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Coffee and Crime ⋆✴︎˚。⋆ PART THREE
Pairing ✦ mafia!bucky x reader
Word Count ✦ 1.2K
Warnings ✦ overall story has a 18+ content warning, MDNI, mention of hospitals/emergency rooms, honestly pretty fluffy, cussing
A/N ✦ i've been on a writing streak the last few days, i'm already working on part four, hopefully should post it by tomorrow :)
PART TWO »»» Series Masterlist
I will update the series every 1-4 days depending on my schedule
You felt like absolute shit. Your whole body ached and waves of nausea flowed through you. Slowly you lifted your heavy eyelids and looked around. Nat, Clint, Thor, and Wanda all sat around you as you laid in a hospital bed.
“Y/N’s awake.”, Wanda said to the others.
Everyone looked towards you.
“How you feeling?”, Clint asked.
“Awful.”, you groaned, “What the fuck even happened?”
Your memories of the previous night were a blur. The group looked around to each other silently debating who would fill you in.
“Do you remember anything?”, Nat questioned.
“I remember up to when we were on the dance floor but after that, nothing.”
Nat relayed the previous night's events to you, adding details of what happened after you blacked out. Like the fact that Bucky had personally driven you and Nat to the emergency room, and slipped one of the nurses a couple hundred to make sure you got the best treatment possible.
“He also had me give him your phone number so he could check up on you.”
Internally you lit up, thrilled at the thought of the handsome man caring about your wellbeing. However, something cut through your mind, temporarily interrupting your joy.
“Did he get in trouble for fighting that guy?”
“There was no way in hell that guy was going to be calling the cops after what he tried to do to you so no trouble there and Bucky can’t get in trouble with the club seeing as he owns it.”, Nat said, “I found that out on our drive to the hospital because I had the same thought as you.”
Your brain was trying to process all of the information you had just been given, almost feeling overwhelmed by it.
A soft knock on the door turned all of your attention that way. A blonde nurse in baby blue scrubs was leaning her shoulder against the door as she opened it, a large vase of pink roses and tulips clutched in her hands.
“Miss (Y/L/N), these just got delivered for you.”, she smiled at you.
Thor stood and retrieved the flowers from her. Setting them down on the thick window ledge, he plucked the card from the stand it sat on, and handed it to you. You opened the envelope shakily, your body was still not fully recovered from last night.
Hey Sweetheart, Let me know when you get out of the hospital, I sent you a text so you have my number. Hope you’re okay. I’m here if you need anything ━ Bucky
Your face blossomed with a blush.
“Who are they from?”, Clint asked.
With a wide grin you responded, “Bucky.”
A few hours later and the emergency room doctors finally cleared you to go home. Your friends helped you gather your belongings, Clint and Wanda telling you goodbye as you guys reached the parking lot. Thor kindly gave you and Nat a ride back home to your apartment.
After dropping you guys off he yelled from his car window, "Bye guys! Love you both!"
"Bye Thor, we love you too!", you and Nat yelled back to him as you continued up the sidewalk and into your apartment building.
After you crossed the threshold of your home, you immediately headed to your bedroom.
“I’m going to go shower and get this hospital smell off of me.”, you told Nat.
“Okay, let me know if you need anything, I’ll be out here watching TV.”
Entering your room, you immediately shed your dress from the previous night, tossing it into your dirty clothes hamper. You dug through your dresser selecting a pair of baggy grey sweats and one of your favorite oversized shirts.
After grabbing your clothes you head to your bathroom. Entering, you set your outfit and phone down on the sink, going to turn your shower on. You twist the hot water knob to the on position, the sound of trickling water filling the room.
You moved back to the counter grabbing your phone. As you unlocked it you saw a text from a number you didn’t have saved.
UNKOWN: Let me know when you’re back home, I’ve been worried about you.
UNKOWN: This is Bucky btw.
You smiled, saving his name in your phone, and shot him back a text.
Y/N: I’m back home, still not feeling amazing, but I’ll survive. Thank you for the flowers, they’re beautiful.
Bucky quickly sent you a response.
BUCKY: I hoped they might cheer you up a bit. Y/N: They definitely did. Also thank you for last night, I appreciate it more than you know.
The typing bubble popped up and disappeared several times. You closed out of your messages, opening your music streaming app and turning on your favorite playlist. Locking your phone you set it back down on the counter and stepped into the shower.
You felt some of the tension in your back slowly fade as warm water trickled down your body. After relaxing in the hot water for what you deemed long enough, you began to wash yourself, scrubbing a little too hard, trying to get the smell of the hospital off of you as well as the metaphorical feeling of Caleb's hands.
Once you felt that you were sufficiently clean, you grabbed a light green towel off the wall, wrapping it around your body.
You reached for your phone again.
BUCKY: I’m just glad you're safe.
You saw that several minutes had passed in between that text and the following ones he sent.
BUCKY: Go to dinner with me? BUCKY: Only if you want to of course. I don’t want you to think you have to say yes just because I helped you yesterday.
‘Men that respect boundaries are so hot’, you thought to yourself.
Y/N: Of course, I would really like that.
You set your phone down again. Drying your hair and doing your skincare. After you finished, you exited the bathroom and flopped down onto your fluffy pink comforter. Exhaustion started taking over you and you crawled under your blankets, snuggling into your pillows.
Your phone buzzed beside your head.
BUCKY: Let me know when you’re free next, I have the perfect place we can go. Y/N: I’m going to take a nap, but when I wake up I’ll check my schedule and see what days I’m not doing anything. Bucky: Perfect, sleep well sweetheart, ttyl.
You smiled softly, butterflies forming in your stomach.
You reached for your TV remote, turning on a show to play as background noise while you slept. Your eyes closed, feeling very heavy and within minutes you were asleep.
Nat eventually came into your room and woke you up, letting you get a five hour nap in. She had made the two of you dinner, spaghetti and garlic toast. Your stomach grumbled loudly at the thought of food. Laughing, you followed her into the kitchen.
You pulled up your calendar on your phone, seeing when your next day off was, and texting the information to Bucky.
Y/N: Just looked and my next day off is Tuesday. BUCKY: I’ll pick you up at 7? Y/N: That works for me :) I’ll send you my address.
After texting him your address you put your phone away, enjoying your dinner with your roommate as you guys watched TV. The two of you made it through several episodes of your show, before Nat started yawning, saying she was going to head to bed. You both went to the kitchen, rising your dishes and headed down the hall into your respective rooms.
You fell asleep, bubbling with excitement over your upcoming date with Bucky.
PART FOUR
I AM OPENING A TAGLIST FOR THIS STORY LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT ADDED!
#bucky barnes fluff#mafia!bucky x reader#bucky barnes#winter soldier#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky x female reader#bucky x female yn#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky fanfic#bucky fanfiction#bucky fanfic au#james bucky barnes#james barnes#james buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes x reader#mafia!bucky barnes x reader#mafia!bucky barnes x y/n#mafia!bucky x y/n#mafia!bucky#mafia!james buchanan barnes#mafia!au#marvel fanfic series#bucky barnes fanfic serires#bucky barnes series#marvel au#mob!bucky x y/n#mob!bucky
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Please Come Home
Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader
Summary: You never realized how many places there were to hide in your apartment, but you’re pretty sure someone else is in here with you. Whatever they want isn’t good.
Word count: 3.3k
TW: home invasion, violence, curses as insults
Your spare key is missing.
Fuck. You always keep it in this drawer. Where the fuck is it?
When you told Jason he could just grab your keys to take your car instead of his bike to the store, you’d been relying on using your spare to lock up the apartment when you left for work. You never, ever moved it, but it was gone all the same. Did he take it instead of your keychain? Nope, that’s missing from its hook next to the front door.
When was the last time you used it? Not too long ago. Had you been careless about putting it back?
You text Jason, Did you grab my spare key?
Shit. You had to leave for work, like, five minutes ago, and you have no key to lock the front door.
At least you have a fire escape. You bolt the door from the inside, then slip out the window. You can’t latch it from the outside, but it’s a little harder to break in through the window than the front door.
You’re only two minutes late to your waitressing shift. Your manager swipes you in, lets you know that a server called out so you’ll be handling two sections today, and the host runs up to tell you that you’ve already been sat.
In the middle of the shift, when you have a minute to catch your breath, you check your phone. Jason had texted, No, I took your keychain. Is your spare missing?
I think I lost it.
I’ll look for it when I come home before patrol. Will I see you before heading out?
Not looking like it. Things haven’t slowed down at all.
I’ll see you when I get home, then. Don’t wait up.
I’ll have dinner in the fridge when you get back. Gotta get back to work. Love you
I love you, too.
A couple hours later, Jason texts that he has no luck locating your spare. Since he’s paranoid, he’s going out for a new lock tomorrow, but there’s important business with a drug ring that he can’t miss tonight.
That’s okay. It’ll be a pain to climb up the fire escape, but you don’t really mind that much. You’ve been meaning to get more exercise, anyway.
You finish work at six and the walk back to your apartment building is pretty peaceful. Unusual for Gotham.
It lulls you into a false sense of security.
You’re not really in the mood for leftovers, and not really in the mood to cook. You stare between your phone and the pantry. Takeout is easy. So is pasta.
With a sigh, you decide to spare your bank account. Delivery fees are getting ridiculous nowadays.
You text Jason just to see how his night is going. You’re not sure he’ll respond; sometimes, like during stakeouts, he turns his phone off completely so the sound or vibrate doesn’t reveal his presence. He doesn’t respond after a minute, which means he’s busy. You sigh and set down your phone, then change into comfier clothes. As soon as you’re out of your room, you grab a pot and box of pasta. You can’t sit down, or you’ll put off dinner for at least another hour.
The water is set to boil when you turn around to look at your phone, vaguely hoping Jason has responded by now.
Your phone isn’t on the counter.
You frown. You’re pretty sure you left it there.
Maybe it’s in the pantry when you grabbed the pasta?
It’s not.
You must have left it in your room when you changed. You check, and it’s sitting right on your bedside table. “Jeez,” you mutter, picking it up and slipping it into your pocket. After a long day, it’s okay to be scatterbrained, but this is a bit much.
Still no response from Jason.
You walk out of the bedroom to see that the stove turned itself off and the pasta water is barely warm. “Gotham appliances are such pieces of shit,” you mutter. You know what, fine. A shower and feeling clean will make you feel better to try again. The saying is that a watched pot never boils, but hopefully a watched Gotham stove never turns itself on and off randomly while you cook.
The apartment’s a bit chilly, so you take your pajamas with you into the bathroom and sit under the water spray until all the grime of the day washes away. It’s a bad habit, but you bring your phone with you in the shower to scroll through social media until your skin starts to get pruny. You step out, wrapping the towel around yourself in a vain attempt to stop shivering, and… your pajamas are gone.
The pajamas that you’re sure you took with you. You distinctly remember putting them on the sink counter.
And now they’re gone.
Something clenches in your stomach. You text Jason, Hey are you home yet?
He doesn’t respond right away.
Jay, this isn’t funny.
Still nothing.
Is it possible you forgot to bring the clothes with you? No, you distinctly remember the thought process.
Someone moved them, and you can’t think of s single reason anyone you know would do that. That kind of prank isn’t funny.
You text Jason, I think there is someone in the house with me. Then you try calling him.
You go straight to voicemail.
You bite your lip, trying hard not to panic. Jason never sends you to voicemail. He’s answered your calls in the middle of shootouts, voice strained, “Hey, kinda busy right now, is it an emergency?”
His phone is turned off, so who knows when he’ll see your texts. He might not turn it on again for hours.
You text your best friend, I think someone broke into my house. Don’t call me. Please help.
You chew on your thumbnail.
Either she calls the cops, or she shows up with a baseball bat and her scary-ass motorcycle dude boyfriend. He’s secretly a softie, but his appearance doesn’t match his personality.
He’s a lot like Jason, actually. Who would have thought you two had the same type?
You call Jason again.
Voicemail.
Again.
Voicemail.
Your best friend texts, Omw. That’s it, but it’s the best text you’ve ever seen in your life.
Okay. Either cower in the bathroom until someone shows up, or play along with the same game the possibly-real-intruder is playing, that everything is normal.
No matter what happens next, you want to be dressed for it. You peek under the door, but you don’t see anyone’s feet.
Maybe this is all in your head, but you have a terrible gut feeling that it isn’t.
Your heart pounds, but you maintain a leisurely stroll into your room through the kitchen, palming a knife as you go, and locking the door behind you. The intruder may be in your closet, so you hold the knife out as you swing the door open.
Empty.
You throw on the first clothes you see and debate hiding in your room until your friend arrives. But adrenaline is pumping and you think you might shake out of your skin. You sit on the edge of the bed and take deep breaths.
There’s a window in your room, but it only opens three inches and it’s not connected to the fire escape, so that’s not an option. The window that leads to the fire escape is in the main room, so you’d have to walk through the kitchen to get to it, and the intruder may be hiding in the pantry.
You could try the front door, but the storage closet is right next to it: another likely place for someone to hide and jump out at you.
Your room is only as safe as the strength of the door. And the wood is pretty thin.
All of a sudden, your phone buzzes, and you drop it. You snatch it up to see an incoming call lighting up the screen with your boyfriend’s handsome contact photo.
You accept the call immediately. “Jay?”
“I’m on my way,” he rushes out. You hear the roar of his motorcycle in the background. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay.” You whisper, “I think someone is here.”
“I know.” His voice is strained. “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be fine. I’m five minutes away. Can you get out?”
“I don’t know. I’m in my bedroom, I locked my door. I think he’s hiding somewhere in the apart—”
A hand shoots out from under the bed and grabs your ankle.
You scream.
Your phone flies away when he yanks you off the bed. You go down swinging with the knife and make contact, accidentally swiping your own ankle in the process. The man grunts with pain and lets go, and you scramble to the door. You don’t even feel the pain in your ankle, although you’re actually bleeding a lot.
He’s wriggling out from under your bed when you get to your feet and twist the doorknob. “Get the fuck out of my house, you fucking pervert!” you scream. You yank the door open and run…
Right into a stranger’s chest.
There are two of them?
An iron grip clamps over your shoulder. His other hand fists in your hair. “Well, hello, pretty. You’re not the Red Hood.”
You stab him in the stomach.
Unfortunately, that only makes him mad.
“You bitch,” he groans. The slap is so powerful it nearly breaks your neck. You can’t breathe for a second, and then the first man catches up to you. His hand is bleeding. Like, a lot. They transfer you over so the stabbed man can groan about being stabbed. It’s only in his gut, so he should be fine. “Walk it off,” you goad. It’s the Gotham in you.
The first man digs his bloody knuckles into your cheek. “Fucking whore cut me,” he says. “Where’s the Red Hood?”
“He’ll kill you both,” you spit. “He’s on his way to shoot you in the head.” The threat should have scared them, but they were dumb enough to break into the Red Hood’s apartment and beat his partner. They had not been blessed with many braincells.
“Good,” he says. “He’ll get here just in time to see his pretty pet die.”
Someone pounds on the door and everyone freezes. Fear flashes over their face, but Jason wouldn’t have knocked. He would have kicked the door down or gone through the window.
Your best friend calls your name through the door. She’s trying to sound casual, but things are so far past casual.
The man holding you sees you draw in a breath to scream. “Don’t you dare,” he warns. “Do it and I’ll kill them, too.” The barrel of a gun presses to the side of your head.
Where is Jason?
You don’t think he’ll get here in time. He doesn’t deserve to carry the weight of that failure, but he will. Your Jay thinks he’s responsible for every bad thing in the world.
The man’s ugly face explodes.
You register the concussive sound of gunfire half a second later. Your ears ring. You lose your balance.
More gunfire. It’s so loud all you can do is cover your ears. Who’s shooting who?
It stops as suddenly as it started, but you don’t look up. You can’t hear anything. You don’t want to see their ugly faces anymore.
Then hands grab you again, and you shriek. Your kitchen knife is still buried in the second man’s gut, so you have no defense. A man with a gun is going to kill you in your apartment.
Despite all your attempts at fighting, he’s too strong. Iron hands pry your hands away from your head, but you still can’t hear anything. Your ears are still ringing too loud. Your eardrums might have burst.
Then gloved hands cup your cheeks.
You know those gloves.
Jason is kneeling on the ground in front of you, absolutely frantic. His mouth moves, but you don’t hear anything. You don’t even hear your sob, but you definitely feel it right before you throw yourself at him.
Strong arms wrap around your back. Jason cradles you, hugs you so tight you can’t breathe, tries to hide you from anyone that might hear you. You still can’t make out his words, but you’re beginning to hear a muffled voice.
You’re sitting completely in his lap, his legs behind you to support your back. You cling to him, trying not to shake. You’re a pretty unflappable Gothamite, but a home invasion is enough to rattle anyone. You’re supposed to be safe here.
Jason pulls away just enough to kiss your forehead. His green eyes squeeze tight like he’s in pain, and a single tear slips from the corner of one.
You wipe it away.
Jason wipes the blood on your cheek away.
You read his lips when he asks if you’re okay. You nod. You’re alive, and that’s what matters.
Jason holds you still when you try to look around. He says something that you can’t read. He must know that you don’t understand, because he just uses one huge hand on the back of your head to pull you forward. His mouth presses against your forehead, not quite a kiss, just relishing the connection.
You hear the banging first. Then you hear the shouting.
Oh, God. Your best friend.
You scramble out of Jason’s hold so fast he can’t stop you. You stumble past two dead bodies, both with three bullets in their heads. The floor is ruined beyond belief.
Jason helps support you. He needs to touch you somewhere to reassure himself that you’re okay, that you’re alive. You unlock the door, and barely open it a crack before your friend pushes it all the way open.
She gasps at the sight of you. “Oh, my God!” Her arms wrap tight around your neck, and you squeeze her. Jason’s hand remains pressed against your back. Her boyfriend stands behind her in the hallway, and he eyes Jason somewhat suspiciously. The two have never met before.
Your best friend pulls away, and Jason folds you against his side. His hand runs up and down your arm.
“Are you okay? There’s blood all over you.” Her eyes drift past your face and land on the bodies on your floor. Her mouth tightens, but she doesn't scream or call the cops immediately.
“It’s not mine,” you say faintly. “Well…” You look at your ankle. “Most of it.”
“Jesus,” says Jason. “They did that to you?”
"I did it to myself," you admit. "But I stabbed that one." You point.
He kisses the top of your head. "I'm going to teach you how to defend yourself. I never should have left you alone." Jason fixes your friend with a look so stern that she actually gulps. "Can you watch them for a little bit?"
"Yeah," she says. "I'll take care of them."
"Good." Jason takes your face in his hands. His eyes blaze. "I'll be back as soon as I can. You hear me? You're not gonna be alone ever again."
You nod numbly.
Jason carries you to the couch, then coaches your friend through applying pressure to your ankle. He gently places an icepack in your hand, then moves you until it's pressed to your numb cheek. Then he kisses you. Pulls back. Kisses you again. It's not sweet—he tastes like blood, or maybe you do—but it's firm, and it's real, and it's a promise.
He stands up and asks your friend's boyfriend, "You wanna help me with these?"
As far as you know, the other man's never hidden a dead body in his life. But to his credit, he hardly hesitates before nodding.
Jason's already calling someone when he walks out. One of his criminal contacts, you're sure. You don't know and you don't want to know.
They're gone for twenty minutes. You're still in shock when they get back. You know you're in shock, but you can't snap out of it. You don't think you want to.
He gently nudges your friend's hands away to peek under the gauze. "You want stitches for this, honey?"
You shake your head. The cut's too close to bone, and you don't want a needle going anywhere near your bones.
"Okay." He changes the gauze, then tapes it in place, then puts a sticky wrap over that. "I'll change this in the morning. You're gonna be okay."
"I'm glad you're all right," your friend's boyfriend offers. You don't know each other all that well, but he just helped hide two bodies that you and Jason killed, so he must be an all right dude. You nod, give him a shaky smile, try to wave.
Your best friend bends over to hug you. "I'm going to text you in the morning," she says. "You'll be okay with Jason. I'm so proud of you. I'm so glad you're okay."
You hug her back until she puts the icepack back in the freezer.
When they leave, Jason stands up from the couch. You make a pleading, confused noise in the back of your throat, and he smooths your hair away from your face. "I'll be right back, honey," he promises. "I'm gonna lock the door. No one's ever getting to you again, you hear me?"
As soon as he pulls away, you shiver. The only thing keeping you warm was his body.
True to his word, he locks the front door, then heads right back to you.
"Do you want to go to the bedroom?" Jason asks softly.
You shake your head. There was a man hiding beneath your bed tonight. It was worse than any monster you used to be scared of as a child.
"Okay," he says softly. Jason eases onto the couch, but he has so much bulk that it's impossible to lay side-by-side on your backs. Jason twists onto his side, and after a moment, you do too, using one of his massive biceps as a pillow. He smells like gunpowder. You smell like blood. You fit together like two terrible, violent puzzle pieces.
He kisses your forehead again. Pulls a blanket over the two of you, makes sure it's snug around your feet. You enjoy the fussing.
When he has nothing left to fiddle with, Jason sucks in a ragged inhale, then says, voice cracking, "When I saw those texts, I was terrified."
"I'm glad you checked your phone," you say. "For a while, I thought you wouldn't."
"I could feel that something was wrong."
Your throat hurts. "Did you mess up your mission tonight because of me?"
"Honey, I would do anything for you," he says. "I'd abandon a thousand missions to keep you safe. I'd burn this city to the ground."
Another night, you would remind him that he's a hero. That he fights for the greater good. That he is good.
Tonight, you take comfort in the vow.
"I'm so proud of you," he whispers. "You were so brave. You did so well."
Your fingers twist in his shirt. Your nose nestles into the hollow at the base of his throat perfectly, so you hear every breath he takes, every rumble in his throat when he talks. You press a kiss to his chest just above the neckline of his shirt, and his throat jumps.
Jason makes a strangled noise, then wraps his arms even tighter around you. He throws one leg over your hip, completely covering you, pressing you into the couch. You would feel suffocated if it was anyone else.
You fall asleep faster than you ever have before, secure that Jason won't let anything happen to you during the night. The last thing you register before unconsciousness is his dry lips pressed to your forehead again. Making sure you're alive. Reassuring you that he's here and always will be.
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under the influence (l.dh) — TEASER
PAIRING ▸ stoner!haechan x fem!reader WORD COUNT ▸ 11.1k in the fic, 907 in the teaser WARNINGS ▸ a hint of dubcon, pervy!dom!haechan, shy!sub!reader, dacryphilia, corruption kink, finger sucking, oral (giving & receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, nipple play (receiving), marking, some cum eating, spit play, groping in public, panty stealing & sniffing PLAYLIST ▸ FYS - john concepcion, sweet release - kevin ross NOTES ▸ here’s a preview of Under the Influence 😁 the full fic will hopefully be up by October 7th on my Patreon, but if you’re not subscribed to me there, then it’ll be out on here on October 23rd :) enjoy!
“Pretty girl, you want another hit of the pen?” Haechan offers, and you think back to the way Haechan clutched your chin earlier to shotgun you, finally shaking your head in refusal. “Okay,” he relents, reaching into his back pocket for something and frowning before pulling out an empty hand. “I have something for you.” he says before standing up and heading back to his room.
He emerges once more with a half of a red gummy cube sticking out of his mouth, sitting back down on the couch and draping his arm over the back so it’s ghosting just over your shoulders. “Bite,” he urges through closed teeth, and you shoot him a wary look. “Bite,” he stresses, and you falter, not sure if you should.
“Is it an edible?” you ask cautiously, and he rolls his eyes, an amused chuckle leaving him.
“Yes. Bite.” It’s not a request, and instead of getting huffy about him bossing you around, you’re more surprised than anyone else when you lean in and carefully bite the other end of the gummy, tugging your half away from his mouth before chewing it. It’s sweet and sugary, but there’s a definite strong aftertaste, a tongue-drying, almost numbing sensation that reminds you it was more than just a little snack. “See, you don’t mind sharing with me, right?”
You don’t answer, instead sitting back and pulling out your phone to fire off a quick text to your group chat consisting of the two girls sitting a little ways away from you and your fourth roommate, Yurin, who usually frequents these hangout sessions but had to pass this time to study for midterms.
you [18:11pm] SOS you [18:11pm] he keeps being all TOUCHY TOUCHY what do i do?
You set your phone down on the couch face down and stand up, heading to the bathroom to calm your nerves.
Little do you know, your phone buzzes while you’re gone, Haechan’s curiosity getting the better of him as he flips your phone over.
Luckily for him, and very unluckily for you, you don’t have a privacy setting on your Messages app notifications, meaning that any incoming texts can be read by any prying eyes, no passcode necessary.
yurin big trouble mister [18:14pm] maybe tell him how you get all TOUCHY TOUCHY with yourself to the thought of him 😁 karina bo bina [18:16pm] god could you be any more crass?? yurin big trouble mister [18:17pm] LMAOOO i couldn’t help it the joke was right there yeri berry [18:18pm] you’re laughing. our dear friend is about to get consumed by a weed smoking incubus and you’re laughing.
Haechan snorts to himself in amusement, deliberately leaving your phone face-up for your return. You enter the room shortly after, picking up your phone and scrolling through your notifications with a small frown bordering on a grimace.
“What’s got you all upset, pretty?” Haechan asks, feigning curiosity, and you flinch, locking your phone and tossing it in your lap in a panic. “And now you’re jumpy, too? What’s on that phone that’s got you so stressed out, hm?”
“Nothing,” you answer far too quickly for your liking.
“I don’t think it’s nothing,” Haechan persists, voice lowering in pitch and volume as he moves closer to you, eyes bright with excitement and something else you can’t quite place. “I think there’s something incriminating on that phone.”
“Incriminating?” you mumble, dazed and flustered, and Haechan nods slowly, lips curling into a wolfish grin.
“Incriminating like… nudes, maybe,” he muses, tapping his chin thoughtfully, and at the sight of your confused face, shakes his head. “That must not be it. Maybe a message of some sort… from a friend…” You freeze as you realize exactly what’s going on, and Haechan’s grin only widens now that he can tell you know that he knows. “Wonder what you look like when you… how did she put it? ‘Get all touchy touchy with yourself’ to the thought of me.”
“Haechan,” you murmur, heart rate quickening as you try to think of any possible way out of this conversation. “It’s not what you think it is.”
“I think it’s exactly what I think it is.” he counters with a mischievous wiggle of his brows, and you whimper in panic, desire starting to blaze in his eyes at the sound.
“What were you doing looking at my phone, anyway?” you accuse, cursing to yourself as your voice shakes slightly.
“I’m nosy,” is all he offers in response. “And, oh, please, you wanted me to see that text. You wanted me to know that late at night,” he teases, pulling your hand closest to him away as you squeal and try to cover your ears, “you touch your pretty little pussy,” he forces your hand back down between you two with a chuckle, “and think about me.”
“Could you lower your voice, please?” you mumble nervously, and he just laughs.
“You don’t want everyone to know that you’re into me, do you?” he remarks, and you swallow thickly, looking down at your lap. “I’ll keep your little secret. For a price.”
You study him out of the corner of your eye suspiciously. “What price?”
He strokes his chin thoughtfully before leaning back and draping his arm behind you on the couch. “I’ll let you know.” His voice is teasing but there’s an ominous edge to his voice that makes you gulp.
i hope you enjoyed! you can subscribe to my patreon here to see it 2 weeks early :)
#haechan smut#nct smut#nct dream smut#nct 127 smut#haechan x reader#donghyuck x reader#donghyuck smut#lee donghyuck smut#lee haechan smut
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TRY AGAIN — JJH
PAIRING: jaehyun x female reader SUMMARY: if you could have it your way, you'd never have to see, hear, or even think about jeong jaehyun ever again. a fortuitous blind date, and that same dimpled smile after all those years, is somehow enough to make you reconsider. maybe he was always meant to be by your side. GENRE: exes to lovers! au, slight coworkers! au, romance, angst, slow burn, humour, some pining, a touch of smut WARNINGS: swearing, alcohol consumption, too many descriptions of coffee and wine, mentions of sex, general mature content and themes, reader is not good at talking about her feelings, joy x doyoung, i try to write about the complexity of relationships and personal growth (i fail miserably) WORD COUNT: 32.4k NOTE: oh. my god. it's finally here! there's certainly something different about writing for your ult. office scenes inspired by the internship i did at a big 4 firm that ended up rejecting everyone from my department (yes i'm still bitter). i actually wanted to get this out back in august to celebrate jolo but alas, Life. i guess this is a parting gift? (jaehyun i am nothing and nobody without you.) i poured a lot of heart into this fic and posting it feels like letting my child go out into the world alone... be safe my darling xx
You should’ve brought an umbrella.
The early evening sky was darkening faster than usual, ominous grey clouds hovering between the skyscrapers like an unspoken but imminent threat. Though the ground was still dry, you had a feeling it wouldn’t be for long. Your haste to leave your apartment this morning had robbed you of the good sense to check the weather forecast, mind too preoccupied with tonight’s agenda to spare a thought for the possible torrential downpour that summer seemed to be so fond of.
A glance down at your feet sent a twinge of annoyance through you. Of course you picked the black pumps to wear today. They were pretty, which was why you had slipped them on in the first place, wanting to make a good impression even if you told yourself you didn’t really care that much, but they were also expensive, and you did not want to get them wet. You said a silent prayer. Hopefully the impending rain would be kind to the leather.
“You better not be flaking,” Joy warned, voice crackling through your phone speaker. “I don’t really care what he thinks of you for not showing up, but it’ll reflect badly on me, and I can’t have that.”
You suppressed a smile. Ever the drama queen.
“I am literally walking out of the station right now. The Italian place, right?” you asked, pausing for a moment at the top of the stairs to gather your surroundings. The restaurant she had picked out wasn’t exactly an unknown location to you, but it had been a while since you last visited, and the buildings seemed to look back at you with a dazed unfamiliarity.
She gave an affirmative hum. “Two streets down from the exit. The reservation is under my name, but I think he might be there already.”
“Yippee. How exciting.”
There was a loud sigh from the other end of the line, and you could almost hear her rolling her eyes at you. “You do know I set this up with your best interests at heart, right?”
“Are you sure it’s not because you were bored and needed to use some poor soul for your own entertainment?”
“Hey, I’m not the one who put three packets of salt in Jungwoo’s coffee,” she fired back.
Okay, maybe that one was on you. But it had been pretty funny seeing him spit it out all over the office kitchen counter and then meticulously clean up the mess with paper towels, all the while eyeing everyone on your floor with suspicion.
“I’m just saying,” she continued, “give him a chance. I think you guys could really like each other.” There was a pause. “Plus, he’s super fucking hot. Like if I wasn’t happily taken I would be climbing him like a tree.”
“Gross. I’m filing a complaint with HR.”
“Reporting me to my own department? I’ll make sure that file never even makes it through the portal,” she cackled at your empty threat, and you joined in with her. “Seriously though, just give him a chance. At least stay until the mains come out.”
“Fine,” you acquiesced, though you made sure she heard the huff that accompanied it. “But if he starts talking about cryptocurrency I am leaving.”
Joy only laughed, assuring you he probably wouldn’t, and bid you goodbye with a parting command for you to enjoy yourself.
On days like these, you couldn’t decide whether you were grateful or unlucky to have been placed on a team with her for your first project at the company. Technically speaking, Joy was your senior by almost two years, but even at that first daily stand-up half a year ago, filled with nervous smiles and clumsy introductions, you had the feeling the two of you would gel. By the time that first project wrapped up, the two of you had long progressed past mere co-workers, having bonded over 8-hour days of Powerpoint formatting and your mutual dislike of olives. You had never been more thankful for someone so vivacious to show you the ropes, and help you settle into the new environment with such ease.
However, Joy was a meddler.
Her meddling was what had you currently navigating the crumbly asphalt in your nicest shoes to meet the apparent hunk she had set you up with. You didn’t know much about the guy since she refused to give you his name, afraid you’d search him up on social media and then make up some excuse to back out once you had seen his face — like you had done with the previous two that she’d picked out for you.
Apparently, this one was from the Digital department, and had been at the company for a little over a year. Those were two out of the three pieces of information that she had deigned to bestow upon you, the third being that he had dimples, which she thought you’d appreciate.
Oh, and now the fourth one being that he was ‘super fucking hot’.
Who knew? Maybe you would enjoy yourself. Getting back into the dating scene was pretty low on your priorities, with your career and trying to stick to a consistent gym routine taking up the majority of your time, but you were never opposed to a bit of fun.
Maybe Mr Super-Fucking-Hot could be a bit of fun.
Just take it easy, you thought to yourself, spotting the glass windows of the restaurant as you rounded the corner. Il Giardino, read the sign that hung above the door. Cute.
Hastily, you shifted your bag and cardigan to the other arm and smoothed out the creases in your black trousers. You had tried for something a little dressy, but also office-appropriate since you were coming straight from work, and not like you had tried too hard and spent an unnecessary number of hours thinking about what to wear on this stupid blind date. Another quick glance at your reflection in the window, just to make sure there was no food or lipstick in your teeth, and you pushed past the door.
Soft jazz filtered through your ears as you stepped inside. The restaurant was nicely decorated, a few vintage Italian posters hanging on the exposed brick walls, and an overall rustic feel that paired well with the warm, earthy ambience. Judging by the patrons already seated, this place was a popular date night location, with all but one table occupied by couples sharing soft touches and flirty smiles over half-filled glasses of red wine.
Joy certainly knew how to pick a spot.
You gave the smiling hostess Joy’s name for the reservation, managing a weak smile of your own when she informed you that the other half of your party had already arrived, and followed her through the tables further into the restaurant. Outside, the first few raindrops had begun to splatter against the asphalt, slowly darkening the road with wet patches that were sure to grow into puddles. It seemed you had arrived just in time to escape the rain.
The hostess stopped at a more private table towards the back, and gestured towards the empty seat with that same welcoming smile. Mystery man, aka Mr Super-Fucking-Hot, was sat with his back to you, leafing through what you assumed to be the drinks menu. His silhouette from behind was alright-looking, you supposed, if you really had to put a label to it, but there was something vaguely familiar about the shape of his head. Perhaps you had crossed paths in the office lobby before?
You approached the table, trying to sneak a peek of him out of the corner of your eye, just to see if he lived up to Joy’s oh-so-generous description, without being so painfully obvious—
And froze.
“Is everything alright?” the hostess asked, still beaming at you.
You barely heard her through the cotton wool that seemed to suddenly fill your ears, hands instantly clamming up as you took in the man in front of you. His warm eyes widened a fraction of a millimetre with recognition, quickly followed by something else you couldn’t place.
This was not happening.
“Is everything okay?” the hostess tried again. The corners of her mouth were beginning to slip, and she cast you a mildly concerned glance.
How strange you must have looked, standing stock-still beside your reserved table like a statue. The only things that could dispel the notion you had suddenly turned into stone were the light flush to your cheeks, and the deafening pounding of your own heart that you were sure the whole restaurant could hear.
“Everything’s fine, just give us a minute please,” Jaehyun finally said, flashing the hostess a kind smile. She took her cue to leave, but not without another curious look between the two of you, hurriedly brushing away the waiter who was approaching the table and preparing to rattle off the specials.
Hearing his voice seemed to break the spell that had rendered you so immobile. You straightened, shifting your bag higher up your shoulder, and turned to leave. Whatever this was, you were not entertaining it.
Chair legs screeched abruptly against the floor.
“Wait,” he pleaded.
Your eyes landed on his hand latched around your wrist first, before they moved to his face again. Slowly, his fingers loosened, but he kept you in his hold.
“Will you sit, please?” he asked softly.
You looked at him. Really looked at him, taking in his full, straight brows, the slope of his nose, the pinkness of his lips. His cheeks had slimmed since you had last seen him, allowing the sharpness of his jaw to really come through. Breathtakingly handsome as he always had been. A little older, a little more masculine, and yet somehow still the same.
And maybe because you still saw him, the boy that you loved, the first and likely only boy you had ever truly loved, you did sit, sliding into your chair like it was made of ice.
“It’s been a while,” he began, lowering back into his seat. You gave no indication that you had heard him at all, eyes focused on the flickering tealight candle at the centre of the table. The wax was a pinkish red colour, and the light scent coming from it was sweet, with a touch of tartness. Pomegranate, maybe. At your silence, he cleared his throat and tried again. “How have you—”
“Did you plan this?”
He pulled back a bit, as if in genuine shock. “No, I swear, I had no idea it was you. Joy only told me it was someone from her department, and that you were pretty, and she thought you’d be my type.” A pause. “Did you?”
Your reply was icy. “Why would I plan to see you?”
He looked away at that, sucking in a breath through his teeth. You were probably mistaken, but something akin to hurt flashed in those eyes as he gave a short nod at your words. Likely a trick of the light. It was a little too dim in here. What reason would he have to be hurt? Why would he be bleeding when you were the one with cuts all over your hands from picking up the glass shards of your own broken heart?
An uncomfortable beat passed. “Well, I’d say it was nice to see you, but you know I’m not good at lying,” you said. Shouldn’t have sat down in the first place.
Grabbing your bag and cardigan, you made to stand up again, regretting your decision to come here, regretting giving in to Joy so easily, regretting leaving the house this morning without a stupid fucking umbrella. The drizzle outside had turned into a downpour in no time, and the street drains were definitely going to clog up tonight.
Seoul and its fucking summer monsoon season.
“Can we just—please, can you—fuck. Can we have dinner and just talk? As friends?” His hand shot out across the table, as if itching to grab yours again, but thought better of it, letting his fingertips rest against the edges of the linen napkin you hadn’t even bothered to unfold.
A refraction of light from his sleeve caught your eye. His cufflinks. He was wearing the cufflinks you had gotten him for your high school graduation all those years ago.
They had been expensive. Four months of pay from your part-time job at the ice-cream parlour was just enough for the pale pearls set in sterling silver. You supposed it would have been silly of him to throw them away when they were so valuable. It wasn’t like you had thrown away the gold pendant he had given you either. That necklace hadn’t hung around your neck for a long time, but it still sat somewhere in the depths of your jewellery box, underneath all the newer ones you had bought for yourself or received from friends over the years.
“Fine,” you found yourself saying. “Sure. As friends. Why not?”
Sinking back into your seat, you reached for the wine menu immediately. Enduring the next hour in the company of your ex-boyfriend without a drink? Unbearable. As much as you liked to convince yourself you were over him, from your behaviour tonight it was clear you most certainly were not, and only alcohol could soothe that blow to your pride.
Your eyes flitted down the page of reds, then the whites, then the sparklings. Christ, the prices in this place were not pretty. Joy would have to be in a completely separate tax bracket from you if these were the kinds of establishments she frequented.
For a brief moment, you thought about ordering the most expensive bottle on the list — a Penfold’s 2018 Shiraz — just to be spiteful, but decided against it. If you were really going to be sharing a meal ‘as friends’, he would not be footing the entire bill. You wouldn’t let him.
The waiter, under the impression that things had somewhat cooled down, finally approached your table, albeit a bit cautiously. Hearing but not really listening, you let him sing praises about the wild mushroom ravioli, ordering it just to save yourself the effort of reading through the rest of the menu. When he reached the beverages portion of his spiel, you settled for a more reasonable bottle, a 2021 merlot.
It was only once he had left to put your orders in that you realised that you had not even checked if Jaehyun was driving tonight.
“I’ll pay for the wine, if you’re not drinking,” you said, fiddling with your napkin. You could probably finish the whole bottle yourself anyway. Maybe that would make it easier to look him in the eye.
“You really don’t need to do that,” he replied, voice soft but firm. The weight of his eyes on you was almost a tangible thing. “I’ll have a glass.”
Your waiter returned, making a show of uncorking the bottle before pouring it out into both your glasses. You couldn’t down the first one fast enough, draining half the contents in one long mouthful like it was your first taste of water after finishing a marathon. Jaehyun was more deliberate with his glass, taking only a few small sips before he set it down on the table again. If he noticed the speed at which you emptied yours, which it was pretty hard not to with the way you were gulping the wine down, he said nothing.
God, this was fucking awkward.
“So,” he began, trying to mask the crack of his voice with a cough, “what made you agree to this thing?”
You reached for the bottle. “Felt like I owed it to Joy,” you said, pouring yourself another glass. “I flaked out of the last two she organised.”
Maybe you should have just gone on that first one with Taehyung, or Taehyun, or whatever his name was. Then you could have avoided this situation altogether.
“So you do this kind of thing a lot, then?” came his careful question.
You were curt. “No.”
He blinked a few times, the movements slow with confusion at the abruptness of your answer. You knew you were being difficult. You wanted to be. Five years could heal most things, but unspoken words could linger like splinters under your fingernails, festering below the surface. Calluses had hardened over the splinters of your breakup, tough and protective, but now it was as if they were pushing through to the surface again, your fingers newly tender at the sight of him after all those years.
A small part of you wanted to give him a taste of your hurt, wanted him to feel the prick of tiny wood chips in the flesh behind his nail beds. The larger part, however, knew malice would do no good for you. You had survived the pain. There was no reason to survive poison as well.
“No, I don’t,” you tried again, a little softer, a little less jagged around the edges. “I think she just likes to set them up for fun. This is my first time on one of these blind uh…” The word date sat heavy on the tip of your tongue but refused to budge. “One of these things.” Maybe another mouthful of wine would wash it down.
“Her definition of fun can be rather interesting,” he said, politely filling the silence.
You hummed in agreement, raising the freshly filled wine glass to your mouth again as you scrambled around in your head for something, anything to say. It had been a while since you had last been out on the dating scene, and you were well aware of it, but good grief, it was like your conversational skills had evaporated into thin air.
“How do you know Joy?” was what you decided on after a deliberately slow sip.
Thankfully, Jaehyun seemed to still know how to carry a conversation. “She’s one of the HR reps for Digital, so we’ve spoken a few times before. And her boyfriend is a friend from university.” He paused to take a sip of his wine. “Have you met him?”
You shook your head lightly. “No, not yet. Hoping to, soon.”
“You’ll like him. Doyoung’s a great guy. Patience of a saint.”
“He’d have to be to keep up with her,” you said, hints of a chuckle sprinkled in your voice.
Something about the fact that he was already privy to more of Joy’s personal life than you were had a sliver of jealousy wriggling in your stomach. She was supposed to be your friend, and yet you knew very little about Doyoung besides his name, while your ex-boyfriend across from you had been buddy-buddy with him for probably years and years. Not that it was a competition to see who held more information about their coworker outside the office, but the feeling that you were somewhat losing didn’t sit well.
“It’s actually my first time on a blind date as well,” he said, allowing himself a tentative smile. “You know how convincing she can be. I mean, I don’t think I’d ever go on one if she hadn’t roped me in. It feels a bit silly meeting up with a complete stranger, you know?” He turned his smile to you, still tentative but coloured with a tinge of hopefulness, like he wanted you to understand, like he knew you would.
How could you not? There had once been a time where you believed that you and Jaehyun had been two halves of the same soul, carved into existence from the same stone. There had once been a time where you knew him almost better than he knew himself.
A time rather distant from now.
You kept your answer non-committal. “Sure,” you murmured, wishing his pretty face wouldn’t fall so quickly at your nonchalance, wishing you hadn’t caught the slightest droop to the curve of his mouth. Everything about him was still too familiar. “I’m just a bit surprised to hear that, I guess. You were so desperate to meet new people back then.”
Three seconds passed in silence.
His eyes dropped to his lap, as did yours to your own. This previously reasonable bottle of merlot was loosening your lips rather unreasonably.
“Sorry, that was—” Unnecessary? Mean?
True?
“I didn’t mean to say that,” you finally managed, the words spilling out of your mouth in a tumbled rush.
Or maybe you had.
Jaehyun could only flash you a weak smile. “It’s fine,” he said, though you both knew it wasn’t really.
Frigidity returned to the air between you, stopped just short of freezing over by the reappearance of your waiter, along with a plate of goat’s cheese arancini. Jaehyun politely gestured for you to eat first, watching as you speared the crusty surface with your fork and moved it over to your own plate. For a few seconds, the only noises that could be heard from the table were the clinks and clanks of stainless steel utensils against ceramic plates. The arancini could not have come at a better time, affording both of you the opportunity to hide behind the guise of eating, and put off the need to make strained conversation, even if the time it bought you was fleeting.
Meet new people. Those were the exact words he had said to you all those years ago. Han River on a Tuesday night, cherry blossom petals fluttering through the balmy April air, the iciness of winter finally melting away into a distant memory to reveal fresh green carpets and vivid blooms — few things could have been more romantic. Spring is the season of love, they said.
But for you, spring was the season of loss. It was the season when love ended, when love could be taken back and snatched away in the blink of an eye. On a Tuesday night in April, you learned that your love was not just not enough, but that it was a burden, an obstacle between Jaehyun and living his life to the fullest. That time spent with you was time squandered. That you were robbing him of the complete university experience, and to an extent, his youth.
Jaehyun had always been a wanter. He wanted boldly and he wanted freely, never dwelling too long on how his wanting could appear in the eyes of others, never shy about his desires. When he was ten years old, he wanted a dog, despite the reddening of his nose and the watering of his eyes whenever he’d get within arm’s distance of the bichon frisé. In tenth grade, he wanted you, with cans of peach soda and sweet little notes in your locker until you finally said yes to being his girlfriend after three days of public pursuit.
(You had arguably wanted him more, and for longer, though nobody had been none the wiser — you were rather good at hiding your feelings.)
Two months into your first year at university, his wants changed. He wanted more space and more freedom to meet new people. He wanted to be able to attend club social outings, and get to know his seniors, and play drinking games with his new roommates, instead of trekking to the other side of Seoul every week to see you, his girlfriend, who had now become his obligation.
It would have been a lie to say you hadn’t noticed a shift in his behaviour in the months leading up to that fateful night. Smiles had become a little wearier. Texts had become sparser. You had chalked it up to the challenges of settling into the new routine and rigorous coursework, and the distance between your schools that occupied opposite sides of the city. Sure, the hour-long subway ride from his campus to yours wasn’t the greatest asset to your relationship, but 18-year-old you had remained optimistic it would endure whatever curveballs your first year of university and the beginnings of real adulthood would throw at you.
You had survived the CSAT together and emerged in one piece. What else could be harder than that?
“You’re right though,” he said quietly, eyes fixed on his own piece of fried goat’s cheese. “I guess I was.”
You let your fork drop with a soft clang. “Let’s not, uh—we don’t have to talk about that.” Pink petals were swimming at the edges of your vision.
Please, let’s not talk about that.
A flicker of something behind his eyes could almost convince you he wanted exactly the opposite of your unspoken plea. Maybe this was a conversation he didn’t actually want to avoid the way you so desperately did.
And maybe he would have said something too, if not for the waiter who returned at that precise moment.
“The mushroom ravioli,” the waiter announced, setting the plate down in front of you, “and the amatriciana spaghetti. Enjoy.”
Four pieces of pasta covered in sage butter looked back up at you.
You made a mental note to never order ravioli at an Italian restaurant ever again.
The sound of scraping utensils returned to your table, lightly blanketing the stilted pause in conversation with idle noise. Without much enthusiasm, you sliced at one of the four pieces of your ravioli, throwing what you hoped were sneaky glances at the full plate of spaghetti sitting in an appetising red sauce laid out before your ex-boyfriend.
“Do you want to try mine?”
Sneakiness had never been your forte.
Your polite refusal came quickly, even if it was rather weak to your own ears, but Jaehyun was already twirling a portion out onto the share plate the waiter had kindly provided a few minutes earlier. He made sure to scoop some sauce and pancetta bits on top as well, before gently pushing the plate towards you.
“Thanks,” you mumbled, though you made no move to dig in.
Everything wasn’t supposed to feel this familiar. You weren’t supposed to soften so easily at the sight of his dimpled smile. You weren’t supposed to feel that strange tug in your chest at his thoughtfulness, at the way he could still pick up the slightest change in your expression. And maybe the bar was too low, and here you were fawning over nothing more than the bare minimum, because what guy would see his date enviously looking at his food instead of her own and blatantly ignore it?
But with Jaehyun, it was different. You knew it was. Within every action, there was familiarity and practice, there was thought and care, there were years of history that were unerasable, even with the passage of time. You weren’t the same wide-eyed teenagers now as you had been then, and yet scenes from the rest of that excruciating first semester flickered in your mind.
A silent breakdown during a business administration lecture. Your roommate’s concerned expression when you decided to skip dinner again.
The tug in your chest was leading you back into dangerous territory.
For the third time tonight, you debated grabbing your things and walking straight out. You had only promised Joy that you would stay until the mains came out. If you were going to leave now, technically, you would still have fulfilled your end of the promise. Arguably, this wasn’t the best time to make an exit — fifteen minutes earlier would have been much better so that the kitchen would have time to cancel your stupid ravioli before they started preparing it. Leaving now wouldn’t be the most optimal, but it was still an option. A tad heavy on the dramatics, but you could live with that. You’d just never be able to step foot in this establishment again.
A shame. The spaghetti looked good. You’d have to search up if this place did delivery.
“You can go if you really want to, I won’t hold it against you,” Jaehyun said quietly. His eyes were fixed on the fork he was twirling through his dish. You supposed you should’ve been surprised at the way he could read your mind without even looking at you, but you couldn’t find the energy in you to pretend.
“But,” he continued at your silence, “if you’re willing to stay, I’d really like it if we could just catch up?” At this, he finally met your eyes and offered a small smile. “It has been a while, after all.”
Maybe it was the sincerity contained in those soft brown eyes. Maybe it was because you really did want to try the amatriciana spaghetti while it was hot and fresh off the stove. Whatever it was, you found yourself resolving to stay, despite all the reasons not to, despite the sound of them loud and clear in your head, ready at your disposal. Allowing yourself to indulge in nostalgia once in a while couldn’t be that bad for you. Right?
So you stayed. And you ate (his spicy amatriciana scored a landslide victory over your mushroom ravioli). And you talked. As two friends would do, catching each other up on the things that had shaped your lives since you had gone on your separate ways.
Conversation was clunky at first, that was to be expected. Even the closest of friendships would encounter some choppy waters when reconnecting for the first time after five years. But conversation with Jaehyun gave way to smooth sailing much quicker than you would have expected. He still wore the face of the boy who would sneak an extra serving of fried sweet potato from the cafeteria because he knew you liked them, but he wasn’t quite the same. Older, certainly. Maturity wasn’t something that went hand-in-hand with age like you had thought when you were younger, but he was more mature too. Surer of himself, and his place in the world.
