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imagineinside · 14 days

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Star-Like Encounters (Hugh Jackman x Fem!Reader) Chapter 2

Previous Chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/imagineinside/760282819875471360/star-like-encounters-hugh-jackman-x-femreader?source=share

A/N: First of all, thank you guys for the love on the first chapter! Sorry it took me longer to get this second one out, life has gotten hectic (I study Aerospace Engineering in real life and my semester just started lol) but this is a great escape for me. I think Chapter 3 will be even more fun to write than this one. ;)

Description: You begin your first semester at a prestigious university with a mix of excitement and chaos. After a frantic start involving a late arrival due to your roommate’s Hollywood-related detour, your day takes an unexpected turn when you meet Hugh Jackman, your roommate’s boss, at a movie studio.

Hugh, intrigued by your expertise in physics, invites you to consult on a film project aiming for scientific accuracy. Balancing your new academic responsibilities with a potential Hollywood cameo, you must navigate your dual interests. As you face your own feelings, you discover that the lines between your professional and personal worlds are more intertwined than you imagined.

Currently Applicable Tags: (Future) 18+, Fluff, cocky Hugh Jackman, flirty Hugh Jackman, age gap (55 and 27), so much pining, mutual pining, more to come.

The next week and a half went by without any real hassle. In fact, Hugh and your roommate had to go overseas for some press release on the upcoming debut of the “Deadpool and Wolverine” film, which you were definitely going to see on opening day. You could hardly believe Hugh Jackman was already working on a new movie, but perhaps he needed to be busy with work right now to keep his mind off other things. You understood the feeling.

You hadn’t sent Hugh another text yet, despite the fact that your roommate had already given you the green light to do so. You had just secured your first semester at Stanford, and while there was nothing in your contract stating you couldn’t pursue other career opportunities, being a professor to over 100 students still took a lot of time. And being the newest, and youngest, faculty member you knew you were under heavy scrutiny from the headmaster.

It was rather unheard of for a young professional at the age of 27 to become a professor. But throughout your university career you had pursued your Masters and Bachelors at the same time, which had just left a three-year long Phd to complete in which you focused on laser technology and nuclear propulsion systems. Hugh Jackman had been right about at least one thing, you were very dedicated and passionate about your craft.

After your class Wednesday morning you were set on grading papers for the rest of the day, the assignment had been “What shape is our universe?” a relatively simple question but with a lot of avenues to discuss. Well, you were set on grading papers until you opened up your YouTube account to turn on background music and a new interview featuring Hugh Jackman popped up on your feed. This one was from The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon, so they must have just taken a while to post it.

It was as if your hand had a mind of its own as you clicked on the video. A wild round of applause started as Hugh Jackman took his seat and seemed to readjust his sweater, hips popping in the air. God, he was so effortlessly attractive. The interview went through the normal questions, yet you still soaked up every minute of it. It wasn't until the last couple minutes that Fallon had asked him, “So can you tell us anything about the new movie that is still in pre-production? I mean, I have no idea what it’s even about!”

Hugh laughed, crows feet growing appearing to his eyes. You absolutely adored the smile lines around his eyes and mouth, you wish you could trace every single one. “I can’t say too much, sorry, Jimmy. What I can say is that we’ve recruited some expertise for the physics of the movie… y’know like the stuff that us movie producers aren’t very well versed in.” He said with another laugh, “And I gotta say, she is just amazing, and very passionate about her work.”

“Is she the hottie of her department too, Hugh?” Fallon had asked with a laugh, obviously making a joke.

Hugh seemed to pause, a smile forming on his lips, “If she isn’t, then I would be very surprised, Jimmy.”

“Does the Hugh Jackman have a crush?”

Hugh laughed, “Even if I did, I highly doubt it would be reciprocated–”

You slammed your laptop shut, heart pounding in your ears. You whipped out your phone to text Ashley but paused when the keyboard popped up, what exactly were you going to say to her? Hey! So your boss inadvertently flirted with me and it’s making me feel some very specific type of way. What do I do???

Instead, you opted to open up the email from Ashley which included an agenda for the pre-production discussions. Attached to her email, she had written, “I also let them know your work schedule and when you have your mid-term breaks, so we tried to work around them.” You smiled at your friend's generosity, she truly was so encouraging of your work and had so much admiration for you, as you did her.

As you reviewed the dates and times alongside your class schedule, you realized there was really no reason to say no. They had aligned the dates perfectly so that you wouldn’t have to worry about missing or being late to any lectures. Sure, you may have to take your grading work on the go, but that shouldn’t be too much of a problem. You were a professor for an introductory graduate course, you weren’t meant to be too hard on these kids.

You reopened your phone, hesitating over Hugh Jackman’s icon before clicking on your messages. Before you could really think about it, you hurriedly typed out a text and clicked send.

Putting your phone on do not disturb, you shoved it to the side and got back to grading papers. It took nearly a full three hours before you were done with the stack of 100 essays, and you had merely skimmed them. It probably would’ve taken you far longer to thoroughly read through them.

It wasn’t until you had your bag packed up to return home that you dared another look at your phone. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous, the worst thing he could say was that they found someone else, or if he didn’t respond at all. You still weren’t sure this was all real, so having it come to an end may be for the best anyway.

Upon seeing that he had messaged you only minutes after you sent him your initial text, you hurriedly sent an apology.

The photo had you laughing in the middle of the hallway on your way out of the building, getting a few glares from fellow professors and students. You mumbled a quick apology and hurriedly went through the exit, simultaneously typing a response back to him.

* * *

It wasn’t until Sunday night that your roommate returned home and immediately beelined to her room. You couldn’t blame her, being gone and traveling that whole time would have made you really miss your bed too.

You decided to be a good friend and greet her with a cup of coffee and a plate of eggs the next morning, to which she had immediately devoured both. Then you were off to class, with a promise to pick Ashley up on your way to the first of the pre-production meetings.

During your lecture, it felt like it was impossible to focus on the task at hand. Instead, your mind seemed to want to focus on your nerves about seeing Hugh Jackman again, in person. Sure, you two had been exchanging a bit since last Monday, but it wasn’t about anything personal. You tried to keep your conversations strictly professional so as not to give yourself a heart attack.

“Finally, God, what took you so long?” Ashley grumbled as she clambered into the Volvo.

You rolled your eyes, shifting it out of park and merging onto the road. “Someone is still jet lagged.” “Ugh, don’t even get me started. I still want to be in a ball on my bed right now, not going to this meeting. Plus!” Ashley exclaimed, throwing a finger in the air, “I won’t even know what you’ll be babbling on about! I don’t know rocket physics or whatever.”

“Astrophysics,” you quietly remind her.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to undermine your interest. I’m just tired and grumpy.”

You laughed, “It’s fine, Ash, let’s just make it there without you jumping out of this car in an attempt to escape.

“Don’t tempt me.” She said, and you both burst out into laughter.

* * *

When you arrived at the older looking building closer to downtown Los Angeles, Ashley showed you where to park in the back to keep your license plate hidden. “Paparazzi like to take pictures of the cars here and try to track them down,” she had explained.

Then you were knocking on the back door, your heart in your throat. You heard footsteps approaching from behind the door before the door swung open to reveal an older gentleman with curly, graying hair.

He gave you two a bright smile, “Ashley, good to see you again.” He greeted Ashley to which she gave him a half-hearted grunt back. “And you must be the professor I’ve heard so much about. I’m Shawn, the director for the film.”

You smiled and shook his hand before he stepped aside to let you guys in. The building wasn’t at all what you had expected, you thought the meeting would be at a cold, fluorescent-lit office building, not this quaint, rustic old home near downtown.

You followed Ashley into what you thought would be the dining room of the household, where you were greeted with six other individuals–including Hugh Jackman himself, sitting around an oak table with a whiteboard at the very end. The whiteboard was full of different scribbled imagery and what you thought was an attempt at Newton’s Laws… you couldn’t be quite sure.

“Ah, there she is!” Hugh exclaimed as he tossed his reading glasses–which you tried not to think about how hot he looked with them on, key word: tried–and began walking over to you.

You opened your mouth to greet him, right before you were enveloped in a warm hug by his giant body. He was so much bigger than you, standing side-by-side you hadn't noticed. But right then you felt safe… protected.

You tried not to revel in the hug too much, allowing yourself one long draw of his clean, pinewood scent before pulling away. “Good to see you also made it back alive. Though the jet-lag isn’t affecting you as much as Grumpy over there from Snow White.”

Ashley flipped you off as she settled in a chair and pulled a stack of papers into her lap.

“Thank you for coming,” Hugh said as you drifted your eyes up to his face. His hands clasped around your shoulders and gave a gentle squeeze before he turned to go back to his spot at the table.

Clearing your throat, you settled into the last remaining seat at the head of the room. “I have already signed the NDA for the film and faxed it to Ashley while she was away. So, if I’m able to ask, what exactly did I need to be asked about?”

All eyes turned to Shawn, the man that had greeted you at the door. “There is a part of the film where the main characters are sending their ship through a wormhole to travel a big distance. Can you describe how that would look?”

Oh, boy… “Well, how scientifically accurate are you hoping this movie to be? Like Interstellar level, or Star Wars?”

“We were hoping for more Interstellar.” A bald man across from Hugh answered.

“In that case, it’s important to note that scientifically speaking, we don’t know if wormholes even exist or not. In theoretical physics, they can be described as ‘tunnel-like’ structures.” You paused to survey the faces of those around you, your eyes falling on one face in particular. Hugh had his head resting on his open hand, a twinkle of something in his eye as he nodded in encouragement for you to continue. “Basically, wormholes are a wrinkle in whatever fabric space is made of,” you said and picked up a piece of loose paper that was on the table. You brought the two edges together to form a wrinkle. “Simply, it would be like a tunnel traveling through this paper. But that wrinkle needs to exist first.”

“And you don’t know ‘if the technology which we humans have created would be able to survive traveling in a wrinkle through space. Or if the human body would survive on a molecular level’,” Hugh carried on.

You nodded slowly, not sure if he knew what he was quoting, “Yes, that was from my… um, my graduate thesis.”

Hugh smiled and held up a stapled stack of paper, “I know, I printed it out.” He laughed as he confessed, “I think I’ve read it three or four times to grasp everything you discussed.”

You tried to hide the blush forming on your cheeks. While you took great pride in that thesis, you didn’t think anyone–especially Hugh Jackman–would have taken such an interest in it.

“The other issue is what lies beyond the thin fabric of space if a wormhole exists? That’s the greatest mystery of my field, though,” you laughed, “We have no idea what our universe is actually expanding into. Does matter just cease to exist past that point? Is it a giant black hole? We have no clue.”

“From the sounds of it, you can’t answer our questions then.” The bald man said to you from across the room, his icy glare making you snap your mouth shut, before turning to Shawn, “I told you it would be a waste of our time–”

“I think you should leave,” a gruff voice announced, and it took you a moment to register that it was Hugh who said it. Was he seriously willing to stand up for you like that?

The man scoffed, “Seriously?”

Hugh stood suddenly, his chair scraping against the hardwood floor. It was hard not to notice how mouth-drooling good he looked in his green cashmere sweater. It really did hug him in all the right ways.

“Yes, seriously,” Hugh insisted as he began to walk around the table. As he passed by you, he gave your shoulder–at least what you imagined was–an apologetic squeeze. The feeling of his calloused hand against your bare shoulder sent a shiver down your spine. “Come, I’ll walk you out.”

“Shawn, really?” The bald man looked to the director.

Shawn sighed as he glanced up at Hugh. He must have seen something in his lead actor's eyes since he said, “I think it would be best for you to take a break for now, we will see you again tomorrow.”

Without another word, the man gathered his belongings and stormed out of the house, slamming the backdoor before Hugh was able to close it for him. Once Hugh returned to the room, you felt like you could breathe again.

“So, where were we?” Hugh asked as he sat back down, and you didn’t miss the way he shuffled closer to you to rub soothing circles on the small of your back.

* * *

You answered a few more of their questions regarding wormhole travel, black holes, and also the passing of time in space versus on-planet. After an hour and a half it felt like you were losing their attention, so you decided to end the discussion there. Ashley had fallen asleep on the chair, but when it was time to go you gave her the keys and she went out to the car.

Eventually everyone had cleared out of the room besides you and Hugh, which left you not really knowing what to say.

“I’m sorry about Steven,” Hugh had started. He was standing behind his chair, hands braced on the back of it. His fingers were so long and elegant, and his palms were double the size of yours. He was an all-around giant compared to you.

You waved it off, “It didn’t phase me. I’ve dealt with worse individuals before, happens a lot in my field actually.” You paused before saying, “Thank you, though, for, um, sticking up for me. But you should know I can take care of myself,” you said with a playful smile.

Hugh’s face grew into a smile that matched yours as he took a few steps forward until he was just a handreach away. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah!” You said and playfully punched him in the chest, your fist contacting with refined muscle, “I’m a big girl. Do you see these guns?” You laughed and pretended to flex your arms.

“I feel bad for whatever person crosses you,” Hugh laughed, though it quickly tapered off as he worried at his bottom lip.

You furrowed your brow and titled your head, “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Hugh gave you a lopsided smile, though it didn’t really reach his eyes. “Just nervous.”

“About what?”

“Well,” Hugh began but quickly paused as he scratched at the rough beginnings of a beard. You wish you could feel that stubble scraping against your skin and watch it leave irritated marks all over you. “I am assuming you know the debut night for Deadpool & Wolverine is coming up soon.”

“Duh!” You laughed, “I already got tickets for me and Ashley opening night.”

“Right, of course, nevermind then,” Hugh laughed it off with a shrug, but you caught his arm as he went to go past you.

“You aren’t getting off that easy. What were you going to say?”

It seemed like he still took a moment to contemplate it before he said, “I am allowed a plus one for the debut, and my kids already have stuff going on. I guess I was wondering, as a thank you for your help with all this, would you like to go?” He let the question hang in the air for a second, “As my plus one, of course. And I could get you in contact with my stylists and I am sure they would love to have a woman to dress for a change,” he said with an awkward laugh that you still found quite endearing.

“Hugh,” you began and he looked at you as if you held the entire world in your hands, “I would love to go. I’ll arrange with Ashley to make sure one of our friends can go with her in my place.” You paused, something like anxiety creeping up your spine, “But won’t you be worried about what people will say if they see me there with you? I know you are inviting me as a friend and colleague, but… the media tends to run with stuff like this.”

Hugh shook his head and grabbed at the hand you still had on his arm, “No, I won’t be worried. It would be an honor to have you there.” Before you could move away, Hugh brought your hand up to his mouth, leaving a quick kiss on the back of it. “You should get going,” he said, his voice rougher, darker than usual. It’s what you imagined his bedroom voice would be like. WHOA, totally not the time to be thinking about that. “Ashley is probably waiting for you.”

You nodded and shook yourself out of whatever trance he put you in, “Yeah, right, right.” You gathered your belongings and went to leave the room, and you aren’t entirely sure what confidence came over you as you turned back to him to say, “Oh, and Hugh? I am definitely the hottie of my department.” With a wink, you disappeared from sight.

Taglist: @corvusmorte, @chinchie, @reinabxitch (if you aren't on this last but want to be let me know!)

#hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman #hugh jackman imagines #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine #logan howlett #hugh jackman fluff #cocky hugh jackman #flirty hugh jackman

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countrymusiclover · 4 months

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2 - Coffee Thank You

Part 3

Detective Stabler's Daughter

Tag list - send an ask to be added @hiireadstuff

It had been a few weeks since I started my classes and I was doing fairly well in them except for the newest assignment in Professor Reid’s class. Kathleen wasn’t really concerned with the class like I was. Re-reading over the notes I had taken I had zoned out the fact that he had ended class for the afternoon and everyone else was leaving until my sister shakes my shoulder. “Hey! Hey Y/n. Class is over.”

“It is. Uh sorry.” I looked at her, noticing that she had her backpack on her shoulders standing in front of me.

I glanced back down at my messy notebook. “Hey, I'll meet you later. I have some questions to ask the professor.”

“Okay. Hopefully you won’t come off as a serious college student in your last year.”

I sent her a glare. “Kathleen.”

“I just want to have some fun with my sister.” She walked down the aisle and out the large door.

Walking down the rows until I reached his desk he was putting his notebook away in his bag getting ready to leave. “Professor Reid, could I ask you some questions about our newest assignment?”

“Of course.” He set his bag down back on the large desk. “What are your questions?”

Sitting my bag down on the ground tile I scanned over the questions I had written down. “I’ve been looking over the assignment but I don’t understand how we are supposed to profile these past cases.”

“Being a profile isn’t easy. But let’s look at the situation I gave you.” He suggested eyeing my papers.

I nervously nodded, handing him my papers. “Okay.”

“The situation reads : A man abducted three blonde girls and held them captive in a basement. He forced these girls to have sex with him and if they refused he held them down and he used a medication to make them go blind as punishment.” He read over the assignment description. “Tell me your thoughts on why this guy chose this punishment or what type of pattern this would fall under.”

I clicked my tongue avoiding his gaze since I was nervous that I might be wrong. “The reason for punishment was that he wanted to be in control of the girls and if they didn’t find attraction towards him then - he used it to make them feel the pain he felt.”

“And what do you think the trigger was?” Professor Reid asked me.

Brushing hair out of my face I paused for a few minutes before answering him. “The trigger likely could have been that he had a girlfriend or a girl he was interested in that looked like the girls. And she rejected him, not finding him attractive.”

“Exactly. You’re exactly right.” He smiled at me.

I raised a brow. “Really?”

“Yes. Now if you just write all that down and bring it on the day it’s due. You’ll get a good grade.” He cheered me on handing my notes back to me.

I took it from his outstretched hand. “Thank you, Professor Reid.”

“You’re welcome, Ms. Stabler.” He swings his bag over his left shoulder heading towards the doors. “I’ll see you in class.”

“Wait. Professor Reid, how can I thank you - um more properly.”

He paused in his steps. “Oh I don’t think that is necessary.”

“Well I think I should do something. Considering most of the professor's that I've had aren't always open to questions and have told me that I should be able to figure it out on my own.” I explained to him putting my notebook back up and shrugging my bag over my shoulders.

My professor clicked his tongue. “Well I suppose it's okay. Just nothing too serious.”

“How about going for coffee near campus?” I suggested with a slight smirk on my face.

He finally agreed to that idea. “That's good.”

We made our way across the campus just silently walking until we passed the entrance sign of the campus. His class was my last one on Thursday’s so I was done for the evening. It was a nice day when we reached the nearest shop where he held the door open for me to go in first like a gentleman. “Thank you.”

“No problem. Ms. Stabler.” He replied following behind me where we sat down at the nearest round table.

“One Strawberry Creme Frappuccino for you, Ms. Stabler. And a White Chocolate Mocha for me.” Spencer came back with two drinks in hand since I had told him what I wanted. He sat back down in his chair across from mine.

I sat across from him hanging my bag on the back part, correcting him in the nicest way possible. “You should call - can call me Y/n if we go out for coffee like this again. I mean only if you want to.”

“You’d want to go out for coffee again?”

I sipped my coffee cup. “Maybe. Unless that’s super unprofessional in our situation.”

“It’s more than that.” He tapped his fingers on the sides of the plastic cup.

Taking a long sip from my coffee I wasn’t sure what had come over me. Yet I didn’t feel that nervous around him. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t entirely understand how I feel about you. But I just - I think that I want to know more about you.”

Tilting my head to the side my curiosity came over me. “Like wanting to go on a date type of thing?”

“Y-yeah. Only if you’re up for it.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Hmm let’s see. Tell me something most people wouldn’t know about you just by looking at you.”

Spencer thought briefly for a second tapping his fingers on the table before snapping his fingers at me. “I’m banned from casinos in Las Vegas, Laughlin and Pahrump because of my card counting ability.”

“Woah. You really must be a genius.”

He sent me a shy smile. “I graduated high school at the age of 12.”

“That is incredible. And please don’t take offense to this but how do you not have a girlfriend or wife already?”

He shrugged his shoulders, finishing the rest of his drink in his cup before sitting it down on the table avoiding my gaze waiting for my response. “Typically I haven’t been the best at talking to other people. I um - I feel like I always come off as weird or awkward talking to women - which is way too personal when we haven’t even been on a date yet.”

“One thing about me is that I am a Detective’s daughter.” I clasped my hands together resting my chin on the palms of my hands.

Spencer raised a brow at me. “Can I know the detective's name? Unless that’s too invasive.”

“Pfft it’s totally fine. My father’s name is Detective Elliot Stabler. He works for the Special Victims Unit here in the city.”

He chuckled softly. “I already told you this in class but I do work for the FBI. Specifically the Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

“That’s pretty impressive.” I smiled back at him.

Spencer met my gaze with his brown eyes that deeply looked into mine when he asked the question that popped into his head and was making him super nervous on the inside. “At the risk of overstepping you can decline. But uh - would you maybe wanna go out with me tonight?”

“We’d have to go off campus. But yes that sounds like fun.” I finished off my coffee throwing both of our drinks away then we headed back to the campus.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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ventismacchiato · 2 years

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21 just playing the part — is this what friends do ?!

scaramouche x g!n reader

ACT THREE

just a montage of the following week

just playing the part !

masterlist — prev | next

did scara figure out your nightly walk route and casually wait around one of the corners to run into you? yes.

scara learning how to cook just to be petty because his mom can’t is a power move

everyone watching scara and you walk through college campus with your wrists handcuffed as you struggle to open doors and shit 😭

synopsis: you and scaramouche are both drama majors and have been at each other’s throats vying for the same lead roles since high school. but when you’re both cast as each other’s love interest in your second year you’re forced to be civil with your academic rival and see him in a new light. are his feelings for you true or is he just playing the part?

comment or send an ask to be added or removed! ⤵️

taglist—OPEN! @monochromaticelliot @kaedear @stxrgxzxr @shirmxie @elakari @lacy-lady @linn-a-a @one-offmind @kithewanderingme @quepasoash @leathernourishingshoepolish @mangobee @lxry-chxn @dameofthorns @scarasaver @kythe1a @elysiasbae @hikaru-exe @tokkishouse @raiihoshii @cherrybeomgyu @kunikuzushiit @thenightsflower @lilneps @goodthingimsam @lovelyiez @euhla @beriiov @abvolat @kittycasie @b0bafl0wer @bubblyclouds @atlatcaheart @artssleepy @baelloraa @tartagli-yuh @satowaluverr @hangesextra @scaranaris-lil-niko @caffinatedcoma @wheneverthesunrise @hajimeseyo @itsyourgirlria @hyunrei @redactedhimbo @caliginous-skies @vinskyspuff @miissfortune @criminalinthemaking @scaramouches-girlfriend [1/2]

author’s note: tried to crop out the other hand as much as possible to not show the skin tone 😭 some of it is peeking thru but i hope it’s ok 💔 i have no assignments due tonight so here i am 🧍

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bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove · 8 months

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Light My Love -II - T.Nott

Series Summary - Follow Y/N as she navigated the wizarding world on her own, starting from her first year, all the way through to her seventh. As she falls in love and get her heart broken, how a certain friend is always there to mend her broken heart even though his is slowly getting broken in the process.

Chapter Summary - It's exam season before the Winter break and Y/N receives help from someone unexpected. Spending nearly every night awake studying for the exams, she is quite exhausted. Theo takes note of this and helps her out. After a long night of studying, the Slytherin boys see something rather interesting related to their dear friend Y/N.

Pairings - Theo Nott x Fem!Reader(eventual)

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST, LEAVE ME A COMMENT ON THIS POST!

Series Warnings - Blood purity, dark wizards, Reader is a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, pining, angst, reader will have some shitty boyfriends, Female Reader, use of Y/N

Chapter Warnings - Female Reader, use of Y/N, mentions of food and eating, poorly written angst, crying, rough parent-child relationship, profanity

Author's Note - Welcome to part 2 of this series! I will be creating a masterlist for this series after I post this so keep an eye out! I will link it when it's done!

Word Count - 1479

My full Masterlist

Series Masterlist

My requests are open!

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

not my gif

It had taken her a few days to go back to normal but with the help of Theo and Draco, she was fine. Her mother had a certain affect on her, she knew just how to hurt her daughter. Draco understood this, his father was the exact same way, Theo’s father the same as well. That was the way the Death Eaters worked, they were harsh on their families especially with having to lay low as the dark lord was gone.

Her grade in Quirrell’s class improved with the unexpected help of Hermione Granger. She was not only Y/N’s academic rival but also Theo’s. She was willing to help the Slytherin despite the friends of the girl. She was back to acing all of her classes, buying some limited edition books as a thank you to Hermione.

It was the end of November, the autumn air getting colder as snow started falling from the sky, coating the Scottish Highlands. Exams were quickly approaching, the stress of another thing placed atop her shoulders. She had just managed to get her grade up in her worst class but now she was pulling all-nighters in the library or the common room studying.

Her friends had taken note of the change in her, how she was always tired and sluggish, she was constantly falling asleep in class and just overall dull. She had lost her sparkle and charisma due to the long nights of studying. All of her friends were worried but Theo had taken the cake, he was acting like her little servant. Anything she wanted, he went and got for her. Anytime she needed a break, he was there to entertain her. Anytime she needed help on an assignment, he was right there guiding her to the correct answer.

She was grateful to have someone like Theodore Nott in her life. He may have been a loner, but he was always happy to be with her, to help her with whatever she needed.

The weeks of studying had flown by and exam week was finally here. Her first one was arguably the easiest, Potions. She was able to pass the exam no problem, getting the best grade in the class. Right after she did her potions exam she had to do her exam for History of Magic. She was a bit nervous for this one, getting a pep talk from Draco and Theo right before.

“You have the best grade in the class, you’re going to pass the exam with no issue! If anyone is going to fail it’s going to be Draco,” Theo assured her.

“Hey!” Draco protested, “I’m not going to fail! It’s probably going to be Weasley who fails, he always sleeps in class.”

“So do you!” Y/N pointed out with a giggle causing the two boys to share a victorious look. Theo ushered the three of them inside the classroom, taking their seats in the back. Once all of the exams were given out and the papers were flipped over, her confidence skyrocketed. She knew every single question and knew the answers like the back of her hand. Some of the questions even pertained to her extended family, like the Gaunt family.

She was the first one to finish and turn in her exam. She waited outside the class as her friends were still inside taking the test. It wasn’t until the end of the hour that the two boys came out, relieved looks on their faces for finally finishing the exam. They made their way to dinner together, stress eating more sweets than actual food before making their way back to the common room.

She took her usual place next to the large window outlooking the depths of the Black Lake, pulling out her study guides and flashcards for the next exams. Theo sat beside her as he always did, asking her the questions on her flashcards and waiting to hear her answers, which were usually all right. Midnight quickly approached, the two of them half asleep, Theo coaxing her into calling it a night.

“C’mon bellissima, it’s late, we should go to bed,” He yawned out, rubbing his eyes gently as he did so.

“Five more minutes?” She begged him, a pout on her face. She looked at him with a sparkle in her eye and a hint of a smile covered by the pout.

“It’s already midnight, principessa. Let’s go to bed, we can wake up early and get back to it.”

“But Theo, I really need to pass these exams. Just five more minutes, please?” He couldn’t say no again, not with the look on her pretty face. He was slipping, letting out a groan as he finally gave in.

“Fine, five more minutes. No more than that, got it?” She nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek before they continued to study. His cheeks turned pink as he looked down at the next flashcard. “What is the incantation for the levitation spell?”

“Wingardium Leviosa! Easy!”

The rest of the Slytherin house was quiet, the only two awake were Y/N and Theo, sitting in front of the window as he asked her questions and she answered. Their study session lasted much longer than five minutes. The next thing they knew, their housemates were all waking up and filing into the common room. Theo looked at the time before letting out a gasp.

“Oh Salazar! We’ve been awake for 24 hours! You said five more minutes!” Theo realised with a groan. He wasn’t mad at her in the slightest but she felt guilty.

“I’m so sorry Theo. I didn’t even realise the time until everyone started to wake. Go to your dorm to rest a bit before the day actually starts, please. I can finish up by myself,” She rambled guiltily.

“It’s okay, principessa. If I’m going to rest, you’re coming with me. You need rest too, you know?” Theo teased her, causing a smile to take over her face. He stood up, offering her his hand which she gladly took. Theo helped her up and led her to his room that he shared with Draco, Blaise, Enzo and Mattheo. The four boys still in the room and wide awake, sending teasing remarks to the pair. “Oh shove off, we just spent all night studying in the common room. We’re just going to rest here through breakfast,” Theo defended the two of them.

“Good, you both look like death incarnate. I’ve never seen dark circles that were nearly black,” Mattheo teased before heading out of the room. The three others bid the pair goodbye and the promise of getting them up after breakfast was over.

Y/N and Theo climbed into his bed and fell asleep almost immediately. They slept all the way through breakfast and the first 2 hours of classes which thankfully were cancelled. Draco, Blaise and Enzo sticking true to their word of waking the pair up when it was time for the first class of the day. It was exam day for Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts.

The two of them woke up with a start when they heard screaming, bumping their heads together and groaning in pain. The three boys laughed at the two as they rubbed the sleep out of their eyes. “That was hilarious! I wish we got a video of that!” Blaise laughed.

“Fuck off Zabini!” Y/N groaned, swinging her legs over the side of the bed before standing. “I swear you guys have better beds than the girls. My bed feels like a rock,” She yawned, stretching her arms over her head. Her shirt riding up revealed an interesting scar on her abdomen. It was almost identical to the scar on Harry Potter’s forehead, just slightly larger.

“Where’d you get the scar from?” Draco asked with curiosity.

“None of your business, Draco. I’m gonna go back to my dorm to get ready,” She snapped before rushing out of the room quickly.

“Am I the only one who saw it? It looked like Potter’s scar,” he mentioned to the three other boys.

“I saw it too, I wonder if she got it in a similar way. An unforgivable curse backfiring but leaving her with a scar? It’s possible, right?” Enzo theorised before shaking his head, “Nevermind, just let her come to us about it. It’s better that way than us trying to figure out where it came from.” With that, Enzo and Blaise left the room to make their way to Flitwick’s class.

“You think her parents did that?” Theo asked, his voice deeper and laced with sadness just thinking about it.

“I mean probably. You know how her mum is, she’s a terrible woman and her father is a terrible man. I can only imagine what she goes through being stuck in that house day in and day out.”

Taglist:

@bigsimperika @melllinaa @chgrch @the-girl-who-simps-too-much

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ncistivaparis · 5 months

Text

As usual I’m starving for Tiva scenes. And recently I realized one could find “Tiva” scenes in other episodes! That’s currently what I’m doing!

