#on a friday afternoon.... my odds are not good

[naomiknight-17]

I am tired and in pain and I don't wanna go to Walmart but I need bagels and eggs and cat litter

Maybe if there is a scooter available at the store I will let my fat disabled ass use it for once

[cacoetheswriting]

Request!!

Eddie walking in on reader fantasizing abt him<3 and ine thing leads to another they are fucking and then confessing each others love. Smut to fluff basically

If not that’s cool!<3

pairing: roommate!eddie munson x fem!reader [modern day au] word count: 3k

content warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, modern day au, friends/roommates to lovers, smut, suggestive & mature themes, adult language, dirty talk, sexual fantasies, masturbation (f), mutual pining, fingering, allusions to sex

Eddie Munson works shifts.

His schedule is scribbled in black marker and terrible handwriting on the calendar stuck to the fridge of your shared apartment — although, it’s not like you needed to double check when your curly-haired roommate was and wasn’t going to be home, embarrassingly enough, you pretty much had it memorised.

In your defence, it’s not overly hard to remember. 

While your hours are standard, Monday to Friday, nine to five, Eddie works at a nightclub in the city centre — The Black Door. He starts late in the afternoon, so as you come home, he’s rushing out the door with a sandwich between his teeth while he throws on his raggedy denim jacket.

“Have a good night, doll face,” he usually says when you pass each other in the hallway. “Don’t do anything I would do.”

You roll your eyes and usually reply with something you think is witty, if you’re not completely enamored by the way his locks bounce and fall perfectly around his face.

“Try not to burn the place down, Munson. You still owe me half of the rent for this month.”

“Tomorrow,” Eddie says with a grin, “Cross my heart.” He mimics his words and winks, before disappearing down the stairs.

When you close the apartment door behind you with a gentle kick, you have to lean against the frame and take a breath to compose yourself because the feelings you’ve recently developed for your metal-head roommate were too much, too complicated. You needed to try and keep them buried deep.

So, like every other night alone, you do the only thing you can think of to distract yourself and whip out your phone. After some doom scrolling and texting Steve for advice — since he’s the one who gave up his room in the flat, recommending Eddie move in — you open the apps. 

Swipe left, swipe right, left, right, left, left, right. It’s not hard for you to get matches, it’s even easier to get messages which lead to many dates. The odd dinner here, the odd drink there. You like to suggest The Black Door because even though you’re doing this to get over their head bartender, there’s a certain thrill in having him watch you flirt with other guys.

Unfortunately tonight’s date — Tobie with an ie not a y, as specified in his bio — texts to reschedule just as you finish applying some blush pink lipstick. 

Tobie: Hamster died

Tobie: (typing)

Tobie: Next time?

You groan in frustration. Nevertheless, you reply to keep the possibility of a next time open.

You: Sorry to hear about your hamster. Next time, for sure.

Then you type out a quick message to Steve, letting him know he doesn’t need to stalk your location since your date just cancelled. 

Steve: Good. He looked like a douche anyway.

Ignoring Harrington’s comment, you lock the screen then move to the couch where you finish the glass of wine you had poured to drink while getting ready. The alcohol is bitter on your tongue and after you swallow, it makes you feel even more lonesome than moments prior.

Spending your evenings alone wasn’t the worst by any means. You liked to think of yourself as an independent woman and there certainly were other ways you could continue to distract yourself — ways that didn’t involve a man. 

A movie perhaps. Some new Netflix releases to binge watch. Catching up on a favourite podcast. Back to doom scrolling for a minute. Or… You glance at the time on your phone. 7:16pm. Eddie wasn’t due back from his shift anytime soon.

Without giving it a second thought, you lay your head down on the throw cushions and close your eyes. You then proceed to slide a hand down your clothed stomach and you don’t stop, even when you reach the waist of your skirt.

Warmth immediately spreads through you. Even more when you hear a certain sultry voice in your mind, ordering you around. “Come on, doll face.”, or “Show me how much you want me.”.

Well fuck. So much for not thinking about your roommate.

He’s there, behind your eyes. Standing at the edge of the sofa, watching you touch yourself. And he’s doing the same. Fingers wrapped tight around his erect member, rubbing intently while he tells you to keep going and what a dirty, filthy, thing you are.