You heard of the summer he spent in the UK after graduation, visiting his uncle and their family, appreciating classical architecture and the leisure inherent to rolling green hills that he hadn’t been able to find in the metropolis he had grown up in. (The food, however, was an entirely different story. He had never been so overjoyed to see a bowl of rice that wasn’t covered in mushy peas or sitting in a puddle of questionable-looking curry.)
He learned of your semester exchange in Amsterdam, including the unfortunate incident involving you, a runaway bicycle, and the freezing water of the Dutch canals. Fortunately, a nasty cold and two weeks in bed over the Christmas break were the worst things that came of it. Those few months had been eye-opening, to say the least. Stepping outside of your own bubble had made you realise how much more there was to the world, and how little you knew of it.
Yes, Jaehyun had changed, but then again so had you. The realisation dawned halfway through dessert, slowly settling over you as you spooned at the tiramisu in the centre of the table. Perhaps it hadn’t been fair to him that you had been harbouring this seed of antagonism towards him for all these years. He, so afflicted by youth, as you both had been back then, was only doing what he thought was right and necessary. Could you really fault him for that? You had seen enough of life now to know that sometimes, nobody was to blame.
There was a comfortable lull in the conversation before he spoke again. The sound of his voice drew you away from the window, where you could see that the rain had slowed from the earlier dramatic downpour to a lighter shower.
“I know I probably wasn’t who you were expecting today,” he said, a little hesitant and gauging your expression.
“You definitely were not.” You gave him an amused half-smile over the rim of your barely-filled glass, which he returned. The bottle of merlot sat tall and empty on the table.
“I just wanted to say,” he began, taking in a breath, “I’m glad it was you. It was really nice to see you again. And I’m sorry if you were disappointed that it was me.”
There was something sad in the curve of his mouth, you thought. It tempered the warmth in his eyes.
“I’m not disappointed,” you heard yourself say. “Really.”
It was the truth. You knew he could see it written across your face. Dishonesty and insincere flattery were not familiar weapons you wielded. He knew that. He knew you.
Jaehyun sat back, bringing his own glass to his lips and draining the lingering contents. Perhaps to hide the private smile that broke out across his handsome face, which you pretended not to see, turning your attention back to the raindrops pattering against the window.
The evening air was cool on your bare arms when you stepped out, taking shelter under the awning in front of the restaurant. You weren’t the only one who had forgone a weather app consultation today. Jaehyun stood beside you, hands tucked neatly in the pockets of his slacks, a not unwelcome companion while you waited for your taxi to arrive. He’d call one later, after he made sure you had gotten in the car and were on the way home.
“I guess I’ll see you around?” he asked, tone light.
You cast a sidelong glance at him. His profile was backlit by the warm light emanating from inside the restaurant, carving out the straight bridge of his nose, a soft shadow cupping the fullness of his bottom lip. Would there ever be a time the sight of him wouldn’t take your breath away?
“Maybe,” you breathed. Letting him back into your life wasn’t a decision you felt ready to make yet, and you had no intention of promising him anything you couldn’t be sure you’d be able to deliver. Even if you would only be promising him friendship.
He didn’t push it further and hummed in understanding. Then your taxi was pulling up in front of the restaurant, the splash from the tyres just missing the hem of your trousers, and you were bidding him goodbye, staring a second too long at the dimples that appeared, and trying not to step in a pothole puddle as you clambered rather ungracefully into the car.
But because realisation was never punctual, it was only when you arrived home, carefully kicking off the black pumps and patting them dry with a microfibre cloth, that you realised two things.
First, you had left your cardigan at the Italian restaurant.
And second, Jaehyun had footed the whole bill.
There was a reason the seventh floor was your favourite floor in the building.
It wasn’t because of the little in-office cafe with the cute but ridiculously overpriced pastries that tasted even better than they looked, or the deceptively comfortable bean bag chairs by the far window that would always tempt you with a mid-afternoon nap every time you sank into one of them.
No. The seventh floor was your favourite because it had a Nespresso machine. Free use. Company-funded.
A seventh floor coffee was one of the only things that could get you to leave the comfort of your desk and willingly walk up two flights of stairs. (The elevators always took too long.) On Monday afternoons like these, after an entire morning swimming through attendance and sick leave reports from the last quarter, the promise of a smooth and velvety cappuccino felt like your only hope for humanity. Unfortunately for you, it seemed like everybody else had the same idea, if the line in front of the coffee machine was anything to judge by.
“You should have told me!”
You gave Joy an incredulous look. “Right. Because I definitely knew exactly who he was.”
“Well, you could have worked it out. You’re a smart girl.”
“You said a total of three sentences about him.”
She paused, fixing you with a contemplative stare. Her eyebrows were doing that weird lifting thing when she was running something through her head. “Five sentences,” she finally managed, tapping around the rim of her empty mug.
Why she came up with you at all when she wasn’t a coffee person, would probably take two sips of the espresso, and then complain it was too bitter, was beyond you. Sometimes you wondered if she was really that good at her job, or if her workload was just so non-existent that she could take five coffee breaks a day. It couldn’t be the latter, because you had seen that her calendar was full for the entire morning.
“Let’s not spend the next fifteen minutes talking about last Friday,” you sighed, already pushing thoughts of dimpled smiles and warm eyes to the far corner of your mind. Hopefully not to be revisited for a while. “I want my head outrageously blank while I enjoy this cappuccino. Swear to god Junmyeon is trying to drown me with those leave reports.”
“You know he only assigns them to you because you’ve never told him you hate doing it.”
“He assigns them to me because I’m the only one available who can get it done properly. You’re always blocked out, and Jungwoo has that weekly coaching session. Jisung tried to help me do it this morning, and he didn’t even separate paid from unpaid leave. The numbers looked like we were bleeding PTO.”
She gave you a sly smile. “You know you can block yourself out too,” she said off-handedly.
“You can what?”
This was new information.
“You’re telling me someone else could be sifting through that 70-page file if I just schedule in a random meeting with myself?” you asked again, to which she nodded.
“Has yet to fail me. But make sure you name it something that makes sense, and don’t do it all the time, otherwise it’ll look suspicious.”
Corporate bullshitting was a fine art, and you were beginning to realise you were still but a novice at it.
“And lay off the intern,” she added. “He’s just a child.” “He’s taller than Junmyeon.”
“A child in spirit, then. You know what I mean. He sort of reminds me of a cute little mouse,” she mused, trailing off. If her apartment complex didn’t have a pet ban, you had a feeling she would be taking in every stray animal off the street.
However, she was right. Jisung had been a bigger help than you had expected of a second-year commerce student. Even if it was just skimming through a finished presentation pack to fix up any typos and align text boxes, you couldn’t deny that having an extra pair of eyes and hands had made your life a little bit easier. Maybe you would even miss him once his summer placement came to an end and the semester rolled back around. As long as there weren’t too many more incidents like the one from this morning.
Speaking of this morning…
“Hey, does that mean you’ve been making yourself unavailable so you don’t have to read the—”
“Oh look! The line’s getting shorter. You should move up before someone cuts in.”
You shuffled forward, but not without throwing her a displeased look along with a grumble or two. Next time the quarterly attendance analysis rolled around, you were definitely making use of the trick she had just told you about. A quick glance up ahead. There were now three people in front of you in the line, but only one green capsule left on the rack.
Please, caffeine gods be willing, let that last one be yours.
“I can’t believe I told you that I thought your ex-boyfriend was super fucking hot. I feel so icky, like I’ve betrayed you somehow,” Joy said, making a face. The dimpled smile fought its way back into your consciousness, and you suppressed the twist in your stomach that seemed to accompany every recollection of it.
“It’s honestly fine. There’s no way you could have known.” You shrugged, partly to reassure her it wasn’t a big deal, and partly to shake off that funny feeling in the pit of your stomach.
The better part of your weekend had been spent trying to make sense of the night, after battling a merlot-induced migraine for most of Saturday morning and early afternoon. Three glasses had been a necessity to get through dinner, but it was ultimately overkill. You were no longer the girl from two years ago who took advantage of her afternoon class the next day by destroying a few soju bottles with your roommates. On a weeknight, too.
Joy gave your arm a soft squeeze. “Still, I’m sorry I put you through that. Hopefully it wasn’t completely awful?”
Completely awful, it was not. Awful at some parts? Maybe.
Truthfully, you hadn’t been prepared to see Jaehyun again. Not to say that you had never thought about it — you definitely had, running simulations through your head about how you would run into him on the street, ignore his greeting and walk past him like he didn’t even exist. But those were the musings of a heart-broken teenager, turning to spite and cheap endeavours at revenge to cope with the loss of her first love. Last Friday did have spite rearing its ugly head, but that spite was short-lived, and only one aspect that made up the whirlwind of emotions that came with seeing him again after all those years.
“No, it wasn’t all bad,” you were about to say, when your eye was suddenly caught by a movement up ahead.
A slender, veiny hand reached out to grab the last green pod from the coffee rack. You watched as the thief’s fingers closed around the capsule and slotted it into the machine. He pressed the lever down — because of course, it was a man. Not only was he on the better side of the gender wage gap, but he also had to be ahead of you in the caffeine race as well.
The sound of the capsule being punctured was the final blow.
“My coffee,” you lamented under your breath.
“Have some patience,” Joy chided. “We’re nearly there. You’re like a zombie when you don’t have your little cup of bean juice.”
You shook your head glumly. “The last Peruvian. I waited for so long. It was supposed to be mine, and he took it.”
“Who did?”
“The guy at the front.”
Your eyes were still glued on the hand as it wrapped around the mug filled with your favourite blend, completely unaware that it had just robbed you of the only small pocket of joy you had been looking forward to all afternoon. Peering around the two people still ahead, your gaze travelled up his exposed forearm and the sleeve of the white dress shirt cuffed there. If only you could catch a glimpse of the face that had stomped all over your hopes and dreams…
The lady in front of you shuffled closer to the coffee machine and finally cleared your line of sight. Coffee stealer’s ear came into view before his face did, and he was—
“Jaehyun?”
His name fell out of Joy’s mouth before you could even get your own to start working again and beg her not to call out to him. For a moment you were afraid you had conjured him out of thin air from the uninvited thoughts of him circling the outskirts of your mind. At least now you knew he wasn’t a hallucination.
Jaehyun’s eyebrows pinched in confusion first, then surprise, before finally smoothing over with recognition. He offered a small wave, eyes flitting from Joy over to you, and then he was walking over, and you were fighting for your life trying to mask the panic that was bubbling away inside your chest.
You shot Joy a frantic look. Why did you do that?
I don’t know! Sorry, said her returning one. The corners of her mouth were turned down in an apologetic frown, but she quickly schooled it into a smile at Jaehyun’s approach.
“I’ve never seen you on seven before,” Joy said, the spitting image of friendliness, nevermind that you were beside her and desperately looking for an exit out of the incoming conversation. “You’re always holed up somewhere on ten.”
You supposed you should have known this would happen sooner or later. Six months without running into each other when you worked at the same company, in the same building, was the exception, not the rule. You were just grateful Joy didn’t try to bring up her clever little dinner setup that had been plaguing you the entire weekend, or try and rope the two of you into awkward and unnecessary introductions.
“Someone told me I should come down and try the Nespresso machine. Apparently it’s really good,” he said, gesturing at the mug you had been staring at for the past three minutes.
“It is,” were the first two words you managed. Both pairs of eyes shifted towards you, waiting for the rest of your comment to come, but you could only disappoint, the syllables hanging thick and dumb in the air.
There appeared to be some sort of blockage in your mouth-to-brain pipeline.
Joy cleared her throat lightly, throwing you a sideways glance. “Which one did you try? They all taste the same to me, but she only drinks the green ones,” she said, ignoring the panicked twitch of your mouth. She knew full well that he was the one you’d been staring daggers into ever since he grabbed that stupid capsule. Your stupid capsule.
Jaehyun’s eyes flicked between your face and the steaming drink in his hand a few times.
“Do you want mine? I think I might have taken the last green one.” He offered the mug to you. “I didn’t really know what to press, so it’s just a cappuccino. Regular milk. I haven’t had any yet.”
“It’s fine, you should have yours. I’ll get another one,” you politely declined. No matter how much you liked the Peruvian blend, it was not worth the charity from your ex-boyfriend. Even if it was the only thing that could get you through the rest of the afternoon. Even if he was holding the exact thing that you had been planning on getting.
Hopefully the kitchen staff would restock those capsules by tomorrow.
The look he gave you was not a convinced one, but he didn’t push further. With your dismissal of his offer, the three of you lapsed into a sticky silence. Even Joy, who was so adept at making topics of conversation out of nothing, had little to add, passing up the challenge of pulling meaningful sentences out of your mouth. The stifling tension between you and Jaehyun must have been more powerful than you thought.
“Shoot, I think I’m getting a Teams call,” Joy suddenly said, making a show of pulling her phone out and tapping the screen.
Liar. She didn’t even have the app notifications turned on.
“I should probably take this, but I’ll see the both of you later.” She flashed a contrite smile, and then she was off, almost speed-walking her way down the stairs you had come up together, all the while pressing her phone to her ear with a little too much urgency for a mid-afternoon cold call. By the look on Jaehyun’s face, he hadn’t been all that impressed by her impromptu theatrics either.
“Are you still in the line?”
“Sorry, yes,” you muttered at the woman behind you. Clearly, you were not the only one impatient for their caffeine fix.
Finally, you were at the counter. You stared blankly at the rack of capsules. The empty space where the green ones were usually stored was glaringly obvious, jumping out at you while you skimmed through the other blends for a passable alternative. After many more seconds than would have been necessary to pick one flavour out of the remaining three, your fingers closed around a gold one. It would have to do for today.
Jaehyun watched as you dropped the capsule into its slot and made your selections. Why he was still here with you was somewhat of a mystery. You would’ve thought that Joy’s hasty exit would have prompted him to do the same, saving the both of you from having to make bumbling small talk about the weather, or the weekend, or whatever else that two people working at the same company, with no other relational history, could talk about to fill in the silence.
Maybe he wanted to talk about the dinner bill. The fact that he had settled it, without you even noticing, had been weighing on your mind. It was less of a money thing — though you were pretty sure the total hadn’t been a modest number — than a pride thing. Being indebted to others always left a smear on your conscience.
Being indebted to your ex-boyfriend was like someone had shit all over it.
Whatever. If he didn’t bring it up first, you would. This was the 21st century. You were both financially independent adults. Splitting the bill on a first date didn’t have to be such a contentious thing.
Although technically, it was far from your first. And it wasn’t a date either, because you had refused to label it as such in your head.
The last few drops of milk and espresso trickled into the mug, before the machine stopped whirring altogether. You knew he was still there. You could feel his presence behind you. He had probably been waiting for the noise to stop so that you’d be able to hear him speak. Taking your mug off the stand, you turned to face him.
“Your cardigan,” he said.
“Huh?”
Confusion splashed over you. You weren’t even wearing one today.
“I have your cardigan,” he amended. “From Friday. You left it inside the restaurant. One of the waiters brought it out, but you had left already, so I took it with me.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I have it now, if you want it back.”
“You do?”
“I mean, it’s at my desk. I brought it in today,” he added quickly, seeing the way you were looking about his person like you were expecting it to materialise into his hands.
You blinked a few times, trying to clear the brain fog that had decided now was the perfect time to strike. “Yes, I—thank you, um, for that. I can take it off you…?”
Had you meant to have it sound so much like a question? It seemed like your capacity for human speech was always afflicted by some sort of malfunction in his presence.
“Okay, uh, do you want to come up to my desk? I’ve got it there.”
The elevator ride up to the tenth floor was a short one. You could have taken the stairs just to get the extra steps in, but with both of you holding uncovered drinks, three flights of stairs combined with your clumsy fingers were a slip hazard just waiting to happen. Still, despite the short journey, the seconds inside the elevator seemed to drag on for much longer.
Before you could lose your nerve, you opened your mouth to crack the silence.
“Let me pay you back for dinner.”
Good. It sounded good. Firm, but not overbearing. Hell yeah, you were getting the hang of this conversation-with-your-ex-boyfriend thing.
Jaehyun seemed a bit taken aback by that, turning to you slightly with surprise woven into the crease of his brow. “You really don’t need to do that,” he said after a beat.
The elevator dinged, and he stepped out through the sliding doors before you could form a coherent response. It took a second for you to follow, the coffee inside your mug almost making a dangerous appearance all over the elevator floor as you caught up with his strides.
“Think of it as me taking care of a junior colleague. I am your senior, you know,” he said over his shoulder, a smile gracing his features at the latter part.
“Only by half a year,” you grumbled. “That doesn’t even count.” The light shake of his broad shoulders let you know he had heard your gripes over his attempts at enforcing seniority. His accompanying laugh was a soft one. You barely caught it above the noise of the tenth floor office.
The mellowed cosiness of the fifth floor HR department was hard to be found here. You were used to some chatter, with the occasional high-pitched laugh from Joy punctuating the air. On days he was feeling particularly jovial, Junmyeon could be heard humming from whichever desk he had decided to park at for the day (such was the beauty of hot-desking and hotelling). The few occasions you shared a table with him had allowed you to recognise the melody of The Beatles’ Strawberry Fields Forever — always the same song, and he hummed everything except for the words ‘strawberry fields’, which he insisted on singing, albeit softly.
Nothing about Digital was soft or cosy. Except maybe the sofa in one of the open creative spaces. The floor buzzed with activity, from the influx of incoming call ringtones to agenda-packed meetings in conference rooms. A group of people were clustered around a floor-to-ceiling whiteboard covered in diagrams that were undecipherable to you, engaged in animated conversation while pointing at various parts of the board. Some of them greeted Jaehyun as he walked past with you in tow.
“I had no idea Digital was this busy,” you mused out loud, following him as he weaved through the desks.
He chuckled lightly. “We like to talk a lot. And some of us can get a bit loud,” he said. The joking undercurrent to his voice had you thinking that the second part was said with someone in mind. “But it’s more hectic than usual. We’ve just won a really big bid and Johnny’s excited about his first time leading one of the streams.” He paused to wave and give a thumbs-up at the man standing at the very front of the whiteboard group (you assumed this was Johnny), who returned the greetings with just as much enthusiasm.
Jaehyun had always been a people person. That was one thing that would likely never change.
The two of you arrived at his desk, a quieter one next to the windows offering an almost unobstructed view of the city. He dug around his workspace, pulling out a Jo Malone gift bag.
“Ignore the bag,” he said, catching your wary expression. “I didn’t want to stuff it in my duffel with the rest of my gym stuff.”
You took it from his outstretched hand, with a quick glance to check that it was in fact your cardigan. The ribbed black fabric sat inside, folded neatly over itself.
“It got rained on quite a bit, so I washed it. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course, that’s kind of you, Jaehyun. You didn’t have to.” For a moment, you wondered if he still used the same pine-scented laundry detergent. The smell of it used to cling to his school uniform, a burst of freshness you always sought during the muggy summer days.
“Thank you,” you said, giving him a grateful smile. “I thought I lost it for good.” In your mind, you had already made peace with the fact that you would probably see the thing ever again. Yet all weekend, it had been taking up space in Jaehyun’s hamper, uncertain as to when it would finally be able to reunite with your closet.
You gave him a careful look.
“Did you plan on seeing me today?” you asked.
“No. Yes. I mean—” The tips of his ears took on the faintest hint of a pink flush. “I didn’t know if I would run into you, so I’m glad I did. But otherwise, I was just going to give it to Joy and get her to pass it along to you,” he trailed off, gaze shifting sideways to the cityscape posted on the other side of the glass windows.
Neither of you had bothered with exchanging contact details after dinner, an oversight that was more deliberate than not on your part. His re-entry into your life was something you hadn’t felt quite ready for. And yet—
“Do you want my number?”
Stupid mouth. The words were out before you even registered that you had spoken. You prayed he wouldn’t pick up on the unintended suggestion of the question, though judging by the quick raise of his left eyebrow, you weren’t the only one who realised the other possible interpretations of your words.
“I mean, just in case something like this happens again. So you can contact me directly,” you added quickly. Heat slowly crept its way up to your cheeks. You hoped he wouldn’t notice.
“Sure,” he said, lips curling into a smile. “If that’s okay with you.”
Considering you were the one who had said it out loud in the first place, it would have been strange if you suddenly decided it was not okay with you.
There was some fumbling with each other’s phones, before you were typing your number to add into his contacts, and he was doing the same to yours. Would he realise yours was still the same string of digits as it had been five years ago?
“Well, I’d better get going,” you said, handing back his phone. Now was as good a time to make an easy exit as any. You had planned on gossiping with Joy in the level seven kitchen for the rest of the hour, but back to your desk appeared to be the more likely destination this afternoon. 70-page files didn’t read themselves. “Thanks for the cardigan. I’ll see you later, then?”
Jaehyun looked like he had more to say, but you were already turning around, ready to leave the hubbub of the tenth floor. Ready to leave the presence of your ex-boyfriend-turned-friend? Acquaintance? You shook your head lightly. A drink was needed to unpack that box of worms.
A call of your name had you pausing mid-step.
“Your coffee,” Jaehyun said, tapping you on the shoulder to hand you your mug.
“Thanks,” you mumbled, taking it from his grasp. You hadn’t even bothered to take a sip of the non-Peruvian cappuccino, the surface still untouched. It was probably cold now. Maybe you’d pass it off to Jungwoo, this time sans the salt.
“You know, if the dinner bill thing bothers you that much, you can just make it up to me later.”
You blinked at him a few times. “Make it up to you how?”
“Ah, that’s for me to decide,” he replied, a boyish glint to his smiling eyes. Both his dimples popped out, and you found yourself unable to choose which one to focus on.
Then he was moving, and you were left staring at the broad expanse of his back as he walked away. Head full of thoughts wondering what the hell kind of favour he would now hold over your head, you almost walked straight into Jungwoo as you came out of the elevator.
“Hey, I got a Nespresso from seven. You want it?” you asked, offering him the coffee you stopped yourself from spilling all over him. He eyed the mug apprehensively.
“You put salt in it again, didn’t you?”
“No? Where did you even get that from? Hang on, how do you know it was me?”
Jungwoo sucked in a breath through his teeth. “So it was you! I knew it! You know, you really are a scary woman,” he grumbled. “Who ever would have thought an evil spirit lurked behind such a kind face?”
“So that’s a no to the coffee?”
“I don’t trust you anymore, so no.”
“Suit yourself,” you shrugged, making your way back to your desk. The attendance reports stared back at you as you logged into the monitor, drawing a sigh out of you. You took a sip of the coffee.
And frowned.
You brought the mug to your mouth again. Like the first sip, the second was also lukewarm. But like the first sip, the second also tasted exactly the same as your usual Peruvian blend. Maybe there really was no difference between all the different coloured capsules, you thought, skimming through page 33 of the file.
That thing about realisation never being on time? Still true.
On the subway ride home, gripping the handle with all your might while sandwiched between two middle-aged men in stuffy suits, it dawned on you.
Jaehyun had given you his coffee instead.
“Thanks everyone for dialling in today. We’ll chat soon.”
The screen reverted back to its default background as the call ended, and you let out a sound somewhere in between a groan and a whimper. Junmyeon did not look to be faring any better, head in his hands while his elbows rested on the meeting room table.
“Can somebody please tell Jackson and the rest of the Marketing heads that Summer Fridays doesn’t mean they can just take Fridays completely off?” he groaned, the sounds escaping through the gaps in his fingers. “Our absenteeism looks like it’s at an all time high. Nayeon, you’re friendly with him, aren’t you?”
The girl pressed at her temples. “I mean, we were in the same advertising and PR club back in university, if that counts for anything. But yeah, I’ll schedule some time with him and go over it.”
“Great, thank you,” Junmyeon sighed, throwing his head back. “Alright, I’ll send around a debrief email later this afternoon. Thanks everyone for your time.”
You didn’t have to be told twice. A second later and you were out of the eighth floor Marketing meeting room, already on your way to the Nespresso machine downstairs. Another coffee at 4pm was slightly pushing it, but you needed a pick-me-up urgently to wash away the gruelling two hours spent going through company policy with Marketing.
The buzz of your phone was a momentary distraction from your mission.
It was a message from Jaehyun. Something silly in response to a text you had sent earlier in the day.
jaehyun [04:07 pm]: in dire need of a fake mango right now jaehyun [04:07 pm]: mmm fake mango milkshake
The smile that crept up onto your face was almost like a reflex in the way it couldn’t be helped.
Now that you were acquainted again, it was like you saw him everywhere. How you had managed to completely avoid each other for the last half a year or so was a fascinating mystery. Some mornings you’d run into him in the building lobby. He’d hold the elevator doors open for you, and you’d exchange pleasantries on the ride up to the fifth floor, where you’d get off and bid him goodbye, or see you later. And see him later you did. Whether it was at the seventh floor coffee machine, or in line at the cafeteria on twelve, the sight of his face had become a nice interruption to the hours spent at a monitor, or in a call like the one you had just escaped.
He would come down to the fifth floor sometimes, stopping by Joy’s desk or yours to say hello and have a chat if you weren’t busy. You found yourself wishing he would spend less time with Joy than he did with you — not because you wanted to see him more (because that was absolutely not the reason at all), but because he was steadily gaining a lead over you in the Joy friendship competition. The three of you had spent a few lunch breaks at the cafeteria together, granted that your schedules matched, with an odd appearance from Jungwoo every now and again.
You saw more of Johnny (loud) and Mark (louder), Jaehyun’s friends from Digital who you’d normally hear before you’d see them. Johnny was his “beloved coffee mate” (Jaehyun’s exact words) and possibly the only other person in the building who cared about the green Peruvian capsules as much as you did. Mark was… Mark, for lack of a better description. There was nobody the boy couldn’t strike a conversation with. If he really needed to, you suspected he could probably get along with a wet paper towel.
You had been offered an invitation to join the three of them for one of their weekly lunches outside the company building. Johnny was more than happy to let you know he was somewhat of an expert at finding the hottest eats in the area, having put half his floor onto the cold noodle place he had sought out at the start of the month. And laugh as you had when he proudly told you about it, Johnny’s influence was no joke. News of the restaurant had somehow trickled its way down to HR, with Junmyeon just the other day asking around the team if anyone had tried the place before.
Perhaps you’d join them next week. It was always nice to be ahead of the trend.
You arrived at the seventh floor kitchen and sighed. The rack was out of green capsules again. Although, maybe that was to be expected. It was nearing the end of the day, and the gold capsules were finished too. So much for a 4pm pick-me-up, you thought, though it might have been for the better — too much caffeine in one day always made you a bit antsy and had your resting heart rate up in the high 80s.
With empty hands and a pout on your lips, you made your way back to the fifth floor.
Joy’s eyes were glued to her screen when you walked past her. “Jaehyun stopped by while you were in that Marketing call,” she said without looking at you, squinting at a spreadsheet.
“Did he?” you replied, trying your best at nonchalance despite the little flip of your stomach.
“Are you talking about her handsome friend from Digital?” Jungwoo peered around the table with a playful grin on his face.
You were back on good terms now, thanks to your promise to pay for his lunch from the cafeteria for a whole week to make up for the coffee incident. The look in his eyes right now had you thinking life was better that week where he had been afraid of you.
“Yeah, that’s the one,” Joy said distractedly in between clicks of her keyboard. “Jisung, can you just double check these numbers for me? I’m in the second tab of the Excel file.”
The intern was quick to comply. You had a feeling she was his favourite senior.
“Anyways, I think he left you something.”
You made your way over to your desk, ignoring Jungwoo’s oohs and ahs. Sure enough, there was something sitting next to your diary and the three empty glasses you hadn’t had the chance to rinse out yet.
It was a coffee capsule. Specifically, it was a green coffee capsule.
There was a sticky note stuck to the back of it, which you turned around to read. His handwriting was still identical to that of the silly little notes he used to leave in the margins of your home economics workbook.
saved this last one from johnny’s clutches. enjoy ^.^
Despite the jitters from the end-of-day caffeine fix, you smiled the whole way home.
“I’ve found a way you can make it up to me.”
You pulled the phone away from your ear to check the screen. 9:34 am. The Saturday morning still had you in its clutches, and it took a few seconds to process the sounds you were hearing.
“Who is this?” you croaked, sleep lacing your voice.
“It’s Jaehyun.”
You sat up a little straighter against the pillows. “Jaehyun?” you echoed.
“Yes, it’s me. Do you not check the caller ID before you answer?”
You grumbled something about it being too early on the weekend to have your head screwed on properly, to which he laughed, a vivid sound even through the phone.
“Do you have plans later today?”
You hesitated. Technically, no, unless a hot date with Netflix and whatever leftover snacks you could find in your pantry counted as plans. You were due for a grocery trip soon. The three eggs and single sprig of spring onion in your fridge would not last for long. Cooking had never been something you enjoyed, especially not after a full work day, and yet living alone required so much of it. You didn’t want to make up a non-existent dinner reservation, partly because you knew he’d be able to tell the untruth just by listening to your voice, and partly because something unpleasant niggled at your insides at the thought of lying just to avoid him.
“Why, what’s up?” you asked instead.
“Well, you know that jazz festival?” You gave an affirmative hum. “I have tickets for today. Mark and I were supposed to go together, but he just called me saying he can’t make it. Something about a leak in his apartment from all the rain. So…”
You stifled a yawn. “So?” Your brain was still trying to catch up with the land of the awake and living.
“Come with me?”
The words took a while and a few blinks to register. When they did, your first instinct was to say no. Jaehyun was fine in small doses. A quick chat over coffee, sporadic texts throughout the day, conversation within the safety of a group setting — these were all fine. Manageable. Nice, even. But Jaehyun in the flesh, outside of the office, with nobody else around to buffer the strange sort of tension that seemed to always thrum between the two of you — that was an entirely different ball game altogether. Sometimes, a mere run-in was enough to have your heart going a little faster than usual, nerves lighting up at the unexpected sight of his face.
“I am not above begging. Please don’t make me go to this thing by myself.”
And yet, there was a flicker of something pleasant and sweet, something akin to excitement that curbed the nervous flutter in your gut. You were fifteen again, waiting outside the movie theatre, a little too giddy at the thought of spending time with the boy whose sweet smile had become the cause of your stomach somersaults. And that was before you had even admitted to yourself that you liked him, as more than a friend.
“What time is it?” you found yourself asking.
So maybe you were seriously considering it. You had been meaning to put that new film camera to use. The thing had been collecting dust in one of your drawers ever since you bought it on a whim one night scrolling through Pinterest. Somehow, the rows of tables and monitors in the office didn’t seem like the most interesting camera subjects compared to the scenes of concerts and beach bonfires that had driven your impulsive purchase.
“Well, the doors open at 11, but the first performer is at 12. And Lauv’s set isn’t until later in the evening.”
“Lauv is performing?” Your voice had gone up almost an octave, but you couldn’t care enough to be embarrassed. This was a crucial piece of information. Now you had to be there.
He laughed. “So is that a yes?”
“Yes. Yes, it’s a yes.” The covers were flipped off your legs in an instant.
It wasn’t that Jaehyun looked bad in slacks and a dress shirt. That was not the case at all. But you had grown used to them on him over the last few weeks, and the sight of his long legs in a pair of well-fitting trousers no longer caused a spike in your heart rate.
Jaehyun in casual clothes outside the office was uncharted territory.
The midday sun was strong outside the subway station. Clad in a black graphic tee over a pair of baggy green cargos, Jaehyun stood idly at the entrance, face hidden by the brown baseball cap on his head and eyes trained on his phone. How someone could look so gorgeous in something so ordinary was a secret only he knew the truth of. He caught sight of you from across the road, waiting for the pedestrian light, and raised his hand in a wave.
“It’s different seeing you out of your work clothes,” he said.
“Different good or different bad?”
A soft smile grazed his lips. “Just different. You look younger.”
“So do you,” you replied.
You look like the boy I was in love with all those years ago.
“Did you taxi?”
“No, I took the bus. There’s one that goes straight from my building. I didn’t know you lived around here,” you mused to yourself.
“My place is really close.” He pointed somewhere behind him. “Five minutes that way, tops. You should come over sometime.”
A slight pause. Jaehyun’s eyes flitted down to the pavement. You weren’t sure if the heat in your cheeks was from the sun or something else entirely.
“Anyway,” he cleared his throat, “we should probably go. It takes 40 minutes to get there, so if we leave now we should be able to catch the 1pm.”
The subway on the weekend was nowhere near as awful as it usually was during the weekday rush hours, but packed nonetheless. You definitely preferred being stuck in a carriage full of bright-eyed and chattering teenagers than the usual crowd of solemn-faced office workers. When a seat finally freed up, Jaehyun was quick to offer it to you, manoeuvring himself so that he could stand in front of you as you sat down. Toe to toe, the tips of his shoes grazed yours, and you were suddenly reminded of study periods at the library. The two of you could never agree on who first started the game of footsie under the desk.
“See those girls over there?” you asked quietly, nodding towards a group of likely high schoolers down the other end of the carriage. Jaehyun turned his head to follow your gaze, catching sight of the girls who immediately erupted in whispers and giggles upon making eye contact with him. “They’ve been staring at you for the last two stops.”
He was quick to turn back towards you, nose scrunching and slightly embarrassed. “Kids these days are so weird,” he said with a soft groan. “Why are they doing that?”
“You know they’re only staring because you’re handsome.”
Despite the pinkness of his ears, he was smiling wide. “You think I’m handsome?”
You blinked up at him. “I didn’t say that.” Did I? “I meant they probably think you’re handsome. Which is why they’re staring. You know. It’s nice to look at good-looking people.”
The rushed explanations did nothing to shake the feeling that you had slipped-up somehow, and he had caught it. Jaehyun’s dimples only deepened at your backtracking.
“You know what I mean,” you finally huffed, biting back a smile at the deep sound of his responding laugh. “Whatever. I think this is our stop.”
The festival couldn’t have picked a better day to be held. The skies were clear and blue, and the air carried a light breeze that provided a welcome relief from the heavy stickiness of midsummer. It was a nice change from the sporadic rainstorms that had plagued the city over the last two weeks or so. Mark’s leaking apartment was proof of the temperamental weather. If you had one bone to pick, the sun was a tad strong, but that was to be expected. You had come prepared, tugging the bucket hat down further to cover your face.
Alaina Castillo’s set was well underway by the time you and Jaehyun made your way into the venue grounds. A decent amount of people had already arrived, trickling in to fill up the gated area in front of the main stage. The two of you filed in with the rest, finding a place towards the back of the growing crowd where there was ample room to breathe without inhaling someone else’s breath.
You had never been one for being stuck in a swarm of people. A harsh reminder of why that was the case appeared when, out of nowhere, a stranger’s elbow dug into your arm, knocking you sideways in their determined path towards the barricade.
The steadying hand around your shoulder was instantaneous.
“Are you okay?” Jaehyun asked, and you mumbled something affirmative in reply, trying not to dwell too much on the warmth of his skin on your bare arm. His eyes followed the stranger who was still pushing on through the crowd in front. “People really need to watch where they’re going,” he muttered, brows drawn together in a frown.
The rest of the afternoon proceeded more smoothly. It was a little unsettling how normal and nice everything felt. Jaehyun kept close to you for the sets that followed, the distance between the two of you gradually shrinking as the crowd grew in size. The occasional brush of your forearms as you moved to the music was no longer something to jump at like you had the first time it had happened. You managed to snap a few pictures on your almost-new film camera, mostly of the artist performing, but there was one of you in there somewhere amidst the stage shots, taken by an insistent and smiley Jaehyun during one of the set breaks.
“So this is why you wanted someone to come with you,” you said, sliding onto the bench and passing him one of the burgers from the food truck.
“It’s so much more efficient when you can line up for two things at once. If I was by myself, I’d either wait for the beer and let my burger get soggy, or wait for the burger and let my beer get warm and flat. This way the food is fresh, and our drinks are ice cold out of the fridge.”
You cracked a smile. “And here I thought you called me because you enjoyed my company.”
“I do enjoy your company,” he said without missing a beat. “The other stuff is just an added plus.”
You took a sip of the cold beer, hoping it would stave off the quick flush of your cheeks. Jaehyun said things so easily. Too easily. It was harder and harder to adhere to that invisible boundary you had been so adamant on protecting.
Why were you so reluctant to let him back in? Why all the walls? He made it too easy for thoughts like that to creep in and loiter in the back of your mind.
Evening had begun to settle, the brightness of the midday sky fading away to a twinkling twilight blue over your heads. The music was quieter at the picnic tables by the tents, where festival-goers sought respite from the main stage crowds with a cold beverage and something greasy. Between mouthfuls of an early makeshift dinner, you and Jaehyun sat in your own bubble, comfortably falling into conversation about the performances throughout the day, or whatever else happened to be on your minds.
“Your mouth opens so wide,” you said, watching as he all but inhaled half the burger in one go. His nose scrunched up as he tried to take the massive bite, and the sight of it was such a far cry from his usual cool guy image that you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to snap a picture of it. The click of the shutter had him looking up at you mid-chew with a dismayed expression.
“That’s not fair. You attacked when I wasn’t ready!”
“I’d hardly call that an attack,” you said, not without a smile. “I was just getting a candid.”
He wiped his fingers on the napkin. “Okay, my turn then,” he said, gesturing for you to hand the camera over. You obliged, letting him point the lens at you and fiddle with the knobs along the top. His slender fingers navigated the controls with a practised ease.
“Relax,” he added softly, noticing your fidgeting. Twenty-something years, and you had made little progress in mastering the art of posing for photos. “Pretend the camera’s not here, and it’s just you and me.”
Right. Like that was supposed to make you loosen up.
“I actually used to be really into photography. Got pretty good at it too,” he said.
“Really? I don’t remember that.”
“Picked it up in uni,” he explained. “Had all this free time on my hands and didn’t know what to do with it. Besides drinking.” A pause. “Honestly, first year second semester was pretty rough after… you know.”
The last part caught you somewhat off-guard. After that fateful April night, you had always assumed Jaehyun was off living his best life, blowing through society events with the new friends he had made, maybe even letting a few of them warm his bed now that you weren’t around. It wouldn’t have been the biggest surprise. Even at nineteen, Jaehyun’s good looks were uncontested. His sweet and attentive personality was the cherry on top of an already delectable cake. Whatever he got up to when the sun set, you were none the wiser, having completely wiped his existence from your phone by the time your first semester exam period rolled around.
Though you didn’t go as far as to block his number, he never reached out, and so Jeong Jaehyun became a relic of the past, embracing his newfound freedom now that he had shed himself of you, his unwanted baggage.
Or so you thought.
“But yeah,” he continued, “I started getting into photography. Burnt a hole in my wallet trying out a bunch of different cameras,” he said with a chuckle. “I liked film the most though, I think. It’s the only one I still use now.”
“What do you like about it?”
He took a moment, pausing in thought. “The colours, mostly. How it’s a bit muted, it has that vintage feeling.” You hummed in agreement. “Selfies on a film camera are fun as well.”
“You must really like looking at yourself,” you teased, enjoying the sight of his ears flushing with colour from where they poked out above the camera.
“Not like that,” he said in reply to the raise of your eyebrows. “It’s more like… when you take a selfie on film, you can’t see yourself, right? Whether the focus is focusing, or if the angle is right.
“Or if your whole face is actually in the shot, not just your right eye.”
“Exactly. But then taking the picture anyway. That’s what I like.” He pulled away from the camera to flash you a small smile. “Isn’t it funny, the way we try so hard to capture moments of time?”
Jaehyun’s attention returned to the viewfinder, leaving you to quietly dwell on his words. How else could one keep a piece of time stored away if not through photos? And yet, photography would never be able to capture the entirety of a moment the way a memory could. The sound of the band’s bass guitar from the side stage in the adjacent garden. The smell of summer carried by the evening breeze as it ruffled through his hair.
The warm feeling in your chest as you sat across from him at this wooden picnic bench, surrounded by people, sharing wistful conversation and a basket of fries.
The feeling of coming home.
The shutter clicked.
“Got it. That last one is going to turn out so nice.” Jaehyun smiled triumphantly, cheeks dimpling. “If you make this your profile picture you have to add the ‘photo by’. I need my credits.”
You blinked away the precarious thoughts. “Alright, mister photographer man, give it back now. Don’t use up all my film before Lauv.”
He handed the camera back to you, looking very pleased with himself. The light from the nearby tents cast a dusky glow over his face. Jaehyun from Digital was sharp and polished. The Jaehyun before you now, with his hair dishevelled from taking off the cap earlier, was softer, more open, and more subtle in the way he had slipped under your defences and picked the locks chained around your heart.
The question now was whether you’d let him in further than you already had.
He tugged at his collar. “God, it’s still muggy at night, isn’t it?”
“You stay here, I’ll get us some more beers,” you said, already standing up.
If anything, you were grateful for the errand, a welcome distraction from the tumultuous battle between your heart and your head that always forged on at any thought of him. The line for the bar was no shorter than it had been half an hour ago, to nobody’s surprise (this was a festival in Seoul, of course the queues would be severe) and it was a while before the two cold plastic cups were in your hands.
The short time away from him had given you the space to steer your mindset back onto the charted platonic course. A little voice in the back of your mind objected, and was making a damn convincing argument about why you should be more inclined to go beyond plain friendship with Jaehyun, but you chose to ignore it, suppressing the nagging with a deep breath and a smile that you hoped looked less conflicted than how you felt. Beers in hand, you carefully made your way back to the picnic table — only to be met with a rather interesting sight.
Jaehyun was still where you had left him, thankfully. But the two girls that now stood around him were a new addition.
“Hey,” you greeted, tapping him on the shoulder to pass him one of the beers. The taller girl visibly deflated when he flashed you a grateful smile, taking the plastic cup from your hand. The shorter one, however, ran her eyes up and down your figure with an almost calculating gaze.
“Is this your friend?” the shorter one asked, question directed at Jaehyun.
“Uh, yeah, um—hi,” you answered very eloquently, introducing yourself. You tossed a glance between Jaehyun and the two girls. “Do you um—are you guys friends?”
“Well, no, not really. Minjeong and Jimin just came—”
“We were actually going to ask if you guys wanted to join us up closer to the main stage?” the shorter one (Minjeong perhaps?) asked, flashing a sweet smile you suspected was more for Jaehyun’s benefit than yours. “We have a blanket and a few chairs set up, so you can sit and watch the closing set. It’s much more comfortable than standing inside the barricade.”
“Jaehyun looked a little lonely by himself,” the taller one added.
Lonely because you left him for ten minutes to go get some cold drinks? These girls were unbelievable.
“What do you say? Want to join us?”
Maybe you should’ve taken the group of highschoolers on the subway earlier more seriously as a forewarning. Not that you had any say in what Jaehyun could and could not do — he was his own person, and the closest thing you had to a claim on him had disintegrated years ago. If he wanted to go hang out with pretty strangers, he could go and do exactly that, and you didn’t have to follow him either. The invitation had clearly been meant for him more than it had been for you.
So what if you had been looking forward to enjoying the last set together? You were a big girl. You could brave the main stage crowds by yourself if you had to.
Jaehyun glanced at you, searching your eyes while you tried your best to keep your face neutral and devoid of the uneasy thoughts bubbling away beneath your skin. He was his own person. He could make his own choices.
After a second or two, he seemed to find what he was looking for, and turned back to the two expectant girls with a polite smile. “We’ll take our chances with the pit,” he answered. “But thank you for the offer. That’s kind of you guys.”
The two girls made their exit shortly afterwards, but not without a final look at him, and a decidedly less enthusiastic one at you. It was quiet for a few moments, the two of you sipping on your beers without a word, waiting for the other to speak.
“You could have gone with them if you wanted to,” you finally mumbled, eyes fixed on the contents of your cup.
To your surprise, Jaehyun let out a soft chuckle. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m pretty sure Minjeong had an engagement ring on her finger.”
“Oh, what?”
You definitely had not noticed, too occupied by the saccharine looks she was throwing his way.
“Yeah. It was a pretty big diamond too. I think she must have forgotten to take it off today.”
You turned to look at him then. Jaehyun already had his eyes on you, sporting a lazy grin. “Come on, you can’t think I’m the type to mess around with married women?”
“That’s not what I—I didn’t know—”
“Don’t worry,” he interjected. “You’re still cute when you’re jealous.”
The quick heat rising to your face dispelled any of the remaining nonchalance in your expression. “I wasn’t—I’m not jealous,” you spluttered. “I was just worried—I mean, not worried,” you paused, sighing. “I thought you’d leave me.”
His eyes sought out yours, keeping them captive once they grabbed a hold.
“I wouldn’t leave you.”
The teasing brevity to his voice had disappeared. Somehow, you had the feeling he wasn’t simply talking about the jazz festival. The sincerity in his gaze made it hard to look away, but you had to, in the name of self preservation. Too long staring into those brown eyes was an unnecessary test of the upper limits of your heart rate.
“Maybe she came with her husband. He could be up there on that picnic mat, waiting for her.”
He laughed, throwing his head back. “Trust me, if her husband was here, she would not have been looking at me like that.”
To their credit though, finding a spot to watch the main stage proved to be rather difficult now that everyone had arrived to catch the final act. For a moment you considered leaving the pit to take the two girls up on their offer. But with Jaehyun by your side, you were able to navigate the crowds with a bit more peace of mind, his presence a solid and comforting anchor within the sea of people. A few rogue pushes here and there had you stumbling — and perhaps the two beers on a rather empty stomach were coming on faster than you had expected — but he was there, steadying you with a gentle hand around your arm, or the light press of his firm chest against your back.
And maybe you leaned into him for longer than necessary to regain your balance, but was that really a crime? To enjoy the touch of a friend? Was it a crime for warmth to pool in the pit of your stomach at the sight of him swaying along to Lauv’s Enemies?
No, the little voice in your head denied forcefully. Jaehyun grooving to the music had always been one of your weaknesses.
As the closing chords of Paris in the Rain sounded out across the venue, you pulled out your film camera.
“Walking down an empty street.”
A gentle nudge of Jaehyun’s shoulder had him turning towards you, nose scrunched in a happy half-laugh from watching the performance. You moved to face the back of the crowd and raised the camera high, pointing it towards the two of you.
Was the stage in the shot? Was Lauv?
Were you?
“Puddles underneath our feet.”
Call it courage, or liquid courage, or just plain recklessness on your part. Rising up on your tiptoes, you pressed your cheek to his, and clicked the shutter button.
The final chord of the song struck, softly, like an afterthought, and the crowd burst into appreciative hoots and applause, marking the end of the performance.
You were beaming as you turned back towards him. “Do you think I got that one?”
Jaehyun simply stared at you, lips parted and turned up slightly at the corners. He looked more caught off-guard than he had when you had told him you thought all the Cigarettes After Sex songs sounded the same. You felt the glowing smile on your face slip, little by little, as you let his eyes roam your features, gaze indecipherable. They flitted to your lips, and for a second you were sure you stopped breathing.
Just do it! Just fucking do it! screamed that little voice in the back of your mind.
And perhaps you would’ve done it too, whatever it was, if it weren’t for the shove from behind that sent you almost face-planting into his chest.
“What the hell?” you yelped, whipping your head around.
What was with the people here today? You never thought jazz lovers could be so aggressive and insensitive to others’ personal space. Trying to find the perpetrator was a futile task, since the crowd had started to disperse following the end of the performance, moving in all directions.
Jaehyun looked over you with concern, the earlier expression on his face now gone.
“Come on,” he finally said, fingers gently circling around your wrist. “Let’s get out of here before we get trampled by the crowd.”
Overhead, the blue-black sky that had been so cooperative for the whole day emitted a low rumble, as if to emphasise Jaehyun’s words. Sure enough, by the time the two of you arrived at the station, it had started to sprinkle. Perhaps the clouds had been holding back the rain until the very end of the festival. How considerate of them, you thought.
The ride back into the city felt shorter than the one to the venue, though it couldn’t have been. Saturday nights were even busier than the weekday rush hour, with people young and old out and about, ready to tame the weekend with sheer determination and a bottle of soju in the stomach. This time, there were no free seats in your carriage, but you didn’t mind. Standing with Jaehyun, your heads pressed together to go through the videos in his camera roll, made the time pass faster. There was something to his photos, you decided. Something in the angle, or the light, or the composition, that made them look nicer than the ones on your phone. Maybe you ought to take a photography course too.
The clouds may have been considerate enough for the festival to hold off dumping their contents during the day, but they certainly were not for the two of you tonight. Standing under cover at the subway station exit, you watched as the torrential deluge only seemed to worsen. Thunder cracked angrily through the air. It wasn’t July without the threat of flash flooding.
“Any drivers around?” Jaehyun asked.
You gave a sad shake of your head. “Nobody’s picking up my request. Must be because of the rain,” you muttered. Overhead, the sky split open with a strike of lightning, startling you, and you jumped back a bit, further into the covered area of the exit.
“How about the bus?”
“I think I just missed one,” you answered, checking the timetable on your phone. “It says the next isn’t for another twenty minutes. But with the rain, it might be delayed even longer.”
You flicked through the taxi app, then the bus timetable app, and then finally back to the weather app, which you always seemed to forget to check on days like this. Three consecutive 100% signs stared back at you, and you let out a sigh. The sky would not be clearing up anytime soon.
“My apartment is only two streets down, if you want somewhere to wait out the rain,” he said.
You looked up at him. The smile on his face was guileless, but at the same time, there was something guarded about it, like he was expecting your rejection. Perhaps you had studied his face for too long, because then he was shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and averting his eyes to the ground.
“Or you don’t have to, we could just—”
“Okay,” you said.
His head shot back up. “Okay?”
You shrugged, a smile finding its way to your lips. “I’d rather not be soaking wet on the bus.”
“Okay,” he repeated, corners of his mouth turning upwards to mirror yours. “To my place, then.”
The usual five minute walk to Jaehyun’s apartment from the subway station turned into a two-and-a-half minute mad dash under the downpour. Despite your attempts at keeping to storefront shelters and ducking under the cover of big trees, the short trip had ended up with the both of you drenched to the bone, teeth chattering as you dripped rainwater all over his lobby.
You said a silent apology to the building cleaners.
It was a relief to be dry again. Jaehyun’s sweats swamped you, the French terry fabric pooling around your feet as you sat on the couch in his living room. The top was no better, reaching almost to your knees, with the sleeves completely covering your fingertips. His clothes weren’t always this big on you. At least he still used the same pine-scented laundry detergent.
