’d been surprised, but happy - usually, you invited people to watch an actual game, not just practice. But you were just glad for the opportunity to spend more time with him. 
Without realizing it, you were giddy with excitement the whole day, counting down the minutes until classes were over and Jake’s practice started. Jake had told you to just head to the bleachers while the players got ready in the locker room, but when you reached said bleachers, someone was already sitting there, looking at something on their phone. You recognized him immediately as Sunghoon. He didn’t notice you right away, so you had time to wipe the surprise off of your face - you hadn’t thought anyone came to watch practice, but Sunghoon was probably here for Jake, just like you. 
“Hey,” you said quietly as you sat down next to him. Even though you were technically still on school property, this was the first time you saw Sunghoon outside of somewhere like a classroom, a hallway or the cafeteria. You weren’t as nervous as you thought you’d be, seeing him unexpectedly like this. 
You chuckled when Sunghoon started at your sudden arrival. “Oh, hey, Y/N,” he said, chuckling too, albeit somewhat awkwardly. “Sorry, didn’t hear you coming.”
“It’s fine,” you said with a smile as you sat down next to him on the bleachers. You didn’t know what sort of distance was appropriate between you two, if you should sit close or far, but you stopped yourself before you could overthink something as trivial as that. Neither of you said anything for a few seconds and you wished practice had started before you got here, so that you’d have something to look at other than an empty field.
You broke the silence before it became too uncomfortable. “So, do you come watch Jake often?”
You’d been fiddling with your hands as you spoke, only turning your head to look at Sunghoon as you awaited his answer. Your eyes didn’t even meet for a fraction of a second before he whipped his head to look at the field, as if unable to look at you and talk at the same time. At least he had a nice side profile for you to look at.
“Um, just on Tuesdays. I have ice skating practice after this, so I come here first, then he comes with me to the rink,” he replied. He glanced at you, lips pressed into a thin line that somewhat resembled a smile and that pushed dimples into his cheeks. You simply hummed in response. 
“What about you, how come you’re here?”
“Jake asked me,” you replied. Sunghoon let out a long “oh” as he nodded, turning his head back towards the field again. You didn’t think you’d ever had such a slow conversation. It was like you and Sunghoon both repeated your words ten times over in your heads before saying them out loud.
“Are you coming to my practice, too?” he asked after another pause.
The question took you aback slightly as you hadn’t even considered it, but it could be fun, seeing Sunghoon practice ice skating. It’d also be fun to hang out with Jake. “If it’s fine with you, then yeah, why not,” you replied, smiling at Sunghoon. He glanced at you again before looking away with a smile, an actual one this time that showed his teeth and made his eyes crinkle.
“Yeah, sure. People usually only come to actual shows, so I like it when someone’s there to watch practice.” Before you could find something to say, the players arrived jogging onto the field, immediately starting their warm-up laps. Some were serious about it and stayed focused as they ran, while others goofed around, running backwards and slapping other players on their butts before sprinting away. Jake, of course, was part of the latter group.
Now that something was actually happening on the field, you and Sunghoon had an excuse not to make conversation anymore. You tried to ignore it, but it was so awkward you wanted to die. You realized now why you were so attracted to people like Jake and Chaewon - without even being aware of it, they brought you out of your shell and made you feel at ease. You wished you could do that on your own, but you were always too scared, so you needed that person who was confident enough showing themselves to you first to make you feel comfortable doing the same. You and Sunghoon, unfortunately, were too similar in that sense to do that for each other. So you just sat there in silence, observing Jake and waving back at him when he caught your gazes.
The ninety minutes of practice didn’t go by in total silence - you asked Sunghoon about some soccer rules you didn’t get, and he shared some anecdotes from his and Jake’s earlier teenage years, including a very entertaining story about a tantrum 9-year-old Jake had thrown when he hadn’t agreed with the red card the referee had given him. You weren’t sure how the topic came up, but at some point, you even shared pictures of your pets. Sunghoon had one of those small crusty white dogs, but you kept your laughter in and cooed over how cute she was. 
But still, most of the time, you were watching Jake. You had never been interested in soccer or any sort of sport that involved balls until now. Somehow, he managed to make flushed cheeks, a heaving chest and hairline beaded with sweat look glorious. In total honesty, you were paying more attention to the player himself than to the sport, to the point that you barely noticed when he scored a goal during their practice match. It was only when Jake started cheering and high-fiving his teammates that you realized what had happened, and you gave him two thumbs up and a wide grin when he looked your and Sunghoon’s way, proudly shouting “Did you see that?!”
The realization hit you like a ton of bricks right there and then. The way your heart swelled as you watched his excited, puppyish grin take over his features was undeniable - you liked Jake. You like liked him. Your gaze continued to follow him as he finished his celebratory lap. If you could’ve seen yourself right then, you’d probably have been embarrassed by your awestruck expression and slightly agape mouth, but you couldn’t help yourself.
Much to your dismay, you realized that Chaewon had seen right through you. You hadn’t wanted to read too much into your feelings, but they had become too obvious to ignore. You hadn’t experienced them yourself since middle school (Choi Soobin had really been a heartbreaker back then), but you’d heard about the telltale signs of a crush too many times not to know about them. It was now clear that the way you felt about Jake and the way you had felt about Sunghoon were worlds apart. Feeling nervous around him and your heart skipping a beat when you made eye contact; wanting to see him smile; laughing at all his jokes, even the bad ones; missing him even though it’d been seconds since you said goodbye, and counting down the days until you saw him again. And, yes, looking at his pictures on social media over and over again. You did all those things, so you knew there was no point in lying to yourself anymore - you liked Jake Sim. 
It didn’t help that he was always kind to you, never making you feel stupid for not understanding something in your tutoring sessions and being patient enough to explain the same thing over and over again. He always paid attention to small things, which never failed to make your heart race, like asking after your aging cat’s condition after you’d told him he had a health check-up over the weekend or stocking up on your favorite snack the week after you’d told him about it. He’d also immediately picked up on your habit of teasing the people you felt comfortable with and you loved how he returned it tenfold. It was as much fun debating with him over nothing and making him shut up with your senseless arguments as it was being rendered speechless when he came up with the perfect retort. 
And of course, there was no denying that Jake was ridiculously attractive. There were times you got so caught up in the way his lips moved as he spoke or the way his fingers looked as he pointed at numbers on the page that your mind completely blanked out and you stopped listening to his words for a few seconds. You didn’t know what to make of his small chuckle and smirk when he noticed your gaze fixated on him, but you knew it wasn’t good for your heart. And let’s not even get started on the fact that sitting so close to him meant you could smell the lingering scent of his cologne every single time.
Even now, with flushed cheeks and hair slicked back with sweat, you want to run onto the field and give him a big smooch on his cheek, telling him you were proud of him for scoring that goal.
But even though you were getting closer and he had offered for you to come watch his practice, you squashed down as best as you could any hope that he might feel the same way about you. Even if he insisted he was bad with girls, Jake was popular at school, and you were sure there were many other girls who had a crush on him - so why would he like you of all people?
Sunghoon’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Every time he scores, he acts like it’s the first time he’s ever done it,” he said, chuckling and shaking his head at his friend’s over-dramatic antics. The coach was trying to get Jake to calm down so that the game could resume.
“He’s so cute,” you said, voice quiet, before you could stop yourself. But as soon as the words were out, you realized what you’d done, and your eyes doubled in size as you turned to look at Sunghoon. He had whipped his head to look at you, too, and his eyes were just as big as yours. Then, he burst into laughter, and you hoped the Earth would suddenly open beneath your feet and swallow you whole. 
When his surprise had subsided, Sunghoon turned to you again, an incredulous but amused glint in his eyes. “Did you just call Jake cute?”
You crossed your arms over your chest, slightly frowning as you avoided Sunghoon’s gaze. “I just meant, you know, it’s cute how excited he got. I didn’t say he was cute,” you mumbled, knowing you were doing a poor job of defending yourself.
“That’s exactly what you said, though. You said, and I quote, He’s so cute.” You glared at Sunghoon. Who knew he would only become talkative once it came to teasing you about Jake? 
His expression softened slightly when he realized you might actually be upset about this, and he turned his attention back towards the field, smile growing when he found his friend. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything.”
“There’s nothing to be said anyway.”
“Oh? So you don’t mind if I tell Jake that you have the biggest, fattest crush on- hmph!”
You’d cut Sunghoon off by pressing your palm to his mouth, mustering the most menacing look you could to scare him off. “I do not,” you said firmly as you moved your hand away from him.
“Sure, you don’t,” he replied, chuckling. Clearly, your most menacing look wasn’t so menacing.
“I get why Jake’s so annoying now, it’s because he’s friends with you.”
Sunghoon raised an amused eyebrow at this. “He might be annoying, but he’s also cute, right?”
“Shut up!” you shrieked immediately, but you couldn’t stop the grin forcing its way onto your lips.
“Just saying,” Sunghoon said, and you laughed together. Maybe you should’ve been more worried about Jake’s literal best friend finding out you had a crush on him, but you somehow trusted Sunghoon not to blabber about it. Whether because he was nice or because he wanted to watch you struggle with your feelings, you weren’t sure, but at least you felt your secret was safe with him.
You looked back at the field, and just as your eyes found Jake, you saw him turn his head away. Had you seen him just seconds prior, you might have noticed the crease in his eyebrows as he watched you and Sunghoon laugh together. Sunghoon isn’t that funny, he thought, what could you be laughing so hard about?
He didn’t understand the sudden weight in his heart at the sight of you and his friend getting along so well. This was his whole plan after all - force some proximity between you and Sunghoon so that you could talk and hopefully make your feelings clear to each other after some time. Clearly, it was working. So why was it bothering him so much? 
He had to turn his attention back to the game, so he could only ruminate over it for five seconds, but for the remaining thirty minutes, he could barely focus on anything. Whenever he glanced back at you and Sunghoon, you were both looking at him and not talking to each other, and that somehow bothered him even more. 
He used his time in the lockers to get out of the weird mood he was in - whatever was going on between you and Sunghoon, he didn’t want to ruin it by being grumpy. So when he came back out and found the two of you waiting for him at the bus stop, he put on his best smile. 
Having you around made his usual Tuesday afternoon with Sunghoon more fun - after years of friendship, Sunghoon ignored most of his jokes and could tune the sound of his voice out, but you still laughed at everything he said, and his heart swelled with pride every time he made you laugh.
It was only a ten-minute bus ride from the school to the ice rink so you still had twenty minutes to spare before Sunghoon’s lesson started. As always after soccer practice, Jake was famished, so you stopped by a convenience store and got more snacks than you really needed.
You sat next to Sunghoon and across from Jake at a picnic table in front of the ice rink, watching the boy in front of you with fascination as he gorged himself on banana milk and chocolate snacks.
“God, how long has it been since you last ate?” you asked with genuine concern in your voice. Sunghoon followed your gaze towards Jake, only then noticing his friend’s feral behavior as if this was a normal occurrence for them.
“Like three hours,” Jake answered. “I’m starving. So hungry I could eat Sunghoon.”
When he looked up, you were both peering at him with furrowed eyebrows and bewildered expressions on your faces. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Do you mean that Sunghoon is a horse?” you asked.
Jake mirrored your confused expressions. “What? No, why would I say that?”
“The saying goes, so hungry I could eat a horse, dumbass,” Sunghoon chimed in.
“Why would I eat a horse?” Jake replied, shaking his head and chuckling at you and Sunghoon like you were the ones who had gotten a basic idiom wrong.
“Why would you eat me?” Sunghoon bit back, sounding almost offended.
“It’s just a saying, dude.”
Half-an-hour and two whole packets of biscuits later, you and Jake sat side-by-side on the benches, watching Sunghoon as he did his warm-ups on the ice. This was your first time seeing a professional ice skater and you were transfixed, to say the least. He was just skating across the rink and rolling his arms and neck to get the muscles moving, but it all seemed so effortless and elegant that you couldn’t help but watch with your mouth slightly open, eyes eager to keep up with Sunghoon’s figure.
You were so mesmerized that you had no idea Jake was practically burning holes into the side of your face. Eyes narrowed and nose scrunched in disgust, he couldn’t believe you were enjoying the show in front of you that much. “He’s not even doing anything special right now, you know,” he said, but it only made him realize that when Sunghoon did start doing cool stuff, you’d like it even more.
Your head barely budged in Jake’s direction as you answered him, and your eyes certainly didn’t leave Sunghoon. “Really? It already looks so cool, though.” Jake scoffed, but that still didn’t get your attention, which made him scoff again. He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned like a child whose parent wasn’t paying attention to their drawing. 
“Cooler than me?”
Finally, you look at me, Jake thought, and his frown immediately dissipated into a grin when your eyes met. But judging by the teasing way your lips curled up, he already knew he wasn’t going to like your answer.
“Cooler than you,” you replied before turning your attention back to the rink.
Jake leans back with a pout, opting to glare at his friend instead of you. He tried to put himself in your shoes and figure out what it was about Sunghoon you liked so much that Jake didn’t also have. Devastatingly good looks? Check. Charming smile? Check. Cute dog? Check - Jake more so than Sunghoon. Brains? Okay, both of them lacked this. Good personality? Check - however, you needed months before Sunghoon revealed himself to you, whereas Jake was outgoing and was comfortable even with people he’d just met. 
So why was the bearer of your affection Sunghoon and not Jake?
And why did Jake even care that you liked his friend over him in the first place?
It wasn’t like Jake liked you - he couldn’t like a girl that his best friend liked - so why did this at all matter to him? If anything, the fact that you liked Sunghoon back should’ve been something to rejoice over. It had been, up until now, and Jake couldn’t figure out why. He couldn’t figure out this weird sensation that had plagued him in the soccer field and followed him to the ice rink as he watched you watch Sunghoon with amazement.
Jake was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even notice when you detached your eyes from Sunghoon, who was talking to his coach, and tilted your head at him. “Jake?” 
The boy only let out a low hum, still too upset to look at you.
An amused grin made your lips quirk up. “Are you pouting because I said Sunghoon was cooler than you?”
Jake scoffed, turning his head away from you. “No.”
A pause. “So you don’t mind if I go on and on about how elegant and beautiful ice skating is, while running after a ball and kicking it is the basis of the stupidest sport in the world?”
Jake glared at you, but it only made you smile more. “It’s not stupid.”
Despite himself, his pretend angry facade broke apart at the sound of your airy giggles. Jake didn’t think his ears had ever been graced with such a pretty sound before - he slapped himself mentally as soon as that thought crossed his mind. 
His heart did jumps and spins more impressive than Sunghoon’s when you reached a hand out to ruffle his hair, shaking your head at his behavior. For once, he was glad that you turned back to Sunghoon so that you wouldn’t see the bright blush spreading all over his face.
For the next hour, Jake put his weird feelings to the side and watched his friend practice his routine for his upcoming competition. Even he had to admit that Sunghoon looked pretty cool doing what he loved.
You told him you found it all the more impressive because you’d never skated before, so it looked unachievable to you, and an idea immediately formed in Jake’s mind. As soon as Sunghoon’s practice was over, he rushed over to his friend and asked if the two of you could join him on the ice. Sunghoon turned to his coach, who simply shrugged.
“I trust you to look after them,” she said. “Just make sure to be out when the hockey team gets here.”
Before you knew it, Jake was helping you tie up your ice skates (the sight of which made you faint-hearted) and both boys helped you onto the ice rink, each holding onto one of your hands as you tried not to freak out at the feeling of your knees being so wobbly. Sunghoon demonstrated how to move around the ice, and soon enough, you’d gotten the hang of it - but you still made sure to keep Jake at an arm’s length so you could grab onto him every time you lost your balance. Jake stayed by your side, smiling fondly at how excited you looked and cheering you on every time you took a step of your own. Sunghoon, on the other hand, seemed to find it funny to watch from afar and point and laugh every time you stumbled.
After some time, Sunghoon announced he was feeling hungry and decided to go eat some snacks, leaving you and Jake alone in the rink. The wink Sunghoon threw your way when Jake wasn’t looking let you know what his true intentions were, and you couldn’t believe Jake’s best friend had just become your wingman.
“Feeling ready to skate around the rink?” Jake asked. His boyish grin was contagious, and you found yourself matching it even though you were still nervous about moving around too much.
“If you help me,” you answered tentatively, looking at him worriedly as you held out your hand for him to take. The softness of his gaze as he smiled down at you made you want to melt into a puddle on the floor.
“Of course,” he said, taking your hand in his warm one. Your fingers intertwined as if out of second nature and you thought you finally understood why people said their hands were meant to hold someone else’s.
Being friends with an ice skater for such a long time meant Jake had acquired some skill, too, which is why he could so easily show you how to turn or pick up speed. Whenever you lost your balance, he was always quick enough to make sure you didn’t actually fall, picking you up before your backside could touch the ice. He found your frightened expression every time you thought you would fall absolutely adorable, but your pout and slight frown whenever he teased you were somehow even cuter.
He only let go of your hand after some ten minutes (neither of you had even begun to question Sunghoon’s whereabouts by then) when he came to stand in front of you, a serious expression on his face.
“I think you’re ready, Y/N,” he declared solemnly.
“Ready for…?” you asked, scared of whatever he had in mind.
He leaned in slightly and the sudden proximity took you aback, but he didn’t seem to realize. A mischievous smirk broke through his handsome features. “A race,” he whispered, then skated to one edge of the rink and motioned for you to follow him. Reluctantly, you did.
“First to the other edge has to…” he thought for a second, gazing at the ceiling. You wanted to be mad at him for proposing a race when you’d literally just learned how to skate, but how could you when he looked so cute and giddy, searching for the loser’s penalty? “Buy the other ice cream!”
Your eyes were probably the image of tenderness as you looked at him. “Deal,” you said, wanting to sound as playful as him but voice coming out soft. Since when had you fallen so hard for him?
You held each other’s gazes for a couple more seconds before both turning in front of you, getting ready for your race. Jake counted down from three, and your skating wasn’t so bad at first - until you got too cocky for your own good, trying to go at a pace you clearly couldn’t handle. Before you knew it, your knees betrayed you and you found yourself tripping over, your butt making a loud thump sound as it came into contact with the ice.
On your way down, you’d shrieked Jake’s name, and he was at your side in the blink of an eye, holding your shoulder and looking at you worriedly. The pain was immediate, and for a few seconds, you couldn’t answer him and reassure him that you were fine.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked to race, God Y/N I’m so stupid I’m so sorry are you okay I didn’t want you to get hurt-”
“Jake,” you squeaked.
“Yeah?”
“I’m okay, calm down,” you said when the pain subsided, managing a smile. “I’ll just have a sore butt tomorrow.” He chuckled at the word ‘butt,’ but you didn’t have it in you to roll his eyes at his childishness.
“Are you sure you’re okay? There’s an infirmary here-”
“I’m sure, Jakey-poo,” you teased, making him lose the concerned expression as he bore an unimpressed one instead.
“I guess you are fine if you can think to call me that. Come on, up!” he said as he stood up, reaching his hands out for you to take. Just as he helped you up, Sunghoon came sprinting and stood at the entrance to the rink.
“Is everything okay? I heard a yell,” he said, slightly out-of-breath with half a biscuit in his mouth. Guess he really was eating this whole time.
You and Jake laughed and shook your head at him, and you reassured him that everything was fine. 
“Good, ‘cause the hockey team’s here and we have to go anyway.”
There was a bus that took Sunghoon directly from the ice rink to his house, but you and Jake had to go back to the school to catch the one you usually took, which meant you had a forty-minute journey in front of you. And yet, Jake’s company made those forty minutes feel like five, and you found yourself disappointed when the bus neared your stop.
“If you want, we can still go walk Kiwi and Layla,” he offered shyly a few minutes before your stop, as if he’d read your mind. 
“I’d love to.” You watched as his small smile bloomed into a wider one.
“I’m glad,” he chuckled, relieved. “I was scared you’d be tired of me after spending the whole afternoon together,” he admitted, looking down at his lap with a bashful expression on his face. It wasn’t often that Jake looked timid like this, but whenever he did, your heart tripled in size.
“I don’t think I could get tired of you.” You were too shy to look him in the eye while you said this, but in your peripheral, you saw his grin get impossibly wider and his eyebrows raise. He bumped your shoulder with his, making the both of you burst into giggles.
You were still smiling long after you’d come home from your walk.
Unfortunately for Jake, forcing you and Sunghoon to sit together for ninety minutes hadn’t resulted in the two of you confessing your undying love for the other and getting together - clearly, his plan hadn’t worked very well. But Jake, instead of coming up with another strategy, decided he should just basically do the same thing again and hope it went better this time. 
Bro night had been a tradition for the past three years that the boys only very rarely broke, in cases of illness, filial obligations or important competitions the following day. This wasn’t any one of those cases, but Jake decided bro night must be slightly sacrificed that night - for your and Sunghoon’s sake. Years down the line, he knew you’d thank him.
This was why he tricked you into thinking you had been invited to bro night (you’d heard a lot about it and considered it an honor to be included) when really, he made Jay promise not to show at the cinema so that you and Sunghoon could be alone. The two of them would make up an excuse about not being able to make it on time and show up later at the diner (“If you want to set them up, shouldn’t we also leave them alone after the movie?” Jay had asked Jake over the phone, and Jake had been unable to explain why he didn’t want you to spend the whole night alone with Sunghoon).
“They ditched us,” Sunghoon had said in lieu of a greeting when you found him at the entrance of the cinema. He turned his phone screen towards you, showing you their group chat - Jay had had some sort of meeting at his school that had run late and Jake had to go to the vet suddenly because Layla kept making weird noises.
“Oh no, I hope she’ll be okay,” you said, voice laced with genuine worry.
Sunghoon just sighed. “I’m sure she will.” He knew what his friends were up to - it almost never happened that one of them was unable to make it to bro night, so two at once? They were clearly lying. He would make sure to tell Jake how worried sick you were about his dog’s fake illness later on just so his friend would feel extra guilty.
You had been looking forward to hanging out with Jake and his friends all day, so you were disappointed to know he wouldn’t make it until later. It wasn’t much comfort that the movie they had picked, some recent Marvel release, was one you were not at all interested in, and you couldn’t even obsess over Jake’s presence next to you instead of the movie because he wasn’t there. You’d have to sit with awkward, quiet Sunghoon for God knows how long - at least the cinema wasn’t much of a talking place. 
You declined his kind offer of sharing a big popcorn tub - you didn’t want to risk a cliché reaching-for-popcorn-at-the-same-time moment with Sunghoon, although you’d daydreamed and giggled about it happening with Jake earlier that day. Instead, you sipped grumpily on your Cherry Coke, watching the trailers for upcoming movies and discussing them with Sunghoon. (“I’m so excited for the Barbie movie,” he’d surprised you by saying. Maybe he wasn’t so bad.)
As the lights dimmed, announcing the imminent start of the movie, Sunghoon whispered something that completely changed your mind about Marvel. “It’s so stupid that Jake isn’t here, seriously. He’s been going on and on about going to see this movie since the trailer came out.” Suddenly, you’d never felt the need to pay attention to something more than this. 
Well, in your humble opinion, the film wasn’t anything to write home about. It was a lot of loud action scenes with some funny one-liners that, okay, you chuckled at. And the actors were hot. You could sort of see why Jake would enjoy Marvel movies, although you yourself liked films with more social commentary, such as Mean Girls or Bee Movie. You’d need to make Jake watch Twilight one of these days - you were sure he’d like the soundtrack, if nothing else.
At least, you and Sunghoon have something to talk about during your short walk to the diner. As you enter the restaurant, a familiar voice calling out your name catches you off-guard.
“Chaewon? I thought you didn’t work on Friday nights!” you exclaimed, letting your friend bring you into a hug. You gave her a once-over - she always looked so pretty in her work uniform, white t-shirt dress draping her body perfectly, apron cinching at her waist, and short pigtails under her 50’s style diner hat. If the blush spreading on Sunghoon’s cheeks at her sudden appearance was anything to go by, his thoughts might not have been too far from yours.
She pouted, taking your hands in hers and swaying them between the two of you. “I usually don’t, but Yunjin asked me to trade shifts and she always says yes when I ask her, so I felt bad saying no.” You nodded and she turned to Sunghoon.
“Hi, Sunghoon!”
“H-hi, Chaewon.”
“Where’s Jay and Jake?” she asked, looking behind the two of you. You’d told the group chat about your evening plans and a lot of freaking out had taken place. 
“Should be here any minute,” you sighed, and when she looked at you questioningly, you told her you’d explain later.
She sat you at a four-person booth by the window and brought you drinks (“On the house,” she’d said with a wink, but you weren’t sure this had been allowed by any of her superiors) for you to sip on while you waited for the others. Every time she was free, she came over to your table and gossiped about the customers. You did not miss the way Sunghoon’s face lit up whenever she approached you.