Let me tell you about 11x08:

In this episode someone is driving Tony to Quantico since he doesn’t have any car due to the car crash in 10x22. (I personally think this shows how hard it is for him to move on from the previous time, an implicit reference to Ziva). Anyway, in 11x08 Mcgee assumes that a lady has been driving Tony to the crime scene, he talks about it with Abby. Later on, Gibbs assigns Tony to go talk to a magnificent woman (once again to cheer up Tony). However, later on McGee finds out Tony has been taking public transports all along, which he notes is weird for Tony.

Finally, Tony and Mcgee end up in front of a church, that Tony apparently knows a lot about! Here is the scene:

Reverend Miller: Anthony! What are you doing here? Your meeting’s not until tonight.

Tony: Reverend Miller, I, um

Reverend: Bringing a new member?

Tony: Um.. He’s thinking about it. A little gun-shy. McGee, the Rev.

Rev: (to mcgee) please join us, it’s a very safe place. All are welcome

(Reverend goes away, Mcgee turns to Tony)

Mcgee: Tony, what’s going on? Do you have a drinking problem?

Tony: (laughing) No. No I just… (very seriously) I joined this men’s support group. Meets in the church hall 2 nights a week.

Mcgee: you serious?

Tony: Mm-hmm. I know it…it doesn’t sound like me, but… (sighs) with the past year, I just…wanted to shake things up a little bit. Meet some new people. This guy at the gym told me about the group, and I thought it sounded like a good idea. And it..it is fun. (Mcgee’s in disbelief) the Rev drove me to Quantico the other morning. Interesting guy. He’s helping me being less judgmental.

…

(Tony walks away, while Mcgee stands once again in disbelief )

Let me rephrase it, Tony went twice a week to a group support in a church, trying to move on and to accept the fact that Ziva left him. At the beginning of 11x09, he even talks alone about a woman he apparently met. And as another agent is doing her stuff, she tells him she hasn’t been listening, but tells him to start over in order to listen to him. Then he litterly begs her to have a reaction to what he said, to be at least “sarcastic”!

Now this is a lonely man. This is a lonely man missing his partner, his best friend, the woman he’s in love with. And so people, Gibbs, Mcgee, other NCIS agent try to pay more attention to him, to listen to him, to give him work he’s supposed to like (Gibbs telling him to go talk to a lady he finds beautiful) so that he feels less lonely.

Hence this is the reason why you can see, even after Ziva’s gone, how much she means to him. One could call it an “almost Tiva scene”.

And you know everytime Tony felt bad, Ziva tried to do her best to cheer him up, to make him laugh, to bring him back to his normal self. That’s the reason why I think if she knew how lonely he was feeling, she would have just hold him in her arms. Had she known how lonely he felt, she might have come back.

#tiva #tony dinozzo #ziva david #tony x ziva #ncis #tiva spinoff #im not okay #im not crying you are

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clowningaroundmars · 2 months

Text

Hobie1610 pt. 2

after god knows how long (months tho tbh), i am happy to present: hobie1610 part dos! In this installment, we see how Miles eventually rounds right back to Hobie Jones to apologize after pt. 1's gigantic blunder

hope y'all enjoy! :)

>pt. 1 here<

>pt. 3 here<

It was several weeks into the first semester-- with winter just right around the corner-- before Miles finally got around to confronting the little Hobie Problem that he had.

Being laden with pounds upon pounds of assignments to get done before the holidays and then trying to keep up with Spiderman duties on top of it all, managing his parents’ overwhelming expectations once again, and trying to survive as a teenager in general forced his first day blunder onto the back burner for much longer than Miles would have liked.

Sure, his anxiety is a bitch sometimes, and it holds him back from directly addressing a lot of issues in his life, but Rio didn’t raise any neanderthal. Miles knew that when he messed up, he messed up.

Problem is, every time he’s tempted to just reach a hand out to his dimension’s Hobie Br-- Jones, pat his shoulder lightly, pull him into a corner somewhere during lunch maybe, and finally man up and apologize… that’s when some crook starts some problems downtown, or some mad scientist finally snaps somewhere and starts to wreak havoc with crazy gadgets a bit too unnervingly close to his neighborhood.

Or Miles gets back to his dorm room and sees that he has an assignment due the very next day that he hasn’t even had the chance to hop on yet, because of aforementioned crooks and mad scientists.

It was all driving him crazy.

And so now here he was, up on a rooftop in the middle of a chilly fall day, hanging out with his inter-dimensional besties (who he lightheartedly calls the Spider Squad but he hasn’t quite brought that up to them yet).

They were on a lunch break after pummeling and restraining some prisoners-- who somehow got out of the Raft-- that tried to make their way across the Brooklyn Bridge. Miles sure appreciated the help, which was one of the many positives of letting Hobie Brown make dimension watches for everyone, mostly so they could all help another Spider shoulder the burdens that usually befell them.

But the teens-- being teens, of course-- also used their watches to just pop into an open portal and hang out with each other as often as they could. Who could blame them? Being a superhero and a kid was overwhelming most of the time. Sometimes they needed a listening ear or a supportive shoulder to cry on every now and then, and getting the opportunity to chill and explore a whole new world for them was always a thrill.

(Miles himself could never deny the excitement of getting to go to Mumbattan for shopping trips every so often, either.)

So with all of that in mind it was tempting to, after seeing the long and lanky punk Spiderman climb through his own multi-colored portal, ask Hobie if he could go back to New London with him. He needed to get something off of his chest.

Hobie, languidly as ever, hikes a skinny shoulder up in a nonchalant shrug and goes “ye’ sure, mate. Somethin’ up, or?”

Pavitr leans forward from his conversation with Gwen-- the little snoop, goddamnit-- and swallows a particularly big bite of his sandwich. “Oooooh, Miles and Hobie? Alone, in New London? Wow!” He elbows Gwen, who shakes her head and snorts into her bottled juice.

Miles puffs up. “Hey, it’s not like that! We just need to talk. In private. Nothing’s wrong, I uh… I just need some advice. That’s all!”

Hobie’s grin is full of teeth. “Waidaminnit. Miles Morales... Thee Great Miles Morales, needin’ my advice? Interesting!” His freeform locs bob and wiggle teasingly with every movement of his head.

Feeling put on the spot, Miles pouts as he picks at some lint on his spider suit and finishes off his soda as quickly as he can manage.

Gwen, bless her heart, notices his discomfort and scooches closer to him on the rooftop ledge. “… Is everything alright, by the way? It isn’t anything bad, is it?”

Miles glances at her before returning his gaze to the concrete several stories below. “Uhm, nah. Nah, it’s… y’know, it’s just more inter-dimensional weirdness. But I’m sure I can fix it. I think,”

He then shoots her a grateful smile for her considerate check-in, and pulls his mask back down over the lower half of his face. Gwen understands this as his “I’ll be back for another check-in later,” behavior and simply nods back. She knows not to push him.

“Well,” Hobie unfolds himself from his position on some scaffolding on the side of building, straightening himself up to his full height and stretching, “I’m all finished, then. Prob'ly not a good idea to go swingin’ on full stomachs, though. Let’s take a quick walk before headin’ home, yeah?”

Miles grabs Hobie’s hand and helps him hoist himself up over the ledge, and the teens all gather their trash into one plastic bag together. They chatter and slip their masks on as they casually walk down the side of the half-constructed building, finally touching down onto the concrete alleyways and relishing the quiet of an empty block before heading to the congested streets of downtown Brooklyn.

They all eventually bid each other their farewells after a few quick photo ops from excited New Yorkers, but of course not before Pavitr leans into Miles’ ear conspiratorially and whispers: “Let me know how it goes, bro! Good luck!”

Pav punches Miles on the shoulder lightly and winks at him, then he does a backflip into his golden-bright portal and blinks out of existence.

Miles rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Does he want me and Hobie to be together, or me and you? I can never tell with that guy,” he groans at Gwen, whose shoulders are shaking with badly-concealed laughter.

“I think he just watches too many of those soap operas, honestly. Trashy daytime TV will do that to a guy sometimes.” She quips just as humorlessly.

Miles gives her a sidelong glance and a smirk. “Right. Rots your brain. Poor Pav!”

Gwen and Hobie laugh at that as Gwen pulls up her own portal.

“I’m thinkin’ we need t’ stage an intervention, really.” Hobie adds.

“Yes, and soon,” Miles points out.

“I’ll see what I can do to pull him away from those shows, but you know how his aunt is,” Gwen snorts. “Plus, I’m pretty sure Pav is just a huge romantic anyways, soaps or no soaps.”

“When I’ve got relationship issues, I guess I know the guy to go to, then,” Miles shrugs, then throws Gwen a casual salute goodbye.

She stands in front of white and multi-colored splotches of watercolor floating out from her dimensional portal as she salutes Miles back, giving Hobie a quick wave. “Let me know how your little inter-dimensional weirdness problem goes too, Miles! Talk to us in the groupchat every once in a while!”

And like that, she’s gone.

So now Hobie and Miles were left alone together.

Standing in the middle of a dirty alleyway on a cold autumn afternoon wasn’t Miles’ exact definition of a good time, though… why wasn’t Hobie opening his own portal right now? Miles turns his mask’s gigantic white eyes up to his dimensional variant (and boy was that a weird thing to think about when Hobie brought that up one day during a Spider Sleepover at Gwen’s) and gives him a pointed stare.

Hobie’s own painted eyes meet his.

“So…” Miles says.

“So…” Hobie says, his grin evident in his voice.

“Are we or are we not going back to yours?” Miles stuck his fists on his hips impatiently.

“First,” Hobie says as he holds up a long skinny finger, “I gotta know what this is about. ‘Cause we all know you, Miles. I don’t wanna enable any avoidant behaviors, mate. You know how it is.”

“What?!” Miles throws up his hands in the air. “Dude! SO not cool! You are not my dad.”

Hobie shakes his head. “You know I’m right, though. This ain’t about your parents, is it?”

Goddamn Hobie and his parental instincts. When is this guy ever going to get off of mom duty?

Miles huffs. “No, Hobie. It’s not. Look. I just, uh… if you don’t wanna go back to your dimension, then can we get away from like… this area in general, please?”

Hobie hummed in thought, then shrugged and shot a web up to a nearby street lamp. Together, the two Spidermen swung through the concrete jungle that was earth-1610’s New York City until they ended up somewhere near the Financial District in Manhattan, happening upon a sort of indoor rooftop terrace party that a bunch of corporate yuppie-looking people were enjoying behind giant glass windows. A few of those yuppies were out onto the actual rooftop smoking and talking amongst themselves in the cold while the party bumped along behind them.

The sun was setting quickly, and darkness descended upon both Spiderman as they scaled a nearby building and sat on a water tank to secretly watch the party from a little ways away. Miles took solace in the dark most times, and drank up the view of what few stars could be seen in the New York City skyline.

The clouds were scarce on this particular fall evening, so the red and yellow hues on the horizon were completely uninterrupted. Miles’ dimension took on an almost ethereal glow sometimes, and during this time of day, he was more than grateful for it.

Hobie was silent as he watched the sun set alongside Miles, until the entire city was enshrouded in darkness and the stars of the cosmos seemed to have fallen from the heavens and landed right onto the buildings and bridges laid out all before them. Lights from cars making their nightly rounds and tall buildings glittered all around them, and just beyond the skyscrapers, bits of the Upper Bay could be seen shimmering and reflecting the glittery light right back.

It was breathtaking. Beautiful.

But time was running out. They couldn’t sit here and watch the scenery and the people from several hundred feet away forever. Miles also knew Hobie had stuff to deal with in his own world, a million miles away from anything he could ever know. With a world-weary sigh, Miles finally takes his mask off fully and winds it up and around his hands, over and over.

“Your problem botherin’ you that much, Mi?” Hobie grins at his friend, taking his own mask off and running a hand through his locs.

“It’s just… I…” Miles chews on the inside of his cheek, wondering how to proceed.

It really was a weird problem to have, all things considered. There aren't many instances where someone pisses off a dimensional variant of their friend, and they have another version of that very same friend right by their side to ask how to even go about fixing the rift they caused in the first place.

“It’s just that I... like… I messed up pretty badly, right? And I know it’s totally my fault,” Miles is speaking quickly now, bottled up words now spilling forth like water, “but my anxiety started spiking up randomly out of nowhere and I just blew it, man. I wasn’t really thinking. Well, actually, I was. I was overthinking but I didn’t really mean to leave this guy hanging for so long afterwards and--”

Hobie throws a leg over his other one, propping himself onto an arm and leaning back to face Miles. “Okay. Okay, Miles, that’s cool. Thanks for the disclaimer, bruv, but we’re gonna have to start from the beginning.” He chuckles.

Miles laughs nervously. “Right, right. Yeah,” he takes a breath, licks his lips and tries again.

“So… on my first day of school I bumped into… you. I mean, not you, I mean like my dimension’s version of you.”

Hobie raised a pierced brow. “Wait, there’s another me here, too?”

“Yeah, yeah and I just almost crashed right into-- wait.” Miles’ brain took a second to buffer. “What do you mean too?”

“Ehhh, we found another me in some odd dimension or another. Y’know, like, one of those ones we don’t go to often. It was whatever,” Hobie shrugs casually.

Miles had a couple of questions about that but he decided to stick to the topic and not get distracted for now. “... Right, cool. So yeah, I almost crashed into you at Visions, except it wasn’t you.”

Hobie nodded. “You almost crashed into Not Me. Got it.”

“… Because I was late for class and not really, uh, thinking. Like at all. But it was you, you know what I mean? Not You is super bad at directions and navigating buildings, I guess, so I helped him out. Annddd I guess he wanted to be my friend afterwards, but.”

“Mhmm,” Hobie hums, in a tone that sounded a lot like him saying go on, then.

“Did you, uh… did you know your name is Jones sometimes?” Miles scratches at his ear awkwardly. “Hobie Jones, not Hobie Brown. It was weird when I found out, because another student said his full name and so that’s how I found out in the first place,”

Hobie inhales. “Hmm! Interesting. Dunno that I like the sound of that, if we’re gonna be honest here. Doesn’t really roll off the tongue the same, I think. But alright. Why’s that so important?”

“Uhhh,”

Hm. Shit. This was the part Miles dreaded getting to in the first place.

How was he going to put into words the weird dread that befell him upon learning that this Jones character might very well be this dimension’s version of his MJ? How could he possibly explain the thrilling electricity that races up and down his spine everytime he totally does not think about dating, kissing, possibly even having children with this other Hobie? How was he going to get that across to this super-cool, super-hot, super-put-together version of him?

Speaking those kinds of words out loud right to Hobie’s chiseled face made Miles slightly nauseous. He opted to circumnavigate that little problem altogether.

“Listen, don’t ask, okay? Seriously, man, I’m not playin’. Buuuut… if I pissed you off real bad, how would. Like, how could I make it up to you, theoretically speaking?”

Hobie exhaled a laugh. Miles could see his bright grin even in the low lighting of the night. “Huh? How’d you go from helpin’ Not Me out to pissin’ ‘im off all of the sudden? We’re missin' a step there, Milesie. C’mon now,”

Miles laughed too. “Ho-biieee, I already told you, man!” He hated how whiny he sounded, but this really wasn’t the time. “You cannot ask me about it!”

Hobie tossed his head like a horse. “Oh my god, mate. I can’t give ya solid advice when I don’t even know what the hell I’m givin’ advice for. I gotta know what happened, bruv, what’d ya do?”