Cloud nine. Or ten. Who the hell cares. 

You’re lost in your own nasty thoughts, lost in the fantasy, completely oblivious to the sound of metal sliding in the keyhole and the click of the lock. Oblivious to the creak of an opening door and teeter of feet. Oblivious to the fact that there was someone now watching you with their mouth agape.

You’re about to reach that complete high. The mountain top. But then someone clears their throat. No, not just someone. Your roommate, Eddie — and not in your dreams.

Eyes snapping open, your heart drops. You remove your hand from its current position instantly, then slide on the sofa into a seated position, horrified and way too embarrassed to meet his struck gaze.

“Sorry, I-I,” Eddie stumbles and if you had enough courage to look at him, you’d notice he was beet red. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“No, no,” you protest and stand quickly, “I’ll ehh, I’ll go and yeah, sorry you had to see that.”

You continue to avoid his brown-eyes as you rush to your room, locking the door behind you for good measure. Then, since you’ve already lost all self respect and probably also his respect, you slam face first into your bed and scream into your pillow.

What you don’t see is Eddie who grimaces as the shrieks reach his ears. 

He honestly didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable or anything, but it seems if he told you that now, you wouldn’t believe him. He just felt pervy standing there without your knowledge. And would it make it worse if he said he didn’t mind what he saw? That it was actually really fucking hot? Probably, yeah. He should definitely keep his mouth shut.

But Eddie can’t. Not when it comes to you.

Instead, he drops his backpack to the floor and strides toward your bedroom door. One big breath later, he knocks once, twice. No answer.

“Doll face, can you come out and talk to me? Please?”

“Go away, Munson. You’re never seeing my face again.”

He sighs. “Come on, it’s not the worst thing in the world.” Eddie tries to reason. “If it’s any consolation, I didn’t really see all that much. I-I shut my eyes the second I realised what was going on.” It’s a lie, but it’s a white lie. No harm in a white lie.

There’s shuffling inside and the door flies open.

“What are you even doing home so early?” Deflection. Great tactic.

Eddie leans against the frame, stretching his right arm across to pick at painted splinters. “Got into an argument with some weirdo. Bossman sent me home.”

The metal-head must sense your sudden concern because before you can say anything or ask any questions, he says, “And don’t you worry your pretty face about that rent money. I still have a job to go back to ‘cause my actions were in complete self-defence. I was just told to go home and cool off, or whatever.”

You nod, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What did you fight about?”

“Nothing important,” Eddie brushes it off and shrugs after dropping his arm back to his side. “What are you doing here by the way? I thought you had a hot date.”

“Dead hamster,” you say without further explanation, then quickly wonder, “How did you know about my date though?”

“Harrington.”

“Of course.”

There’s a minute of silence. Not awkward, despite everything that’s happened. Quite comfortable actually because that’s how things always are between the two of you.

“Wanna watch a movie?” Eddie asks, another attempt at trying to stir the conversation even further away from what transpired mere minutes ago. “In my room, if you’d prefer that.”

Tried and failed since you glance at the couch and tense all over again. 

There is no way you’re going to sit with him in the same exact spot you just tried to get yourself off to fabricated thoughts of him, all while he walked in on you. You’re probably never going to sit there again, ever.

“We might actually need to invest in a new sofa,” you say, full of shame, and glance up at the curly haired boy.

He rolls his eyes. 

“Would it help if I dropped my pants and—”

“Eddie! Gross!” You screech and smack his chest. “No, it would most definitely not help.”

He shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “Relax, doll face. I was  kidding.” The grin on his face spreads. “At least we know you weren’t thinking about me earlier, judging by that reaction to my very kind offer.”

There must now be a grimace on your face, some sort of physical reaction that you didn’t manage to contain as Eddie’s joke settles in the air around you, because a beat passes and your curly-haired roommate's gaze goes wide. His lips part and something flashes in his brown eyes that you can’t quite deduce, but one thing’s for sure, he knows.

“Oh. Oh.”