Jake and Jay see you before you see them. Jay, the only one with a driver’s license out of the three, had picked Jake up, and he was parking his car when Jake gasped loudly, making Jay jump. “I’m trying to park, man, can you be calm?”
“What’s she doing here?” Jake exclaimed, completely ignoring his friend.
Jay followed Jake’s gaze, but he wasn’t sure what his friend was going on about. All he saw was you, whom he recognized from pictures only, Sunghoon, and a waitress that seemed overly-friendly. “Who?” he asked.
“Chaewon,” Jake hissed, like her name was a curse. “She’s ruining our plan!”
Jay sighed. “First of all, this is your plan. Second of all, it was ruined from the beginning. And by that, I mean that your plan sucks, Jake.”
Jake clicked his teeth. “Whatever. Let’s just go,” he said, getting out of the car and heading straight for you. He made sure to give Chaewon a pointed look as he sat next to you in the booth, but she just seemed happy that more people had arrived. 
You bumped your knee into his to get his attention. “Hi,” you said with a smile.
He looked at you dumbly for a few seconds before Jay cleared his throat awkwardly. “Hi. This is Jay,” he said, tilting his head towards the boy but not taking his eyes off of you. You and Jay exchanged hey’s before Chaewon took your order, quickly giving it to the kitchen and scanning the room to make sure every table had what they needed, then headed back to your table. 
“Is Layla okay?” you asked Jake, worry making your brows furrow.
“Huh?” The sudden mention of his dog took him aback. Why wouldn’t she be okay?
“Layla?” you repeated, tilting your head. “Is she okay? You said you had to go to the vet.”
His eyes widened as he remembered his lie from earlier, and he started nodding frantically. “Oh yeah, yeah, she’s fine, we panicked over nothing,” he said with a nervous giggle. Jake was the worst liar Jay and Sunghoon had ever seen, but you were none the wiser.
“What about you, Jay? How was your school thing?” Sunghoon asked, turning to his friend with a glare and making him choke on his Coke.
“Oh, that was fine too, I guess,” Jay mumbled.
As expected, Jake and Chaewon were experts at leading the conversation, and Jay himself was pretty talkative. They all bounced off of each other naturally, and even Sunghoon knew how to throw in witty remarks now and there. You also participated, but you were more than happy just listening to them and laughing along. You tried not to think too much about how your knee would bump into Jake’s once in a while, or how he seemed to look at you every time he made a joke.
At some point, Chaewon had rushed over to your table, looking right at you with wide eyes and beaming. “Oh my God Oh my God Oh my God, Y/N, hat guy is here!” 
You instantly mirrored her expression. “Where where where?” you asked, lifting your body up to scan around the restaurant.
“Over there in the corner, but be discreet!”
You were not at all discreet as your eyes found said hat guy, noting with satisfaction that he was characteristically hatless, and you burst into laughter. “I can’t believe he’s here!”
“Right? Probably has the munchies or something,” Chaewon said, laughing along.
You only noticed then the perplexed looks all three boys were sending your way. “Who the heck is hat guy?” Jake asked, which only made you and Chaewon laugh harder.
“You wouldn’t get it,” she replied airily, waving Jake off as she made her way to a customer who had called for her. 
The boys turned to you and you shrunk in your seat at their attention. “Just a guy the girls and I find funny,” you explained, shrugging and glancing quickly at Sunghoon. If only he knew about all the times you and the girls had gossiped about him, even though he’d done nothing of importance.
When her shift was over, the first thing Chaewon did was take off her apron, then dragged you to the bathroom, where she drilled you for details about your cinema “date” with Sunghoon. 
“It was not a date, it just ended up being the two of us because the others couldn’t make it,” you insisted, but she wasn’t having it. “There’s nothing to say anyway. We got there, talked a bit, watched the movie, walked here, and that’s it.”
Chaewon sighed, shaking her head as she reapplied her lip gloss. A small smile made its way onto your lips. “I think he’s into someone else anyway.” 
You noticed how her hand faltered for a split second. “Oh yeah? Who?” she asked, trying to appear nonchalant, but you knew your friend too well. 
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” 
Unbeknownst to either of you, the discussion between the boys back at the table was not too different from yours.
“Bro, I’m literally going to kill you,” Sunghoon whisper-yelled even though you were way out of earshot already. “Do you know how awkward that was?”
“Just so you know, I had nothing to do with this,” Jay said. “I told him that putting two socially constipated idiots like you wouldn’t end well, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“Y/N’s not an idiot!” Jake immediately reacted.
“And I am?!” Sunghoon retorted.
Jay just rolled his eyes.
“You are, because this is the second time you’re alone together with the girl you like and you can barely make conversation with her.”
“For the last time, I don’t like her, I just called her cute once in freshman year-”
“Same thing!”
“Jake, I don’t know how many times I can tell you the same thing before you get it. I’ve been around Y/N enough to know I don’t like her like that, okay? We’ve had two classes where we sat together for a whole semester, and we’ve worked with other people in group projects. Not to mention, you’ve made me sit through one of your practices with her. She’s nice. She sends me the homework when I miss class. She even laughs at my jokes sometimes. And her dog is super cute. I’m sure we’d be better friends if we both didn’t have crippling shyness, but I don’t like her like that. I just don’t.”
“But how?!”
“What do you mean how? This sorta thing doesn’t have any sort of reasonable answer, you just do or you don’t. I don’t. Clearly, you do.”
Jake heard the last part of Sunghoon’s words, and promptly decided to ignore them. He had to understand this first - he’d figure out his feelings later. “This whole time, I thought you were just downplaying your feelings, ‘cause you’re an awkward asshole who doesn’t do emotions,” he said, eyes tightly shut and holding his head, the confusion making his brain hurt.
“Okay, ouch. But no, I wasn’t. I really don’t know what got into your head.”
“I know what got into his head,” Jay said. Both of his friends looked at him questioningly, so he went on. “When Sunghoon mentioned Y/N, you probably thought she was super cute too, Jake. But because of bro code and whatnot, you didn’t wanna show any interest. And then as you saw her around more, you probably liked her more, but you thought Sunghoon liked her, so you sort of gave him your crush on her instead of dealing with it. You lived vicariously through him, basically. Except you’re an idiot because he doesn’t even like her like that, so you could’ve shot your shot a long time ago already. I don’t know why you didn’t just listen to him, to be honest,” Jay finished, shrugging.
“You also thought he liked her!” Jake retorted.
“That’s besides the point. The point is that you’re stupid.”
“But- but, what about all those times you talked about her? I didn’t make those up!” 
Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “The most I ever said about her was something like, Y/N and I both forgot our textbook today, or Y/N brought cookies for the class because it’s her birthday. You were always the one to notice her everywhere and go, There’s your crush, or something.”
Jake sighed, defeated. He could admit Sunghoon was right about something, and he was wrong - but he hated that Jay was also right. Had he really managed to bury his feelings for you all these years just for what he thought was Sunghoon’s sake? Sure, he was a loyal friend, but that felt a little much.
“Whatever,” he mumbled, recoiling from his friends’ expectant gazes and taking a sad bite of his cheeseburger. “It’s not like she likes me back, or anything.” 
He watched in confusion as Sunghoon let out a loud groan, screwing his eyes shut and taking his head in his hands as if it hurt. “This is so frustrating, I’m going to kill myself.”
Jake turned to Jay for some sort of explanation to their friend’s sudden suicidal thoughts, but Jay just looked back at Jake with disgust. “When did you become so dumb? I swear you didn’t use to be like this,” he said, shaking his head in disappointment.
Jake’s eyes flickered between his two friends in utter dismay. “What?”
“Jake,” Jay started. “Do you really, honestly, genuinely think Y/N doesn’t like you?”
The boy leaned back in his seat with a pout. “Yeah,” he mumbled.
Sunghoon’s head whipped up at this. Jake gulped at the intense glare his friend fixed him with - he’d never looked so angry with him, and it made Jake wonder what on Earth he could have said or done that made Sunghoon so upset. “Why?” he asked simply, but the frustration was evident in his voice.
Your diary popped up in Jake’s head. What he had read was clear. Of course, the entry dated from over a month ago now, but why would your feelings have changed since then? Jake sighs deeply, getting ready to reveal to his friends what he’d seen, but then he sees you and Chaewon emerging from the bathroom. “They’re coming back,” he mumbled.
It was Sunghoon and Jay’s turn to sigh. “Just pay attention to her, Jake, okay?” Jay instructed, giving his friend an intent look.
“I already do,” Jake replied, frowning.
“No, really pay attention to her. Then use your pea-sized brain for once in your life, and maybe you’ll realize something.”
A strongly-worded reply was on the tip of Jake’s tongue, but all thoughts of violence and murdering his friend were replaced by images of rainbows and pretty flowers when you smiled at him. He felt like the biggest of idiots for liking you so much and only realizing it now.
“Hi,” he said dumbly as you found your seat next to him again, then stole a french fry from you even though he had many left himself. When you gasped at his audacity, he just giggled.
“Hey!” you exclaimed in protest before stealing a fry back. 
If you hadn’t been so caught up in your little world, you’d have noticed the knowing look your three friends exchanged and their simultaneous eye roll. 
The following Monday, you decided to have your tutoring session at your house instead of Jake’s. His mom was away at a convention for the week, so you’d have to take the bus anyway - since your house was two stops earlier, you offered to switch it up for once. Jake had never actually been inside your house and was curious to see what it was like, so he eagerly agreed. 
Kiwi was happy to see him and followed the two of you around the house as you gave Jake a quick tour before going up to your room. When you reached the top landing, you realized that Kiwi was still at the bottom of the stairs and was looking up at you expectantly. “Is she not allowed upstairs?” Jake asked.
“Usually not, but I let her come up when my mom’s not here. Come on Kiwi! It’s okay!”
Kiwi didn’t need to be told twice - she trudged her little body up the stairs, and you couldn’t help but giggle at her adorableness. “She’s so cute,” you cooed, looking at your dog with a huge smile on your face.
“She really is,” Jake agreed, but when you turned your head to face him, he wasn’t looking at Kiwi - he was looking straight at you, a softness in his eyes that made your stomach turn. He snapped out of it when he noticed your round, surprised eyes, and cleared his throat. “So, where’s your room?” he asked, looking around the hallway and avoiding your gaze.
“Over there,” you replied, fighting the smile that tried to make its way to your lips as you headed towards your room, Jake and Kiwi following right behind. 
You told Jake to wait for a second as you went to get a second chair. When you came back, he was standing in front of your shelves, upper body slightly bent forwards to observe all the decorations and framed pictures closer. You placed the chair next to your desk then joined him, answering all the questions he had about the items on your shelves. Who’s this? When was this? Where did you get this? In his defense, you really did have a lot of things - you were trying to get rid of your hoarding habits, but you got attached to every small thing that held some sort of significance. You went to sit at the edge of your bed and just watched him, his eyes glinting with curiosity.
It reminded you of the first time you’d been to his house, how upset he’d seemed when you talked about his baby pictures and how you hadn’t wanted to risk looking at all the stuff in his room. You were also curious about things like that, and you wondered once again what had bothered him so much. The question was burning your tongue - although you were nervous to ask it, not wanting to upset Jake once more, you now knew him well enough to know he wasn’t the type to stay mad for long. 
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” Jake replied, fingers toying with your favorite Littlest Pet Shop figurine you had kept from when you were eight.
“Why didn’t you want me to look at your baby photos that one time?”
Jake paused at your words. He stood up straight and set the figurine back on the shelf. He glanced at you before walking over to your bed and taking a seat next to you, leaning back on his palms while you rested your hands underneath your thighs. 
“You probably noticed I don’t mention my dad, right? Or the fact that he’s never home?” 
You nodded in response. You had noticed it, but you’d never brought the topic up in case it might be sensitive. Jake sighed. “He passed away when I was six.”
You turned your head towards him. To your surprise, his face remained expressionless - you couldn’t detect any sort of sadness or anger in his features, as if he was just reciting a fact. His uncharacteristic numbness upset you even more than any tears could have. 
He met your gaze and gave you a small smile. “I was so young that I only have very vague memories of him, like playing soccer together in the backyard or a trip to the beach with my parents and my brother. I only remember his face and his voice from the photos and videos my mom has shown me.” He sighed again, shifting forwards and resting his hands in his lap, fiddling with his fingers. “So when I see these pictures, they sort of just remind me of what I’ve lost? I really don’t like lingering on them. I sort of just ignore them every time I walk up or down the stairs.”
“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have mentioned them if I’d known-”
Jake is quick to shake his head. “No, no, don’t be sorry. You couldn’t have guessed.” You want to comfort Jake in some way, thank him for telling you something so personal, but you’re not sure what words to use - so, instead, you take one of his hands in yours and bring it to your lap, then cover it with your other one. Your eyes meet for a second - he looks slightly taken aback at first, but then, his eyes drift down to your joined hands, and a small blush spreads on his cheeks.
“I’m- I’m okay, really. Like I said, it happened so long ago that I’m used to not having a dad now. It almost feels like it’s always been that way, which makes it even weirder to think it wasn’t. It’s just… It feels weird to miss someone I barely remember so much, you know?”
You nodded and let out a low hum. “I do know.” Jake tilted his head at you, silently asking you to go on. “It’s different, but I get that feeling of missing something you barely remember. I have these blurry memories of my parents being happy together and the three of us being a happy family, and then all of a sudden it’s hearing arguments from my room and my dad moving out, and they’re asking me, Do you wanna live with mom or dad?”
You watched as Jake moved his hand slightly, intertwining your fingers together and squeezing your hand. “I was older than you were when they divorced, so I guess I have more memories to hold onto, but they hurt more than anything.” You let out a deep sigh. “My dad cheated, so it’s not like I wished my mom had stayed with him, but I was too young to understand what was happening. I just wanted my parents together again.” 
When you lifted your head to look at him, he met your gaze, and his eyes were so soft yet so intense, like he was seeing right into you. Then he chuckled. “Do you ever get jealous of other people’s parents?” he asks, a shy smile playing on his lips.
“All the time,” you admitted with a chuckle, relieved to find out you weren’t the only one. “Yena has been blessed with these like, practically perfect parents that are still in love after twenty years, never argue and have a healthy relationship with all of their kids. I’m so in awe every time I see them.”
“Sunghoon’s parents are like that. I feel terrible, but every time they come to cheer him on at his competitions, I just get so jealous, wishing I also had three people coming to see my games and not just two. And I always feel so silly for feeling that way.”
“You’re not silly for that, Jake,” you said, and the honesty in your voice seemed to take him aback slightly. A grin spread on your lips. “You may be silly for other things, but not for that,” you teased, making him chuckle. “I can be your third person, if you want,” you said softly, lightly bumping your shoulder against his.
His eyes seemed to light up at your words, and your smile couldn’t help but get wider at his reaction - that was, until he raised an eyebrow, almost defiantly. “Yeah? I thought you found soccer boring,” he said with a playful smirk.
“It’s not boring if you’re the one playing,” you replied. A small noise of surprise escaped his throat before he could help it, not expecting you to be so forward, and you both burst into giggles. 
He cleared his throat when you both calmed down and stood up straighter, trying to put on a cool front. “Of course it isn’t.” He turned his head to look out the window, and the sight of the sunlight perfectly hitting his features and turning his dark brown eyes a hazel color almost took your breath away. “It’s really nice out,” he suddenly said. He turned back to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “How about we ditch the tutoring for today and go out?”
His eyes drifted down to your lips, watching as a smile tugged at the corners of your own. “I’m in.”
That was how you found yourselves sitting at a bench in the park close to your house, eating ice cream and watching Kiwi and Layla play together. You tried each other’s ice cream, and you regretted your choice of simple vanilla and strawberry as soon as Jake’s mango ice cream touched your tongue. Your eyes widened at the amazing taste - it felt like you had bit into an actual mango. 
“Good, right?” Jake asked, chuckling at your reaction.
“What the heck, yours is so much better than mine,” you mumbled, pouting at the ice cream in your cup like it had personally hurt you.
Jake thought for a second, looking back and forth between your upset expression and his own cup. “Wanna switch?”
Your heart was screaming yes, but your brain was screaming no. You tried your best to appear genuine when you smiled at him. “No, don’t worry about it. I still like mine.” You looked at him as you scooped another spoonful into your mouth as if to prove to him you were happy with your choice, even going so far as to hum in delight.
Jake just chuckled and shook his head at you, taking your cup and giving you his anyway. You were about to protest until he started eating your ice cream, imitating your previous hum. You quietly accepted the exchange, smiling as you tasted the mango ice cream again and trying to ignore the fact that Jake hadn’t switched the spoons with the cups, so you were using his and he was using yours. 
As you ate in silence, occasionally chuckling at your dogs’ antics, Jake stole some glances at you. He wasn’t sure why you looked so much prettier today than all the times he’d seen you before. Or maybe you were just as pretty as you’d always been, and he was just finally letting himself admit it. 
He may have had many friends, but there weren’t many people Jake was truly himself around. He always felt the need to be this friendly, outgoing guy that made it seem like everything was going well in his life, but with you, he felt like it was okay to stop pretending. He felt like it was okay to ask for help, like it was okay to reveal the darker parts of his life.
Now that Jay and Sunghoon had practically forced him to see the truth, Jake didn’t know what to do about his feelings for you. He finally understood why he always looked forward to your tutoring sessions, why he was so excited whenever he walked past you in the hallways, and why he was so bothered about you and Sunghoon getting along.
Sunghoon. Because even if Jake now knew that he liked you, he also knew that you liked someone else. And what was the point of letting himself fall for you even more when there was no happy ending in sight for him? He’d only get hurt in the end.
Just as the thought hit him, you turned to look at him and meet his gaze, a soft smile on your lips. Every time you smiled at him like that, Jake felt like he was watching a movie. Everything happened in slow-motion, with flowers falling around you and violins playing in the background. Jake almost felt sick, knowing he was only the second lead in your romance movie. He was the stupid werewolf and Sunghoon was the vampire that glistened in the sun and got the girl. (You had convinced him to watch Twilight, saying it was a mandatory watch to understand who you were as a person. Of course, Jake had streamed it that same night. The soundtrack was surprisingly good.)
Your voice snapped him out of his downward-spiraling thoughts. “You know, I almost got scared that Sunghoon would appear out of thin air and start hanging out with us.”
Jake tried not to sneer at the mention of his best-friend-turned-number-one-nemesis. “Why? Wouldn’t you like that?” he mumbled, clearly doing a poor job of seeming unaffected.
You frowned, then lowered your head, focusing your gaze on your almost-finished ice cream. “No, I’d rather if it was just the two of us.” Jake’s eyes widened, unsure if he’d heard that correctly or not. But before he could say anything in response, you spoke again. “It’s just, he was there when I came to watch your practice and when I thought we were all going to see a movie together, it was just him and me. You would’ve liked that movie, by the way,” you said, looking up at Jake with a smile.
Jake’s heart swelled. He wasn’t sure what what you were saying all meant, but unconsciously, his lips mirrored yours and he smiled back at you. Until he remembered you didn’t like him, and his smile fell immediately. Obviously, you had no idea what he was thinking, so his sudden stony expression sent alarms ringing through your head.
“It’s not that I don’t like him, or anything,” you said, panicked, and Jake had to keep himself from scoffing, “it’s just that- you know. It’s nice to hang out with you outside of tutoring sessions,” you finished, mumbling. 
Jake had no idea what you were saying, so he stayed quiet, watching as Kiwi and Layla ran around in circles. You liked Sunghoon, so why would you rather hang out with Jake and not him? You weren’t making any sense. 
You, on the other hand, were not liking Jake’s uncharacteristic silence. In hopes of getting his attention, you crossed one leg over the other, shifting on the bench to face him. “Plus, don’t you think he and Chaewon really hit it off the other night? I think that was the most I’ve ever heard him talk,” you said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. To your dismay, it didn’t work. You didn’t know whether he was sulking or genuinely upset - all you knew was you desperately wanted to see a smile on his pretty face again.
“Jakey?” you called out, and your voice sounded so small it hurt his heart. He hummed in response, only glancing at you for a fraction of a second. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” he replied, scooping the last of the ice cream in his mouth. As he tasted the strawberry and vanilla flavors, he couldn’t believe he had given his precious mango ice cream up all for a girl who didn’t even like him back. What a fool.
“I don’t know, you’re all- weird, all of a sudden, for lack of a better word.” You searched for some sort of an answer in his eyes, but he supplied you with none. 
Jake sighed deeply. He could feel the ugly mix of emotions in his belly turning into anger - anger at what exactly, he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to lay it on you. “It’s just the heat, it’s making me tired,” he said. Sure, it was warm for a May afternoon, but it wasn’t that hot. But you didn’t want to push it.
“Should we go home?“ you offered, and the worry in your voice made him feel even worse. He just couldn’t understand why you were being so nice to him. He knew you probably just thought you were looking after a friend, but he'd rather you not care about his well-being and leave him be. He didn’t need one more reason to like you - he already had plenty of those. 
He nodded, mustering as convincing a smile as he could. “Sure.” 
The walk home was much quieter than usual. You could feel that Jake was keeping something to himself, and it was killing you; but whatever it was, you wanted him to tell you when he felt ready and not feel forced to. Your hand was aching, desperate to reach out and grab his as you had done before, but you were afraid that would only push him away even further. So you stayed silent most of the time, only commenting on the things around you or speaking a thought out loud when you thought it might make Jake smile. Every time his lips curled up, even ever so slightly, your heart swelled with relief.
Unbeknownst to you, Jake was making up his mind. He knew he needed time away from you to gather his feelings before he could see you as a friend again. 
When you reached your house, Jake waited outside with the dogs as you grabbed his bag he’d left upstairs. You hugged goodbye as always, but this one was different - it lasted a few seconds longer than usual, and you could swear Jake held you tighter than he normally would. It felt like he was saying goodbye for more than just a couple days.
You didn’t understand why it made your heart ache so much.
The next day, when you walked past Jake and Sunghoon in the hallway, Jake barely glanced at you and only tilted his head in your general direction instead of his usual wide grin and wave. You were so shocked by his sudden snubbing that you halted in your steps right away, looking behind you at his retreating figure. You locked eyes with Sunghoon, who seemed just as confused as you felt. He shrugged at you before returning to his friend and nudging his arm.
On Wednesday morning, you got a text from Jake that he couldn’t make it to your tutoring session that afternoon because of an extra soccer practice to prepare for their game that weekend, something he had never mentioned before.
Thursday and Friday weren’t very different, and your heart became heavier with every time you walked past each other and he acted like you weren’t even there. You desperately wanted to know what you’d done wrong, why he’d started to reply in one-word sentences instead of his usual voice messages and tons of emojis, but no matter how much you cogitated, you couldn’t figure it out. Even when you asked him how his game had gone, a dry Good stared back at you from your phone screen.
That Saturday, your girlfriends came over. Yena had brought beads and strings to make accessories out of, and the mere sight of them had brought fond memories back to all four of you - during your first sleepover in freshman year, this was the exact activity that had kept you occupied for hours. 
You got started on them immediately, each finding a comfortable spot in your room as soft music played in the background. You lay on your bed while Chaewon and Yena took over the floor and Hyewon sat at your desk.
“I’m gonna make one of those phone accessories,” Yena said excitedly, reaching for the biggest, most colorful beads.
“I’m gonna make couple bracelets for Jaemin and I,” Hyewon said somewhat shyly but beaming. Yena and Chaewon groaned at her words, but they gave you an idea.
“You guys are vomit-inducing,” Yena replied, and if you didn’t know your friend any better, just going off the tone of her voice, you’d have thought she was being serious. Hyewon just rolled her eyes, used to this daily slander she received simply for being in a relationship.
“I’ll make something for my little sister,” Chaewon butted in, and you and Yena simultaneously ‘aww’ed. 
“So it’s aww when Chaewon does it for her sister, and it’s vomit-inducing when I do it for my boyfriend?” Hyewon exclaimed, appalled.
“Little sisters are cute. Boyfriends are gross,” Yena replied matter-of-factly, making you giggle.
“Whatever. You guys are just jealous that you’re dying alone and I’m not. What are you making, Y/N?” she asked before Yena could retort again. The two exchanged a glare as you thought over your answer.
“I’m not saying,” you replied with a giggle. 
“She’s making one for Jake, that evil wench,” Chaewon immediately said, making your eyes widen. Yena gasped dramatically while Hyewon smiled at you.
“How did you know?” you asked Chaewon.
“Just your face. You’re so obvious,” she snickered. 
“You’re a traitor, Y/N!” Yena exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at you, and you hid your face in your hands, muttering an apology. “Wasting time and energy on a boy.”
“Don’t listen to her, Y/N. Whatever it is you make, he’ll be super happy you thought of him. Then he’ll finally ask you out and you’ll live happily ever after, just like me and Jaemin,” Hyewon said with a serene smile on her face. Chaewon and Yena exchanged a look, then faked a gagging sound. “So bitter,” Hyewon muttered, shaking her head at your friends.