The sound of the running shower blended smoothly with the raindrops pelting violently against the balcony window. You wrung your hands, unsure of what to do while you waited for him to come out of the bathroom. It was easy to feel out of place in a home foreign to you. The sleek furniture and minimalist colour palette of the apartment looked nothing like Jaehyun’s childhood bedroom.
Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to come to his place. While you were pretty sure he hadn’t invited you up with any ulterior motives in mind, there was still something ambiguous about being in your ex-boyfriend’s home and wearing his clothes. And only his clothes.
You would have liked to keep your undergarments on, but they had also been soaked through. Going bare in these too-big sweats had seemed the less questionable option, compared to sitting with a wet patch around your butt and crotch. Heat flooded your face as you thought about your underwear and bra hanging on the heated towel rack in the bathroom.
Whatever. It wasn’t like they were things he’d never seen before. And as for his clothes, of course you’d wash them before giving them back to him.
It was then that you decided that you had enough of sitting around in a puddle of fabric and your own thoughts. Jaehyun’s living room wasn’t all that big, even if it felt roomier than your own, with enough space to fit a decently-sized couch and small coffee table. The tv on the far wall sat atop a rather large entertainment unit that, upon further inspection, also housed a record player and an impressive collection of vinyls.
You padded over, eyes flicking through the various titles printed on the covers. One of them had been taken out from the shelf and sat splayed on top of the cabinet. Maybe he had meant to play it, or just forgotten to put it away. Slowly, you let a finger trace around the edge of the jacket and over the black lettering of the title. You’d recognise that white album cover anywhere.
Only you knew how much effort it had taken to source the thing, scouring auction sites and dodgy online stores until you finally bit the bullet and ordered it from a reasonable-looking seller with a 4.7 star rating. But it had all been worth it. The unadulterated joy on Jaehyun’s face as he undid the wrapping paper to reveal Frank Ocean’s Blonde was not something you could easily forget. Later, you found out that it had probably been a bootleg, since the official Blonde vinyls were a limited release, but he had hardly batted an eye when you broke the news.
“Still my favourite birthday present that anyone’s gotten me,” Jaehyun said.
Dressed in a plain white tee and a pair of grey sweatpants, he leant against the bathroom door, surveying you with an easy smile. You must not have heard the shower turn off, the noise drowned out by the storm raging outside. His hair, still damp from the shower, hung over his eyes, and you watched as he brushed it back with his right hand, arm flexing with the movement.
The sudden flare in your lower belly was something you’d rather not feel, alone in these four walls with him, with nobody else around to witness or put a stop to whatever might follow. You’d like to think self control was something you had a firm grip on, but it seemed Jaehyun was made to put you to the test.
“Actually think it might be my favourite present ever,” he added, pushing off the door frame. He reached you in a few strides, maintaining a polite distance between your bodies.
“I didn’t even realise you still had this,” you murmured, letting him take the record from your hands. You tried not to flinch at the brush of his fingers against yours. “You didn’t even have one of these back then,” you said, lightly tapping the case of the record player.
“I changed my mind, actually. The turntable is my favourite present.”
An unfamiliar twinge of dread zipped through you. “Who gave it to you?”
Could it be an ex-lover’s gift sitting on display in his living room? That did not sit nicely in your stomach.
“Myself.”
He was holding back a laugh, eyes squeezed into crescent moons and too busy appreciating his own joke to catch the quick roll of your eyes. Instantly, your chest felt a little lighter, and the dread vanished as quickly as it had come on.
“Here, let me put it on,” he said, shuffling over towards you to lift up the case on the record player. With gentle fingers and a delicateness you didn’t see often, he unsleeved the record and carefully placed it on the turntable. A few fiddles with the side knobs and a precise adjustment of the needle arm later, the opening bars of Frank Ocean’s Pink and White filled the air of his living room.
For a minute, there were no words exchanged, the two of you simply content to enjoy the music as it filtered through the speakers. There was a quiet smile on Jaehyun’s face. You wondered if he, like you, was thinking of the last time you had listened to this album together.
The image of the two of you, sprawled out on his bed, sharing a pair of wired earphones, was hard to shake. It had been early evening, or nearly twilight. Sometime before sunset. The reflection on the ceiling of his childhood bedroom had changed along with the sky, until the only light left in the room was the dim blue glow from the laptop on his desk. At his mother’s call for dinner, he had gently shaken you awake, fingers light on your shoulder and against your cheek.
Jaehyun was undoubtedly handsome in the light. But there was something about dusk and the softness of the shadows on his face that made him all the more compelling. You usually weren’t one to initiate, so the kiss you pressed to his mouth in the barely-lit room had surprised you both.
Even now, the thought strangely sent a flood of heat to your cheeks.
“Sorry, did you want something to eat? I haven’t been a very good host.”
The grumble of your stomach answered before you could. You bit back an embarrassed smile, but Jaehyun was not so frugal with his amusement, letting out a short chuckle. Your feet followed him as he made his way to the kitchen. Perched on the marble countertop, you watched as he rummaged through the fridge.
“I have eggs, yesterday’s leftovers, and a shit ton of beer cans,” he announced.
You exchanged a glance.
“Let’s do ramen, actually. That sounds better.” He bent down to dig through the pantry, pulling out two red packets, before moving back to the fridge and getting two eggs. “I can crack these in too, and—why are you looking at me like that?”
It was your turn to laugh, the wide grin on your face a contrast to the cautious smile on his.
“Are we having ramen?”
His brow creased a little. “I thought you liked ramen?” The innocent tilt of his head made him all the more endearing to look at.
“I do, but… did you really invite me back to your place… to have ramen?”
It took a few seconds for the ball to drop. You held back giggles as his ears flushed hotly, as they always seemed to do on the occasions you decided to indulge yourself and tease him.
“Come on, that’s not—you’re doing it on purpose,” he said, bottom lip jutting out with the suggestion of a pout. Despite his grumbles, the shape of his mouth slowly settled into a defeated smile at your visible glee of having flustered him.
Jaehyun, soft-spoken and easy-going, was not the type to be easily ruffled. You excelled and enjoyed the challenge of it more than most.
“No,” he said once your laughter had somewhat subsided, voice low and velvety. “But I wouldn’t be opposed.”
And suddenly it wasn’t so funny anymore.
The silence that followed was a loud one. It was hard to ignore the way your mouth dried up at his words. Something warm and tingly spread from your stomach all the way down to your toes as you stood there under his level gaze, eyes drawn to his like magnets. He had to know. The effect his words had on you were surely plastered all over your face, obvious in the tight grip of your fingers against the countertop and the shortening of your breaths.
Jaehyun leaned in a little closer and you felt the inhale stick in the back of your throat. Then he cracked a crooked smile, pretty teeth all on display.
“Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it.”
He moved away then, busying himself with pouring water into a pot and bringing it to a boil while you tried to blink yourself out of the daze. “Ramen okay?” he asked over his shoulder.
You cleared your dry throat, somehow finding your voice again. “Ramen is fine. Thank you,” you added after a beat. You took a deep breath, waiting for the rush of blood to drain from your face.
Something sour settled in your chest — something akin to disappointment, though surely it couldn’t be. Disappointed that what? Jaehyun wasn’t actually sexually attracted to you? When you were obviously still attracted to him, despite all your attempts at convincing yourself you weren’t?
You scoffed to yourself. As if.
A quick shake of your head was almost enough to clear your mind, save for the remnants of that sour feeling that lingered. You asked if there was anything you could do to help, not wanting to simply sit around on your thumbs and wait to be fed. He had insisted you do exactly that, warning you there was only enough space in the kitchen for one, and assuring that there was nothing he needed from you besides patience and faith in his cooking.
Patience you could give him. Faith was a little harder to muster, given your memories of the kitchen disaster from when he had tried to make okonomiyaki.
The questionable, half-burnt half-uncooked taste was one thing. You finding random pieces of cabbage on the tiled floor for days afterwards was another thing entirely.
However, it seemed Jaehyun had improved from his old ways. The steaming pot he brought over to the coffee table not only smelled delicious, but looked the part too. You helped carry over the small bowls and chopsticks, along with two cans of beer, despite his requests for you to just sit and be ready to eat.
You took the first bite, blowing on the noodles to cool them down before slurping them into your mouth. All the while, he watched you, an expectant expression painting his face.
“Wow. You’ve grown up, Jeong Jaehyun. Who would’ve guessed you’d become such a whiz in the kitchen?”
He smiled, a bashful one at your compliment. “Being able to cook ramen is nothing impressive,” he said, digging in with his own chopsticks.
“There was no way you could have made this for me when we were 17. Look at this egg!” The centre was perfectly soft, not too runny, but not rock hard either. Just the way you liked them.
You took another mouthful. “You’re a changed man,” you said. “Honestly, your place is a lot cleaner than I expected it to be.”
“That’s what living with four other guys will do to you. I had to learn how to clean out of pure survival,” he chuckled.
“Was it really that bad?”
He grimaced. “You should’ve seen my dorm room. Basically a biological hazard.”
“They didn’t let non-students into the building. Your building RA was crazy scary, remember?” Even now you could remember the perpetual scowl of the law major when Jaehyun brought you into the dorm lobby.
“It was probably for the best. You would’ve broken up with me on the spot the second you walked through the door.”
You shared a laugh. Strangely, jokes about your break-up were light-hearted in their landing, the words leaving much less of a prickly uncomfortableness than you had been expecting. Perhaps it was still an event of importance in your life, but that cloudy unpleasantness you had come to associate it with had dissipated. It was a turning point, certainly. But so was graduation, and moving out, and travelling overseas for the first time.
Your feelings about those things weren’t all bad. As you shared the pot of ramen and sipped on your beers, you realised, neither were your feelings about Jaehyun.
“I’m telling you, I was drinking Taeyong under the table. And I do mean that literally. He was passed out and laid across the stools.” He grinned, proud at the memory of beating his senior even five years later. You couldn’t help but grin too, amused by the sincerity of his expression and the way his shoulders set in accomplishment.
“Okay, okay. So now you’re a better drinker, you’ve gotten good at cooking, and you’re cleaner too.”
“And funnier,” he added.
“That one is still up for debate,” you joked, and his eyebrows furrowed together in mock offence. Digs at his sense of humour were not taken lightly.
“Just because you don’t get my high quality gags,” he sighed, shaking his head. “You’re missing out.”
You nodded, making a noise of agreement if only to appease him.
“What about me? How am I different?” you asked, voice curious.
Jaehyun didn’t miss a beat. “Hmm, I think you got older?”
“Come on, I’m being serious!”
His laughter subdued then, surveying you thoughtfully. A quiet smile tugged at his lips when he spoke again.
“You’re more outspoken than you used to be.” He paused, taking a sip from his can while trying to find the right words, all the while keeping his eyes on you. “You prioritise yourself more. And you’re more sure of who you are. You shine brighter, I think.”
Strange, how a person’s gaze could strip you down and make you feel so naked. There was nothing but earnestness in his eyes, plain and absolute, and the intensity of it was almost too much for you to bear. After all your time apart, Jaehyun could still see you, and see through you.
I think you still know me inside out, and that scares me, you wanted to tell him.
Instead, you looked away first, tearing your eyes away from his with considerable effort. The pot of ramen on the coffee table, lukewarm now, was almost finished. The music had also stopped playing a while ago. Neither you or Jaehyun had bothered to get up and flip the vinyl to the other side, too busy eating. All that was left was the rain, and even that had faded to a soft pattering against the glass, following its own rhythm.
Hastily, you stuffed a piece of kimchi into your mouth, for lack of anything better to do. The crunch of it in your mouth was loud, and you fought back a cringe.
“Did your mother make this?” you asked, hoping your attempt at diverting the conversation wasn’t so obvious.
If Jaehyun noticed, he didn’t show it, only nodding in confirmation.
“She dropped some off last month,” he replied. “Remember how you told me her’s was better than your own mother’s?”
You let out a scandalised gasp. “As if I would ever say such a thing! Don’t let my mother ever hear something so blasphemous about her favourite daughter.”
“You’re her only daughter.”
“And you care too much about technicalities. Just because I’m the only one doesn’t mean I can’t still be the favourite.”
The crisp crunch of another piece of kimchi punctuated the end of your sentence. There was certainly something different about Mama Jeong’s recipes. If there was one thing you missed besides Jaehyun himself, it would have been his mother’s cooking. The woman knew her way around a stovetop better than a Michelin chef, at least in your eyes.
You thought of her warm smile, and her even warmer embrace. Jaehyun had inherited many things from her, kindness being the greatest of them. Back then, she had been so sure of your future place in their family, welcoming you into her home as if you were her own daughter. You wondered where she stood on that now.
Still clinging onto that idea, perhaps, or were her sights now set on someone else?
“You’ve got something…” Jaehyun murmured.
He reached across the table, over the pot and the small bowls, the movement quick and almost instinctive. Soft fingers found purchase on your left cheek. His thumb was gentle as it brushed away the stray chilli flake from the corner of your mouth.
Just the lightest touch against your bottom lip. And the warmth of his hand cradling your face.
Then he froze, as if to catch himself, but the damage was already done.
Jaehyun pulled his hand back with a start, an inscrutable expression across his face. He spilled a quick apology that you smiled away, putting on a composed front. At least, you assumed it was an apology. It was hard to hear anything above the buzzing chaos of your mind. The air filled with idle noise as the two of you shuffled in your seats.
“I should um—I should probably get going,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. The meal had long been finished. Your hands were already beginning to gather up the bowls and utensils into a stack for easy carrying.
Jaehyun hummed, something akin to resignation in the noise. “Yeah, uh… I guess so.”
“Let me help you clean up first, and then I’ll be on my way.”
Despite his protests against you assisting with any kind of housework, there you were at the sink, helping him scrub everything nice and clean within the small space of his kitchen. Maybe he was right about there only being enough space for one person behind the counter. The aluminium beer cans went into their designated bins, and you made sure to wipe down the coffee table too.
This time, your half-damp, half-dried clothes found their way into a Byredo shopping bag — Jaehyun would rather die than not smell good — though your shoes still squelched rather uncomfortably when you slipped your bare feet in. By luck, you were able to book a taxi and could pass on the wet walk to the bus stop.
You thanked him again for bringing you along, noting that you probably got more out of the alleged ‘favour’ than he did.
“Trust me, going with you made the whole thing so much better,” he said, both cheeks dimpling in your favourite smile of his. “And let me know if you need to get the film on your camera developed. I know a place.”
The ride home was flavoured by a sudden loneliness. Maybe it was the view of the city at night, or the absence of people out on the rainy streets, that had an empty feeling settle in your chest.
Perhaps you should have delayed leaving his apartment. Perhaps you shouldn’t have left at all, and instead weathered the night away with Jaehyun on the couch, some slasher flick playing on the television while you shook under the blankets and tried not to scream at the jumpscares, like you used to. You never did understand why he liked horror films as much as he did.
Perhaps he’d slot his fingers between your own and give them a reassuring squeeze, and gaze at you with the kind of amused fondness he only ever reserved for you.
Heat flooded your face. As if you were entertaining the thought of spending the night at your ex-boyfriend’s place. And getting butterflies at the thought of holding hands?
How embarrassing.
One thing was for certain. The walls you had put up were cracking, and there seemed to be little hope of patching them up.
“Will you stop messing with that thing?”
Jungwoo clicked his tongue against his teeth, fingers still fiddling with the ribbon on the gift bag.
“It’s not straight,” he grumbled, pulling at the bow.
“You’re so pedantic.”
“It’s called being detail-oriented,” he fired back, leaning against the backseat of the taxi with a sigh.
You raised an eyebrow. “You say that like I’m not.”
“Well,” he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders. His mouth formed the shape of a smirk.
You flicked a glance towards the rearview mirror, checking to see if the driver was paying attention to the two of you in the back. After verifying he was not, you landed a few (soft…ish) punches on Jungwoo’s upper arm, revelling in the shocked little noises he made, along with a few mumbles of ‘that actually hurts’ and ‘crazy woman’.
How nice it was to let your hands fly without the threat of some other fifth floor witness reporting you for physical harassment.
“I’m telling Joy the present is entirely from me,” you warned, turning around to face the front again.
“Right, except the card inside says my name too. So that’s not going to work.”
You reached into the gift bag, pulling out said card before rolling down the window. “Let me just throw this out.”
It was Jungwoo’s turn to deliver a light smack to your wrist. You dropped the envelope back in the bag, not without tossing an eye-roll his way. He knew just as well as you did that there was no real substance behind the threats — banter with Jungwoo was more for amusement than anything else. Deep down, you were quite fond of him, even if your actions tended to say otherwise, and you’d like to wager he quite enjoyed your company too.
You couldn’t wait to get a few shots in him later tonight. Word had it he was a notorious lightweight.
“Hopefully nobody vomits. I’d hate to be cleaning that up in my own house.” He shuddered at the thought.
“Oh, don’t you worry about that,” you smiled sweetly, patting him on the shoulder. “You just focus on sticking to your limit, okay? I heard what happened at last year’s wrap up event.”
He bristled. “Nothing happened! It honestly wasn’t even that bad. I’m getting unfairly slandered,” he sulked. “I think you should stop hanging out with Joy so much.”
“Yeah, alright. Should we just skip her birthday party and turn the car around then?”
“Shut up.”
The taxi pulled up in front of Joy’s apartment complex, a tall modern thing with much bigger windows than your own building. And so much more glass, too. After splitting the taxi fare with Jungwoo, the two of you stood at the entrance, waiting for the intercom to connect.
“Are you sure you pressed the right buttons?” Jungwoo asked, peering over your shoulder.
“Yes, of course. Apartment 814.”
“Maybe you should let me try.”
You let out a sigh. “It’s three numbers, Jungwoo. How is it going to be any different if it’s you pressing them instead of me? Do you think the keypad is going to magically—”
“Hello?”
An unfamiliar male voice crackled through the intercom. “Are you here for Joy?”
“Yes,” you and Jungwoo answered in unison.
“Great, I’ll come down to get you guys now. Will only be a minute!” and then the line disconnected.
You and Jungwoo exchanged a glance. “Is he going to let us in?” you asked.
“He literally said he’d come down to get us,” he answered flatly. “Do you not listen?”
“It was hard to hear him clearly with all the noise in the background,” you grumbled in defence. Hopefully Joy’s walls were thicker than your own, and her neighbours would not lodge a complaint halfway through the night.
The elevator doors slid open to reveal the face of the intercom answerer. It wasn’t detective work to match up the real thing to the pictures Joy would sometimes show you, though he looked taller in real life than he did in the photos from their weekend Jeju trip.
“Sorry about the wait, it was a bit hard to hear the doorbell,” he greeted, ushering you both inside with a warm smile. “I’m Doyoung, by the way.”
You and Jungwoo both introduced yourselves as you stepped into the elevator after him, to which he responded with a hum in recognition, and a knowing grin.
“Are you on door duty for the night?” Jungwoo asked.
Doyoung nodded, pressing on the button for the eighth floor. “It appears I am. She has her hands full with guests to entertain, so,” he trailed off, eyes glazing over for a split second, “you’ll see what I mean when we get up there.”
You had never imagined that a 2-bedroom apartment could fit so many people. Granted, it was nothing compared to the kind of parties you frequented during your university days where cheap spirits and green soju bottles lined the counter, but it was quite a distant cry from the gathering you thought it would be. Judging by the look on Jungwoo’s face, he had not been expecting this either.
There had to be at least forty people. It almost made you wonder why she didn’t just book out a space instead of letting everyone invade her and her boyfriend’s shared home.
Doyoung made his exit rather quickly after letting you in, probably off to tend to one of his many other duties as unofficial host — poor guy was likely in for a very busy night — leaving you and Jungwoo to fend for yourselves in the entryway of the apartment. There was barely any room left in the tiled space for you to put your shoes.
How did Joy even know this many people? was the thought at the forefront of your mind as you helped Jungwoo stack his sneakers next to yours on a rack further down the hallway. Her present was left on a table near the entry piled with gift bags and wrapped boxes that you assumed was the designated drop-off area.
Speaking of the birthday girl, you spotted her mingling in the living room and pointed her out to Jungwoo, though it was no easy feat finding her. The number of people, coupled with the dim ambient lighting, made it a challenge to recognise familiar faces. Joy, champagne glass in hand, was swept away in conversation with one of the most beautiful women you had ever laid eyes on. The gorgeous lady held a matching champagne flute in one hand, while the other was wrapped around the arm of—
“Junmyeon? What the hell is he doing here with that beautiful woman?”
Jungwoo took the words right out of your mouth, a somewhat displeased noise making its way past his lips. You couldn’t help but echo the sentiment.
“Can’t believe this turned into a work function the moment we stepped through the door,” you all but groaned. “And here I thought having you around was bad enough already.”
You expertly dodged the elbow he jabbed into your side.
Joy spotted the two of you then, lingering by the kitchen, and quickly excused herself from the conversation to rush over. The champagne wobbled precariously in her glass as she approached, engulfing the two of you in a sweet-smelling hug.
“My little children! I’m so glad you could make it!” she cried, resting her chin in the space between your shoulder and Jungwoo’s. You exchanged a glance with the boy amidst the chorus of ‘happy birthday’s.
There was a 77% chance she was drunk already.
“Had a little too much fun tonight?” you asked, helping to prop her upright again.
Joy only beamed in response. “All the more fun now that you two are here. My favourite fifth floor prisoners.” She gave your cheek a soft pinch.
“Quick question,” Jungwoo began, “why is our manager in your house?”
“With his arm around a beautiful woman way out of his league?” you added, swatting her fingers away from your face.
“That’s my sister Irene,” she said, like it was common knowledge.
You raised an eyebrow. “Since when did you have a sister?”
“Okay, well not my real sister,” she amended, hurriedly waving off your words. “She was a senior in my department. I was really close with her back in university, so, basically my sister. I think we look pretty alike, honestly.”
“And her relation to Junmyeon is…?”
Joy threw a conspiratorial glance around before leaning in, beckoning the two of you closer. This time, a few drops of the champagne did manage to escape via the side of her glass, narrowly missing Jungwoo’s white socks.
“I set them up. On a date!” she whispered, eyes glinting with pride. Why she chose to whisper when it was already hard enough to hear her above the noise at her normal speaking level was beyond you.
You blinked at her a few times. “You set up a goddess like that… with our manager?”
Joy waved another hand dismissively. “Oh, please. Like Junmyeon’s not handsome too. You only think that because you’re too used to seeing him frown and squint at a monitor.”
You cast a glance in his direction. Maybe she was right. Junmyeon did look somewhat more like a human without his glasses and the semi-permanent lines etched into his forehead. He even looked (dare you say it) quite nice. But maybe it was the poor lighting that made it seem that way.
“Anyways, it’s been about… two months now? I think they look pretty good together,” she mused, following your gaze.
Junmyeon must have said something funny — a rather loose use of the word by your standards — because Irene had her lovely face scrunched up in a laugh, the pitched sound of it ringing out clearly above the noise of the apartment. In her amusement, she even threw a hand out to slap him lightly on the arm, which he appeared very pleased by.
Sure, you laughed at his jokes too, but it was more out of corporate self-preservation than actual amusement.
“He kind of has been in a better mood recently,” Jungwoo said thoughtfully.
Joy grabbed his hand with fervour. “Yes, exactly! See? Thanks to my sacrifice, we can all enjoy a nicer, much more pleasant office environment.”
“I’d hardly call that a sacrifice,” you chuckled. “You take too much pleasure in playing matchmaker.” Joy’s response was nothing more than a guilty smile, followed by her emptying the rest of the glass.
It was then that you heard it — the deep, reverberating laugh that always bordered a little bit on breathlessness. It was slightly unnerving how quickly you could pinpoint the sound of his voice without even seeing him, or knowing that he had entered the room.
You turned around first, eyes drawn to the entry hallway in search of the face to which the laugh belonged. Of course he was going to be here. You knew that. He had said as much two days ago, bidding you farewell across the cafeteria table with a promise to ‘see you on the weekend at Joy’s’.
Lunch with Jaehyun had recently become a rarer occurrence. From what he told you, and the bits of information you gleaned from Joy about Digital, Johnny had pulled Jaehyun onto his team to try and get a firmer grip on the reins not even two weeks ago. Already, the intensity of the new workload was obvious.
You certainly saw him less, much to your disappointment — you could admit that to yourself now.
Jaehyun emerged from the hallway then, midway through another laugh with an arm slung around Doyoung’s shoulders. Funny, how all the other faces were so murky and hard to identify under the dim lighting. And yet, the shape of his dimpled smile was unmistakable to you, as bright as the beacon of a lighthouse on the midnight sea.
Doyoung scanned the room, catching sight of Joy with you and Jungwoo. He gestured at his girlfriend, and Jaehyun obediently turned in your direction, likely wanting to give his greetings to the birthday girl.
Your eyes locked, and your heart gave a woeful little squeeze in your chest.
“I’m just going to do a quick check on the drink inventory,” Doyoung said as they approached, “I’ll be right back. And please take care of my favourite guest.” With a final friendly pat on Jaehyun’s shoulder, he was off, ducking into the kitchen.
“Happy birthday!” Jaehyun beamed, arms circling around Joy in a hug which she enthusiastically returned. He grabbed Jungwoo’s hand, pulling him in for one of those man greetings. (Since when were they close?) Their apparent friendship was an unexpected development.
And then it was your turn. You wondered if it was as easy for others to find solace in a mere gaze as you did with Jaehyun. His eyes did not stray far, wandering around your face, something tender and comforting in his appraisal of your features. A hand came up to brush against your lower back, a gentle and quiet greeting against the excitement of the previous two. His lips pulled into a soft smile as he called your name in greeting.
“You two are ridiculous,” Joy scoffed.
You inhaled sharply. Was it really that easy to tell? The depth of your attachment?
“You planned this, right? I mean seriously, matching outfits?” she asked, gesturing at you and Jaehyun.
You blinked a few times, looking down blankly at yourself. The dark wash denim and white silk that you had picked out yesterday looked back at you familiarly. Then you glanced at Jaehyun, taking in his white t-shirt, half tucked into a pair of jeans that were exactly the same wash as yours.
The coordination was completely unintentional — you had no idea what you were going to wear tonight the last time you had spoken to him — but the look on Joy’s face told you there was no use in trying to convince her of the truth.
(You would’ve argued that the cowl neck of your white silk top elevated your outfit above Jaehyun’s plain white tee, but you digressed.)
“Okay. I’m done with this,” Jungwoo said, throwing his hands up in defeat. “I’m going to do what single people do, and that is to get a goddamn drink.”
“Me too, another bubbly,” Joy chimed, grasping onto Jungwoo’s arm as he turned to leave for the kitchen. “See my success rate? Let me set you up with someone. My hairdresser’s daughter went to Korea University Business School and graduated not too long ago.”
The rest of her appeal to play matchmaker for Jungwoo was swallowed up by the music and chatter of her guests. And then it was just you, and Jaehyun, and the thirty other people filling up the living room.
The two of you shared a glance before dissolving into a few light giggles.
“I do think I pull it off better,” you teased, giving Jaehyun another once-over. He was as handsome as always, the white cotton draped picturesquely across his lean frame while the dark jeans made his mile-long legs look even longer. He could wear a garbage bag and make it look couture.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he said with a crooked smile.
He raised his arm to reveal the denim jacket draped across his arm that you hadn’t noticed before, too busy making sad little googly eyes at him that you hoped other people couldn’t see. The jacket was coloured in the same wash as his jeans, and your own.
You gave a scandalised gasp. “No, a matching set? How am I supposed to beat that?”
“You can’t. You can only admit defeat to the double denim. I out-Justin-Timberlaked you.”
“Justin Timberlake is not a verb.”
He only grinned in response, teeth pearly and eyes sparkling as he took in the slight pout of your mouth.
“Whatever,” you conceded with a wave of your hand, though a smile crept its way onto your face. “You win. Let’s get something to drink.”
Jungwoo and Joy were nowhere to be found when the two of you made your way to the kitchen. What you did find was an impressive selection of bottles atop the marble counter, a selection that easily outdid the ones from your university days in both quality and variety.
At least one thing was the same. Green soju bottles were always a dependable presence.
“Shall we go for your favourite?” Jaehyun asked, holding up what looked to be a bottle of wine. You moved a little closer, peering at the label through his fingers.
“I do enjoy a good red,” you replied, accepting the glass he offered you with a quiet ‘thank you’. You took a small sip — because tonight, you felt no need to gulp down alcohol like a camel to ease your nerves — before adding, “Merlot is far from my favourite though.”
“Really?’ He raised an eyebrow. “I do seem to remember how you pretty much finished a whole bottle by yourself. At dinner, that time at the Italian place.”
You held back a wince at the recollection of that fated blind date. Of course he’d remember that. It would be hard to forget the way you all but sculled down three full glasses in the time it took him to finish one. A quick sideways glance revealed the slight upturn to the corners of his mouth, paired with a telling glint in his eyes. Jaehyun was teasing.
“It was honestly quite impressive,” he said, lips curling into a full-blown smile now.
“That was different,” you said. The next sip went down a little faster than you would have liked. “That was out of necessity.”
There was no way I could’ve made it through that night without alcohol in my system, you almost said, but caught yourself just in time.
A few seconds passed before either of you spoke again.
“Were you really upset to see me?”
Gone was the playful lilt to his voice. This question was asked softly, carefully, the sound of it so delicate you were afraid it would shatter in the air at your clumsy reply. Slowly, you turned to look at him, seeking the reassurance you were sure you could find in his eyes, but they had moved to the contents of his own glass. You followed their path, watching as he gave the liquid a few absent-minded swirls.
“Maybe. A little, I think,” you admitted. “I don’t know. There was a lot going on in my head that day. When I realised it was you.”
A pair of giggling women — Joy’s guests who you didn’t know — approached the counter, one of them tentatively reaching for something in front of you. Noticing her struggle, you shuffled slightly towards Jaehyun, trying to make some space around the counter. The one with her hand outstretched flashed you a grateful smile, which you politely returned, although with far less vigour.
Perhaps the bustling kitchen in the centre of all the foot traffic wasn’t the best place for a conversation like this.
There was some fussing with the bottle cap, or whatever it was that they couldn’t quite get to work, followed by a considerably clean pour for two people who were clearly not quite sober. Then they were gone, giggling the entire way out of the kitchen and freeing up the space around you.
If you wanted to, you could have stepped back and returned to your original spot before their arrival. Put some more distance between you and Jaehyun again. Not that you were seriously encroaching on his personal space, but it was enough for you to recognise the proximity.
Instead, you took the smallest of steps closer and placed a hand on his forearm. His eyes flitted down at the touch, taking in the way your fingers lay feather-light on his skin, just above the ridge of his wrist.
“I’m glad it was you,” you said. The words were true, but the honesty of them still tasted odd on your tongue, and you fought back a cringe. Jaehyun finally turned to meet your eyes, some semblance of hope, or maybe it was relief that coloured his expression. “And I’m glad we’re here, now,” you added.
You hoped he knew you weren’t talking about the far right corner of Joy’s kitchen.
Jaehyun smiled, and it was like the sun had finally risen up over the stark mountain peak, bathing everything in a warm, golden glow. It was the kind of warmth you didn’t realise you craved until the full force of it spilled over you, washing away the blue and the cold.
“Me too,” he said softly.
Even if you hadn’t fallen victim to Joy’s schemes, you would like to think the two of you would still end up here, only via longer and slightly different routes. Perhaps an unexpected run-in in the lobby on a Tuesday morning, or the eventual and excruciatingly awkward introduction through Joy. Whatever it may have been, you’d like to think you would’ve found your way to each other again eventually.
Curiosity tickled your mind. “What about you?”
“Hmm?”
He was still smiling, the lines by his nose just visible, and he had his eyes on you, though there was a faraway look about them. Something about his gaze reminded you of the way you’d regard a painting, framed and hung up on a wall in some art museum — carefully examining the details of the brushstrokes against the canvas, yet all the while trying to hold the whole piece in your mind’s eye, and let it touch the surface of that primal emotion somewhere inside of you. The depth of his gaze was enough to make you self-conscious, and you quickly averted your eyes, taking another sip from your glass. It was a good excuse to school your features before you spoke again.
“How did you feel when you saw me? Were you upset?”
Jaehyun regarded his own glass wistfully. “Not exactly upset, no,” he began, though a movement in his peripheral had him trailing off.
Another of Joy’s guests had appeared, hovering beside the two of you with his eyes set on the bottle of whiskey directly in front of you. Politely, Jaehyun side-stepped away from the counter and wrapped a gentle hand around the bend of your elbow, guiding you out of the hectic buzz of the kitchen. It stayed there, warm and comforting, until you found your way back to the open space of the living room, and even then he was slow to let you go, fingertips lingering a just second too long before they retreated back to his side.
“I think I was surprised, more than anything,” he continued. “Didn’t really know what to expect, not that I was expecting much. I never even thought I’d get to see you again after university. Thought you were gone for good.”
He paused, one side of his mouth quirking up slightly. The movement was small, and you wondered if you were supposed to have caught it at all.
“You stood there, with your bag in one hand and your cardigan in the other, looking like you were waiting for me to spontaneously combust—”
“Okay, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”
“—and all I could think about was how you were even prettier than I remembered. And back then I already thought you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.”
At that, you were quiet. Whatever silly rebuttal or attempt to defend yourself died quickly on your tongue as you let his confession settle beneath your skin, warming it from the inside out. Jaehyun was not even one bit fazed, looking like he had just said something trivial about the weather, or stated some objective fact like ‘grass is green’. For him, honesty had never been the heavy, cumbersome challenge it was for you. Judging by the resigned smile on his face, he wasn’t expecting some grand response from you either, which was all the better, because god, what were you supposed to say to something like that?
“Oh, there you are,” came a voice from behind you, followed by a hand on your shoulder.
Joy’s timing was impeccable, as always.
“Sorry, this one is coming with me,” she said to Jaehyun, looping her arm around yours with half-drunken determination. “Us fifth-floors have some business to settle. With darts.”
Your eyes followed the direction of her outstretched arm, where sure enough, there was a dartboard hanging on the wall by the balcony. Jungwoo was there, standing obediently with his hands crossed in front of his stomach as he politely nodded along to whatever Junmyeon was animatedly saying. The beer bottle Jungwoo cradled, now forgotten, seemed more like an accessory than an actual beverage. He caught your eye and sent you a frantic look.
You whipped your head back to Jaehyun. “Please don’t let her take me.”
Surely, he could see the pleading, the desperation in your eyes.
Jaehyun, having witnessed the whole exchange between you and Jungwoo, only grinned. “It does sound like some serious business,” he said, cheeks dimpling. Joy made a noise of agreement and gave your arm a little tug.
“You’re more than welcome to come and spectate, Jaehyun,” she called out over her shoulder as she herded you towards her destination. His only response was a hearty laugh. You stared at him in despair as you were towed away by the birthday girl. Next time you’d invite his boss to the function.
The game of darts (or seven games, if you were being precise) was decidedly less awful than you had expected. Junmyeon had promised not to speak about work and by some miracle, actually stuck to his word. Maybe you even got to know the guy a little better, outside of his office habits like the specific order in which he drank his three teas everyday (yuja, then chamomile, and lastly peppermint). Like you, he was somewhat of a wine enthusiast, though his knowledge of French vineyards was far superior to yours.
By the third round, the game had clearly left your little work circle. Jaehyun joined in at one point, competitiveness getting the better of him. Doyoung tried his hand too, and he was honestly abysmal, but smiled the whole time and seemed to be enjoying himself, even if he had to pick the darts off the floor on every turn. Out of all the players over the course of the seven games, Junmyeon’s date Irene had been the most unexpected hidden card, scoring three bullseyes in a row.
Oh, to be a goddess and have perfect hand-eye coordination.
“You feeling okay?” you asked a rather blank-looking Jungwoo. His eyes were beginning to droop, and so was the rest of his body, long limbs sprawled out against the leather. You could swear he only had his initial bottle of beer and the two celebratory soju shots Joy had forced him to take (from which you were not exempt either), and yet here he was, half-asleep on the couch.
“Hmm,” was his eloquent reply.
The party was slowly drawing to a close, the living room much emptier now than it had been when you first walked in. Junmyeon and Irene had made their departure some twenty minutes ago, and there were only a handful of guests left, most of them getting ready to leave as well. Grown adults didn’t gamble with their sleep schedules.
Doyoung emerged from the hallway, running a hand through the mess of hair on top of his head, already tousled from the fifty or so times he had repeated the action throughout the night.
“Okay, she’s knocked out,” he sighed. On his face, you glimpsed the first sign of relief you had seen all night. “I don’t think she’s going to puke, but I left a bucket by the bed just in case.”
You flashed him a grateful smile. “Thank you for tonight. I can’t imagine it was easy having to wrangle all these people for so long.”
“Oh, it’s no big deal. As long as Joy’s happy and had a good time.”
Even though he was clearly exhausted, Doyoung smiled, and the fondness held within it felt like a private thing you shouldn’t have witnessed. Your mind went, now as it always did, to a certain dimpled smile.
“I’d better get this one home,” you said instead, gesturing at Jungwoo slumped on the couch. You turned towards the boy, patting his shoulder gently. “Come on, time to go.”
“Mmffh.”
Another brilliant and enlightening response.
The owner of your favourite dimpled smile stepped out from the bathroom to the sight of you struggling to get Jungwoo upright enough to loop an arm around your shoulders. The half-asleep boy was lean, but definitely heavier than he looked, or perhaps the few glasses of wine over the course of the night had sapped some of the strength from your body. Jaehyun was at your side in an instant, shouldering most of Jungwoo’s weight as the two of you dragged him to a standing position.
“I’ll come with you,” he said, no room for discussion in his tone. You had no mind to protest anyway.
Doyoung was already busying himself with clearing plates and glasses from the living area when Jaehyun bid him farewell. The guy seemed to have formulated a detailed plan of attack to get his apartment back to the no-doubt spotless state it had been prior to tonight.
“I sorted out most of the empty bottles so you should be able to just throw them out in the morning,” Jaehyun said over his shoulder. He crouched on the ground, guiding Jungwoo’s disobedient left foot into the correct shoe, carefully doing up the laces once both feet were inside their corresponding sneakers.
You tossed a glance back at Doyoung whizzing around the place like a Roomba, feeling a pang of guilt for not having done much to help him clean up. Even though you had been a much more gracious and tidy guest than other people in Joy’s company, you couldn’t help but feel like there was more you could’ve done, apart from babysitting a very not-sober Jungwoo and making sure he didn’t crack his head open on the corner of the coffee table.
“It’s fine,” Jaehyun said softly. You turned to look at him, half-surprised, and he only flashed you a small smile. “Doyoung likes to clean. I think he finds comfort in it.”
He was fluent as ever in your micro-expressions. Maybe one day you’d learn to stop being surprised by it.
The taxi back to Jungwoo’s place was shorter than you had expected. His head lolled between your shoulder and Jaehyun’s in the backseat, before finally finding a home in Jaehyun’s lap. Even when you finally tucked the younger boy safely into his own bed — after going to great lengths to extract his building code which involved a series of profuse apologies to his neighbours who you had mistakenly rung in the middle of the night — there was an impressive imprint on his right cheek that exactly matched the side seam on Jaehyun’s jeans. You could’ve sworn there was a small, wet patch of drool left behind on the denim, and you were sure Jaehyun himself had noticed it too, but he gave no indication of complaint.
“Are you far from here?” Jaehyun asked once the elevator had brought the both of you back down to Jungwoo’s lobby.
“I’m actually just a fifteen minute walk away,” you answered.
The invitation in your voice was silent, and you knew he would’ve accompanied you home even if you lived on the other side of the city. Still, some achingly pleasant emotion settled over you when you heard his footsteps fall in with yours against the pavement. He took his place between you and the open street, shielding you from the bustle of late night delivery bikes and club bound taxis.
Though the days still resembled summer, nights were when the beginnings of autumn could reveal itself. The slight chill in the air was not unbearable, but still noticeable against your bare arms, and just enough for goosebumps to spring up on the skin there. Before you could even bring your hands up to wrap them around yourself, Jaehyun shrugged off his jacket and wordlessly draped it over your shoulders.
“Thanks,” you mumbled, drawing the collar close around your neck. The stiff denim was a little rough, but warm from his body heat all the same, with faint traces of his woody scent lingering on the fabric.
Jaehyun thrust his hands in his pockets and grinned. “Now you out-Justin-Timberlake me.”
“Still not a real word.”
You supposed there was something about night-time that made it feel all the more forgiving to the emotional afflictions of the human condition. Perhaps it was only against the muted palette of the midnight blue sky and the dimly lit city streets that you felt brave enough to face the truth of your feelings, without agonising over the consequences of acknowledging them. Even so, you found yourself wishing the night would stretch on for just a little longer. Honesty always seemed to wear off faster than it came on.
“You’ve been crazy busy lately.”
Jaehyun’s responding laugh contained little amusement. “Crazy busy is one way to put it. I can’t believe Johnny has had to deal with all of this the whole time. This client is so,” he paused, trying to find the right word, before finally settling on “demanding.” The look in his eyes gave you the feeling there were many other more colourful adjectives he wanted to use instead.
The two of you passed the convenience store corner of your street. Your place was not too far up ahead, the glass building doors almost visible if you squinted. The night was coming to an end, and something cold and heavy settled in your chest to accompany the realisation.
“They want us in New York working on the new client site as soon as possible, so we’ve been running around trying to get visas and everything sorted,” he sighed.
Your footsteps faltered.
“You’re going to New York?” you asked.
He nodded.
“When?”
“Within the next week, if everything comes back approved.”
You hadn’t even noticed that you had come to a standstill until Jaehyun’s footsteps also slowed to a stop. The both of you stood like that, under the dim glow from the streetlights, in the middle of the sidewalk.
“We’ll probably be there until the end of the year, at least until the design piece is done,” he said.
Did your face betray the sudden drop of your stomach? Did the sound of a fissure cracking through your chest escape through the slight parting of your lips?
It was silly, really. That one small piece of information could turn your entire world on its head. International travel on a project wasn’t a rare occurrence. And you supposed you would’ve found out sooner or later, even if he hadn’t told you, because he had no obligation to update you about every development in his life, even if they involved crossing continents. Even if you wanted to know every little detail.
Jaehyun’s eyes moved from his shoes to your face. The shadows cast by the streetlights made it hard to decipher his expression, but you thought there was a pleading look to his handsome face. What he was pleading for, you weren’t entirely sure.
You cleared your throat and finally found your voice again. “That’s really exciting, Jaehyun,” you managed, trying to keep your tone light. “I hear New York is gorgeous this time of year.”
The smile you pasted on your face was a flimsy one, and you could feel your top lip begin to tremble when he didn’t quite return it. Before it could turn into a grimace, you let the corners of your mouth fall. There had never been any use in putting on an act in front of him. Unsure what else to say without sounding insincere — though you were excited for him, truly, this little fit of sadness was a silly thing that would pass surely and quickly — you turned and resumed your steps towards your apartment.
Another few minutes and you’d be in the safety of your own home. Free to let your top lip tremble and quiver, and let the inexplicable lump in your throat force its way out, rather than try to swallow it down.
It only took a few steps for you to realise that Jaehyun had not followed. You looked over your shoulder to find him standing there by the streetlight, eyes fixed on the ground again.
“I don’t want to go,” he said, toeing at a crack in the concrete. “If I didn’t have to, I wouldn’t. I don’t want to leave…”
You.
He may not have said that last word, but you heard it all the same. Your chest squeezed with emotion you couldn’t quite place.
“But you have to,” you said softly. A gentle breeze blew through the early autumn air and you briefly wondered if your words had been carried adrift.
He looked up at you then, eyes burning into yours with unspoken sentiments. A thousand words were conveyed with that one look, those few seconds in which you understood everything he wanted to say, and nothing he wanted to say, because he hadn’t said much at all. Just like how he could read your emotions with a simple glance at your face, you saw his reluctance. You saw the irresolution in his resolve, and how it wavered as he turned over in his mind the things he wanted to say to you, and how much of his heart he was willing to risk.
“But I have to,” he agreed.
Jaehyun still knew you inside out, yes, but you knew him too.
Your feet dragged over the last few hundred metres to your apartment complex, until you finally reached the door and there was nothing left you could do to delay the inevitable.
“Here,” you said, handing his jacket back to him. “Thank you for walking me home.”
He took it from your outstretched hand, fingers just brushing your knuckles. “Of course.”
And maybe Jaehyun was just as unwilling to let you go. His feet stayed firmly planted on the concrete pavement in front of your building, even though you were pretty sure no harm would befall you across the five steps into the lobby. The two of you stood there for a while, neither quite knowing what to say, or how to ward off the odd melancholy you knew he felt too.
There were so few guarantees of forever in life. You knew that. And even if you had never really gotten him back in the first place, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were losing him again. Except this time, he wouldn’t just be a 67-minute subway ride away. This time, he’d be a 14-hour flight away, on the other side of not the city but the world, with 7,000 miles and the entire Pacific Ocean separating you.
And yes, he’d come back eventually, but who could promise that the feelings between the two of you now would be the same upon his return? You knew that you were in no position to demand he refrain from exploring other romantic pursuits, to deter him from making new connections in the diverse metropolis that was New York City, and all the excitement and energy that came with it.
You had unknowingly gotten in the way of that once.
“Well, I’d better get inside,” you said quietly, gesturing at the building behind you. Jaehyun only nodded.
This was it. All things must come to an end, you thought as you walked up to the lobby door. Even if they never really started. Perhaps you and your hesitance to let him in had played the biggest part of all, and whatever it was between you and Jaehyun wouldn’t be ending before it began if you had only been more forgiving at the start. Less pointy and disagreeable. Perhaps then you would be parting now on more certain terms, and you’d carry some peace of mind knowing he’d be coming back to you, instead of the crushing weight of disappointment currently lodged underneath your sternum.
And yet, what difference did it make? You’d be losing him anyway, no matter what you did. In two weeks’ time, he’d be sitting in a conference room on a different continent, regardless of whether you said nothing or cussed him out to his face right now.
Your hand froze on the steel handle for only a second before you turned around to face him again. Three determined strides was all it took to close the distance between you.
“What is it?” he asked.
There had been few occasions where you had seen Jaehyun drunk, or at least not sober, in the years you had known him. Your split early on in university had not afforded you many chances to witness his supposedly high tolerance in action at weekend benders. Nothing more than a few underage sips snuck from his dad’s glass at the dinner table. You took a second now to look at him, really look at him, taking in all the details of the face you knew almost as well as your own.
Pink. Everything about him was so pink, from the slight tinge around the whites of his eyes, to the lingering flush in the apples of his cheeks.
To the pretty colour of his soft, full lips.
They parted with confusion when you approached. Carefully, you reached out a hand and placed it against his cheek, feeling the way he leaned into your touch almost immediately. His eyes fluttered shut for the briefest of moments before they were searching your face again, almost fervently.
“I just…” you whispered, trying to commit this picture of him to memory.
What difference did it make?
It was hard to tell who moved first. You’d like to believe it didn’t matter.
The rhythm of your lips against his was unfamiliar at first, clumsy from years of disuse. Through slow and careful movements, you reacquainted yourself with the shape of Jaehyun’s mouth, the pillowy swell of his bottom lip as it gently slid in between your own. It fit there perfectly, like it always did. His hands came up to graze the curve of your waist, resting lightly on your skin as if he was afraid you’d crumble like sand in his grasp.
You tilted your head, parting your mouth ever so slightly to let the tip of your tongue brush against the underside of his top lip. The kiss changed immediately. You felt his surprise in the small puff of air that escaped through his nose and landed softly against your cheek. His fingers gripped at you with a newfound strength, pulling you flush against him. Even through the fabric of your shirts, the outline of his toned chest was unmistakable. Your hands found their home in the softness of hair at the nape of his neck, revelling in the throaty sound that left him as you ran your hands through it.
How had you denied yourself of this for so long?
Jaehyun must have pulled away first, because suddenly you could breathe again, shaky gasps coming in and out through your mouth. He fared no better, pressing his forehead gently against yours while he tried to catch his breath.
You couldn’t think. You felt electrified, as if every nerve ending in your body was simultaneously firing, as if your blood was laced with dynamite. Hell, you had half a mind to invite him up to your room and finish off what you had so brazenly started.
“It’s late,” he finally managed, voice rough. “You should head in.” His hands, however, stayed firmly in place around your waist. You watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down with each swallow.
Right. Perhaps it was best to let the night end here, before you could do anything else that you might regret.
“Yeah, I should probably,” you murmured, catching the way his eyes followed each movement of your mouth as you spoke. The sound of your voice seemed to break the daze he was in, and you felt his grip on you loosen, slowly and reluctantly. The arms you had looped around his neck made their way back to your sides. You were released from his warmth far too quickly.
Impulsive decisions (like inviting your ex-boyfriend to spend the night in your one-bedroom apartment with nowhere to sleep except in your bed) seldom ended well. You should’ve known better than to make those rookie mistakes.
You had barely turned around to walk up to your building doors when Jaehyun wrapped a warm hand around your wrist and pulled you back into him. He pressed his lips to yours, swallowing the small noise of surprise that left your mouth. This time, his kiss was softer, surer, and in it you tasted the sweetness of unspoken promises he was determined to keep.
“I’ll see you when I get back,” he said, dark eyes fixed on you with conviction. Your lip colour had smudged by the side of his mouth, leaving behind a faint pink stain that only added to the pretty hue of his now kiss-swollen lips.
He was still the most gorgeous person you had ever seen.
“See you when you’re back, then,” you echoed.
Some odd emotion, neither happy nor sad, settled in your chest as you pushed open the door to the emptiness of your home. You had rushed to the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jaehyun before he left, only to find he had gone already, and the sidewalk outside your building was as vacant as to be expected for this hour of the night.
No matter. You’d wait for him to come back.
“One more prosecco before he disappears to the bathroom for the rest of the night.”
You cast a glance at the catering table and clicked your tongue against your teeth.
“Half a prosecco,” you concluded, taking a sip from your own glass.
Joy raised a shapely eyebrow at you. “You know it doesn’t hit until at least twenty minutes after he gets the munchies.”
“True, but he specifically told me he skipped lunch today so it would hit earlier, and he’d have the energy to mingle.”