Without saying anything else, plausible deniability and all that, you try to shut the bedroom door in his face. Eddie however, has fast reflexes and his foot is now blocking you from doing so. But you keep trying and you lean against the wood, shoving it with your back.

“Now you can really go away, Munson.”

“It’s not—”

“If you utter the words it’s not that big of a deal, I will jump out of my window.”

On the other side of the door, Eddie laughs. “Don’t be dramatic, doll face. No one needs to be jumping out of anything, okay?”

You sigh, looking up at your ceiling as if it held all of the answers.

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one having extremely specific dirty thoughts about your roommate.”

Silence. 

Oddly, now it felt slightly uncomfortable. You sense it immediately. The shift in the air. It’s a little unnerving. Okay. A lot unnerving. Which is why, again without really thinking about what you were doing, you stand straight and open the bedroom door to reveal your roommate’s back. He’s staring at the empty wall, hands on his hips.

“You know,” Eddie starts in a quiet tone and you begin to think the worst, (although you’re about to find out there is really no need). “Before you were my roommate, you were Harrington’s smart, funny, beautiful, hot, city girl roommate.”

“I-I don’t think I’m following.”

Eddie sighs. He spins back to look at you, hands still on his hips.

“Jesus. Okay. Uhm… You’re not the only one with, what is it you said, extremely specific dirty thoughts.” 

You raise your brows in surprise. This is not the turn of events you were expecting.

“Oh.”

“Yeah…”

And then, for reasons not completely clear in that moment, you laugh. Loud and clear. Velvety. It’s music to Eddie’s ears, so he smiles, watching you. You. Still that smart, funny, beautiful, hot, city girl he had a schoolboy crush on. Even more beautiful when you laughed. And all those nights he’d invite himself over, back when you still shared the flat with Steve, and he’d talk nonstop about this girl he liked but didn’t know how to ask out (you), well, all those nights finally felt worth something because now he knew you liked him too.

Eddie’s shoulders relax and he drops his arms from his hips, sucking in his bottom lip between his teeth. 

You notice immediately, eyes glued to where his points are digging into the flesh of his mouth, and the laugh freezes in your throat. The realisation of what Eddie just admitted dawns on you fully. He’s gotten off on fantasies of you long before you ever saw him that way. You don't, however, get to ask him what any of it means, or where you two go from here, because Eddie makes the decision for you.

He reaches for you. One hand on your jaw, the other gripping your waist. His eyes race over your face, as if he’s taking every little detail in since you’ve never stood this close together. You’re admiring his features too. Memorising each crinkle and line. Each mark and freckle. He’s attractive, for sure, but this close and personal, Eddie Munson is the most alluring guy you’ve ever seen.

“I think I’d like to kiss you now,” he whispers, brushing a thumb over your lips. “Unless you’re still thinking of jumping out the window.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, and between your legs. Your gazes latch onto one another and you tip up your chin, inviting him to stay true to his words.

Eddie doesn’t waste a second. He takes your mouth, causing your knees to buckle beneath you, but the hand he’s got on your waist holds you up in place as his lips interlock with yours. The sweetness of the kiss surprises you. It’s pleasant and you find yourself hoping he’ll kiss you this way again, and again. And when the tips of his fingers trail against your cheek, when they travel to the back of your head, settling in place and pushing you in closer, you part your lips and moan softly into his mouth.

He takes this opportunity to slip his tongue in and intertwines it with yours. The hand holding your waist falls slowly, lingering against your body like a shadow as he drops it lower and lower. When he reaches the hem of your denim skirt, he freezes there momentarily.

“I don’t want to overstep, doll face.” Eddie murmurs against your plush lips.

“Please…” You all but whine in response.

“Please what?”

His hazel eyes go dark. Hungry. It sends a shiver down your spine, knowing that he wants you just as much as you want him, if not more.

“Overstep, please.” You slide your nose alongside his, nudging him slightly as you say, “Eddie, t-touch me. I’d like you to touch me.”

He doesn’t hesitate anymore. Swiftly, he pops the button and slides the zipper, letting the garment fall to the ground so that you’re standing in the hallway of your shared apartment with your skirt around your ankles, exposing the black lace of your underwear to your roommate.