“I’m not sure about that,” you sighed. “I just want to be friends again. He’s been ignoring me all week.”
All three snapped their heads up at you. “He’s been ignoring you?” Yena echoed, and you meekly nodded. “Give me his phone number. No, give me his address. I’m going there right now,” she said, already sitting up.
“Gosh, Yena, it’s fine,” you said, gesturing at her to sit back down, laughing at your friend’s seriousness. “I’ll see him on Monday anyway, I can just see how he behaves then.”
Yena didn’t look convinced, but she yielded anyway. “If he hurts you, I swear I’ll give him a stern talking to. And a broken nose.” You laughed as you thanked your friend. 
Hyewon asked for more details about this Jake situation, so you filled your friends in about his mysterious behavior that week. Chaewon had been the only one to see it firsthand, when you’d walked to a class together and Jake had walked past you without saying anything. You told them about his sparse answers to your texts, his lack of response to the TikToks you sent him. He wasn’t even reacting to your BeReals anymore. It was just such a complete switch-up in attitude that you had no idea what to make of it. They tried to come up with reasons for it, but it really didn’t make much sense. It just felt like he suddenly decided to hate you - or maybe you had been interpreting everything wrong, and the two of you had never been friends in the first place. 
“This is so confusing,” Chaewon suddenly said, seeming lost in thought. “I thought for sure that he liked you.”
“Liked… me?” you echoed.
“Yeah. Just the way he was when we were at the diner. He kept looking at you and was always smiling and blushing whenever you talked to him. Also the way Jay and Sunghoon were behaving. Boys are so obvious when their friend likes someone, it’s like they’re trying to fumble it for him. And I mean, anyone with functioning eyes can see that you like him too, so I don’t know why he’s doing this all of a sudden.”
Yena sighed. “Boys are stupid.”
“That, they are,” you agreed, sighing as well and returning your attention to your craft. Maybe a simple gift like this wouldn’t fix what was going on between you and Jake, but you had to at least try. You couldn’t let go of your friendship so easily.
Even though it seemed as though he could.
Nothing changed the next week. On Monday, you woke up to a text that pulled your heart down into your stomach.
jakey-poo i think we should stop tutoring each other for now
For an hour as you ate breakfast and got ready for school, you ruminated over your answer, only to ask him a simple why? in the end.
jakey-poo i’m to busy w soccer practice and other stuff we can start again when exams are near
you oh okay
You felt pathetic, but you had no idea what to say. You couldn’t force him into this, and you definitely couldn’t show up at his house and demand a better explanation. If you were Yena or Chaewon, maybe you could - but you weren’t. You couldn’t even bring yourself to ask him if the two of you could still hang out outside of that, so scared you were for his inevitable rejection.
During the week, you tried to find a time when you could give him your small handmade gift, but Jake wasn’t even looking you in the eyes anymore. The only time you made eye contact with him over those five days was on Wednesday at lunch - as you walked into the cafeteria, you scanned the whole room, unconsciously searching for him. When you did, he was already looking at you - he was close enough for you to see the slight frown in his eyebrows, the lack of the usual glint in his eyes. But as soon as he’d seen you’d found him, he turned away. You only looked away when Chaewon called out your name.
In the few classes you had together, he always slipped away before you could get to him. Him walking past you like he couldn’t even see you broke your heart a little bit more every time, and by Friday, you had completely given up. Your friendship with Jake was over, and you had no idea why, no idea who or what to blame.
Monday and Wednesday afternoons felt empty now that you had gotten used to spending them with him, and you couldn’t even walk Kiwi without missing him. He seemed to miss Jake and Layla too - he’d sometimes tilt his head at you as if asking where your new friends were, and when you got to the park, he’d gloomily stick to you instead of running around like he usually would, especially when Layla was there.
The worst part was at night, when your thoughts kept you up. You’d reread your and Jake’s text conversations, wondering what went so wrong so quickly, warm tears spilling from your eyes out of sadness and tiredness. On those nights, you’d sneak Kiwi up to your room and let him cuddle up to you in your bed. You’d comfort each other that way.
You had no idea that a couple kilometers away, Jake lay in bed sleepless as well, Layla at the edge of his bed and whining in her sleep. You had no idea that missing you had carved a deep hole in his chest.
Enough was enough.
It had been days since Layla had last seen Kiwi, and to a young pup like her, that felt like eternity. Lately, Jake hadn’t seemed happy to go on walks with her like he used to, and he barely had any energy to play with her. She also hadn’t seen you in days, and she wondered if that had anything to do with Jake’s recent despondency. 
But thankfully, Layla was a smart girl, so she knew exactly what to do to fix this dire situation. On Friday, she waited for Jake to come back from soccer practice and take her on a walk. As soon as they reached the sidewalk outside of their house, she pulled on her leash in the opposite direction of their usual route. Jake tried pulling her the other way, but she wouldn’t budge.
“We’re going that way, Layla,” Jake said, amused by his dog’s sudden stubbornness. Layla barked back. “Come on!” 
She was really not moving. “We never go that way,” Jake said, sighing. “That way’s the-”
That’s when he realized. Layla wanted to go to the park you went to with Kiwi. “But what if we ran into them?” Jake asked. 
Layla barked again. She wanted to say, That’s exactly why I want to go there, but of course Jake didn’t understand. He sighed again and obliged, letting Layla lead the way. She had a good feeling that she’d finally see her friends again today. 
Jake’s heart started beating faster with every step he took, knowing that you might be out right now, too. When he’d seen you at school, you’d seemed as sad as he was, and he felt terrible for perhaps being the reason behind it - but he didn’t know what else to do. He could either spare your feelings or his. If this was hurting you, he knew you’d move on quickly enough anyway - and when he came to terms with being just friends with you, he’d come back, and everything would be perfect like it used to be. Foolproof plan.
If there was one thing Jake had learned from the tutoring sessions with you, it was that the weather always reflected the protagonist’s inner thoughts. If they were upset, it would be gray and rainy - if they were happy, it would be warm and sunny. Jake glared at the sun, just another reminder that he wasn’t the main character in this story. If he was, it would be thundering and lightning would be striking.
As if his life was a joke, two minutes after Jake and Layla had walked into the park, he saw you. At least you were facing the other direction, so you couldn’t see him, and he could redirect his route to avoid you. But he let himself indulge in the moment for a few seconds. You had laid out a picnic blanket for you and Kiwi and rested on your stomach with your elbows propping you up, reading a book. Kiwi slept peacefully next to you - this dog was the furthest thing from a guard dog Jake had ever seen. You kicked your feet up in the air, flip flops discarded to the side of the blanket. Jake was happy to see you like this, enjoying the warmth of this sunny May afternoon. 
He was about to walk away, but a sudden movement caught his eye. Two school kids started running to you, and before you could even register their presence, one of them snatched your flip flops and they both sprinted away, shrieking with laughter like two little devils. Where the hell were their parents?!
Without thinking, Jake started running after them, and so did Kiwi and Layla. 
“Hey! Come back here!” Jake yelled, hoping in vain that these kids would listen to someone older than them. Kiwi did his best, but his tiny legs didn’t allow for such a chase - Layla, barking loudly at the thieves, was the first to reach them, and she managed to scare them so much, they tripped over their feet. But unlike them, she was well-behaved, so she sat once her job was done and waited for Jake to arrive. 
“What are you two doing? You can’t just steal other people’s things!” he admonished, holding onto his knees as he tried to catch his breath.
Both kids were already teary-eyed. “We just wanted to play a prank, we’re sorry!” one of them quickly said, voice shaky.
“It’s not to me you should apologize, but to her,” Jake said, turning around to point in your direction. That’s when he noticed you sitting on your knees, hands covering your face as your shoulders trembled. “You made her cry!” Jake exclaimed, tone much angrier than seconds prior. “Let’s go,” he said, grabbing the kids by their shoulders and forcing them to keep up with his quick steps.
You didn’t notice their presence in front of you until Jake prompted them. At the sound of the all too familiar voice, you whipped your head up. Jake swore he heard his heart breaking when he saw your red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. You barely heard the kids’ apology, so amazed you were at suddenly seeing Jake.
“We’re sorry for stealing your flip-flops and making you cry,” the first one said.
“Sorry,” repeated the other one, handing you your shoes.
“Oh, right. Thanks, just don’t do it again,” you replied, sniffing as you took back your shoes.
“We won’t!” they replied in unison before running away once more.
Jake stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, unsure what to say. He watched you stare at your flip flops like you’d never seen them before in your life. “You’re not going to thank me for catching those delinquents?” he asked after a small while, chuckling slightly.
This made you look up at him. He gulped as your eyes met. Then, you burst into sobs again, and Jake started panicking. He crouched down to your level, first holding you by the shoulders then forcing your head out of your hands so he could wipe away your tears with the pads of his thumbs.
“No no no, why are you crying, Y/N?” he asked softly, pulling you into a hug.
You continued crying into his shoulder, ignoring Kiwi and Layla’s confused stares. “You- you- I haven’t seen you in ages!” you exclaimed.
Jake sighed. He didn’t understand why you were crying like this for him, all he knew was that he’d never felt so awful. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered into your hair, pulling your shaking body closer to him. “I’m sorry.”
You leaned back to glare at Jake, your bottom lip jutting out in discontent. “Do you even know how much I missed you?”
Jake held your head in his hands like it was the most precious thing in the world. Mouth agape in surprise, he looked at you with sad eyes. “You… you did?”
Your eyebrows creased. “Of course I did!” Another sob rippled through your body, and Jake took you back in his arms, wrapping them around your shoulders and resting his cheek against your hair. 
“I missed you too.”
“Then why did you do this?” you asked, voice breaking.
“Because I didn’t want to get hurt,” Jake whispered back. “But I didn’t think I’d hurt you. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”
You leaned back again, but this time, you looked confused rather than angry. His eyes were soft as they scanned your face and as he brushed strands of your hair back behind your ears. “Why would you get hurt?” you asked again, bringing your voice to the same volume as his.
Jake sighed and squeezed his eyes shut for a second, as if in pain, before opening them again and boring them into yours. “I like you so, so much Y/N. So much so that I don’t know what to do with myself. But I know that you don’t feel the same way, and I was scared that by staying by your side, I’d just fall in love with you even more and get hurt in the end. So I pushed you away because I didn’t know what else to do, but I’m so sorry I- You’re crying again?”
Your fists grabbed at the front of Jake’s t-shirt as sobs raked through your body once more. It was official - Jake was the stupidest person you’d ever met. And you were in love with him.
“Why are you crying?”
“Because I like you too, you idiot!” you yelled back. Your tears were probably staining his t-shirt, but you couldn’t care less. He liked you. Jake liked you.
You were too busy crying to see Jake’s eyes slowly widening in disbelief. “You what?!”
Gently, Jake pushed your shoulders back so he could look at you. Even with puffy eyes and a runny nose, you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. Pretty like an angel that had graced the Earth with her presence. “You what?” he repeated, just to hear you say it again.
“I like you, Jake. I’m so in love with you it's actually pathetic,” you said with a chuckle, looking down out of shyness. But when you looked back up, Jake’s eyes were going back and forth between yours, the expression on his face like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard but desperately hoped it was true.
As you locked eyes, both of your faces lit up with grins. You burst into laughter together, finding each other’s hands and intertwining your fingers together. Then Jake brought you back into his arms, holding tightly, as if he was scared you might disappear any second. Kiwi and Layla had long walked away to give the two of you some needed privacy.
In each other’s arms, you rocked side to side gently and laughed for no reason other than the incredible fact your feelings were reciprocated. “You stink, you know,” you suddenly said in-between giggles. “You sweat while you ran after those kids.”
“I sweat? You mean I swote, right?” Jake asked a pause.
You leaned back to look at Jake. “Swote?” you echoed, and he nodded. Your umpteenth smile made your cheeks lift. “You have to be kidding-”
“I am,” Jake cut off, mirroring your smile. “I just wanted to make you laugh.”
You gasped and lightly punched his chest before letting your body fall against his again. “You’re so silly,” you said, sighing in bliss at the sound of his giggles.
Then all of a sudden, Jake pulled away and looked at you, almost frightened. “What about Sunghoon?” 
“What about him?” you asked back, confused by Jake’s question.
“I thought you- Didn’t you- you know…”
You tilted your head at Jake, a small grin spreading on your lips again. “I don’t know.”
“I thought you liked him…” Jake mumbled, looking away with a pout.
Before you could stop it, a noise of confusion left your throat. You looked at Jake like he was insane. “I can barely have a conversation with Sunghoon, what made you think I liked him?”
Jake pursed his lips and let a resigned puff of air out of his nose. “I, um- Remember when we mixed our backpacks up?” he asked and you nodded, smiling at the fun memory. “I may have, um, I may have read… your… diary,” he admitted, voice getting quieter with each word. He dared a glance at you - you looked horrified, eyes wide and mouth agape. “And you wrote that you liked Sunghoon,” he finished with a whisper.
It was silent for a few seconds, and Jake was bracing himself for a slap to the face or your screams, until you did the last thing Jake expected you to do - you laughed. You laughed so hard and for so long that he got scared you had gone insane and this was the first part of your mental breakdown before you murdered him in cold blood for having invaded your privacy. He would’ve deserved it, he thought.
“I don’t- oh my God, Jake, I don’t- I don’t like Sunghoon. I never really have, or not in the way you think, I can’t- oh my God,” you explained in between giggles, trying to catch your breath but starting to laugh again every time you managed to compose yourself. Jake tried to laugh along, but he was too confused to do so properly.
“You’re not mad?” Jake asked, eyebrows furrowed with worry.
“No,” you replied, shaking your head and the last giggles out of your throat. “You read it ages ago, and we didn’t even know each other back then, there’s no point in being mad now. It’s just funny - I know exactly why you think I liked Sunghoon, but I didn’t. Not really. And even if I did, those feelings are nothing compared to the ones I have for you now,” you said, beaming. A blush spread on Jake’s cheeks, and you could tell he was trying (and failing) to contain a proud grin.
You explained to Jake the ‘character’ thing you and your friends had going on and that Sunghoon (and hat guy) just happened to be one of them - you watched as Jake narrowed his eyes and slowly nodded, trying to understand this concept that was so foreign to him. 
“You know, it all makes a lot more sense now,” Jake said when you were explaining. “It would’ve been weird for you to like Sunghoon when I was right there.” He smirked down at you as you playfully rolled your eyes. 
“Oh my God!” you suddenly exclaimed, startling Jake in the process. Dramatic as always, he put a hand over his heart and exhaled loudly. “I have something for you. For us, actually.” You reached into your bag and got out the two accessories you’d made for you and Jake. “These are for us to put on our backpacks, so that we don’t confuse them again. They also match.”
Jake’s eyes were fixated on the string of beads as you placed into his palm. “I tried to give it to you over the week, but…” 
A teardrop fell into Jake’s palms, and when you looked at him, you realized he’d started crying. “Jake?” you cooed softly, and he sniffled, wiping away the tears from his eyes.
As a response, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and buried his face in your hair. “Thank you. And I’m sorry. I promise you’ll never go a second without my undivided attention from now on,” he said, voice shaking with emotion, and you hummed happily.
“I wouldn’t expect anything else.”
He leaned back, and you were relieved to find the familiar puppyish grin on his lips. You gazed into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, and before he could stop himself, he grabbed your head in his hands and pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead. You raised your eyebrows in surprise, but when his face was back in front of yours, your eyes immediately drifted to his lips. They looked soft and plump and pink, and were utterly inviting. Every time you’d started daydreaming about kissing Jake, you’d stopped yourself, not wanting to over-indulge in your fantasies. But was this finally, really happening?
“Y/N?” Jake said quietly. You could swear his face was getting closer.
“Hm?”
“Will you be my girlfriend?”
Your face broke out into a grin. Without warning, you pressed your lips against Jake’s - initially just for a peck, but as soon as you started pulling away, Jake chased after your lips and trapped them into a kiss, a proper one this time. You’d never done this before, so it was naturally somewhat clumsy, but you and Jake were so giddy with excitement that you couldn’t care less. So what if you were smiling so hard, your teeth clashed against his, or you kept bumping noses? You were kissing Jake Sim. 
The second time around, he let you pull away to catch your breath, and you wished you could photograph the sight in front of you - Jake with flushed cheeks, closed eyes and a serene smile on his face. He was so pretty, and now, he was all yours.
When he opens his eyes and finds you looking at him, his smile widens. “I’ll take that as a yes?”
“Yes,” you echoed, laughing. You pressed your lips to his cheek before burying your face in the crook of his neck.
He hugged you to him and the sweet sound of his giggles filled your ears and your heart. “My girl,” he whispered, before leaning his head back, face to the sky, and screaming it loud enough for the whole park to hear. You tried to shush him, but you couldn’t stop laughing yourself out of sheer excitement. Layla and Kiwi came running back to you, barking happily and trying to lick your faces. 
“I cried so much today, my eyes are gonna be puffy tomorrow morning,” you said between giggles. 
Jake pressed his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. “I’ll make sure you never cry again, Y/N,” he said, and he sounded so genuine, you almost wanted to cry again right then and there.
The rest of the afternoon went by in a blur - while you and Jake kissed, laughed, talked, and hugged, hours that felt like minutes passed you by. Jake kept on looking at the accessory you made him, poking fun at you for knowing his favorite color even though he’d never mentioned it.
“It was a lucky guess,” you grumbled. “Your room’s walls are that color,” you said, pointing to a particular dark blue bead.
“I love it,” he replied with a kiss to your forehead.
As always, he walks you home - and this time, you can take his hand without any hesitation. Your mom had come home from work while you and Jake were out, and you found her in the kitchen, prepping some veggies for dinner. 
As soon as Jake introduced himself, a flash of revelation struck her and she shot you a knowing smirk. “So you’re Jake,” she said, and the boy glanced at you with amused confusion. “That one over there has been badgering me about you these past few weeks.”
Apparently, you agreeing to be his girlfriend had already gone to his head, because instead of looking surprised at your mom’s words, he slowly turned to you with an arrogant smirk gracing his lips. “Has she?”
Your mom nodded slowly. “Oh, yes.” Then her expression slowly morphed into something else as she remembered your red, puffy eyes from the other evening when you’d told her about what was going on with Jake. She raised her kitchen knife and pointed it straight to him, eyes narrowed. “If you ever hurt my daughter again, I’m putting you in the lasagna, young man.”
Jake gulped, smirk completely wiped off of his face. You just watched in amusement. “I- I won’t,” he stuttered, eyes fixed on the blade of the knife.
A wide grin reappeared on your mom’s face as she went back to cutting the vegetables. “Good!” 
Jake looked at you for some sort of explanation, but you simply shrugged. He’d just have to get used to your mom’s crazy. 
“You know, you’re just as handsome as she described,” your mom told Jake with a wink.
“Mom, please!” you exclaimed, cheeks burning with heat. You liked it better when she was threatening your boyfriend with a knife, but he was relieved by the new turn this conversation had taken.
“What else has she said?”
“Oh, you know, just your typical he’s so smart, he’s so cute, he’s so funny-”
“Okay, that’s it!” you cut in before your mom could spill more on you. You ignored Jake’s noises of complaint as you grabbed him by the shoulders and led him towards the door. “I think it’s time for you to go home, no?” 
“Y/N, come on!” Jake whined, giggling. 
“Why don’t you stay for dinner, Jake?” your mom offered, making you stop in your tracks. You stared wide-eyed at her but she just looked at Jake, wearing an inviting smile.
“Sure!” Jake beamed. “I just need to call my mom.”
“Oh, invite her along! I always make enough to feed an army, anyway.”
“Really?” Jake asked, incredulous. Since his brother had left for university, it had always been just he and his mom at the dinner table. The thought of sharing a meal with you and your mom filled his heart with warmth. 
“Yeah!”
Jake smiled giddily as he got his phone out. “Thanks, she’ll be stoked.”
Although you both wanted to help your mom, she urged you to stay outside with the dogs and enjoy the last rays of sunshine of the day, insisting she didn’t need any help. So you and Jake spent some time throwing sticks for Kiwi and Layla and giggling at their cuteness. Kiwi quickly got exhausted and came to lie down at your feet, but Layla was tireless. “Your dog, your responsibility,” you said as you sat down next to Kiwi, rubbing his tummy and watching Jake throw the stick over and over again for Layla.
Jake was as relentless as Layla, and every time she ran after the stick, he ran to you and pressed a kiss to another part of your face, making you giggle every time. Once on your forehead, once on your nose, once on your cheek, then the other, and once on your lips.
Then his mom rang the bell, and as your mom opened the door for her, the oddest thing happened - they called out each other’s name and hugged as if they were old friends. You and Jake exchanged a confused look before turning your attention back to them.
“What a coincidence!”
“Right! Such a small world, I can’t believe you’re my daughter’s boyfriend’s mom.”
“Boyfriend? Gosh, has he finally asked her out? I was going crazy seeing him moping around in his room!”
“Mom!” Jake yelled, face already reddening as you burst into laughter.
You joined them inside the house and set the table while your mom finished up dinner. Jake’s mom had brought a bottle of red wine as a gift, so she poured two glasses for her and your mom, but you and Jake stuck to Sprite. 
Apparently, they knew each other from some yoga class they both went to every Sunday - you found out this was the woman your mom often went out for lunch or drinks with. They were so excited to meet each other like this that they talked most of the time, leaving you and Jake to eat your food quietly and giggling every time you made eye contact or your feet touched under the table. 
Just as you were about to take your last bite of lasagna, your phone pinged with a message. Curiously, so did Jake’s. Chaewon had sent a message into the group chat, asking to meet her at work when her shift was done because she was craving an Oreo milkshake.
chae bae y/n u better come ik ur not doing anything better tonight anyway
You scoffed. You were doing something better.
“Shit, today’s Friday! The boys are waiting for me at the diner, I completely forgot,” Jake exclaimed as he read the messages on his phone.
“Language, Jake,” his mom scolded.
“At the diner?” you repeated.
“Yeah, that one we went to last time. Why?” Jake asked when he noticed your surprised expression.
“That’s where Chaewon wants to meet.”
You both turned to your respective moms, silently asking for permission to leave the dinner table.
“Just go,” your mother said with a smile.
“I’ll take Layla home later,” Jake’s mom added.
You thanked them before rushing to get a bag and heading to the bus stop, hoping a bus would come by soon. Twenty minutes later, you were opening the doors of the diner and looking around for your friends, who were nowhere to be found. You were fishing your phone out of your pocket to call Chaewon when a familiar voice caught your and Jake’s attention.
“What are they doing together?” you heard Jay say, followed by loud shushes. You turned your head to find all five of your friends (plus Jaemin) crammed in a booth in the corner that was somewhat hidden from the rest of the restaurant. But they were trying so hard to be discreet that it made their presence even more obvious - they hid their faces with their hands as if that would make them disappear from your view. You and Jake shared a look before chuckling, shaking your head at your friends.
“Whatever, they’ve clearly found us,” Jay sighed and exited the booth, walking towards the two of you.
“Were you guys trying to get us to make up or something?” Jake asked with an amused smile.
“Yeah, we grouped up and planned this whole thing. It was a real team effort.”
“It might’ve worked better if you hadn’t all stayed here, you guys were so obvious,” you chided.
“Tell that to your friends over there! They insisted on watching it unfold,” Jay grumbled, and you looked behind him to see your friends frantically waving at you.
You switched to a bigger booth that could accommodate all seven of you, and as soon as you’d placed your orders, Yena practically pounced on you, demanding an explanation as to how the two of you were already made up.
You turned to look at Jake and smiled at him before answering. “It’s all thanks to Kiwi, really,” you told Yena.
“Kiwi? As in your dog Kiwi?” Chaewon asked with furrowed eyebrows.
“Mh-hm.” In your peripheral, you noticed Jake tilting his head at you.
“You mean Layla, right?”
You imitated his head movement. “No, I mean Kiwi.”
“But Layla made me go to the park today. I wouldn’t have gone there if it wasn’t for her,” Jake insisted, giving you an are you being serious look that you mirrored.
“I wasn’t going to go outside at all but Kiwi kept bugging me to take him on a walk, that’s why I was in the park in the first place. It’s thanks to Kiwi,” you repeated.
“It’s thanks to Layla,” Jake retorted, playfully narrowing his eyes at you.
“Trouble in paradise,” Jaemin whispered, and Hyewon slapped his arm.
The whole table was silent as you and Jake stared each other down, waiting to see who would cave first. It was like everyone could breathe again when Jake’s face broke out into a grin and he rested his arm behind your shoulders. “Okay, it’s thanks to Kiwi,” he conceded, making you hum in satisfaction. You rested your head on his shoulder and ignored Yena’s groan of disgust at the PDA.
But Jake, as always, wasn’t letting you off the hook so easily. “And Layla.”