“Well,” she shrugged, “I guess that’d do it.”
The two of you turned your gazes back to the catering table, where Jungwoo was doing some serious damage to the salmon ceviche tostadas. The glass in his hand was empty, and you watched as he asked for a refill from one of the waitstaff.
“Someone should really stop him,” Joy sighed. “Before we get a repeat of last year.”
“Someone should,” you agreed.
Neither of you made a move.
As far as year-end wrap-up events went, this one wasn’t too bad, even if it was your first at the company. This year, HR had managed to book one of the smaller function rooms at an upscale hotel, with an open bar and hors d’oeuvres menu to match. It was a nice chance to celebrate the year’s achievements, and get to know the other people in the department a little better. Already a year in this place, and you’d be lying if you said you knew the name of every person on your floor.
September to November had flown by in a blur. Recruitment for the company’s graduate program next year had been an intensive few months of screening, interviewing, reviewing, and then interviewing again. As hectic as it had been, the fruits of your team’s efforts had been warmly recognised with smiles and praises from the senior managers and higher-ups you’d had the chance to speak with tonight.
Traditionally, each department hosted their own event, though from what you gathered, HR and Marketing were the only ones that put in any real effort. While HR liked to keep things classy, Marketing liked to go all out.
“Do you think it’s true that Marketing rented out a yacht this year?” you asked. Surely their budget wasn’t that excessive.
Joy made a face. “God, I hope not. It’s the middle of December. I’d be surprised if the Han River wasn’t all frozen over.”
Winter had come early this year, sinking its cold fingers into November and staking its claim. Yet, there had been no snow, even though it was only a few days out from the holidays. Though it was nice that your clothes stayed relatively dry all day from the lack of precipitation, you couldn’t help but miss the sight of the city covered in a blanket of white softness.
“There he goes,” Joy said, nudging your arm. You turned to see Jungwoo excuse himself from the conversation, setting down a barely-touched glass on the tablecloth. He made a beeline for the men’s restrooms, or as close to a beeline as he could manage in his current state, face flushed and a little queasy.
It was a good thing the company’s holiday closure started tomorrow.
“Okay, you win. Want to come and get a refill with me?” she asked. “We can say hi to a few of the directors over there.”
The thought of having to network with more seniors, when you had already spent the last hour and a half donning bright smiles and laughing politely at their lacklustre jokes, was not a pleasant one. You knew it would be a good thing for you to go and introduce yourself, but your battery for social interaction had long since been depleted. Perhaps you should’ve taken a page out of Jungwoo’s book.
Still, you flashed Joy a grateful smile. “You go ahead. I might grab some air, actually.”
“Okay,” she replied, eyes warm with understanding. “But make sure you put your coat on. It’s freezing out there.”
She was right, of course. The toasty interior of the function room was a completely different world from the frigid gust of wind that greeted you as soon as you pulled the sliding door open. An upscale hotel needed to have a matching upscale view of the city. You leaned against the balcony railing, blocking out the icy sting of the metal against your hands, and took in the sight of the not-quite-frozen Han River below, and the sparkling Seoul Tower further away on the skyline.
You’d only be out here for a little bit, you told yourself. Just a few minutes, and then you’d head home.
Truthfully, you could have left half an hour ago when your reserves for socialising had just run out, and be within the warm and familiar confines of your own bed right now, doom-scrolling to your heart’s content. But these days, the solitude of your apartment that you had once found comforting had evolved into a loneliness that you’d rather avoid.
The empty echoes of your own footsteps across the tiled floors didn’t bounce against the walls like deep laughter did.
Absent-mindedly, you thumbed at the pendant sitting at the hollow of your throat. You had turned your jewellery box inside out, almost fully convinced that you had lost the thing entirely until you finally spotted the milky pearl set in white gold, underneath all the other chains. It was gorgeous when you had first opened the velvet box all those years ago, and it still was now, even if you hadn’t seen it for quite some time. Jaehyun always had an eye for beautiful things.
You weren’t the only one who endured a few packed and chaotic months. Johnny’s team had flown out of the country the Wednesday after Joy’s birthday and had been sequestered in New York ever since. Between your swamped schedules and the 14 hour time difference, conversations with Jaehyun were intermittent at best, and sparse and uncoordinated at worst. Sometimes he’d message with silly little things, like the time he sent you a picture of a doll sitting in the window of an antique shop.
this reminded me of you, the accompanying text had said.
He was due back soon, and there was still much left to be said, but above all, you only hoped that he was well, and that the New York winter was much more forgiving than it was here at home.
The cloudy wisps of air formed by your breath floated upwards before they dissipated into the night sky. No wonder the balcony was empty — who would want to be out here when there were mozzarella stuffed mushrooms and central heating on the other side of the glass?
You heard the doors slide open behind you as someone else equally as crazy decided to step out into the cold. Just as well. It was time for you to head back anyways. You turned to make your way inside, only to freeze in your tracks.
“They told me I’d find you out here. You really know how to pick a spot, huh?”
A soft gasp left your mouth.
“Jaehyun?”
He gave you a smile, your favourite smile, where his dimples were only just visible, and there was the hint of a pout to the shape of his lips. He was here, and he was in front of you, looking at you like you were the most wonderful thing in the world that he would ever have the good fortune of knowing. Your chest swelled almost painfully at the sight of him.
“When did you get back? How did you even get in here?”
“We landed in Incheon earlier this afternoon. I had to pay the door guy outside a hundred bucks for him to let me in.”
Your eyes widened. “He can’t make you do that!”
“Just kidding,” Jaehyun chuckled. “I only had to show him my company ID.”
He walked over to where you stood by the railing and rested his arms against the metal. His profile was sharp against the darkness of the night sky, and you took a moment to study the details while he took in the view.
“Are you tired?” you asked. “It can’t be easy adjusting to the time difference.”
“A little,” he admitted. The bags under his eyes were dark and purple now that you could see his face up close. He must have been exhausted. Nobody ever slept well on long haul flights. “You should see Johnny though. He would have come tonight, but jet lag is seriously kicking his ass.”
You shared a laugh, traces of your breaths mingling in the air. Beside him, you settled back into your original spot, mirroring the way he leaned against the metal railing. Jaehyun was close, but not too close, your elbows only a few centimetres apart. A mellow silence settled over the balcony as you gazed out at the river, watching the never-ending stream of cars as they circled the waterfront.
With even this, you were content. His mere presence next to you was a remedy in itself, regardless of the words shared or touches exchanged. You felt more at home in this moment now than you had in over 3 months.
“I’ve missed you,” he said, still gazing out into the distance. The gravity in his voice hinted at circumstances beyond the recent season he had spent on the other side of the world. And yet, he had said it so simply, as if the words were an immovable truth that would withstand the corrosion of time.
“I’ve missed you too,” you replied.
Maybe it was just that simple, because it was the truth. The nights weathered away in your own apartment were only lonely because there had been an absence of him, an absence that was known to you, even if you had not felt it for many years.
He turned to you, taking in a shaky breath. “I should never have let you go.”
“Oh, Jaehyun—”
“I was young, and foolish, and I thought I knew what I wanted. And I had you, but I thought I wanted more, because I wanted everything. I wanted the whole damn world.”
Something sharp pricked behind your eyes as you listened to the honesty pouring out of him.
“And then I lost you, and it was—god, it was… like someone had sucked all the colour out of my life. And I had no one to blame, because I was the one who did that to myself. To us.”
It was so hard to not notice the pain etched into his beautiful features. The tight set of his jaw. The redness that rimmed his eyes. Your fingers ached to reach over and smooth out the crease between his brows.
“There were so many things I could have done to make things right between us again. Even if you wouldn’t have me back. But my pride, and my ego… I did nothing—”
“You can’t pin it all on yourself, Jaehyun,” you said, shaking your head. “I had no idea what I wanted. And even when I did, I never acted—I never stood up for myself. I could’ve fought for us, but I didn’t. I just accepted everything. Hell, I never even told you how I felt.”
You flashed him a watery smile. “We needed the time away from each other, don’t you think?”
There was a moment where the two of you simply stared at each other. A hurricane of repressed emotions swirled in your chest, finally breaking the surface five years on. Jaehyun must have felt the same, reliving all those memories now. You could see it on his face.
Youth was so beautiful, and precious — even the heartbreak, and all the other foolish things that came along with it.
“I let you go once, and maybe that was meant to happen.” He took a step closer. “But we’re not dumb teenagers anymore. I’m not… I won’t make the same mistake twice.”
His eyes locked on yours as he gazed at you with reverence. “Don’t you still feel the same? Even after all these years?”
I do, you wanted to say.
You would have too, if it weren’t for the small speck of white that landed in Jaehyun’s dark hair. It was visible for only a few seconds before melting away. You looked up and sure enough, the night sky was dotted with white.
“First snow,” you breathed, watching as the snowflakes fell from the sky. “Do you know what that means?”
Jaehyun gave you a small shake of his head. Of course. He never believed in superstitions.
You reached for his hand, feeling his fingers respond to yours immediately. He was so warm, and his touch breathed life back into your frozen body.
“If you see the first snow with someone you love, it means that your love will be true and long-lasting.”
A few seconds passed as he took in your words, trying to make sense of them.
“You… love me?”
“I do,” you admitted. A teardrop finally spilled out from your waterline, leaving behind a wet track on your cheek that stung in the cold. “Even when I thought I hated you, deep down, I think I still loved you.”
One of his hands came up to wipe away the trail of moisture from the escaped tear. The action sent a shiver through your entire body.
“I never stopped loving you,” he confessed softly, stroking your cheek. You felt it then, that deep, aching feeling that had threaded itself into the very marrow of your bones.
Longing. You longed for his presence, his smile, his touch. You longed to hold his heart in your hands again, and give him yours in exchange. You had missed him more than you could bear, and here he was, telling you his heart was where it had always been, sitting in the centre of your palm.
Perfect moments didn’t exist, but damn did this one come close.
“Come here,” Jaehyun whispered, pulling you into him.
His mouth was just as sweet as you remembered. His lips were a little rougher, slightly chapped from the cold. His kiss was slow and patient, taking his time to explore the shape of your mouth and mould to it again. You felt his smile, the slight tension in his bottom lip giving him away, and you couldn’t help but reciprocate, a quiet giggle bubbling in your chest before escaping through your lips.
“I really fucking missed you,” you mumbled against his mouth, another giggle accompanying the words. “You kissed me and then you were on a plane to the other side of the world.”
“I told you I’d see you when I was back, didn’t I?” he reminded, giving your waist a small squeeze. “And for the record, you kissed me. Not that it matters.”
You swatted a hand against his chest. “I see you still care too much about technicalities.”
Jaehyun only laughed, that deep and familiar sound you had craved to hear for the last 3 months. He pulled your hands into his warm ones, and pressed his lips to your knuckles.
“Your hands are cold,” he murmured, wrapping his fingers around yours.
“Well, I was about to head back inside when you found me. It’s nice and toasty in there.”
“Do you want to go in now?”
You looped your arms around his neck and buried your head into the crook of it. “Let’s just stay out here for a little bit longer,” you said, words muffled by the fabric of his coat. “You always run hot in the colder months anyways. Enough to keep me warm.”
He hummed in agreement, holding you flush against him as the snow fell around you. In his arms, you were the most at ease you had been in years, and the thought was almost enough to bring a fresh new wave of moisture to your eyes.
“What is that—something’s digging in,” he suddenly said, pulling away from you. His eyes landed on the pendant that had slipped out from underneath the lapels of your coat. Wordlessly, he reached for it, running his thumb across the pale pearl that hung from your neck.
“You kept this?”
“Of course,” you answered. “You kept yours.”
He smiled, a big one, dimples marking his cheeks. “Of course,” he repeated.
“We’re lucky, aren’t we? To have found each other again after all this time?���
Jaehyun’s reply took the form of another sweet and unhurried kiss. It warmed you from the inside out, all the way down to the tips of your toes.
“So we’re really doing this, right?” he asked. “We’re giving us a second chance?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Are you telling me you said all that earlier just for shits and giggles?”
“Of course not,” he chuckled, squeezing your sides again. “I just wanted to make sure. I think I might lose faith in the world if you tell me you don’t want to be with me.”
“You have nothing to worry about,” you reassured. The snow was sticking to his hair, and you took a second to run your hands through it, brushing off the half-melted pieces. His eyes fondly followed your every movement.
“Good, because I plan on keeping you for a long time.”
You returned inside shortly after. The snow had picked up and it was clear that you couldn’t stay out for much longer (unless you wanted hypothermia, which neither of you did). The function hall was much emptier now than it had been when you stepped out, and of the remaining faces, none of them were familiar.
A quick glance at your phone showed a few unread messages from Joy.
joy [08:32 pm]: hey, had to leave, doyoung’s still working tomorrow so it’s an early night for me joy [08:33 pm]: hope you and jaehyun work things out joy [08:33 pm]: i’m rooting for you guys!!
joy [08:37 pm]: also can you see if jungwoo is okay joy [08:38 pm]: i don’t think he’s come out yet
“Can I ask a favour, just before we go?”
Jaehyun smiled back at you sweetly, devotion written in his eyes. “Anything.”
“Pop into the men’s room and check if Jungwoo’s still alive?”
Life was a funny thing.
“There are so few things in life that are guaranteed. Death, for one, and taxes, for another. Sorry if that was a bit dark and killed the mood. You can laugh, by the way. But I think everyone here would agree, neither of those two are all that conducive to happiness.”
Roundabout.
“So when the girl you’ve been chasing, for what feels like an eternity, finally gives you a second chance, you absolutely cannot take it for granted. You grab onto that chance with both hands, and even your teeth if you have to. It’s no guarantee for happiness, but it’s your best bet.”
Unpredictable.
“I’m not a God-fearing man, but I’m a God-believing man. I thank God everyday for bringing such a magnificent woman into my life.”
He raised his glass.
“Joy, you make me the happiest person in the world, and I can’t wait to be married to you.”
The crowd broke into warm applause as Doyoung finished off his impromptu speech by planting a kiss on his bride-to-be.
“He’s so good at talking,” you mused, wrapping your arm around Jaehyun’s. “If that’s his toast for this, I wonder what his vows will be like.”
A year ago, you would never have believed that you’d be attending your co-worker’s engagement party, much less with your ex-boyfriend who you hadn’t seen in 5 years. Spring had well and truly arrived, and with it came promises of love and new beginnings. The last rays of the April afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows of the riverside art centre. The venue was gorgeous, floating on the edge of the river with unobstructed views of the skyline and where it met the water — as always, Joy knew how to pick a spot.
“I didn’t know she rejected him before they got together. He must have really liked her.”
Jaehyun gave you a crooked smile. “Four years of university, and he never gave up. Even when she started dating that blockhead from liberal arts.”
“I bet he would’ve felt like the luckiest guy in the world when she finally said yes to a date,” you said, watching as the happy couple shared a moment, giggling about something nobody else was privy to. Jaehyun followed your gaze and made a small noise of agreement.
“Not as lucky as I am to have found you again.”
He ran his thumb across your knuckles. You could’ve sworn there was stardust sprinkled into those pretty brown eyes of his.
Life was a funny thing, for sure. It had a funny way of bringing back things you once thought you had lost forever. You knew now that you had to seize them before they passed by. Who knew if they’d ever turn up again?
“Okay, that’s enough.”
Jungwoo set his glass down on the table with a loud thunk, lightly startling you.
“I’m right here. You guys know that, right? I am right in front of you.”
A sheepish smile was thrown his way. “Sorry.” You patted his hand once, softly. “Your time will come, I’m sure of it,” you reassured. “How did the date with the KU Business girl go?”
“I flaked,” Jungwoo said simply.
“No! Why?”
He sighed. “Blind dates are really not my thing. It’s too awkward. And it feels so superficial. Like, what if you have nothing in common, or there’s no physical attraction, or—”
Jungwoo paused, cutting himself off. “Actually, I’m not talking about this with you people. I’m going to get another drink.” With that, he turned and headed straight for the cocktail bar. You and Jaehyun gazed at him from behind as he walked off.
“I’m gonna be babysitting him again tonight, aren’t I?” Jaehyun asked, the question directed at nobody in particular.
“People are going to start wondering if you’re dating me or him.”
His mouth curled into a smirk. “Should I give them a reminder?”
“My boss is standing right over there, so no.”
Junmyeon and Irene were still going steady, to your surprise. You’d probably be seeing more and more of him, since Joy and the rest of the Parks genuinely treated Irene like one of their own. The thought wasn’t exactly a pleasant one, but not awful either. Maybe you were warming up to him.
“Also, you should probably be careful about who you call blockhead,” you said to Jaehyun, holding back a smile.
He fixed you with a suspicious stare. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know,” you trailed off, gesturing vaguely at his head. The smile broke through, your cheeks lifting as you tried to keep the laughter from coming out. He, on the other hand, was thoroughly unimpressed.
“You should really watch your mouth,” he said lowly, though he was smiling. There was a look in his eyes that sent a jolt straight to the pit of your stomach.
“Or what?”
His hands were all over you before you even made it through the door.
“My beautiful, gorgeous, sexy girlfriend,” he mumbled, peppering your neck with kisses between each adjective. The keypad finally beeped and you pushed down on the handle, letting the door swing open as you pulled him in by the collar.
“Stop talking and just kiss me,” you sighed, dragging his face back up to yours. He was all too eager to comply, mouth slotting over yours with practised ease. His tongue brushed along yours in the way he knew you liked, pulling your bottom lip into his mouth with just the right amount of pressure. Fire licked at your insides as he drew a light moan from you.
Four months in, the second time around, and everything with Jaehyun was still electrifying.
Your hands fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, finally succeeding with undoing the top one after a few tries. Hands came up around the back of your thighs, lifting you up onto his kitchen countertop. The marble was cool to the touch, and you felt it through the silk of your dress, a soft gasp of surprise flying from your mouth into his awaiting one.
“Been wanting to do this all day, ever since you put this thing on,” Jaehyun rasped. The heat of his body radiated into you from where he stood between your parted legs. He was so warm up against you, and he smelled so good, you were positively light-headed with desire.
His mouth ghosted over the shell of your ear, sending a shiver through you. “You look so fucking good,” he said, teeth gently grazing the skin of your neck. “My pretty girl.” The quick press of his hips into yours pulled another moan out of you, and you braced a hand against the marble countertop.
Your fingers knocked against the edge of something sharp and sent it tumbling to the floor, where it landed with a heavier thud than you were expecting.
“What was that?” you forced out in between gasps. Jaehyun’s teeth nipped at your collarbone, showing no signs of letting up. “Wait, Jae, something fell on the floor.”
You had smashed a mug in your apartment in the midst of it once. Better safe than sorry.
Reluctantly, Jaehyun detached himself from you and bent down to retrieve the fallen item. He was breathing hard as he picked up a thick, padded envelope, and flipped it over to read the details.
“Photos,” he finally managed, tossing the package back onto the counter. “We can look at them later.”
His mouth was on you again, working at the spot between your neck and shoulder that always had your knees weak and toes curling.
“Wait,” you giggled, “my film photos? I want to see.” He had sent the camera off almost two weeks ago, and you had been (im)patiently waiting for the developed pictures to be sent back.
Jaehyun looked up at you with hooded eyes. “Really? You want to look at them now?”
You nodded.
A beat passed before his face broke into a lazy smile.
“Okay,” he chuckled softly, reaching for the envelope again.
There was a good stack in there. The ones on top were more recent, with a few shots from his birthday that had recently passed. You had taken him ice skating at the outdoor rink atop Namsan Mountain. The twinkling lights that hung from the trees surrounding the rink were still beautiful, even through photos. Jaehyun was good at so many things that it was unfair — how could he be so talented and have a face like that? — but on that day, you discovered that ice skating was not one of his strengths, and the bruises on his tailbone could attest to that.
“The colouring on these is really nice,” you murmured, flicking through the photos.
He hummed. “They are. This place doesn’t over-saturate the images, which is why I like them.”
A few more pictures from Christmas, where the two of you had set up a pillow fort — it had always been a childhood dream of yours — and stayed in watching movies for three whole days because it was too cold to do anything that required leaving the house. Funnily enough though, you had spent New Year’s Eve out in the cold with a few thousand others, waiting for the annual fireworks. There were a few shots of those as well.
You neared the bottom of the stack, recognising the blur of colours that formed the crowd of the jazz festival from last year.
“All of these are out of focus,” you complained, a pout adorning your lips. The shots of the stage, of the artists, even the one of Jaehyun and the cute face he made trying to fit the burger in his mouth. Only the two pictures of you were crisply defined, because he had taken them.
You flipped to the last photo. It was the one you took at the end of the show, during the closing bars of Lauv’s set. Miraculously, this one was in focus. You could see the press of your cheek against Jaehyun’s, and the slight surprise in his eyes as you had clicked the shutter. Lauv was nowhere to be seen, but maybe a clear shot of him as well would have been asking for too much.
“Can I say something cheesy?” Jaehyun asked softly.
“You’ll say it anyway.”
“I really wanted to kiss you. On this day.”
Strange, that it was these words which brought heat to your cheeks. Surely there were other things that would be more appropriate to blush about, instead of a months-late admission that was degrees more innocent than your current situation, where Jaehyun’s shirt was half undone, and the fabric of your dress was bunched up around your hips.
“I wanted to kiss you right there, in the crowd. And then I wanted to kiss you again, here, when you made that stupid ramen joke. And when you had that chilli flake stuck on the corner of your mouth.”
You set the last photo down on the counter and turned back to Jaehyun, who was still standing between your knees.
“And how about now?” you asked, the corners of your mouth lifting in a teasing smile.
He cradled your chin, tilting your face towards his, and let the pad of his thumb brush over the swell of your bottom lip.
“I think you already know the answer to that.”
The crescent moon was high and luminescent in the sky when you caught your breath again, the last few waves of euphoria ebbing away through your body. Jaehyun always indulged you.
Maybe a little too much.
You turned to him, nestling your face into the crook of his neck and breathing in the scent of soap and his skin. A finger lazily traced over the ridges of his stomach.
“That tickles,” he mumbled into your hair. It must’ve still been damp from the shower, but he didn’t seem to mind. Fatigue was already tugging away at him.
“Do you want me to stop?” you asked softly, looking up at him.
He shook his head, just slightly. “I like knowing you’re there.”
You resumed your movements, but it was only a few seconds before Jaehyun was shifting, soft laughs filling the intimate space of his bedroom.
“That really does tickle,” he said, smile threaded into his voice. One of his hands reached for yours, pulling it up to rest against his chest. The gentle press of his lips on your forehead was a delicate thing.
You fell asleep like that, feeling the steady beat of his heart, quiet and sure beneath your fingertips. It was warm in his hold, and safe. There was no other home you needed to know.
#jaehyun#nct jaehyun#jaehyun x reader#jaehyun angst#jaehyun fluff#jaehyun smut#jaehyun fic#nct 127#nct 127 x reader#jeong jaehyun#nct jaehyun x reader#nct x reader#nct 127 fanfic#kaleidohscopic works
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like you! (n. rk)
synopsis your bestfriend that you've always bickered with suddenly.. starts to appear.. more.... attractive? genre frenemies to lovers, comedy, romance, fluff, reader sucks at her studies, riki sucks too but he's smarter, reader and riki bickers like.. a lot.., riki and reader is lowkey like risa and otani from lovely complex, friend group goes on a trip together, jealousy, slight miscommunication, riki surprises reader a lot, New Years (eve), countdown and fireworks rahh, both of them get worked up so easily lols, reader's parents are mad chill, confessions, so much fucking teasing, not proofread (yet) pairing nishimura riki x f!reader featuring jake, jungwon, sunghoon, sunoo (all are the same age/grade) word count ~11.1k warnings not much, lots of insults ig?, please lmk if i missed out on anything cly's note i do nawt know why i left this draft dusting when it literally had so much POTENTIAL. this is probs my fave fic cos i enjoyed writing it so much. unfortunately there are certain parts that i half-assed but hopefully they arent that obvious. THIS FIC IS SO CUTE hope yall enjoy it. AND i made a playlist for this too so ill post it soon. okay gn guys.
show your support by liking, reblogging and commenting! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა
now playing i like u — niki | [playlist]
"In your face, loser!" you laughed out, pointing at Ni-ki who was now pouting at you. With the Wii controller in your hand, you shook the console around to make your in-game character continuously swing their racket.
That's right.
You were playing Wii Sports out of all things even if your exams were nearing.
Sulking at his loss, he sat himself down on the couch beside Jaeyun who was enjoying everything and released a loud sigh for you to hear. Still celebrating your victory by laughing and jumping around, you took a moment to glance at Ni-ki, who could be seen glaring at you. You stuck your tongue out at him and he simply rolled his eyes.
"Y/N won again?" Sunghoon spoke up, entering the living room from the kitchen with Jungwon by his side. Ni-ki scoffed. and you simply felt your ego get boosted from Sunghoon's words. You turned your body to Sunghoon, both hands resting on your hips as you loudly replied, "That's right!".
"Ni-ki lost 3 times in a row" Jaeyun teased, earning a hard slap from Ni-ki causing him to yelp loudly and rub the area where he got smacked from, "Ouch..".
You giggled at the sight of Ni-ki being salty, and you pointed the console at him, "Rematch?".
Ni-ki flipped his head up towards you, his expression displeased as he responded, "So you can beat me again? Not happening".
You whined at him and Jungwon chuckled, sitting himself beside Jaeyun who was still gently rubbing his arm from the hit.
"Don't forget that there's still work to do," Jungwon voiced out, earning a groan from you as you remembered the work you have yet to finish.
"Just one more rematch!" you pleaded, turning your head back to Ni-ki who was now scrolling on his phone. "Ki," your tone sounding serious and he sighed before setting his foot to the floor and standing up. "Just one more."
Spoiler alert, you won again.
Before you knew it, you were scribbling on your homework. You let out a soft sigh, sitting back on your chair as you glanced around. In front of you revealed Sunghoon, Jaeyun and Jungwon typing on their laptops, remaining completely silent. To your right was Ni-ki, who also seemed completely focused at the work at hand.
You poked your tongue against your cheek, thoughts to just abandon your work and play again filling your head. Your face lit up and you turned your head to Ni-ki to ask him to play again until you noticed the frown on his face while doing his work.
You scanned his features, noticing his black hair being rested nicely on his forehead, partially covering his eyes. Your eyes shifted over to his ears, noticing his piercings that you never took the chance to see up-close. One helix and one earlobe piercing. His jawline looking sharper than usual, and prominence of his Adam's apple. He had always complained that he disliked his left side, but for some reason, you found it pleasing to look at.
Woah, he's actually kinda good looking.. When did he look this attractive?
You quickly slapped yourself, a loud sound emitting through the room, earning you a mix of concerned and confused expressions from the rest.
"Have you gone mental or something?" Ni-ki scoffed, clearly judging you. You rolled your eyes and looked back at the papers that were nicely laid on the table in front of you.
"I think Biology's driving her insane," Jaeyun teased and you stuck your tongue out at him. You brushed the thoughts you had of Ni-ki away. Jaeyun was probably correct, right? It was just Biology driving you insane?
You groaned before you look back at Ni-ki, glancing at his papers to see what he was working on.
"Ki, you're doing Biology too, right? Help me out." you leaned closer to Ni-ki, looking at the contents of the papers he was doing. It was indeed the same paper as yours, and you faced him, giving him a pleading look.
He raised an eyebrow at you and leaned backwards on his chair, folding his arms, "Why should I help you?".
Your jaw slightly dropped as you scowled at him, "Don't tell me you're still salty?".
"Oh. No more help then." he stated, his body turning back as he continued writing on his paper. You groaned as you continued to keep your gaze on him, watching as he scribbles on his paper.
You slowly lean closer to him, attempting to see his answers but he notices your antics and scoffed at you, leaning forward and using his body to prevent you from looking. You rolled your eyes and you sat back on your chair, releasing a sigh of defeat.
Few minutes pass by and you try to keep your attention on your homework, having to re-read the question multiple times due to your mind drifting away while reading. You glanced over at Ni-ki again, and he was no longer blocking you from seeing his work.
It didn't work when you tried to see his work, so why not take it from him..?
You couldn't help but to smirk at the clever idea you thought of, slowly leaning towards him before snatching the paper from him. He immediately let out a loud gasp and snapped his head at you, attempting to snatch it back from you.
You laughed out loud as you turned your back to him, trying to read all of his answers before he manages to snatch his work back. Ni-ki kept trying to snatch it but your back was facing him, making it impossible for him, and as you were about to finish reading his answers, he stood behind you, his body hovering over yours and his arms taking his paper back into his hands from both sides.
Your giggles slowly start to die down as you look behind you, noticing the close proximity between you and Ni-ki. His back was pressed up all against you, and his face were mere inches away from yours, and as you felt your heart skip a beat, you immediately pushed him away.
"Seriously? You steal my paper and now you push me away?" he grumbled, glaring at you before sitting back on his chair. Your mind quickly recalled the proximity you and Ni-ki had just a few seconds ago, causing your heart rate to pick up the pace and blood to rush to the tip of your ears.
You shot a displeased look at him, retorting back, "It's not that hard to share your answers!". He simply rolled his eyes and continued to do his work after sitting back down. There were a few giggles from the others, clearly enjoying the bickering that was happening in front of them, it was like their form of entertainment, but afterwards the room grew silent again.
The silence helped you to realise the pace your heart was beating at, your chest feeling like it was going to burst. You blink repetitively, feeling confused as to why you were feeling that way. You once again recalled the moment when you and Ni-ki was at close proximity, causing your breathing accelerated and your face to feel hot.
What was this feeling? Why were you feeling this way? Why does it feel so weird..?
You cleared your throat as you took a waterbottle in front of you into your hands, gulping it down in hopes to make this unusual feeling go away before you heard another loud voice again.
"That's mine!" Ni-ki's voice called out again, and you quickly gain back consciousness, glancing at the bottle you were holding and confirming that it was, indeed, Ni-ki's bottle before you gasp and quickly place it down on the table. You looked at Ni-ki with widened eyes, your eyes blinking repetitively in confusion as he flashed you another disapproving look.
"Seriously, what's going on with you today?" he grumbled and snatched his bottle, placing it to his side which was out of reach to you. He was right though, what was going on with you today? You pouted, feeling guilty as you tried to think about all the reasons why you acted that way. "Sorry.." you apologised.
"That's a first." Ni-ki stated, his tone remaining strict as you rolled your eyes at his sarcastic comment. You looked up at the boys sat in front of you and realised all 3 of them were watching you and Ni-ki, giggling at you two were bickering.
It wasn't new that you and Ni-ki bichered, but it never failed to be entertaining. "Gosh, 3 of you, just do your work." you said, shaking your head and giving them an annoyed look.
You sat back on your chair, staring into blank space and completely disregarding the loud environment around you as conversations emerged from all corners of the room. You hated how majority of the conversations were about Biology, especially since the exams were coming up. The fact that you have to hear it even before class gave you a major headache, and it immediately brought your energy level down.
"Someone's already unhappy," a voice spoke out, sounds of the chair beside you being dragged as you noticed a figure sit themselves down beside you. You turned to the figure and realised it was Ni-ki. The smug expression plastered all over his face didn't go unnoticed by you, giving you the desire to remove that expression from his face with your own hands. "Someone's already being a nuisance," you shot back.
He chuckled, enjoying how it was clearly evident that you were ticked off. "Did you manage to get that paper done?" he questioned, but it came off as a taunt to you. "Oh shut up.." you rolled your eyes.
He chuckled before leaning in closer to you, "Don't want the answers?". Your face lit up and you turned your body to him, completely sold to the idea of him giving the answers to you. "Please!" you begged, holding your hands up with your palms against each other.
The corner of his mouth curved up, realising how much power he has in this situation, and he folded his arms while slouching onto the chair, "You can't just get things for free, right?". You looked at him in disbelief. Was he seriously going to play like this?
The thought of smacking him and arguing with him again seemed ideal, but you actually needed the answers, so for once you gave in. "What do you want?".
"How about..." Ni-ki dragged his words, holding his chin as he looked at the ceiling to think. You felt yourself growing impatient as he continued to hum.
"A kiss on the cheek?" "HUH?!"
Your face instantly grew red, your mouth agape as you looked at him with widened eyes. Your heart rate could be felt increasing, and it felt almost as if your chest was going to burst. You blinked at him repetitively in confusion, and he looked at you with a confused expression from your loud reaction.
Ni-ki cleared his throat, "I.. was just joking..". He scratched his neck and looked away, clearly not expecting your reaction and only now realising his joke.
"The c-cafe! Treat me to the cafe later, got it?!" he pointed at you, the apples of his cheek slightly tinted with a hint of pink. Still in a state of shock, you slowly nodded and he could be seen taking out the paper from his bag, loudly placing it down on your table before going on his phone and scrolling, so obviously feeling awkward at the situation.
You slowly took your eyes off of him, pushing your chair in and straightening your posture before you started to copy his answers. Your hands were quite wobbly as you read Ni-ki's answers and wrote it down, but the moment from a few seconds ago not failing to stay in your head. Why would he ask such a question?
Right after the class, he immediately dashed out without uttering a word, leaving you in a state of shock. Yesterday you were out of it and today was his turn. You scoffed as you took your own time to pack your stuff since you didn't have a noisy being that was usually nagging at you to quicken up.
The classroom started to quitetten down as students start to leave to have their lunch. As you hung your bag around your shoulder, you probably like the 4th last person to leave. You huffed out, feeling irritated at the thought that Ni-ki just left you alone without saying a word, and you immediately started walking out of the classroom.
He wants to leave you stranded? Okay. Fine. You won't find him until he finds you like a helpless puppy. He wants to play like this? Sure.
You had finished grabbing a packet of bread from the cafeteria and immediately made your way to the benches, where you and Ni-ki always ate together until you heard voices at the front of the field.
"What do you think about her?".
The voices were muffled and you couldn't care less, continuing your way until you heard a familiar voice.
"What the hell are you talking about?!" the familiar voice sounded, their tone sounding flustered and irritated.
You immediately stop your tracks and held your breath, focusing on hearing their conversation and interested in the juicy details.
"Who else, Y/N of course!"
Your heart immediately stopped hearing your name, your eyes widening and your jaw dropping all at once.
Now you must really listen and get all the juicy details about your maybe.. secret admirer. You were still flabbergasted but you immediately recovered, wanting to see who was talking about you. You hid behind a bush, peeking your head out just so you could see who they were.
Your eyes squint as you try to make out who it was and.. oh....
"She's weird as hell, 'kay?! She's always been weird but lately, it's just- more!" Ni-ki ranted, his entire face sour as he spoke about her.
Your chest tightened and your stomach felt queesy as you learn how Ni-ki talked about you behind your back. Typically, you'd barge into the conversation by now and punch Ni-ki for shit talking you like that, but this time you felt different.
This time you'd wish that he'd talk nicely about you for once.
You'd stealthily leave, not wanting to hear more of their conversation as your entire mood shifted. You'd found acquintances back in the cafeteria and lucky enough, they were kind to let you eat with them. Everyone was a bit skeptical because you weren't with Ni-ki as usual, but they remained silent, sensing the tension.
You wanted to run away and go home immediately, but here you were, sitting in the cafe just as you promised Ni-ki earlier. He didn't give you a chance to run away since he immediately grabbed your wrist before you could make a move. You wanted to excuse yourself but he brought up the fact he did a favour for you by letting you copy him — hence, you couldn't just run away.
He sat down across you, setting a tray with only his drink since you refused to get a drink of your own, not wanting to get comfortable with him. Your irritated expression didn't go unnoticed, and when you glared at him then rolled your eyes, he immediately snapped back.
"What's your problem?"
You scoffed, smirking as you rolled your eyes again. "What's my problem? I could ask you the same".
"Dude, I literally have no clue what you're talking about—" "Oh, like remember how you just left me in the classroom?"
He seemed a bit stunned, but there was this guilty look on his face.
"Okay I'm sorry for tha—" "Or when you called me 'weird as hell'? I'm sorry that I've been weirder lately!" you interrupted, your tone sarcastic. "You heard that?!" "Well no shit I heard you talk behind my back proudly!"
His tensed up face relaxed slightly. "Wait, that's all you heard?"
"Well what else was I supposed to hear?! What else about me were you planning to insult? My face, huh?"
He heaved a sigh of relief, "Thank God..".
"Excuse me? What the fuck are you thanking God for?" "No! I-" he seemed loss for words. "It's not like that, okay? Just- forget about it". "You're unbelievable," you sighed loudly, taking his drink and sipping from it, looking out the window and missing his flustered expression.
He knew you wouldn't talk to him unless he lit your mood up immediately, so he suggested a solution within a snap. "I'll pay. Order your own drink, I'll pay".
Your eyes immediately lit up at his suggestion, your eyes suddenly filled again with so much life.
"Even for your drink?" "Even for my drink."
You licked your lips and after you set his drink down on the table, you pointed your finger at him. "You.. Next time you talk shit about me, say it to my face, kay?!".
He nodded, not wanting to anger you further. "Okay, fine". He sheepishly watched you, mumbling in a soft voice, "Sorry..".
You puffed your cheeks at him and pouted, your heart fluttering as you saw his guilty expression. Oh my god, it was that feeling again. You snapped your neck the other direction and brushed him off, "Whatever".
You clasped your hands together, feeling elated. "Exams are finally over!" you announced, earning cheers and claps from the others. You jumped onto the couch beside Jaeyun and immediately got comfortable, a wave of relief washing over you — no more thinking about grades, exams, studies at least for a while.
"Guys, we have to do something," Jaeyun suggested, leaning forward while steepling his hands, looking at everyone as he invited for hangout ideas.
"Arcade!" Jungwon recommended. "We already do that," Ni-ki shot. "Camping?" Sunghoon voiced. "Yeah nah, no way," Jake answered with slight fear in his voice. "How 'bout swimming?" Jake recommended. Ni-ki frowned and shook his hands, "We should do something that isn't some one-day thing".
"A trip". You slammed your hands on your thighs and stood up, "A trip. Staycation. How 'bout that?"
Everyone looked at each other and nodded in agreement, an expression of amusement taking over. Ni-ki teased, "You're finally using your head for once, huh?".
You raised your fist and you shot a glare, earning a giggle from Ni-ki. Jake ignored the two of you, "Should we invite other people?".
Jungwon who sat beside Jake nudged his shoulder and smirked, "Like.. that girl friend group you kept eyeing?".
Jake's eyes immediately widen, and he started to shake his head and wave his hands, "N-no!". He denies it but everyone can see through him from the way the tip of his ears turns red.
You rested your arms on your hips and looked at Jake, giving him a doubtful look. Everyone else followed suit, their expressions filled with doubtfulness and mockery. Jake, out of peer pressure, confessed, "Okay, yes, fine! I do mean them".
Everyone snickered in victory, enjoying his flustered state.
You teased, "Invite them — the more the merrier, right?".
Walking into the resort, you let out a sound of amusement as you take in the view. There was a swimming pool and a jacuzzi side by side, a big kitchen and stairs leading to the second and third floor, probably where all the sleeping rooms were. There was a beach near your resort, making this place the paradise for everyone.
Someone nudged your shoulder and your head snapped up, seeing the iconic mischevious smile on Ni-ki's face. Your chest tightened at how close he was, but you cleared your throat then glared at him.
"One day, I'll kill you," you threatened and he simply laughed. He patted your head making you hitch your breath, "You can try". Your cheeks heated up slightly, and you stuck your tongue out at him.
"Huaah! No way!" Jake cheered as he entered later than you, breaking the banter between you and Ni-ki. You looked back and grinned, feeling proud about your friend's success.
"This shit's amazing, thank God you invited us Jake!" Sabrina gazed into Jake's eyes, a bright smile plastered all over her face.
You glanced back at Ni-ki, both of you giving a knowing gaze at each other and chuckling together. You stopped as you entered the building, checking out the place. Your eyes eventually wander back to Ni-ki and you gulped, feeling nervous that you were on a trip with him.
For some reason, a part of you wanted you to grab his hand to hold him, and the thought of it was torturing you because your heart wanted to explode and you also didn't want to make things weird. You bit your lip as your eyes stared at his hand, and just as you were about to reach out, Ni-ki was nudged forward by someone clinging to his side.
"Ni-ki! Doesn't this place look great?" Nao exclaimed as she held onto his arms, giving him puppy eyes. You immediately pulled your hand back, biting your lips as you realise your chance had slipped away.
"Mm, yeah it does," Ni-ki responds, smiling at her and making you feel awkward, making you puff up your cheeks. You almost felt like you were the third wheel, so you immediately turned around, in hopes that there would be someone to talk to — and to your luck, there was a wandering Sunoo.
You immediately walked up to him and conversed with him, trying to ignore Nao and Ni-ki.
Throughout the entire day, Nao and Ni-ki sticked together, and the bare thought of it made you feel queesy in the stomach.
Whatever. He must be happier with her, right?
During dinner, you sat beside Sunoo, but for some reason, you were laughing more, giggling more, playfully slapping Sunoo more as you two talked. You didn't usually act like this, and it was making you puzzled. And for some reason, you kept eye-ing Nao and Ni-ki, trying to see how they were going and also wishing on their downfall.
You didn't know why you were suddenly acting weird. Probably because this was your first proper trip with your friends, right?
Throughout the entire night, though you kept taking glances at Nao and Ni-ki, everytime Ni-ki wanted to talk or get close to you, you came up with an excuse every single time, saying that you need to talk to Sunoo, or use the toilet or whatever.
You felt irritated at him, feeling the urge to just slap him, but you also didn't know why. You knew he had a punchable and slappable face, but this urge was uncalled for.
Luckily for you, you had a 100% rate in avoiding him. You sighed as you pulled the covers up to your face, staring at the ceiling of the dark room. Dozing off was what you wanted, but your mind was racing with thoughts.
Was Nao a better best friend than you? Is she more fun? Does he like her more?
You screamed into your pillow and kicked your legs, feeling overstimulated by all these thoughts. You threw your head onto the pillow, closing your eyes. Lucky for you, you got room to yourself so you could do this all you wanted.
With your face on the pillow, you tried to focus on your breathing and clear your mind until you heard your door click. You immediately froze as if you'd been caught doing a crime and you held your breath.
You'd thought that it was a burglar who broke in and was targetting you, so when you felt a tap on your shoulder, you flipped yourself to your back and screamed.
The person immediately panicked at your scream, using their hand to cover your mouth. "What's wrong with you?!" a familiar voice complained.
You stop screaming as you realise the person was someone you knew, and you try to make out their features until you realise..
"Do you want to wake the rest or what?!" Ni-ki whisper-shouted.
You immediately calmed down, looking into Ni-ki's eyes. When you processed that Ni-ki was actually here, you suddenly realise how close he was. How he was slightly hovering over you, covering your mouth with his hand and how close his face was.
At the moment of realisation, you pushed him away by instinct, causing his butt to hit the floor. "Ow! What was that for?!" he whisper-shouted once again.
"You were too close!" you replied, also whisper-shouting. You could hear ruffling sounds as he stood back on his feet, supporting himself with his arm as he hovered over the bed to look at you, "You're such a dimwit, you know that?".
"God, do you ever have anything nice to say?" you rolled your eyes, but he didn't catch it because of the darkness.
He sighed as he held himself back from arguing with you. He inhaled as he spoke up, "You and me, let's go".
Confusion took over your face as you try to process his question. You sat up on the bed as you looked up at him. "What are you talking about?'".
"Just- follow me, damnit!" he held your hand as he tugged your arm, signalling you to get off the bed and follow him.
You pursed your lips as you felt his hand holding yours, and you get off the bed, allowing him to drag you.
The house was dark, the area only being lit up from the light of the street light entering through the windows. He was bringing you down the stairs, still holding onto your hand and you pouted your lips.
This was a weird experience, but you weren't complaining.
Since it was dark, you couldn't really see, and you missed a step causing you to slip. Ni-ki immediately turned around and caught you, "Woah there!".
Your arms were rested against his chest as he had his hands on your waist to give you support. "Are you okay?" he asked. and you were almost surprised that he wasn't insulting you or saying anything like "Are you blind?".
You looked down, "Yeah.. Sorry".
You both stepped back, and you almost wished you didn't say anything because you enjoyed his warmth so much, but before you could regret anything, he held your hand again and continued to drag you, being more slow and cautious to prevent anymore falls.
Your heart was beating so fast it could almost jump out of your heart. You could hear your own pulse in your ears and you were thankful that it was dark, because you could physically feel your face heat up.
As he dragged you near the entrance of the resort, you two put on your slippers and he brought you out. You two are immediately met with the cool wind of the night, the wind blowing your hair.
None of you said anything, secretly enjoying each other's presence though you two wouldn't admit it.
You clenched your fist as you grew more nervous. You weren't nervous that Ni-ki was going to kill you or whatever — you were nervous because it was just him. Just him and you, and you two were holding hands. His pace hastened up, almost like he had a clear destination in his head, and you simply followed, not wanting to say anything in fear of making things awkward.
You took more steps, unsure where you were going but you trusted him. You continued walking until you felt the texture of the ground you were walking on change, sand immediately getting on your feet and slippers.
He continued to drag you, the sound of the ocean waves becoming clearer and the view of the water coming closer. The moonlight made the ocean look so pretty, and this was a view you loved so much.
"Check this out," he finally spoke, breaking the silence between the two of you. He continued, "You mentioned once you wanted to see the ocean in the beach in the middle of the night..".
He cleared his throat, continuing further, "So here we are".
You remained silent, completely moonstruck by the view as you watched how the waves flowed, and hearing your silence, he was about to nag you for not thanking him until he saw your dazed look. He sighed, taking your dazed look as a 'thank-you', "You're welcome".
"You remembered," "What?" "You remembered that I said that.."
He smiled, "Why else would I bring you here?".
"You have good memory huh? For someone who has a small brain," you teased, giggling.
"Okay, sure, whatever," he rolled his eyes.
You continued, "Gosh, do you really have good memory?".
"Duh! I'm smart!" he boasted.
"Then what did I say to you when we first met?" "You called me all the vulgarities God knew. What a foul mouth you have," he sighed, looking at the waves as he reminicsed.
"You remember that too? I remember you couldn't even tell me how you and Sunghoon met, y'know?!".
"Me and Sunghoon just happened, 'kay?! Besides, I remember important things only," he muttered.
You raised your eyebrows, warmth filling your chest, "Are you calling me important?".
Ni-ki scoffed, "Don't flatter yourself".
You'd ended up telling Sunoo everything. From when you realised you felt weird about him, to how he brought you to see the waves last night. You almost exploded bottling everything up, but you felt like you could trust him, so you told him everything. He listened earnestly, willing to give you advice.
"From this, I feel like.."
You looked at him attentively, anticipating to his words.
"You like him. Love even," he broke the news and you shouted in shock, causing him to cover your mouth with his hands.
"No way! Me?! Loving that dork?! As if!" you denied as he lowered his hands, feeling your cheeks heat up as you grew more irritated for an unknown reason.
"You can believe what you wanna — but you definitely love him".
You pouted as your chest tightened, the weird feeling coming in again as you thought about him.
You? Loving Ni-ki?
I dunno...
Maybe.
Loud conversation and laughter filled the room as everyone sat in a circle, a glass bottle in the centre spinning. Everyone exclaimed in suspense, watching the bottle slow down till it eventually lands on Nao.
"Nao!" everyone called, and you pursed your lips, your gaze looking at Ni-ki to see how he reacted to Nao being called. He was smiling brightly as he watched her, making your heart crack a bit.
"Nao, truth or dare!" Sabrina asked.
"Err, I'm not ready yet... so truth for now!" Nao answered.
Jake immediately shot with the basic question, "Do you have a crush on anyone?".
She looked hesitant to answer, but she eventually did.
"Yes".
Upon hearing her response, everyone started a teasing chant towards her, making her cheeks go red. You were staring at Ni-ki, knowing that he was probably the one that she liked until he looked back at you.
You immediately broke eye contact, feeling awkward as you tried to pretend like you weren't just staring at him. Nao nervously glanced at him before she spinned the bottle in the middle.
Everyone exclaimed again in suspense, watching the bottle speed up and slow down, and it eventually stops on..
You.
Oh no.
"Y/N! Truth or dare!" Jungwon asked this time, and you gave a weak smile.
"Truth".
Nao shot without wasting a second, "Do you like anyone in this room right now?".
The question caught you off-guard, making you cough on your saliva as you looked around to see everyone's curious gazes on you. You'd caught a bit of Ni-ki's calm behaviour, feeling scared that if you answered you'd somehow reveal your feelings for him.
You nervously looked at Sunoo, and he gave you a reassuring nod, silently encouraging you.
"Y-yeah, yes I do".
Everyone in the room cheered. Everyone except you, Sunoo who already knows who it is, Nao who has a gist and also Ni-ki himself.
"Flip up your papers now and see what number you got! There will be another person in the room who got the same number and you two would have to spend New Years Eve together!" Jake announced.
You did so, and you saw a big "4". You looked around the room, seeing everyone's reaction to their numbers.
Jake continued, "Nuh uh, but no saying what number you got! Breaks the surprise, y'know?!".
Everyone groaned and started to complain, and you simply remained quiet, only hoping that you didn't get Nao.
But obviously you were wishing for one person.
You folded your arms, tapping your feet as you stared into blank space, the loud atmospehre of the streets keeping you awake as you waited for your partner. Jake had announced meeting areas for the specific numbers, and right now you were just patiently waiting until the other person who got "4" arrived.
You heard footsteps approaching you from behind, and before you turned around, you mentally prayed to every god that is wasn't Nao. You inhaled and held your breath, turning your body around to reveal who it was.
"Y/N?" Sunoo called, his eyebrows slightly raising, and though there was a part of you that felt disappointed, you also felt relieved that it was Sunoo out of all people.
"Sunoo?" you smiled, feeling thankful. You sputtered out an obvious question, "What are you doing here?".
He replied, "Well, someone needed help coming here because he insisted he'd get 'lost'".
Your eyebrows raised in confusion at his answer, not knowing what he meant as you heard more footsteps behind Sunoo. You peeked over Sunoo's shoulder and saw Ni-ki walking towards the two of you. Your eyes widened and you immediately straightened yourself.
You whisper-shouted, "Are you for real? He's my partner?!".
He gave you a smug look, "Have fun", then leaning into your ear, "Make the most out of it".