Eddie kisses you again. It’s rougher this time, more needy. And while his lips work against yours in perfect harmony, his fingers slide in between your thighs. 

Slowly, Eddie traces your wet heat, teasing with just one finger. Your body is jolting with anticipation. Your skin is soft and warm, writhing under his delicate touch. He can feel tension building as your legs start to tremble and he smirks into your mouth, clearly pleased with himself because he’s barely even touched you. 

Gently, he presses the pad of his index to your entrance, carefully slipping inside as you whimper. He continues pushing in slowly, knuckle by knuckle and you melt around his intrusion. Your arms now pressing your bodies together with all the strength you can muster.

Lewd, wet sounds drift up from between your legs as Eddie begins pumping his fingers in and out of you. Rough. Hungry. He breaks the kiss, crazed eyes looking back to admire your face as you slowly start to come undone. Then you gasp: he curls a finger inside your pussy to mash his palm into your clit, massaging the spot relentlessly.

A moan grows in your throat and your lips part, desperate to let it out. Eddie has another idea though. His free hand clamps over your mouth to muffle the sound. It causes your eyes to widen in shock, but surprisingly to both of you, you lean into it and after a few moments of this treatment, your walls close around his fingers.

You arch your back and Eddie struggles briefly to keep his hand over your mouth. He thinks for a second that maybe he’s being too forceful, forehead to forehead, pushing into you further. Somehow his force only makes you react harder and in a matter of seconds, you deflate, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you cum all over his digits.

Eddie drops his hand from your mouth, grinning. He removes his other hand from between your thighs and you miss him desperately already, though you don’t immediately say because you don’t want to come off as such. He licks his fingers clean then leans down to peck you on the lips as your orgasm haze clears. You can taste yourself on him and it drives you crazy all over again, but when you try to deepen the kiss, your metal-head roommate places his hands on your shoulders and gently pushes you back.

“Let me take you to dinner,” he says simply. 

“Right now?” You pout and manoeuvre your hand in between your bodies to reach for his hard member through his work slacks. “‘Cause I wanna repay the favour.”

Eddie grins then places his hand over yours, intertwining your fingers together. He pulls it out and brings it to his cheek, brushing it softly against his light stubble.

“I am loving the enthusiasm, doll face.” Eddie begins, “But I’d like to try and do this thing right, which means dinner before I further corrupt you, okay?”

“Maybe I’m the one corrupting you.”

“Maybe,” he says with a sly smile, “Either way, the faster we get out of here to grab some food, the faster we can come back and maybe even put that couch to good use.”

You laugh at that.

“So will you stop being stubborn and let me take you to dinner?”

When you nod your head, Eddie’s smile grows even wider. He drops your hand, but only momentarily, to lift your skirt and button it for you. He smooths the material, then once again, he reaches for your hand to lead you out of the shared apartment.

Eddie Munson works shifts.

Only, from now on, whenever he comes home late at night, instead of going to sleep in his room, he stumbles into yours, more than invited.

thank you for reading & please support your writers by reblogging <3

[asahicore]

kiwi and layla - sjy

pairing. jake x fem!reader synopsis. in which you mistake jake’s backpack for your own, making you each go home with the other’s bag. both of you are too curious for your own good, so you quickly find out that you excel in the subject the other is failing - a mutual tutoring agreement ensues, and it turns into much more than what you had expected. genre. high school au, f2l, lots of fluff and some angst too, f2l, shy reader x outgoing jake warnings. food & swearing, mention of parent death and divorce, kms jokes, jake being stupid but also really cute (lmk if i've missed any!) word count. 26.3k a/n. this is part of the unexpected collab !!! go check out the other fics and caelin thank u for hosting <333 hope u guys like this one, it took me a while but i had so so much fun writing it !!! i love my jakey in here he's a little bit confused but he's got the spirit. @zreamy thanks for being the world's awesomest beta reader and a decent friend ig... 2 baddies wouldnt be the same without you... lifeguard wet body sunghoon coming soon guys dont miss it! as always pls remember how important reblogs and feedback is for us writers!!! it's what keeps us going <3 enjoy!!

listen to the playlist!

This was not your backpack. 