02.06.202X - 12:18
rodrigo hater y/n i can see you being gross from across the courtyard can u guys not feed each other ur still on school grounds and ur ruining my day have some decency
sweet hyewon you guys are super cute <3  jaemin and i only have the same lunch period once a week i miss him
rodrigo hater ugh wheres chaewon she’d have my back
you hyewon love u yena frigg off you’re not going to like this… i think she’s with sunghoon rodrigo hater WHAT
sweet hyewon omg hahahaha saw it coming cuuuuute
rodrigo hater i hate you all so much you’re all kicked out of my celibacy club
chae bae we weren’t part of it in the first place
rodrigo hater GO AWAY YOU TRAITOR
03.06.202X - 09:15
you jake wake up  wake up wake up please
jake ??? R U okay?
you kiwi keeps whining i think he wants to see layla come over?
jake . did u just wake me up before 10 am on a sunday morning for this
you i made pancakes?
jake i’m going back to sleep
you but i miss you :(
jake running
07.06.202X - 16:39
stink #1 hey
jake no
stink #1 wtf man
jake im busy
stink #1 smooching ur girl?
jake yeah stay mad bro
stink #1 where’s hoon
stink #2 he’s at ice skating practice with me <3 this is chaewon btw
jake AYO????
stink #1 HE GAVE YOU ACCESS TO HIS PHONE???
stink #2 hehehe bye losers
stink #1 oh my god jake this is huge
jake right… our little boy he’s grown so much
stink #1 i’m getting teary eyed anyway i wanted to say i think we should invite the girls to bro night more often it’s always fun with them
jake oh? if u wanna see yena just say so bro
stink #1 fuck u man
jake ur literally so obvious you get 100% more obnoxious when she’s around
stink #1 idc she laughs at my jokes
jake which is proof that there’s something wrong w her anyway i’ll ask my girl about it
stink #1 ew and thx ^^
09.06.202X - 17:03
jakey-poo y/nnnnnn y/n hellloooooo y/n y/n y/n baby :(((( where are u what r u doing i miss you hello y/n my baby darling angel pls answer me layla misses you
you jake sim
jakey-poo HIIIIII
you jay is a genius i’m anime pomodoroing the hell out of this essay it’s working so well i’m almost done with it already
jakey-poo don’t compliment another man ever again i’m going to cry
you but jay’s your friend
jakey-poo i’ll kill him if i have to
you gosh okay jay’s an idiot
jakey-poo hahaha he is ice cream after dinner ???
you duh
31.07.202X - 21:03
jakey-poo i’m waiting for you outside the theater baby we have a lot of talking to do. i can’t believe you kissed someone else in front of me
you jake baby it was just acting <3 you know you’re the only one i really kiss
jakey-poo i know i am so come here and kiss me quick you did so well and you were so pretty on stage and i love you so much  COME QUICK I WANNA KISS YOU
you i’m hurrying i promise but a lot of people are trying to talk to me :(
jakey-poo ofc they are you killed it my baby’s already famous <3
you hehe love you my jakey-poo
jakey-poo STOP IT WITH THAT
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permanent taglist: @zreamy @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts @moonlighthoon @4imhry @rikisly @loves0ft @iamliacamila @theboingsuckerasseater9000 @chaechae-23 (ask to be removed/added!)
© asahicore on Tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works. feedback and reblogs always appreciated!
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moonstruckme · 1 year ago
Note
Hey! I LOVE the comic you posted of the reader going to a club pre-relationship! I was wondering if you could write a part 2 to that of all of them going to a club together. With some jealousy, like when the reader goes to the bathroom on her way back she is getting flirted with by a random guy and the marauders reaction. Feel free to ignore
(Also I adore you comic that make my day every time I have re-read all of them at least 3 times!)
Hi lovely, thank you so much ! This took me forever to get to sorry, hope you enjoy it <3
part 1
cw: alcohol, unwanted/nonconsensual touch
roommate!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words
Your shriek cuts through the loud music, and you turn to Remus with an open-mouthed grin. 
“This is my favorite song!” you shout. 
He laughs. In the past half hour, four songs have been your favorite. “Yeah?” he asks. 
You nod happily, throwing your hands above your head as you spin. You’re tipsy twirly, surprisingly sprightly considering you’ve downed enough shots to get Remus hammered, and he’s got several inches on you and has been drinking since he was thirteen. 
Sirius is in a similar state. Remus and James have been steering the two of you around for most of the night, but now James has put himself in charge of crisis prevention, playing goalie between either of you and the bar. 
“Oh be fun, Prongsie,” Sirius wheedles after getting spun around by the shoulders for the upteenth time. “I know you can be fun.” 
“I am fun,” James agrees. “I have my most fun when I’m not cleaning up your vomit. Go dance with y/n.” 
You’re game for this plan, giving Sirius an enticing smile and moving your hips to the music in a way that makes Remus’ mouth go completely dry. He knows he’s not the only person in this club who’s noticed, but thankfully the little circle the four of you have made in the dance floor stays clear of intruders. Thus far, your prediction has proved correct; no other men have come up to you with your roommates around. He’s not particularly distraught about it. 
You seem oblivious to your own allure, laughing when Sirius hurries toward you like a called puppy. You take his hands, letting him twirl you around and then holding your arms up to twirl him in return, and at the chorus, you both jump around so that your hair flies all about. Your laughter is loud and sparkling. Remus sips his drink, entranced. 
There are two more favorite songs before you careen towards him, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt. He hastily grips you by the elbow, wary of a fall, but you seem to have done this intentionally. You beam up at him, your smile lopsided and far less shy than anything he’s ever seen from you. 
“M’gonna go to the toilet,” you tell him, one word leading into the next like they’ve been sloppily tied together with string. 
“Oh, okay.” Of its own volition, Remus’ hand coasts up the back of your upper arm, then down to your elbow again. “Do you think you’re gonna be sick, honey?” 
Your face screws up as if this is taboo to mention. “What? No.” You make a funny pffting sound. “I’m miles off from that, I’m fantastic, it’s just,” you lower your voice, expression turning grave, “I think it’s time to break the seal,” you tell him meaningfully. 
This time it’s entirely intentional, but he also can’t help it. You’re just too cute. Remus sets his hand on the top of your head affectionately, grinning at you. “Alright, love, sounds good.” He looks around for the women’s bathroom, locating it a short distance away. “Want one of us to go with and wait outside for you?” It’s not like he can’t see it from here, but a girl as intoxicated as you probably shouldn’t be going anywhere by herself. 
“No, no, I’ve got it,” you say, patting his chest lightly. “Back soon.” 
It’s like you’ve disappeared into a mist, the way you fade into the crowd so quickly. It takes Remus a moment to spot the top of your head moving towards the bathroom. You turn around just before you go in, giving him a dazzling smile paired with a dorky thumbs-up. 
“Where’d she go?” James asks, holding his drink aloft while Sirius grabs for it. “And what has made you smile like that, Moony?” 
Remus makes a dismissive sound, but he feels his face heat as he takes a long sip of his own drink. James’ grin widens. 
“Ooh,” Sirius catches on. “What’d she say to you?” 
“Nothing. She’s gone to the toilet.”
Sirius’ kohl-rimmed eyes bulge, and James laughs, following his train of thought immediately. “Did she ask you to follow her? I didn’t think that was your style, you rake.” 
Remus rolls his eyes. “You’re depraved.” 
It’s not long before you reappear, catching Remus’ eye on your way out of the bathroom like you knew he’d be looking. You give him another of those heart-stuttering smiles and head his way, weaving your way through the crowd with a drunken expertise. 
A happy glow of anticipation starts up in his chest, but you’re intercepted on the way. Another head, taller, steps in front of you, blocking Remus’ view. He cranes his neck, but he can’t see you. 
He must make some sound or simply be emanating discontent, because James is back at his side in an instant. “What’s wrong?” 
“Someone’s talking to her. I can’t see her anymore.” He sounds ridiculous, like an overprotective douche, but he can’t imagine one can be too cautious when a drunk girl is surrounded by guys in a place like this. Remus is being purely practical. 
“Let’s go get her.” James is on board immediately, taking Sirius by the elbow and beginning to bulldoze his way through the crowd. Sirius grabs Remus’ hand just before the gap closes behind them, dragging him along. 
Remus hears you before he sees you. 
“Really, I appreciate it, but I’m not looking for anything.” Your voice sounds slightly tight, and Remus knows you well enough to tell by the sound of it that you’re giving whoever you’re talking to one of your big, fake smiles. 
A man’s voice says, low and sure, “You don’t mean that—” and that’s as far as he gets, because you interrupt to exclaim, with no small amount of relief, “My friends!” 
“Hi, sweetheart,” James says, and you’re right in front of them. You’ve cleaned up your makeup in the bathroom, the eyeliner that had transferred sweatily under your eyes now pristine again, and your smile is indeed giant and thin-lipped as you look between them and the man in front of you, subtly flaring your eyes. He reads the look clearly: Help, please!
Remus looks you over. The man has his hands on your hips and one of yours is around his wrist, a cautious touch. Sirius takes care of that quickly, wrapping his forefinger and thumb around the wrist closest to him and removing it like it’s a piece of trash he found on the street. 
“Do you two know each other?” Remus asks. Without permission, his voice comes out gruff and accusatory. 
“No,” you say speedily, taking a step towards Sirius. Towards them. “I was just on my way back to you guys, actually.” 
“We were talking.” The man looks between the three of them scrutinously, like they’re threats. Remus doesn’t hate the thought of being a threat to this guy. 
“Sounded like you were done talking, mate.” James smiles easily. You’d have to really know him to hear the sharpness in his tone. 
Sirius snakes an arm around your waist, but you don’t shy from the bold touch. In fact, you lean into him, your smile slowly beginning to resemble the genuine article. “Wanna get another drink, baby?” Sirius asks you, gaze salacious. 
“Mhm.” You bob your head eagerly, and he leads you off, James and Remus following. “Thanks for the help,” you tell them as soon as you’re away. “He didn’t, like, do anything, but it was a bit intimidating.” 
“Anytime, sweetheart,” James replies, expression going a bit stormy now that he’s done feigning lightness. “And I wouldn’t say he didn’t do anything, he shouldn’t have put his hands on you like that.” 
“It’s whatever,” you wave it off so easily Remus’ heart gives a little throb. “What’re we drinking?” 
“Oh, that was a ploy,” Remus says. “We’re done drinking, remember?” 
You pout, and Sirius hugs your side sympathetically (entirely for your benefit, Remus is certain). “You mean we’re done,” he sneers. “You and Prongs get to have however much you want. Who made you king of the beer?” 
“I think you did, actually,” Remus says thoughtfully. “At Mary’s New Year’s party, remember?” 
Sirius sniffs, presumably because he does not.
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dearsnow · 6 months ago
Text
TOO SWEET
- you discover that you mix a little too much sugar into your relationship, and jake seems to believe that he’ll turn everything sour. (jake seresin x fem!reader, angst, jake being an asshole when he thinks he’s making the right decision but what’s new, i had a real fun time writing the description ⚠️ drinking)
PART 2
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word count: 785
a/n - angst city is back !! and yes there are parallels bc i’m in a parallel mood so yeah some lines are very very similar to each other. hope you guys enjoy, even though my first hangman-centric fic is a sad one lol. based on “too sweet” by hozier <3
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You press your palm to Jake’s face, feeling his stubble rough against your soft skin. “You’re amazing.”
He has a pool stick in his hand, one that he sets down to pull away from your touch. Your face flushes as he takes your hand in his own and places his pool stick in your other, motioning for you to take a shot. “You’re too sweet, darlin’. Let’s prove to Chicken over here that you can be tough, too.”
“Too sweet” is something he’s called you more than once. You suppose it is true, with your gentle and kind demeanor. You just can’t help wanting everyone to be happy.
Jake Seresin is pretty much the opposite of that. He intentionally upsets people with a smile on his face, content in riling them up, and fond of perpetuating rivalries. No one ever understands why you’re attracted to him, especially not the other daggers.
You see the side of him that he rarely ever shows. The one that’s kind and caring, that understands when he goes too far and reels his aggressive personality back to shore. When he kisses you on the cheek or places his hand on the small of your back, you feel it too.
So, when he pulls you to the side of the Hard Deck, you assume he’s just going to give you another drawling compliment and skirt his hand between your shirt and the soft skin of your waist. You certainly don’t expect the words that come out of his mouth next.
“Hun, I think we need to stop seeing each other.”
Your heart stops dead in its tracks. “What?” You borderline squeak. No, this can’t be happening. Everything was so perfect just moments ago, and now the look on his face makes you want to cry. It’s laden with sympathy.
He holds your hands with gentle fingers. “You’re too sweet, baby. I don’t mean it in a bad way, but I mean, you’re way sweeter than I could ever be. You tell Rooster his shirt looks nice when it’s eye-bleeding and you mean it. I love that, I really do, but we don’t fit. We don’t make sense, and I want my relationships to make sense.”
“We do make sense.” You protest. “Opposites attract or something like that. We can make it work.”
“The thing is, we can’t. I’m gonna piss you off eventually, and you’re gonna forgive me, and it’ll just be toxic. I don’t want that for you.”
He lets go of your hands, and as the cool air hits them, they miss his warmth. His green eyes are tinged with something you could associate with sadness, just a hint of aching regret. His mouth twitches a bit, curling into his sun-kissed freckles. They wouldn’t be noticeable if you hadn’t looked at him so closely, if you hadn’t kissed along that same line a few nights ago. “And what about what I want, Jake? I want you. We can have a good relationship, I promise, we’ll find a way.”
“That’s what makes you so special. Your goddamn unwavering hope. I don’t want to crush that, sweet thing, but you have to know that it isn’t always going to work out.” His tone is softer now, but his words hit like the sharp end of a knife. You stare up at him, eyes watering.
“But-“
“It’s a no, baby. Just no.”
He turns, and for the first time, you don’t follow his movements. Your fists close around empty air.
It’s really happening. He’s explained how he doesn’t want you in a million honey-suckled ways, and more than anything, you just want to sink into his arms and cry. But you can’t, and you don’t. You move away, instead, out of the Hard Deck and out of his life, into the cold night air. When you reach your car, all you can do is sob into the shiny metal.
Jake watches you leave. He wants to run after you, to thread his fingers around yours and pull you into a kiss, but he can’t, and he doesn’t. It’s better for you, he tells himself. You sip on wine and fruity drinks while his neat whiskey is sitting on the bar, half-drunk. You deserve someone nicer, kinder, who kisses you goodbye and doesn’t scratch your face with stubble. He sees you lean against your car, forehead pressed to the car door, and he almost folds. He picks up his drink and turns to face Penny, who’s looking at him disapprovingly.
“I’m not good for her.” He tries to explain.
Penny sighs and reaches for the whiskey, topping off his glass. “You aren’t. I just wish you made it your problem instead of hers.”
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Taglist: @seitmai
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puckinghischier · 6 months ago
Text
Fallen
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Nico Hischier x fem!reader
summary: part 2 to falling
notes: hello!!! considering it’s after midnight, i’m giving you guys a gift for my birthday. this was very fun to write and i continue to just make myself sad that i don’t have a nico in my life. i hope you enjoy! happy reading! 🫶🏼
this is unedited!!
request: anon requested a part 2 to falling
[4.9k]
“I really wish you’d let me carry something, Neeks,” you whine out, pressing the button to call the elevator down to the parking garage.
“Nope. I’m perfectly capable of carrying your groceries on my own,” Nico dramatically swings the reusable shopping bags over his shoulder, walking a few feet away before turning and striking a pose.
Your laugh echoes around the concrete garage, amused at his theatrics.
It’s been about three weeks since your accident at the rink, and Nico hasn’t left your side since. As long as he’s in Jersey, that is.
After that first night he’s only really left your apartment to either go to practice and games, or to sleep. Sometimes even the latter not being true, considering there’s been a few nights he’s crashed on your couch after late-night movie sessions or particularly rough games.
During your follow up appointment your doctor told you to keep the sling on for a few more weeks, not wanting to add any unnecessary strain to the healing muscles in your shoulder. After you told Nico the sling was here to stay, he insisted he was going to, literally, be your right-hand man.
You were also told, as long as you and the sling are one, going to work is on your list of restricted activities. So is any form of strenuous activity, lifting anything over ten pounds, and whatever else Nico deems unsafe for you to do. Like carrying your groceries.
Nico has shown up at your apartment every morning with a cup of coffee, either bringing you breakfast or offering to cook for you. He takes his post-practice and pre-game naps on your couch in case you need him to do anything for you. After home games he shows up with takeout and candy, keeping you company while you’re stuck in your apartment day after day.
When he’s on the road he enlisted the help of Jesper’s girlfriend, Nicole, to come over and check on you at least once a day. Anytime he’s playing in a different state, no matter where he is, he always manages to have dinner delivered to your house, making sure you’re not stuck eating microwave meals and simple dinners, thanks to your limited cooking ability and lack of being able to drive at the moment.
Before he has to leave for stretch of away games, he always makes sure he takes you to the grocery store, stocking your pantry and fridge to make sure you have everything you need while he’s gone. He calls you every chance he has on the road, wanting to check on you and how you’re feeling while keeping you up on the team happenings, knowing how eager you are to get back to work.
Today is one of his ‘preparation’ days, as you’ve dubbed them. He showed up this morning with a coffee and a bagel, cut into quarters instead of in halves, so the insides wouldn’t slip out of the other side when you tried to take a one-handed bite. He did your dishes and folded your laundry for you while you showered, twisting your hair into one of his trademark braids after you were dressed before ushering you out of your apartment, claiming the two of you had errands to run.
The first errand on his list was taking you to the rink, a satisfied feeling settling over him when he saw the large smile on your face when he told you he asked if you could sit in on practice today. You were practically buzzing with excitement, not having been at the rink since the day of your fall. You had grown to love the sport of hockey during your time at your job. Missing the chill of the air, the sound of pucks sliding across the ice and the scrape of their skates as the players come to a stop.
Several of the players slide over to the bench where you sit, just as excited to see you as you are to see them.
Jack and Luke come over first, telling you how ready they are for you to be back, having given themselves the job of Puck Police, ensuring that all of the pucks are cleared out of the skate path leading towards the benches.
Jesper, Timo, and Holtzy tell you how much they miss the jokes you would tell them so they would quit mean mugging and actually smile during arrival pictures.
Dawson, Johnny, and Curtis joined the gathered group, bringing you a card that everyone from the team had signed. It was a giant novelty card, clearly custom made, considering there was a picture of the whole team on the front, the inside reading “Sorry you fell over our pucks. We feel really pucking bad about it.”
You were doubled over in laughter the entire time the team spent chatting with you before their practice officially started, fulling understanding the sentiment that laughter is the best medicine. You were even able to give the young girl filling in for you some pointers, helping her adjust the settings on the camera for different shots, happy you were able to sneak in a little bit of work to your visit.
After practice was over and Nico was showered and ready to go, the two of you went out for lunch at a small café just down the street from the rink, their large bakery selection immediately catching your eye. You ended up having cake for lunch, telling Nico to mind his own business when he asked if you wanted any ‘real’ food.
Once lunch was over, he took you to the grocery store, helping you pick out ready made meals and a few other essentials before bringing you back to your apartment, where you were currently witnessing Nico’s wannabe model moves.
Once the elevator lifts you to your floor, you walk over and unlock your door, leaving it open behind you for Nico to walk through, following you straight to your kitchen to put away your groceries.
You grab a box of cereal, setting it down on the counter before reaching up to open your cabinet door. Just as you’re reaching up to place the box on the shelf, you hear something fall, a bottle of water slipping off of one of the shelves in your fridge. You jump slightly, trying to turn your body at the same time, the sudden movement pinching one of the nerves in your shoulder, causing you to let out a hiss.
Nico immediately clocked the displeased noise, jerking his body into a standing position and walking over towards you.
“Are you okay? What happened? Did you try to lift this up with your bad arm?” he asks you, arms hovering around your frame, eyes glued your slinged shoulder.
You finish pushing the cardboard box onto the shelf, closing the wooden cabinet door.
Rolling your arm a bit, you turn to face Nico.
“I’m fine. Just jumped a little and it caught my shoulder in a funny way, I guess. No big deal, just more uncomfortable than anything,” you assure him.
He narrows his eyes at you, trying to gauge if you’re lying to him or not.
Narrowing your eyes back at him, you pull a face at him.
He backs up, laughing, seemingly convinced you’re fine.
Walking back over to finish placing the several salad kits you bought in the fridge, Nico starts talking with his head fully inside of your fridge.
“So, we leave out around six tonight and I won’t be back until late Friday night,” he tells you, meaning he’ll be gone almost four full days, considering today is Monday. “Nicole offered to stay over here if you wanted her to, incase you needed to go anywhere.”
You’ve gained a friend in Nicole through this whole process, enjoying her company. You didn’t have many girl friends in the city, your job taking up the majority of your time. Nico was the person you spent the most time with, even before these past few weeks, but you occasionally tagged along to outings with the team, growing close to Jack, Luke, Timo, and Jesper, too. You figure that’s why Nico chose to ask Nicole to help out, seeing as you’d spent some time with her during celebratory bar nights and get togethers at Nico’s apartment.
The two of you were friendly before, but now you would consider yourself good friends, going out to lunch together and watching bad reality tv during the day when she would come over. She even helped you do your skincare routine one night before bed, giving you different tips and tricks on the order of application. It felt like you were in middle school again having a sleepover with your best friend.
“I might take her up on that. I think there’s new episodes of The Circle on Netflix. We could binge them while eating ice cream!” your eyes light up with an idea.
Nico laughs and shakes his head at you while shutting your fridge door.
“I really don’t understand your obsession with these awful shows. Jesper and I were talking about how we wouldn’t be surprised if the two of you signed up for your own spot on one soon.”
The thought of Nico talking about you when Jesper is talking about Nicole makes your brain stutter for a moment.
You can’t deny that your new found feelings for Nico have continued to develop during the time he’s spent being your self-appointed helper. His insistence on being your personal chauffer, showing up every day like clockwork, even going as far to tell the media team the alternate captains are going to have to do post-game media for home games until you’re back to work causes your feelings to grow each day.
You haven’t told your mom about the arrangement with Nico, not wanting to get her hopes up, still not entirely convinced Nico isn’t just being nice. The two of you haven’t shared any intense moments like the first night he braided your hair, now the braiding sessions being filled with small talk and laughter.
Hearing that Nico is bringing you up when Jesper is talking about his own girlfriend, however, sparks a seed of hope in you.
“And if we do, you and Jesper can be our cheerleaders from the other side,” you tell him, sticking your tongue out.
When Nico finishes putting away the rest of your groceries, he takes the reusable bag and returns it to its hiding spot under the sink.
At this point, Nico knows your apartment as well as you do. He knows where all of your dishes go, because he unloads your dishwasher and washes anything by hand that won’t fit. He knows where all of your clothes go in your room, helping you wash, fold, and put away your laundry – with the exception of your underwear, he hasn’t earned access to that drawer yet. He knows where everything in your bathroom is, having to take a shower one morning after he crashed on the couch. He even knows which junk drawer has which random items in it.
You’ve become so comfortable with Nico being here, it’s like a tiny part of you doesn’t want your arm to heal, just so he has to continue coming over and playing roommate.
Nico walks over and leans against your stove, facing you.
“Are you sure you’ll be fine while I’m gone? It’s the longest stretch of away games we’ve had since your fall.”
He looks genuinely worried, the thought causing a familiar swirl in your belly.
“I’ll be fine, Neeks. This thing comes off next week anyways,” you lift the arm in your sling for emphasis. “I’m going to have to get used to you being gone again, anyways. This week will be like a practice run.”
You catch the way Nico’s eyes just slightly fall. If you weren’t always paying attention to his beautiful eyes, you would’ve missed it, perking up just as quickly as they fell.
“God, finally. Thought I’d have to be your maid forever,” he exaggerates his words, making a big show of rolling his eyes and throwing his arms up above his head.
“Oh shut it, you love hanging out with me,” you step towards him, wagging your finger in his face.
He tilts his head, pretending to think about your words. “Yeah, I guess you’re pretty good company,” he reaches out, grabbing the finger a few inches from his nose.
The two of you stand there, his hand not letting go of your finger, letting it drop in-between your bodies.
His lips fall from his wide smile, slightly separated as he stares at you.
Feeling the energy shift, you stare back at him, not knowing what exactly is happening. Neither one of you have spoken for a solid minute now, your finger still trapped in his hand.
Your eyes flick down to his pink lips, and back up to his eyes. He darts his tongue out to lick his dry lips, unable to move your gaze from them this time. Thinking about what his lips would feel like on yours, the alarm bells start going off in your head.
Clearing your throat and stepping back, you break the moment, not knowing what else to do.
Nico drops your finger, bringing a hand up to run through his long hair, looking away from your face.
Was he thinking about kissing you like you were thinking about kissing him? Would you have really let him? Why did you interrupt the moment? You like him you idiot!