Your face immediately redenned and you pushed Sunoo away, earning chuckles from him as he stepped away and centred himself between you and Ni-ki, who set to a stop in front of you.
"Here's your location, and your partner," Sunoo announced, looking at Ni-ki.
Ni-ki was staring at you, probably feeling as stunned as you. "You're telling me I have to spend my New Years with this.. dork?!".
"Excuse me?! You're the even bigger dork!" "Says the one who almost woke everyone up a while ago!".
Your bickering was instantly placed to a halt when Sunoo firmly grasped each of your shoulders, leaning forward and speaking in an almost.. threatening tone. "I'm not responsible for any of you if you two die or end up in a situation".
You two gulped as you felt the tension in Sunoo's voice, not wanting to irritate him further. You froze as if the sound of your breathing could annoy him. Seeing that the two of you complied after a period of silence, he released the grip on your shoulders and flashed an innocent smile, almost as if he didn't threaten the two of you just a second ago.
"Now I have to find my partner and I might be late because of a certain someone," Sunoo shot a glare at Ni-ki, who was awkwardly avoiding eye contact and scratching his neck.
His smile returned and he greeted before leaving, "Okay, bye guys!".
When Sunoo left, the two of you were left in a state of shock.
"That dude's kinda scary...." Ni-ki commented, his facial expression as if he had just seen a ghost. "Y-yeah.. I never knew he was like that," you added on, feeling slightly traumatised.
You'd hope that the normal you was out, being able to converse with him before you discovered the fact that you had feelings for him, but luck wasn't on your side. You were constantly thinking through before you spoke, only saying the filtered out words, making you seem painfully awkward.
You two were holding ice cream that you bought from the food trucks at the side of the streets, and you both were walking side by side down the streets.
"Isn't this flavour great?" Ni-ki questioned. "Y-yeah. Love it," you stammered, mentally cursing yourself for it as you bit your lip.
Ni-ki stopped and sighed, making you stop walking as well.
"Are you kidding me?" he shot and you immediately felt confused.
"I literally got you vanilla. The flavour you hated? And you didn't even curse me out, or even point it out?! Now you're saying you love it?" Ni-ki ranted, obviously feeling over it with your unusualness.
You immediately snap back to reality and look at your ice cream cone, and eventually confirmed that it was vanilla, and you indeed had a strong hatred for vanilla. You immediately screamed and drop your ice cream cone, the ice cream splattering on the ground and your gaze averted to him with widened eyes.
"Gosh, are you finally back?" he squatted down and picked up your cone, taking out tissues from his sling bag to clean up your mess as much as he can. You remained silent, afraid that anything you said would've given you away.
He'd finished up cleaning your mess as he stood back up, looking at you with a sour expression as he held up your dropped ice cream cone and the dirty tissues that were soaked in vanilla ice cream. You nervously glanced away and he only sighed.
"Was I not the partner you wanted? Is that why you're like this?".
"Absolutely not!" you shot back immediately. "It's just.." you tried to find words to explain yourself without giving yourself away, "you look really ugly right now".
He scoffed, but instead of continuing the banter with him, he only sighed and patted your head, "There she is, welcome back".
You looked into his eyes and saw his soft gaze, causing your heart to skip a beat. You immediately frowned and sucked one side of your cheek, turning your body away from him. "You're so annoying".
"And you're weird as fuck. This is exactly why I 'shit-talked' you that day," he giggled.
"Hey! That was really mean!"
It was about an hour left before the New Years, and you'd eventually relaxed around Ni-ki, returning back to your usual self though there was this lingering feeling that made your chest tighten that you tried to brush away desperately.
You noticed Ni-ki to your right looking at the city lights, admiring the view as a big smile was plastered across his face. You softly smiled to yourself, pulling out your phone camera before snapping a photo of him, not realising that your phone would've made a loud 'click!' sound. Ni-ki immediately snaps his neck towards you, realising your antics as you immediately giggle and turn your back on him, making it harder for him to get your phone.
"Hey! That was my bad side!" he whined, trying to grab the phone from you, and you only looked at the photo in awe as you continue giggling, enjoying his reactions.
"What're you talking about? You look really handsome here," you commented, not realising you said that out loud. He was immediately shunned, not believing his ears as you continued to analyse the photo. You continue, "Say, you've never had someone take these types of photos for you right?".
He immediately steps back, clearing his throat and trying to hide the blush on his cheeks, "Yeah, no.."
You looked up at him, "'Cause you never had a girlfriend, right?!".
He immediately rolled his eyes as you struck a sensitive part of his heart, his ego being slightly shattered as you bring up the fact. "Whatever," he brushed off.
"Wait, seriously?! I was joking, y'know?!"
"You've literally been my best friend my entire life how do you not know?"
"I've always seen girls hit on you and you hang out with them, y'know?! Were you not dating them?!".
"Do you see me hang out with them more than 2 times?!"
You were immediately silenced as you tried to recall the moments that he did hang out with the other girls, and no, he definitely did not hang out with any of them more than 2 times.
"That's right!" he continued, standing his point.
"I just assumed you kept it a secret 'cos you were shy and—"
"I never keep secrets!" he huffed out and you could tell me was more irritated than usual. "What about you, huh?! You have a crush on someone and you never told me?!"
"HUH?!?!" you yell out, thinking you were caught.
He continued, "Don't act dumb! During that truth or dare you admitted it!".
You sighed in relief, feeling thankful that he didn't catch on, "Thank God..".
"The fuck you thanking God for?!" he spat. You remained quiet as you observed him place his hands on his hips and take small steps in a circle to soothe his anger, "You're unbelievable".
A part of you was afraid, but a part of you wanted to confess. To express yourself. To tell him all your secrets. But you were so afraid that you'd ruin everything. You were so afraid that he wouldn't feel the same way and reject you.
But, the part of you wanting to confess became bigger, seeing how he was so desperate to find out who your crush was.
You closed your eyes and sighed, your heart thumping as you made your final decision. "I'll tell you on New Years".
"What?" his head immediately shot up.
"New Years. During the countdown. I'll tell you".
He scoffed, "Finally, you're being a decent human being for once".
"Says you?!" you immediately felt taken aback, placing your fists in a fighting stance, ready to punch him and almost regretting that this was the very person that you loved.
There was 5 minutes until the New Years, and you two were sitting on a bench at the park, patiently waiting until it was time. You sat there, feeling like your heart was going to explode as you come to a realisation that you were going to confess. Confess your feelings to your very best friend, and you were enjoying his company before it could all possibly change for the worst.
You kicked your legs in the air, leaning forward as your palms layed flat on the bench, blowing out air from your puffed out cheeks as you tried to calm yourself down.
It was gonna be okay, right? It's just a simple 'I like you', right?
"Y'know you can just say it now, right?" Ni-ki complained.
"Shut up!" you snapped, wishing you liked someone more tolerable like Sunoo. You commented, "You're so annoying, and I hope you know that".
"Thanks for the constant reassurance, Y/N, I hear that from you everyday," he scoffed.
You two continued to banter until he interrupted you, "Shut up! The countdown is starting!".
You choked out, not being ready to confess your very feelings.
"10.. 9.."
Fuck fuck fuck, you weren't ready!
"8.. 7.."
Fuck it. Fuck it!
"6.. 5.."
You didn't even have time to plan how you were going to say it!
Y'know what?
"4.. 3.." you chanted alongside with him, "Actually, y'know what? Fuck it! I like you!".
And as you finished your sentence, the fireworks immediately went off, the bright colours lighting up the dark sky. Loud cheers and celebrations that can be heard from the city near your park and you simply sighed, feeling the weight in your chest finally being released after God-knows-how-long. You stared at the fireworks, watching how it explodes, splits to smaller sparks, feeling his gaze at you.
"Ni-ki, look, the fireworks".
"You mean that?" he asked out of the blue, his tone serious as you turned to look at him. His face was stern and unreadable. You couldn't tell if he was happy, or disgusted, or whatever.
"What do you think? You think I say that for fun?" your tone was light and fun, feeling relieved you finally let it out. "Just answer the question, damnit!" he snarled, making you feel taken-aback.
"Okay, yes, fine! I like you! I said it. I mean it. What, are you not happy? What, are you gunna reject me, huh?!" you spilled out your thoughts as you snapped back at him, feeling irritated that he was reacting this way. What was his deal?!
He sighed and leaned back on the bench. "Do you ever wonder why I haven't dated any of the girls you mentioned?".
"C'mon, if you're gunna reject me just directly say—" "Because I like you!"
Features of shock immediately took over your face, not believing what you were hearing. He.. liked.. you?
"I liked you the entire damn time! Even before we became close, okay?!" he ranted, his voice sounding desperate as he confessed to you.
"Remember that time I was 'shit-talking' you in the field?! Thankfully you missed out on the part where I said I liked you!" he continued, his anger spilling out.
You couldn't believe what you were hearing. He liked you. He liked you back. He felt the same way about you. You were silent as you stared at him feeling apalled. Finding all of this amusing and not knowing how to respond, you broke into a soft chuckle.
"What's so funny?! What, now are you rejecting me?!"
"Dork," you teased.
"What?" "You're a dork. A dork for me," you teased further and you watched as his face grew red.
"You never know how to shut your mouth!"
This was the last thing you expected, but the best outcome that could've played out. You walked beside Ni-ki, hand in hand as you noticed the lively atmosphere of the crowd since it was the new year. He held your hand tightly and pulled you closer to him as you both try to make way through the crowd, instinctively guarding you as someone gets too close.
"Protective over me, huh?" you teased, enjoying how flustered he gets.
"I will literally leave you right here if you say another word," he shot a glare at you, the tips of his ears turning to a light shade of pink.
"It's okay, I like the way your hand feels on mine," you smirked, watching how he looks away and purses his lips, clearly trying to act nonchalant.
"Whatever you want," he clears his throat and straightens his posture, softly tugging at your hand before continuing to walk again.
As you two continued walking, you spotted another ice cream food truck and you immediately pulled on his hand, "Look, another ice cream truck!".
"Do you want another one?" he asked, knowing you'd already say yes.
"Yup!". At the sound of your approval, he was about to start walking to the truck but you stood in front of him.
"Nuh uh, I'll get this myself, I feel bad that you paid and cleaned up my ice crem earlier, so I'll do it," you insisted, feeling ashamed and not wanting to burden him further.
"No I'll—" "No. You stay." your voice fierce and stern, causing Ni-ki to nod in compliance and quietten down.
You smiled before patting his shoulder and making a turn for the truck.
He mumbled to himself, "God, is Sunoo and her siblings or something..?".
He folded his arms, tapping his feet as he looked around the area, subconsciously searching for your figure which was nowhere to be found. He sucked his inner cheek as he grew more nervous, wondering why you were taking so long to just get ice cream. He sighed as he started to make a move towards the ice cream shop, his eyes wandering in search for you but to no avail.
He slowly started to panic more, his pace hastening as he approached the ice cream truck owner, "Have you seen a beautiful girl in a black hoodie?".
"Oh, the lady who bought chocolate ice cream? Yeah she was—"
"Where is she?" Ni-ki tapped his feet repetitively, feeling the panic rise. The shop owner seemed slightly stunned, but raised his finger to point to a direction, "There, I think".
Ni-ki gave a quick nod and eyebrow raise before going to the said direction, constantly turning his head and bumping people in search for you. His breathing rate started to accelerate as he started overthinking about things that could've happened to you. He started to jog, and as soon as he was about to call out for you, he heard it.
Your laugh.
He turned his head to the same direction and he spotted you. In his eyes, it was almost like a spotlight was shone directly at you from the way his eyes focused on you and you only. Ni-ki stared at you with his jaw dropped as he watched you laugh to another girl, the melody of your laugh sounding like music to his ears.
He was rooted to his spot, completely in awe as his gaze was locked on you. You weren't even doing anything, you were just laughing, wearing your stupid black hoodie and being the dork you were, but it made his head spin.
If only you knew how you made him feel.
People bumped his shoulder, making their way past him and he simply stood there before you felt his stare and you turned around, forming eye contact through the crowd of people.
Your eyes crinkled while you beamed as you raised your hand, "Ni-ki! Over here!".
Ni-ki was immediately brought back to reality, his eyes wandering as he finally realised what was happening around him. He cleared his throat and made way to you and the other girl.
As he arrived, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and looked at the other girl. He frowned, finding her familiar as he leaned forward, trying to get a better look at her as he tried to recall where he saw her.
"Jake's girl?!" his jaw dropped and his head leaned forward as he felt flabbergasted that Sabrina was here as well.
"I-is that my nickname now?" Sabrina giggled, covering her mouth with her hand, finding the whole situation amusing. "Jake and I was here and I just so happened to spot Y/N," she continued.
"Is that Niks and Y/N?!" a voice emerged from behind Sabrina, and a guy's hand snaked around Sabrina's waist, revealing Jake who's hair was slightly messed up from how the wind was blowing.
"Jake!" you greeted, feeling ecstatic that there was more of you. You continued while giggling, "Happy New Year, lovebirds".
Jake broke eye contact and his gaze started wandering around, giving it away that he was flustered and Sabrina simply cackled, "We're not the only ones, right?". She eyed you and Ni-ki, her eyebrows wiggling as she observed how he pulled you close to him.
Ni-ki glanced at you to see how you'd respond and you immediately rolled your eyes, "This dumbass hasn't asked yet, but he's such a big dork for me".
He gasped, "Me? A dumbass AND a dork? Seriously you have something in your head!".
"You too have something in your head!" you shot back, "And it's me~".
"God, one day I'll tape your mouth shut!"
You and Ni-ki continued to bicker, and Jake and Sabrina looked at each other, exchanging smug and knowing looks and shrugged, knowing your whole situation and predicting everything from the start of the trip.
You jumped onto your bed, laying on your back as you stared at the ceiling. You'd return from the trip almost a week ago, and you thought that you could do more trips or have more outings with the rest but everyone else was busy. You shifted a pillow below your head, taking your phone from the edge of your bed and hoping to see that one name but to no avail.
Jungwon was tutoring students as a part time job. Sunghoon was working part time at a diner. Jake had other plans — well — with Sabrina. Sunoo was busy preparing for the next semester already.
And Ni-ki? There wasn't really a reason. At least not one of you could figure it out.
After processing that you and your best friend had taken the next step, everything started to kick in. You were afraid of what was going to happen. Was he going to ask you out? Will he keep things casual? Will you and him still be normal friends?
You didn't contact him at all, in hopes that he'd initiate first, but it was the same for him. No texts, no calls, not even invites to games or the arcade.
You were starting to regret everything. If you hadn't confessed, would you and him be how it was like?
Your mind flashed to the time he confessed.
'Because I like you! I liked you the entire damn time! Even before we became close, okay?!'
You flipped to your stomach and screamed to your pillow, feeling your heart race and your thoughts go everywhere. You couldn't stop thinking about him and it was driving you insane.
He did say he liked you back, but was he really being serious? Did he say that in the heat of moment or to please you? You didn't know. And the fact that you two weren't communicating was driving you nuts.
You exhaled, giving up trying to think things through and you slowly felt your sanity slip away. You were about to slip into unconsciousness until you heard loud knocks on your window. You froze, thinking that there was a burglar.
You pushed yourself off the bed, staring out of the dark window as your hand rummaged through your table, holding anything that could defend you which was apparently a hair straightener.
You slowly approached the window, taking quiet and cautious steps as you frowned, watching the window. You opened the window and saw a wild Ni-ki, causing you to yell but he immediately shut you up by slapping a small snip of tape on your mouth. It was almost as if he'd predicted this and prepared to shut you up.
You peered at him, remaining rooted to your bedroom floor as you froze, not knowing what to do and not being able to say anything.. literally.
You sighed and you relaxed, letting the hair straightener fall to your side and you rip out the tape from your mouth, slightly hissing from the rip. Lifting up the tape beside your face, "Seriously? Tape?".
He giggled, "I did say I'd shut you up with tape one time, did I not?".
You glared at him and he slowly peeked behind him, gripping onto the side of your window tighter, "C-can you let me in? I might fall any second..".
"I might just kick you".
He sat on your carpet, his legs crossed as you sat on the edge of your bed, your arms folded as you frowned your brows at him. "What're doing here, huh?" you interrogated him, his appearance being so sudden it almost irritated you.
"I wanted to see you," he replied honestly.
You waved your hands towarrds him, "No, nah, nuh-uh, don't give me that bullshit — it makes me nervous". You continued, "Don't you have a curfew?".
"Well, I can't get into trouble if my mom doesn't know I'm out, right?" he snickered, feeling like he was the coolest person in the world and you scoffed, rolling your eyes.
"You're ridiculous," you spat, pulling yourself in more towards the bed as you layed down, your back resting against the headboard. "What do you want? I know you're not just here to piss me off," you gnarled.
"Look, I know why you're pissed, okay? I came here to talk about it," he calmly informs you, his big doe eyes pleading you to cool off.
You remained silent for a second before you huffed out, sitting up straight. He requested, "Can you sit in front of me, please?".
You whined, trying to negotiate that you and him can just talk like this but he insisted, so you eventually requested, "Get on my bed".
He nods and he complies, sitting on your bed with his legs crossed, directly opposite of you. You stared at him, your arms folded. "So what now?".
"I mean everything I said," he suddenly spoke, catching you off-guard. "I've liked you before we became friends, up till now. I did tell my friend that I liked you on the field. I rejected every other girl and said that I liked you," he confessed.
You stared at him, struggling to find words to respond with. You bit your inner cheek, watching his vulnerable state.
"I'm sorry that I haven't contacted you, I know you must've had difficulties sleeping—" "Excuse you! You're flattering yourself! I would never lose sleep because of you!" you shot, but the two of you knew you were lying from how you had heavy eyebags even during break.
He rolled his eyes and held your face, causing you to wiggle back, "What're you—!" "What are these, then?" he caressed your eyebags with his thumb, tilting his head and looking at you with a soft gaze as he leaned in closer.
You pouted and huffed, looking away. "I hope you know you're selfish for being the reason I can't get any sleep," you mumbled, feeling sulky that he caught you.
The corners of his mouth dropped as he continued to caress you gently, "I'm sorry".
"You're apologising so much it's so weird," you mumbled, barely audible that Riki almost didn't catch it.
"I know, right?" he leaned back, his arms on the mattress and the warmth on your cheek disappearing, disappointment washing over you.
"So what? You apologise, then what?" you frowned, feeling impatient.
"Can you zip your mouth and let me do things how I envisioned it in my head?" he shot, his sassy side coming out again.
You giggled as you leaned backwards on your hands, looking at him and raising your eyebrows, "Okay, do things your way then. What did you plan to do now?".
He blurted, "This is the part where I ask you to be my—". You raised one eyebrow at him and he stopped himself. "Wait, no, I'm not supposed to tell you that. Wait, shit."
You burst out laughing at his awkwardness, his next move making this whole situation more hilarious. He checked his palm as if he had written his entire plan there.
"Don't tell me you wrote it on your palm? Lemme see!" you immediately crawled to him and grabbed his wrist, trying to see. "No! get away!" he resisted, trying to pull his hand back and prevent you from seeing it.
"No way! You actually did!" you read his palm as he eventually gave up trying to hide it. He sighed loudly and glared at you. You had the best laugh in the longest time, and his ego shattered more for each second it lasted.
Tears were forming from how hard you were laughing, your stomach starting to hurt, but through your tears you noticed his sulky expression, causing you to cool down and wipe your tears, "Okay I'm sorry, do whatever you wanna do next".
He rolled his eyes, before clearing his throat to shoot the question, "Y/N, will you—".
His speech was interrupted from you making a drum roll on your lap, and he simply stopped halfway into the speech, staring at you in disbelief and you cleared your throat, feeling guilty.
"Sorry".
"Gosh, I can't believe you're the one I like," he snarled, his expression annoyed.
Your stomach felt tingly at his comment, the corners of your mouth curling upwards.
"Y/N, will you pay for my gam—" "Yes!" you answered in excitement, but your smile immediately dropped realising what he actually asked.
It was his turn to snicker and you lifted your fist, threatening to punch him as he had his own laughing session.
"God, that was hilarious, Y/N will you be my girlfriend?" he asked in the midst of laughing, catching you off-guard as your jaw drops and you completely freeze.
He wiped his eyes then realised the state you were in, "C'mon, you already knew I was going to ask, what's the problem?".
"Well, duh! But I didn't know you'd just ask that so suddenly!" you complained, sulking that he asked when you leet your guard down. You demanded, "Ask again! But in a more serious tone!".
"You're a needy one, aren't you?" he commented as he shifted himself to be more comfortable and straightened his back. You look at him with a proud look, waiting for the question to come out.
"Y/N," he whispered, "Will you be my girlfriend?".
"YAY!!" a loud voice emerges from outside your room and someone falls into your room. You two immediately looked at your door, not knowing what the hell was going on and to your surprise, you saw your mom and dad.
"Honey! You didn't have to push me!" your dad complained, rubbing his hip as he layed on the floor.
"I got too excited, sorry honey!" your mom apologised as she clapped her hands and looked at the two of you.
Your turned your head to Ni-ki, your jaw remaining agape in disbelief and not feeling comfortable to do anything else. You turned your head back to your parents, "God! What's wrong with the 2 of you! It's literally—" your eyes flickered to your clock "1am! Aren't you guys supposed to be sleeping for work tomorrow?!".
You nagged at your parents for eavesdropping the conversation between you and Ni-ki and eventually managed to get them back to their rooms after lots of nagging and scolding. Your parents begged to listen but you stood your point and made them comply.
You dusted your hands as you returned to the spot you were sitting in front of Riki before you got interrupted by your parents. You sighed, "You can continue, I hope you didn't forget what to say next".
"I mean, it gave me more time to rehearse, but you haven't answered the question yet".
"What questio—" you asked, being forgetful after being so overwhelmed by your parents but immediately recalled it, "OHHHHH".
"You remember now, huh?" he mocked you.
You hummed, before requesting, "Ask again".
"Seriously? I already asked twice. Twice!"
"Third times a charm, right? And both times weren't good," you waved your hands at him, brushing him off and he scoffed.
"Gosh," he huffed. "For the last fucking time Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?" he put his hand on top of yours, trying to make the whole situation romantic despite how irritated he felt.
"Mmmm," you pretended to think to tease him, and as soon as you were about to continue teasing him..
"If you give me that 'I'll respond in a few business days' bullshit I'll literally kiss you," he threatened.
"Oh..? But what if I want that kiss?" you smirked, challenging him.
"God, you're so fucking annoying," he muttered before cupping your cheeks and leaning in, smashing both of your lips together. He got you again when you lowered your guard, but instead of pushing him away, you simply lived in the moment.
Your heart was racing from how you were literally kissing your best friend, and you immediately kissed him back.
The kiss was soft and gentle at first, his movements slow as if he was testing the waters but his passion grew as his kiss eventually became more passionate, his hands lowering to your waist to pull you closer to him. His nose nudged yours, and one of his hands was brought up to your face, tilting your head to give him more access.
Your mind went blank as you melted into the kiss, never wanting this kiss to end as you finally felt like you won in life. Your hands gripped his shirt tightly, attempting to pull him impossibly closer.
As you both grew breathless, he eventually pulled back, his eyes directly staring into yours.
"Still need a few business days to decide?" he asked as he tried to catch his breath.
"No need, 'cos my answer's yes," you gave in, finally making things official. He huffed and pulled you into a hug, feeling all his anger for you slip away. "Look, on a serious note, I feel like I'm not good enough for you, but I'll be better for you, I promise," he pulled away, holding your shoulders and grinning at you.
"You're soo romantic, y'know?" you sarcastically remarked, a light smile on your face, "You come to my house in the middle of the night, spilling your heart out to me after we haven't spoken for like a week".
"At least I'm fun and different, 'kay?" he defended himself, his hands in the air like he was surrendering.
"Whatever, dork," you giggled, scooching closer to him.
"Your dork?" he rested his hands on your waist as he lifted and sat you on his lap. "My dork," you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him in until your lips collided again.
Walking into school with him wasn't unusual. What was unusual was that you and Ni-ki had your hands interlocked, causing everyone to look at you in shock. Whispers could be heard from every corner of the hallway, everyone being flabbergasted that the 2 friends who argued relentlessly were now hand in hand like a lovey dovey couple.
'Just what happened over the holidays?' 'Woah, this is the last thing I expected!' 'Didn't Nao like him? Shit, quick - take a photo of them!'
Your friend group was leaning on the lockers, their eyes glued onto the two of you, enjoying the performance that you and Ni-ki had put up for the school. Sunghoon nudged Jungwon and laughed as he noticed your proud expression as you two walked towards them.
"What happened, huh? Did you hit your heads when you went home after the trip?" Sunghoon teased as you two approached.
"Who knows?" Ni-ki shrugged, glancing at you and grinning.
You were having lunch, laughing as per usual with the others when Ni-ki suddenly leaned into your ear and whispered, "I like you".
Your face immediately heats up and your chest tightens, your untensils dropping as you smack Ni-ki's chest for teasing you, "Shut up!".
He laughed at your reaction, finding you adorable as he leaned on your shoulder, "I love you, Y/N".
The others rolled their eyes and pretended to puke and gag, finding the whole lovey-dovey situation disgusting and you sighed, not being able to resist him.
"I love you too".
thank you for reading till the end! show your support by liking, reblogging and commenting! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა
announcement i dont know if you guys saw my other post but i'm going to take a break to focus on my school and life cos things are very hectic even if school hasn't reopened! thank you guys for the amount of love ya'll have shown me, i will forever be grateful and i will definitely come back and make more fics like this cos i find so much joy in writing. will be back in like late feb or march. but ill defo be logging in every once in a while!
taglist (love u guys) @roarr-ki @rikifever @pjselee @firstclassjaylee @adoredbyjay @ancnymcnzjy @kangseulgithegreat @sugarikiz @rikidaze @saphiranishimurashan @celestiai0 @rairaiblog @chxriz-mxr @kerbearpriv @sasfransisco @miukidoll
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Hiii love your writingggg, could you plsss do very innocent!reader and pervy!ethan 🫶🏻
Hiii! I hope you like it, even though you requested this MONTHS ago.
I'm not innocent, so I'm not the best at writing it🙃 Hopefully this is okay:)
Creep - Pervy!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader
This contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Summary: You ask Ethan for help in econ, and once Mindy mentions the empty bedroom in the apartment she shares with Ethan and Chad, you agree to move in. But you realize that your sweet, dorky new roommate has been stealing your panties.
Contains: Pervy kinda creepy Ethan, innocent inexperienced reader, fingering. m!masturbation.
A/N: Okay...this needs a part 2 but I'm already at 5k words lmao. A lot of fics I've read along these lines had had Ethan more subby, but not in this one. 👀
*For the poll I posted earlier today, this one had the most votes at the time of me posting this fic. I'm going to write them all in the order that they're wanted:)*
It seemed like your life was starting to fall apart. You couldn’t stand your roommate, your boyfriend had broken up with you, and your grade for econ was starting to tank. When you brought up your grade to your professor after class, hoping to figure out some way to raise it, she suggested that you talk to Ethan Landry.
The next time you had class, you beelined towards him once he walked in. He noticed you, getting a little nervous the closer you got. He wasn’t the best at talking to girls, he even thought this could’ve been a figment of his imagination that the girl he struggled to take his eyes off was walking to him. He was chewing the inside of his cheek, his eyes not leaving you until you were finally face to face.
“Ethan, right?” you sweetly said, as he nodded. “I hear you’re the best for tutoring, and I desperately need your help if you have the time.”
“I’ll make the time,” he spat out, before he internally screamed at himself for sounding so desperate to help. “I mean, I can help you.”
“You’re a lifesaver,” you said, as you pulled out your phone. “What’s your number?”
“Oh, um…” he trailed off, racking his brain for those ten digits that he suddenly forgot. “I’m sorry, it’s been a long day.”
“It’s okay,” you smiled, “Are you okay with me just giving you my number and you can text me so we can set something up?”
“Yeah,” he said, as he pulled out his phone and went to create a new contact. He passed you his phone as you typed in your name and number, before you handed it back to him.
“Don’t forget to text me,” you said, a sweet smile playing on your lips as you turned to walk back to your seat.
“I won’t,” he said, tightly gripping his phone in his hand as you turned to smile at him once more.
He was struggling to focus as he sat through that class. His fingers kept rubbing over the phone screen that your thumbs had moved across, and he started to realize how pathetic he was for already being so addicted to you when you’d only spoken to him once.
Later that week, you were supposed to meet Ethan in the library to study. You both completely forgot about the renovations they were doing, the normally quiet space filled with the loud sounds of the various pieces of machinery on the opposite side of the room.
“Maybe we should try to do this some other time,” you yelled over the noise. “I can’t concentrate on anything you’re saying.”
“Oh, okay,” Ethan said, looking down so you wouldn’t see the sad look on his face. That’s when he started to get an idea. “My apartment is only two blocks away. It should be quieter. You want to come over to study?”
You liked to be cautious, and you normally wouldn’t go to someone’s apartment that you barely knew, but Ethan seemed innocent enough, and you desperately needed to pass the class so you wouldn’t have to take it again.
“Sure,” you said, wincing as the noise in the room got louder.
You walked beside Ethan as you went to his apartment, and even though it was just for studying, he felt a glint of pride as he walked with you. He hoped that anyone who saw you together would think you were his.
“Hopefully my roommates won’t be too loud,” Ethan sighed, as he stuck his key in the front door.
“Nothing is worse than what’s going on in the library right now,” you said, as he shrugged.
“You say that now…”
You barely made it inside when you heard arguing. Ethan sighed in defeat before he turned to you, “I moved in with my friends, and they’re constantly arguing.”
“Oh,” you giggled, as you followed him into the living room of the apartment. “Oh, hey Mindy,” you said, as she turned to you and smiled.
“Hey! What are you doing here?” she asked, as she walked over to you. Chad just stood there, still worked up from the spat they were having when you walked in.
“Ethan’s trying to help me not fail econ,” you said, as she nodded.
“I remember you mentioning you were having trouble with it.”
Ethan was confused as he stood there, because Mindy had never mentioned you, but she seemed to know you quite well. The two of you talked for a few minutes, and once Ethan heard another guy’s name get mentioned, he immediately got jealous.
“I’m proud of you for not giving him another chance,” Mindy said, as you let out a small laugh.
“I’m not going to say I didn’t think about it, but I don’t need him making my life any harder than it needs to be right now,” you sighed, “On top of the bullshit with him, my roommate is just so awful. Like, she woke me up blasting music before the sun even came up today. I’m trying to find somewhere else to live, but I haven’t had any luck yet.”
“Well, we’re looking for a fourth roommate…” Mindy trailed off, as Ethan’s eyes grew wide. “It’d be nice to have another girl here.”
“Don’t tempt me,” you joked, as Mindy smiled.
“Seriously, think about it,” she said, before she started to yell. “Chad!”
You noticed that the other boy was no longer in the room, but you saw him again as he turned the corner and groaned. “What?”
“Okay, don’t be rude,” she snapped, “I’m trying to convince her to move into the fourth bedroom.”
“Oh,” Chad said, his annoyed face turning up in a smile. “Hey, I’m Chad.”
“Hey,” you said, before he started to go over rent and other things you’d need to know. “Why would I want to move in when you two argue like this?” you joked, as Chad tried to play it off.
“We shared a womb, we lived in the same house until we moved into our dorms, and I finally got a break from her,” he said, as she scoffed, “But now we have to live together again and we’re trying to figure out how to do that.”
“I’ve never lived with boys before…and I’m sure my parents would kill me if they ever found out, but I’ll definitely think about it,” you said, before you turned to Ethan. “I’m sorry, you want to study now?”
“Yeah, let’s go to my room,” he said, as he led you there.
You both got settled on his bed. He sat across from you, his back against the headboard as you adjusted to get more comfortable, laying on your stomach. He bit his lip once he noticed the perfect view he had down your shirt, the neckline barely covering anything as your chest was pressed against his bed.
“So, where should we start?” you asked, your soft voice barely getting his attention as he kept staring at your chest. He wanted to squeeze your boobs, suck on them, fuck them, even. “Ethan?” you questioned as you looked away from your notebook, and opened your laptop, completely blocking the sight he was fantasizing over.
“Oh, uh…” he said, as he opened his laptop. “Maybe let’s work on the quiz that’s due this weekend. It’ll show me what you do and don’t need help with.”
You spent over an hour studying with Ethan, and you felt like you were having a little bit of a better understanding. You were starting to get hungry, so you closed your laptop. Ethan glanced over his screen the second he noticed, getting another peak down your shirt again. This time, he saw a part of one of your nipples peaking out of your bra, the sight making his pants grow tighter. He fought off the sound that was threatening to come out before you sat up, once again taking his perfect view away from him.
“I’m starving,” you said, as you started to put your stuff away. “But thank you so much for your help, and I hope you’ll want to keep helping me. You’re my only hope.”
He softly chuckled at your words, “If you move in, we can study whenever you want.”
“You’d be cool with it?” you asked, smiling at him. “You didn’t really say anything out there and I didn’t want to actually start considering it until you said something.”
“Yeah, I think it’s cool,” he said, “If you do want to, and you need help moving or anything, let me know.”
“Thanks, Ethan,” you said, smiling again before you made your way out of his room.
He wanted to walk you to the door, but he knew the second he stood up, his hard cock would be so obvious. He ran his hand over the spot you were laying on the bed, your warmth still soaked up by his comforter. The view down your shirt was burned in his brain as he got up and walked over to the door, shutting and locking it before he dropped his pants to give his aching cock the attention it desperately needed.
The next time you had econ, you walked in and sat down beside Ethan. He didn’t notice at first, but he soon smelled the familiar scent that he couldn’t get out of his head after you’d left his apartment a few days before. He wasn’t sure if it was your hair or the perfume you were wearing, but it smelled delicious.
“Hey,” he smiled, his pupils growing large as he saw you. “Are you okay?”
He took in the stress on your face, and how tired you looked.
“Yeah, are you sure you’re cool with me moving in?” you asked, “Because I can’t deal with my roommate anymore.”
“Yeah, of course,” he said, “What happened?”
“She invites her boyfriend to stay over whenever she doesn’t have class the next morning,” you sighed, “I don’t want to explain all the sounds I had to listen to while I tried to sleep last night.”
“Oh,” he said softly, “Well, your room would be beside mine, and I wouldn’t keep you up all night.”
“I bet that’s why I’m failing this class right now. I never sleep,” you said, as you looked over to him. “Wait, you don’t have a girlfriend that stays over?”
“No,” he said, his cheeks turning pink at your question.
“Sex is overrated,” you shrugged, “But I really thought you would’ve had a girlfriend.”
“Really?” he asked, as your professor walked in.
“Yeah, you’re a cutie,” you smiled, before you directed your attention to the lecture.
Ethan was thankful that you were so focused and didn’t see the cheesy smile on his face. The girl he’d been thinking about as he jerked his cock for the last few days called him cute, and his heart was swelling.
After a couple weeks, Ethan, Chad, and Mindy showed up to the apartment you currently lived in while your roommate was at her boyfriend’s to help you move.
“First, I want you guys to know that none of this mess is mine,” you said, as soon as you answered the front door for them.
“Whoa,” Chad said as he glanced around. “There’s no way you live with a girl.”
“Yeah, you’ll never guess what I found on the kitchen floor this morning,” you said, as Mindy started to think.
“With the mess, I’m going to guess…dead mouse?”
“Not even close,” you said, as you shook your head and shuddered as you thought about it. “It was a condom.”
“Like…in the wrapper or…?” Chad asked, as you, once again, shook your head.
“Used.”
“Ewwww,” Mindy said, cringing at the thought. “Okay, is anything in the kitchen yours?”
“I already boxed that stuff up. Except the dishes that she’s refused to wash,” you said, as you led them to the living room. “The TV is mine, and that lamp,” you said, as you pointed, “But other than that, I really just have to worry about my room.”
“I think it’d be best to have all the heavy stuff in the living room so Ethan and I can worry about that,” Chad said, as you nodded and led them down the hall.
You had already packed up most of your room, which made it so easy for your new roommates to help you. Once Chad was carrying your mattress out and Mindy had ran out to get coffee, Ethan started to glance around your room. He noticed the hamper full of clothes in the corner, and he found himself inching closer towards it as he listened to you and Chad talk in the living room. Before he could stop himself, he grabbed a shirt off the top of the pile, inhaling its scent. He let out a deep breath before he went to put the shirt back in the hamper, before he noticed some black lace sticking out under a pair of your jeans. He snatched it out of the basket and put it in his pocket before he put the shirt back in it once he heard footsteps coming back down the hall.
“Did you need help with this?” Ethan asked, pointing to the basket, trying to make it not seem like he was being weird.
“Shit, I forgot to do laundry,” you groaned, as the realization hit him that the panties he’d grabbed had been worn. “I’ll carry that out.”
“Okay,” Ethan said, before Chad motioned for him to help with the dresser.
Later that day after you got your stuff moved into your new room, you flopped on your freshly made bed as Mindy popped in.
“So, I’m going to try to convince the guys to share a bathroom so you don’t have to share with Ethan,” she said, as you shrugged.
“It’s not a big deal,” you said, “I just hope he doesn’t mind all the girly stuff in the shower and the makeup and stuff.”
Ethan didn’t mind at all. In fact, he’d already been in the bathroom, smelling your body wash, your shampoo and conditioner. The skincare products you used. He realized that all those things together were the cause of the scent that made his head spin.
Later that night after you had takeout with everyone, Ethan excused himself to go to bed. He couldn’t stop thinking about your panties that were still in his pocket. Once he pulled them out, he ran his fingers over the lace before taking in your scent. He softly groaned before he dropped his pants, the thoughts of his face buried in your pussy making him harder by the second. He had them tightly clutched in his fist as he started to stroke himself with his free hand, small whimpers flying out of his mouth as he tried to imagine how soft your hand would feel wrapped around him. His bottom lip was in between his teeth once he started to get louder, the tip of his cock red as be brought himself closer to the edge. Just as he was about to cum, he deeply inhaled the scent of your panties one more time before he rubbed them against the tip of his cock, his thick, white ropes covering the lace.
You thought living with boys was going to be difficult, but your first month wasn’t bad. You were surprised at how clean they liked everything to be, and Ethan always put the toilet seat down. You started to get close to your dorky roommate, especially once you spent so much time studying together. You already thought he was cute, but once you actually got to know more about him, you realized that he was so sweet, so nice. He might’ve been a little shy, too, but he got to the point where he was doing cute little things to make you laugh.
One day, you went to do your laundry in the apartment. You walked over and were about to throw stuff in when you noticed clothes were already inside, and Ethan quickly rounded the corner with the rest of the stuff he needed to toss in.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, “You want me to take my stuff out? I can wash it later.”
“No, it’s fine, I’ll wait,” you said with a smile, before you noticed something familiar in the washer. “Oh,” you said, your cheeks turning pink as you reached out and grabbed your panties out of the washer. “Must’ve dropped these in.”
Ethan’s eyes grew wide as he noticed them in your hand, the realization hitting you that they were sticky.
“Eww, what is all over these?” you said, a disgusted look on your face as you tried to figure it out. You looked over to Ethan, his face bright red and his eyes huge, when you pieced it together. “Ethan…”
He just stared at you, the silence deafening as he tried to think of something, anything to say to you. He’d gotten away with stealing your panties for a month, but it was a way for him to feel close to you, and satisfy some of the sexual frustration he had whenever he thought about you.
“What’s on my panties?” you questioned, as he tensed up. “Actually, I don’t think I want to know.”
You tossed them back in the washer and walked past him and headed straight to the bathroom to wash your hands. When you went to your room and shut the door, Ethan huffed and tossed in the rest of stuff that was in his hands before he started the washer.
As the day went by, you couldn’t stop thinking about Ethan, and how you’d noticed that pairs of your panties had been going missing ever since you moved in. But then you’d randomly see them again, in the top drawer of your dresser after a few days. You didn’t think Ethan was like that, and it made you feel a little uneasy to live with him.
Later that night, you had to say something to him. You walked out of your room and glanced around the apartment for him, before you walked to his closed door and started to knock. He eased it open after a few seconds, his eyes connecting with yours through the small crack.
“Can we talk?” you asked, as he took a deep breath and hesitantly opened the door for you.
You walked in and took a seat on the side of the bed, your gaze on his floor as you tried to think of the right way to talk to him.
“You want me to leave the door open,” he asked, barely above a whisper as you shook your head no.
“If Mindy or Chad come home, I don’t want them to hear the conversation.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled, before he took a seat beside you. “I’m sorry.”
“Why were you stealing my panties?” you asked, as he took a deep breath.
“I can’t explain it without sounding like the total creep you probably already think I am.”
“So…that was what I thought it was on them,” you said, as you turned to look at him. He nodded, looking away to not meet your gaze.
“Again, I am so sorry,” he said, “I know you probably hate me, and I understand if you don’t want to be around me. I’ll stay in my room so you don’t have to see me.”
“I’m just a little confused,” you said softly, as he finally let his eyes connect with yours. “What’s so exciting about my panties?”
At that moment, one thing you said to Ethan started to play in his head. ‘Sex is overrated.’ He was questioning how much experience you actually had.
“Do you really not know or are you fucking with me?” he questioned.
“Like, does it feel good? How does it even turn you on?” you asked, curiously staring at him.
“They uh…yeah, it feels good when I uh…rub them on myself. And they smell like you.”
“They smell like fabric softener and laundry detergent,” you said, a small laugh slipping out as he shook his head.
“I haven’t been stealing clean ones…they smell like you.”
“Oh,” you said, as you looked away from him. “That turns you on?”
“You have no idea,” he said, and even though the conversation was uncomfortable, he was getting hard.
“Why are guys so weird?” you thought out loud, laughing a little as you shook your head. “So does that mean that you like me? Or you’re like…sexually attracted to me? I still don’t fully get it.”
“Both,” he said, “I think you’re so beautiful, and I’ve had so much fun with you this last month…but I also think about you in a different way, too. Ya know?”
“I’ve thought about you that way, too,” you admitted, “It’d kind of hard not to. I hear you through the walls all the time.”
“You’ve heard me?” he asked, a blush spreading to his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I know you hated when you heard your old roommate.”
“I like it when I hear you,” you said so softly that he barely heard it.
“Do you touch yourself when you hear me?”
Your breathing got heavier at his question, and Ethan noticed. You were getting so flustered under his gaze.
“I…I’ve tried to,” you said, as you took in the curious look on his face.
“Tried to?” he asked, “What do you mean?”
“Like…I know what feels good, but I can never get myself…there, if you know what I mean.”
“You’ve never made yourself cum?” he questioned, admiring how cute you looked as you got embarrassed.
“No one has.”
“No one?” he asked, his throat dry at the thought. “Are you a virgin?”
“No…but I’ve never enjoyed sex. Like, it feels good, but I think it’s so disappointing when you hear how amazing orgasms are and then I just never get one.”
Ethan expected the conversation that was happening to go so differently. He thought you hated him, but there you were, telling him that you’d tried to get yourself off when you’d heard him. The thought of him being the first one to make you cum had him salivating, but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable if he offered.
“Have you ever…given someone an orgasm?” you asked, as he nodded. “I’m jealous of whoever she is.”
“Don’t be,” he said, scooting a little closer to you. “Fuck, I’d make you cum all the time if I could.”
“Really?” you smiled, “If you ever want to, I’m right next door,” you joked, as he smiled and shook his head.
“Hey, don’t offer that or I’ll be in your room every day.”
You were starting to squirm against his bed, your thighs rubbing together so subtly that he could barely tell. The sexual tension was so thick, your breathing getting heavier as you thought about how good Ethan would make you feel.
“I think I need to go back to my room,” you said, as you started to stand up. That’s when you glanced at Ethan’s lap, noticing the tent in his sweatpants.
“Do you really want to?” he asked, “Because if you want me to take care of you right now, I will.”
“Seriously?” you questioned, as he smiled and nodded.
“Come here,” he said, reaching out to grab your hands, pulling you to him.
Once Ethan leaned in to kiss you, he was almost taken aback by how quickly your lips were moving against his. He was desperate for you, but you were just as desperate for him. He matched your pace before he pushed you back on the bed, his hand running from your hip, up your ribs, until it landed on your breast. You gasped into the kiss once he squeezed it.
You had massive butterflies in your stomach once you felt his cock pressing against your thigh through his sweatpants, your head was spinning, but you were loving every second of it.
“Hey, I have an idea,” he said, once he pulled away to catch his breath. “I think we should go to your room.”
“Why?” you asked because you didn’t want to stop. You needed his lips back on yours.
“Because you have that full length mirror leaning against your wall,” he said, chuckling once you noticed the confused look on your face. “I want you to see what I’m doing to make you cum…in case I’m never here to help you.”
“Okay,” you said, as he stood up and grabbed your hands.
Once he opened his bedroom door, he listened to make sure he didn’t hear anyone else in the apartment before he walked out and to your room next door. He shut and locked your bedroom door once he made it inside, before he pulled you into another kiss. His hands held onto your hips until they started to rub against the flesh under the hem of your shirt. He kept inching it further and further up, until he pulled away to pull it over your head. His lips went back to yours as he reached around to unhook your bra, his hands squeezing at your breasts once they were free.
His mouth moved to your neck as his hands explored your body, before they snaked under the waistband of your leggings. He moved them down over your hips as you shimmied out of them, leaving you in nothing but your panties. He recognized them as the first pair he ever stole, the black lacy ones.
“Fuck,” he mumbled, as his hand moved to rub you over your panties. The material was soaked as you moaned at the feeling. “That feel good?”
“Yes,” you said, quickly nodding your head just in case he needed the extra confirmation. “So good.”
“I hate that I have to take these off you,” he said, as he inched the fabric down your thighs, leaving you completely nude in front of him. “I’m going to sit on the floor in front of the mirror, and I want you to sit between my legs.”
“Okay,” you said, as he took a seat on the floor, his legs spreading for you to sit. You did as he said, looking at him in the mirror as he spread your legs, placing your feet on either side of his legs on the floor.
You watched him lick two of his fingers before he placed them against your clit, rubbing slow circles. Your eyes stayed on the reflection of his hand, your mouth parting as you started to breathe faster. He added a little more pressure as you fully relaxed back into his chest, the softest moans slipping out as he went a little faster.
“Ethaaan,” you whined out, the noise quickly becoming his new favorite sound.
“Shh, I don’t know if anyone else is here,” he said softly, “Just keep your legs spread for me, baby.”
He rubbed a few more circles on your clit before his fingers moved lower, one of them slipping inside you. He pumped it in and out for a minute before he added another, as you angled your neck to look up at him. He leaned down to kiss you as his fingers moved, before he started to mumble against your lips.
“If you ever finger yourself, this…” he said, as he curved them just right, a low moan flying out of your mouth, “Is the spot that needs attention. Okay baby?”
“Okay,” you whimpered, as he moved his fingers faster.
The sounds you were making just kept getting louder, and Ethan was just hoping and praying that no one else was home. One of your hands clung to his thigh as your other hand wrapped around his wrist, as you started to feel…different. It felt so good, and the last thing you wanted was for him to stop. Once he went even faster, the squelching sound of your wet pussy and your whimpers filling the room, your legs were trying so hard to close as your toes curled against the carpet on the floor.
“Oh my god,” you moaned, your fluttering eyes watching his hand in the mirror as your body started to tingle.
“Cum for me baby,” he encouraged, as you finally let that feeling wash over your body. You were jolting, your eyes screwed shut as his fingers started to slow, his free hand roaming your chest as you let out all your sounds.
Once you fully relaxed in his arms, he placed a kiss to the top of your head as your hazy eyes connected with his in the mirror.
“Now you can’t say no one’s ever made you cum,” he said with a smile, as he slid his fingers out of you. “Did it feel good?”
“That was better than I thought it was going to be,” you said, “Thanks, Ethan.”
“You’re welcome.”
You sat there in silence for a minute as you felt his cock pressing against you, and you wanted so badly to take care of him, until you heard commotion in the apartment.
“Hey, guysss,” Chad yelled, as he walked down the hall.
You tensed up as you glanced at your door, before Ethan whispered, “It’s okay, I locked it.”
You relaxed again before Chad started to yell again, “Tara’s here!”
You forgot about hanging out with Mindy and Tara for the night, and you didn’t want to pull away from Ethan, but you hesitantly did, your legs wobbling as you tried to stand. Ethan got up to help you, and once you got your bearings, he started to grab your clothes off the floor for you.
“Thanks,” you said, before you noticed him pick up your panties.
“No, thank you,” he joked, a smirk playing on his lips as he backed towards your door. “I’ll see you when you get back in the morning.”
“I better still have panties in that top drawer when I get back.”
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No Judgments
See Me Through You Blurb
Synopsis: You and Joe do the 'We listen and don't judge' TikTok challenge 🤭
Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader
Requested by: a few gorgeous anons 💕
Series Masterlist
Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere
After wiping your mouth and rinsing it out with mouthwash from your sudden episode of morning sickness, you made your way back into the bedroom where your husband was still peacefully sleeping.
You attempted to climb back into the bed without waking him up, but feeling the weight shift made him flutter his eyes open. Joe had never been a really deep sleeper, but since he found out you were pregnant, usually he wakes up at the smallest noise and it left you surprised this morning when he didn’t feel you get out of bed the first time.
“Baby, you okay?” He asked as he pulled you towards him so he could wrap his arms around you and kissed the top of your head.
“Your children won't let me be great and made me throw up again.” You quietly answered and you had now grown frustrated since it seemed like the morning sickness wasn't only happening in the morning, but throughout the day.
“You want me to make you some tea?”
“Yes, please. I'm miserable.”
Joe then placed his hand on your belly and began to rub small circles on it as he noticed that your bump was actually starting to show.
“Babies, stop making mommy sick so she can sleep. Daddy’s orders.”
“Hopefully they'll listen to you because clearly they pay me no attention.”
“When they hear ‘the voice’ for the first time, they're going to be running for their lives.” Joe said, referring to the first time he heard it and made sure to stay out of your way for the rest of the day.
“I still to this day have no idea what you are talking about when you say that.”
“It's a voice you make when you get really annoyed. Ask Ja'Marr, he'll back me up.”
“I just think you two are being dramatic.”
“Says the most dramatic person in the room….”
“Husband! Take it back!”
“Nope, it's facts and I'm not going to lie to you.”
All you did was roll your eyes in response as Joe raised his eyebrows at you.