“Just--! Ugh,” Miles deflated. “I maybe sorta... ditched him all of a sudden. Like, out of nowhere. When he, uh, when he needed me.”

Hobie’s glittering eyes bore holes into Miles’ hot face. “Mhmm? Why for?”

“Hobie, for the love of all that is good in the world, just--! Throw me a bone, here, man. I am dying of embarrassment right now!” He buried his face in his hands as Hobie rocked back with laughter.

“Why’d ya ditch ‘im?! That doesn’t sound like ya, Mi. Sounds like a real wick thing, but not a Morales thing to do. C’mon, what did Not Me say to you? You can pretend I’m him and I’ll apologize an’ everything.”

“No no no no, Hobie you don’t get it,” Miles sighed. “He didn’t do or say anything. That’s the thing. I just… I freaked out I guess, when I looked up his name and saw that he was a super accomplished model and everything. He’s got thousands of followers on Flickstagram, even. But I just…! I dunno what my brain was doing to me, once I saw that. I guess I just had a mini panic attack and just… bounced. Then, obviously I had tons of homework and Spiderman stuff to deal with, so ever since then, we’ve just been avoiding each other in the halls and I haven’t had any time to even tell him anything. I really messed up, man.”

Hobie was unnervingly silent as he thought for a good minute. The night had really fallen thick onto the city and the temperatures were dropping fast. Miles could barely see his own breath clouding in front of him or even Hobie’s face now that the darkness completely enshrouded them both, and it made him a little nervous.

“So…” Miles prodded carefully.

“Super accomplished model and everything, eh?” Hobie quietly asked after a little while. Miles couldn’t see Hobie’s expression, but he could hear the rhythmic rubbing of fabric against fabric as Hobie rubbed at his arm with a gloved hand.

“Uhhyup.” Miles confirmed.

“Hm. Utterly fascinated now, mate. Tell me more about this other me, then. He cool like me, or a total neurotic space cadet?”

Miles rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, I can’t tell you much. We haven’t gotten to talk much. I guess you can be the judge, here’s his social media here...”

He then pulls his phone out of a recently-added pocket he found the time to sew onto his suit, taking inspiration from his mother’s own yoga leggings that she got as a birthday gift a few months before. The fact that spandex was able to hold so much but still stay so snug against your body was nothing short of a modern miracle, in Miles’ opinion. He was grateful for it now as he unlocked his phone and tapped on Hobie M. Jones’ page right out of the search history on his phone’s Flickstagram app.

Once he hands his phone to his friend, he has to resist the urge to suck in a breath as he watches the bright light from his screen illuminate Hobie’s features in ways he’s never seen before.

Hobie takes a second to scroll for a bit and Miles watches as the light plays across his features with just a bit more rapt attention than he normally would. Must be getting late, and Miles’ brain has historically been known not to work very well when he was tired.

Then, Hobie handed the phone back to Miles and folded his arms across his knees.

“Interesting, interesting,” was all he muttered. Thankfully, he did not comment on the “M. Jones” part of the username.

Miles tried lightening the mood. “Let me guess. You hate him because he’s not a fascist-fighting punk like you, huh.”

“I can’t be th’ judge of that, Miles. You know social media ain’t real life, and all that just looked like his portfolio to me, if we’re gonna be honest.” He checked his spiked bracelet in the light of Miles’ lit up screen. “I think that this other me doesn’t really feel too comfortable openin’ up and lettin’ other people see who he really is, though. So if you do go off an’ apologize to ‘im, I don’t think it’ll be very easy to gain his trust back.”

“Hold on,” Miles shakes his head and tucks his phone away again. “You got all that from looking at his Flicksta for not even a minute? How do you even know all of that?”

“’Cause he’s me, bruv. I know that look on his face, on those candids. Even them professional shots look… like, well, I dunno how t’ explain it. I guess it’s just sort of like--”

“If you know, you know?” Miles puts in.

“Mm,” Hobie smiles and nods. “Yep. That. He’s… withdrawn. Held back. I ‘unno… doesn’t seem like he has many friends.”

Miles sits back to think about the distant and carefully-put together mask that Hobie Jones slipped onto his face back when an annoying student butted into their conversation just before 2nd period that fateful day. Not to mention how famous he seemed, that the whole school wanted to pull him into a million different directions just for some selfies and autographs in general…

“He’s famous. He has a billboard up near the school, even,” Miles says without thinking.

“That explains it, then.”

Miles thought aloud for a bit. “He told me that I was the only person in the world who didn’t look at him like he was made out of solid gold. Hmmm,”

“Right then. That’s a start, eh?”

Miles sighed. “I-if… if someone who you thought could be like, your only friend in the whole world. Your only real friend… if that person abandoned you out of nowhere, with no explanation… how would I go about making it up to you?”

Hobie doesn’t comment on the phrasing of that question, either. He lays a warm hand on Miles’ cold shoulder and squeezes.

“Listen, Mi. You’re real special, you already know that. If he liked ya enough to wanna be your friend the very same day you two met, then I bet you can come up with somethin’ that’ll stick eventually. That being said… a little food ain’t never hurt no one.”

They stare at each other in the dark for a second.

“Uh, what?” Miles asks.

“Y’know. Like a peace offering. Bring ‘im a peace offering, make your apology, and then leave the poor kid alone. Let ‘im sorta… well, let ‘im kinda just chase you a little bit, right?”

Miles’ brow was raised high now. “What, like. Just leave some food and a note for him at lunch or something? Dude, that is so lame!”

“It’s about the mystique, mate. Trust me. Gotta keep the intrigue up, don’t crowd him too much or else you’ll scare man away, right? I hate when people grovel at my feet if I’m gonna be dead honest with ya. Don’t make too much of a big deal of it, and he just might forgive ya. You two'll be holdin' hands in no time,”

“Is that it? Is it really that easy?” Miles was skeptical.

Hobie shrugs and removes his hand from Miles’ shoulder. “Hell if I know, but if he’s anything like me, it just might work. Just be prepared to take it on the chin if he doesn’t forgive you in the end, though. Gettin’ ditched like that with no warning’s a bit hard on someone who’s never had any friends to lean on in the first place.”

Made sense to Miles. He shrugged, nodded, and then had only one question left to ask.

“… Cool. Got it. So, uh. What kinda food do you like, anyways?”

♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

And that was how Miles ended up making a quick run (swing, really) over to his favorite Jamaican store for a dinner plate with some beef patties thrown in during the next day’s lunch period.

He couldn’t afford to be seen by security, so he suited up at his usual place on the rooftop of the school and sailed down to retrieve his peace offering as quickly as he could before lunch was over.

What luck, that he had the same lunch as Hobie Jones! Made this whole run a pretty easy thing to do at all, which was always a bonus.

Once he made his way back to the school, he hurriedly stuffed his mask back into his bag and practically jumped back into his uniform, not even taking the time to stop and check if his suit was properly hidden. No time for that, when the period was almost over and he hadn’t even gotten a bite to eat for himself.

Miles also took the time to write up what he hoped was a sufficiently appropriate apology note the previous night after getting back to his dorm room at a late hour, and he tucked that into the crinkled paper bag as carefully as he could manage. A grease-stained apology note was definitely not a cool thing to receive, especially from someone who wronged you out of nowhere and wasn’t even man enough to say that apology to your face.

He arranged everything as best he could while flying down several flights of stairs down to the cafeteria.

Once Miles pushes past the double doors into the large cafeteria area, he feels the tightness in his chest and the heat radiating from his gut outwards intensify more as he gets closer to his target.

It takes a bit of wandering to finally spot Hobie, but then Miles sees him: sat at a table near the center of the room. He’s surrounded by a bunch of fake friends all talking loudly over one another and trading phones over their meals. Hobie Jones himself looks forlorn even when in the middle of a group, surrounded on all sides by bodies he doesn’t even look directly at, even when he turns his head slightly to speak to them.

Well, shit.

Miles was not expecting Hobie to have fallen into so large a group of friends so soon. He spotted the same girl who pulled him aside for a selfie that one time sat at the same table, and her and her little posse were just gossiping loudly about any and everyone.

Miles found his feet stuck to the floor upon finally laying eyes on the scene.

Ugh. God. A bunch of preps poking their noses into his and Hobie’s business while probably begging to read the very private note that Miles wrote for him was absolutely not anywhere in his list of things he’d like to experience today.

So Miles did a sudden about-face and walked away quickly, before he was even spotted.

Plan B was set in motion, then: give the bag over to Hobie before the next period.

Miles always dreaded the class he and Hobie shared right after lunch. The awkwardness subsided after a while, since it was kinda hard to feel so bad about The Incident when the entire class had to cram for quizzes and do research for essays, but the pit in Miles’ stomach as he purposefully averted his gaze away from that corner of the room was never easy to ignore.

But now, after weeks of gloom and doom, Miles found himself actually being excited for the bell to ring. He quietly made his way upstairs to the top level and slipped into the classroom as gracefully as he could manage.

Sure, he was nervous as hell about it all, at the end of the day. But he wanted this little problem that’s been put away for far too long to just… finally be done and over with. If for nothing else, he just wanted one less student at Visions hating his guts, really.

He placed the paper bag onto Hobie’s chair and scooted it underneath the desk to hide it from the rest of the classroom. The last thing he needed was some other nosy student swiping it up and rifling through the contents before Hobie could see it.

Miles ate part of his sandwich in the peace and quiet of the classroom, enjoying what precious little minutes he had until the bell rang and everyone-- including the teacher-- filed in to start the class’s lessons of the day.

♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

Miles’ simple plan was a success, just as his buddy Hobie Brown had predicted.

Hobie Jones had read the note quietly in his corner of the room and hastily shoved the dinner plate into his backpack soon after.

Miles didn’t know if that meant he was forgiven or not, but at least he took the (probably cold) food with him and read the note without tearing it up into a million pieces, so at least Miles had that going for him.

There was one last step to really clinch the victory, though; an invitation to meet up at the rooftop later that day, before the last bell finally rung and let all of the kids out of the school for the day. Miles still had a lot to get off his chest that he couldn’t quite lay down on paper, and he needed to properly apologize to Hobie’s face to finally put his conscience at ease.

Whether or not Hobie took the invitation was left up in the air, really.

Miles made sure to try and get a head start so he could make it up there before Hobie could, but he made sure to add “be up at the rooftop by 3:30pm if you’re coming or I’m bouncing” to the end of the note, because as much as he wanted to make amends with his dimension’s Hobie, he was not going to let petty school drama get in the way of Spiderman-ing.

Miles was a man of standards, and he held himself to some level of professionalism, thank you very much!

It was cold that day, very cold.

Miles was lowkey regretting his decision to meet outside now as he tucked his chin deeper into his big puffer jacket, warming his hands with his warm breath before shoving them into his pockets.

He hoped Hobie had gotten used to getting around the hallways a bit more now, and that he could find his way up to the roof level without becoming completely lost and just giving up entirely.

As the minutes crawled by, Miles found himself unlocking and locking his phone multiple times, checking the time, checking for any notifications to distract himself, and wondering just why he decided on the roof to meet instead of, say, his dorm room hallway or whatever.

Then, the roof access door slowly swung open, and there stood Hobie M. Jones in all his six-foot-something glory.

Miles sucked in his breath as Hobie’s big brown eyes scanned the roof and fell upon his face, and the both of them stood rooted to their spots for a split second like deer in headlights.

Then Hobie grunted, tugged at his ponytail to let it loose, and his long dreads fell all around his face in one graceful movement. Miles felt his mouth go dry.

Miles’ feet moved on their own. They met in the middle, and a strong wind rushed through to tousle Hobie’s impressive locs some more as they both stared each other down.

Miles finally opened his mouth to speak, feeling his voice catching in his throat for a split second, before being interrupted anyways.

“You don’t need to apologize,” Hobie says quickly, tucking his own chin into his expensive-looking jacket’s collar as well.

Miles’ brain bluescreened. “Wait, wha?”

Hobie huffed out a laugh, the vapors of his breath being carried away in the chilly wind like dandelion seeds. “I’m being serious, man. It’s… it’s cool, honestly. I get why you ditched me. It happens all the time,”

Miles’ heart sinks. “N-no, Hobie, look. I really messed up and I felt like I had to-- wait, what do you mean all the time?”

Miles had a sweeping feeling of déja vu overcome him then.

Hobie chuckled ruefully, shrugging as he shoves his hands deeper into his own pockets, mirroring Miles. “I mean, like… you think you’re the only one who ever ran for the hills after seeing how famous I was? It just happens. That’s my life, I guess.”

Miles’ lower lip stuck out a bit. “But that’s… dude. That is so depressing!”

Hobie shook his head, tossing a loc out of his face. “Sure, but it’s… it’s just my life. It’s just how things are when you’re a model around here.”

They looked sadly into each other’s eyes before Hobie averts his gaze to his shoes, scuffing the toe on the roof floor for a second before looking back up and continuing.

“… You, uhm. How’d you… how’d you know that I like Jamaican food, though? I’ve never told anyone about that before. Nobody but my family, anyways.”

“Uhh, lucky guess?” Miles offers him a lopsided grin.

Hobie smiles for real this time, the corners of his eyes crinkling just like his earth-138 counterpart. “You really are a weird guy, just like you said before. What else did you want to tell me, before we both gotta bounce?”

Miles gaped at him like a fish. “You… you have to let me apologize, though. Like actually. Before we both have to go.”

Hobie nodded. “Okay. I’m all ears,”

Miles took a deep breath. “I…!" His voice caught in his throat for a second. "Uh. Do you wanna maybe… hang out, like outside of school sometime? Maybe grab some more Jamaican food from my favorite place?”

Hobie looks at him with an unreadable expression on his face. “You… that’s your apology?”

Miles sighed. “I’m bad at conflict management, man. Just let me treat you to some more lunch and then… maybe we can just let this whole thing go, yeah? You won’t ever have to talk to me again after this, I promise!”

“You are seriously sending me mixed signals here,” Hobie says. But he doesn’t seem opposed to the idea.

“I know, I know! But please, just humor me, man. We can do it this weekend, even. I just… feel like a total dick after what I did and I wanna be able to actually make it up to you.”

Hobie directs his shy smile back down to the ground. “Jesus,” he mutters.

Miles holds his palms forward. “What? Is that a no?”

Hobie laughs, full and bright and it-- fuck-- it fills Miles with a dizzying thrill that makes him laugh, too!

“Fine… but if you ditch me again this time, you asshole--” Hobie grabs the front of Miles’ jacket and yanks it towards him, putting the both of them closer together and making a complete heatwave roll through Miles’ nerves, “I will-- uh,”

Miles doesn’t register why Hobie stops speaking all of a sudden until his eyes slowly follow down to what he’s looking at, and then both of their hearts stop at the same time.

In Miles’ earlier haste to jump into his clothing after his meal run, he forgot to button a few buttons on his shirt, which left his very visibly black and red suit out in the open with just one small yank of his coat’s zipper. The top of his red spider emblem shone bright against the dark spandex.

For a second, the world stopped. The wind stopped blowing, the cars down below stopped honking, Miles stopped breathing.

Then, he hastily took a step back and cleared his throat, hoping against hope that Hobie would not recognize the spider suit so easily.

“S-so, yeah? You’ll go? I, uh, promise I won’t stand you up if you do. We can, uhm. Exchange numbers if you want--” here, Miles starts fumbling around his pockets for his phone, a device that he clung onto like a lifeline moments ago now almost completely forgotten in the excitement of the situation.