In your defense, it looked so similar to yours - scratch that, it was the exact same as yours - that you couldn’t possibly have been able to tell the difference between the two bags until you’d opened one of them. Just a basic black Eastpak that probably a hundred other kids in your school owned with nothing to tell them apart, because you hadn’t had the mind to add a little something to it and make it recognizable. You hadn’t really needed to - your backpack was always on your back, next to your seat or in your locker. There was no way you might lose it or mistake it with another.

Until today, obviously. Instead of having a chill last class before spring break like every other teacher, your psycho math teacher Mr Choi had decided to give you a major test on this otherwise beautiful Friday afternoon. While other students watched a movie or played Kahoot, you were stuck in a cold classroom with algebra questions in front of you. Mr Choi had argued that this would be better than having a test after the holidays and ruining your time off with studying, but a test was a test, and math was math, so you hated the idea anyway. 

To eliminate all cheating possibilities, Mr Choi made his students only take a pencil and eraser with them, leave their bag at the back of the classroom and put their phone in a box he kept on his desk. Plus, with his hawk eyes watching intently, there was no way to sneak answers on a small sheet of paper or even on your palm. 

When the test was over, your brain was so fried and you were so eager to get the hell out of there that you didn’t even notice the two identical black backpacks next to each other, you just grabbed the first one you saw, not even questioning that it might not be yours.

And indeed, yours it was not. From your snooping around, you quickly found out it belonged to one Jake Sim. 

You knew Jake. Although you’d been attending the same school for the past three years, you could probably count the number of times you’d talked on one hand - but you knew him. Or at least, you knew of him. You knew that he was good at STEM subjects and that he was on the soccer team; you knew he was a really sweet guy and was easy to talk to, even for someone shy like you. 

Most importantly, you knew he was friends with Park Sunghoon. This was important because you had liked Park Sunghoon since the moment you’d laid eyes on him - or rather, your whole friend group had. It might’ve sounded extremely odd to others, but you and your friends had a few random people at school you liked to keep tabs on or create backstories for, and Sunghoon, because of his dashing looks that had struck all four of you in your first week of freshman year, was one of your victims. Well, you liked to think of them as characters on a TV show rather than victims, but to each his own. Your other characters included that popular sophomore who already considered herself a celebrity because of her ten thousand followers on TikTok anyway, the French and Spanish teachers you were sure had a thing going on, and that one guy in Yena’s biology class that only showed up every two weeks but always looked stoned (hat guy, Chaewon liked to call him, even you’d never once seen him with a hat on). It was all harmless, really - none of you ever actually went up and talked to them, just discussed them among yourselves.

Perhaps Sunghoon was different, because each of you had had a class with him at some point, so you’d all had at least shared a word with him. You probably hadn’t talked to him more times than you’d talked to Jake, so the information you knew about him was pretty surface-level - he was an ice skater, but everyone knew that, and he was shy like you, which was immediately noticeable. He also had one of the most handsome faces you’d ever seen. But again, everyone who saw him knew that.

You, Yena and Chaewon had debated whether one of you should just go ahead and make a move (Hyewon didn’t participate because she already had a boyfriend, but she was all for approaching the boy). You guessed you could describe what you felt towards Sunghoon as a sort of crush, even if it was one you shared with your friends - you found him cute, and you got nervous when he was around. But you were more the watch-from-afar-and-pine type, so you were satisfied with liking him from a distance. You didn’t think you actually had the guts to strike a conversation with him - that was more Chaewon’s thing.

However, this didn’t mean you weren’t curious about the contents of his best friend’s backpack. Your being shy didn’t mean you weren’t interested in other people’s lives - if anything, you were quite nosy. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but you were just a regular teenage girl, so this was fine, right? After just a few minutes of snooping, you found out Jake Sim wasn’t hiding any big state secrets in his Eastpak, anyway. Just some textbooks, notebooks, and a lot of single sheets of paper. It was pretty messy in there. 

Your idea of him being good at STEM subjects was correct - he kept all of his graded tests in the sleeve pocket of his math notebook, and there was not a single one that had received a note under 95. He even seemed to be doing some extracurricular exercises - there were formulae that were completely unfamiliar to you and that you were sure you hadn’t done in class. You found it slightly insane, but that might have just been because you despised math and wouldn’t understand why someone would want to do more of it than was required of them. 