“Don't catch an attitude with me because it's something you didn't want to hear. Fix your face.”
“I'll fix mine if you let me ride yours.”
“I… These pregnancy hormones are giving me a run for my money and got me fighting for my damn life. One thing at a time and let's get your nausea under control first.”
Later on in the day, when Joe was sitting at the island in the kitchen, you went and sat next to him while setting up your phone. He quickly noticed and looked over at you.
“Whatever it is, no.”
“But baby! Pleaseeee?!”
You knew Joe hated being in front of a camera, but you loved doing TikTok challenges with him from time to time.
Sighing and finally giving in, he put his phone down to give you his undivided attention.
“Okay, what are we doing?”
“We listen and we don't judge challenge. I sent you a few so you would have an example to know what to do.”
“Only because it's you. Let's get this over with.”
“Yay! And I want you to go first.” You told him as you pressed record.
“We listen and we don't judge.”
“When I feel like I'm getting sick, I act like I'm so drained so I can't do anything so you'll baby me.” Joe was the first one up and smiled at you when he was finished.
“What the? I baby you anyway! Like 98% of the time.”
“AHT! No judging. You just take it to a different level. Moving on.”
“You are literally MY baby though. My 6’4 baby and I'm 4'11, but who's to say anything about that? I love you bad and I see you're using it to your advantage.”
“To get endless cuddles from my wife? Hell yeah I'm taking advantage of it.”
“Okay, next.”
“We listen and we don't judge.”
“So after you fall asleep since your bedtime is like 6 pm.. like a grandpa…” You started to say, but was immediately interrupted.
“9 during the season!”
“Stop interrupting me, husband! After you fall asleep, I go and buy things on your phone and make sure to delete the notifications so you don't find out.”
“BABY!”
“HEY! I BUY YOU THINGS TOO!”
“And you hide the packages too because I literally never see any of them.”
“Hmm, maybe.”
“Fine. Keep your secrets.”
“We listen and we don't judge.”
“When we were at LSU and we were just friends, I memorized your schedule and knew you had a lot of late classes and I would purposely wait for you if it was dark outside to walk you to your car to make sure you were safe. And it gave me a chance to spend more time with you.”
“So, that's why it seemed like you were always around? Aww, you love me!” You told him as you pinched his cheek.
“And don't you ever forget it.”
“We listen and we don't judge.”
“During last season when I saw you wore THOSE PANTS, yes you know the ones I'm talking about, after I specifically told you not to because they looked crazy and you wore them anyway, you kept asking if I've seen them but I hid them somewhere in our house and they have been hidden for so long that I forgot their location.”
“I LOVE THOSE PANTS, BABE!”
“THEY ARE HIDEOUS, BABY. NO!”
“I'm making it my mission later to find my pants.”
“I know Ja'Marr probably bought you those ugly ass pants.”
“AHT! You're judging!”
“We listen and we don't judge.”
“When you're mad at me, I purposely go into the cabinet and make all of the jar lids tighter so you have to come and talk to me.” Joe confessed and you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms at the same time.
“SERIOUSLY? And here I am thinking I'm a weak bitch! I can lift almost as heavy as you can! And a jar lid is what does me in?!?”
“Works every time.”
“I'm going to have to do it myself next time.”
“Like that will ever happen…” Joe said and you playfully rolled your eyes.
“We listen and we don't judge.”
“Okay, so….” You started to say as you glanced at Joe and he sighed knowing that something crazy and out of pocket was about to come out of your mouth.
“Oh shit, here we go.”
“Sometimes, I purposely piss you off and I don't know that you know you do this but your voice gets deeper and it turns me on so bad. Like your voice by itself turns me on, but when you get mad, whew. Sign me up for EVERY position. It's happening now and I'm just thinking about it. Gets your girl all hot and bothered.” You quietly said as Joe stared at you since you were now squirming in your chair and trying to keep your legs as tight as possible.
“Are you seriously squirming over there? And I’m not surprised by this in the slightest. Just wait until we're finished with this, I'm about to turn you every way but loose. And hold on! I thought we were keeping this PG!?” He asked as he leaned over and kissed you.
“Don't threaten me with a good time and when are the videos we do ever PG? Especially when it's something like this? And don't get me started because I will literally rip off your clothes at this very moment.”
“Good point and see? And that's why you're pregnant now.”
“Because my husband is fine as hell and I'll fu-” Joe's eyes went wide as he promptly covered your mouth with his hand and in protest, you licked it, making him look at you dumbfounded.
“No! Do not finish that sentence. This is really about to turn into something else if you don't stop. And did you just lick my hand!?”
“I wanna lick something else too, but I'll save that for when we turn the camera off.” You tried to whisper, but failed miserably.
“BABY QUIT IT!” Joe pleaded and all you did was shrug.
“I was like this before you married me and you should have known that once this ring was on my finger, I was about to be ten times worse.”
“Hmm, that's putting it lightly.”
“We listen and we don't judge.”
“I hide some of your perfumes so that you'll only use my favorite ones that I've bought for you.”
“Babe! How many have you hidden!? And here I am thinking that I've lost them!”
“Hmm, not telling.”
“You're annoying.”
“I'm cute and you love me.”
“Survey says that both of those responses are correct.”
“We listen and we don't judge.”
“So, when you got hurt during your rookie year, I was watching the game and saw it happen and my heart immediately dropped. Because we literally had an argument hours before that game and we weren't talking and now I think back on it, I had no idea what the argument was about. But, I low-key felt that you getting hurt was somehow my fault. I remember packing my things and getting on a plane and crying the entire way there and I honestly didn't know if you wanted to see me at that point. Because I had sent you a text right before the game and you didn't respond. And to this day, I still feel like that.”
It was quiet for a few seconds before Joe said anything.
“That… baby that wasn't your fault. It was a bad hit. And of course I wanted to see you. You were actually the first person I asked for. I never knew you felt like that.”
“I hate seeing you in pain and I…. I'm about to cry again.”
“I can tell, hormones.” Joe replied as he wiped your eyes for you.
“But I came back from it because of you and how you helped me. You being there was enough. You love me bad, don't you?” He asked as he was trying to get you to smile.
“So much, and you know it.”
“We listen and we don't judge.”
“Ever since you told me you were pregnant, I watch you until you fall asleep to make sure you’re okay. Doesn't matter how long it takes or if I have to get up early. You're my priority.”
“And, I'm about to cry again. Damn these hormones.”
“You are literally MY person and I don't know what I'd do without you.”
“Ladies, get you a husband who treats you like the queen you are every day because….. shoutout to Jimmy and Robin because the two of them gave me one of the best things that ever happened to me.”
“Wait… ONE of the best things? I'm not THE best thing!?”
“Hmm, you're top five.” You replied as you shrugged.
“Uh? You mean number one?”
“If it makes you feel better, the top five things all have to do with you.”
“That sounds suspicious, but I'll let it slide for now.”
“I love you Joseph Lee Burrow!” You exclaimed as you kissed his cheek and wrapped your arms around him.
“Stop trying to change the subject and I know for a damn fact you didn't just call me by my full name. I get anxious when you do that.”
“Wait, huh?”
“We've gone over this a million times. My name is BABY to you. When it comes to you I don't know who Joseph is.”
“And he calls me the dramatic one.”
#joe burrow#joe burrow x black reader#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow fluff#joe burrow imagine#nfl imagine#joe burrow fanfic#joe burrow fanfiction#joey b#cincinnati bengals
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wildflower and barley -- joel miller x reader
pairing + fandom: joel miller x reader, the last of us (hbo)
word count: 5k+ oops
warnings/notes: smut smut smut!!! minors DNI, 18+!!! no outbreak!au. age gap (it's implied reader is in her 20s while joel is 45) and mentions of joel being kinda perverted and liking it lol. drinking (both reader and joel, not excessive), use of a dating app like tinder but not specified, unprotected PIV w creampie and oral (m+f receiving), do not fuck your tinder hookups without protection i'm just horny and gross. excessive use of darlin' as a nickname. implied that reader likes men. she/her pronouns used, afab!reader (with mentions of body parts), no use of y/n. if i missed anything lmk!
a/n: heavily inspired by this post by @yesttoheaven about joel's tinder profile!! it has been rotting my brain since i saw it which literally inspired me to write my first fic in the tlou fandom ever so please be gentle with me. i imagined show!joel because i've never played the game so do with that what you will. please reblog and leave comments if u enjoy it <3333
divider by @cafekitsune
summary: after deciding to change your age range on a dating app in hope of a change of scenery, you stumble across joel miller.
No one likes using dating apps.
Swiping left, left, left mindlessly at troves of men holding fish, showing off their trucks, or with deer heads mounted to the walls behind their selfies holding guns.
This was Texas, after all.
Having just moved here, it was a little shocking, to say the least. But you were getting used to the “eligible” bachelors that were your age generally looking and acting the same. When you did end up finding someone of interest, you were usually turned off pretty quickly by whatever shitty pick-up line they had chosen. Or, your personal favourite, “wanna fuck?”
No thanks.
It was an idyllic summer evening, the hot stuffy air of Austin flowing in through your windows. You laid in bed, propped up on the pillows against your headboard and sorting through the faces that adorned your screen. No one particularly interesting, as usual, and every profile was starting to melt together to look the same.
You sighed, looking into your settings, adjusting and increasing different metrics to hopefully change the pool just enough for there to be someone new or interesting.
Age range: 25-30
Your eyebrow cocked as you looked onto the screen, pulling the slider more to the right experimentally. No one was here to see you, and even though it was slightly embarassing to be interested in older men, you’d be lying if you said it didn’t pique your interest to imagine it. Even just to try, and see, if they ever really did grow up. You imagined it was wishful thinking, but increased the range anyways.
Age range: 35-45
Feeling the need to throw your phone across the room after doing that, you placed it face down under your pillow and slid out of bed. No use in swiping through them now, and you were getting tired of looking. A pint of Ben and Jerry’s and a new episode of your favourite show was waiting for you downstairs.
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾
Joel Miller does not use dating apps.
He barely knows how to send a text on his phone, let alone navigate the world of online women. Not to say he didn’t explore the options, so to speak, but they usually were not ones that were single, his age, and in his area. Unless the ads on those sites were real, that is.
“It’s starting to get sad,” Sarah had remarked at breakfast, when they got on the topic, and Joel feigned hurt. Hand over his heart, he dropped his fork onto the plate. “It’s not sad, Jesus. I’m just busy, is all.”
“Busy not gettin’ busy,” Sarah remarked, and Joel’s eyes widened. “Hey now! None of that.”
A blush spread up his cheeks and ears as they continued to eat breakfast in slightly awkward silence, before Joel took his plate to the sink. “Okay, off to school, you. And no more conversations about my dating life. Ever.”
Sarah laughed as she finished off the last of the juice in her glass. “I’m just saying, dad. You can if you want to. Might be nice for you.”
Joel planted a soft kiss to her head before she bounded out the door, rolling his eyes and calling out a ‘love you’ before she closed the door swiftly behind her. Joel stared at his cell phone on the table. Maybe it would be nice.
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾
The following evening, you were a little too excited to see the dating app specimens you had acquired. Not sure what to expect, really, and you went in with no expectations. It’s not like they’d magically all be tall, dark, and handsome, but some variety never killed anybody.
Paul, 41
Daddy, but not yours. No libs allowed. 6’ because that matters.
You sighed deeply. Some things never change.
After swiping through much of what you were used to, a profile managed to catch your eye among the sea of disappointment.
Joel, 45
Just a Southern gentleman trying this out for the first time. Contractor of over 10 years. I love my daughter, BBQ, strong coffee, and sleeping in.
Now that was the most interesting thing you’d seen in a while.
He didn’t look a day over 40. His eyes creased at the corners when he smiled wide in his photos. He looked tan, a product of the Texas heat and his job, you thought. His features were accompanied by salt-and-pepper facial hair and messy curls that looked soft and pliable. His photos showed off his physique incredibly, tight wash-worn t-shirts pulling over his arms and shoulders, looking big, broad. He was no doubt the most handsome man you’d seen on an app, maybe ever.
When you swiped right before you could think too hard, you were surprised to see the green “Match!” Flash across your screen.
Your fingers ghosted over the keyboard on your phone, thinking of a witty thing to say, probably for too long.
Your phone buzzed as you saw a notification pop up.
Joel has sent you a message.
Hey, darlin’. How are ya?
You felt your face warm at the sweet message, when was the last time someone had called you darlin’? Ever?
Hey cowboy. I’m great, how are you?
He was certainly an eager responder, taking only a few seconds to reply. You found yourself smiling down at your phone screen.
Cowboy… I like that. I’m better now that I’m talking to you.
Oh, Joel, who told you to say that? 😂
No good?
Not bad. 6/10.
Only 6/10? I’ll work on it. I like to think I’m better in person.
I would love to find out.
You found yourself emboldened by how easy the conversation was flowing. Joel was certainly easy to talk to, easier than the other matches you had going for you, and infinitely more handsome.
Oh, would you? Alright. I’d love to take you to dinner sometime. If you don’t mind being seen with an old man such as myself in public. Or meeting a stranger from the internet.
He’s a very handsome stranger. I would love to go to dinner with you. Know any good spots? I’m new around here.
There’s a great barbecue spot in downtown Austin. If you’d prefer something fancier, let me know.
I love bbq. Just tell me where and when, cowboy.
Tomorrow, 7pm ok?
You sent him your phone number in the message. Fuck it.
Sounds great. Text me the address, I’ll be there. :)
Joel’s reply didn’t come. Instead, a text appeared at the top of your screen with an unknown number.
It’s Joel. This the right number?
Yup. You found me.
Great. Talk tomorrow sweetheart. Looking forward to it. :)
He texted you the address of the restaurant, right before you opened the contact card, saving his name as “cowboy ♡”.
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾
Cowboy. Cowboy. Cowboy. It was playing over in his head like a broken fuckin’ record.
Joel was positively freaking out about this date.
Sarah had managed to secure a sleepover at her friend’s place, so the house would be empty for the night. He had been busying himself with cleaning the entirety of the house, even taking the time to mow the grass before work and vacuum the family room. He can’t remember the last time he vacuumed anywhere.
Would she even make it back here? How does this work? Will she want to sleep over or hang out on the couch or should he be making a dessert for after?
His mind was brought out of it’s craze by Sarah jumping down the stairs. She plopped her bag down on the freshly wiped countertop.
“Careful,” he warned, putting a hand up. “I just cleaned that off.”
“I can tell. It smells like the cleaning aisle threw up in here.”
He smirked before patting her head with his hand, as she aggressively smoothed out her hair. “Dad! Don’t!”
“When do you wanna go to Ellie’s?” He asked, more gaging how long he has left to get ready than actually asking.
“Probably soon. Why? Tryna get rid of me?” she poked her dad in the side, but when she flinched away instead, a large smile spread across her face. He was tense.
“What’s your deal?” Joel hated the way she knew him so well sometimes.
“Nothing.“
“Are you going on a date?”
Silence fell over the kitchen between the two of them, as Joel’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “How did you know?”
“Oh my god, you actually took my advice,” Sarah laughed, watching her dad’s face burn red with embarrassment. “Just don’t do anything weird on communal surfaces, please.”
Joel shook his head at her suggestion, already becoming annoyed with the whole prospect. He was so nervous, about what to wear, how to act, what the expectation was… let alone, what would happen if they made it back to his place at all.
Although, when he was able to shake his nerves for a second, he was just really fucking excited.
“Wear those dark jeans, and that green shirt you wore to Tommy’s last week. Looks good on you.” Sarah smiled as she put her arms around Joel’s middle, while his worries melted away with her touch. “She’ll love you, I promise.”
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾
It had been such a long time since you’d been on a proper date, you were starting to lose your mind at the simple process of deciding what to wear.
Clothes were strewn across every surface of your apartment, shoes matching with jeans that matched with cardigans, tops that matched with belts and jackets.
It’s 87 degrees at 5 o’clock, idiot. You’re not wearing a jacket. Relax.
Exhausted of picking out outfits and making decisions, you collapsed on your couch and took a look at your options. You landed on an easy sundress, putting the rest of your clothes back in their respective drawers, and pulling out all of the products you were expecting to use to get ready.
You scrolled through your phone aimlessly as a notification bubble popped up on the screen.
We still on for tonight darlin’? Or did you change your mind?
No worries if you did. I respect that.
You let out a cackle at the message, thinking about how he must look right now. Was he nervous? Scared? Was he just looking for a controversially young fuck?
You weren’t… completely against that.
Didn’t change my mind, wouldn’t in a million years :)
Meet you there. Can’t wait to see you.
His eagerness to meet up would’ve been a red flag if it were any other run of the mill guy, but something about Joel felt special. There didn’t seem to be any funny business with him; too sincere to try anything other than just a good old fashioned date.
You too, cowboy.
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾
When Joel showed up at the restaurant, he clenched a small bouquet of pink peonies in his right hand and checked his watch obsessively. The minutes ticked away, as he kept a high alert for anyone who could be his potential date. He knew what you looked like, of course, but this being his first time doing anything of this sort is making him hyperaware of anything going awry.
When he does lay eyes on you, his whole gaze softens. A pink sundress, hair pristinely styled and a bounce in your step that reminded him of summer. You looked like an angel, the sunset behind you painting the sky tangerine, which reflected off of the shine against your supple skin. So young, beautiful, it was taking his breath away.
“Joel?”
Your voice matched your sweet demeanour, and he was taken out of his waking daydream.
“Hi,” is all he can say, letting his breath out as he relaxed. “Yes, hi, sorry. I’m Joel.”
“Hi,” you laugh back, eyes darting to the flowers in his hand. They matched your dress.
“These are for you,” he gets the hint, extending his arm out, and you can see the veins bulging in his forearm. He looked so much stronger in person, it was making your knees go weak.
“Thank you, wow,” you held them up to your nose to smell the sweet aroma. “I love peonies.”
“Me too,” he smiled, showing off a string of pearly white teeth, that contrasted with the pink of his lips and the even tan of his skin.
“Shall we?” He extended his arm to you for you to grab onto, and you got to feel the warmth of his skin for yourself. Your hand wrapped around his forearm as he opened the door of the restaurant for you, leading you inside and catching a glimpse of the backs of your thighs as you walked in front of him.
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾
When you were finally sitting, the conversation flowed easily. He was truly a Southern gentleman, like he had said. It wasn’t normal for you to open up so quickly, but Joel was so easy going and smart, he asked the right questions and knew when to listen. He knew how to listen, a warm gaze and a nod along, asking follow up questions to your answers and easily getting to know you.
You asked about his daughter, his family, his work. He was happy to tell you.
“So, what’s a man like you doing being single in this city?” You take a sip of the wine in the glass in front of you, burgundy staining your bottom lip.
He takes a bite of the food in front of him, a napkin pressing to his lips quickly after. “Been busy,” he started to say, honey brown eyes meeting yours for a second. His gaze sent an electrifying pulse down your spine.
“And, well, when Sarah’s mom left there was a ton to do,” he says it nonchalantly, as if that should be something normal to happen. “House, work, school, she keeps my hands full. Hasn’t been a lot of time.” His syrupy drawl is pulling you in, you’re enticed by the way he speaks to you. So easy, warm, soft. You wonder what his hands feel like on your body, lips pressed to your neck, torso pressed against yours.
“Sorry, that’s a lot of information for a first date,” he laughs to cover the awkwardness, and quietly curses himself for going into so much detail about his precarious family situation and basically admitting to you that he hasn’t fucked anything other than his hand in the last 5 or so years.
“No, it’s okay,” you slide your hand across the table, palm up, urging him to slot his hand into it. He takes it, easily, enveloping yours. His fingers find the pulse point on your wrist. You let your eyes drift up to his, drinking in the way his chest fills out the shirt he chose.
“What’s your story?” He asks earnestly, giving your hand a squeeze. “Can’t imagine there isn’t a long line of people outside waiting to take my place, darlin’.”
You blush furiously at the nickname, and let your eyes meet his once again. “You have no idea the… mess that is out there,” the wine is calling your name to take another sip at the mere thought, but you refrain. “Certainly not too many I am interested in.”
“So, is that why you’re on a date with an old man on a beautiful summer night in Austin?”
You could tell Joel, in a twisted way, liked that you were younger than him. It made him feel younger by admission, that you’d want to spend time with him.
“You’re not that much older,” you laugh, not even believing it yourself as the words left your lips. “And I like to try new things. Don’t you like trying new things, sometimes?”
It was his turn to let his face go red at your insinuation. If only you knew how ‘new’ this really was for him, how much he was pushed out of his comfort zone right now.
You didn’t notice.
A little more polite small talk and exchanging of stories was all you could take before the tension was becoming too much. After another glass of wine and a shared plate of sky-high chocolate cake for dessert, you were enjoying his company and could tell he was enjoying yours all the same. When you met his gaze again, hands still intertwined, you could tell there was a question on the tip of his tongue.
“Would you want to…“ - a nervous pause, with a halo of lust - “come back to mine for a nightcap? I’ve got an empty house this evening.”
You couldn’t help but smirk, knowing in your heart that Joel must’ve made arrangements for his family not to be home in anticipation. He had to have planned for you, known in his heart you’d say yes.
“I’d love that.”
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾
Joel’s home is unmistakably him. It smells like a pine candle that sits near the front door and a faint aroma of laundry detergent. There’s photos everywhere, him and his daughter, his brother’s family. Big windows were letting in the twinkling lights of the city outside, the inky sky making them look brighter against its canvas.
“You have a beautiful home,” you say, although it seems a little formal for the situation. What else do you say to a grown-up in their house?
“Thank you,” he takes a bottle of whiskey from the bar cart and pours two rock glasses, handing you one. He flicks on a lamp, ambient light filling the room and painting his skin amber orange, as he joins your side by his kitchen table.
“I did a lot of the construction myself, the decorations are my daughter.” He points lazily to the trinkets on the shelves and photos on the wall. “I don’t really have a good eye for that type of stuff.”
You take a sip from the drink and it coats your throat, burning down as you suppress a cough at the taste. You nod along as he explains the design choices he made in the home, and you play along, knowing it’s likely out of anxiety.
“What about upstairs?”
Your eyes are innocent as they meet his, although you understand the implication you’re making whole-heartedly. He puts his glass down on the kitchen table and you follow his lead, his strong hand around your wrist as he leads you up the stairs wordlessly.
“It’s not anything,” - he clears his throat - “special,” he shows you around the second floor, finishing at the door of his bedroom that has been left slightly ajar.
You step in quietly, leading him inside as you take in the bedroom. Neatly folded clothes, a made bed that looks well loved. Blue sheets and fluffy pillows, big bay windows that let the moonlight in.
“I think it’s nice,” you say simply, letting yourself turn around to meet his broad frame. He looks down at you slightly, eyes meeting yours as your hand drops from his grasp and snakes around his neck. His hands come up the sides of your dress, pulling it up slightly, but landing on your waist.
“Is this okay?” He asks tentatively in the dark of the room, his lips so close to yours already you can practically taste the whiskey on his lips for yourself. You answer him by pressing your tentative lips to his, slotting them together easily.
Joel’s grip on your waist tightens momentarily as he takes you in, pulling you as close as he possibly can. He can smell the perfume on your neck and the wine on your lips from earlier, and it’s making his need for you increase tenfold.
You pull him into you as you stumble back to let your knees hit his mattress, sitting down and letting your hands come to his belt buckle. Your hands came to undo it as he pulled his t-shirt off to throw onto the floor beside him, bending down to help you pull the dress over your shoulders to meet his t-shirt.
You made quick work of his jeans, pushing them to the ground and looking up at him with a keen glance. You could see the breath making his belly rise and fall, anticipating your touch on him any second.
When your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, his breath hitched and his head rolled back. He was already half-hard only from kissing you, so a few pumps made him easily ready for your mouth.
“You’re so big,” is all you can think to say, head spinning from the sheer size of him right in front of your face. Your mouth watered at the way his hand palmed through your hair, pulling you in closer to him for some relief.
It was intoxicating to him, the way your mouth fit around his cock. Such a beautiful sight to see, your head licking and sucking at his tip, gathering spit there to lubricate him. His knees were going weak as he watched intently, no thought able to cross his mind, other than maybe how long it had been since he’d had anyone to do this with. He was going to have to pace himself if it was all like this.
Your mouth constrained around the length of him, taking him deeper and deeper with every bob of your head. Filthy sounds were filling the room now, of your eager mouth pulling him in as best you could. His hand stayed steady at the back of your head, not pushing, just softly pressed there for support. His other hand found your shoulder, pushing down your bra strap.
“God, darlin’,” was all he could choke out, using his hand to pull you off of him. Your hand lazily stroked him as you looked up at him, spit collecting at the corners of your mouth. “I’m not gonna last long if you keep doin’ that,” his laugh eased some of the tension in the room, as you took your other hand and wiped the spit away.
He leaned down, pressing a fervent kiss to your lips before using his own hands to unclasp your bra and let your breasts free. His lips traveled to the side of your neck, before he was kneeled down between your legs, sucking your nipple into his mouth. He lapped at you, all consuming, as his hand came up to grasp the other breast that wasn’t being serviced. He moaned at the noises you were making, lewd whines into the night air that only encouraged him.
His lips made their way down your body to your clothed centre, your back against his soft sheets. You looked down at him intently, watching as he pulled your panties down your legs and immediately delved into your pussy with broad strokes of his tongue.
Your body jerked upwards at the contact, hand fisting the sheet beside you as he lapped at you, like a man starved. His expert tongue found your clit easily, sucking and licking at you for what felt like hours. You thought about his heavy cock between his legs, begging to be touched, hard as ever as he licked at you desperately.
“Joel,” you whined out, feeling your hand reach down to grab at his curls and push him deeper into you. That only made him moan, one hand lazily fisting his cock as the other came up to dip a finger into you, allowing you to see stars when you screwed your eyes shut.
His fingers were so large, pressed into your core as you fucked yourself on them and his tongue in tandem. He was groaning and grunting, and you hoped his neighbours couldn’t see into the window at the desperate filth that was going on in his bedroom.
“Fuck, Joel, please,” you begged, but he had no mercy, and your orgasm was creeping up on you. He was ready to watch you come undone, pushing a second finger into you and furiously sucking on your clit. His other hand left his own pleasure and wrapped around your breast, pressing and playing with the hard nub there, pinching to provide a little bit of sting to it. It was sending you into another dimension.
“Come for me, sweetheart,” and his voice is gravely and debauched, enough to send you into your first orgasm, chanting his name and pulling on his hair. He was happily licking at you, fingers still pressing in and out as to not mess up the rhythm, as you rode out your orgasm against his face.
When you started to come down, he finally detached himself from you before standing up between your legs and pressing his broad palms to your thighs. He stayed there for a moment, cock still hard and heavy between his legs as you gazed up at him, out of breath from his work.
“You’re really good at that,” was all you could think to say, head clouded with arousal. You moved up on the bed a little, opening your legs and pressing your knees apart to show your pussy to him again.
“Please fuck me, Joel,” you breathe out, letting your hand find your own clit to rub it teasingly for him. It was still so sensitive, but the way he was looking down at you, eyes dark and stormy with need, you could almost come again just from that.
He put a knee down on the bed and crawled on top of you, his lips finding yours once again as your hands found his face. You held him there, savouring the kiss as his tongue crashed against yours, all warmth and spit and the taste of you. His hand found your breast and continued to play with your nipples, softly, coaxing more moans into his mouth from yours.
He leaned back and slipped his cock inside of you, filling you up immediately and making you gasp. He groaned into the side of your neck, tonguing the side of your ear and kissing you feverishly as he pumped in and out of you.
Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him impossibly close, your moans filling the room as he rocked in and out of you. He kissed your jaw and chest, before reaching down between your bodies and pressing his thick finger to your clit again, using the wetness there to draw circles around your sensitive nub.
“So pretty,” he smiles into your neck, your hand on the back of his, playing with the now-sweaty strands of hair on the nape. “So pretty for me, taking my cock,” the dirty talking is welcome as he continues to bring you closer to a second orgasm, your breath hitching once again.
“Come inside of me,” you say it like a whisper, a secret in the stillness of the room, and Joel is unsure he even heard you correctly.
“Are you sure?” He says it not accusingly, but in a way that conveys he feels like he just won the lottery.
“Yes, please, fill me up.”
You can see the way his eyes darken more, shifting so he’s on his knees and using your body to fuck himself on his thick cock. His hand continued to play with your clit, bringing you so close to your orgasm that tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. His cheeks were getting hot as he thrusted in and out furiously, and you could almost see the stress melt off of his face as he came close to his own undoing.
The white-hot feeling washes over you once again, eyes shutting before you’re back on your elbows and watching intently. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire as his thrusts become sloppy, your name pouring out of his lips like a prayer. You’re clenching around him and letting him ride out his high alongside you, slowing after his hot cum coats your walls and leaves you full of him.
He collapses on top of you, cock softening inside as you both catch your breath together. Your chests are sticky with sweat as you breathe, taking in the smell of him, and the feel of his warmth on your body.
He pulls himself from you and flops beside you, still taking a moment to admire you. You look over at him, a lazy smile on your face as your hand reaches out to caress the skin of his chest. He takes the time to run his fingertips up your arms and back as you lay there in silence together, just soaking in the moment in a post-sex glow.
“I guess I should get going,” you say after a few beats, sitting up to grab your dress off the floor. You cringe at the thought of throwing your underwear on and leaving, this being just another random hookup for you that never lead to anything. Joel was sweet.
A confused look spreads across his features and his brows knit together, before sitting up next to you at the edge of the bed.
“I mean, I don’t know how these things usually go,” he laughs, as his hand finds your lower back. “But you don’t gotta run outta here like a scared animal or somethin’.”
You look up at him again, unsure of what to do next. In your, albeit limited, experience with dating app hookups, you were expected to leave pretty much right after.
“Oh, um,” you look around the room at the soft worn-in sheets and the TV across from Joel’s bed. You take a look at him again, your eyes meeting his to match his gaze, where you can tell he’s mentally begging that you’ll stay the night.
“I mean, if you don’t mind, I’d be happy to stay.” Joel smiled lopsidedly and let his hand rub soothing circles at your lower back.
“I’ll make it worth your while,” he laughs, stepping over to go into the bathroom and warm up a cloth for the mess spilling out from between your legs. “I wouldn’t mind wakin’ up and doing all that again tomorrow.”
You laugh and lay back onto his bed as he presses the warm cloth to your pussy, his lips once again finding yours to pull you in for a sweet kiss.
You nod, sliding between the comfortable sheets as Joel runs downstairs to grab your abandoned drinks as well as a couple of bottles of ice cold water. He slips into the sheets next to you, not bothering to throw on any pajamas (not that you were complaining), and settling in beside you. After a few gulps of water, you nestled into his chest and let your hand find his tummy, resting on it as you listened to the even pattern of his breath.
“We should do this again. Like, after tomorrow morning.” you say quietly as you’re drifting in and out of sleep. His fingertips continues to slide across your arm and give you goosebumps as you snuggled closer into him, hearing a laugh exhale out of his nose and feeling a kiss press to the top of your head.
In his sleepy, deep southern drawl, he replies. “Don’t have to ask me twice, darlin’.”
#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#tlou fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x female reader#joel miller one shot#joel miller fic#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fanfic
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Pencil You In
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky thinks you've been working too hard and need a break. Word Count: Over 1.3k Warnings: Fluff, crying, reader is tired, slight insecurities, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Partially inspired by an image the beautiful @bucksangel sent me and life stretching me a bit thin, here's a little ficlet. Lovelies, take breaks. You deserve them and you are more than enough! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
You slumped in your chair of your home office as you reread the sentence on the screen for what felt like the hundredth time. Weariness had already settled deep in your bones long before you looked over the document, the words blurring together the longer you stared. Blinking a few times didn’t help as you reached for your mug, only to remember that you had finished your extra helping of caffeine an hour ago. Begrudgingly, you set it down and huffed as if it was somehow the fault of the cup that it didn’t automatically fill itself.
“Almost done,” you whispered to yourself, straightening up so you could do one last readthrough.
It was a long week in what felt like a series of long weeks. Almost every minute of your schedule was accounted for lately and all you wanted to do was relax. People were depending on you though and you could relax over the weekend.
Hopefully.
“You should take a break.”
You didn’t turn around immediately at the sound of Bucky’s gentle voice, but you did manage a smile when you glanced over your shoulder a moment later. He didn’t return the smile, concern swirling in his blue irises. You were afraid to stare into the pool of his eyes for too long out of fear of drowning.
And, god, you were drowning. It would be so easy to reach out and take the lifeline that was his hand. To just admit that you need some time to rest because you were tired. Hadn’t you earned it? Didn’t you deserve a break after the hard work you put in?
But maybe you didn’t deserve it. What you did wasn’t as important as someone like Bucky. You firmly shut the door on that thought before the words could make their way out of your mouth. If he could’ve read your mind and known you thought that, it would’ve disappointed him. Not in you, but whoever made you decide that what you did wasn’t enough.
Because you were always expected to do and be more.
“I will in a few minutes,” you said.
He let out a heavy sigh as he crossed his arms, making you tear your gaze away. You didn’t comment on his disheveled hair, like he kept running a hand through it. Likely because he worried about you stretching yourself too thin. “That was what you said a few minutes ago,” he reminded you, his voice light instead of accusatory.
You shut your eyes in the hopes that the tears wouldn’t come and took a breath. “I really will this time,” you promised, giving the document one last readthrough once you got your emotions under control.
“I’ll hold you to that,” he said.
If you wouldn’t take a break for your own sake, you had to do it for Bucky.
“Okay. I think that’s at a good stopping point,” you said, making you saved it before you closed it out. If you lost all of that after everything you put into it so far, you would’ve lost it. Before you could move to the next task on your list though, an alert popped up on your screen. Your heart dropped to your stomach because you didn’t remember scheduling anything else today. You didn’t have the mental or emotional capacity for more. “What is this?” You mumbled before you opened it.
Reading the subject line, you did a double take.
CUDDLE WITH BUCKY
You covered your mouth to smother your giggles. “I don’t remember scheduling this meeting.”
“It’s a good thing I remembered, baby,” he said as you spun around in your chair, sauntering over to you with a smirk as you tried not to laugh again. “It’s a mandatory meeting in our bed. No rescheduling. And I expect it to go the full hour. Maybe longer.”
“How did you manage to set up an alert on my computer?” You asked as he grasped your hands and helped you to your feet, having to steady yourself a bit when your head spun.
At least you remembered to eat. Well, that wasn’t technically true. Bucky brought you your meal earlier because he was the best boyfriend you could ask for.
“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he winked before he brought a palm to your cheek, his gaze shifting to something more serious. “But it seemed to get your attention.”
Your cheeks burned as you averted your gaze. “I wasn’t…” you trailed off, an apology on the tip of your tongue. Had you neglected him this past week? Or the ones before that?
Did he think you were a bad girlfriend?
Bucky slid his hand to your chin so you’d look at him again. “Hey,” he whispered when your lower lip trembled. “I didn’t mean anything by that and I’m not upset with you. I don’t think I could ever be upset with you. But, baby, you’ve been working your ass off even more than usual. I’m so fucking proud of you, but you need to take a real break.”
Your eyes burned, but no tears surfaced as he searched your gaze. “But-”
“What is it you always tell me about work?”
“That it’ll be there tomorrow, but we may not be” you answered, sighing. He was right. You couldn’t let work and expectations others set for you take control of your life. “I told you that the last time you ran yourself ragged with missions.”
He brought his mouth to your forehead to kiss it, his scruff tickling your skin. “And now I’m returning the favor,” he said against your skin. “So, come to bed. Lay with me. Just…”
“Be present,” you finished.
No phones. No work. No outside forces interfering. Just the pleasure of being with each other.
“Exactly,” he said, tugging you by the hand. “C’mon. We’re both late for our meeting.”
“Yes, Sir,” you teased, smiling when he groaned.
“This is a cuddle meeting, but it’ll turn into gently fucking you to sleep if you keep talking like that,” he warned you, pulling you to bed a bit faster.
“You say that like that’s a bad thing,” you smiled, gasping as he gently pushed you onto the mattress.
He braced a hand on each side of your head as he leaned down, his breath fanning your face when you whimpered. “Sex after we cuddle,” he breathed, sending a shiver down your spine. “Then we can cuddle again.”
You leaned up to brush your lips against his. “Deal,” you agreed.
Once he maneuvered you to the middle of the bed, his large body spooning yours, you couldn’t stop the tears that came. You bit your lip so he wouldn’t hear your soft sobs, but he must’ve sensed them as he grazed his nose along your neck affectionately and pulled you closer in his arms. You didn’t realize just how much you needed to be held until then.
It was as if all the stress faded away.
“I really am proud of you. Hardest working woman I know and always taking care of me,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your pulse as more tears hit the pillow.
“Because I love you, Bucky,” you whispered. Who wouldn’t want to take care of someone as amazing as James Buchanan Barnes?
“And I love you, too. So much,” he swore to you, turning you in his arms so he could kiss the tears away. The first kiss lingered on your cheek as he let out a shuddering breath. The sight of you crying likely broke his heart, but he didn’t say anything about it for your sake. “So let me be your personal hero today, okay? Let me take care of you and show that you’re more than enough.”
The words were so heartfelt and touching that you were surprised you didn’t melt on the spot. “You already are,” you promised before his lips met yours.
And he could pencil himself in for cuddles and more whenever he wanted.
I'll say it again, lovelies, you deserve breaks and you are more than enough. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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I would love to place an order!! Thick crust with Red sauce and topped with jalepenos, artichokes, roasted mushrooms, prosciutto, pulled pork, and pancetta served by Lando and Oscar….
(Thinking maybe Zak’s daughter 🤪)
Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu
thick crust sugar daddy red sauce rough sex jalapenos "Always such a fucking brat" artichokes "Imagine your father saw you now. On your knees like a proper trained slut for me to use" roasted mushrooms "Fucking you so good you I can see myself in your tummy” proscuitto "I love making this pretty pussy squirt" pulled pork "God, I love when I fuck the attitude out of you" pancetta "Your father always finds a way to piss me off" pink lemonade degrading kink vodka soda squirting dessert no served by Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri
Oscar x Lando x Brown! reader
AN - okay so my computer broke while writing this 😃 so I finished on my phone and will be getting my computer fixed sometime tomorrow and hopefully will be posting more tomorrow night!!
TW - fingering, squirting, double penetration, multiple orgasms, blow job, pussy eating, light M x M
WC
Y/N POV
"Pick one, gorgeous," Lando tells me softly while pulling me into his arms as we look at the different Louis Vuitton sunglasses.
"Lando, I have to save to travel the rest of the season. Sure my dad is paying for my travel but I want to be able to splurge the last little bit of the year," I respond back while moving out of his arms and towards Oscar who was looking at luggage.
"How many do you think you'll need?" Oscar asks while looking at the few designs the store had in stock.
"Oscar, none. I will need none. I have suitcases already. What are you and Lando even on right now?" I ask softly while Lando approaches up.
"We'll take two of these," Oscar told the worker while pointing to a large LV rolling trunk in the classic print with fuchsia accents.
"Oscar, what the fuck are you on? What are both of you guys on?" I whisper shout to both of the boys who just stare back at me with a smile.
"The deal," Lando responds making me think back to a few weeks ago when Lando and Oscar had offered to take me to bed in exchange for a shopping spree. I had in fact gone back with them that night but I had no intentions of using the shopping spree. I was content with the thought of spending the night with them and maybe more than just one.
"I thought it was a joke. I was more than happy to spend a night with you two," I tell them as the worker comes back with the new luggage as well as 3 different pairs of sunglasses.
"What the hell Lando," I asked horrified that he went ahead and picked several different pairs.
"You didn't tell me which ones you liked so I grabbed the ones you had picked up and looked at," Lando responds with a bright smile.
We where currently in Milan shopping around, and I had bought a few things here and there but for the most part I was just happy to be with the boys and watching them purchase the things they wanted.
"You're insane, help me pick ONE pair," I respond back while looking through the three pairs and finding my favorite and showing the boys.
"They're yours!" Lando cheers with excitement clearly written all over his face.
"You're insane," I laugh while handing the other two pairs back to the worker and handing Lando the sunglasses I had picked.
When we leave the Louis Vuitton store I ask if we can head back to the hotel. The boys agreed and we made our way back to our hotel.
When we got into the hotel I rushed into the bathroom and changed into a new lingerie set I had picked out while the boys were grabbing us food so neither of them knew what I had gotten.
"Hey, would you guys be able to come in here for a second," I call out to the boys while sticking my head out the bathroom door?
When I see both of the boys come into the bedroom part of the hotel suite I see a confused look written all over Lando's face and Oscar is waiting for me to explain with a raised brow.
"So when you guys went and grabbed food I bought something and I really hope you like it and don't think I look silly," I admit softly before opening the door to reveal the lacy black lingerie set I had picked out and was now wearing.
I watch the boy's reactions intently hoping I didn't get the wrong idea with everything.
"Fuck," I hear Lando mutter with wide eyes while Oscar is just observing the way it looked on me with a slight tint of pink on his cheeks.
"Look so good baby," Oscar finally speaks up while taking a step towards me and pulling me into him while placing a soft kiss on my lips.
"Okay, good! I was worried I was getting the wrong idea and it was only a one-off thing," I admit softly making Lando laugh as he steps behind me keeping me sandwiched between both of the boys.
As Lando is kissing my neck we are interrupted when I hear one of our phones go off making Lando groan and find the culprit.
"Your father always finds a way to piss me off," Lando says while handing my phone to show me that my dad, his boss was calling making me laugh while answering.
"Hey! How is your solo vacation going?" My dad asked through the phone making the boys smirk at me when they realize I had told my dad I was taking a solo trip.
"It's good! Just been enjoying the sun and a bit of shopping," I tell my dad as I watch Oscar get on his knees in front of me while Lando stands behind me.
Oscar pulls my lingerie to the side before taking a lick out of my soaked folds forcing me to hold back the moan I want to let out. I lean agaisnt Lando as Oscar picks up on my legs and lets it rest against his shoulder as he continues to eat me out as I talk to my dad about my trip. All being the truth of what I've been doing but keeping the fact that I'm with his two drivers a secret.
As the phone call is starting to wrap up I feel myself getting close to the edge making me try to push Oscar away not wanting to have an orgasm while on the phone with my dad.
"Alright, well I'll let you enjoy the rest of your week! Love you kid, I'll call tomorrow," I hear my dad tells me making me sign in relief.
"Love you too dad! Talk to you tomorrow," I rush out before ending the call and falling over the edge into a powerful orgasm.
"Fuck, Osc!" I cry out as I let my orgasm wash over me. I feel Oscar slip two of his fingers into my pussy not letting me come down from my orgasm fully before he is finger fucking my sensitive pussy almost instantly pulling a squirting orgasm out of me. I can feel my orgasm soaking everything near me, leaving me shaking in Lando's arms as Oscar continues to finger me through my orgasm.
"Fuck!" I scream out getting overwhelmed with the pleasure coursing through.
"I love making this pretty pussy squirt," Oscar groans while slipping his fingers out of me before standing up and pulling Lando in for a heated kiss making my knees grow weak at the two secret lovers express themselves truely.
"She tastes divine," Lando says when Oscar pulls away licking his lips for show. I can feel my face growing hot at the sight but can't deny the dull throb coursing through me.
I turn around allowing myself to face Lando before pulling Oscar to stand close to Lando before I sink onto my knees and start pulling off the boy's pants before taking both of their cocks into my hands.
"Fuck, she's such a well trained whore for us," Lando says while smirking at Oscar.
"Imagine her father saw her now. On her knees like a proper trained slut for us to use," Oscar says back to Lando making me whine at the teasing words.
I lean down and take Oscar into my mouth making him hiss at the feeling of my wet lips wrapping around his sensitive cock.
"Fuck," He groans when I start bobbing my head but quickly pull away and start giving Lando the same treatment while jerking Oscar off. I repeat this process a few times until Lando pulls me up by my hair and leads me to the bed where he pushes me onto it letting my back hit the matteress while he spreads my legs.
"Damn, be gentle! I'm not unbreakable," I tease with an eye roll making Oscar look at me with a cocked brow.
"Watch the attitude," Lando replies back.
"Make me," I reply back with a faint smirk on my face knowing it was just gonna rial him up. I feel Lando slipping the bottoms of my lingerie set off before roughly shoving his cock into my pussy leaving me no time to adjust to his size.
"Fuck, Lando so good," I moan loudly when I can feel Lando's large cock repetitively hit my sweet spots only he and Oscar had ever been able to find.
"God, I love when I fuck the attitude out of you," Lando teases while still fucking me at the brutal pace.
I can feel my next orgasm start approaching when lando slipped out of my cock and flipped us over so I was now riding his cock while Oscar slips behind us rubbing his fingers along my asshole leaving behind a cool gel I assume is lube.
"Fuck," I gasp when I feel Oscar's fingers slip into my ass stretching me out further.
"I'm gonna cum," I moan when Oscar and Lando start thrusting at the exact same time. I feel myself starting to cumm all over Lando's cock and Oscar's fingers.
I haven't even come down from the last orgasm when I feel the tip of Oscar's cock start pushing into my ass making me whimper. I had been so lost in my pleasure I didn't even notice him slipping his fingers out of my ass.
"Relax," Oscar whispers into my ear before he moves my hair to the side and starts kissing my neck. Lando has stopped his thrusting and started rubbing my clit softly trying to get me to relax enough to fully take both of their cocks at the same time.
"Fuck," I scream out when I feel Oscar bottom out in my ass fully stretching me to a whole new level.
"It's too mcuh," I cry trying to climb out of their laps but Lando gently holds me down.
"Relax sweet girl," Lando tells me while bringing his fingers back to my clit and rubbing circles. I could feel another orgasm starting to build almost instantly with how stimulated being compltetly full made me.
"Move slowly Osc," Lando grunts when he cn feel my pussy flutter around him with an approaching orgasm.
"Fuck, fuck fuck," I start moan chanting while Oscar is slowly rocking his hips in and out of me trying to allow me to get used to the stretch before fully fucking me.
When I feel Lando start thrusting up into me I can't help but start to cry at how overwhelming the pleasure has become.
"Fucking you so good you I can see myself in your tummy,” Lando grunts out making me look down to see the bulge every time he fucks up into me.
"Fuck, we stretched her so much we made room in her tummy," Oscar groans while looking over my shoulder to see the bulge Lando was creating.
"Oh fuck," I scream out when Lando brings his fingers back to my clit throwing me over the edge almost instantly.
"Fuck, soaking us again," Lando said with a smirk as I continue to squirt all over him and some of the back splashes hitting Oscar too.
With one final thrust into my ass I feel Oscar start to unlesh his hot cum in my ass making me whimper at the feeling. When he slips out of my ass I gasp at the feeling of his cum leaking from a hole I had never had cum leak out of.
"Fuck, she's so tight," Lando groans even without Oscar seated in my ass Lando was still being tightly hugged by my pussy walls.
I feel Lando start to pick up his pace clearly getting closer to the edge before he lifts and drops me down on his cock one final time before unleashing a massive load deep into my pussy making me moan.
When he's come down from his high he slowly slips out of me. Oscar comes bear us almost instantly with a warm rag where he cleans me off first before cleaning Lando off and climbing into bed on my other side.
Once we where all comfortable I start running my fingers through Lando’s hair as Oscar runs his fingers up my hips.
“That was perfect,” I announce softly making Lando give us a lazy smile a nod.
“Did so good for us! Took us so well,” Oscar says while kissing my cheek and leaning past me and giving Lando a quick soft kiss.
“We want you to be our,” Oscar announces softly making me turn my head towards him.
“Really? I would love that,” I reply back softly before pulling Oscar in for a proper kiss before turning back to Lando and kissing him.
#f1#formula 1#f1 imagine#f1 x you#formula 1 x you#formula one imagines#f1 smut#formula one smut#formula 1 smut#lando norris#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri#oscar piastri smut#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#lando x reader imagine#lando norris imagine#lando norris imagines#lando smut#lando norris smut#ln4 x y/n#ln4 smut#ln4 fluff#ln4 fic#ln4 imagine#op81 x reader#op81
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Year 3:
Now that I think about it, football has been a constant in my life for five years now. I’m not sure if I enjoy football anymore; it used to be about the fun we have passing the ball, now it’s all about the stats or the perfect form.
I stood up from the bleachers to hand Brad his towel.
“I’m going to leave the team, Brad,” I said.
“What? Where did this come from?” He said frantically.
“Everyone knows I’m still on the team because you’re the team’s captain now,” I said.
“I don’t want to cause tension between you and Coach. There’s nothing I could do wobbling around the field anyway,” I added.
“Dude, you know I started playing football because of you, right?” Brad said.
“Bradley, relax. I’m not dead. You can come over to my house whenever you want.” I said.
“Theo can make you some lemon pudding cakes if you want to come,” hopefully this will calm him.
“Fine. Just so you know, I’m not happy about this,” he said, sounding like a brat.
“Okay, got it. Have fun at the party,” I chuckled.
“I won’t. I’m going to make the DJ play Lana Del Rey,” he said before entering the locker room.
There might be an oversight of me quitting football.
It’s literally the reason why I quit. I don’t know why it never crossed my mind.
How the fuck am I going to lose weight now?
“Maybe I would’ve thought it if the word, “exercise” was anywhere on my to-do list this past year,” the voice from the back of my head said.
Shut up, rational thought. I was just a little too cocky, that’s all.
My mind spins around the paths I could take to shed the fat.
Back to the gym for the bodybuilders to laugh at me jiggling like a puddle of slime on the treadmill.
No. Hard no.
Stop eating whatever Theo puts in front of my face.
Productive, but I’d rather die than miss out on the joy of the world.
Post my weight loss journey edits on social media, reminiscing on my rock-hard abs like a depressed, fat person.
No? No, actually it might just work.
My thumbs got to work. It took me an hour to choose a profile picture that represents me. I could go for a vacation photo by the beach, or the classic black and white moody gym pic. Except, I don’t have a picture of myself on my phone, so I chose the picture of an orange cat eating a banana.
With my camera set up, in my favourite green tank top. I pressed record.
It was an embarrassing experience editing myself, watching my belly sway every time I made a movement. In the end, I closed my eyes and uploaded the video.
“Oh! First comment already.” I said.
“Look at those milkers spilling out the tanks!”