When Nico pushes himself off of your stove, you start ignoring the voice in your head.
“I need to get going. Still need to stop by my place and grab a few things before heading to the rink,” he says, still refusing to meet your eye. “I’ll, uh, call you when we get there, like usual, okay?”
Nodding at him you reply with a “Yeah, sounds good.”
“Alright. Good. I’ll see you in a few days?” he walks over to you, hands twitching at his sides like he wants to give you a hug, but doesn’t know if he should.
You eliminate the space between you, wrapping him up in a hug. “Sounds perfect. Play safe.”
He hugs your body to his for a few more moments before letting go, a small “Bye” leaving his mouth before he grabs his keys off of your kitchen table and exits your apartment with a wave.
You stand in your kitchen thinking about your interaction, deciding a phone call to your mother was needed.
———————————————————————————
Grabbing the bowl of freshly popped popcorn, you walk back over to your living room and plop down next to Nicole.
Tonight was the night the boys are supposed to be getting back from their road trip. Since they weren’t supposed to be getting back until late tonight, you decided to spend the evening watching some of your favorite rom coms to pass the time.
Nicole always said waiting for Jesper to get home on the day of was the worst, because she knows its so close but the time always seems to drag. You surprisingly understood, the past week feeling like the longest of your life without Nico’s presence around your apartment.
After your phone call with your mom the other night, you allowed yourself to realize you want to be with Nico. Your confession to her that you did actually have feelings for the hockey player earned a squeal of joy and an extremely enthusiastic “I told you so!”
Talking with your mom about his actions throughout your whole accident and healing process really opened your eyes to how long you’ve really had feelings for him. You weren’t completely blind, finding Nico attractive from the very beginning, but you hadn’t really let yourself go all the way. Preventing yourself from getting your hopes up and embarrassing yourself, you kept using the excuse of him just being nice to justify why there were no feelings involved in your friendship.
You realized what a load of bullshit that was, though, considering how often you found yourself calling him to tell him good news whenever you received any. Or wanting to have a movie night anytime you were upset or sad, knowing your mood would improve the second Nico walked through your door. Or all the times at the bar when you would ignore men’s advances, wanting to just spend time talking with Nico the whole night.
Your mom recounted all the times she knew, once again marking that first time he helped you on the ice as the moment. She’s still not able to convince you that it was then, considering you and Nico didn’t even really know each other then.
Thinking back on your phone call with your mom made you think about how you hadn’t heard from Nico in a while, pulling your phone out to see if he had given you any update on where they were.
Nicole threw a handful of popcorn at you, fussing at you to pay attention to the movie and that they’ll be home when they’re home. You surrendered to her wishes and placed your phone face down on the coffee table in front of you.
Your third movie of the night was about halfway over when you heard a key turning in the lock on your door, knowing that only one other person had a key to your apartment.
You grab the remote and pause the movie, turning your body to face behind your couch, waiting for Nico to walk around the corner.
As he rounds the corner, suitcase in hand, you can’t help the grin that breaks out on your face.
“You’re back!” you exclaim, fighting the urge to leap off of the couch and crush him in a hug.
“I’m tired,” he responds, his smile bright but eyes tired.
The dark skin under his eyes confirm his words, assuming he had been asleep on the plane until they landed.
“Well, I guess that means I need to get home to Jesp,” Nicole says, sitting up and grabbing her shoes.
Nico looks over, mumbling out a “Good to see you Nicole, thanks for keeping her company this week,” before looking over at you, yawning as he told you he was going to take a quick shower then crash on your couch.
You give him a nod, telling him the stuff he bought last time was still in there.
Nicole gives the two of you a look, waiting until she hears the bathroom door shut to speak up.
“He keeps shower stuff here?”
Looking over at her you explain the time he fell asleep here and needed to shower that morning, stating you had too many expensive looking products to waste on himself, so he bought his own shower essentials and uses them anytime he decides to shower here after practice.
“So let me get this straight. He comes home to your apartment after a long road series, keeps his own products in your shower, has a key, and stays the night sometimes?” she watches you nod, her words not sinking in. “So, he does all of this, but the two of you still claim you’re just friends?”
Not knowing how to respond, you just stare at her. She keeps looking at you, waiting for your answer.
“Well…I mean…I don’t know,” you finally spit out.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” she questions.
“I mean, there’s little moments here and there that lets me think we could be more than friends, but I don’t want to bring it up because what if he’s just being nice? What if he agrees that we’re really just friends?” you open up to Nicole, the only other person you’re able to talk about this with being your mom.
She scoffs at you. “Are you kidding me? What kind of moments? Because from where Jesper and I are sitting, we keep expecting you guys to make it official any day now.”
Your cheeks heat at her words. “Well, like the fact I never even had to ask him to do all of this stuff for me, he just did. And he admitted that he drove all the way to the hospital the night I got hurt because no one had any updates, then drove here with no socks on when they told him I had already come home. He keeps getting all of these restaurants to cut my food up in weird ways so it’s easier for me to eat with one hand. And if they don’t do it, he will,” you keep rambling, not focusing on your surroundings enough to hear the shower shut off. “I mean, he offered me skating lessons when he saw me stumble on the ice once, then started coming over for dinner multiple times a week, unless they’re on the road.”
Nicole looks past you down the short hallway, noticing the light shining through the open bathroom door.
You keep talking. “The biggest one, though, is that I think we almost kissed before they left on Monday,” you tell her, causing Nicole’s eyebrows to shoot up.
“SPILL,” Nicole insists, her interest at an all time high.
“Well, we were standing in my kitchen just goofing off and I stuck my finger in his face. He grabbed it and wouldn’t let go, then we just kind of started staring at each other. Before I knew what was happening, I was staring at his lips and he was staring at mine, then I got nervous and stepped back before anything could happen,” you tell her with a shrug.
Nicole groans. “Are you serious!? You could have kissed him and you chickened out? What were you thinking?”
“I don’t know! I was thinking ‘what if I just have something on my face and he doesn’t actually want to kiss me.’”
She shakes her head at you. Movement down the hallway catches her eye, watching Nico step out of the small bathroom, and idea forming.
“I mean, you do like him, right?” She watches Nico’s figure stop in his tracks.
You sigh at her, letting your head sag a bit.
“Of course I like Nico. He’s kind, funny, takes care of me,” you start, a dreamy tone making its way into your voice. “Not to mention he’s insanely attractive. I just…don’t want to mess things up.”
Nicole flits her eyes over to Nico while you’re not paying attention, watching his face morph into shock.
“Y/N, the only way you’re going to be able to know if he feels the same way or not is to tell him. Forget about making a fool of yourself. Nico won’t shun you if he doesn’t feel the same way, he’s not that kind of guy,” she assures you.
“I know, Nic. But how do I even bring it up? How do I find the right time to slide ‘hey, so I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you, let me know if you feel the same!’” You pull a thumbs up at her, pulling a sarcastic face.
Nicole smirks at you, confusing you until she says “Just like that,” before pointing behind you to a freshly showered Nico standing in the hallway, having heard every word you just said.
You turn around, snapping your head back towards Nicole when you see Nico. You don’t move, too petrified with the fact he just heard you say you were in love with him.
“Y/N, is that true?” Nico calls out, cautiously walking towards your couch.
Nicole stands, claiming it was time for her to go before she hastily made her exit.
Your eyes are squeezed shut, trying to pull off the ‘if I can’t see them, they can’t see me,’ move.
“Is what you just told Nicole true? You’re in love with me?” you hear from in front of you now, feeling the couch dip.
You refuse to open your eyes, wanting to disappear into thin air. When Nico reaches his hand out, grabbing your non-slinged hand in his own, your eyes snap open.
He’s looking at you with an expression in his eyes you’ve only ever seen a few times before. Once when you wore his jersey for opposites day at work, handing him your camera to tote around all day as you, very poorly, skated around the ice, trying to scoot a puck around. The second was when you surprised him with a pan of brownies for his birthday, knowing how much he loves the chocolatey squares. The third was when he braided your hair for the first time, recognizing the softness of his eyes through the mirror. The most recent, aside from right now, was earlier this week, during the same moment you just described to Nicole.
“I…” you try to speak, but you’re still stuck in shock.
Nico chuckles and drops his head, looking at your hand in his.
“Would it make you feel better if I told you I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you, too?” he repeats your words, looking up and into your eyes as he says them.
Your mouth snaps shut, a new kind of shock entering your system.
“I think I have been since that first time Jack almost took you out on the ice,” he starts. “I had seen you before, but we only really spoke when you were telling me how to pose for pictures. Or making me smile for arrival pictures,” he reminisces, a fond smile on his face. “I always thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, but I knew I had to get you to talk to me somehow, the skating lessons being my perfect in,” he tells you, squeezing your hand.
You can’t believe your mother was right. The lessons were a calculated move for Nico to establish himself in your life.
Nico keeps talking, pulling you from the realization. “The more we spent time together, the more I realized I wanted you to be more than just my pretty coworker I taught how to ice skate. So, when you offered the dinners after lessons, I jumped. I was hoping it was your way of telling me you had feelings for me, too, but when you kept telling your mom we were just friends, I figured I could wait it out a little longer,” he references all the times you complained about your mom jumping to conclusions. “I kept lying in wait, trying to find the perfect moment to make my move, and then you got hurt. I was so worried when they told me you fell and they had to take you to the hospital. Got scared it was my fault, that I told you the wrong thing during a skating lesson, or I pushed you to skate on your own before you were ready,” he starts rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand.
“When I realized you would need major help while your arm was in that sling, not even being able to brush your hair by yourself, I knew this is where I could tell you. Maybe bring it up when I was braiding your hair, or slip a note in your bagel bag one morning. Hell, I even thought about spelling it out with sushi pieces that first night, but figured that might be a bit tacky,” you laughed at his words, remembering wondering what was taking him so long to bring your food to you. “But then, every time I thought about it, I chickened out. The closest I ever got was the moment in your kitchen, every muscle in my body screaming at me to just lean in and kiss you,” your laugh is cut short at his confession. “When you pulled back before I could, I assumed you didn’t feel the same way, so I left. I was embarrassed, not wanting to sit in the rejection any longer. But this week, being away for so long after spending nearly every day with you for the past three weeks, I knew I had to tell you.”
You’re glad he was as affected by not being around you this week as you were, not feeling as pathetic anymore.
“Was going to tell you when I walked through the door actually, but then I saw Nicole here and didn’t want to do it in front of her. That worked out great, didn’t it?” he laughs at the situation, Nicole clearly having different plans.
You scoff out a “Yeah, clearly, considering she railroaded me without me even knowing.”
“Well, I’m very glad she did, because now I can stop talking about you like a lovesick puppy to them,” Nico tells you, confirming your earlier feeling that Nico brings you up during ‘girlfriend talk’.
“My mom is so totally going to freak out when I tell her we’re dating,” you tell him, stopping yourself. “We are dating, right?”
Nico laughs as he brings his hands up to cup your face, pulling you in for a kiss, his lips as soft as you imagined they were. He keeps the kiss light and sweet before pulling back.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” your cheeks flush, earning another laugh from the man in front of you.
“C’mon, I’m tired and would love to sleep in an actual bed tonight. We can talk details tomorrow, girlfriend,” he emphasizes the word. “Right now, I need cuddles and sleep,” he stands, holding his hand out for you to grab as you stand, leading you down the hallway towards your bedroom.
Thinking back to what lead you to this moment, you giggle quietly to yourself, finding it a little comical that it took you literally falling on the ice and injuring yourself to realize you’d already fallen there once before.
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bluejutdae · 7 months ago
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best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Hyunjin x you
Chan , Minho, Changbin, Jisung , Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin.
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a/n: finally I managed to write the last part of this series, the Hyunjin part! There’s not much “saving” here because I had this dramatic idea in my head and I didn’t want to renounce to it. Enjoy!
The rain outside has been incessant for days, so many that it started to be difficult to recognize the time of the day just by looking at the sky. Everything it’s gray, and you almost forgot about this date. The guy is the cousin of one of your colleagues, and you would have canceled it if only you had a bit more hope. Not on this date, you know it’s gonna end up with you telling the guy it’s not the time for you for a relationship or some other fake excuse, you’ll apologize for wasting his time and the truth is: you do feel sorry for wasting his time, but staying home knowing Hyunjin is probably out there kissing his girlfriend and having fun made you a bit selfish. You ignored him for the last 5 days, after he called you at 2 am and you couldn’t help it but hope it meant something. But what would it mean? You’ll never know, cause you didn’t answer.
Your heartache clings to you like molasses, covers you head to toes, you can feel it under your teeth. You’re so used to it, it doesn’t scare you anymore. But it’s so tiring to wake up everyday and do the same routine: wear your clothes, slip in your shoes, put on your grief, grab your purse. Day after day.
The restaurant you’re having your date at is a nice one, you often order takeout from it. The only downside is that it doesn’t deliver home, so anytime you want its amazing food, you have to get out of your house and come collect it. It’s worth it.
Shivering in your cute top, you nod to something your date just said and reach for the wine glass. You have nothing in common with him, you barely remember his name. Was it Minjoon? Minhyun? Once again something distracts you from the conversation (it’s a monologue, at this point) when you hear your phone chime, signaling a message. And since love is blind, and most days it’s also stupid, you can clearly recognize the tune you use for Hyunjin and Hyunjin only.
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You have been ignoring him, but you were sure he didn’t even notice. Ten minutes pass and you’re on the verge of just leaving the date, apologize profusely and go home to cry. The bell on the door chimes as someone enters and, once again not paying attention to the man in front of you, your eyes wanders to look at whoever enters. It could have been a couple grabbing dinner, it could have been parents celebrating their kid’s success, it could have been anyone. But just as love is blind, so is luck. Because it’s Hyunjin who just entered the restaurant, and it’s Hyunjin looking directly at you, eyebrows knit in a frown and a sour expression distorting his lips. You’re frozen in your seat, watching him shaking his head, speaking with a waiter, collecting his dinner and leaving. You can't have him leave like this. Something in your gut is telling you it’s now or never, if you let him go now, you might as well let him go forever. And you’re not ready for that.
In a blur of apologies and confused sentences you leave your share of money on the tablecloth and, grabbing your purse, you flee the restaurant. It doesn’t matter that you left your jacket on the back of your chair, it doesn’t matter that’s it’s pouring outside, it matters only your voice calling his name.
He doesn’t turn, doesn’t stop, keeps on waking under the rain, head down and fast steps. You start doing that awkward running walk, reaching to grab his wrist. This effectively makes him stop, but he looks displeased.
“Why did you leave without saying goodbye?”
“You’re on a date.” He frees himself from your grasp, almost like your touch burns him.
“So?”
“So you’re having dinner with another man. Why would I interrupt?”
“Because you always come say ‘hi’ when you meet me by chance.”
“Not when you’re on a date!” He snips. You’re still both under the rain. For a moment you wonder why he hasn’t insisted on moving under a covering. You haven’t because the cold rain is soothing your nerves, soothing the pain you feel anytime you’re too close to him. Did Icarus feel like this when he was soaring too close to the sun? Did he wish for the rain when the scorching wax burned his skin? Did he love the freedom so much he reveled in the pain, hating it at the same time?
“I never go on dates!”
“Clearly, you do.”
You sigh, “this was my first date in 4 years, Hyune.”
“And I didn’t know you had a date, wanna guess why? Because you ignored me for days!” He uses his free hand to push back the strands of hair that fell on his face, dripping wet.
“I thought you were busy. Last time we talked you were really focused on getting ready to meet your girlfriend. Why would I interrupt that?” He’s baffled, and rightly so. In the past, you had no qualms about texting him at all hours.
“Well, I was focused”, you can hear his mocking tone. When did this transform into a fight? “because I was meeting her to put an end to our relationship, because I realized I’ll never be in love with her because I am crazy in love with you. And I tried to call you because I needed to tell you so, I needed to know I did the right thing. I thought this wasn’t one sided. And yet you ignored me and- fuck” he laughs disheartened. “-and went on a date with another man.”
“I- you, what?” You blink rapidly, drops of rain blurring your sight. “You broke up with her? For…” you can’t say it. You can’t bring yourself to say ‘for me’, because it’d make it real. And it could be the best thing or the worst thing. Or both, at the same time. Did Icarus ever think he’d succeed? Did he ever consider he could fly, escape and be free; or did he -like you- only ever imagined failure in front of him? Was he like you, swimming stroke after stroke towards something, wishing for the best but never thinking it could come true? There’s a certain push that animates the despairings, there’s no fight or flight response. There’s only the pilgrimage towards the unreachable goal.
“For you.”
A beat passes. Another. Another one.
“Since when?”
“Since you held my hand after that nightmare. Since I realized I'm not scared when I’m with you.”
There’s something they don’t tell you about desperation, about wanting something so bad that you can feel it missing from your own body. For weeks, for months, you get used to the longing, the yearning. When you can finally wrap your hands around his shoulder, when you can press your lips against his and hear him utter a soft groan, all that you used to feel transforms into electricity, it runs through your whole body and sets you aflame from the inside. This kind of burning, though? It’s a welcomed feeling.
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barefoot-joker · 11 months ago
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Snake in the Garden Pt 2~Yandere!Lucifer X Reader
Hello, everybody! And welcome to part 2 of Snake in the Garden! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter and I can't wait to see what you guys think. There will be a couple more parts after this one, so be on the lookout! At the end I will have a taglist of people. If you would like to be added, don't hesitate to comment. Again, I'm sorry if Lucifer is OOC. I tried my best. As always, I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night!
Words: 2877
Warnings: Swearing, Mental Breakdown, Forced Companionship, Possessive Tendencies, Ignoring One's Wishes
Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
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I sighed as I shifted in the large King sized bed. It was quite comfortable with red silk sheets, fuzzy blankets and so many pillows one could almost make an igloo. While the mattress was quite huge, I wasn’t given much room to move. Currently His Majesty had his inky black arms wrapped around my waist and his legs tangled with mine. The heat of his breath and body felt hotter than the fires of Hell. I tried to shift again but he just cuddled closer. “Just five more minutes, darling.”
“Please, Lucifer-”
“I love it when you say my name,” he purred.
“I really need to go to the bathroom. I promise I’ll come right back.”
He hummed and I shuddered as his claws lightly tapped at my hip. “I suppose I can allow it. But do be quick, I’ll miss you.”
His grip loosened and I was quick to sit up. Fast walking to the bathroom, I shut and locked the door behind me. While there was no doubt in my mind he could use some magic to open the door if he wanted to, the lock soothed some sense of protection in me. A sigh of relief escaped me as I sat on the toilet and let my hands run down my face. I didn’t really need to use the bathroom, it was just a lame excuse to get away for a few minutes. After all, it had only been a few hours since I found out my little Red was actually the Devil himself and I was being ushered into the role of Queen of Hell. I shook my head as I tried to get rid of the look of adoration he held in his eyes throughout the night. It was frightening. Silently, I played with the hem of my favorite color nightgown as I tried to think of a way out of this. 
It’s not like I could kill him. He seemed pretty agile on his feet and with magic on his side he’d be able to stop a fatal blow.
Leaving wasn’t an option either. There was palace staff everywhere, little demons with suits waiting for their master’s beck and call. The property was guarded by David and Goliath as well. Besides, I didn’t really know the layout of the castle and would just be going in blind, despite the elaborate tour I had gotten.
The final thought was to play into his game, make him believe I was in love with him. I mentally gagged. Not only did I think I wouldn’t be able to handle pretending to be a fan of his courtship, I feel he would be able to sniff out my intentions right away. He was an ancient being of many eons after all and he had a previous wife.
I looked up from my thoughts and gazed at the Victorian stained glass window in front of me. The window was able to be pulled apart in the middle as there was a latch on either side. Hold on a minute.
I got up and stalked over, undoing the golden latch quietly. Looking down, I gulped at how high up we were. The dead grass seemed miles away. Perhaps if I got a rope of some sort I’d be able to climb out? 
“Darling, are you almost done in there? It’s getting quite lonely out here.”
“C-coming!”
I quickly closed the window, flushed the toilet, and turned on the sink. Can’t have him believing I was a liar already. A few seconds later I shut off the sink and unlocked the door. Opening it, I could see Lucifer’s gaze shift towards me and a smile peeled at his lips. He patted the empty side of the bed so I slowly walked over. I peeled back the thin black curtain that surrounded the four poster bed and sat. His claws slid across the blankets and planted themselves on my thigh, his thumb rubbing the flesh tenderly. “I’ve canceled all my meetings for the day to help try and get you more situated, dear. Doesn’t that sound lovely?”
“I suppose.”
I turned my head to glance at the blankets, my fingers drawing patterns being more entertaining. Suddenly a knock at the door had us both looking towards it. “Sire, breakfast is ready.”
“Thank you. We’ll be down in a few.”
“Of course, Sire.”
I heard little footsteps scurry away. “I guess that’s our cue to get up.”
He pulled back the blankets and I blushed upon seeing him shirtless and with boxers that had apples all over. I had forgotten that’s how he went to bed. He slipped past me and headed to a dark oak wardrobe across from the bed and opened it. Lucifer shifted through the various clothes before deciding on something. He brought out two hangers and laid them on the bed. One was the white suit that he wore yesterday and the other was a lacy white blouse, velvety green skirt and black boots. “I’ll admit I don’t have many options for you to wear as of right now. We’ll have to go shopping together sometime soon. I hope this will suffice for now.”
“It’s fine, thank you.”
I slid off the bed, grabbed my clothes and headed into the bathroom. I locked the door and began to strip. It took me a few minutes to do up the buttons on the blouse but once I was done I walked back into the bedroom. Lucifer was just putting on his boots while I draped my nightgown over the back of a chair. “Well don’t you just look enchanting, my dear.”
“Always the charmer, aren’t you?” “I’m just stating the truth.”
He leaned over and gave my cheek a kiss. I just huffed. “Shall we go?”
I nodded. Interlocking our arms together, Lucifer led the way to the dining room. It was quite the grand room with a chandelier hanging above the large table. The blonde pulled out my chair for me and scooted it in once I had sat. He placed himself across from me and as soon as we were situated a few castle staff came out. They placed a mug in front of each of us, a dark roast coffee smell emitting from it. Plates were put on the table as well. A couple of eggs, sausage and bacon were put in the form of a happy face, something I’m sure Lucifer had a hand in. Breakfast was quiet as the King looked over his newspaper and I poked at my food. From what I ate it was quite good, just uncomfortable with those red eyes gazing at me every once in a while. 
When the table was cleared, the two of us walked towards the Devil’s workshop. Lucifer gently pushed me into a black high backed chair as he sat on a stool on a podium. I looked at all the rubber ducks that filled the various containers spread throughout the room wondering why. Why rubber ducks? Why so many?
“I hope you don’t mind me working on my latest creation, dearest.”
“Not at all. But, um, what am I supposed to do?”
“Ah, how foolish of me! Here you are.”
A book materialized on the table in front of me and I realized it was one of my favorites. “I hope that is alright.”
I nodded and flipped it open. For a few hours our time was spent like this: him working on his latest invention and I reading. A little bit in I became a bit restless. I placed my book down and gazed around the small room. Besides the rubber ducks and table I sat at, there were other various knick knacks on bookshelves, tools hanging on the walls and some framed photos. The photos had the same three people in them: Lucifer, a beautiful blonde woman and a young blonde girl. Could that be his wife and daughter he mentioned before? “And, done!”
Lucifer spun on his stool to face me and proudly held out his creation. It was a yellow rubber duck with red music notes painted all over it. “How…interesting.”
He stood and placed the duck in my hands. “I know it may look normal, but this is no ordinary duck. Here,” he squeezed the wings and suddenly music came spilling from its beak. 
It was a romantic tune, one I didn’t recognize but sounded familiar. It sounded like a song I’d hear play from the church I’d walk past every day. “It’s music from my birth place. The tune was often played at our festivities and it just reminded me of you.”
“Well, thank you, I guess.”
I sat the duck down on the table and sighed. There he goes with the romantic gestures again. “Is it not to your liking, my love?”
“No, it's just…nevermind.”
I could feel his hands wrap around my shoulders and I tensed. “What’s wrong, Y/n? You’ve been off all day.”
“Can I ask you a favor?”
“Of course! Anything in my power is yours for the asking, you just name it!”
“I want to go home. My actual home on Earth. I, I don’t belong here, Lucifer.”
I could feel tears in my eyes as I gazed down at my hands in my lap. The hands on my shoulders squoze. “You know I can’t do that, sweetie. Your place is by my side here in Hell.”
I clenched my hands and bit my lip. Anger started to slowly rise within me. I stood fast, Lucifer’s hands flying off my shoulders. “How can you decide where I belong? You’re not my father nor are you my husband. Can’t you see how much I hate it here? How much I hate you?!”