His English homework was another story. His essays had more red from the teacher’s pen than his own black ink, and from the grades on his reading comprehension tests, you highly doubted he’d actually read any of the assigned books. You weren’t in the same English class but apparently had the same teacher, Ms Park, so you were studying the same thing. You couldn’t help but cringe as you read his answers on a Pride and Prejudice reading test - he seemingly kept mixing the sisters up, assigning actions and character traits to Lydia that clearly belonged to Jane. At least he somewhat got Darcy right, writing that “he’s probably not as bad as he looks,” with no further explanation. 

As you aimlessly flipped through his English notebook, curious about the way he took his notes - or if he even took any - you noticed some scribbles in the margins. Looking closer, some of them were in his handwriting while others were in an unfamiliar one. It looked like some sort of conversation, so you assumed the other writing belonged to his deskmate. You also did this with your friends in classes where the teacher was very strict about no chatting in class.

dude coach said if I fail any of my classes I would be out of the team, you read Jake’s handwriting.

Wait seriously????

yeah and I suck at english so Im scared it might actually happen

You just need to study more bro

bro I DO but this shit is hard

Then find someone to help you

neither of you guys is that good in that subject either tho

Ok ouch but also just find someone else then

bro who

IDK man 

Y/N maybe ? she’s good at English and she’s nice so she might say yes 

there you go about y/n again dude MAYBE you ask HER to teach you some sonnets

Shut up you’re the one who needs help dumbass

whatever isn’t it weird just asking her randomly though like i dont want her to feel like she has to say yes

Lol if she sees your grades she might do it out of pity

fuck u man

You were surprised to see your own name written there - it felt weird knowing that Jake and his friend were talking about you, for some reason. And what if that friend was Sunghoon? You had a hard time believing he not only knew you existed, but thought of you as good at English and nice. You liked to think both of these things were true. 

He was also spot-on about saying you would agree to helping out Jake in those subjects, but what he got wrong was thinking you’d do it out of pity. Clearly, you and Jake were in very similar positions. You didn’t have any sort of club you’d be kicked out of if you failed a class, but it sure as hell wouldn’t look good on your college applications, so you needed to get your math grades up. 

Jake and you both desperately needed something the other person could help with, so you had a feeling he wouldn’t turn down the offer that was brewing in your head.

—

This was not Jake’s backpack.

He noticed it right away - it was much heavier than his own and the straps were tighter around his shoulders than they should be. He looked inside for some clues about who it might belong to, and luckily, the first thing he found was a journal that had Y/N’S DIARY written on the cover page in big, pink letters. 

Unluckily, however, he’d also noticed that you had practically sprinted out of the classroom as soon as the bell rang, and indeed, you were already far gone when he tried looking for you around school. He had to get to soccer practice anyway, so he put the issue to the side for the time being.

When he got home, he had to shower then have dinner, so it wasn’t until 8 p.m. that he remembered he had your backpack. He had meant to text you straightaway about it, and he knew it was wrong to look into someone’s belongings, but he couldn’t help himself, especially when his best friend Sunghoon had liked you for ages. Maybe this was an opportunity to find out more about you.

Your mind-blowing grades in English don’t come as much of a surprise to him, and after reading through your most recent essay, he thought you definitely deserved them. Your essay was on a Shakespeare play he had never heard of - you apparently also had Ms Park for English, and he didn’t know she was doing Shakespeare in class, so he wondered for a second if you were actually crazy enough to read another book and study it. As if 300 pages of Jane Austen weren’t enough as it was. 

What shocked him were your math grades. It was like looking into a fucked-up mirror: while you excelled at English, you sucked at math; while he excelled at math, he sucked at English. You were just as close to failing your math class as he was at failing English.

Now that he thought about it, maybe Sunghoon’s idea hadn’t been so dumb - you could help him out, and he had an actual argument as to why you should, rather than just using pity on you.