3. Post my weight loss journey edits on social media, reminiscing on my rock-hard abs like a depressed, fat person.
The following weeks consisted of me eating my feelings. At least half of my classes are online this semester. I can be embarrassed in peace.
The pounds kept creeping up with each spoon of ice cream down my throat. In the blink of an eye, I am dangerously close to 300 pounds.
I finally worked up the courage to ask during a normal family dinner.
“Honey, what happened? You’re not eating as fast as usual. Is Theo not cooking enough?” Mom asked.
“No, Mom, I just…I just hope you guys can ease up with your little cooking competitions.”
“Oh honey, you know Theo and I will stop with the food whenever you ask.” Mom tries to reassure me.
“No! Obviously don’t stop the food. It’s just that I’ve been blowing up like a pig and I don’t know what to do about it.” I said.
“I didn’t know you were sad about it. I just want my family to be happy, you look the happiest when you eat,” Mom said
“It wouldn’t have helped when you guys lost for the past two years,” Mom added.
“Well, Dad likes to eat better, and no one eats like him,” I replied.
“I’m sure my cooking was the reason we won. David is a gym teacher, he walks off the food easily,” Mom said.
“Theo is a professional though, no offence but no one on the planet cooks like him. I’m sure football was the reason we lost,” I said, trying to talk some sense into her.
Theo stares at us with wide eyes.
“Jacob, I’m sure you didn’t mean it,” Mom said with a blank face.
“You know what? Keep doing your competition, this time again next year we’ll see who’s the winner,” I said.
I am clearly a failure at losing weight. The only thing I’m good at is eating. If I’m going to gain weight anyway, I’m going to go all out and win this shit once and for all. Once this is settled, I can get back to normal. Not wanting to disappoint Theo when we lose again was probably the thing holding me back. I can’t wait to eat all the delicious things Theo is- I can’t wait for this to be over.
“Alright, Jay,” she turned to Theo and said.
“Theo, my boy. I’m looking forward to seeing the results next year,” Mom said with a determined smile.
Everyone knows not to mess with Mom when she has that look. Even then, I feel like we could still win. Theo’s food is hypnotic already when I am restrained; imagine what it will do to me when I’m going all out.
“What’s going on again?” Dad asked with cheeks full of pasta.
“Don’t worry baby, you just need to eat a little more next year,” Mom answered.
“Okay, as long as I get my lasagnas,” Dad said.
Later at night, struggling to sleep, I contemplated on the bad decisions I’ve made. This one might take the crown to be the stupidest thing I’ve done. Yet, I don’t regret it.
“You didn’t have to stand up for me,” Theo said.
“It’s the least I can do when you wake up early to prep for my food, or go off on the weekends for groceries when you could’ve been doing anything else,” I explained.
“Thank you so much, Jay. You don’t know how much this means to me. My family wanted me to do anything other than cooking, but you guys have been nothing but supportive,” he said.
I smiled at the ceiling. The gremlin is nicer than I remember.
“Now, I won’t allow you to slack anymore with the amount you’re eating. Not until the competition ends.”
Huh?
Theo had stuck to his word and increased the amount he was cooking. I am now eating the amount of three people in each spread-out meal, still lacking behind Dad’s impressive five person’s amount per meal. So I have been playing catch up with him this entire month.
I realized quickly that I had underestimated the gap between Dad and my appetite. In the last few years, for the most part, I have been eating whatever I want, leaving the rest to Dad. With the exception of eating for the team once a week, I have been slacking. That was quite a hard pill to swallow. I’m 300 pounds, yet not doing a good job as a fatass. How is that possible?
So far I have gained about 23 pounds in the past two months. Normally, I would freak out and have a breakdown in bed because I’ve gained more than my freshman year in two months. Right now with my messed up head, all I can think about is how far I am behind. If we lose this again, it would be once and for all, and I would never let myself live this down. Theo deserves better with how good he’s been treating me.
With my new bulk, the stairs have been an increasing challenge. So, a few weeks ago I moved downstairs to a tiny guest room that was converted to a storage room.
The moment I moved down, I could hear Theo’s voice yelling, “Yes, Finally! Goodbye insomnia,” In my old bedroom. Before, I would’ve yelled for the brat to shut up. Now, with my stomach full. I just wanted a nap in peace.
It took me no time to adjust to the new arrangement. With more time home from all the online classes, I get to be as lazy as I want. Dad has a similar arrangement at home. He retired from being a high school gym teacher and football coach, now he tutors history at home. He also abandoned his hobby of brewing in order to laze on the sofa all day.
On weekdays, Theo would leave an abundance of food for me to consume with a list of how I should eat them to expand my capacity. The weekends are like heaven. From the moment I woke up, Theo would prepare delicious appetizers and pancakes for me. From then on, I would have a constant stream of food flowing into my mouth every thirty minutes. Sometimes, I would move my hands and my mouth would start to chew unconsciously. Alarming, but helpful.
My belly started to expand outwards on my lap each day as I sat in front of the computer. The arm rest would feel more snug when I move around.
I have now discovered the perks of being a fatass. I can explore things I never had time to do, like the anime Brad has been begging me to watch, games I always wanted to play. Best of all is to experience all of these without moving an inch. These are the things I would definitely look back on with fondness when the competition ends.
***
Today is my rare outing of the month; the bus is late again but I don’t blame them this time. The downpour of rain is gathering at the clogged sewer, creating a puddle. People are supposed to grow out of stepping in puddles when they’re kids. These undeveloped assholes apparently didn’t. Several cars saw the puddle and decided to splash it straight to my face.
It’s fine. It’s all fine. I will feel better later.
I walked a small trail after getting off the bus.
Great. The angels decide to stop peeing from the heavens when I’m about to get inside.
Dad is buying a new SUV, maybe I can drive it next time. It’s too big to sneak off though.
I thought as I skipped through the stone pathway. The usual grass is covered by the water, creating a small pond.
“Annyeonghaseyo,” I said to the door cam.
After pressing the doorbell several times, it replied.
"안녕, fuck boy. Back so soon?" Number Seven said.
“Yeah, yeah. Just open the damn door,” I said, trying to hurry the fucker.
Number Seven’s face appears in front of me.
“You’re soaked! Come on in,” he said.
His house appears to be orderly. Clean. He must’ve had another fatass here not long ago.
“Woah, you look—Wait, let me guess. Another fifteen pounds since last time?” He asked.
“Come on, let’s cut to the chase. I really need it right now,” I urged.
“Hahaha, not even a shower. Desperate much?” He said.
I walked inside his bedroom, dimmed the lights and took off my shirt.
He walked towards me. Grabbing me by the belly hang in one hand, he pulls down my underwear, causing my ass to vibrate.
“Fuuuuck, can you take it out first?” I asked, trying not to moan.
“Sure, you think you’re ready for me today?” He asked.
“Yeah, I think so,” I answered.
He slid his hand behind, right down my ass crack and slowly pulled the vibrator off. I applied it before leaving home, without accounting for the possibility of the bus delay.
“Mmmmph, fuck,” I groaned.
I’ve been training towards today for a while. In the beginning, I would come to his house and he would suck me off. If I’m feeling experimental, I would suck him off. It stayed like that for about a year and he never complained. Then I asked him for more. He would start fucking me between my moobs or between my ass but never enter. One day, I told him I was ready for him to start fucking me.
Big mistake.
He’s a manwhore for a reason. I didn’t think an 8-inch would be so hard to take. How the girls and twinks take them in porn is beyond me. It was painful when he entered, even when he said he had “loosened my hole” with his fingers. I shouldn’t have believed him, the fucking thing was massive.
After the incident, he gave me small dildos and vibrators to get used to it. We eventually worked our way up the scale until the one he’s holding now. Why did I do all this work to have a men’s dick in my ass? Who knows. I have already accepted that I’ve lost it.
He sucked on my nipple suddenly. The sensation took me by surprise.
“Dude, some warnings please,” I asked.
“Yeah, sorry. Those tits are just so plumped. Your nipples have grown larger than my thumbs now,” he said, about to continue.
“OKAY, I get it. Can you get to work now?” I asked.
My boobs are what everyone thinks about when they see me these days. I’m sick of it.
“Hahahaha, can’t wait to be fucked, my pig?” He said before pushing me down the mattress.
I held my belly to stop it from jiggling.
He raised one of my legs and opened the bottle of lube with his teeth.
“There’s something by the pillow. Put it in your mouth. It will distract you and dull the initial pain,” Number Seven instructed.
I reached out to grab a—frosted pound cake?
I’ve never seen people doing this in porn, but I’m smart enough to know not everything in porn is real.
With my mouth full of cake, I spread out my legs, trying to relax so I don’t end up like last time.
He pushed two fingers in, slowly massaging me, then three fingers to stretch my hole. When the frosting melted in my mouth and I finished the chunk of the cake, he signalled me that he was done.
Another piece of the pound cake fills my mouth when he aligns his cock to my hole. He was right, I was fully consumed by the sweetness to notice any discomfort. I quickly swallowed the cake so he could proceed.
It was unbearably slow as he entered. I don’t understand what all the fuss is about with people bottoming.
He kept asking for reassurance. At this point I just want him to st—
“A-ahhhh oh shiiit!” I moaned.
“Fuuuuuck, what the hell was that?” I screamed.
I must have been too loud and spooked him.
“Are you alright? Sh-should I call an ambulance?” He asked.
“No! Don’t stop, please,” I begged
“Okay, just so you know, I’m not all the way in,” He said.
How? This is already longer than any toys I’ve put in there.
“Gnghhhhh~” I moaned as he thrusts all the way to the bottom.
He kept a steady pace all the way in then almost all the way out, leaving me feeling empty.
“Hurry! Faster,” I asked, almost in tears.
He looked at me with a devious smile and thrust right into the spot.
“Mphn- Yes! Keep going,” I urged.
Every small movement rubbing my G-spot feels like masturbating for hours without release.
He thrusts quicker with more force, causing my belly and moobs to shake violently.
I try to stabilize my belly with my hand before trying to reach my throbbing cock.
“Help, I-aghh fuck, I need to touch my dick,” I asked.
“Let go of your belly, fat boy. Or I’ll stop,” He said.
Immediately, my belly returned to wobble violently.
“I can’t believe you turned into such a pathetic horny mess in such a short time,” He said.
”Come on, Seven. I just need you to hit that spot. Please, I’ll do anything!” I begged.
He keeps deliberately missing it. I need to be fucked there!
“Keep your hands on your nipples,” he ordered.
The over-sensitive nipples drive my weeping cock into a frenzy.
Fuck, I need to touch my cock right now. If only my fucking belly is not on the way.
“You know, when I first saw you, I thought you were the kind of jock to gain a beer belly in college, and not get fat until you turn thirty,” he said, before ramming straight into my prostate.
“Fuuuuck yeahhh,” I said unintelligently.
“You are much more of a pig than I realized,” he said, thrusting straight into it again.
“Helll yeahhh,” I said, trying to rob my ass to his dick.
“How do you feel seeing your bubble butt balloons four times the original size?” He asked, followed by another thrust.
“I fucking love it! I love how it wobbles around whenever I walk!” I said, moving my jiggling ass back to his dick again.
“How do you feel seeing your abs growing before your eyes, knowing you could stop it if you just stop eating?”Another thrust.
“I can’t help it! I love eating too much!” Maybe I am meant to be a fat ass.
“Right answer. Now you’ll get your reward,” he said and sped up, hitting the spot perfectly every time.
I imagine his face to be someone else, someone far from my league.
My cock rubbed against my sensitive underbelly, and I shot out jets of cum for what felt like forever.
As white clouded my vision, a euphoric relief spread over my body, melting me into the mattress.
“You passing out again, fuck boy?” Seven asked.
“No, just enjoying the bliss. I can’t believe so many men in the world are missing out on this,” My hole already feels empty. How am I going to go back from this?
“Aww man, I’m all sticky and shit,” I examined my body, cum shots and rain definitely don’t mix well together. Some of them even got between the fat folds. I swipe my finger in between the fat. “Oof, I stink too.”
Seven looked at me and signed. “You’re somehow still a stupid jock inside.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked.
“I got you the fast food you asked for,” he said.
“Yes!” I rushed to the kitchen.
Ignoring his stupid laugh, I microwaved the burger and fries.
The breeze of the air conditioning reminds me of something.
“Shit, I ran out here naked.”
When I ran back, he had already put my clothes in the dryer, and I got into the shower.
When I got out, Seven brought me an old shirt I left here. It fits me like a glove with half my belly exposed. He stopped laughing when I was about to throw myself on him, then brought out a shirt with the Flash’s symbol on. Probably from another fat ass he fucks. The shirt still looks painted on, revealing the shape of my nipple and the dent of my belly button. At least he’s driving me home.
***
Staying at home has been a life-altering experience.
The only time I ever move is going out of the bed to the desk, or to the bathroom. All I have to do is sit back, relax, and eat some fried food.
With more time with myself. I’ve realized how much I dislike all the people in school that only approached me because I was one of the football jocks. I could’ve been anyone. Now, I am me. Not a worry about whether or not I’m muscular enough like other jocks, just a bigger Jay.
Sitting beside me, Dad scratched his belly and released a belch without a care in the world. He has adapted to fat guy mannerisms quickly. I’m catching up too. Today is movie night, usually we have pizzas and beers. We started this when the football season came, he asked to skip it. It was the first time we’ve skipped watching a Super Bowl season. I guess I’m not the only one losing interest in the sport. We decided to watch the Lin-Manuel Miranda Monkey movie instead.
Being on the couch with Dad made me realize I was getting closer to my goal. I can’t wait to see the results.
***
“Hell yeah, my man, you can do it!” Brad said, slapping my shoulder.
“What are you doing here?” I asked
“You said I can come in whenever I like,” he replied.
He’s been breaking into my house for no reason, just to stay on the second floor the entire time doing god knows what.
“I’ve brought some beef jerky here to celebrate,” Brad said.
The scale has been set up, we’re only waiting on Mom. They’re doing some last minute catch up; mom is using a funnel to pour some milkshake in him. I am not concerned though, sticking to Theo’s strict diet every day has not been easy. I have to eat until my stomach is fully bloated. Every morning, I watch my belly deflate a little less, every evening, it bloats even further.
“Don’t worry, Jay. We’ve got this,” Theo assured me.
“By the way, what are we doing again?” Brad asked.
Dad came out, looking absolutely massive. With Mom on his side, he stepped on the scale.
The numbers keep going up and don't seem to be stopping.
300-350-392-400-443
Holy shit, Dad gained a hundred and forty pounds this year.
With more uncertainty, I took my step on the scale.
“Woo-Hoo, Jay man, you got this!” Brad shouted quietly.
I try to look under to see the number, but my belly is too big for me to see the scale.
Theo stepped closer and read.
“Four Hundred and fifty yes!” Theo cheered.
“I won? Yes, finally!” I said and did a little jump.
The scale made a “Pop” noise.
“Oh! Sorry, Mom. I know this is really expensive.”
“Don’t worry, sweetie. We need to upgrade anyway,” Mom said, then she walked towards Theo.
“Congratulations Theo, you made me pull out every trick in my book. It’s so nice seeing you improve so much in front of my eyes, in terms, you pushed me to improve too,” Mom said, then hugged Theo.
“I can’t believe my boy is bigger than me now. Excellent work, Jay!” Dad said and hugged me, too.
Last time I was bigger than Dad I had sculpted abs, the body I dreamed of. This time, I’m almost three times the size as I was, fully covered with fat. Yet, I feel less empty inside.
“Thank you Dad,” I said, hugging him back.
After all this time, I finally have a body I like being in. The belly doesn't look so wrong on me anymore.
Chapter 4 ->
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for the fear of falling apart | part five
there's one last chance for everything to fall apart, but this time you aren't at the center of disaster - Spencer is
part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue
series masterlist
who? spencer reid x jareau!reader category: angst content warnings: lots of future talk (marriage and pregnancy), takes place during 15x10 "and in the end", explosions, the chameleon arc, spencer's hospital stay, sibling loss, diana's alzheimers, canon cm violence word count: 7.34k a/n: so this is the last part! i can't resist doing an epilogue, so a cutie little "where are they now" part on the horizon, but this was always the way it was going to end. as always, telling me your thoughts is the sexiest thing you can do.
“She’s not a threat,” Spencer pointed out, carrying on a conversation with you while he adjusted the straps of your bulletproof vest, pulling it tightly around you to cover as much of your torso as possible. You’d complain about him taking away your ability to breathe but if it brought peace to his busy mind, you could sacrifice your full lung capacity.
You flattened your palm against the SWAT truck for support while he resumed tugging at the Velcro straps of your Kevlar, “Speak for yourself! You’re not the favorite stepdaughter of a woman that you can’t stand.”
Deciding your vest was as secure as it was going to get, Spencer stood up, sharing a look with the SWAT commander before turning his attention back to you, “Why are you the favorite stepdaughter again?”
Dramatically, you tilted your head back and looked at the sky, “Because JJ had a child out of wedlock. I’m the favorite by default.” It was funny to think of your stepmother choosing you as a favorite, but you supposed the pickings were rather slim. “Hey,” you continued, “There’s an idea.”
“Uh huh,” Spencer responded mockingly, “Pick a new subject, please.”
Rolling your eyes, you rested fully against the armored truck, scuffing your boots against the gravel driveway to Everett Lynch’s house. “You’re no fun,” you accused, trying to use your family issues as a discussion to pass the time before you had permission from Emily to put your plan into motion.
Spencer hummed in response, watching your sister as she answered her phone and hopefully received instruction from Emily. You didn't like lingering out here like sitting ducks, no matter how many armed agents there were with you.
Matching JJ’s gaze, she nodded to you and Spencer, letting you know that Emily had given the go-ahead.
Quickly, Spencer slipped his phone from his pocket and dialed the number that he had previously memorized. You heard the phone ring as he held it up to his ear, and then a woman’s voice came through, “No, Roberta my name is Dr. Spencer Reid and it’s important that you listen to me right now.” He fed the Lynch matriarch instructions over the phone, “Even though you have the gun, the moment your son realizes you’re not gonna shoot him, he’s gonna get the upper hand.”
You couldn’t make out her response, but based on the way Spencer’s eyebrows were pinched together, you worried he wasn’t getting through to her.
“Yes,” he answered over the phone, “but first you need to let Olivia walk out of there, okay?” The next step was simple enough, and not long after he spoke, you saw the teenager run out of the house.
JJ had the opportunity to take the Chameleon out earlier that day, but he’d used Olivia and her diabetes as a bargaining chip. You lingered with Spencer while JJ ran out to meet her, gently guiding her behind the barricade to the waiting ambulance.
Instinctively, you set your hand on your firearm as a single gunshot rang out from the house, “Roberta,” Spencer urged, “that warning shot is what’s about to give you away, but we can help. Are you ready for us to come in?” He waited almost too long before speaking again, “Roberta?”
He looked back at the SWAT captain as everything hinged on Roberta’s response, and when Spencer gave the order to breach, you took your spot next to the armored truck. Your instructions were very clear, you were in charge of Everett once he was apprehended, and JJ was in charge of Roberta.
Across from you, JJ’s phone rang, you couldn’t hear either end of the conversation, but you could see the fear in her eyes when she looked up at Spencer and all of the other SWAT agents headed toward the structure. You took a few steps forward, trying to follow after Spencer, but JJ shouted your name and caught your attention right as the bomb went off.
The blast warped your perception of time. You looked back at the house on fire before your eyes automatically searched for Spencer. Everything was moving in slow motion, but even so, there he was, on the ground. “Spence,” you yelped before scrambling forward, dropping to your knees at his side.
Spencer started to rise from the driveway, propping himself up on his elbows. He likely couldn’t hear you, based on the way your own ears were ringing while you checked him over for injuries.
“Are you okay?” You asked him anyway, “Baby, can you hear me?” He tried to sit up, but you settled your hands on his shoulders, “No, it’s okay, stay down.” You continued to speak to him, taking time to shout instructions for the now scrambled first responders.
JJ called your name again, causing your head to snap in her direction, “Your head is bleeding,” she told you, jogging toward you and Spencer.
You rose on shaky legs as your sister took your face in her hands, frantically checking the wound that you couldn’t feel. Waving away paramedics, you urged them to assist the downed SWAT agents instead of you, “It’s fine, Jayg,” you breathed, straightening yourself out and keeping an eye on Spencer.
“Are you feeling alright?” You whispered to Spencer, noting the lack of focus in his eyes, you resisted the urge to wave your hand in front of his face.
He hummed in response, “I’m fine.”
Unable to help it, you frowned at him. ‘Fine’ had been his only sensation from the moment you arrived at the hospital in Reno until now. ‘Fine’ was a term used by people who were avoiding any genuine emotion, and you couldn’t entirely blame him. Last you heard the casualty count from the explosion was up to seven – including Everett and Roberta Lynch.
He’d gotten an MRI at the hospital – not that you’d given him much choice – and it came back clear, so the rest of the team wasted no time in having the jet prepared to return to Quantico.
It wasn’t the silence that unnerved you, it was the absence of activity. Your sister sat in one of the chairs, periodically turning her head to check on you, Rossi and Matt had claimed their own spots throughout the aircraft, and you and Spencer were sequestered next to the galley. Everyone seemed to be disassociating from the events of the day.
You willed Spencer to pull a book out of his bag and start reading. You silently begged him to do something that you could find comfort in. Instead, he noticed you staring and leaned over to gently kiss the unmarred side of your forehead.
Taking a raincheck on Penelope’s vision-boarding, you made sure the two of you got home in one piece. “Do you need to clean it?” Spencer asked, gesturing to the mark on your forehead.
You kicked off your shoes in the entryway, rubbing the exhaustion from your eyes as he sat down on the couch. “No, maybe in the morning,” you responded. “Are you gonna come to bed?”
“In a bit,” he offered, leaning his head back to look at you one more time before you disappeared into the bedroom.
There were a lot of things about the day that didn’t make any sense, but the one thing you couldn’t wrap your head around was Everett Lynch’s suicide. Not to be mistaken with sympathy, you didn’t understand how his particular personality type could choose to blow itself up. He was too confident, too narcissistic for that.
The doubt kept waking you up, each time you hoped to find that Spencer had finally come to bed. Once the clock struck four in the morning and he still hadn’t come to lie down, you crawled out of bed, expecting to find him asleep on the couch.
Your heart dropped when you found him on the floor, dried blood crusted around his nose, deathly still.
Phone, phone, phone – where was your phone?
Grabbing his phone off of the coffee table, your head spun as you dialed 911, crouching next to him as you tried to make out the sound of his breathing.
In a four-in-the-morning fugue, you went through the motions, answering all of the dispatcher’s questions, all of the paramedic’s questions, and all of the nurse’s questions.
The emergency department nurse looked at you sadly, not much more than a pile of limbs in a stiff plastic chair, “Is there anyone I can call for you?”
Swallowing thickly, you shrugged in response. You wanted her to call everyone and no one at the same time, building up walls around yourself made of materials that you couldn’t name. You needed to call Emily. You needed to call Diana. Frowning at the nurse, you gave it another moment of thought before responding, “My sister.”
JJ didn’t answer.
The nurse tried her twice and you called once from your phone, but there was no answer.
Spencer didn’t wake up. Dr. K didn’t seem confident that he would.
Like a metronome, the steady beeping of Spencer’s vital monitor nearly lulled you to sleep until the ringing of a phone interrupted the pattern. Your phone buzzed in your pocket and your stomach lurched at the realization that your sister was finally calling you back, “I have been trying to reach you all morning.”
Your sister was silent on the other side, and you wondered if you had come on too strong. “What happened?”
The world was falling apart around you. Your castle was crumbling with you in it. You looked longingly at Spencer before you answered, “I think he’s dying.”
Time passed in an inordinate pattern, convincing yourself that hours had passed when it had only been minutes. You had moved your chair to Spencer’s bedside, tracing the scar on the inside of his palm in time with the steady rising and falling of his chest.
“Have you been here all night?” Your older sister’s voice rang from the doorway, she didn’t wait to be welcomed in, immediately moving to the side of the bed opposite to you.
Your eyes followed her hand as she gently set a palm on his shoulder, her blonde hair curling around her face as she studied Spencer’s appearance. Quickly, she caught herself, straightening up and making her way around the bed so that she stood behind you, smoothing a hand through your hair like she did when you were just kids.
Penelope followed behind JJ on a delay, her skin paling at the sight of Spencer in the hospital bed. She stood at the foot of the bed, placing her hands on the footboard and taking several deep breaths.
“I went to bed without him last night. I wasn’t sleeping well, so when I woke up at four in the morning and he hadn’t made it to bed I went to see if he had fallen asleep on the couch, but he was just… on the floor,” You told them absently, watching Spencer as he slept and recalling the way you had found him in the apartment. His body contorted from falling on the ground with a puddle of blood beginning to gather beneath his head.
You couldn’t look at them. You couldn’t look away from him knowing that it could be the last time you see him alive. “What do you need?” JJ asked, continuing to smooth down your hair.
Clasping his hand in yours, you nodded to yourself reassuringly, “Can you call Brookfield? I need to talk to Diana. If she’s lucid enough, can you ask if they can bring her here? If he… she should be here.” Sinking into an abyss of unknowns, at the very least you knew that he’d want his mother here with him.
The two blondes shared a wary look, and you steeled yourself for a difficult conversation. Penelope left to call Brookfield on your behalf, but JJ stayed behind, dragging one of the plastic chairs over to the bed so she could sit next to you. “We got the casualty report back from the medical examiner in Reno,” she informed you; her voice was low – the tone she took up when she wasn’t sure how to navigate a situation.
You nodded in understanding, waiting for the bomb to drop.
“There were six SWAT agents, Roberta Lynch, and Orlando Gaines,” she told you gently, watching your face for any sign of a reaction.
You frowned, expecting her to add Everett Lynch to the tally later on for dramatic effect, but the moment never came, “Oh,” you breathed, looking at Spencer.
JJ continued to explain that, based on the blueprints of the house that he had pilfered from one of his victims, he had likely escaped using a tunnel system beneath the house. The Chameleon was in the wind, and Spencer might just be his latest victim. “We know he’s not done though,” JJ tried to reassure you, “He’ll resurface somewhere.”
“We don’t know where and we don’t know when, though,” you told her, an edge of despair creeping into your voice. He should’ve died. Everett Lynch should be dead, and you shouldn’t be sitting next to Spencer’s hospital bed right now. “And Spencer might die for no reason,” you added. There was a slight chance that you could, someday, find comfort in Spencer succumbing to injuries sustained in a blast that took out The Chameleon, but with Lynch still out there, you were struggling to find any glimpse of a silver lining.
Your sister looked at a loss for words, reaching out her hand and dropping it to your knee when you didn’t take it. She mumbled something about letting it go for Spencer’s sake, but Spencer was unconscious, if you held on to your grudge against your sister, he was none the wiser. It brought you back to something he had told you after Grace Lynch shot you – I don’t want you to forget your anger.
Glancing over at her briefly, you took a deep breath, “You should get back to Quantico – the team will need you to catch Lynch.”
“No,” she said, pinching her brows together, “I’m going to stay here.”
Pursing your lips, you gave her a sidelong glance, “Why?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why are you going to stay here, JJ? Do you want to stay at the hospital for my sake or for Spencer’s?” Keeping your hand tucked into his, you didn’t budge when she pulled her hand off of your knee, and even then, you had your answer. “I’m asking you to please, go back to Quantico and find Everett Lynch. Spencer will have me, his mom, and Penelope with him and I need you to find the person who did this to him. I’m asking you to go, so you aren’t staying for me.”
She was looking at you in pure disbelief, “Ducky, I don’t-“ She faltered, “I thought we were all friends again. You told me you understood where I was coming from.”
Nodding in agreement, you recalled the conversation you had with her while Spencer was with Cat Adams, “I told you I understood how you could be in love with him because I’m in love with him, but I have limits, JJ, and there comes a point where I just can’t understand why you keep using your love as a weapon.”
“I- I’m not,” she insisted, but you could hear the unease in her voice.
You shrugged, “Maybe it’s not your intention, but you are fighting a one-sided battle. You’re married and Spencer and I are engaged, and you have single-handedly destroyed our relationship.”
JJ scoffed in disbelief, “You and Spencer seem to be doing just fine.”
“I’m not talking about me and Spencer, I’m talking about me and you,” you corrected her. “At Rossi’s wedding, you told me that you had meant what you said to Spencer when you were in the pawn shop, and every day since then you have refused to give me the space that I’ve asked for.” Your hands shook as your eyes flittered between her and your fiancé, “You’re my big sister, JJ. You’re always going to be my big sister, and I am always going to love you because of that, but we aren’t friends, so don’t try to pretend you’re doing this for me.”
She tilted her head to the side, “I didn’t want space – you’re my sister.”
“But I needed space,” you emphasized, the one thing that JJ had never seemed to understand. You were the one who got hurt in the process, “I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired, and I can’t pretend to be your friend anymore while you can’t even be a decent sister. You tell me that you and Spencer have all of this history, that you’ve known each other for fifteen years, but you’ve been my sister for thirty-two. You keep asking for me to hear you out, and yet you haven’t once listened to me. Go back to Quantico, go find Lynch, and be my fucking sister.”
You couldn’t be friends with someone who had been long harboring a crush on your partner, and it didn’t make sense for you to make any exceptions for her. “Okay, I’ll um… I’ll go,” she told you, hesitating for a moment before she nodded to herself and walked out of the room. You knew what you told her stung, you were sending her out with her tail between her legs, but you didn't have the gracefulness to coddle her anymore.
Slowly, you leaned your head down, gently setting your chin on the sidebar of Spencer’s hospital bed, keeping a watchful eye on him even as tears streamed down your face.
Your eyes were dry by the time Diana arrived, being guided by one of her nurses and intercepted by Garcia, who had known better than to ask any questions when your sister left in a hurry. With your sight zeroed in on the rising and falling of Spencer’s chest, you listened to the conversation, “Oh, Diana, hi,” Penelope said, unable to hide the panic in her voice, “Hi, it’s Penelope. I work with Spencer. I’ve come to see you before,” she explained.
Garcia had tagged along multiple times to see Diana at Brookfield, which was likely why they were so receptive when she called the facility. “You’re almost as tall as I am,” Diana responded and your heart sunk, worried that she might not be stable enough to face this.
“Diana,” Penelope continued gently, “Spencer fell, and he hit his head really hard, and he’s not conscious.” Her words were carefully chosen to avoid raising any alarm.
“Well, let’s wake him up,” Diana insisted, and you straightened up at the sound of footsteps approaching, “Let’s see him.”
Penelope practically stumbled in behind her, “No, wait.”
His mother nodded, not even acknowledging you as she walked in, “He’ll listen to me… Spencer,” she called to him. Seconds later, you saw it, the moment the switch in her brain flipped and an internal war started, “it’s not him,” she murmured. “No. No, no, no,” the conviction in her voice broke your heart, “This is not my son.”
Silently, you sat back in your chair, trying to think of something you could say to her to reassure her, but you couldn’t even console yourself.
Then she reached out for his hand, turning his wrist over and exposing the inside of his wrist, the small star-shaped scar that marred his skin facing the ceiling, “Oh, my baby,” she breathed. “Oh, my baby,” she leaned over Spencer, smoothing his hair away from his forehead, cupping his face with her hands, and begging with an unknown force, “Oh, please.”
Unable to tolerate the sight of her begging for Spencer to wake up, you quietly got up from your chair, hugging your arms around yourself before walking out of the room.
For years, Diana and Spencer had been all each other had, and you couldn’t imagine what this was like for her. To have her son fighting for his life in the hospital while she spent every day trying to hold on to fleeting memories of him. You couldn’t watch her, afraid of losing him. It wasn’t supposed to work like that – parents weren’t supposed to have to bury their children.
You thought about calling your mom, knowing she’d drop everything and drive the four hours to come be with you, but maybe it would be cruel. It would be cruel to have her watch a parent lose a child when she had lost her own.
Leaning your head back against the taupe walls of the hospital, you glanced over at Penelope, giving her a stiff smile.
“Hey, you,” she said, shoving her laptop in her bag before making her way over to you. “How are you holding up?”
You laughed humorlessly, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes before looking back up at her, “I’m not entirely sure that I am.”
Her eyes were filled with grief, and you knew that she was another person in Spencer’s life who didn’t deserve more loss, “Can I get you anything? Have you eaten?”
Food had been approximately the last thing on your list of concerns today, but you hadn’t eaten since Reno yesterday. You shook your head, “I’m not hungry,” You were actually a bit queasy, but you weren’t entirely sure if you were nauseous from your current predicament or if it was because you hadn’t eaten anything. “Maybe later,” you tried to appease her.
“Okay,” she sighed, “I don’t know what happened between you and JJ, but I do know that something happened. I might not know what it’s like between sisters, but I do know what it’s like to be a sister.” Garcia gave you a soft smile, “Do you need to talk about it?”
Desperately. Your chest ached at the idea of being able to talk to someone else about what had gone down between you and your sister, but you shook your head, “I’m sworn to secrecy.”
The understanding expression on her face deepened the ache in your chest, but she reached out and pulled you into a hug, “I know the two of you will figure it out.” She pulled away, sweeping tears from under her eyes, “I know you said you’re not hungry, but I’m going to go down to the cafeteria and I’ll get you something to pick at. You look like you need it.”
You smiled at her concern and gave her a small wave as she made her way through the hallways. It was sweet that she had faith in the sororal bond between you and JJ – even more than you had, but you just didn’t see it the way she did. There had always been an expectation of you and JJ growing up that you’d always make up because you were the only sibling that each other had left.
That expectation had led to a lot of issues being swept under the rug, maybe too many issues, but you couldn’t forgive JJ, not fully. Even under the weight of the obligation to forgive her for the sake of your familial tie, you couldn’t let this one go. JJ had broken any semblance of trust between the two of you, and even if you worked to rebuild that trust, the cracks were always going to be there.
When you and Spencer had fought and you knocked a bowl off of the counter, he made a remark about how the bowl could be fixed with kintsugi, but the bowl would always have cracks, no matter how pretty the gold looked in the seams. You and JJ would never get back to where you had been, and now, you were sure that you didn’t want to go back.
Wiping a few stray tears from beneath your eyes, you nodded to yourself before walking back into the hospital room, introducing Diana and Dr. K before the doctor gave you some information, telling you that Spencer’s brain was bleeding.
Tilting your head to the side, “No, I made sure he got an MRI at the hospital. The doctor there told us it was completely clear,” you assured her, remembering how you refused to let Spencer board the jet without getting an MRI.
Dr. K nodded, “We got the scans sent over from the hospital in Reno, there’s a small bleed that was possibly overlooked. From what you’ve told me, it seems like they were overwhelmed and needed to get other people through,” she told you, making it seem like no more than a clerical error.
“So…” you dragged out the vowel, trying to wrap your head around this reality, “His brain’s been bleeding since yesterday?”
The doctor affirmed your suspicions, “Boarding a plane with even the smallest of brain bleeds can have catastrophic consequences. In Spencer’s case, it’s caused intracranial hemorrhaging. Parts of his brain are shutting down and other parts are struggling to survive.”
Your stomach flipped at the mention of his brain shutting down, the term was far too close to brain death for comfort, “Is he… is he already gone, then?” You asked, faltering over your words.
“No,” she gave you some reassurance, “There’s a chance that his brain bleed will resolve on its own.”
“But not a good chance,” you observed, taking Spencer’s hand in your own. “Is there anything that can be done?”
The doctor adjusted the tablet in her hands, “The conservative approach would be surgery. It may reduce the swelling around Spencer’s brain faster. There is risk, it could cause seizures and even more bleeding,” she explained to the both of you.
The image in your mind of brain surgery didn’t bring you any reassurance, you looked up at Diana. Until you and Spencer got married, she was his next of kin. Spencer didn’t have any kind of healthcare directive for a situation like this, and you weren’t entirely sure where to go from here.
His mom shrugged at you, shaking her head, “I thought it was Tuesday, and it’s not Tuesday. So, I can’t tell you,” she answered, looking at you helplessly.
Turning your head to Dr. K, you asked, “Could we have a minute?”
The doctor gave you both an understanding look before stepping out of the room.
“What would he want?” Diana asked you, looking at you expectantly, “I don’t want to make the decision.”
Abhorring the idea that you would be the one to make the decision, you looked up at Diana, “I’m not sure,” you admitted.
“He always says he trusts you the most,” she told you. “Oh, for years in his letters, he’d always talk about you. Even before you started dating – it was always about you in a way I’d never heard him talk about anyone,” she continued, nodding as if she were convincing herself. “If he trusts you that much, then I have no problem trusting you.”
You didn’t want it to be up to you, and before you had the opportunity to answer, the alarm on Spencer’s vital monitor started going off. “Oh my god,” You breathed, moving back to allow the nurses space as they crowded around Spencer’s bed.
“What’s happening to my boy?” Diana asked, placing her hands in front of her mouth in shock, “What is happening to him?”
Watching quietly as he seized, you listened to his mom cry out for him and decided you wanted to wait a bit longer before resorting to surgery.
Picking at the bread of the sandwich that Penelope had gotten you from the cafeteria, you found yourself more amenable to sipping at the water she had brought you than you were toward actually eating something. According to Garcia, the team was hot on Everett Lynch’s trail, but she wouldn’t give you any more details than that.
Periodically, Spencer’s hand would twitch, but you told yourself it didn’t mean anything. You tried not to get your hopes up, not until Dr. K said something reassuring.
With the doctor in the room, there were four pairs of eyes watching his every move, no matter how minuscule. You leaned back in the chair, gently tracing the lines in his palm, “His… his eyes are fluttering,” you observed aloud, not daring to look away, afraid your mind was playing tricks on you.
“That’s a good sign,” Dr. K said, leaning forward and observing the same thing as you.
Penelope inclined her head to look up at the doctor, “Is he gonna be okay?”
She looked uneasy, “He’s putting up one hell of a fight, but it’s still too early to know for sure,” she answered diplomatically, checking something on her tablet before excusing herself.
Shortly after, Garcia’s phone started to ring, she brought it out into the hallway, letting you know she’d be right back.
Leaving just you and Diana in the room with Spencer, you watched as she continued to smooth his hair back, being able to see the maternal gesture made your chest ache – you never knew how many more moments there would be. “Has he been here before?” She asked you, “In the hospital, like this?”
You nodded slowly, moving through a fog of exhaustion as the day came to an end, “Yes,” you told her, memories of Briscoe County bubbled to the surface.
“Were you there for him?” She continued, wondering if someone had been there for her baby when she couldn’t be.
You had sat around his hospital bed with Alex and Penelope, waiting for him to wake up while Penelope set up Doctor Who figurines throughout the room. “Yes,” you answered again.
“Oh,” she sighed, “How awful,” she commiserated.
While a corrupt precinct wasn’t a new concept to the BAU, that case had been particularly difficult on the team, and there had been a day, much like today, where you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to tell Spencer you loved him again.
You didn’t tell him you loved him before going to bed last night.
“It was, actually,” you remembered, previously buried memories of time spent in hospital rooms. Months ago, your roles had been reversed, and Spencer had been the one begging you to wake up.
After a moment, Diana leaned forward a bit, “Spencer,” she spoke to him, “I saw some cumuliform heaps today. His favorite clouds,” She added the last bit for you, “I plucked that for him,” she explained as Penelope came back into the room. “Everything is up there, and we pluck what we want when we want, and we let go what we don’t.”
Penelope grinned, “That sounds very good. Okay, I am plucking a memory about Spencer’s eyes, and they are brown with gold on the outside,” she posited.
Diana hummed, “I think they’re gold on the inside.”
Tantalizingly slowly, Spencer’s eyes started to open, and your heart raced as a mix of emotions flooded through you. As your eyes met him, you smiled sadly and whispered, “Gold on the inside.”
“Hey,” Garcia said, the smile plain in her voice, “we were just plucking eye memories of you.”
He returned the smiles in the room, “I heard you.” Spencer hummed, “Forgot how much I loved those clouds, mom. You helped me remember.”
Diana grinned, any remaining trace of grief wiped from her face, “I did, huh?” Well, maybe I can come back tomorrow, and we can watch clouds together,” she offered.
“Am I still dreaming?” He asked rhetorically.
“Sweetie,” she cupped his cheek with a maternal gentleness, “You are very much alive.”
Once Diana was on her way back to Brookfield and Penelope – still not providing you with any details – left to go check in with the team, you rested your head on the armrest of his hospital bed, maintaining a watchful eye on him. “I love you,” you whispered to him after Dr. K left for the night.
He hummed, tired eyes looking back at you, “You’ve said that three times in the last ten minutes.”
“And?” You inquired, furrowing your brows.
The corner of his mouth quirked up, “And I love you too.”
You smiled at him, “Thank you for having a traumatic brain injury so I could delay my stepmother’s visit.”
At that, he fully grinned up at you, “It was all part of my plan.”
A thousand words rested on the tip of your tongue, asking him how he was feeling and about healthcare directives and how he chose his favorite cloud, but everything felt so important and so inconsequential at the same time.
“You should go home,” he spoke before you had the chance to, “Get some good rest, sleep in a real bed.”
You shook your head succinctly, “I’m gonna stay here.”
He raised his eyebrows, “The nurses will keep coming in all night and wake you up,” he insisted, knowing well enough that the hospital chairs did not make for a good night’s rest.
“Then it’s a good thing I don’t have anywhere to be but here tomorrow,” you told him, thumbing the fabric of his hospital blanket as you insisted on staying.
Spencer shifted slightly on the bed, trying to get a better look at you, “You need to take care of yourself.”
His concern comforted you, but you still shook your head, “If I don’t stay here next to you, I’ll drive myself crazy. This is the best place for me.” You picked your head up, reaching out to cup his cheek and smiling to yourself when he leaned into your touch. “What’re you thinking about?”
His head lolled lazily on the pillows, brown eyes – with gold on the inside – studying your features like he was trying to make sense of something in his muddled brain, “I had a weird dream.”
Most of the time, Spencer didn’t give credit to dream analysis, so when he had dreams that he deemed inexplicable, he’d make his head spin trying to find a logical reason. “Maybe it’s a side effect of the seizure medication they put you on,” you proposed, skimming the apple of his cheek with the pad of your thumb.
Spencer didn’t look convinced, “I saw people while I was unconscious.” His attempt at explaining gave you more insight on what he was struggling with, he had a complicated relationship with the concept of the afterlife.
“Oh, yeah?” You asked softly, hoping the two of you could talk it out.
He nodded almost indeterminably, “Strauss, Foyet, Gideon,” he elaborated, opening his mouth to add another name, but he faltered when the time came.
“Your brain was looking for manifestations of guilt,” you analyzed, each of those deaths had affected him in one way or another. “Using your past traumas against you,” you continued.
He still seemed unsure, “I’m not sure that’s all of it, some of it, sure, but…”
Your chest ached at the confusion in his gaze, “Was there someone else you saw?”
He sighed, leaning his head back against the pillows and looking at the dimmed fluorescent lights of the hospital room, “A little kid. A girl,” he told you, closing his eyes as if he was trying to recall the child from his dream.
“Well,” you considered it, “If your brain was using the other three as a manifestation of guilt, maybe the little girl is a manifestation of hope. The part of your subconscious telling you to stay formed her to represent the people you can still help.”
Spencer frowned deeply, looking at you again, “I guess I assumed there was a deeper meaning to it.”
You raised your eyebrows, “What else do you think it could be?”
“I thought…” he faltered, “I’m not sure.”
“Are you alright?” Spencer asked you, already starting to walk through Dave’s house to where everyone was gathering on the patio.
You stood in the foyer, pressing your lips together as you shifted the strap of your purse over your shoulder before finally hanging it up. Looking up at Spencer, you dropped your arms to your sides, “What?”
His eyebrows furrowed in concern, “I asked if you were alright. Are you?”
Your eyes widened, “Oh, oh yeah. It’s just weird, you know? Pen leaving,” the half-truth slipped easily from your lips.
“It feels like everyone’s changing except for us,” he said, returning to you in the foyer so that the two of you could walk outside together.
“Ha,” you said humorlessly, “Right.” Penelope was leaving, having decided that Silicon Valley was too far for her, but landing a job with a nonprofit in D.C. and leaving the BAU behind. Emily was house hunting in Denver, not for a permanent move, but for something for her to share with Andrew.
You and Spencer were staying with the BAU, he wanted to split time between consulting and teaching, similar to what he had done during his sabbaticals. “Well,” he ceded, “We’re not changing much.”
The two of you emerged onto the patio hand-in-hand, being on the receiving end of welcoming smiles that had an air of relief. Everyone was still in that phase of remembering how grateful they were to have him around every time they saw him. “How ya feeling, kid?” Rossi asked, standing around the table with Krystall.
Spencer set his hand on the small of your back before responding, “Feeling great, and I’m starting back next week. Can’t let the team be down two members,” he mused, looking down at you reassuringly.
Next to you, Tara scoffed, “Oh, come on, teaching and consulting? You’re making me look bad.”
“Just doing what I love,” Spencer replied candidly.
Luke raised his champagne, “Hey, I will drink to that,”
You prepared yourself to turn down a drink, thinking up an excuse until Penelope stepped out onto the patio, “Uh, you’re not supposed to start the festivities until the belle of the ball has arrived,” she jokingly protested, giving everyone a little twirl in a very Garcia-fashion.
Leaning into Spencer slightly, the two of you watched as Luke put his hands up in defense, “Don’t worry, okay? ‘Cause this is gonna be the first of many.”
“Penelope!” Kristy called out from across the table, “Congratulations! Here I thought we were coming to celebrate Dave’s retirement, but Matt said it’s your farewell party. And you had like a hundred offers,” she said, beaming from across the table.
Garcia waved her hand in faux humility, “Oh, that’s only if you round up, but yes,” she said excitedly. “Anyway, it’s a nonprofit, it’s close to here, and the dress code is all FBI conservative like I’ve been having to do,” she said, ignoring the doubtful looks that were shared around the table.
“I’m still in denial that you’re leaving,” JJ told her mournfully, a slight frown on her face.
Matt shook his head, “It won’t be the same without you.”
“Better not be,” Penelope scolded, her tone suggesting that she found the idea ridiculous.
Emily leaned over the table to clarify for Kristy, “Dave decided he wasn’t going to retire. He didn’t want the team to go through too much of a transition all at once.”
“That’s ‘cause Dave’s never gonna actually do it,” Krystall interjected, saying what many members of the BAU had also thought.
“Hey,” Rossi protested in mock offense, “Look, being with you all, doing what few others can, that’s where I belong.” He turned to Garcia, “But this night is not about me. To our beloved Penelope – a salut.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Luke and Penelope wander off to the patio, the two of them seeking out water. You made a mental note to ask her what it was about just as Spencer approached you, “Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?”
You waved off his concern, making your way over to the house, hoping there were hors d’oeuvres remaining in the kitchen. “I’m fine, this is Pen’s night,” you explained to Spencer as he followed you.
“Right, that’s reassuring,” he responded sardonically, trailing close behind you through the kitchen.
Turning back to him, you pleaded, “Can you let this go? Just for now.”
Spencer frowned, “I thought we were working on our communication.”
Silently, you cursed him for bringing up your therapist’s – who was likely going to have a field day when she found out – tactics. “Spence,” you complained, hating how your voice sounded like a whine.
“Y/N,” he answered in kind.
Groaning, you looked around the kitchen before dragging Spencer into the pantry by his shirt. You flipped the light on and looked up at him, “I had my yearly physical this morning.”
He knew this, in order to remain eligible to stay in the field, everyone needed to have a yearly physical performed by an FBI physician. The concern on his face deepened, “I- Are you okay?”
“I’m pregnant,” you breathed, the words that had been balancing on your tongue for the better of the day. You wished you had been able to give him a better announcement. A card or a onesie, anything would have been better than turning Rossi’s pantry into a confessional.
Instantly, you saw the gears turning in his head as he tried to do the math, “That would mean…” he started, eyes widening as he came to different conclusions.
You nodded, “I’ve been pregnant. They couldn’t give an accurate estimate based on just the blood test and I’ve been trying to figure it out, but-“
“Eight weeks,” Spencer answered, the concern refusing to waver as he studied your appearance.
He was looking for signs and trying to remember symptoms, and you didn’t blame him. You had always assumed you’d have some idea, but you were so shocked that the FBI physician had insisted that you lay down before driving home.
The same surprise was pasted across Spencer’s face now, his hands tentatively placed on either side of your waist, thumbs hovering over your abdomen, “You were pregnant when the house blew up in Reno.” His voice solemn as he held back any excitement, “Did the doctor… is everything alright?”
“He said if anything had happened as a result of the blast, we’d know by now,” you offered some reassurance, having shared the same worry when you found out that morning. You wanted him to be happy, because once Spencer was happy about this, you could be happy.
Spencer shifted his weight, “But you made an appointment with an obstetrician, right?”
Slouching slightly, you looked up at him, “First thing Monday morning. Spencer-“
“If I had known, I never would’ve let you go to Nevada,” he interrupted, instantly protective.
“Spencer,” you startled him, “Are you happy?”
He paused and your chest ached more and more with every moment he remained silent, “Did you think that I wouldn’t be?”
You released a small sigh of relief, smiling at him sheepishly, “It’s just… it’s a surprise,” you offered quietly. “Is it awful timing?”
“No,” he insisted, pulling you in by the waist and wrapping his arms around you. He leaned his head down, tucking his face into the crook of your neck, “It’s perfect,” he reassured you. “I love you,” he whispered, voice muffled as he held you tightly – held you together.
The two of you remained that way until a knock at the door came, “Hey, uh,” Luke’s voice rang out from the other side of the door, “If you guys are doing freaky shit in Rossi’s pantry he’s gonna be pissed.”
Standing up straight, you clasped your hand over your mouth in an attempt to cover up your laugh. Spencer looked equally as amused, dropping a kiss to your lips before reaching behind you to open the door, revealing Luke and his impish grin.
He threw his hands up in the air, looking at the both of you as he walked backward out the door, “I was sent in to get you. Rumor has it they’re about to play the belle of the ball’s favorite song.”
You and Spencer shared a knowing look, “Heroes,” the both of you said in unison.
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#spencer reid#spencer reid x you#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid hurt/comfort#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds hurt/comfort#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal minds angst#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#jennifer jareau#jareau!reader#written by margot#ffofa
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bad boys do it better
rated: teen | @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: modern au tags: dating apps, innuendo, bad flirting read on ao3
✿
Eddie finally opens Tinder after downloading it in a fit of desperation.