His eyes widened and I rushed out of the room. I heard him call for me but I just ignored it. Tears fell down my cheeks as I let my legs carry me throughout the palace till I reached the outside. I fell to the ground near a hand carved stone bench and let my feelings out. I truly didn’t want to be courted by the Devil and no way did I want to remain in my own personal hell. Why couldn’t things be back to normal where I could tend to my garden and have Red join me? Red, that damn snake. Why did he have to come into my life? If only I hadn’t let my kind nature tend to him, then perhaps I’d still be home. “Damn him! DAMN HIM!”
I slammed my hands on the bench and continued to cry. It felt like an eternity till all my crying had ceased and I took the time to look around. That’s when I noticed something in the overgrowth surrounding the fence on the property. I stood and made my way over, pulling at the wiry, thorny brush. My eyes widened as I saw a hole in the fence. Could this be a sign from God? Was he giving me a way out? I looked back at the palace and then back to the fence. As much as I wanted to leave now I knew it wouldn’t be a good idea. Lucifer was no doubt looking for me and leaving would only heighten his upset emotions. I’ll just have to keep this in mind.
I moved the brush back to how it was originally and stepped away, just in time too. One of the servants came out from the glass doors and headed towards me. “Miss Y/n, His Majesty has been looking all over for you! He’s been worried sick!”
I didn’t say anything as he gently grabbed my hand, dragging me inside. “Come along. He’ll be glad to see you in one piece.”
The next few days Lucifer and I spent walking on eggshells around each other. There was an awkward air about us as we went about our days. I suppose my outburst was the cause of it. Even with our hesitation, the demon did his best to court me. Meals were spent in each other’s presence at close proximity, gifts of flowers, rubber ducks and long walks around the property were fairly common, and intimacy was at an all time high. Lucifer had to have his hands on me at all times and kisses on the cheeks and forehead happened at every turn. It was about a week later that His Majesty decided it was time we went out into the city. One of the servants drove us in and the ride over I was given some guidelines. “You are to stay by my side at all times. Pentagram City is quite the dangerous place. If somebody gets too close, I will deal with it personally. Anybody that talks to you will go through me and please dear, don’t hesitate to have fun.”
I’ll try with the short leash you have on me.
The car stopped and Lucifer and I got out. He stooped to the window and whispered something to the driver before coming to my side. Interlocking our arms, we began our walk. “I thought some fresh air away from home would do us both some good, my darling. Besides, this will give us a chance to look for some clothes for you.”
I nodded. As we walked down the sidewalk I could feel a dozen stares pointed in our direction, whispers about our presence floating amongst the civilians. Lucifer didn’t seem to mind but with all the gawking I felt a bit shy. As we passed by an ornate window display, he stopped suddenly. “This seems right up your alley, sweetie.”
He pulled us inside the store. We stood at the entryway and I couldn’t help but gaze at the various clothes. It seemed this shop was more on the posh end, with skirts, dresses and fancy blouses decorating the mannequins. The store itself was a bit busy as customers wandered, but as soon as we entered all eyes were on us. I did my best to shrink into myself while Lucifer puffed out his chest in pride. “Your Majesty, welcome! How grand of you to grace us with your presence! How can we help you today,” asked a female imp in black clothes. 
“My darling here is lacking a wardrobe at home, so I thought it fit to come and look around.”
The woman looked me up and down and smiled. “I’m sure we can find something for your sweetheart. If you’d like to follow me please we can start looking at some pieces.”
I looked to the short man beside me and he just nodded in her direction. “Don’t be shy, dear.”
The two of us followed along as the imp pointed out some options, Lucifer stating his opinion on each one. When we had grown quite the collection, we were led to the fitting rooms in the back. The King perched himself on a plush bench as I stepped into one of the smaller rooms. As I was getting dressed, I heard a phone going off. The circus ringtone rang throughout the store until it stopped when the person picked up. “Charlie, sweetie, how are you?”
I stopped upon hearing Lucifer’s voice. “That’s great to hear. You and Maggie had a good date the other night? Wonderful. How have things at the hotel been? Any recent sinners looking to be redeemed?”
Redeemed? I scooted closer to the curtain to listen in. “I see. Heaven is giving you a hard time, eh?”
Heaven? “What am I up to? Oh your old man is just taking a stroll through town. Listen Charlie, I am quite busy at the moment. How about I give you a call later, okay? Alright sounds good. Buh bye. How’s it going in there, Y/n?”
I stepped out and a smirk rested itself on his face. “My, my. Don’t you look lovely. You know, if we were back at home I don’t think I could hold myself back from ravishing you.”
I felt a shudder go up my spine. Gross!
“I like that blouse on you. It brings out your eyes very nicely. How about trying some more on for dear ole Luci?”
“O-okay.”
I slammed the curtain shut and let myself gag at what he had said earlier. How very forward of him. Now about this hotel…maybe this could be my ticket out of here. 
“Lucifer?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Who was that on the phone?”
“Oh, that was my daughter Charlie!”
“I thought you said you didn’t have a great relationship with her?”
“I don’t, but we’re working on it. I’m helping her with her little passion project.”
“Oh? And what’s that?” Gotcha.
“The Hazbin Hotel. She believes she can solve Hell’s population problem by getting sinners redeemed into Heaven. I honestly don’t see the point, but if helping brings us closer together then I’ll be there for her.”
“I see.” Perhaps if I went the Princess of Hell could get me back to Earth!
After I had tried everything on, we went to the checkout counter and bought a few pieces. I carried the bags back to the car and the whole time I brewed up a plan on how to escape.
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Text
Making Porn With The Number One Pro Hero
Pairing: Toshinori Yagi (All Might/Skinny Might) x Fem! Pro-Hero! Reader.
Warnings: NSFW, Smut, Jealous sex (?), Mirror sex, Oral sex (fem receiving), Secret ((established)) relationship, Recording sex (so y'all make porn), Minor hair pulling, Semi-public sex, Intercourse (P in V), Daddy Kink, you two are almost caught in the act, mention of you two previously being caught in the act, I finally used a condom!! (I usually write about creampies but this time I didn't), Some bitch tries to touch our All Might but fails, We accidentally punch her in the face, Toshi is pussy whipped.
Summary: You have a sex dream about your boyfriend which leads to a fantasy, All Might wants to achieve that fantasy with you after you punch another All Might slut in the face. The fantasy doesn't TOTALLY go to planned.
Format: Kinktober Fic, Day 2.
Writing Time: 7 hours (with no breaks, longest amount of time I've ever spent on a fic).
Word Count: 3,308.
A/N:
Day 2 of Kinktober! Enjoy!
The introduction is ridiculously fucking long, idk why but skip to the first —-//— if you're like me and only interested in the sex. I hate the beginning part anyway and it's very obvious my writing has suffered from my hiatus, but oh well. It will get better.Technically you get railed by Skinny All Might in his Silver Age suit, hope that's ok.I have to give this thing a part 2 at some point, this is way too hot and I'm so proud of it.
I kept writing then deleting then rewriting this shit (which is why it took 7 hours) so y'all better let me know if you like it :)
Here is the masterlist for all my Kinktober 2023 works.
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---///---
Being in an secret relationship with the Number 1 Hero was difficult to say the least.
Having to sneak around everyone was fun and slightly erotic at first, but slowly became annoying and a bit painful at times.
You had recently told Toshinori about a sexy fantasy you had of him. To have him fuck you in his dressing room right before an interview, ideally from behind in front of a mirror whilst you record, you two had made porn before (for only you two's eyes, no one else's!!) so recording sex wasn't new to you guys.
Toshinori had giggled like a little schoolboy and covered his growing erection when you told him about your little fantasy, and said it sounded very hot. But after you kissed him and gave him a handy right then and there, he calmed down a bit and explained to you how unlikely it was to happen, he feared someone would walk in and catch you both (one person had before) and possibly tell someone.
Sadly your lover had made it clear countless times before he didn't want a public relationship for the sake of protecting you and others. You understood completely and was happy Toshinori valued protecting you over everything, but that didn't mean you didn't long to hold his hand in public.
Very few knew about you two; Young Midoriya, David Shield, Sir Nighteye (RIP) and Aizawa (Aizawa finding out was an accident, he had caught you two in a compromising position in Toshinori's classroom after school hours). But you both was content with those who knew about you two, you trusted all of them, and didn't plan on adding anyone else to the list.
Early on into your pro-hero career, you were introduced to one journalist and news reporter who you honestly couldn't remember the name of. She was young and very attractive, no doubt becoming the face of her news station because of her pretty face and impressive figure. She was well known to interview pro heroes and flirt with them, and unsurprisingly lot of them would flirt back.
She had interviewed All Might a few times and like usual she would flirt a lot. He'd see straight through her and politely respond in a professional way, so you had no problems with her because you trusted your boyfriend to shut down her advances. She wouldn't be the first girl to throw themselves at the Number 1 Hero and definitely wouldn't be the last, so you were used to seeing Toshinori be placed in uncomfortable situations which made you feel bad for him but due to your relationship being a secret you didn't feel like it was your place to cut in. But Toshinori always handled it well.
One interview you didn't see coming though.
It was a standard scheduled interview on set of a news station, like Good Morning America or something. Several pro heroes were in to be interviewed, including both you and All Might. With All Might becoming weaker and weaker by the day and unable to hold his form for long periods of time, this was his last scheduled interview. And you were so happy you could be there with him.
You were lucky enough to be able to be interviewed with your boyfriend.
"So, Mr All Might, I'd love to go over some of your best fights of your career..." The news anchor smiled and batted her eyelashes at him.
"Of course! I'd love to!" All Might grinned.
For the millionth time? Really? You rolled your eyes.
"BUT before we do that, I'd like to talk about your more personal life first..." She grinned back, moving closer to him on the long couch you were all sharing.
You moved uncomfortably in your seat and looked around, not really knowing what to do with yourself.
"Ok, sadly I can't promise I can all questions about my personal life but you can absolutely ask." All Might smiled.
"Great! So... you have had quite a long career as a pro hero who is very much so in the public eye, I imagine forming and keeping relationships in your personal life can be difficult?" She asked.
All Might moved his head to both sides as if he agreed and disagreed with her assumption, "Well it's definitely not easy forming them, but keeping the ones I have been lucky enough to form is easy. I'm very lucky to be surrounded by friends and family who I know care about me both as All Might and Toshinori."
The reporter nodded, "Right. As you mentioned family, are you planning on starting a family?"
You raised an eyebrow, feeling although the question was a bit strange.
All Might laughed, his laugh boomed loudly in your poor ears, "HA HA! Oh no Dear, I don't so. I am an old man now, I unfortunately missed the opportunity for a family years ago."
You and Toshinori had only briefly discussed children, you desperately wanting a child later on in your career and Toshinori feel although being Number 1 Hero made having kids not an option and that by the time he retired he was too old. It wasn't really a conversation you two had managed to find a conclusion to, so you were a little annoyed All Might was talking as if it had been decided.
"Well a lot of young ladies like older men, Sir. I know I sure do. And a lot of young ladies would be more than willing to bear The All Might's children." The reporter giggled and moved closer to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
She had never actually touched him before.
All Might chuckled uncomfortably and carefully leaned back to make her hand fall off him, but her hand stayed put. Without really thinking, you leaned over and picked up the foreign hand on your boyfriend's shoulder, and threw it back into the reporter's face. She almost punched herself in the face with her own hand.
You gasped and stood up, "Oh I'm sorry!"
You really didn't mean to do that. You were only trying to get her hands off your man. You hadn't meant you almost punch her.
She quickly fixed her hair and glasses and glared at you for only a split second, before laughing nervously and looking into the camera in front of all of you, "Oh Dear! No worries! We can edit that out, this isn't live."
The cameraman nodded at her and three of you continued your now incredibly awkward interview. All Might breathed a small sigh and grabbed your hand, you couldn't tell what the sigh was for.
—-///—-
Backstage you were sat at your vanity table with your head down on the desk, sighing sadly. You felt so embarrassed, you should of just left Toshinori handle her unnecessary touching. The interview went terribly after that and the reporter remained cold to you until the end.
You were also concerned about people questioning your actions, why were you so concerned about some girl touching All Might? It was such a obvious sign of jealously. Oh Well... at least she didn't touch him again.
A small knock was pressed against your dressing room door and without a response it was opened, "Darling?"
All Might.
He stepped into your room and closer the door behind him as you turned to face him. He immediately deflated in front of you, leaving his skinny scrawny figure in place.
"Hi Love." You sighed and walked over to him.
He quickly wrapped his long arms around you, pulled you close and began kissing your neck.
You blinked in shock, "Toshi?"
"Oh my Love. I never thought I'd ever see you jealous." He whispered against you before biting down on you skin.
You moaned in delight, "S-So you're not mad?"
"Why would I ever be mad Princess?" He laughed a bit, in his Skinny form his laugh sounded so good and didn't burst your eardrum.
Toshinori carefully walked you back over to your vanity table and placed you down in your vanity chair and stared down at you. You looked up at your lover with nothing but love and lust and crossing your legs, feeling yourself get hot down there.
With you sitting down and him standing in front of you, you could see the massive bulge in his pants. Whilst shamelessly staring at his covered dick, you hiked up your legs and pulled everything covering your lower half off and happily showed your lover your wet pussy. You felt no shame (he had seen it all before anyway), only the desire to be fucked. Finally, your filthy fantasy was coming true.
"Oh my Love..." Toshinori sighed again at the completely lewd sight of you and dropped to his knees.
He grabbed your thighs in his massive hands and gave your pussy a sweet kitten lick. You threw your head back and moaned again. He started kissing and licking you slowly before sucking.
God, his tongue felt good. You were going to lose yourself to it.
"Oh baby I want you so much..." Toshinori whispered in between eating you out, whilst pulling you closer and closer to his hungry mouth, scaring you for a brief second into thinking you'd fall out of the chair.
It was dangerous but Toshi wouldn't let you fall, ever.
You pulled his head up from your heat and he whined, "Toshi... I'm so empty now...you need to just fuck me..."
Your lewd expression and hushed tone only made him strain against his suit. Without thinking much, Toshinori stood up and ripped a hole into the crotch area of his Silver Age suit.
You gasped, "Toshi! Your suit!"
"This suit can be fixed, Dear. But later I'll need you to go to my dressing room and bring back something to wear when we're done." He smiled softly while pulling you up and out of the chair.
Toshinori picked up the chair by the armrests and placed it against the door, locking you both in. He turned back to you and smiled again.
You smiled back before turning against and bending over against the vanity table, giving your lover another nice view of your ass and pussycat. You watched him in the mirror grin at your behind and give you a nice loving smack. You bit your lip from the harsh contact and moved your legs further apart for him.
"Fuck..." Toshinori whispered, he was incredibly turned on by the sight of you bent over showing him everything you had to offer.
He quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out a Trojan, ripping the wrapper off with his teeth and pulling it down his proud length. You could tell by his fast movements, he was just as eager to get inside of you as you was.
Toshinori then rubbed your aching entrance with his great throbbing cock. You whined for him to just put it in and he was happy to appease you.
Toshinori always started with slow gentle strokes only with the tip but that wasn't good enough for you now, he had already worked you up from eating you out just a few seconds earlier and the idea of your fantasy had you too desperate now. So you whined again and tried to fuck yourself on his cock at the pace you need. Toshinori caught on pretty quickly and grabbed your hips and pulled you fully around him.
Both of you groaned from the sudden action. Toshinori began moving again, this time fast and rough. You managed to pick up your phone that you had left on the table, turn on the camera, point it at the mirror in front of you and hit record.
The sight was beyond erotic. The Number 1 Hero drilling his secret lover from behind in dressing room on set of a news station. God, it made you so wet. The grin on your face with your moans made it evident.
Because of the mirror, both of you were able to see each other's faces. Toshinori's brow full of sweat and mouth covered in your cum and his own salvia was godly. Not to mention his look of determination as he continued pounding you brought you closer and closer to edge.
"All Might!" You cried, not really hearing yourself over the sound of his balls slapping your cheeks.
But he heard you (and possibly some others in the building) and he groaned in your ear, "Princess! Oh my good little girl!"
Fuck!
He knew calling you 'little girl' made you crazy.
"Oh All Might please!" You begged.
You knew you sounded like a bad pornstar, but you didn't care. You knew Toshi loved it and was about to give into your begging.
But before he could, the worst thing you could imagine happened next. A loud knock on the door.
"Miss?"
Both you and Toshinori froze and stared at each other in the mirror in fear and shook.
"Y-Yes?!" You answered.
"Miss, your driver is here waiting for you. They are outside." It was likely one of the crew members of the station. They turned the door handle, shooting fear through you so bad you could scream, but it didn't open.
The chair Toshinori had put against the door temporarily saved you two. Realising this, he slowly began moving inside of you again. You moaned softly at the feeling and quickly covered your mouth with your free hand (hand not holding up your phone that was still recording).
The crew member must of wondered why the door wasn't opening, considering none of the dressing room doors had locks on them for safety reasons, but didn't ask why or for you to open the door and instead just let go of the handle.
"Oh o-okay...t-thank you. Out in a miiintue!" You quickly choked out.
"Great. Do you happen to know where Mr. All Might is? His car arrived first but he isn't in his dressing room."
"Nooo!" You whined.
You could see the see the evil smile on your boyfriend's face in the mirror. No question, you were going to (try to) kick his ass after this.
"Ok, no worries. Thank you for coming Miss!"
Footsteps were heard leaving the door, presumably to go find your man. Toshinori laughed slightly and pulled your head back by your hair and started moving at the same fast pace he was before.
You groaned at the small pain and glared up at your soulmate, "You like torturing me, asshole?"
"Maybe a little." He smiled.
"Oh please just make me cum, Toshinori." You sighed, giving him your best doe eyed desperate-for-sex expression.
Your lover was more than happy to fulfil your request. This was definitely by far would be the best sex tape you two ever made.
—///—
Later on the two of you were getting ready for better, you had finally finished your night skin care routine and was headed back to you and Toshinori's shared bedroom. He was still up reading a book in bed like usual, he looked and smiled when you walked into the room.
"Toshi," You began as you got comfortable in the bed, "What changed your mind today?"
"About what, Love?" He asked and put his book away to pull you closer to him.
"When I told you about my sex dream, you said it wouldn't happen." You pouted at him.
Toshinori's cheeks darkened, "Well, you got me all hot and bothered during the interview."
"How?" You raised an eyebrow.
"I like to see you handle touchy women for me." Toshinori smiled shyly now.
"Oh really?" You giggled, "You like having a jealous girlfriend?"
"A bit, yes." He admitted.
"Aw... maybe I should set them straight more often." You grinned and kissed his neck.
Toshinori shivered, both from the idea and the attention you was suddenly showing his neck, "Yes please...good girl."
You felt your heat burn at his words as well as his erection grow under the duvet and you eagerly wanted to head down under the duvet. But you both still had something to say.
"I'm sorry love, I was just a little scared about people finding out about us, and being intimate outside our home has got us caught before...and I feel like we already take a big risk with recording our moments together." Toshinori sighed.
"So you don't want to record anymore?" You looked heartbroken.
"Oh no, Princess! Of course not!" He pulled you into his lap and wrapped his arms around your waist (you could feel his lover's boner, which you wonder if he forgot about), "I love have something to remind myself of our best moments."
"We don't have to record anymore if you're worried it could get out." You replied, still looking sad.
"Honey, that's not what I was saying.." Toshinori kissed your head, "I love you and I love how excited you get by the camera. And I love watching our little videos."
You looked up at him, "I love you Toshi. And I just want you to be comfortable."
"I am comfortable, I'm always comfortable when I'm alone with you." Toshinori smiled.
You turned to look at him and kissed one of his sunken cheeks, "Ok... so if I keep your female fans in line... what will you do for me?"
"What do you want love?" Toshinori asked.
"I want a reward, All Might." You grinned and slowly stroked your lover's excited friend.
He shivered again. Mustering up all his strength, Toshinori transformed into All Might. His erection underneath you went from poking you ass to almost straight up penetrating you. A loud moan came from your throat, the ending of it was muffled from All Might gently pushing you off his lap and all the way down till you were face down onto the end of the bed and ass up.
The muscular blonde Silver Fox gently rubbed your ass with one hand whilst the other fought off this sweat pants (that did absolutely nothing to hide his lower reigns). Once his pants were off and his length was fully exposed, All Might picked up his phone from his nightstand, pointed the camera down at you and hit record.
"Little Princess... do you think my cock at full size is a good enough reward for being such a good girl for me?"
The camera got a very lovely shot of your wetness soaking through your sweatpants just from his words. You felt your cunt clench around nothing and you looked back at your lover.
"Yes please Daddy."
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hopelesslydevoted2paige · 7 months ago
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something angsty for paige where maybe yall are talking and then you see the live of her kissing azzi at the bar?? (make it gut wrenching pls)
CASUAL || PAIGE BUECKERS
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summary — paige makes drunken mistakes and you figure out where you both stand
pairings: paige bueckers x fem cheerleader!reader
word count: 418
warnings: cursing, angst
authors note: hii thanks for this request! i dont really know the full context of that live moment so i didnt really wanna write it without that much knowledge but heres something similar! i kinda wanna make a part 2 just lmk if u guys want me too 🫶 ill stop talking now rah hope u enjoy!
part 2
It was around 2 am, everyone in the room feeling buzzed and tipsy.
After another victory from the women’s basketball team, they had decided to invite the UConn dance team to go out and celebrate with them for the night.
“Yo, guys! We should play a game.” KK sat up and leaned forward.
“What game?” You spoke up, making eye contact with Paige.
For the past few weeks, you guys have been getting to know each other and spending time with each other. Paige was so sweet to you. She got you gifts, took you out on dates and even introduced you to her family. You were starting to question things since none of you made it official.
“Truth or dare. But!-” KK stood up and poured a shot. “If you don’t wanna answer or do the dare, you gotta take a shot.”
Everyone started to sit up, listening intently.
“Alright, let’s start with you Paige!” KK rubbed her hands together. “Truth or dare?”
“Dare.”
“I dare you to kiss the prettiest girl in the room.”
She scoffs. “Easy.”
Your grin widened as you realized she was walking to your direction, quickly dropping once she leaned in to kiss your teammate next to you.
“Ooh!” Everyone around you raised their eyebrows and laughed.
You felt like your heart dropped to your stomach. Did all of the gifts, kisses and the time you spent with each other mean nothing to her?
You cleared your throat. “I think im gonna head out. You guys have fun though.” You put on the best smile you could before grabbing your things and walking out.
“Get home safe!” Nika smiled warmly at you before glaring at Paige. “You’re a fucking asshole.”
Paige rolled her eyes. “What’d I do now?!”
Nika snatched the can from her hand. “You’re wasted. You’ve had too many shots and now you’re making stupid decisions.”
“Stop being such a killjoy Nika!”
“She’s done nothing but be there for you for the past 4 weeks!” She fumed. “You aren’t even going after her! Is she just nothing to you?!”
Paige stood up, rolling her eyes for what seemed like the tenth time tonight. “Whatever.”
She ran after you. “Y/N!”
You walked towards the taxi faster, wiping your tear-stained cheeks.
Paige jogged over to you, grabbing your arm. “Hey!”
You turned around, removing your arm from her hand. “What?”
“I’m sorry okay?” She slurred.
“Paige, I just don’t get it.” You sniffled. “You can’t treat me like im your girlfriend then go off kissing other girls!”
“Come on Y/N!” She groaned. “I thought we were just having fun! Playing around and being casual.”
You felt your chest tightening as she said those words. “Nice to know where we stand.”
“Wait Y/N-“
“Get home safe Paige. You’re wasted.”
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heart-of-the-morningstar · 9 months ago
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✨Dress Up, Part 2: The Ceremony✨
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Well well well, looks like you guys won. You get a continuation of this fic that was meant to be a one shot lmao! I had some awesome people to bounce ideas off of and I couldn't do this without them. I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's time for the wedding! But you know I can't go a chapter without writing a little smut hehe~
*** - Scene change ~~~ - Flashback
Part 1, Part 3, Part 4
Lucifer x f!sinner reader
Summary: It's wedding day! And Lucifer is more than willing to try and convince you to the leave the reception early...
Warnings: 18+, smut, hand job, oral (m receiving)
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"You know, if you don't quit your pacing back and forth, you're gonna wear out the carpet..."
***
It had only been a week since the proposal and the wedding was already here. But this is what you both wanted; a nice quiet wedding with only a handful of people with everyone else in Hell being none the wiser. You had to beg Lucifer for the week you got in between, he was practically ready to say "I do" once he put that engagement ring on your hand. It may have seemed like you two were moving a little bit fast considering most weddings take months, sometimes years to plan out! But when you're marrying the King of Hell, there really was next to nothing to worry about when it came to your special day.