Hobie swallows and takes a step back also. “Y-yeah… yeah, sure. Let’s uhm. Let’s link up later, then.”

Miles lets Hobie input his digits into his contact list, and then bids him farewell.

“I’ll text you later, okay? Gotta go now, bye!”

Miles almost wants to throw himself off the roof of the school just to land on the concrete sidewalks below with a splat. A flattened spider. It’s what he deserves, honestly.

But he swallows his embarrassment and rushes down the stairs towards his own dorm room, instead.

He seriously, seriously hopes Hobie didn't recognize his spider suit, goddamn!

Once Miles gets to his room, he sags against the door with a sigh and shrugs off his puffer jacket. Then, he fishes his phone out of the jacket’s pocket and flicks the screen on, which now has Hobie Jones’ digits input into it under the name of “MJ (from Visions)”.

Miles throws himself into his and Ganke’s shared computer chair and twirls over to the window.

It’s Miles. I am not ditching you this time, PROMISE, he sends over to the number.

A few minutes later, he gets a response and his stomach flutters with the chime.

You better not, Hobie playfully teases. I know where you sleep…

A few more knife emojis accompany the texts and Miles laughs out loud. Then he bites his lip.

Fuck… damn. This really is earth-1610’s version of MJ, huh. The name beamed straight into his eyeballs from where it sat right at the top of his messages and it continued to haunt him as he got his laptop out for the night to finally make some more leeway on his English essay.

Miles went to bed that night dreaming of him and a red-headed Hobie Jones holding Mayday.

#spiderverse #hobie brown #miles morales #punkflower #mine #*stadium cheering* miles did it!!! he did it!#with his awkward spider rizz he secured a dat-- i mean a hangout with hobie mfing jones!!#stay tuned to see what happens in part three 👀#and who knows..... there just might also be a part four.....................#<_<#we just might have to see!#also goddamn i know that pic i drew and threw in there is. bad. but ive been playing with markers lately since i bought them #so i figured i'd also use this fic lowkey as practice lmfao #pls excuse the weird mistakes and bad coloring overall. its been years. IM TRYING OK 😭#gonna hopefully add in a much better drawing to the next installment. just gotta practice more is all!#also this is my 1st time writing out hobie brown's dialogue with tha accent n everything #lemme kno how i did 👍 i tried not to make the accent TOO cringey to read!

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changbunnies · 1 year

Text

White Lines and Red Lights (18+)

♡ Pairing: Han Jisung x fem!Reader

♡ Genre: college au, idiots in love (they are so oblivious), best friends to lovers, mutual pining, basically pure fluff, a smidge of angst? (it's barely there, mostly due to perceived one-sided pining that is in reality not at all one-sided lmao)

♡ Word Count: 13.4k (i may have gotten carried away)

♡ Summary: The spring semester is over, and summer break is sure to be full of fun and good memories for Y/N and her best friend, Jisung. The only problem being, they are both hopelessly in love with each other, and completely oblivious to how the other one feels.

♡ Warnings: reader's major isn't specified but is implied to be creative, jisung's major is also not specified but is in music, alcohol consumption, mentions of food and eating, many uses of the word "fuck" lol, lmk if i missed anything you think should be listed here !

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): slightly inexperienced sex (neither reader or jisung are virgins, but they don't have tons of experience either), lighthearted but also romantic sex?, petnames (baby), a lot of kissing. like so much kissing, nipple play, handjob, oral (m rec), fingering (f receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected piv, creampie (reader is on birth control)

♡ Notes: this was written for the @skzwritingcafe prompt "summertime confessions" ! i hope you like it and as usual, if you’re interested you can check out my fic rec and feedback blog @stray-dreams

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Hell is finally over! That’s what you’ve been happily telling yourself since 2:30 p.m, when the last of your final exams were complete and all assignment deadlines were met.

Did you reach the end of all your trials and tribulations with a passing grade? That you weren’t entirely sure of, but the instant relief when the clock met the fated hour expelled any worries instantly from your mind. It’s a problem for future you, your brain decided, because now there was room for one thing and one thing only: fun!

You were beyond ready to turn your brain off, to indulge in some much needed fun to clear the fog in your head, and to then settle into comfort and relaxation. You hadn’t had a moment of joy or peace in weeks, and you were most definitely due for it; the thin line that was your sanity could only handle so much more stress before it snapped.

And that’s what you’ve spent the last hour getting ready for– an end of semester celebration with friends, a small reward after the grueling study efforts intended to revitalize those that turned into zombies over the course of finals week.

Parties aren’t typically your thing, being much too loud and chaotic for your tastes, but how could you say no when said party was being held by your best friend and his 2 roommates? And after the literal hell you endured during the last semester, and especially during this last week, you needed a night with your friends more than you needed oxygen.

“You’re here!” Chan greets you with a smile after he opens the door, happy to see you after weeks of being stuck in the confines of your bedroom, having turned into an effective study machine.

“Hi Channie,” you return his smile as you step fully inside, giving him a quick hug after the door shuts behind you. “Where’s Jisung?” you waste no time in asking, eager to see the person you cared about most (no offense intended to your other friends.)

It felt awful not having time to see him the last few weeks; the only thing that gave you comfort during that time was knowing that he was equally as busy meeting assignment deadlines and studying for his finals as you were.

You wished you could’ve studied together, like you did when you were kids, but different majors meant there wasn’t as much crossover in what you were learning as there once was. But still, you took solace in knowing you weren’t alone during the struggle; at least, metaphorically you weren’t.

Chan points you to the kitchen, and you thank him before you make the short walk there, a bounce in your step as happiness settles over you for the first time in what feels like ages. It doesn’t take you long to spot him, standing near the counter with his other roommate Changbin, as well as with a handful of other friends he’s made in his major.

“Sungie, I missed you!” you call as you jump him for a hug, which very nearly knocks him over. He yells out in surprise, just barely managing to keep his hand steady to save his drink as he shifts his weight to maintain his balance, stabilizing himself on his heel.

“Y/N!” Jisung yelps when your arms squeeze him tightly, and he lets Changbin take his drink from his hand to safely secure it elsewhere. He returns your hug as soon as he’s able, and you close your eyes before you smile at him, already feeling your drained battery recharging.

“Jeez, I know you missed me, but warn me next time! You almost gave me a heart attack,” Jisung mumbles his complaint in your ear, but you can tell by the smile he has on his face and squeeze in his arms that he’s missed you just as much, this hug being as healing for him as it is for you.

However, he meant it when he said you almost gave him a heart attack, though it’s not for the reasons you might think. First: it’s true he was totally unprepared for you to launch at him with the intent to squeeze him into a hug, but that wasn’t the problem.

The real problem was that you looked so pretty, and after weeks without seeing your face, his heart was left with no defense against your charms. He’d been reset to zero, it seemed– his built up resistance and tolerance reduced to nothing.

And that went hand in hand with the second problem: his heart was beating out of control! You’re holding him so tightly, smiling at him so brightly, eyes sparkling under the fluorescence of the mundane kitchen light. He didn’t understand how something as small and trivial as the lighting in the room seemed to add to your appeal, but it did.

Jisung steals a glance at his roommates, who are looking with a knowing smile that makes him want to sink into himself and hide. Why is this so embarrassing? You however seem as oblivious to how he feels about you as ever, much to his relief. His impossibly large crush on you will assuredly be getting in the way tonight, but he can definitely play it off, right? …right?

Jisung ended up not drinking for the rest of the night, much too afraid of how flippant his mouth would become if he had too much alcohol in his system– the last thing he needed was to do something as cliche and embarrassing as drunkenly confessing all his feelings to his best friend. Though, even without the drink in his system, this night was killing him.

Why did you have to smile at him so prettily while pulling him to dance with you? Why did you have to giggle at him so sweetly when he made a joke? And why did you have to lean so close every time you spoke to him?

He cursed his past self for deciding to play the music so loudly, because the close proximity and feeling your breath against his ear every time you wanted to tell him something was making his heart feel like it was going to explode.

You were wearing the perfume that he once accidentally let slip was his favorite of yours. He couldn’t remember the exact name of it, but the sweet, citrusy smell filled his nostrils and reminded him of all the times in the past he was close enough to you to inhale it.

Tight hugs, cuddling on his sofa on the weekends, laying in your bed watching anime until it was time for him to go home– all memories he cherished, because they were spent with you. And the moment he unintentionally admitted how much he loved the smell of your perfume, it seemed like you were always wearing it, and it drove him crazy.

It lingered on everything– or maybe he just found it easy to recognize given how attuned to you he was; and now with the distance you’d had, and how much he’d missed you the last few weeks, it was like your perfume was taking over his senses.

Jisung almost couldn’t think straight– it was like he was drunk, but on something entirely different from everyone else inside his apartment. To calm himself down, and reset his senses, he stepped out on the balcony for some time, willing his heart to calm by using the fresh air as a conduit.

By the time Jisung enters the apartment again following his latest balcony outing, most of his friends have gone home with their respective designated drivers, with Chan offering to call the stragglers an uber or a spot to crash somewhere in the apartment. Chan was always like that during parties– the self appointed dad of sorts, always making sure everyone was well taken care of.

He looks past his friends to see you alone on the sofa, chugging a water bottle that he assumes Chan gave to you. “Trying to sober up?” Jisung asks as he takes a seat next to you, and you nod, making an affirming noise as you continue to take large sips from the bottle.

“Gotta stay hydrated too if I don’t want to feel all this tomorrow,” you finally respond when you’ve swallowed down the last of the water, though you're sure you didn’t drink enough alcohol to get a hangover. Your legs will likely be killing you more than anything, given all the dancing and jumping around you did.

“Right, wouldn’t want you to end up like Changbin,” Jisung replies and you laugh as you recall the memory of a very intoxicated Changbin, who had way too much to drink in a short span of time but insisted he wasn't drunk.

He was incredibly affectionate, coming up to everyone to squeeze them into hugs and tell them he loves them, and dancing to girl group songs with so much passion that you’d think he was in some sort of idol audition.

Changbin passed out first, to no one's surprise, and he had to be carried to his bed by an exasperated Chan while you and Jisung giggled to yourselves at the display, deciding you would both definitely be teasing him about it tomorrow.

“I’ve never seen him like that– he was still himself but like. Times a million,” you laugh, thinking about when a newjeans song came on and it made him effectively lose his mind. “Oh it’s late,” you say absentmindedly after some time spent talking passes, checking your phone for the first time all night.

Jisung peeks over, eyes widening when he sees the “02:37” displayed brightly on your screen. It was the latest he’d (voluntarily) stayed up in months; where did the time even go? “Guess we should sleep, huh? I can give you my bed, I’ll sleep here so–”

“No way, we’ve talked about this before! I don’t wanna kick you out of your own room– just share your bed with me,” you said, almost sternly. It was true– you both had countless sleepovers over the course of your friendship, both planned and accidental, and every time he offered to sleep on the sofa, you vehemently refused.

However, those times you weren’t inebriated, and this time you definitely were (even if it was only mildly.) And besides that, with how weak he’s been over you all night, he’s not sure if his heart will even let him fall asleep if you’re next to him.

“I-I mean– are you sure? You’ve been drinking so.. I dunno, I just like– didn't want it to be weird, I guess?” Jisung stumbles over his words way more than he wishes, and the way you giggle at him makes him want to crawl into a hole and never come out. Way to play it cool, Jisung! If you weren’t being obvious about your feelings before, you definitely are now, idiot!

“C’mon Ji, you know I trust you with like, my entire life. It won’t be weird,” you answer with a smile meant to assure him, but all it does is make his heart pound even harder. It’s unfair how effortlessly flustered you make him.

“As long as you’re sure then– yeah, let’s go to bed,” he says as he helps you to your feet, and while you definitely didn’t drink enough for your legs to be unstable, you appreciate the sweet gesture.

The minute you’re in his room, you flop right in the middle of his bed, a large sigh leaving you– you didn’t realize how actually exhausted you are until now. “Don’t fall asleep like that please, I don’t wanna sleep on the couch now that you’ve promised I can have my bed,” Jisung says as he walks over to his dresser, and you laugh in response.

“I won’t, promise!” You sit up quickly, wrapping yourself up in his comforter as you do– you won’t fall asleep, but you can at least still be cozy.

“You really should’ve brought a change of clothes if you were going to crash here,” Jisung jokingly complains you as he scrounges through his drawers for something that will fit you comfortably (and that he won’t mind parting with, because he knows he won’t be getting back whatever he gives you; which would be fine if it didn’t fill his head with thoughts about you being his girlfriend.)

“Not my fault! It’s yours for creating the atmosphere,” you argue, arms folding over your chest in a rather mild display of opposition. “What atmosphere?” he laughs as he finally settles on one of his oversized shirts and tosses it over to you.

Comfortable. Secure. Safe. Happy. Loved. Cared for. You could only let loose so much because you were with him, could only have such a good time because he was there doing it with you. “..Fun,” you finally answer, clutching the shirt he gave you in your hands, deciding not to say anything further than that.

Better to avoid that line of thought while you’re recovering from being tipsy, you think– it’d be bad if you suddenly made an admission you weren’t ready to. An accidental confession at this point would risk ruining an otherwise perfect night with your friends.

It doesn’t take long for Jisung to find what he wants to wear to bed, and he leaves the room to allow the two of you to change separately. You put your prior outfit on top of his dresser before returning to his bed, settling underneath the blankets as you wait for him to come back.

You’re lying there for only a few minutes when he returns, turning off the light and carefully crawling in next to you, and finally settling in with his back pressed against yours. You both whisper quiet “good nights” to each other, willing your equally fast hearts to calm enough to sleep.

This isn’t the first time you’ve shared a bed with Jisung, and during the early years of your childhood friendship it never made your heart race the way it does now. You’d usually say something along the lines of “what’s wrong with best friends sharing a bed?”, the act always completely innocent.

You needed to sleep, and you didn’t want Jisung to sacrifice his bed when you could easily share it– it was always as simple as that. But in recent months, you’ve noticed that it stopped being simple; with your back pressed to his, the sound of his gentle breathing behind you, you realized it had started to make your heart race unbelievably fast.

You had begun to notice that same sensation in other moments too– like when he smiled at you after you helped him decide on a concept for one of his assignments, or when he’d call you after a hard day just to hear your voice, with his reason being that “talking to you makes me feel better!”

It was the same for you, of course. Talking to him always made you feel better, a single smile enough to lift the heavy weight off your heart. He always listened, he always cared, and he was always there for you. That’s another reason these last few weeks were so hard for you; you didn’t have Jisung’s support, and not because of any fault of either of you, but because adult life and responsibilities got in the way.

You wanted to make time for him, and you knew he wanted to as well; you still texted each other often, facetimed during the moments you allowed yourselves to rest, and it helped immensely, but also resolidified something you’d thought once before; that without Jisung, your life is impossibly dark. And that without his support, you weren’t sure how you’d get through the difficulty that life brings you.

You sigh and roll over, looking straight at Jisung’s back. You came today to escape grim thoughts, stress, and self doubt, hoping that fun with your friends would shove them all away, but it seems they’ve found their way back to you regardless. It was bound to happen, you suppose, but you hoped they wouldn’t be back for a while at least. But, if there’s any solace to be had, you have Jisung next to you, and he always comforts you even with just his presence alone.

You roll over a lot in your sleep, so when you first do it, Jisung doesn’t react. He figures you’ve just fallen asleep quickly after all the drinking and dancing, and now he can finally truly relax and begin to fall asleep himself.