He's tried everything but these stupid apps—bars and clubs and pottery classes and rock climbing—trying to find someone he can connect with.
But he's mostly found guys that string him along with whispered sweet nothings and half-promises they don't intend to follow through on.
So he makes his profile and then promptly fumbles and drops his phone because— no fucking way.
There's no way this is real life.
There's no fucking way the first guy to pop up is Steve fucking Harrington, his unfortunate and longest lasting crush in high school.
He picks up his phone and sees Steve's face staring back at him, unassuming, a bright, cheery smile on his face.
Steve, 28 2 miles away "Hope you like bad boys because I have it on dvd and vhs" Interests: baseball, basketball, live music, movies
He taps to get to the next photo and lets out a shaky breath—the shorts of what can only be his Halloween costume are so short, exposing hairy thighs that Eddie wants to sink his teeth into.
The next photo is a snapchat picture of him grinning wide, cradling what might be the world's ugliest dog, the text across the screen reading my nephew is so handsome 🤩🤩🤩.
The last is an obligatory shirtless mirror pic, not showing off washboard abs, but the soft, toned skin of his stomach.
He closes the app, sets his phone down, and breathes through his nose.
This can't be real, right? In what world would Steve be the first person in a sea of profiles in San Francisco of all places?
Eddie expected him to chase after Nancy Wheeler when she went to Boston, but he didn't stick around long enough in Hawkins to find out if they ever rekindled their will-they-won't-they relationship.
Maybe he's just visiting. Maybe he found his match and just forgot to delete Tinder. Because there's just no way Eddie has this kind of luck.
He opens up Instagram and searches for Steve and finds him right away because they're probably still Facebook friends.
He scrolls through his profile and deflates a little, because all of the pictures on Tinder are from his Instagram. Which means it's probably much more likely that someone is catfishing using Steve's pictures.
Because the Steve from high school wasn't into men. And he's hot enough for someone to use his pictures to scam people or whatever.
He opens up Tinder again and his thumb is swiping right before he thinks about what he's doing.
It's a match!
Okay, now he knows it's a catfish. Or maybe it's a bot.
There's no world in which Steve Harrington would swipe right on him in the twenty minutes it's been since he created his account.
He types a message to "Steve" saying so are you a bot or just a catfish?
He doesn't get a response right away, so he clicks out of the messages, looking at profiles of what are hopefully actual people he can connect with.
His phone buzzes when the message from Steve comes in.
Hi3 Eddiems, cl!ck th3 linkin my proffile to . achat I am waitin9
He rolls his eyes and goes back to perusing profiles. It's not like he thought it was really Ste-
His phone pings with another message and he clicks back into the chat immediately.
That was a joke. There's not even a link in my profile
Eddie's heart beats a little faster, his fingers typing out a response.
So a catfish then?
Why do you think I'm a catfish?????
Because I know the guy in those pictures and there's no way hes into men. That guy was a jock extraordinaire in high school and very straight
You're awfully judgey for someone who was so anti-conformity in high school. Whos to say I haven't changed?
Or like, learned new things about myself?
Eddie's breath stutters in his throat.
Also you didn't really know me since we never talked.
Okay, I mean. It's pretty easy to guess that I was counterculture in high school by looking at me. So I'm still on the fence about the catfish thing
How about we meet up then? So you can see me in all my nearing-30 glory
And watch bad boys on dvd and vhs with you?
Dude, I am not inviting you to my house on the first date
That's a third date kind of thing
Oh yeah? Is it a back-to-back feature? We start with the vhs then move to dvd?
He can't believe he's entertaining this. A catfish wouldn't offer to meet up unless they thought Eddie wouldn't call their bluff. He kind of wants to see where this is going.
No see, we start with the dvd playing in the living room and then when we inevitably start being bad boys🥵 in the middle of the movie, we can pick it back up on vhs in my room later
To be clear, we stop the movie, right? I'm not sure bad boys has a soundtrack meant for the kind of activities we'd be doing
Oh for sure. I'd even put on my "let's get it on" playlist. As a treat.
Eddie can't help but grin. Even if this guy is a catfish, this is maybe the most fun he's had talking to someone in a long time.
Are you serious about meeting up?
Uh yeah, I can't have you thinking I'm a catfish forever
What's your favorite brewery?
Cellarmaker
Wanna do tomorrow afternoon at like 2 when it's not busy?
That sounds perfect
He isn't sure if it's really Steve or if he's going to be met with someone else or stood up, but at least he'll get to drown his sorrows if it doesn't work out.
Well—he's unsure until he gets the 'stharrington started following you' notification on Instagram a few minutes later.
He screams into his pillow so loud his neighbor thumps on the wall.
#steddie#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie drabble#steddie ficlet#steddieholidaydrabbles#st ficlet#janai.doc
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eren and his mystery cheerleader gf! ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
syp: no one believed eren had such a pretty gf…until now
trin speaks!: be mindful i might have errors. it’s normal.
“so where’s your so-called "girlfriend" at? or did you make this one up too like the last time-”
“oh fuck off, connie, that was one time, and i was 12!” the rest of his friends surrounding him laughed at his embarrassment, (apparently he was the only one without a girlfriend so he made up having one…like i’m talking fake messages and everything.) currently, they were at a rival school’s basketball game since you didn’t go to their school and of course eren decided to come and support you…but his friends armin, connie, and onyankopon tagged along with him, wanting to see who his “special lady” was. “so is the game gonna start or…?” “uh, i think? it just turned 6-” armin was cut off with a set of claps and loud stomps from the side of the bleachers, cheerleaders could be heard shouting a set of words while the boys ran out through the middle of them. parents, children and other spectators could be heard yelling in excitement for the intense game that was yet to happen.
eren looked around to spot you, finding you sitting on the bottom bleacher scrolling on your phone, and the boys traced his eyesight, “bro no way you date that girl sitting on the bottome row?” “huh?” connie pointed at you, “her? she’s toooo fine to be dating you-” “hey?! what’s wrong with me?” “-she should be dating me!” everyone around him rolled their eyes, “if anything she should date me, black love is the best love-” “right, but she’s entitled to date anyone she dates, besides we don’t know her,” armin was received with blank stares from all three of em while ignoring eren’s mumbling claims of, “i’m the one dating her,” soon or later it was halftime, which was a break time for everyone.
the dance team began to perform and all the cheerleaders went their separate ways. connie and armin went to concessions and onyankopon was talking with a girl he’d just met, so eren searched and searched for you, until he felt a pair of cold, soft hands hindering his vision. “guess whooo~”
“my beautiful baby i’d hope?” you kept his eyes covered as you moved infront of him, then removed them happily, “well you hoped right! hi eren!” you hugged him and sat next to him, leaning into his arms, “oh wait- you see our new uniforms?” “yes, its looks amazing- they added glitter to the school letters?” your curls shooks as you rapidly nodded, “yes! and the other sports coaches complained about it, wanting the letters to be unisex but i mean, glitter is glitter, and THEN the coaches made us run 5 laps before the game because someone left their bow at home, and now…” he turned towards you so he could listen to you better, and once the buzzer went off, you had to bid your goodbye, “you taking me home?” “you think you could ride home with sasha - i have the guys and i don’t wanna make it too crowded, i’ll get you once you get home?” your slight frown turned upside down and you noddied happily, “okay! see ya!” you waved enthusiastically and he waved back, sighing in content. “who’re you waving at?”
“my girlfriend?” they all stared at eren for like 5 seconds, then bursted out laughing at him, “oh man eren, you are too funny!”
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
after dropping his friends off, eren sat outside your home, waiting for your arrival and decided to do something that’ll hopefully get into his friends head that he’s actually dating someone. he smirked at his phone, editing up his caption and nearly jumped hearing his car door open, seeing you in his hoodie and some cute grey shorts, “hey baby,” you kissed his cheek and saw his phone, “uhh why are you…?”
“you’ll see.”
#eren x reader#eren x black fem!reader#eren jaeger x reader#aot x black reader#attack on titan#aot x y/n#eren yeager#aot fanfiction#eren aot#fluff#eren x black reader#eren yaeger x reader#eren headcanons#eren snk#aot x black y/n#aot x reader#smut
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omg a part 2????
i loved it so much!!!
Ahh I'm so glad you liked it!!! It's my first Jason x reader fic :) Here's a part 2!
Pros and Cons of Midnight Snacks (Part 2)
Pairing: Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Civilian!Reader
Summary: Now it’s time for a meet-ugly-ish with some dude named Jason. Also, you see the Red Hood again.
Word count: 6.3k (holy shit)
You’re not crazy, right? It’s weird that the library is completely empty because it closes in two hours and the weather is actually nice outside for once, and some random dude wanders in and sets up two seats down from you. He’s not even here to study; he pulled out a sci-fi novel as soon as he sat down.
Who comes to a GCU campus library to read recreationally? The seats are uncomfortable and plastic. And the sun is shining. Everyone else is outside soaking up the Vitamin D.
Honestly, you’re mostly surprised the chair he’s on didn’t snap as soon as he sat. The dude is huge. Football player huge. Shouldn’t he be at practice, instead of forcing the chair to make the most irritating squeaking noises known to man every time he moves an inch?
You grit your teeth and put on your headphones, but you can still hear the poor chair’s dying lamentations, so you turn on an instrumental playlist that hopefully won’t distract you too much from studying.
You let yourself stew over the annoyance until your stomach growls so loud you hear it over the soft music. He has the good grace not to look at you, but you definitely see him pause.
Okay, you’ll call it even. This is what you get for running to the library right after six hours of classes. You need to cement the knowledge in your mind while it’s still fresh, and if that means you have to forego lunch…
He’s still there two hours later when the closing time alarm goes off. It’s a shrill old-school bell, the kind no one can ignore, and he jumps like he’s never heard it in his life. The poor chair finally gives up. He tumbles to the ground.
You look over in case he needs any help, but he’s scrambling for the book, face bright red.
If he is a football player, you wouldn’t be surprised that he’s never heard the bell before. That sort rarely stays this late at the library—if they enter at all.
He rushes out. You pack up a little more methodically. All that’s left for you to look forward to tonight is trying to study in your apartment, but you never have much luck.
He’s outside the library on his phone when you walk out. Maybe waiting for a ride? You’re a little on edge from the events of two days ago, so you watch him out of the corner of your eye as you walk away.
Thankfully, he doesn’t follow you.
At least the library closes earlier on Wednesdays, 6 pm instead of 9:30. You don’t know why. It’s still a weekday. But it forces you out while the sun’s still shining, which is probably a good thing.
Within two minutes of the twenty-minute walk home, your hip hurts. By the ten-minute mark, you’re trying not to limp.
Despite your better judgment, you keep your gaze turned to the rooftops, even though you know the vigilantes are nocturnal. It’s stupid to want to see a flash of red helmet, anyway. The Red Hood probably saves hundreds of people every week; there’s no way he would remember you.
Of course, when you finally get back, there are the stairs to contend with.
Your cat, that ungrateful little beast, beeps at you furiously for being gone so long. Never mind that your roommate works nights, so at most the cat’s been alone for an hour. He makes a break for the hallway, and you box the doorway with your legs and slam the door closed against your hip as you slip through.
Your injury explodes with pain, but at least the cat doesn’t get out. Ungrateful little beast. As if he isn’t fed and loved enough.
You finish slipping through the doorway and just stand for a moment listening to the blood rushing through your ears. Damn, but that hurt.
In the bathroom mirror, you hike up the hem of your shirt and check the state of your injury.
All in all, it could have been much worse. The bullet scooped out a fair chunk of skin, but it was just a surface wound. There’s no fresh blood on the gauze, and when you change the wrappings, the skin is pink and raw but starting to scab. It scooped out a chunk and left a trail of bruising, but you got off fairly lightly, all things considered.
The GCPD released the robber’s mugshot yesterday morning. In the picture, the man’s eyes were so swollen from your pepper spray he could hardly open them.
You preferred the bullet, honestly.
You try in vain to study a bit more, but even after you take more painkillers, you’re not in the mood. You feed your cat, then curl up on the couch to watch a couple episodes of the show you’re currently in the middle of.
That was the first time you see the huge guy, but it’s certainly not the last.
You wouldn’t notice him so much if he wasn’t the size of a damn refrigerator. He’s gotta be a linebacker for the Knights, but he’s not on their roster. You looked it up after the third time he wandered into the library just a couple minutes after you. It’s probably not updated yet, but you see him so often, you’d like to know his name.
Also, he’d bleached a patch of hair right at the front of his head—was that a trend now, or something?—so it wasn’t hard to spot him.
On Saturday, your feelings shift from mild annoyance and curiosity to a sinking sort of dread when you notice him at the coffeeshop you always visit on the weekends. The employees know you by name and use it to call out your order, so now he knows it, as long as he’s paying attention.
You think he might be.
You don’t want to be that person. Not everything in the world revolves around you, obviously. But you might still be shaken from what happened on Monday, because the thought wiggles in the back of your brain: what if you have a stalker?
You try to tell yourself that it’s just paranoia. GCU isn’t that big a campus, after all, and there are only so many places in the city that are: A. close to campus, B. reasonably priced, and C. comfortable to work in. You’ve run into classmates here before, and you don’t have a monopoly on the library or this coffeeshop. Just because he shows up at the same time you do doesn’t necessarily mean anything. He might be establishing a schedule that just so happens to line up with yours.
But, you have to admit, it is easier for stalkers to stalk people when they know their regular schedule.
You keep a watchful eye out and are pretty good about keeping off the streets after dark, but a week and a half later finds you stranded an hour’s walk from your apartment. The buses worked for two days, then shut down again, and you foolishly believed that following the detour that said would get you home would actually get you home. You don’t want to call an Uber because traffic would make the ride longer than the walk and bankrupt you in the process. Same reason you can’t call anyone to pick you up unless you waited the two hours until rush hour dies down.
Walking is, unfortunately, the best option.
So you clutch your trusty pepper spray and prepare yourself for a long night of looking over your shoulder and ignoring the pain in your side. The wound has mostly closed, although the bruising has gotten worse.
Three minutes later, you hear the roar of a motorcycle followed by angry car honks. You barely pay it any mind until the motorcycle pulls up next to you and doesn't pass.
You keep walking, avoiding eye contact. Maybe ignoring them will dissuade the rider from catcalling you.
It doesn't work. "Hey," the rider says, and it's only because the voice is mechanically distorted, recognizable only because of how many videos of him that you won't admit to looking up the last week, that you look at him. "What are you doing?" asks the Red Hood.
"What are you doing?" you counter. He's blocking the flow of traffic talking to you.
The Red Hood looks over his shoulder, flips off the person honking behind him, and steers his motorcycle onto the sidewalk. He drives fast, and you flinch in case he tries to run you over, but he screeches to a halt at the last second.
"Haven't seen you in a couple of weeks," he says casually, like you two meet up often.
"I've been staying out of trouble," you say.
"Not tonight?"
"No. That wasn't my fault, though. I took the Southwest bus because it was supposed to connect with the L line, but all the signs they posted were a lie, apparently, because—" You cut yourself off. "Never mind, I'm sure you don't care. Point is, I'm walking home. It's not too far."
"It's about an hour," he points out. "How's your bullet wound? Will it object to that walk?"
"I'll be fine."
He pats the back of his motorcycle seat. "Hop on. I'll drive you."
You take a couple hasty steps back. It may not be a white van, but you know better than to follow candy into someone's vehicle. "Oh, no, thanks. Traffic's pretty bad right now."
You get the sense he's smiling when he says, "I bet I can get you back faster than walking." If only he wasn't wearing the stupid shiny helmet, you would be able to read his expressions better.
"Really, I'm okay. I'm sure you have better things to do than drive me home."
"Helping people is literally my job," is his response. "I have to make sure you get home safely. So either you get on the back of my bike, or I follow you the whole walk back to your apartment."
You know a losing battle when you see it. As a general rule of thumb, it's usually smart not to argue with the dude carrying at least two guns. "Don't kidnap me," you order before slinging your leg over the seat.
He chuckles. It's the first time you've ever heard him laugh, and it makes him sound so much younger. "You can't ride like that."
"Like what?"
He cranes his neck to look back at you. There's at least six inches between both your bodies. You clutch the sides of the seat with both your hands, hoping he doesn't take off with such a lurch that you topple off the back. "I drive fast. You'll have to hold on."
"I am holding on."
"To me."
You've only met the man twice. You're pretty sure clinging to someone's back is at least a third-meeting type of touch, but he reaches back. The Red Hood snakes a hand nearly twice the size of yours into the crook of your knee, then yanks you to him. You shoot forward with a strangled yelp and catch yourself on his back.
You've never before understood the phrase 'wall of muscle,' but you get it now.
He is huge. And strong. You gingerly put your hands on his shoulders. That's not an inappropriate touch, you think.
He has to live at the gym, right?
"You're still not holding on," he chides. "I don't have a helmet for you, so you really shouldn't fall off."
You swallow and move your hands, but he's too thick for you to link your hands around his front. So you fist both of them into his jacket. It presses your bodies tight against each other from shoulder to thighs. Through the layers his body radiates heat, but you shiver.
"Going," is all the warning you get.
Then you're gone; the bike shudders beneath you, then takes off like a jet.
You can't catch your breath. This must be what riding a dragon feels like, is your first nonsensical thought, a side effect of your roommate's obsession with Game of Thrones.
The bike roars beneath you, but you can hardly hear it over the rush of wind and the pound of blood in your ears. You can't see much with the wind drying out your eyes, so you press your head against the Red Hood's back and squint to one side. Cars and street lamps blur together into a stream of mismatched lights and colors.
The Red Hood drives fast. He weaves between lanes, runs through red lights, cuts onto the sidewalk. A couple bikers shake their fists at him when he passes them in the bike lane. A lot of cars honk at the two of you.
Judging by the way his shoulders shake with laughter, he likes pissing them off. You have to admit, the feeling is a little intoxicating.
You can't hear the sound, but your front is plastered to his back. Even with the layers of his suit and leather jacket, you can feel the vibrations of sound deep within his chest. He has a fairly deep voice, after all, unless the helmet changes that.
No less than ten minutes later, he parks abruptly. You lift your head, blinking moisture back into your eyes, and stare dumbly at your apartment building.
He'd actually brought you back.
Maybe he really was reformed.
You stumble off the bike onto unsteady legs. The Red Hood kicks his stand into place and rests against the bike, leaning with elbows on his handlebars. Like he expects a Midwest goodbye. And you find yourself dawdling.
Maybe you want one, too.
"Thanks for the ride," you finally say awkwardly.
"Anytime," he says, and you laugh, thinking it's a joke, but he doesn't. After a brief awkward pause, the Red Hood tries, "So how have you been?" as if you're old pals meeting up for brunch, and the question is so ridiculous coming from a sort-of-reformed crime lord slash serial killer that you respond without thinking.
"Pretty good, except I think I may have a stalker."
His helmet doesn't do a great job translating whatever sound he makes in response to that. It comes out as a crackle. "What?"
"I've noticed this dude recently showing up wherever I go," you say. "But I think it's just a coincidence. Sorry. That was a bad joke." It wasn't, but you don't want to accuse someone without proof of stalking you. If he's not, you'll seem self-obsessed. If he is, then he knows that you know, and it's not like the GCPD will do anything. One of your friends from your hometown had a stalker for literal years, and the police never did anything, even after he sent her death threats. They said there wasn't enough proof to make an arrest then, so someone showing up at the same places you are definitely isn't enough proof now.
The Red Hood tilts his head. "Does he make you uncomfortable?"
"You don't need to beat him up or anything on my behalf," you say. "I mean, you've seen me with a bottle of pepper spray. I'm pretty sure I can handle myself."
"I know you can," he says. You can hear the smile in his voice, like he finds something about the situation funny. "And I'm pretty sure that you know that I'm going to check this out anyway."
"No," you say, surprising yourself with your firmness. You can't rely on vigilantes to solve all your problems for you. "Seriously, it's okay. Thanks for the ride. Maybe I'll see you around."
"I'm counting on it," he calls as you walk away.
And he's right. Two days later finds you at the gas station at ten-thirty at night. You don't want to see him, per se. You're definitely not looking over your shoulder at the slightest sound. You definitely didn't check the parking lot for a notorious red motorcycle on your way in, and you certainly aren't taking peeks out the window every time headlights pass by on the street.
You're just... curious.
Maybe.
But you have absolutely no warning, not even a suspicion that someone is behind you, when you reach for a box of Cheez-Its. Someone else's hand gets there first and you nearly jump out of your socks.
"Hey," the Red Hood wheezes. He's clutching his side like he has a cramp. "Question: if I buy these for you, will you patch me up?"
"What?"
"I may have been cut," he admits. Judging by the angle of his hunch, it's a little more serious than just a 'cut'. "So: do we have a deal?"
The thought occurs to you, as you help him up five flights of stairs to your apartment, that you're escorting a strange man into your place of residence. You haven't even given your roommate a heads-up, though you're pretty sure tomorrow's his night off.
Sure enough, the only person there to greet you when you walk in is your cat. As per usual, he tries to escape. The Red Hood gently but firmly ushers him inside with his foot with such ease he must have one of his own. "It's cute," he says, still clutching his side.
"Thanks," you say. "He always tries to get out, but if he actually escapes then he just freezes in the hallway until I bring him back inside." Then you realize that you're discussing your cat, of all things, with the Red Hood. You clear your throat and say, "Let me take a look at you."
The crime lord and cat trail after you into the bathroom. It gets a little cramped because the Red Hood's about as small as a fridge is small, but you two figure out a passable system: he's too tall, even while sitting down, and you don't want to bend in half while you stitch him. So you sit on the toilet, he stands in front of you, and your cat jumps on top of his leather jacket on the counter to observe and judge. Luckily, the suture kit is still in the bathroom from when you thought you would have to stitch yourself up, so it's not long before you're instructing him to lift up the hem of his shirt so you can see the damage.
You hiss between your teeth at the sight. Someone grazed his side with a knife, by the looks of it, but the wound is deep. It might go all the way to his subcutaneous tissue.
After you clean it off, you're sure that it does. "You call this a cut?"
"I've had worse," he says gruffly.
"And you're still alive?" You squint at him.
He huffs like that's funny.
"They basically cut you in two! I don't know if I can fix this. I've never stitched someone up before!"
"What do you mean?" He tilts his head. "You stitched yourself up, remember? You told me you would."
Shit. Of all the ways to stick your foot in your mouth—
"It wasn't that bad," you say weakly.
“It looked pretty bad.”
“It just looked bad because I was wearing a light colored shirt. Don’t worry; I’ve learned my lesson.”
The Red Hood scratches under your cat’s chin. “About wearing light colored clothing, or about getting shot?”
You’re trying to thread the suture needle, but the stupid thread won’t cooperate. “Hmm?”
“Which lesson did you learn?”
“The former, mostly. Believe it or not, ‘try not to get shot’ is something most people, including me, know intuitively.”
"Let me see."
"Yeah, right," you say, "my apartment's basically a strip club, isn't it? First your shirt's coming up, then mine. Absolutely—" You slap his hand away— "Not. I'm fine. Now hold still while I stab you."
The process goes by quickly. He stands like a statue the whole time, like he's used to the pain of getting stitches. Considering his profession, he probably is.
Actually, you can see a couple healed-over scars on his torso just from the small bit of skin he's revealed by pulling up his shirt. And, you're pretty sure, a perfectly defined six-pack, but that's none of your business.
"I don't have the fancy dissolving sutures, unfortunately," you say while you tie off the thread. "These should come out in about a week."
"Yeah, I know," he grunts, letting his shirt fall back down. And you're not disappointed. At all. "Same time next week, then?"
"What?"
"To get them out."
"Uh." Your brain stalls out. You'd been operating under the assumption that this was just another freak coincidental run-in.
Is it just you, or is the Red Hood looking to make a friend out of you? Or maybe just a free pseudo-surgeon?
"Sure," you say. It's not like you can stop him, really.
"Thanks," he says, stroking your cat one more time. Then he nudges the pest off his jacket and shrugs it on, even though there's not really a need for it. The weather's been pretty mild the last week.
You walk him out the door. He pauses in the hallway, turns, and says, "By the way, what's your name?"
You tilt your head and tell it to him.
"Nice to meet you," he says. Then he walks away.
You watch him walk down the hallway until your cat escapes, and then you have to chase him. You're pretty sure the Red Hood sees it, because low-pitched laughter hits your ears as you gather the little bastard up, but when you look, the vigilante's gone.
"God, I hope he's up to date on his tetanus shot."
You find yourself at the coffee shop the next morning, determined not to let a buff bookworm change your routine. You're the first customer, and they have your order ready by the time you finish setting up your stuff on a small table in the corner of the shop, far from where the line will build up when more people trickle in.
Like clockwork, the bookworm wanders in just a couple minutes after you do, orders two coffees, and settles down across the room with his front to you.
Every time you glance up, he's utterly focused on his book. He's probably not watching you. Right?
Fifteen minutes later, the coffees untouched, he stands up. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he picks one up, approaches the counter, and...
Walks right past it.
Walks in your direction.
You stare blatantly, and he holds your gaze with a set jaw and something a little challenging in his gaze.
He's walking to you.
The coffee cup slams on the table, splashing a little over the edge, and you jump to move your laptop away from the liquid.
"Shit, sorry," the bookworm says. He runs away.
You stare until you realize he's grabbing napkins and hurrying back. At least ten, even though the spill's pretty small, and he piles them all onto the table.
His face gets redder the longer you watch without saying anything.
Once he's absolutely sure your laptop is safe from the couple drops he spilled, he balls them all into one large fist and rushes out, "I'm sorry—I was supposed to meet my brother here, but he canceled, and your drink cup's empty, so I was just wondering if you wanted this one? It's a little warm, but..."
"But free is good," you say, deciding to put him out his misery. And he certainly looks miserable rambling in front of you. Like he's mortified for some reason. "Um, thanks. What..."
"Just an iced coffee. Probably watered down."
You take a sip, just to be polite. It is watered down, but he didn't add any milk to it, so that's probably a good thing. "Thanks..." You tilt the cup to look at the name written on the side. "Jason?"
"Yep." He nods. He's still standing in front of you, like he wants to be invited to sit, but you have a lot of work to do, and he's a complete stranger, and all his stuff is still on his table across the room.
Something clatters behind the counter. You both turn in time to see the two baristas duck out of sight, whispering furiously. Probably about the spectacle you two are making.
"You go to GCU's campus library a lot, right?" Jason asks suddenly.
"Yeah, I do. So do you." You don't phrase it like a question.
"Yeah," he says. "It's peaceful to read in there. Quieter than my apartment."
"Okay," you say slowly. You're really not interested in this conversation, but you don't want to be rude.
He must understand you, though, because he rubs the back of his head and steps backwards, mumbling something about getting back to his book.
Jason's brother never does end up meeting him. You tell yourself that's why you keep glancing at him. Once or twice, you two peek at each other at the same time, and you always look away first, face hot like he's caught you doing something wrong.
The next time you go to the library, it's packed. The weather has turned, so students have nothing better to do than prepare for their finals. You head to the quiet floor, slowly losing hope that you'll find a seat.
A head snaps up the moment you walk in, dark-haired with a striking streak of white at his forehead. Jason.
Something like relief passes over his face, and he waves you over.
"I saved your seat," he whispers, dragging his bag off of the chair.
"Thanks," you say, actually touched. "You didn't have to."
He shrugs. "You're my reading buddy."
The next day, he's sitting at the library's entrance when you walk in. Jason shakes his head. "All the seats were already taken when I got here."
"Ugh." Strictly speaking, you don't need to study tonight. You're pretty confident about the next test's material, and you're also pretty burnt out.
"We could check out the Student Center?" he suggests. As if it's a given that the two of you are going to spend the afternoon together. And, you realize, after two straight weeks of studying in his proximity, you don't mind the presumption. That's how you made your closest friend in undergrad, anyway.
In fact, you think you might want to get to know Jason. Maybe ask about his white streak; you've been growing more and more curious about it. And why he's about seven feet tall and two hundred fifty pounds of muscle but has a passion for romance novels.
"I don't think I've studied in there before."
"It's not too bad, but it's a little louder than the library."
So you two head to the Student Center, but he doesn't open his book, and you open your laptop but don't turn it on. He buys you coffee, though you insist that you can pay for it yourself, and a simple query into what book he's reading currently turns into a two-hour conversation.
Jason likes to read every genre, but he likes classics and romance best. He doesn't just have one brother, he has four, and a sister. He's not on the football team like you'd assumed; he just likes to work out. He's finishing up his sophomore year of undergrad studying English Lit—he sees how your smile freezes at those words, and you're asking how old he is, and he's laughing when he tells you he took a couple gap years. He's your age, actually, and that's relieving for reasons you can't quite put to words.
When you check your watch and curse at the time—it's almost time for your cat's dinner—he asks for your number, and you put it into his phone.
You feel good on your walk home. You haven't made a new friend since the first semester of vet school; the course load is too demanding for you to participate in any GCU clubs. Your roommate asks why you're smiling and you wave him off. Of course, your cat doesn't care that you're in a good mood. He only cares about getting fed.
You see Jason a couple more times over the week, and soon you're too embarrassed to admit that you thought he was stalking you. He's almost as bad a texter as you are, responding at such hours you're half-convinced he doesn't sleep, so you're less self-conscious about taking hours to respond.
You've just gotten around to answering his last text when something knocks against your window.
You drop the phone on your face.
The Red Hood is laughing at you when you open the window to let him in. You'd forgotten he was coming, but you don't say so. He tumbles in, moving a little stiffly, but a lot better than he'd been last week. Your cat, the little traitor, runs to greet him and rubs against his ankles, purring like an engine. The Red Hood bends to pet him. "Hey, kitty." The red helmet tips up and those unnerving white lenses fix on you. "Hey, doc. Here to get my stitches out."
"How have you been feeling?" you ask.
"Good," he says, almost defensively.
It makes you suspect that something is wrong, but when you all pile into the bathroom again like it's a clown car and he pulls up his shirt, the wound is healing nicely. No pink or heat that signals infection, no puffy skin. You remove the stitches quickly, and again he hesitates, like he wants to stay longer.
You find yourself thinking about Jason. You're pretty sure you wish he was here.
"Well, thanks."
"Anytime."
He pauses. "Really?"
You shrug. "I mean, not if you need a hospital. Then I'd expect you to head straight to a hospital. But stuff like this—no worse than this, ideally—I guess I can help you with."
"You're pretty cool for a vet," the Red Hood says. "The last one I visited kept freaking out on me for stealing codeine."
"Well, that's a restricted—wait, you were stealing codeine? What for?"
He shrugs.
"What were you using it for," you repeat sternly.
"Okay!" he says loudly. "Well, thanks for patching me up, doc. I'll see you later, yeah?"
"Wait," you call out uselessly, but he vaults out the window. You gasp and rush to the sill, but there's no Red Hood-shaped puddle on the ground. Instead, his rapidly shrinking form disappears in the distance, swinging between the buildings that make up the Gotham skyline.
You don't see the Red Hood for a while after that, but you hear whispers of him wearing a new costume. You get caught up with finals and Jason, who asks you out after the semester ends.
Your vehement 'yes' takes you by surprise. Him, too, judging by his wide eyes and wider smile. You wonder why he asked if he thought you would say no. You wonder why you didn't realize earlier how desperately you wanted him to.
Now that you're out of school, you pick up shifts at the vet clinic. By some unhappy circumstance, they can only schedule you for the evening shifts. Jason works nights, too, and you've never fully squirreled out where he works, but at least you can spend some days together.
It's when you're walking back from your first shift that you see the Red Hood again after almost three weeks of radio silence. He pulls up next to you on the motorcycle. It's so late that there's no one on the road, so he stays on the asphalt and idles along at your walking pace until you break and say, "Long time no see, Hood."
"Did you miss me?" he teases.
You stop walking, because.
Most of his costume changed. Because it's summer, and even the nights are hot and muggy, you assume.
The pants are the same. So are the boots. But his jacket is red and sleeveless and has a hood that goes down to his eyebrows, the armor beneath short-sleeved, which means most of his arms are bare.
And...
Your mouth is dry. You swallow.
You're pretty sure not even Batman is that ripped. He looks like he's chiseled out of marble.
The longer you're speechless, the more amused he gets. You don't know how you know that, but something about his posture seems smug.
"You're taking 'red hood' seriously now, are you?" is all you manage to say. Because what else are you supposed to comment on? His bare forearms? His veins are so beautifully pronounced, they would be a dream to take blood from, but you have a boyfriend of a whole one and a half weeks, and you may be many things, but you're not a cheater.
He laughs, then pulls his hood low when it slips back a bit. His voice is still modulated, although it's not through a red helmet anymore. This is more like a muzzle. You can't tell if the eye covering is part of it, or like the domino masks that Batman and Robin wear, but the lenses are red now instead of white.
He's really leaning into the theme.
"You want a ride?"
"We're two blocks from my apartment."
He shrugs. "I'm heading there anyway."
What the hell. You've already hopped on the back of his bike before. It's easier to do so the second time. You wrap your arms around his torso again, and when his arms settle over your own, they're warm with his body heat, but not hard, even though the muscles look sharp enough to cut glass. He's firm all over, but his skin is soft, apart from the raised, bumpy scars that seem to cover him from head-to-toe. It makes you worry about him, just a little.
He doesn't drive fast this time. He drives slow enough to hold a conversation and tosses over his shoulder, "So what's new with you?"
"Not much," you say into his ear. Is it just you, or does he shiver? "I finished another semester of vet school."
"Top grades, I'm sure. Did you get extra credit for patching me up?"
"I wish." No, your grades are good, but not exceptional. But exceptional is what got you into vet school. As long as you graduate with a DVM, even if you're the lowest in your class, you're a licensed doctor. There's some relief in that. "The dude I thought was stalking me asked me out, actually."
"Really?" he asks, interested and alert. "Was he really stalking you? Do you need me to scare him off for you?"
"No," you say, smiling at the thought of the Red Hood trying to scare off Jason. They're about the same build, now that you think about it, which you're sure the vigilante isn't used to. And Jason's never been anything but gentle and polite, but you saw an undercurrent of something strong, something like titanium, under that gentle spirit the one time he stood up for one of the baristas at the coffee shop that you first spoke to each other. He hadn't needed to do much apart from stand up and glare at the beleaguered corporate guy angry that there wasn't enough sugar in his coffee, and the dude shut up and scurried out as fast as he could.
It was probably the hottest thing you've ever seen him do, except for that one time you pushed your laptop a little too close to the edge of your desk while studying, it tipped over, and he caught it one-handed without looking up from his book. What can you say? Saving you a couple hundred dollars in getting that fixed was hot.
"It was a misunderstanding," you say. "We just ended up in the same places at the same times."
A gust of wind pushes back the Red Hood's hood, exposing a head of thick, dark hair, the same shade of black as Jason's. The motorcycle swerves in his haste to pull his hood back up, and when you reach your apartment and hop off the bike, he's pushing his hair back, back, beneath the hood.
What's the point of ditching the helmet if he's just going to be fussing with the hood all the time?
"What's new with you?" you ask, scuffing your toe against the sidewalk. Your shoes are falling apart; the sole is peeling away.
"Same old, same old," he says. His voice sounds rougher, but that might just be the new modulator.
"How's your side?"
"How's yours?" he counters. "You still haven't let me see it. I bet it scarred because you were too stubborn to take my advice and patch it up."
You will never admit that he's right. You challenge, "Let's compare scars, then," knowing full well his armor dips below his pants. It's a little silly to picture the Red Hood wearing an armored one-piece, but that's all you can imagine.
He clucks his tongue and shakes his head. It dislodges the hood. A patch of hair falls down to his forehead, and it's white.
But the back of his hair is black.
White and black—
Your stomach flips.
"I thought you had a boyfriend, honey. Why're you asking me to strip?"
So that's what all the teasing's been about. He hasn't been flirting—or he has, his own weird version of flirting, because he's a dumbass.
For a moment all you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears, then you flex your fingers to regain feeling in them. You roll your eyes and say, "I think we've established that my apartment is basically a strip club. Why don't you come up and show me, Jason?"
"Well, I'm flattered, but—what?" He splutters like he's choking on his own tongue. Serves him right. "I'm not—why do you think that—I mean, I could be anyone—"
Yeah, he can have his little crisis on the street. You tug on your own fringe, then swipe into the building.
You hear his muffled cursing as the door closes.
You look forward to him catching up.
(My requests are open, so let me know if you want me to write anything in particular! Also let me know if you want to be added to a taglist.)
Forever tag list:
@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight @andreasworlsboring101
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not a gamer * fem!driver
lando manages to convince her to start streaming on twitch with him, leading her to influence others to join her
pairings: max verstappen x fem!driver, lando norris x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver
warnings: butt load of stupidity
notes: initially, i was gonna write a fic solely about max because he was talking about fornite the other day... but i thought how funny would it be if it were to be with some of the guys so here i am
(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)
"hello, everyone," she smiles, reaching forward to adjust the camera as she squints her eyes. "is this a good angle? let me know if it's flattering, okay? i can't not look good on twitch."
lando has managed to convince her to join him for a stream on twitch, insisting that she should start an account as well. she initially refused, claiming that she's not that well-liked to start an account and have a loyal following. even adding on the fact that she's not even a good gamer to begin with.
but lando said that it doesn't matter, and proved her wrong by setting up a poll on his previous stream just to get her to make an account. which, the effort was very endearing.
"you always look good," she squints, turning away the right where her other monitor sits. she scrunches her nose and turns to the camera to stare into it. "logan, how did you even know i was streaming tonight?"
she rolls her eyes when his reply rolls in, claiming that he follows her twitter where she announced it. "it's time for you to go out and do something else besides stalking me, logan," she scoffs jokingly with the roll of her eyes.
"okay, so this is my first twitch stream!" she beams, sitting up straighter as she grabs her mouse. "i'm just waiting for lando to finish setting up, so i'm afraid you guys are stuck with me alone for a couple of minutes. let's get to know each other, i might be doing this pretty often this winter break just to have a bit of a hobby.
"i wanna know what you guys want to see from me."
a comment immediately rolls in.
user1: i wanna see you play fortnite with lando and max
she grins sheepishly, dropping her head. "guys, i'm not much of a gamer. never have been so this is actually my first time-ish touching games in a long while. my longest experience was playing roblox with my younger brother when we were younger."
user2: how about oscar or logan playing some games?
she presses her lips together, thinking of ways she could be able to convince her best friends to join her for some online games. when, neither of them has really dabbled much in the hobby. "i'm sure logan will be pretty keen to try, but i'm not so sure about oscar. i'll try to convince him, though he's back in australia for the majority of the break, unfortunately. the timezone difference is absolutely insane."
logansargeant: guys, ask her what her hobbies are
"logan, get off my chat!"
logansargeant: im gonna expose you on twitter for cyberbullying
logansargeant: #endcyberbullying2023
user3: #justice4logan
user4: #justice4logan
user5: u should talk about taylor swift
“oh, my god! i should!” she squeals. “we should host a listen party when she releases reputation! how good was the 1989 vault tracks?”
user6: omg ur so right
user7: iion slaps
user8: slut! is my favourite i think
“1989 had the best vault tracks,” she nods, lips pressed together. “my favourite is ‘now that we don’t talk’ because i like calling my mom.”
blythe.yln: where is lando!!!
“guys, i don’t know. he texted me 5 minutes ago saying he was setting up his pc,” she grins into the camera. “hopefully he’s here soon.”
dalton.yln: i miss oscar
oscahpastry: i miss u too
“you’ve got phones, yeah?” she grins, “use it instead of flooding my chat.”
user1: yeah guys, some of us are trying to get her attention
user9: u guys get that enough
user10: leave some for us pls
user11: yeah y so selfish
she scoffs. "right, guys? can you believe these people?"
the discord sound makes her jump, lando's voice filling up her headphones. "yo, i'm sorry! i was looking for my keyboard."
"where'd you find it, lando?"
"under the bed. apparently, that's where i kept it the last time i streamed," lando laughs. "okay, let's start off with a little horror game? it's called phasmophobia."
"a scary game?" she looks at the camera. "why would i willingly play that?"
"lando, i'm gonna kill you!" she screeches, eyes closing as the creepy sounds from the game boost in her headphones. she peeks through her eye, watching the two hands on her screen before the screen goes foggy.
lando's laughter replaces the eerie sounds of the game, making her roll her eyes. "i told you to hide and close the door!”
“i didn’t know where the stupid door even was!” she screams back, slamming the table. “lando, i don’t wanna play this game anymore!”
“but it’s so fun!”
“lando!”
logansargeant: that was funny
logansargeant: lemme join u some time
user11: omg
user11: half the grid’s gonna be on twitch?
“yeah, i’m so nice, right?” she jokes. “i’m letting them explore different career options. influencer era or something, i believe.”
oscahpastry: i only created an account to annoy her :/
seb.v5: same
user12: no shot thats actually sebastian vettel
maxverstappen1: so we are all just here waiting for an invite from these two???
logansargeant: theyre gatekeeping the stream from us :(
maxverstappen1: i wanna play fortnite
seb.v5: wait i know that game
maxverstappen1: let me join or i’ll report your account
“that’s not very nice, max,” she frowns. she looks away for a second. “lando, max says he’ll report my account if we don’t invite him to play fortnite.”
“oh, let him report you. just make another account, mate!” lando laughs. “ask him to join us phasmophobia! it’s so fun seeing you scream.”
she turns to the camera with a lopsided grin. “chat, tell lando you don’t wanna see me scream in phasmo anymore please. i’m sick of this game, i’ve got no idea what i’m doing, and i haven’t guessed the ghost correctly this entire time.”
logansargeant: keep playing phasmophobia u pussy
oscahpastry: yeah pussy
user5: its v entertaining icl
maxverstappen1: but phasmophobia costs money
“costs money?” she repeats, confusion on her face. “max? do you need financial aid?”
user10: isnt max a millionaire??????
user13: bro is complaining about a game that barely costs anything while getting paid millions a year 💀
oscahpastry: that’s wild ngl
maxverstappen1: wow i just got cyberbullied.
maxverstappen1: i’ll go get it now damn.
she sighs. “guess we’re continuing with this stupid game.”
“lando, where am i going?” max shouts, her character watching max’s go around in circles, flickering the flashlight on and off. “what am i even supposed to do?”
teaching one person how to play a complicated game like phasmophobia is easy. teaching two, however, is absolutely absurd. lando doesn’t know how much more of this he can take.
“lando, there’s something written in the book!” she cheers, crouching her character down. she leans into her monitor as she tries to make out what it says. “bitch, it says run!”
she quickly gets up and walks out. “don’t have to tell me twice.”
“run where?” max shouts, his character still running in circles. “(y/n), where are you? escort me out.”
“guys, just stay inside the house and help me out!” lando whines, his character flickering the flashlight at max’s. “turn around, max. i’m here with you.”
“i’m going to the van.”
“no, you’re not! come here and camp the ghost with us!”
“absolutely not! i’m so scared shitless!”
“we should’ve just played fortnite, you know.”
“guys, please! you just have to hold the equipment for me.”
“oh, my god! oh, my god! the front door is locked!” she screams. “the front door is locked!”
logansargeant: lol dsurv
oscahpastry: not so tough now (y/n)
user8: LMFAO THAT GHOST IS HUNTIN
user14: dude the chaos is insane
user15: i need her to stream everyday actually
user16: she’s gonna be an influencer i can feel it in my bones
user17: u guys should try valorant
oscahpastry: i’d join if they play valorant
user4: omg thats crazy
user18: i kinda want to see it
user19: max playing valorant? the rage that man would feel
“lando, i’m dead again!” she screeches, slamming her mouse down into her desk. “we should’ve just played fortnite.”
logansargeant: ur issues with the door are hilarious
user4: i’ll be thinking about your inability to hide in a room for days
oscahpastry: evidence that u wouldnt survive a horror movie at all
seb.v5: maybe you should stick to sitting there and looking pretty
user20: OMG SEB CALLED HER PRETTYYYYY
user21: are we all so shocked?
user22: yeah, he looks at that girl like she aligns the stars in the sky on a race weekend
user23: him during her podium celebration cured my depression (real)
logansargeant: girl why r u just stalking lando as a ghost
“lando,” she whispers. “i saw the ghost in the corner for the room.”
“what?” max asks, voice trembling slightly. “what corner?”
“that corner.”
“what corner?”
“there. i’m pointing at it.”
“i can’t see you, stupid. you’re dead.”
“then that’s too bad.”
“i figured what type of ghost it is!” lando cheers. “follow me, max. let’s get out of this stupid house and play your stupid fortnite or something.”
“oh, how lovely! i saw (y/n)’s chat… something about valorant,” max mutters, following lando through the dark house. “i’ve seen that on tiktok and it looks kinda- lando, why’d you close the door?”
“i told you i saw the ghost lurking more than usual,” she mutters.
“i don’t even know what that means!” max shouts.
“i didn’t close the door, mate!” lando laughs. “go and hide in a room, max!”
“where? i don’t know where to go!” max screams, frantically running around in hopes of finding solace somewhere.
her character follows behind the entity in the game, clearly running around to find max. “oh, she’s coming for you, max! she’s angry!”
“i don’t know where to go!” max screams, his character running by the entryway in confusion. “lando, where do i go?”
“max, she’s coming! go in the closet!”
“what closet? oh, okay! i see it!”
“close the door, max!”
“what door- oh! okay!”
“did he live?”
“i think so. the ghost is lurking outside max’s door,” she grins into the camera, watching the entity walk back and forth outside the room max is in.
“don’t come out yet.”
“not even a chance, mate.”
“okay, she’s gone,” she sighs. “i’m gonna log out and create an account on fortnite.”
“we’re not gonna play valorant?”
“okay, chat, we’re waiting for oscar to finish the tutorial,” she smiles. “we should be in our first game in a couple of minutes.”
user24: bro ur tutorial was horrendous
user25: i love watching people be bad at valorant
user26: shes so real for that though
user27: she’d play sage for sure
seb.v5: i can’t believe you got oscar to join you
user28: and logan 🤨
user17: outrageous that i’ve been begging the grid to join lando’s streams and here she comes casually getting them to play silly games
user3: real
user28: everyone say thank you (y/n)
blythe.yln: i can’t believe u didnt ask me to join u
blythe.yln: i’m the best at valorant
blythe.yln: i’m better than dalton
user29: YES BLYTHE SPEAK YOUR TRUTH
“so, what do i do again, dalton?” lando asks softly. “what’s the ‘e’ button do?”
“puts up a wall,” the younger kid says. “and then it heals you too, but damages other people. even your teammates.”
“who’s this eminem looking bro?” max asks, giggling slightly. “frank ocean, i saw on tiktok.”
user30: my roman empire is blythe being a pro valorant player but this is the first time her sister is trying the game
“well, i’m sorry for doing other things than playing valorant,” she jokes with a smile. “but, yes, guys! blythe plays valorant for a living which is exactly why we didn’t invite her to play.”
user31: blythe is a pro val player!!?!?!?
user31: since when??
blythe.yln: yeah guys follow my twitch, i’ll treat u better
“i’m going to ban you from my chat if you keep marketing, blythe,” she frowns, though a smile creeping up on her face. “where is dalton?”
blythe.yln: dalton is my valorant spawn… i taught him what he knows
user31: dalton to go pro in a couple years?
user32: omg that’s crazy
user1: the yln’s are gonna take over the valorant scene
user6: blythe getting a redbull gaming clutch would be to die for
“mate, dalton, what’s this girl in the yellow jacket do? she looks stylish,” oscar asks.
“she’s got a turret and grenades,” dalton answers simply.
“alright, how do i get her?”
“you gotta play the game.”
“oh, what? that’s so unfair.”
“yeah, i’m sure that sucks that you’ve got to play the game, oscar,” she says. “where is logan?”
“i’m sorry,” the sigh in logan’s sentence making her laugh. “i got stuck.”
“how?” oscar asks with a laugh. “they literally tell you what to do.”
“i couldn’t find the buttons they were asking me to press,” logan mumbles with a hint of disappointment.
“are you actually intellectually hindered, mate?” she cries with a laugh, covering her eyes. “do you not frequent a laptop?”
“not really, no.”
“it shows,” oscar adds on.
blythe.yln: he’s gonna be shit
user5: so real i can alr see it
user11: dude they’re gonna be screaming at each other soon
“let’s do a quick test game,” dalton mutters as logan’s in-game name pops up on the screen. “just a short game.”
“with real people?” lando asks in a small voice. “that can trash talk me?”
“just trash talk them back, mate,” max answers. “easy.”
“just find their ip address and hit them,” logan suggests. “that’s easier.”
“what?”
“don’t pretend like you wouldn’t do it too, (y/n)!” logan whines. “come on, let’s start!”
“how do i defuse the spike?” max screams, looking at the ground as he runs around. “where even is it?”
“your left,” dalton says. “keep walking.”
blythe is now sat next to her older sister, leg propped up in her seat as she watches the screen.
“okay, okay, go to the right and look right here,” blythe mutters, pointing at the screen. “and then aim right here,” she adjusts her sister’s mouse, “when you see somebody, shoot.”
“that’s not fair. (y/n)’s literally got a pro helping her with the game,” oscar complains.
“you’re dead. literally doesn’t matter if someone’s helping you or not,” logan states. “we suck, man.”
“okay, i figured out how to defuse the bomb,” max says softly. “what now?”
“learn to play better,” blythe says loud enough for the microphone to pick up her voice. “i’ll teach you guys.”
“thank you for tuning into my stream,” she grins with a clap. “i appreciate all of the support and teaching me how to play the games. and roasting me.”
logansargeant: bro we suck
seb.v5: should stick to racing and leave gaming to blythe and dalton
“i read each and every comment you guys sent in the chat and they’re all very endearing. except yours, seb,” she stares into the camera with a stern expression, “yours were just outright unnecessary and kinda mean.”
oscahpastry: start a podcast next
maxverstappen1: i wanna be first guest
user16: please stream regularly!!
user10: make oscar play lethal company or i’ll cry
oscahpastry: stop giving her ideas
user21: when r u streaming again
“i will try to stream in a couple of days, after my shoots and marketing stuff with the team,” she grins. “thank you for watching me scream for 4 hours. catch you guys soon. stay kind and stay safe.”
user2: i’ll miss you 🫶🏼
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