The new hotel was the perfect venue, complete with a beautiful ballroom that could rival any chapel on Earth. The guest list was extremely exclusive consisting of only the occupants of the hotel, minus one Radio Demon, not that he would attend even if he was invited. It was Charlie who suggested that he protect the hotel today from any threat that might make itself known. On top of that, Charlie was more than happy to be the officiant, as being the Princess of Hell granted her that authority. Money was no object to the Morningstar family, so no expense was spared.
But regardless of any of that, Lucifer couldn't help but worry. You had one other request for him after he popped the question.
~~~
"I hate to ask more of you after asking for a week to prepare," you started, putting on the last of your clothes that you had discarded during your fun little teasing display, "but..." Lucifer approached you suddenly and held your hand in both of his.
"My love, you can ask of me anything you wish. There is no limit when it comes to you. You've already given me the best gift of becoming my future bride. Anything in my power is yours for the asking, you just name it!" He leaned down and planted a small kiss on the back of your hand. You couldn't help but blush, he never failed to charm you.
"This may sound a little odd, considering what just took place a few minutes ago," you breathed out a sigh, "but...what would you say to refraining from any...intense intimacy?" Lucifer cocked his eyebrow and smirked, seemingly intrigued. "B-but only for this week, I promise! Kissing and cuddling would still be on the table, of course. And no deliberate teasing from me, that wouldn't be fair. I was just thinking that...I want our first night as a married couple to be special. And I figured holding off for the time in between would only heighten the experience. If that's not something you want, I completely understand that-MMPH," you were silenced by Lucifer's soft lips on yours.
"Oh darling, was that all?," he flashed his signature toothy grin at you. "That's hardly a request! I think that's a wonderful idea...n-not that I don't want to ravish you at any given time! But you're right, I couldn't imagine a better honeymoon than getting the chance to feel you again after being denied for a few days, even though it may feel like an eternity. I'll be on my best behavior; you have my word!"
~~~
And Lucifer was on his best behavior, for the most part, at least. There were a few instances where his hands had traveled a little too low on your body and some kisses became deeper than they should have. But both of you managed to make it through the week! But today was the day, and his anxiety was at an all-time high. You decided to sleep in separates rooms the night before, wanting the next time you saw each other to be at the altar. That was the plan, at least.
It had been a while since Lucifer had slept alone. Suffice to say he couldn't sleep. He assured you that he would be alright sleeping alone for just one night, but that ended up being easier said than done. The empty bed he laid in brought back painful memories of his first night without Lilith, something that still haunted him to this day. There would be times where Lucifer would wake up in a cold sweat, only to glance over to see you peacefully asleep, and he could breathe again. Anytime you felt him tug you closer to him in the middle of the night, you knew what had woken him up. He never hid his feelings from you when he confided in you about his ex, and you didn't mind that he would wake you when his nightmares overwhelmed him. You loved him and he loved you. You would never leave. So when you heard your door creek open in the middle of the night to see your fiancé standing ion the door frame, you only smiled and gestured him to you.
~~~
"I-I'm sorry," he sobbed quietly, "I tried...I really did...I-I had a dream, a nightmare, you were there but you started to fade away in front of me. I reached out but it was no use. I woke up and…and you weren’t there, I panicked…I’m so s-sorry…”
"Hey, hey, shh, it's alright," you soothed and brought him into a tight embrace. You felt a tear that had fallen from his face make its way down your collarbone. "Don't cry, Luci, I'm not upset, not at all." You lifted his head up to wipe away his remaining tears. "Let's get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow." You planted a kiss on his forehead, and from the dim red light that shown through your windows, you could see a small smile appear on his face. He laid down, his back facing you as you wrapped your arms around him and brought him flush to your chest. You could hear his breathing start to even about again.
"I don't deserve you," he murmured.
"You know I think the same thing every day," you respond.
He interlaced his fingers with yours at your words, squeezing you hand softly. "Promise me you'll never think that again. Please. You deserve everything and more."
"Alright," you conceded, kissing the back of his head, "as long as you promise me the same thing. You're my everything, and I'll spend the rest of my afterlife showing you that."
"Okay," he spoke weakly. You intertwined your legs with his, bringing yourself as close to him as possible. "I still intend to keep my other promise. I'll be gone before you wake up."
"You can stay as long as you need to," you whispered before drifting off to sleep once more.
~~~
True to his word, Lucifer had managed to sneak away before you woke. After adorning his typical attire, he found himself wandering the halls of the hotel, finally stopping when he reached the lobby. Thinking he was alone, Lucifer started talking to himself and paced back and forth like a madman.
"Was this a mistake? Are we moving too fast? No, no, no it's alright, it's fine! We're fine! Get a fucking GRIP, Lucifer! You're panicking for nothing! She loves you...right? Yes, yes of course she does! Why would she say yes to you?! Unless...NO! No, none of that! Relax! Need to relax..."
"You know, if you don't quit your pacing back and forth, you're gonna wear out the carpet," Husk remarked, attempting to get Lucifer's attention in his anxious state.
"WHAT THE-" Lucifer shrieked hearing the bartender's voice. After seeing Husk standing behind the bar, he breathed out a sigh of relief and clutched his hand to his rapidly beating heart. "Geez, warn a guy next time!" Husk huffed and returned to cleaning the whiskey glass he held in his hand. "How, uhh, how much of that did you hear?"
"Enough to know that you're a fucking mess right now," the cat demon replied, setting down his now clean glass. "Perhaps you need a bartender to talk to."
"Uhh, alright?" Lucifer made his way over to the bar and took a tentative seat on one of the stools.
"This is about your girl, ain't it?" Husk correctly guessed, "about the wedding?" Lucifer sighed and nodded. "Mhmm. You love this gal, don't you?"
"Yes, of course I do!" Lucifer answered almost defensively. "She's...my everything!"
Husk picked up another dirty glass to clean. "And has she given you any reason to doubt that she feels the same way?"
Lucifer huffed. "Well, I...no, no she hasn't. She's always been there for me. Listening to my ramblings, making me laugh, consoling me during the worst times, like last night...she's...she's just perfect!"
"So what's the holdup?" Husk asked after setting the other glass down.
"It's not as simple as you're making it out to be, Husker," Lucifer retorted, pushing his way back from the bar. "I loved Lilith with all of my heart and soul. And she said...that she loved me too. But then one day, she was just gone. Vanished. We fell together. We built a life here TOGETHER! And she just leaves? It's like the last 10,000 years together meant absolutely NOTHING!" Lucifer ran his hands through his hair, trying to keep his composure. "I-I can't lose her like like I lost Lilith. I just can't! I just want to be enough for her. I don't know what I would do if she...", he couldn't finish his sentence. He sat back down at the bar, resting his head in his arms. "The pain would break me..."
The sound of a glass sliding across the counter top caught Lucifer's attention. When he lifted his head, he noticed a full glass of scotch sitting next to him. "Calms the nerves," Husk spoke. Lucifer let out a deep breath and took a swig, choking slightly in the process not realizing how strong it was.
"Not much of a drinker," Lucifer admitted, setting the glass down.
"Sir, if I may..." Husk began.
"You can call me Lucifer," the angel smiled slightly.
Husk smirked. "Lucifer, all I can tell you that love is a vulnerable emotion. I understand that you're afraid. Afraid that history will repeat itself, that your love is not meant to be, and that you're going to end up alone all over again." Lucifer's face sunk, lowering his head against his arms once more. "But," Husk continued, "I know one thing for sure. That girl up there ain't Lilith."
Lucifer raised his head, now hanging onto every word from the bartender.
"If anybody thinks you aren't enough, that's their own fucking problem. And I can tell you that your girl ain't like that at all. She adores ya, can't get her to shut up about ya! Hell, I couldn't even tell you why she ended up down here in the first place! Another one of Heaven's fuck ups, for sure. But for your sake, I'm glad she did." Husk reached over and gulped down Lucifer's unfinished glass of scotch. "Be a shame if it went to waste."
Lucifer let out the smallest of laughs. "Thank you, Husker. And you're right, even in this God forsaken pit, she manages to make it just a little bit brighter. She saved me. And I'm going to devote every moment of my immortal life to her."
"Good to hear. Now..." Husk slammed his hand down on the counter, "get your shit together and go get ready! You got a wedding to attend."
*** You startled awake with the sound of knocking at your door. Your mind was still foggy, brief memories of last night flooded through your head. "Lucifer?" you sat up and looked around your room, but he was already gone, leaving you alone in an empty bed. He had kept his promise after all. There was another set of knocks at the door. "Coming!" you shouted as you ran to grab the robe you had left on the armchair. You opened the door to see Charlie bouncing giddily.
“Good moooorrrrnnniiiinnnngggggg~” she practically sang. “Did you sleep well? Are you ready for your big day?? Are we forgetting anything???” She rapid fired questions at you while you were still rubbing the crust from your eyes.
“Charlie, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re more excited than I am,” you joked, gesturing her to come in. “In order: Yes, I slept…well. Yes, I’m ready...mentally speaking. And no, we’re definitely not forgetting anything. You’re the most meticulous and thoughtful person I know, you definitely have everything planned to a tee! You practically leapt out of your skin when we asked if you would officiate.”
"Aww, thank you!" Charlie smiled as she skipped into your room. "And of course! I would never turn down such an opportunity! Being the princess of Hell does have its perks! You can never be too prepared, ya know? Especially for a day that's so wonderful and magical and full of love!" You saw tears welling up in her eyes out of pure joy.
"Hey now, I thought I was the one that was supposed to be crying today!" you joked.
"Right, right! Sorry!" She wiped the tears from her eyes and grabbed your hands excitedly. "Let's get your hair and make up done!"
Charlie dragged you over to the vanity and sat you down in the chair. You weren't one to wear much makeup typically, but Charlie insisted. And when Charlie asks for something, it's pretty much impossible to tell her no. So you obliged. But you made her promise that she would not go overboard, only the basics. Thankfully you showered the night before, so your hair just needed a good brush through. Charlie grabbed the hairbrush and began to comb through your hair, gently pulling out the knots out of the nasty case of bed head you were sporting. She truly was the kindest soul you've ever met. But that didn't stop you from feeling a little awkward.
"Charlie," you mumbled, "can I-oww...can I ask you something?"
"Yes, absolutely!" She grabbed the the already plugged-in curler and started working on adding some volume to your hair.
"Are...are you sure you're alright with this?" you asked timidly. "I mean...me and your father. I just don't want you to think I'm trying to, you know...replace your mother. I know I don't know much about her or your relationship but..."
Charlie put down the curler and kneeled down next to you, gently grabbing your hand. "You don't need to worry about that! I promise, it's alright with me. It's more than alright, actually! I haven't seen my dad this happy in a long, long time. He loves you so much! You wanna know how I know that? Because he tells me. Every single day. His eyes light up when anybody mentions your name! And I know you would never do anything to hurt him, or me. You're too kind and good hearted for that. I know it may feel like you're inserting yourself into the picture, but I'm more than happy to have you as part of our family! I know the love you have for my dad is genuine, and I wouldn't change a thing!"
A smile formed on your face. "Thank you, Charlie."
"Now," Charlie hopped up from the floor and grabbed the large make up bag sitting on the counter, “time to make magic happen! I have the perfect idea! Close your eyes and no peaking until I say so!”
*** You could feel your heart beating out of your chest as you stood in front of the closed ballroom doors. You knew just on the other side of that door was the love of your life, and he was waiting for you. Husk linked your arm with his, flashing you a warm smile. "You ready?"
You let out a few shaky breaths before you could answer him. "Y-yes."
"Don't worry, I gotcha," he comforted, "one step at a time, alright? Trust me, whatever you're feeling now, he was in much worse shape this morning. Nearly had to kick his ass to the altar myself. But I straightened him out for ya."
You could help but laugh. "Thanks, Husk. And thank you for walking me down. I know this isn't really a traditional wedding, but I appreciate everything you and everyone else have done for us."
"No thanks is necessary," Husk replied, "for what you do for Charlie and the hotel, it's the least I can do. You're a good one to be sure. And the King is damn lucky to have ya." You smiled and tightened your grip on Husk's arm as you heard the faint sound of music start to play on the other side. "It's time."
Without another word, the large wooden doors opened in front of you, and the music could be heard much more clearly now. The Bridal Chorus. Husk waited on your command as you took the first step. You scanned the room. You saw Vaggie and Cherri standing to one side, Angel off to the other, while Niffty skipped in front of you throwing a mix of flower petals and roaches. You noticed Charlie straight ahead of you in a lovely blue suit, a color you've never seen her wear before. You also took notice to the fact there didn't seem to be any organ in the room, despite the music that continued to play as you walked. You guessed it was some of Lucifer's magic. He really knew how to set the scene for the occasion.
Finally, your eyes found Lucifer. He looked at you as if you were the most angelic being he's ever laid his eyes on. You couldn't quite make out the details of his face yet, but you could tell that tears had begun rolling down his face. You saw his suit for the first time. A beautiful black velvet suit with embroidered gold detailing on the jacket. He looked like royalty.
Lucifer stared back at you, fighting every urge in his body to run to you and scoop you up in his arms. Your dress was immaculate. A stunning flowing sleeveless white dress adorned with fluffy scarlet feathers that were scattered across the skirt and completely covered the bodice. An homage to your future husband. You were only a few feet from him now. His smile could have lit the darkest of rooms. The tears continued to flow from his eyes, and you could feel tears threatening to leave yours as well.
"Deep breaths," Husk murmured to you before stepping to the side to join Angel. You inhaled deeply, holding your breath until you stood directly in front of Lucifer, only exhaling when he reached out and held your hands in his.
The music stopped. Your heartbeat was the only thing you could hear now.
Charlie cleared her throat. "Dearly beloved, we're gathered here today to join these two souls before us in holy matrimony. I understand that the couple have written their own vows." Charlie glanced your way and beamed. "Ladies first!" You smiled back at her then turned your full attention to Lucifer, staring lovingly and longingly into his eyes. You had spent the entire week practicing and memorizing your words for this very moment. You breathed in, and you breathed out.
"Lucifer, words cannot begin to describe how you make me feel. You have shown me so much compassion, understanding, care, and adoration that I had never experienced on Earth. My promise to you is that I will always stay by your side, I will never abandon you, and I will love you for the rest of my after life. You've changed my life for the better, and I will make sure that I do the same for you. You are my one true love, forever and always. I love you, my angel."
Lucifer pulled one of his hands away to wipe away the tears the refused to stop flowing. Angel pulled out a handkerchief and brought it over to him and began patting it across his cheeks. You looked at Charlie who had also started to cry. She quickly composed herself and turned towards her father. "D-Dad?" she squeaked out.
Once Lucifer was able to compose himself, he took hold of your hands once more. "My love, I have existed since before the dawn of creation. And in my thousands of years of existence, no one has brought me as much joy as you have. You came into my life suddenly, like a thief in the night, and stole my most precious possession. My heart. It is yours now, for eternity and even beyond. I promise that you will never know another day of sadness, of heartbreak, or of loneliness. My devotion to you is boundless and unfathomable and never ending. I am yours. I love you, my queen."
Razzle appeared in front of the two of you, displaying the silver wedding rings for each of you. You and Lucifer took your respective ring to to place on the other's hand.
"Lucifer," Charlie spoke through her sniffles "will you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife; will you love, honor, and cherish her, hold her up in the good times and the bad, for as long as you both shall live?"
"I do, forever," he answered, sliding the ring onto your finger.
Charlie turned and repeated the question to you.
"Yes, I do," you proclaimed, sliding the ring onto his hand in the same manner.
"By the power vested in me, as princess of Hell, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."
You and Lucifer smiled at each other, no longer able to hold back any of your tears. Lucifer cupped your face and brought your lips to his for a tender kiss. You heard the cheers from the others in the room, and you definitely heard Angel whistle as your lips connected. When you pulled apart, something had caught your eye. Your rings were glowing. Magic in the form of golden dust surrounded each of them, swirling around the metal bands.
"What's this?" You asked Lucifer, who didn't seem alarmed at all.
He chuckled. "You're the new Queen of Hell, my darling. This magic is a symbol. It signifies that you are no longer bound by the rules that govern the sinners; you are bound to me. You have free reign to travel anywhere you wish, including the other rings of Hell. You're now one of the most powerful beings in the realm! But we can get into the finer details later; for now," Lucifer pecked your lips once again, "let's celebrate!"
After wiping away her excessive tears, Charlie cleared her throat. "Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce to you for the first time ever, Mr. and Mrs. Morningstar!" The crowd cheered as you walked hand in hand with your husband back down the aisle.
"Who's ready to fucking PARTY?!" Cherri yelled behind you as you all made your way towards the bar in the lobby.
Drinks poured at the reception, everyone was cutting lose and having fun! You two had decided to partake in as many traditional reception activities as you could! Neither of you knew how you ended up with so much cake all over yourselves, but it was alright considering Lucifer easily snapped his fingers and both of you ended up back in pristine condition. You invited everyone to participate in the bouquet toss, but it was Vaggie who ended up with the flowers in the end. She absolutely failed to hide her blush from Charlie who was jumping for joy! But this next tradition was something Lucifer had really been looking forward to; the garter belt toss.
Ever the showman, Lucifer hiked up your dress to your thigh and rather than using his hands, he decided to use his teeth to pull the garment down. His head lingered near your thigh way longer than necessary, and you could Angel snickering as Lucifer dragged it down the length of your leg.
"Oh, you're gonna get it," you leaned down to whisper to him, hoping no one else could hear.
"Is that a threat or a promise?" Lucifer retorted with the garter belt still between his teeth.
To no one's surprise, Angel was the one to catch the belt once Lucifer finally tossed it.
The reception was going off without a hitch. Everyone was having the time of their lives getting plastered and gorging themselves on the enormous buffet Lucifer hand conjured up. You had changed out of your wedding dress into a new purple dress; the lavender one that you really liked that you had tried on a week ago before you got yanked out of the dressing room by a certain horny angel. Thankfully, you two were able to go back to the store the next day to properly purchase it. You and Lucifer were given your own large round table so you wouldn't have to sit at the crowded bar. Luckily for Lucifer, this gave him easy access to you. As the reception went on and with no one being the wiser, Lucifer's hand found your thigh once more, gliding it up ever so slowly before you shot him a knowing glance.
"What do you say we leave early," he proposed innocently, "I have a wonderful surprise for my new bride once we're on our honeymoon."
You playfully grabbed Lucifer's wandering hand and pushed it down towards your knee. "Luci, it's only been an hour! You can't tell me you can't wait just a little longer, can you?"
Lucifer stuck out his lip and pouted sweetly. "Oh, but my love, have you forgotten? It's been an entire week! And you know how well behaved I've been, I am nothing if not a man of my word." You felt his hand begin its ascent on your leg once more. You didn't stop him. "But I can only be a gentleman for so long..."
You didn't want to admit it, but you were in the same boat as well. That week apart had been almost tortuous. But you were more than willing to wait until the party was over. Your husband, however, appeared to have a different idea.
Alright then.
Before his hand could climb any higher, your hand shot down immediately to his crotch. Lucifer bit back a yelp as he felt you palm him through his pants. His hand stopped all motion, but instead started digging into your thigh, ultimately trying to remain calm. But that task seemed nearly impossible with the way your hand continued its ministrations, his pants feeling tighter and tighter with every passing second.
"D-Darling, please..." he begged through his clenched teeth.
You grinned wickedly. "You want me to take care of you, Luci?" He nodded his head vigorously. "We're not leaving early. But, I'll help you out as a good wife should, yeah?" Lucifer panted, his nails now dangerously close to breaking through your skin. "Head to the restroom just down the hall. Give me a minute and I'll follow you. I'll knock three times to let you know it's me. I have a plan. No touching yourself, understand?"
"Y-Yes," he breathed. When he was sure no one was looking, he stood up from his chair as fast as possible before making his way down the hall. Once you saw him disappear around the corner, it was time to give yourself some cover.
"Angel!" you yelled across the room, waving your hands to flag him down. The spider demon turned his head and smiled. He said something inaudible to Cherri before making his way over to you.
"Hey there, pretty lady!" Angel bent over and folded is first pair arms on the table, "Congratulations on the new gig! Being Queen of Hell sure is a status boost!"
"Yeah, I still need time to process that," you admitted. "So Angel, can you umm, do me a favor?"
Angel stood up and slicked his hair back. "Oh, anything for the new member of the royal family! What can I do ya for, doll face?"
You let out a shaky breath. "Can you...how do I say this...cause some sort of distraction?" Angel raised an eyebrow. "I just need to take care of something real quick."
"Uh huh," Angel chuckled, "you need to take care of something? Or someone?~" You pursed your lips, a light blush dashed across your cheeks. You really should have known better than to try and tiptoe around your means of leaving with Angel. "That's what I thought. Don't think I didn't notice the King almost sprint out of here just now. Man is absolutely smitten with ya! But you'll get no judgement from me, baby, I know how it is! Consider this your wedding gift, I typically end up being the most distracting person wherever I go! How much time do you need?"
"Five minutes?"
"Oh honey, I think you're giving him way too much credit, especially considering the state he's in." Angel laughed, "I can give you three."
"Four."
"Deal," Angel stuck a hand out for you to shake. He was ready to turn away when he flashed you a wink. "Get ready!"
As soon as you heard Angel shout loud enough to grab everyone's attention, you got up from the table and followed Lucifer's path down the hall. Once you stood in front of the restroom door, you knocked on it three times just as you said you would. It took less than a second for the door to swing open and for Lucifer to pull you inside. He locked the door behind you and crashed his lips into yours. You pushed him up against the door as you slipped your tongue further into his mouth. He was devouring you as his hands gripped your hips.
"We don't have a lot of time," you said breathlessly, "we have four minutes."
"How did-HHNG," Lucifer wanted to question until you began to palm at his now very apparent erection through his pants again.
"Let's just say I owe Angel big time." You started to fumble with Lucifer's belt, pulling it off of his pants with a quick flick of your arm. Your hands worked at the button and zipper of his pants next, going almost too fast for you to properly hold anything. You gripped the hem of his pants and boxers and were about to pull them down together until Lucifer grabbed your wrists.
"Wait, wait! What about you?" he asked. Even in such a lust filled state, he still only ever thought about you. God, you really hit the jackpot.
You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I appreciate it hon, but we really don't have the time to argue about this. Four minutes, remember? Probably closer to three now." You pulled your hands away from Lucifer's grip and went back to the hem of his pants, pulling down his boxers in the process, finally freeing his hardened cock that was already leaking precum. You placed your hands on either side of his hips, his back flush against the door. "You better tell me what you want quickly, Luci."
Lucifer gulped hard, staring at you through half-lidded eyes. "T-touch me...please...n-need you..."
Without another word, you moved to stand at Lucifer's side as your one hand gripped his shaft while the other cupped his mouth to keep him from making too much noise. "Shh, gotta be quiet, my love. You don't want the others to hear how your queen makes you feel." He nodded his head silently as you began to stroke him. You watched as precum dripped onto the floor below; it was obvious how pent up he was. You quickly picked you the pace as your hand moved up and down his cock, thumbing over the tip only for Lucifer to mewl into your hand and buck up into your touch. His breathing became more and more staggered by the second, he wasn't going to last much longer at this rate. But you knew you were running out of time and your hands alone were not going to be enough to finish the job. "Not a sound," you commanded as you released your hand from his mouth, dropping to your knees in an instant. Before Lucifer could protest, your mouth had already full engulfed his length. He threw his own hand over his mouth to muffle his screams as best he could. Your head bobbed up and down rapidly on his cock while stopping every few seconds to lap circles around his tip. He was close.
"F-Fuu-uuccckk," he whimpered, "I-I'm g-mmph...gonna c-cum...shitshitSHIT!" And almost on cue, you felt him empty himself inside you. Strings of hot cum hit that back of your throat while you continued to suck him off, helping him ride out his orgasm. Once he was finished, you let his now softened dick fall from your lips, not letting a single drop leave your mouth. You gracefully stood up and grabbed his belt that you had flung earlier and handed it to him.
"Feel better?" you whispered in his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.
He turned his head to meet your lips once more. He always loved the taste of him on your mouth. "Immeasurably," Lucifer moaned into you.
"And only with a few seconds to spare!" Lucifer buckled his pants once more while you walked over to the sink and began soaking one of the wash cloths in cool water. You dabbed the towel on his forehead, attempting to cool him down. "Can't have you looking so disheveled, my king."
"I promise to make this up to you," Lucifer swore. "You should never be left unsatisfied."
You smiled and kissed him on the forehead sweetly. "My satisfaction is knowing I'm the only one who can pull those beautiful sounds out of you." Lucifer could help but look away from you in embarrassment. "Now, if you promise to behave for the rest of the party, let's just say I have a...proposition for you later tonight. I know exactly how you can pay me back." You unlocked the bathroom door and held it open for him. "Let's not keep our guests waiting!"