He’s always tense at first, the close proximity making him nervous and unable to sleep, even if you aren’t face to face– because even though you’re his best friend, it’s an undeniable fact that you’re also a girl. A pretty girl at that, one that he’s silently been crushing on for years.

So when he hears your voice call to him, it’s unexpected, and it makes his heart pick back up in speed as his body tenses once again. “Ji, can you turn around?” you ask, and he freezes a moment, wondering if the remnants of alcohol in your system is what is causing you to ask something so bold.

But no, you’re nowhere near drunk, and he’s probably the only one on earth who thinks the prospect of turning around to face his best friend during a sleepover is “bold.” This is an ordinary request, and it’s not your fault that he finds the action so nerve wracking.

He really needs to get over it so he can go back to being normal around you. “S-Sure,” you hear him stutter quietly, carefully turning to face you. Even in the relative darkness, he can see your features clearly enough to make his breath uneven.

Your pretty eyes, your cute nose, your lips that look so soft and kissable and– “Fuck, stop thinking about it. Get it together, Han Jisung,” he internally scolds himself. He hopes that you can’t hear the sound of his heart beating, or see the blush forming on his cheeks as he stares at you.

“Can I ask you something?” your voice is quiet, almost a whisper. He can tell you’re serious, and he has no idea what you intend to ask, but the possibilities are sending him reeling. Did he stare at you too much today? Did you notice the way his face reddened every time you smiled at him? You were just so pretty that he couldn’t help it and–

Were you going to ask him if he had feelings for you? Were you? Should he be honest if you do? Admit that he’s thought you were pretty for the longest time, has wanted you to look at him romantically for years, had wondered what your lips would feel like on his? God, he really needs his heart and mind to calm down, or he’ll never survive the rest of the night.

“Do you ever wonder.. If you’re doing the right thing?” your question finally breaks him from his whirring thoughts, your voice still quiet and with an unsure hesitance to it.

Jisung’s expression immediately changes to one of care and concern, a bit taken aback by your question but entirely ready to listen to you talk about whatever is on your mind now that he can think clearly. “What do you mean?”

“Like.. with college, I guess. Do you ever think maybe you should be doing something different?” You look him directly in the eyes as you ask, clearly searching for some sort of comfort, an answer that will help you come to terms with whatever complicated emotion you’re dealing with.

“Yeah, sometimes. I mean, I love music, but I’m not guaranteed to go far with it even if I’m good at it. I know that sometimes passion and talent aren’t enough. The people who succeed are usually lucky,” he answers honestly; he’s not sure if that’s what you want to hear, but he knows you value his insight and opinions, even when they differ from yours.

“What makes you keep going then?” You had such a hard time this last semester, and there were more than a few times where you reached a low point and wanted to quit. You were lonely, exhausted, broke, creativity entirely spent.. You questioned whether all that hardship was worth it, and if you’d be better off pursuing something more practical and mundane.

“Well.. It makes me happy. And I know that even if things don’t turn out how I wished, I think it would be more regrettable if I didn’t try, you know? Even when it’s really hard it’s also rewarding, and every day I learn so many things I would’ve never learned alone in my room, or at least, it would’ve taken me forever to get there by myself. I made a lot of new friends too, I have you and other good people to support me, and–”

You nod along to his words, taking them in and humming every once in a while to let him know you're still listening. He’s talking a lot, but you don’t mind that. You’re happy to know what he thinks and feels, his voice is soothing, and you feel less alone knowing he understands you to at least some degree, and is willing to help you through your hardships. That’s all you really needed; for Jisung to hear you, and reply in the thoughtful way he always does.

“And you know I’ll always be there for you, right? If you ever feel like this again, just tell me. I’ll be right there, the minute you call I’ll–” Oh, wait. Your eyes are closed, breath slow and gentle, now completely unresponsive to his words.

You fell asleep while he was talking? How long was he going before he even realized you were no longer listening? His other friends are right- he really does talk way too much sometimes.

He observes you quietly for a moment, giggling to himself when he hears the soft snores leaving you as he takes in your serene expression. He also realizes that the sky has gotten brighter, the sound of birds chirping becoming more prominent with each passing moment. How had the night come and gone so quickly?

That’s what always happens when he’s with you, though– time seems to accelerate, while at the same time feeling like it’s at a stand still. The happy moments pass in the blink of an eye, but simultaneously seems to freeze whenever he stares at you. When you smile and laugh with him, it makes his heart burst, your shining eyes always taking his breath away.

Reaching his hand up carefully, he tucks the hair that has fallen over your face behind your ear, smiling to himself when you unconsciously lean into his light touch. It’s so cute, how even in your sleep you seem to recognize it’s him, indulging in the comfort he offers you. At least, that’s what you’ve told him once before– that one of the reasons you like having sleepovers with him is because his presence makes you feel safe and relaxed.

He's not sure if you even remember saying it, but he was so happy when you told him, and even now it’s something on his mind every time you two share a bed. He just wishes he wasn’t always so tense and nervous whenever you laid next to him, and he wishes he had more courage to always lay face to face and talk like you did tonight. Maybe one day he can hold you closer, wrap his arms around you and let his head rest atop yours.

Maybe he’ll kiss you, too– your lips, your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, anywhere you’ll let him. He can picture the way you’ll giggle at him, how you’ll playfully push him away while complaining that it tickles, and how he’ll wrap his arms around you tighter to keep you trapped in his affection. And when it’s all over he’ll tell you he loves you and–

Wait.

He loves you?

Well, of course he does. You’re his best friend, so of course he loves you! Totally platonically, of course. The fact that he’s had a major crush on you for the past few years doesn’t matter. Nope. Not at all. Surely he’s not literally in love with you, right? Because you’re his best friend and falling in love with your best friend is not only the most cliche thing ever, but definitely a recipe for heartbreak.

So he’s not in love with you– he can’t be. It’s just a simple crush! It doesn’t matter that he constantly thinks about kissing you, or holding your hand while walking together, or how it’d feel for you to lay your head against him while he holds you during movie night. It doesn’t matter that he envisions what going on dates with you would be like, or what life would be like if you moved in together, or what your body would look like bare underneath his, or–

Fuck, he’s so in denial. He’s definitely in love with you, hopelessly so. His cute, endearing best friend, who he can’t seem to ever get out of his head. Do you ever think about him the way he thinks about you? Are you always on his mind, lingering in every thought the way you are for him? He desperately wants to know, but there’s a part of him that is afraid to find out, because what will he do if you don’t feel the same way?

He forces himself to roll back over and close his eyes, because if he doesn’t stop looking at you, he’s never going to be able to stop thinking about it long enough to get some sleep. But even with his back now turned to you, hearing your soft breathing and feeling the dip in his bed from your presence is enough to plague his thoughts and keep the sleep he desperately needs out of reach for what little remains of the night.

It’s been a few weeks since the night that Jisung finally admitted to himself that he’s in love with you, and whoever said being honest with yourself makes things better has definitely never been in love with their best friend, because actually what the fuck. This is the closest to hell he’s ever been, he thinks. Because he can’t seem to go a single moment without thinking about wanting to be romantic with you, and it’s driving him crazy.

Holding your hand and cuddling during movie night, staying up all night on the phone talking about anything and everything, giving you sweet kisses after he tells you how much he loves you– he’s begging his brain to let him think about literally anything else, but it simply refuses. And now, sitting in his car together at a red light, is another such time where wanting to kiss you encompasses all his thoughts.

You had spent time together almost every day since the night of the party now that your schedules were free, but all those times included the additions of your roommates or his. It’s only now, after a day spent at the beach, that the two of you are alone together again (thanks to the combined, scheming efforts of your mutual friends.)

Chan loves the beach, and he goes whenever he can, but today he didn’t want to hangout there alone. He invited you, as well as his roomies and other friends, to come meet him there. And of course, you said yes, and of course, you had the most breathtaking swimsuit on underneath your clothes.

It was almost embarrassing, the way it stole Jisung’s breath away and made his cheeks burn red. He prayed he could blame it on the harsh sun, but there’d be no fooling Changbin, who was snickering behind him.

“When are you going to finally confess?” Changbin asked when you were out of ear shot, and Jisung pouted, both because he was being called out about his feelings, and because he had no fucking idea when, if ever, he’d tell you how he feels.

“I.. don’t know,” he ended up answering honestly, continuing to look in your direction even as he spoke. You were splashing in the water with your mutual friends, your laugh ringing loud in his ears even with the distance between you.

“C’mon, Ji. Summer breaks are practically built for romance. You gotta make a move,” he’d said, and Jisung once again pouted. “Easier said than done,” he mumbled in response, something akin to dread settling in him whenever he thought about the possibility of you rejecting him.

“Jisung,” Changbin started, all sense of joking or teasing having left him, “I’ve been watching you pine over her since the day I met the two of you. You need to tell her, because I don’t know how much more of those looks of yours I can handle.”

“What look?” Jisung asks with a frown, turning his gaze away from where you are. “Like a lost puppy begging for attention,” Changbin answers nonchalantly, and the appalled reaction he gets from Jisung makes him laugh. “But seriously. I’ll ride home with Chan, so why don’t you take her home later? Get some alone time before you drop her off or something?”

“But she came with her roommates. Why wouldn’t she leave with them?” Jisung asked, and Changbin laughed as he shook his head. “You’re so clueless, dude.” It’s common knowledge to everyone who came today that the two of you are so hopelessly in love with each other, but seemingly too oblivious to notice how the other one feels. And if Jisung asked you to spend some alone time with him, you’d say yes in a heartbeat, no questions asked.

Maybe what the two of you needed was a little push– a reason to be alone together, a romantic setting to set the tone and finally get the two of you to move beyond the bounds of friendship. And if Jisung won’t act on his own, Changbin will take it into his own hands; mission “get these two pining idiots together” starts today.

Changbin told Chan, who then told one of your roommates, who then told another. By the time the sun is setting, everyone knows the plan. You would be left alone with Jisung, by any excuse necessary. Thankfully, Chan came in his own car due to his tendency to hit the beach before anyone else, so he and Changbin wouldn’t be leaving Jisung stranded by leaving early.

The two of them left first, with the excuse that they’d be ending their day by hitting the gym– they’d actually just be relaxing on the sofa the rest of the day, but you and Jisung didn’t need to know that. Your roommates took that as their cue to prepare to leave as well, and the group of you helped one another towel dry enough to throw your clothes back on over your swimsuits.

Jisung approached you as soon as he was done himself, waiting for you to finish packing your things in your tote bag before saying anything. “Hey, d-do you want to go get some ice cream?” he asked, mentally cursing himself for stuttering. Since when did asking your best friend if they want to get ice cream become so nerve wracking?

“Of course!” you smiled, turning to your roommates next to see if they wanted to join. They all said no, of course, citing being tired or wanting to shower asap as their reasons, but urged you to enjoy your time with Jisung. You don’t find it weird at all, much too excited about eating ice cream to even begin to realize this was a planned set up.

The sun was just beginning to sink when you arrived at your favorite parlor, excitedly bouncing up to the counter as Jisung trailed behind you with a smile. You decided to be adventurous, picking out a new flavor suited for the summer, while Jisung went with a classic choice of cookie dough.

“Can I have a bite of yours?” it didn’t take long for you to inevitably ask him, and Jisung gave you an overdramatic sigh as he passed it over to you. Trading bites somehow always ended with you eating more of Jisung’s ice cream than he did, but that was okay with him.

He always ordered your favorite flavor, knowing that you can’t resist the temptation of trying the new one, but would end up wanting cookie dough more than whatever new flavor initially enticed you.

It’s a bit of a ritual for him at this point; ordering your favorite while pretending it’s his favorite as well, acting like he's annoyed when you beg him for a bite and eventually end up taking half the bowl while offering him whatever flavor you ordered instead as compensation for his loss.

Do you notice the way he smiles after you take his ice cream from him? The adoration that lingers in his eyes as he watches you happily devour the sweet treat?

You skipped to the car when you were finished, evidently very pleased with your ice cream endeavors and not at all apologetic for stealing all of the cookie dough for yourself, once again oblivious to the way he does it all for you.

That would probably never change, and for the first time, Jisung wondered if that was okay. Did he want it to change? Did he want you to notice? He wasn’t sure what was best anymore.

And now here you both were, sitting at a red light while the sun sinks ever lower in the horizon, blue beginning to spread over the sky and little specks of stars finally becoming visible. Instead of looking at the street as he waits for the light to turn, he looks at you. You just looked so pretty, and all he could think of once again was how badly he wanted to kiss you.

Jisung wished he had words to put what he thought of you other than a simple “pretty” but that’s all that ever came to mind. So, so pretty, impossibly so. Pretty in a way that sunsets and oceans couldn’t ever compare, at least not in his mind– he would always find you better, no comparison ever being good enough to describe what he thought of you.

You’re in your own little world, humming along to the song playing through the speakers and tapping your fingers to the beat. However, it doesn’t take long for you to feel his eyes on you, your body alerting you to his lingering gaze and instructing you to look back at him.

The sight you're met with when you turn your head makes your face immediately burn; Jisung isn’t simply glancing over at you, or trying to check in with you after a tiring day out. He’s blatantly staring at you. “..Ji..?” his name barely leaves you, an unspoken question lingering in the air between you.

Why is he looking at you like that? What was going through his head right now? Your face heats up exponentially, watching as his eyes travel over your features, seeming to take them in deeply. You instinctively hold in a breath when his eyes reach your lips, staring at them with an overt yearning.

Your surroundings fade, music no longer audible, the light of the sinking sun illuminating him beautifully and drawing you even further into his gaze. All there was in this moment was Jisung; he was all you could see, all you could focus on, and it was the same for him with you.

You were always his first thought, always there at the forefront of his mind, but he always tried to push the deeper feelings away, because you’re his best friend and he shouldn’t think of you as anything more than that. But right now, he can’t help it.

His urge to kiss you is so strong, and he knows he can’t resist it the way he usually can. Your eyes that hold the entire world– no, the entire galaxy, his galaxy, in them makes his self control shatter.

Maybe Changbin had a point when he said that summer was perfect for romance. Because the way you look at him, with eyes shining under the twinkling lights that blink on one by one with the fading sun– he loves you, he wants to be with you, and that desire is consuming him.

Your heart races as he leans closer to you, inch by inch. You lose all concept of time passing, a moment that in reality lasts mere seconds instead feeling like an eternity. You close your eyes, waiting; waiting for the moment you’ve craved for ages, for his lips to touch yours for the first time. How long had you pined for him?

It’s hard to say exactly; In high school, when he got his first love confession and accepted it, it broke your heart. But at the time, you thought it was just because it meant he would have less time for you.

With time you moved on, deciding it was important to be happy for your best friend even if it crushed you for reasons you didn’t entirely understand. And eventually you entered your first relationship as well, and for a time you could forget about how lonely you felt from not having Jisung always near you.

Neither of your respective first relationships lasted all that long; high school romances tend to dwindle as college draws near, after all. Life has a tendency to take people to different places, and some realize their ambitions faster than others.

It saddened you at the time, but you weren’t going to alter your life for someone else and you didn’t expect anyone to do that for you either. After all, 20 is awfully early to decide not to follow your dreams for the sake of someone else.

But you and Jisung were still on the same path, and that had to mean something, right? It was like the days where you were distant never even occurred, the both of you picking up where you left off like no time had ever passed.