As he put your stuff back in your bag, he was reminded of something - your diary. For some reason, the pretty floral pattern on the cover made him feel even worse for opening the journal in the first place, but he did it anyway. Either you’d only just picked up the habit of writing in a diary or you had finished your previous one recently, but this one seemed pretty new, as only about ten pages had been filled with your neat handwriting. Judging from the dates at the top of almost every page, you wrote in there everyday, and Jake only felt even worse that you hadn’t been able to write in it that day.

Still, he flicked to the first page and started reading. And he read and read, unable to take his eyes away from your diary. He thought he wouldn’t have cared much and a page would have satisfied his curiosity, but the way you wrote about the people around you and about yourself fascinated him. Basic high school things like friend drama and annoying teachers actually became interesting through your words. You didn’t use particularly complicated sentences or unheard-of words, on the contrary, you used simple language, and that spoke a lot more to Jake than any of the classics he’d attempted to read for class. 

And then, he saw an all too familiar name in an entry dated from just a few days ago. 

I sat next to Sunghoon today. It was during physics and both of our desk partners were absent, so Mrs Kim made me change seats. She always does this, and I used to wonder whether she hated to see an empty seat or to see a student sitting on their own, but whatever the reason, today, I was just happy about it. This isn’t our first time sitting next to each other in class, but I was still nervous, since I wasn’t expecting it. I hope he couldn’t feel the awkwardness practically oozing off of me or the way I very obviously struggled with the exercises (obviously, anything to do with math is not my forte). We shared my textbook because he’d forgotten his, and he showed me his notes when he saw I couldn’t keep up with Mrs Kim as she told us what to write down. We only exchanged a few words but I was satisfied when class was over. It’s odd, because you’d think someone would want to talk to the person they like and get to know them more, but I don’t feel that with Sunghoon. Maybe it’s because we’re both so introverted, and he seems to have just as hard a time as I do starting conversations, so I’ve sort of accepted our silent fate. I’m fine just continuing to steal glances at him from across the cafeteria. 

After that, there were a few more pages of writing up until yesterday's entry, but it was the only mention of Sunghoon. Jake had apparently been wrong to think that a girl’s diary would be full of rantings about her crush and things along the lines of “omg, he looked at me today”. 

But you had very clearly referred to Sunghoon as the person you liked, and Jake wasn’t going to let that go so easily. This was precious information that he held in his hands now, so he had to figure out how to deal with it properly for your sake as well as his friend’s.

Turns out there was more he could help you with than just algebra.

—

Seeing Jake Sim in a setting other than school was slightly odd, if you were being completely honest. 

You had just been about to text him about the backpack mix-up when you’d received a message from the man himself, asking if you could meet up the next day to exchange them. In response, you’d asked where you should meet, thinking he’d offer either his house or yours, or some halfway point between them, but he surprised you by proposing some café in the center of town. They have good hot chocolate there, he’d said, and that had been enough to convince you. 

And also I have something I want to talk to you about. 

Your stomach had turned at this message - what on Earth could Jake Sim need to discuss with you had been your first thought, and then you realized you also had plans you wanted to share with him. So his idea of going to a café was actually good for you, too.

You’d only been waiting for about five minutes when he appeared at the café, red and panting from seemingly sprinting to his destination. 

“Y/N, I’m sooo sorry,” he immediately said when he saw you waiting. “I was planning to be early, but when I got on the bus I realized I literally forgot your bag, so I had to go back but the next bus wasn’t for another twenty minutes so I just ran the whole way here, and now I’m all sweaty, and I’m late, and I’m really sorry.”

He’d rushed through his sentence and was breathing heavily as he looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer. He seemed so genuinely sorry for such a small thing that after your surprise faded, you started laughing. It was his turn to be surprised, and he immediately stopped talking at the sound of your soft giggles.

“It’s okay, Jake. I haven’t even been waiting five minutes,” you explained, smiling. “Let’s just go in, yeah?”

Jake’s heart did something weird just then, and the feeling was so unfamiliar and confusing that he decided to promptly ignore it. As if in a daze, he stood still for a couple of seconds until the sound of a bell ringing, the one the café had on its doors to signify the entrance or exit of a customer, snapped him out of it. He followed you into the shop, let you order and pay for you both (“I’m the one who took the wrong bag, it’s the least I can do,” you’d said) and sat across from you at a booth in the back.