~~~
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IT'S SO FUCKING LATE RIGHT NOW HOLY GOD I WAS ON A ROLL I DIDN'T WANT TO STOP! I hope you guys are ready for the honeymoon ;)
Taglist: @ask-theradio-demon @kermitdafroggy @thonethatflies620 @luc1fersducky @a-okay-rj @bat-boness @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis @misfitgirlwrites @animationmovieshipps @orbitinglumps @ramenkitten @blaackbiird @bigfatbimbo @lucisaspen @bvnnyangel @seulace9 @fluffypinkpillows @starlightdreaming @k-n0-x @rosen-und-mondlicht @raindropsfromheaven @slutforlucifermorningstar (I'm sorry if I missed anyone!)
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lvis44 · 7 days ago
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Cabin Fever - Pt. 2 // LH44
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Lewis Hamilton x Y/N
Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol Consumption, Angst, Lewis being an ass, allusions to mental health struggles, 18+ MINORS DNI, not edited
Word Count: 5.3k+
Summary: He's your Sister in Laws best friend, you shouldn't even have to deal with him. Always seeming like a cocky arrogant prick, and now here he is crashing your family Christmas. Can you handle a full week of Lewis Hamilton? Or might he not actually be as bad as he seems?
Notes: Part two for you lovelies! I don't have much to say other than I am already working on part 3 and writing lewis as a bit of an ass is quite fun! As always ignore the fact that I cannot keep a tense for the life of me, Im grateful you guys seem to love me anyways lmao.
As always, I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy!
Your room is freezing when you wake in the morning, the room eerily silent. You groan, rolling over to grab your phone while trying to keep as much of the comforter over you as possible.
“Fuck.” You mumble to yourself when you see that your phone hasn’t been charging all night, despite being plugged in.
You sit up, looking around the room, reaching over to flick on the lamp beside your bed, nothing. You evidently lost power overnight. You're surprised that in a house this lush there isn’t already a generator going but you suppose someone needs to start it, or it only powers certain things. One thing you know for certain is your room is freezing. You make your way out of bed and over to the fireplace in your room, hoping there is wood nearby to warm you up. You can’t help but let out another groan when you see the electric starter on the gas fireplace, no use if the power is out. You decide to go see if the rest of the house is a little warmer, or if you can at least be miserable with someone else. You rummage through your suitcase to find a warmer set of pajamas, settling on a thick pair of flannels that have kept you warm for nearly a decade. Once you've changed you grab the throw blanket off the back of the nearby chair, wrapping it around you like a cape and decide to make your way down into the house.
The house is completely silent as you wander down the stairs, evident that everyone else is still asleep. It doesn’t surprise you, you haven’t been good at sleeping recently, always waking up much earlier than you would like to. You imagine everyone else stayed up for a while after you disappeared to your room the night before, possibly all nursing a slight hangover this morning with the amount they could drink from your experience. You quietly make your way to the one room you had become familiar with the night before, the den. You stop in your tracks the moment you enter the room, surprised to find Lewis on the couch. He’s got a blanket draped across his legs and a large fire going in the fireplace in front of him. You stand frozen in the doorway for a moment, not sure if you should join him or run back to your room to avoid interaction. You finally decide it's far too cold to let his arrogant attitude keep you from getting a little bit warmer. Before you risk settling into the den alongside him you decide to go in search of a way to possibly make a warm beverage. As you make your way past him and towards the kitchen you mutter out your most polite “good morning” to which you only receive a subtle hum, almost as if he didn’t even know the sound had left his body. You roll your eyes, a constant with him around, finally making your way into the kitchen to rummage. Nothing in the kitchen works and even the hot water heater seems to be electric, the water coming from the pipes being ice cold.
“There’s a kettle on the fire, tea bags and mugs are next to the coffee maker.” Lewis’ voice calls out through the quiet house. You can’t help but wonder for a moment if someone else has woken up and he is directing them instead but as you stand there you hear nothing else. You quickly grab a tea bag and a mug, making your way back to the den and the warmth of the fire as rapidly as possible.
“Thanks.” You say quietly, offering him a small smile.
“Yeah,” He says, his gaze never leaving the fire in front of him, “should be ready in a second.”
“Okay.” You nod, settling on the floor in front of the fire despite the many cush couches and seats available.
The two of you sit in silence much to your pleasure, perfectly content to listen to the crackle of the fire instead of jabs and insults from the man behind you. The sound of him getting up from his seat draws you out of the trance that the soothing fire had put you in. It takes you a moment to realize that he is grabbing the kettle, the sound of water bubbling now coming over the sound of the crackling wood. He wordlessly fills his mug, setting the kettle and pot holder down on the hearth in front of you before moving back to his seat on the couch. You lean forward to grab the kettle, your blanket falling from your shoulders as you do so, exposing you to the still rather chilly air. You can feel his eyes on you as you pour your water and you can’t help but assume he has taken note of your worn out flannel pajamas, having noticed that he was dressed in what appeared to be a brand new Dior sweatsuit. Once you return the kettle to the hearth and adjust your blanket you turn to look at him over your shoulder, a deep smirk evident on his features.
“What?” You ask, your tone already argumentative.
“The second your blanket fell you started grumbling about winter and being cold. Not a fan I take it?” He chuckles.
You hadn’t even realized you were complaining as you made your tea, your cheeks flushing slightly at the realization.
“Moved away from it for a reason.” You mumble, returning your attention to the fire in front of you.
He doesn’t respond, allowing you to both sit in silence and enjoy the warmth and peaceful air before your family swarms the house. Just as you finish your tea you hear him start to move behind you, catching your attention. You glance back to him, seeing him folding up the blanket he had been using. 
He notices your attention, turning toward you after he throws the blanket over the couch, “Snow looks like it’s finally stopped, gonna go out and shovel so I can finally get out of your hair.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes at his comment, choosing to move past it, “Dylan has a plow, he’ll be up soon.”
“It’s blocked in the garage, gotta at least shovel our cars out before we can get it out.” He tells you, grabbing his phone from the table and walking away towards his room just off the den.
His habit of leaving the room without a final thought or exit bugs you more than it should, just another thing that makes him seem arrogant and aloof. You decide to just settle in again in front of the fire, more than happy to allow him to dig the plow out of the garage, you figure he’ll appreciate the workout anyway. It doesn’t take long until you hear him reammerge from his room, the sound of snow pants swishing behind you. You focus on the sounds of him putting on his boots in the foyer mixed with the subtle murmurs of people waking up throughout the house, disappointed that your silence has come to an end. Not long after you hear Lewis shut the front door, your dad is appearing in the den, a thick robe over his pajamas.
“Hey Kiddo, how long have you been up?” He asks, his voice pleasantly quiet.
“Maybe an hour or so, honestly not sure.” You say, leaning slightly towards him as he bends down to squeeze your shoulder.
“Power has been out since you got up?” His voice stays soft as he sits down in a chair near you.
You hum, nodding before gesturing to the kettle still sitting in front of the fire, “There might still be some warm water in there if you want to make some tea or something.��
“It’s a nice fire you’ve got going here.” He tells you as he gets up to check the kettle.
“Lewis had it going when I got up.” You admit, unsure why you bothered, probably so it didn’t come up later.
“Where is he?” Your dad asks, wandering into the kitchen to find a mug.
“He just went out to shovel, I guess the plow is blocked in the garage, we’ve gotta move cars or something before we can get it out.” You tell him as he emerges with only a tea bag, stealing your empty cup from the table beside you making you laugh, “Yes, I’m done, thank you for asking.”
Your dad just chuckles, pouring himself a cup of tea, leaving your used bag in the cup, “Well after I get some caffeine in me I’ll head out to help him, there’s a ton of snow out there and it sounded like it was going to be really wet.”
“Dad, no, I’ll go change and we can force Dylan to help when he gets up.” You immediately argue, not wanting to go shovel with Lewis in the slightest but far too aware of your fathers back problems to allow him to shovel after a storm like this.
“I’m not a cripple, Y/N, I take care of our house back home during the winter, I’m perfectly capable of helping out here.” Your fathers voice is stern, his choice of words causing you to cringe.
“I know, I just, I worry about you, I don’t want you to be in pain for the holidays. Lewis is an athlete and Dylan and I are still young enough that we can bounce back. Just stay inside and help keep Tom sane while Beatrice and Vanessa freak out.” You try to reason with him, your voice quieting towards the end of your argument, unaware of who may be awake at this point.
“Fine, but if you guys need any help you let me know. Maybe I can get your brother's generator running, I would be shocked if he didn’t have one with all this.” He concedes, gesturing around to the lavish yet dark house surrounding you.
“Yeah, I was surprised there wasn’t something for the heat at least, seems very unlike Dylan.” You say, still confused by the complete lack of backup power.
Before your father can even respond you hear Vanessa's voice coming down the stairs, shrill and unforgiving for the hour of the morning.
“It’s all out Dylan, the tree in the foyer isn’t even on!” Vanessa's voice is grating, causing you and your father to exchange a look.
“Babe, it’s okay, I’m sure it will be back on soon.” Dylan's voice follows behind her. You can tell he’s only just woken up, not ready for this much drama.
“You put on the kettle for Dylan, I’m gonna go shovel.” You tell your dad with a pat on the shoulder, a teasing yet knowing smirk on your face.
“Sounds more like a whiskey kind of morning for him.” Your dad murmurs, making you laugh as you leave the room.
You can hear Vanessa freaking out in the kitchen, you manage to narrowly escape any interaction and make your way to your room to bundle up to head out to shovel.
Once you step outside you can feel just how much the temperature has dropped from the night before, your nostrils immediately stinging. You burrow your face further into your jacket, grabbing one of the shovels off of the porch and making your way down to the driveway. You notice that Lewis has made good headway so far, the porch and path fully cleared off as well as his car. Much to your surprise when you step around his tall Mercedes, you’re met with him cleaning off your small rental. 
“Is somebody dying inside?” Lewis asks when he notices your presence.
“What?” You ask, caught off guard.
“I know you’re not out here for my company Y/N, what's up?” He pries, not looking at you as he finishes removing the snow from your car before throwing the scraper in the back of his car again.
“Uh, I just came out to help.” You tell him, awkwardly holding up your shovel in his direction.
He looks in your direction, his eyebrows slightly raised in a surprised and disbelieving expression, “Okay then.”
He doesn’t say anything else, picking up his shovel from where he’d rested it in the snow bank and continuing to dig out your car. You follow his lead, beginning to chip away at the pile in front of the garage. You feel like you’re barely doing anything as you watch his large shovel fulls fly into the yard, making the snow you’re moving look like a joke.
“Thanks for cleaning off my car.” You say, trying your best to be polite.
He just shrugs, a grunt leaving his chest as he throws a particularly heavy load of snow, “Need to move it anyway.”
You just nod, continuing to shovel in silence. He has your car completely freed from the snow and is onto shoveling out a parking space off to the side by the time that you finish the small patch in front of the garage, you feel like your help is barely needed but you figure it’s better than nothing. Much to your surprise Lewis is the one to break the silence next.
“Is V inside freaking out?” He asks, leaning against his shovel to catch his breath for a moment.
You laugh quietly, nodding, not wanting to say anything that may make him defensive over his friend.
“Yeah, I kinda figured,” He says, returning to moving snow, “she can be like that when things aren’t perfect.”
You just nod, very aware of exactly what he is talking about. Only a few moments pass before you hear his voice again.
“Grab our keys from inside? Mine are in the bowl by the front door.” His question is barely a question, more of a demand but you just nod, figuring he’s doing all of the heavy lifting anyway.
When you step in the front door, Dylan is quick to rush into the entryway, “Hey, I’ll get the plow out, you guys really don’t need to keep shoveling.” His face is apologetic but you can tell he’s stressed.
“It’s alright, we’re just gonna move our cars so you can get the plow out.” You tell him, grabbing the keys from the table.
“Okay, thank you, tell Lewis thank you too. I’ll be out to plow once everything calms down a little bit in here.” He says, pulling you into a hug.
“Take your time, I think we’ll be in soon.” You say as you pull away, squeezing his arm with a sympathetic smile.
Back outside Lewis has successfully cleared out enough space for both of your cars to move to and get the plow out of the garage.
“Which one do you want me to move to?” You ask him, approaching him with his keys out for him.
“I’ve got it, you can go inside.” He says, pushing off from where he had been leaning against his car, taking his keys and waiting for yours.
“It’s fine, I can move a car, Lewis.” You say with a bit of a huff.
“I know Y/N, but I’ve got it.” He says back, annoyance creeping into his voice rapidly.
“Okay, fine, thanks I guess.” You snap, handing him your keys and turning around to head back inside. You hear him let out a small scoff as you walk away.
By the time you make it into the kitchen, a full meltdown is occurring. Vanessa and Beatrice are freaking out to your mother about not being able to make a proper family breakfast and Tom is berating your brother for not having fixed the generator before everyone arrived. Your parents are doing their best to get everyone to calm down, your mom trying to figure out something to make for breakfast while your father attempts to defend Dylan. You stand in the doorway for a moment, taking it all in, very ready to turn and run from it all.
“Holy shit.” His voice is close behind you, so close you can feel the warmth of his body as he approaches the same scene you’re now witnessing. You turn to look at Lewis, momentarily sharing a rare knowing glance.
“Happy fucking holidays.” You say sarcastically, raising your eyebrows before stepping into the kitchen, leaving him to take his own moment before joining the insanity as well.
“Hey Dylan,” You call out loudly, trying to cut through the shrill arguments occurring, “do you think you guys have any cast iron pans around here?”
“Uh, yeah, we do, why?” He stutters briefly, thrown off by the interruption from the argument he’s been having with his father in law.
“Cool, can you grab them for me?” You say calmly, not explaining before turning toward Vanessa, “Think you have eggs and bacon in the fridge?”
“Yeah I did but I’m sure it’s all gone bad now and we can’t exactly cook it.” Her response comes out whiny and you have to take a deep breath.
“The fridge is a big cooler, it’s plenty cold in here and in there, it’s fine.” You try to explain to her, moving to the fridge to grab some ingredients quickly without letting the cold air out.
You spot the eggs and bacon, also grabbing the first bits of fruit that you see, piling everything up on the counter behind you and sending your brother a look.
“Lewis,” You call to him, catching him off guard, not expecting you to speak to him, “can you go make sure the fire is going good? I need it really hot with a good amount of coals.”
He just gives you a look like you have multiple heads before slowly nodding and making his way toward the den. Vanessa still seems to be on the verge of tears as she sits at the kitchen island, evidently having decided that the whole trip is a wash because of this little hiccup. Your brother and father quickly catch on to what is going on in your mind, your dad grabbing a loaf of bread and stacking slices of it in tin foil as your brother begins laying bacon in one of the cast iron pans you made him grab. Once his bacon is all laid out you grab the pan from him and make your way to the den, passing Lewis on the way who once again looks at you like you’re insane. You’re pleasantly surprised by the fire he’s produced when you squat down in front of it, the pan of bacon in one hand as you grab the fire poker with the other. You begin to move the logs around, trying to make a nice bed of coals for your pan before you hear his voice arguing from behind you.
“Hey, you just asked me to make a nice fire and now you’re destroying it, what the hell is this?” He sounds childish, like he’s genuinely frustrated that you’re ruining the admittedly beautiful fire he made.
You shake your head, finally placing the pan of bacon down on the hot coals before standing to face him, “We’re gonna cook like we’re camping so your best friend doesn’t lose her absolute mind. Can you handle that?” Your voice is low, a bite to it caused by him not being able to go with the flow for a moment.
“Jesus, okay captain.” He shoots back sarcastically as you walk back toward the kitchen.
“Okay V, bacon is on the fire, it’s gonna take a minute longer than usual but once that’s going I’ll get some eggs on as well and I think my dad already has the toast ready to go in.” You say, keeping your voice calm as you wrap an arm around your sister in law, “How about we get some fruit cut up to tie us over?”
The hug she wraps you in makes your heart clench, as annoying as her behaviour about the situation is you can feel in her hug that it was genuinely taking a toll on her.
“Thank you, oh my god I love you so much, best bonus sister in the world.” She says, squeezing you tight.
“Thank my dad and Dylan, they’re the ones that made me go camping so much as a kid.” You giggle, squeezing her back while sending both the men a slightly unimpressed look before cracking a smirk. They both knew you were joking, some of your fondest memories were from those camping trips.
“Oh, wait, Dyl, isn’t there a case of Champagne in the basement? We could do Mimosas!” Vanessa suddenly perks up, her mood shifting quickly.
“Yeah babe, there is, I'll go grab it, be just a second.” Dylan says eagerly, evidently pleased to see his wife excited about something for the first time all morning. 
“Glad to see one of your kids has got some problem solving skills, not the one I would have expected though.” Tom grumbles from the corner of the kitchen as Dylan disappears into the basement, your stomach clenching at the obvious distaste for the both of you in his voice, “I have been telling him to get the generator looked at for months, yet here we are. Hell, I could fix the thing if the damn kid had any tools.”
“Dylans got tools,” Lewis pipes up, having just walked back into the room, not even waiting for the evident rebuttal your father was about to lay out, “he’s got a whole workshop in the back shed. Breakfast is gonna be a while, maybe you and I can get it running.”
“Finally, some initiative, you’re a good man Lewis.” Tom says, already pushing off the counter and heading to suit up for generator repair.
“Dad.” Vanessa groans, pressing her forehead into her hands.
You can see every word your father would like to say bubbling at the surface, only keeping them inside for the sake of civility for the holiday, your mother quietly stewing from where she stands cutting up fruit. As Tom makes his way out of the room, Lewis moves over to where you and Vanessa are standing.
“Fair warning V, I don’t know the first thing about generators so I claim no responsibility for anything that happens, but he needs to get out of this damn room before it gets worse.” He tells her softly, squeezing her shoulder.
“Thank you.” She whispers softly, grabbing his hand to squeeze it back.
“By the way,” His voice is slightly louder now, his attention directed at you “I threw a few more logs on the fire to keep it hot, your bacon might need to get flipped soon, it was starting to get pretty violent.”
“Oh, yeah, thanks.” You say, surprised he even let you know, you would have sooner imagined he would let you burn it just to see you be yet another disgrace of the day, simply for his amusement. 
When Dylan returns from the dark basement you are whisking eggs alone in the kitchen, his arms are full of Champagne bottles as he looks around at the empty room, evidently confused.
“Sorry that took so long, hard to navigate in the dark, where-” He begins.
“Mom, Dad, Beatrice, and V are all in the den watching the bacon cook.” You laugh, catching on to his question.
“Tom and Lewis?” He asks, immediately suspect.
“They're outside trying to fix the generator.” You say sheepishly, knowing he would hate it but not wanting to lie to him.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” He says under his breath, turning away from you for a moment.
“I know, I know, but Tom was going to go absolutely insane in here and as much as I dislike him I kinda think Lewis was trying to save your marriage.” You say quickly, trying to calm him down.
Dylan lets out a sigh, setting the heavy bottles down on the counter, “They better not hurt themselves fucking around with it. Besides they literally can’t fix it, it’s missing a part from the manufacturer, which I told Tom, but no, he has to go-” He begins to rant.
“Hey, Lewis at least kinda knows engines and if they can’t fix it, at least it keeps them busy for a while. Also just keep in mind that Dad would be just as overprotective of me as Tom is with V.” You try to diffuse the situation.
“Never thought I would hear you defend Lewis.” Dylan grumbles, ignoring everything else you had to say.
“I’m not,” You quickly defend yourself, “I’m just trying to give you the whole picture.”
“I’m glad you’re here, this family drives me insane sometimes. Nice to have someone normal.” Dylan admits to you quietly, not even looking up at you as the words leave his mouth.
“You may want to recalibrate on what you consider normal,” You start with a laugh, moving around the island to wrap him in a hug, “but I’m happy to be your partner in crime. Now, I’m gonna go cook some eggs and throw this bread on the fire. You pop some champagne and grab the oj and the fruit off the back deck.”
“Why is all of it on the back deck?” Dylan asks, doing his best to ignore the sappy sibling moment.
“It’s like a walk in refrigerator, even houses this nice only get those during the winter months.” You say teasingly as you walk away with your pan and bowl of eggs.
By the time breakfast is ready, Lewis and Tom have made their way back into the house, Tom finally conceding that he can’t fix the generator without extra parts. You are proud of Dylan as you see him bite his tongue, evidently having things to say but instead just thanking his father in law for trying. Vanessa is overjoyed with breakfast, thanking you profusely and taking a billion pictures because ‘it's just so rustic’, making you laugh every time she excitedly mentions it. Once again you feel yourself wanting to say something when you notice Lewis not touching anything that was made, sitting at the table with just a bowl of fruit and a mimosa, but you decide against it, deciding to just let breakfast progress peacefully. You do still find yourself hoping that he will leave the second after your brother finally gets outside to plow. 
Once everyone is done eating you find yourself offering to help Beatrice clean up at the same moment as Lewis, she of course takes both of your offers happily, both of you sharing a less than pleased glance. As you begin to pile dishes into the sink, only able to rinse them with cold tap water, you hear a humm. 
Your brothers voice cuts your thoughts off, talking to Lewis, “Hey man, I was gonna head out to plow, and I know you already shoveled and thank you so much, but I was wondering if I could convince you to hop on the skidoo while I’m on the hill, Vanessa freaks out when I plow the hill alone and I don’t think we need anymore drama this morning.”
“Yeah, no problem mate, just give me a minute.” Lewis says calmly.
“Guys, shhh.” You hiss from your spot at the sink.
“Well no shit.” Lewis mutters from behind you, where he stands wrapping up the bowl of fruit salad.
“Is that the heat?” You ask excitedly, whipping around to face them.
“Sounds like it.” Lewis chuckles, not looking at you, instead turning to open the fridge to put the salad away, a smile crossing both of your faces when you see the light illuminate the interior.
“Powers back on!” You hear your fathers voice call from the other room.
You decide to leave the dishes for another moment, heading into the den where everyone else has settled for the time being. When you enter you hear the TV click on, your father immediately finding the local news.
“The snowfall is the worst we have seen in almost a decade, nearing four feet in under twenty four hours. The winds were devastating, taking out power to most of the surrounding rural neighborhoods. Emergency crews are on the ground to aid in snow removal and extraction for those trapped indoors. If you are in a safe and warm location we urge you to stay inside, do not attempt travel, and wait for further updates.” The weather reporter's voice carries through the den, the TV cutting to scenes of parts of town that you had driven through absolutely ransacked with snow and downed trees.
“Lewis, darling, I know the snow has stopped but you have to stay, I would be worrying about you the whole time you were out there.” Beatrice says, her voice sounding overly desperate like calling someone home from war.
“It’s just a drive, Bea, I’d be totally fine once I made it to my house.” He argued patiently, his voice behind you.
“But the drive, you never know what will happen, and what if you get to your house and something happened there, then you have to drive all the way back here. I would be worried sick.” Beatrice continues to argue as if its her house, you know Vanessa would never turn Lewis down but the audacity of her mother doesn't cease to amaze you.
“Y/N and I got my car out of the snow this morning, if we can get the driveway plowed I’m good to go. Between my driving skills and the four wheel drive I’m sure I will be more than fine, I might have to sit through some delays but that will be it.” He continues to attempt to reason with the distraught woman.
“Lewis, she’s right, they’re telling people to stay put. It’s not worth the risk.” Vanessa pipes up, siding with her mom.
You can hear him let out a heavy sigh and you know he’s getting ready to concede, you don’t think you’ve ever actually seen him disagree with Vanessa or tell her no to anything she wants.
“I don’t want to intrude, I know you weren’t planning on having me here. You guys should really have your family holiday the way you planned it.” He argues one last time, the weakest argument yet.
“Nonsense, you are family. I’m always happy to have the son I never got around.” Tom says eagerly. You cringe internally at his words, for both Dylan and Vanessa, you can even see distaste on Lewis’ face when you steal a glance at him.
“I do genuinely need to get to my house at some point, but I’ll stick around a little longer if it would make you feel better.” Lewis finally concedes, looking less enthusiastic than you had anticipated.
You quietly announce that you are going to go finish the dishes, wanting to get away from everyone for a moment. You’re only allowed to be alone for a moment before Lewis is joining you in the kitchen, much to your dismay.
“You’ll survive.” You hear him grumble as he begins cleaning up the kitchen behind you.
“I didn’t say anything.” You snap at him, unhappy with being attacked unprovoked.
“Didn’t have to, I know you don’t want me here.” He says firmly.
“It’s not my house, Vanessa can invite whomever she pleases.” You say, continuing with the dishes.
“Yeah, she can, doesn’t mean you’re happy about it.” He argues.
“Because you’re just buzzing to spend more time with me?” You question him harshly, finally turning to face him as you dry your hands.
“Oh fucking dying.” He says sarcastically, an over dramatic pained look on his face.
He doesn’t give you time to respond before once again he is leaving the room without a word.
“It’s only a week Y/N.” You mutter to yourself, taking a deep breath before busying yourself with cleaning. Maybe you can keep yourself so busy you won’t have to interact with him at all.
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