You were as close as you’d ever been, still seeing each other at every opportunity, even when you were drowning in assignment deadlines and exhaustive study efforts. He made time for you, and you made time for him, even when it was hard. Didn’t that mean something?

Yes, it meant everything– at least it did to you. And so did he; Jisung meant everything to you. He always had, and you think he always will. You can feel his breath on you now, the warmth tickling your skin and your heart feeling like it’s going to burst from out of your chest as the gap between you closes. He’s so close to you, the closest he’s ever been. His lips drawn to yours, closer, closer, and then–

The shrill honk of a car from behind snaps you both from the moment. Jisung opens his eyes quickly, blinking for just a moment as reality settles back over him and he processes what was just about to happen. You do the same, turning your attention back towards the front and seeing that the traffic light had turned green while the two of you were lost in the moment you were sharing.

He swallows, mentally offering an apology to the cars behind him as he continues to drive you home. Fuck, he really got carried away. Was he really about to risk everything you had together by kissing you? What would happen to your friendship?

He’s not supposed to like you, and you definitely don’t like him– at least, not romantically. He’s at least 60% sure of that; maybe even 70%. Get it through your head Jisung– you're just friends. Just. Friends.

You meanwhile are stuck in thought as well, though not in the same way. You feel light, almost? Buzzing with what could only be described as pure excitement, unfiltered joy seeping out of every pore.

He was going to kiss you!! He was really going to! That meant he liked you, didn’t it? Or maybe he even loved you? Loved you in the same you loved him, wanted to be with you in the same way you wanted to be with him?

You take a peek in his direction, noticing his stiff hold on the steering wheel and the rigid way his body sits. He keeps his gaze straight forward, not daring to look at you, afraid of what expression he’ll be met with. He’d never forgive himself if he looked over to see you were upset with him, forever feeling like an idiot if it was his fault your friendship came to an end.

Maybe he’s just nervous, you think. That would make sense! He gathered his courage for a moment, and now he needed time to gather it again– it's not easy to overcome hesitation and let someone know how you feel about them, but this minor setback won't be the end of it. He’d definitely kiss you before the night was over! You’re sure of it!

Okay, maybe you weren’t entirely sure of it. Because he’s still stiff and nervous when he drops you off at your apartment building, offering a strained goodbye and eyes not quite meeting yours. That’s still okay! Jisung is just shy– that has to be it! It won’t be long before he kisses you, you’re sure of it– for real this time! …right? right!

Maybe you should stop saying you’re sure of things, because you’re never right. It’s been a week since Jisung almost kissed you, and he’s been avoiding you the entire time. You didn’t understand– surely he was over his shyness by now, right? How much longer was he going to make you wait? It was agony.

“Ji. Movie night at my place tonight. And I swear if you cancel again I’ll never forgive you !!!” you texted him dramatically, spamming various angry emojis for added effect. To your relief, Jisung agrees to come over and bring snacks as an apology for being busy. You don’t believe he was actually busy of course, but you’ll let him off the hook on that for now.

It's mid afternoon when he finally arrives, multiple bags full of snacks and sweet treats in hand. You smile and hug him tightly, noting that he’s still stiff but deciding not to dwell on that just yet– he’s finally here, after all! And if this plethora of snacks told you anything, it was that he genuinely was sorry for avoiding you.

He tosses the bags on the coffee table, and you throw on a random movie you’ve already seen before, because the movie ultimately doesn’t matter– it’s just an excuse to see Jisung again. Unlike his usual self, he sits on the complete opposite end of the sofa from you, putting an invisible wall between you. Well, that’s fine! You’ll just move closer!

You hear his breath hitch when you sit right next to him, glancing over just long enough to see you smiling at him. He’s so fucked– his feelings definitely aren’t under control enough for this; you're positively torturing him. How is he supposed to get over his feelings for you if you’re looking at him like that while sitting so close to him?

You purposely leave your hand close to his, waiting to see if he’ll hold it, but he doesn’t. He keeps his eyes straight ahead at the tv, evidently still scared to meet your gaze or be too close to you. Why? Why does he keep avoiding your eyes when you look at him? Why won’t he bring himself closer to you? Is he trying to forget it happened?

Does he not realize how badly you wanted him to kiss you? Maybe.. Maybe he’s scared to bring it up. Maybe he’s afraid of rejection, or of your friendship deteriorating from his outward admission. Maybe he’d rather bottle it back up, pretend he was never on the brink of kissing you, because losing you would be the worst thing that would ever happen to him.

Is he scared that you don’t have feelings for him? Is that why even now, when his feelings have all but been laid out, he’s avoiding the confrontation? But he doesn’t have to be afraid of that– you love him. If he’s unsure, then you need him to know, and you’ll tell him yourself.

"Jisung, look at me," you suddenly call to him, tone so serious that he can’t possibly ignore it. He swallows, forcing himself to finally meet your gaze head on, palms sweating as he anticipates what he’s most afraid of. "The other day, in your car… were you going to kiss me?" Fuck. He knew you were going to ask.

You watch his expression change as his face heats up, a not at all subtle red encroaching over his features. "O-Oh, I–" he starts to speak, but immediately stops, words dying in his throat. Fuck. God Dammit. Even though he knew this would happen, none of the scenarios he crafted in his head seemed to be of any assistance.

The excuses he conjured, the apologies that he knew he should utter, the words he thought he should say that were practiced over and over again.. All of that preparation failed him now, a sort of panic settling over him as his body tensed and hands clammed up further.

Honestly, watching him flounder for an excuse or explanation that would allow him to pretend he doesn’t have feelings for you is kind of funny, (and oddly cute), but now really isn’t the time to let it continue. Now, after years and years of secret pining, it’s time for both of you to lay out your feelings clearly, verbally.

"It would've been fine.. I wanted you to do it," you say with complete honesty, pushing away your own nerves and hesitation as far as you could. You couldn’t let your anxieties get the better of you now; you needed to say what you feel, and encourage Jisung to do the same, otherwise the two of you will always be stuck in the boundaries of friendship. You both need to swallow down the part of you that is scared and shy, or you’ll never move beyond what you are.

His eyes widened, mouth falling slightly agape in shock. What? Huh? You wanted him to kiss you? But that would mean even if you don’t love him like he loves you, you at the very least like him, and surely you didn’t. There is no way you like him like that, because that would mean his friends are right, and he’s a clueless idiot.

Fuck. Is he a clueless idiot?

"I'm in love with you, Ji," you finally admit for the first time out loud, and while it’s nerve wracking to say the least, it’s also a relief. Your feelings have been a secret for so long (at least to Jisung they were, cause lord knows you’re an open book otherwise), and it felt good to say it, to tell him right to his face that you love him.

Even if you read into the situation completely wrong somehow, and he wasn’t trying to kiss you that day and didn’t like you, at least you no longer had to hide how you feel. "Since.. since when?" he asks, still a bit stunned and entirely in disbelief.

He can’t believe this is even happening, and there’s part of him that thinks this must be some elaborate dream; he must’ve fallen asleep during the movie, or maybe he never woke up this morning and this entire day has been part of a long dream. But no, he knows it isn’t a dream; because you are much too tangible, and no dream, no matter how vivid, compares to the reality of you.

"I-I don't know, since.. always?" you answer, a slight blush of your own crawling over your skin. You don’t remember the exact moment you realized you liked him as more than a friend anymore, as you were still just a kid then. But you know that by the time high school came, your seemingly small crush had developed into much more, and in recent months, you finally realized the true depth of that feeling.

Even when you were too young to understand what love is and what it felt like, even when you convinced yourself that everything you felt for him was purely platonic in nature, your feelings for Jisung were there. So.. since always. You’ve always wanted him close to you, always wanted your life to be spent with him by your side, always, always loved him above anyone else.

He groans loudly, throwing his arms up and covering his face in a display of anguish. "You're telling me you could've been my girlfriend this whole time?" You can’t help but giggle at his reaction, finding him impossibly cute and funny.

“It’s not too late for me to be your girlfriend now,” you say, and he immediately peels his arms away from his face, looking at you as if you’ve said something that he only could’ve imagined in his wildest dreams.

“Do you mean that?” he asks, hope palpable in his tone, eyes pleading for this to not be something you’re saying just to tease him. “Of course I mean that, silly,” you giggle a little, reaching out for his hands and squeezing them in yours, “I meant everything I said.”

“Oh my god, thank god– I mean, you’re really going to be my girlfriend? You’re not just saying it, right? I don’t have to like. Pretend I don’t have feelings for you anymore? Because it’s been driving me insane, and I don't think I can do it anymore, you're way too pretty and–”

“Jisung–! Shut up and kiss me already,” you interrupt his rambling, and he blinks once, twice, obliging your request as soon as the reality of your words settles over him.

When your lips finally touch his, it feels so right– like everything you’ve ever felt or experienced in your entire life was all to lead to this very moment. It’s sweet, addictive, intoxicating– everything you have ever wanted, ever hoped for, and more.

His hands are hesitant, unsure of where they should rest and if it’s okay to touch you, but when you reach out to him and pull yourself closer, it’s all the permission he needs to let his hands wander.

Years worth of suppressed emotions bubble to the surface all at once, both of you caught in the tidal wave of repressed feelings and urges. Soft, slow timid kisses eventually turn into full ones, deep and impassioned, with all the weight of your feelings pressed into them. Your hands rest on his chest while his move down your waist, fingers lingering on your hips for just a moment before bringing them back up.

His tongue licks against your lip, tentative and almost shy, a silent hope lingering, an unspoken beg for your permission. You open your mouth, granting him what he desires with no restraint, your own tongue meeting his eagerly, coming together in a salacious dance. One of his hands reaches for the nape of your neck to keep you close, and you can feel him smile against your lips when it causes a noise of approval to involuntarily escape from your throat.

Both of your lips become red and swollen from their constant use, any sense of rhythm having completely degraded now that your open mouth kisses have turned into sloppy messes of tongue. It’s embarrassing how worked up he’s getting just from kissing you, and he desperately hopes you haven’t noticed how hard he’s gotten from it. But of course, you have noticed, and you definitely intend on doing something about it.

“Ji.. do you want to touch me?” you pull away from him to ask, and the reaction you get from him is immediate. “God, yes, can I?” The eagerness in his voice makes you giggle as you nod. “Just, uhm.. Get comfortable?” you suggest, shifting your position so that you’re on your heels, hands just slightly in front of you, making your intent clear to him– you want to be in his lap, and obviously he’s going to let you.

Jisung leans back on the sofa, watching you crawl in his lap with bated breath before you pull your shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor beside you. You reach for one of his hands, guiding it to your chest, and he swallows thickly, the sight before him making him throb in his shorts. The fact that he gets to kiss you now, gets to touch you– it’s a dream come true. Though, the reality is much better than any of his many, many dreams of being with you.

He lifts his other hand to you as well, completely forgetting he's using it to support himself, making him fall completely back against the sofa, head thunking on the arm rest. You laugh as he lets out a small “ow!”, his clumsy nature always endearing to you, and especially so during this moment; it’s the sweet, goofy side of Jisung that made you fall in love with him, after all.

Jisung laughs with you once the sting fades, fully indulging in the sound of your laugh and the cute way your face scrunches, even if it is at his expense. You reach your hand to his head, rubbing it in soft, soothing gesture as you lean down, kissing him once more as he cups your breasts in his hands. The mewl you let out against his lips when he squeezes is enough to send him straight to heaven.

No, he already is in heaven, because nothing could be better than this; you on him, against him, kissing him, letting him touch and squeeze you to his heart's content. He lets out a hiss when you settle your full weight into his lap, his erection pressing directly against you. He gasps when you grind against him, and you use that as an opportunity to let your tongue back into his mouth.

You stay like that for some time, making out with each other while your fingers are tangled in his hair and his hands squeeze at your flesh, but you’re beginning to desire more, and you can tell Jisung is too, from the way his body reacts with every subtle move you make. You separate from him, sitting up and bringing your hands behind your back to unhook your bra and finally remove it.

“W-Wait, your roommates–” Jisung’s voice comes out urgently, abruptly propping himself up on his elbows as a realization hits him, “what if they come home? While you’re.. we’re..?” Oh. You were still in the living room, huh? That fact entirely left your mind, much too absorbed in the man underneath you to think about who could end up seeing the both of you like this.

Well, they knew you were inviting him over today, and knowing them, they’d likely stay out for a while to allow you to have alone time.. But still, it’d be better to not risk having them walk in on the sight of you half naked in your boyfriend’s lap. “My room, then?” you ask, carefully removing yourself from atop him, and Jisung nods eagerly, quickly rising to his feet the moment he is able.

You grab your shirt from the floor, ensuring you leave no evidence of your actions behind before leading Jisung to your room with quick, eager steps. He’s been in your room a million times, but it feels so different now, given the context of everything that happened moments before. You both stand there a moment, not hesitant, but rather shy, deciding how best you should proceed from here.

You eventually decide to sit on your bed first, shooting Jisung a soft smile afterwards that lets him know he’s welcome to come join you. So he does; he carefully sits next to you, the newfound shyness fully settling over the two of you. You were acting in the heat of the moment earlier, your bodies reacting before your minds could catch up, but now that you’ve both had a moment to process your actions, it fills you with butterflies.

There’s a moment where you stay like that, subtle blushes on your faces as you look at each other, before you speak up again, “Do you want to keep going..?” “Yes!” Jisung answers without even thinking, immediately clearing his throat after and trying to play off how eager he just sounded, “I mean, uhm– yes. Do you want to?”

The blush on his face flares when you giggle at him; he knows you aren’t laughing at him necessarily, but he can’t help the tinge of embarrassment that crawls up his spine. “Yes, I do,” you smile at him, and it’s so pretty and bright that he can’t even be flustered anymore; because more importantly than that, you want to keep going too– you want more, just like he does.

So he smiles too, reaching out to you and pulling you into a kiss, both of you giggling into it softly. The giggles fade out as the kiss becomes more heated, you gently pushing him back and crawling back on top of him when his head hits your pillows, returning to the position you were in previously.

Jisung’s hands are the ones that reach behind you this time, fumbling with the hooks of your bra while you kiss him with his face in your hands. Thankfully, he gets it undone on the third try, and you sit back up, letting it fall down your arms and subsequently tossing it aside. “..so beautiful,” he mumbles mostly to himself, but you still hear it, and it makes the blush on your face flare.

You grab at the hem of his shirt, wanting to see his body as well. He lifts himself off his back, helping you pull his shirt off, neither of you paying any mind to where it lands once it’s discarded. You trace your hands over him when he lays back again, from his broad chest to his slim waist, eyes drinking him in while your hands familiarize themselves with the feeling of his bare skin.

You’ve seen him shirtless countless times in recent years, so you’re no stranger to how attractive he is, but it’s different now; different because now you can openly admire him, and don't have to pretend to not notice that he’s built like a greek god. Even Adonis himself doesn’t hold a candle to the beauty of Han Jisung.

“You’re so pretty, Ji,” you tell him sincerely. The compliment makes the blush on his face darken, but he returns your smile, reaching his hands back up to you. “I should be saying that to you,” he responds, one of his hands resting on your waist, “you’re the prettiest thing in the world.” He brings his other hand to the nape of your neck just as before, gently pulling you back to him before you can reply, his tongue grazing your lips when they touch again.

He brings your hands to breasts now, cupping them in his hands as he did before. He can feel your breath shudder when his thumbs brush over your nipples, a soft mewl pouring into his mouth when he rubs them between his fingers. The stimulation makes your entire body shiver, your hips grind down in search of some sort of relief, soft groans leaving Jisung every time you press your body down on his cock.

You separate from the kiss, one your hands reaching between your bodies, settling on the waistband of his shorts. “Is this okay?” you ask, watching him for any sign of hesitation or apprehension, but there’s none to be found. Instead, you’re met with eager, twinkling eyes, anticipation written all over him as he nods, a soft “yes, please,” leaving him in a quick breath.

You shove his waistband down just enough to free his cock from its confines, a hiss escaping him when your fingers begin to trace him up and down. Your fingers gather the pre-cum leaking from his tip, spreading it over his length easily, and turning him into a wet, sticky mess. He watches in breathless awe when your hand wraps around him, entranced by the visual before him.

You, so beautiful and lovely, with your pretty hands on and around him, watching him and the way his body reacts to you with sweet salacity. He lets out a breathy groan when you begin to pump him earnestly, his eyes closing despite how badly he wants to keep watching. Your hand just feels so much better than his, so much softer and perfectly warm.

You watch his face, committing to memory the way it contorts, the way his brows furrow and teeth sink into his bottom lip. You memorize the way his chest rises and falls with each quick breath, the way his thighs tremble, the way his stomach contracts as you drive him closer and closer to release.

“Sungie,” you call to him, slowing your pace down just enough for him to be able to easily open his eyes and look at you, “want you in my mouth– is that okay? Can I?”

“Oh my god, yes, please, you don’t even have to ask,” he says between shallow breaths, far too excited to have your mouth on him to be embarrassed by the desperate display he’s putting on.

He props himself on his elbows, watching you scoot yourself down his legs and bringing your face right up to his cock. Your tongue comes out first, collecting the pre-cum with long, drawn out licks, and fuck, the sight alone is enough to have his eyes rolling back. You kiss the tip before you wrap your lips around him, his head falling back and curses leaving his lips as you sink your head down on him.

His hands grip at your sheets, desperately trying to hold himself back from bucking his hips up and choking you, because the last thing he wants is to accidentally hurt you. But fuck, your mouth feels so amazing, he almost can’t breathe. “God, fuck-” he gasps when his cock touches the back of your throat, your tongue rubbing the underside so perfectly.

He’s trying to hold it back, desperate to feel your tongue on him longer, to have your lips wrapped around him for just another moment, but he can’t. He releases with a strained cry, his cum filling your mouth in quick spurts. The unfamiliar feeling causes you to gag at first, but you recover quickly, swallowing all he has to give you happily.

You release him from your mouth when you feel him begin to soften, laying next to him with a soft, satisfied smile on your face. “Was it good?” you ask him and he lets out a breathless laugh before he answers.

“So good, seriously, you’re amazing,” he says, turning his head to look at you with a small smile of his own to match yours, “but you already knew that, didn’t you? You just wanted me to say it.”

“Maybe,” you giggle, and Jisung does as well, shifting to his side and pulling your body closer to his. He kisses you once more, tasting himself on your lips, but not at all minding it– in fact, he finds that he actually really likes it. It’s fucking hot, if he’s being honest. But there’s one thing that would make it even hotter– if your taste was on his tongue too.

“I want to make you feel good too,” he says, fingers resting on your hips, just above your own waistband, “is that okay with you? Can I?” The question makes your stomach flip, thighs pressing together at the idea of Jisung between your legs– you really want it. “Yes, I– I want you to.”

With your affirmation, he lifts himself off the bed and lets you lay back, deciding to remove the last of his clothing before settling between your legs once you’re comfortable. His fingers hook in your waistband now, ready to take your shorts and underwear off together in one motion. He looks at you before he does, taking in your expression that is filled with shy anticipation, eyes traveling down your body next, stopping where his hands rest on your hips.

God, he feels like a virgin again with the way his hands tremble, the thought of you seeing you bare leaving him as nervous as it does excited. Why does his heart feel like it’s going to burst out of his chest? He’s eager, he knows that, and shyness still lingers, but there’s something else there that’s making his heart race out of control.

It’s because he loves you, if he had to guess. You turn him to putty, one look from you enough to reduce him to a mere puddle. He doubts you know the effect you have on him, as he’s spent so much time trying to hide it, but he doesn’t have to anymore. Jisung can love you fully now– no need to hold back, to push it aside, to try and disguise it as the platonic love between friends.

He can hold you in his arms, can feel your lips on his, can touch your bare skin, can put his all into making you as happy as you make him. He looks back at your face again, your expression is similar to his own. Eager trepidation written in your eyes, love and adoration lingering underneath.

Your eyes meet his once more, shy but certain, and you smile at him, the way you always have. A smile that makes his brain go fuzzy, that fills him with a sweet desire, that makes him whole. You, the brightest star in his galaxy, so beautiful and perfect, whom he once thought was out of reach but now sits in hands, radiating love and warmth.

If he is your Adonis, then you’re his Aphrodite; when you are together, the sun shines brighter, the world more vibrant, more beautiful, all because you’re there with him. He’ll love you until his last breath, and he knows you’ll do the same, a promise unspoken for now, but will one day leave him earnestly, down on one knee with a ring in hand.

“I love you,” he tells you as he leans down, kissing you before you can utter a reply, slowly pulling your clothing down your legs as he does. Jisung’s earnest admission, paired with his actions, makes the heat on your face flare and body tremble, hands coming up to cover your face once the kiss is over as an even more intense shyness settles over you.

“Love you too,” you mutter, face feeling impossibly hot. Sure, you already admitted it earlier, but it’s your first time hearing it from Jisung, and the fact that he’s saying it during an intimate moment while looking at you like that? Your heart simply can’t handle it. Peeking through your fingers, you can see him smiling as he carefully pushes your legs apart and it makes a whine unconsciously leave you.

“Baby,” his voice calls to you, and the use of the petname from him definitely does your heart no favors, “why are you covering your face? It’s just me.”

“That’s the problem– it’s you,” you mumble, just barely managing to peel your hands away from your face to give him a pout. Doesn’t he know that the way you’re acting now is entirely his fault? It was much easier to push past your shyness when the focus was on him instead of you.

Jisung isn’t used to seeing this bashful side of you and God, it’s so cute that he might have fallen for you even harder than before (if that’s even possible.) He smiles again, and you swear this surge of confidence from him has to be illegal– because the effect it has on you is positively lethal. Han Jisung is going to be the death of you.

“You’re so wet,” he speaks softly in your ear, fingers rubbing through your folds and coating them in the proof of your excitement. “Jisung–” you whine once more, but before you can cover your face again, his other hand comes up to stop you. “Please let me see you. I need to know how you feel when I’m touching you. Okay, baby? Please.”

Fuck. How can you say no after hearing that? You concede with a nod, lowering your hands in a silent promise to do your best to look at him, to let him see you no matter how shy or overwhelmed you may get; because if it’s what Jisung wants, you’ll do your best to ensure he has it.

“Thank you,” he smiles as he gives you a quick peck on the lips, “in return I’ll make sure you feel so good. Are you ready?” You nod again, but quickly realize he wants you to actually say it, so you swallow down your nerves the best you can to allow yourself to speak. “Yes, I– I’m ready. Make me feel good, please.”

His two middle fingers press against your hole, using the tips of his fingers to check for any resistance before carefully pushing fully inside. His first motions are slow, making sure you’re well adjusted to the feeling of his fingers and observing you for any changes in expression. Your body jolts when he finds the spot inside you that makes you see stars, head falling back as an unintentionally loud moan escapes you.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, eyes squeezing shut, whimpers and moans unable to be held back with the way his fingers repeatedly prod at your spot. “Does it feel good? You like how my fingers feel inside you?” He asks, and even though you can’t see the smile anymore, you can hear it. You nod repeatedly, mouth opening to try to tell him, though all that escapes you are embarrassingly loud sounds of pleasure.

“Can’t say it? That’s okay, your pussy is telling me everything I need to know. You’re squeezing my fingers so tight,” he says in your ear, pressing a kiss to your skin after. Oh, you liked that a lot– he can tell by the way you clench around his fingers, legs trembling and hands twisting the sheets beneath you. Maybe the fact that he talks a lot will be a good thing for once.

“You gonna cum soon? Want to cum all over my fingers? Go ahead baby, I want to see it, show me how good you feel.” “Oh my god, Ji-” you gasp; you’re so, so close– you just need one thing to finally push you over the edge. “K-Kiss, please, need a kiss,” you practically beg, looking at him with watery eyes and pouty lips.

Holy fuck, does that make him crumble. How could anything be simultaneously so cute and fucking hot? He leans down to meet your request, free hand moving to cup your face while his fingers continue their ministrations, and that’s all you need to finally come undone.

Your entire body shakes, eyes rolling back as your release soaks his fingers. He keeps kissing you even as you come down from your high, letting you pull back for air as you please but always capturing your lips again as soon as he is able.

You whine when he finally slips his fingers out of you, watching shyly as he brings them to his mouth to lick clean. His eyes stay on yours the entire time, and it makes the heat on your face intensify beyond what you thought was possible. He kisses you once more when he’s finished, tongue coaxing you to open your mouth, both your tastes melding together on your tongues, just as he wanted.

He’s hard again too– you can feel his cock pressing against you, begging for more stimulation that you’re more than happy to give. “Ji–” you pull away from his lips to long enough to speak, “please fuck me.”

He groans at your words, opening his eyes to look at you before he continues, “I will, I promise I’ll make you feel so good. But, I– I, uhm, I don’t have anything, I didn’t expect anything to happen, so..”

“That’s okay. I trust you Ji,” you reply, pressing a soft kiss to his lips as you reach your hand to his face, “love you so much, just want you inside me.” He groans again, kissing you sweetly as he aligns himself with your entrance.

“You’re sure?” he pulls away to ask first, “It’s okay to change your mind, I can run out and grab condoms and–” You smile, shutting him up with a kiss before he can continue to ramble. You appreciate the offer, and the sweet consideration he has for you, but.. “I’m so sure, I promise. I want this.”

He returns your smile when you pull away, reaching one of his hands to grab yours, squeezing it before intertwining your fingers together. “As long as you’re sure, I’ll give you everything you want,” he says, a promise that extends beyond just this moment– anything and everything he has to give, it’s yours for as long as you want it.

Jisung can’t help but let out a moan as he sinks inside you, eyes closing and head falling forward at the immediate overwhelming pleasure your body brings him. You squeeze his hand, your other one coming up to hold his face; you can feel the heat radiating off his cheek, can see the sweat that lingers on his brow and makes his hair stick to his forehead.

When he opens his eyes to look at you again, his stomach erupts in butterflies, heart squeezing in his chest. You’re just as sweaty as him, face flushed and hair disheveled, and yet it’s the most beautiful you’ve ever been– and you’re smiling; the pretty smile that always turns his brain to mush and snatches his breath away.

God, he can’t take it– he needs to calm down before the sight of you, paired with the mind-numbing pleasure that’s encompassing him, gives him a heart attack. "Sungie, are you okay?" you ask after a moment passes, concern growing on your face as you continue to hold his face in your hand.

"Fuck, y-yeah, I'm fine, I– I just.. this is so embarrassing, but I just like– I need a minute," he admits almost breathlessly, as if even the act speaking to you is a struggle– and in a way it is, because all his concentration is being poured into not cumming just from seeing your pretty face, or your beautiful body underneath him while being squeezed by your walls.

"Take your time, I'm not going anywhere," you tell him sincerely, squeezing his hand in reassurance as you lean up to kiss him. You understand why he’s embarrassed, but you hope he knows that when he’s with you, he doesn’t have to be; you love him no matter what.

Besides, you have to admit you like that you have such a profound effect on him. And while the kiss doesn’t help calm his heart by any means, he appreciates your sweetness endlessly, meeting your lips eagerly despite himself.

When his hips finally move, the sweet sound that pours from your lips sends a shiver through his entire body. He wants, needs, to hear it again, more and more, until his name is the only thing lingering on your tongue, the only thing you are capable of uttering between your pleasured moans.

“So pretty, everything about you, your body, the sounds you make, so pretty,” he tells you, though his lips barely leave yours long enough to say it. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging just enough to draw a whine from him, and he knows he’s done for.

Every sound, every touch, every glance, no matter how soft or how subtle drives him further into overwhelming bliss. He’s drowning in you, in the love and relief you offer him, lost in the abyss that is your care. He brings his hands to your legs, lifting them up and effectively folding you in half, aiming to find the spot that’ll have you crying out for him.

It only takes a few experimental thrusts to find it, and the way clench around him, voice ringing loudly in his ears as your legs tremble in his hold, it’s enough to make him want to cum right then and there. His pace quickens, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watches your body react to him, desperate to hold back his need to cum for as long as he can manage, just so he can have this view of you for a while longer.

But when you start to whine his name, when you breathlessly tell him you can feel him twitching inside you, can feel him so deep and how you feel so good– his restraint crumbles in an instant, falling apart for you far too easily. His hips stutter as he drills into you, thrusts becoming sloppy as he chases his high. You bring your fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick circles, wanting nothing more than to cum with the person you’ve loved your entire life.

"Oh my fucking god, feels so good, you feel so good, I– f-fuck, I can't–" he babbles against your skin, his high so dangerously close, but doing his best to hold it back just for you, so that you can cum together. “Baby, ‘m so close, gonna cum, want you to cum with me, please, please cum with me,” he begs, voice easily the most whiny and desperate you’ve ever heard it, and your body reacts almost instantly, as if his word was the command you needed to finally let go.

You use your free hand to pull him into a messy, open mouthed kiss, eyes rolling back as you finally cum on his cock and let him swallow every noise you make. Your entire body tenses and shudders, his cock twitching as you squeeze him tighter, pleasured whines and curses tumbling from his lips as cum shoots into you, fucking you through your shared highs. He continues to fuck you until overstimulation and sensitivity takes hold, his body trembling as he pulls out of you.

He promptly lies next to you, arms wasting no time in wrapping around you, hugging you closely to himself as the two of you collect your breath. You can’t help but smile as you look at him, and he does the same, his unwavering love and joy meeting your own. You recognize that you should probably get up, should clean up and get dressed now before your roommates get home, but you simply don’t want to.

You wiggle closer, pressing yourself against him, letting out a content sigh when his arms squeeze you tighter. You close your eyes for a moment, indulging in the security Jisung brings you, the love, the support, the safety of his touch, of his presence. He kisses the top of your head, meeting your cute, gentle smile with one of his own.

When he looks at you, and sees the pure, obvious love written in your eyes, he's not sure how he always missed it. You look at him the way he looks at you– like he holds your entire world in his hands, the sincerest form of love shining in every glance, bleeding into every touch.

Your smile, sweet and content, eyes soft and full of adoration; they tell him everything. Even without words, he knows– you love him, now and always. A promise, unspoken but understood, that you'll always be together, that you'll always have each other.

Jisung takes his time now, to do all the things he imagined he would do if he was ever granted this moment; he holds you close, he plants kisses all over you, he tells you how pretty you are, how perfect and beautiful, until you're giggling, a cute pink blush spreading on your cheeks as you playfully tell him to stop. And when he does, and you look at him with your gleaming eyes and adorable smile, he tells you he loves you, just as he's always wanted to.

#skzwritingcafe #skzsummertimeconfessions #skz x reader #jisung x reader #han x reader #skz smut #jisung smut #han smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fluff #literally uploading this at 4am i am going straight to bed after this :')#mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

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