You gave each other your respective bags back, then started chatting as you sipped on your hot chocolates (Jake had been right - they really were delicious). He was surprisingly easy to talk to, and whether he sensed you were a reserved person or was just naturally talkative, you liked that he both managed to do most of the talking and ask you loads of questions at once. Usually, you wouldn’t have really cared to listen to someone go on and on about their passion for soccer and the recent game that their team had won, but for some reason, you were hooked on Jake’s every word. The way his eyes widened in excitement as he recounted the winning goal he scored, the way the volume of his voice decreased as he filled you in on the team gossip even though no one was listening to your conversation, the way his grin turned into a proud smirk as he mentioned his coach congratulating him - every single one of his actions had you mesmerized. You’d never seen anyone so expressive in their speech, never seen anyone punctuate every sentence with a movement or a facial expression. It was just fun, listening to him.

Even when he didn’t talk, he stayed expressive. He asked you whether you did anything outside of school, and he listened intently as you told him about the theater group you’re in, humming and nodding and laughing at all the right moments. Usually, you wouldn’t have talked about it for more than thirty seconds, afraid to bore others with unnecessary details, but Jake’s reactions and the questions he asked made you actually feel listened to and like what you were talking about was interesting. So you grew more confident and told him what you loved about acting and about theater, about your own gossip (the arrogant actress who got the lead role and thought she was better than everyone else, that one guy who was clearly flirting with three girls at the same time), and you almost couldn’t believe Jake seemed so entertained by your stories. 

“So, you said your group focused on more classic plays, right? Does that mean you’re good at English Lit?”

With his spoon, Jake scooped some whipped cream into his mouth, hoping he was appearing as nonchalant as he was trying to be. He had to make you think he’d deduced that just now and not because he had been snooping through your backpack just the night prior. 

You, however, could not have cared less how he’d figured it out - you were just grateful he had segued into this topic of school and grades, because you’d been wanting to bring it up yourself but had no idea how.

“Um, yeah, actually, it’s my best subject. Math, on the other hand…”

You chuckled as his eyes widened and he leaned in across the table, pointing his spoon at you as he spoke. “See, that’s interesting, because math is my best subject, but I suck at English Lit.”

“Oh, really?” you asked, trying to sound genuinely surprised even though this piece of information was not at all new to you.

“Yeah,” he said, looking back down at his almost-finished drink with a small smile on his face.

“You know-”

“You know-”

You and Jake had spoken at the same time, and your eyes locked for a second before you started laughing. You gestured at him to go on first.

“I actually need pretty urgent help in English. Coach said he’ll put us out of the team if we fail even just one of our courses, and I’m very close to failing that class.” He took a moment to let out a sigh. “So, if you want, we could help each other out. Me with math, and you with English.” 

His eyebrows were slightly furrowed and he bit his lip as he looked at you expectantly. You thought he looked far too nervous for such a simple request, expression more like a boy who’d just asked his crush to the prom rather than offering mutual help you both desperately needed. You couldn’t help the smile that grew on your lips - you had never known Jake Sim to be so… cute. But he was waiting for an answer, so you pushed the thought out of your head.

“That’s a great idea, actually,” you replied, as if you hadn’t had the exact same idea. You were just relieved you hadn’t even had to bring it up yourself. “I also really can’t afford to fail math. It would look terrible on college applications.”

Jake let out a long, loud exhale. “God, yeah, college, I hadn’t even thought of that. Even more motivation to get better grades now,” he said with a chuckle.

You chuckled along, then cleared your throat and sat up straighter. You watched with amusement as Jake mirrored your actions and even the fake serious frown in your brows. You presented your hand for him to shake, which he did without hesitation.

“So it’s a deal then. We’ll tutor each other until we’ve gotten our grades up.”

“Deal,” he replied. As you both withdrew your hands, he dropped his serious facade and burst into giggles, a sound you hadn’t expected from the boy but somehow fit him well. You watched his face closely for a second, noticing the curl of his lips and the crinkle at the corner of his eyes, before breaking into laughter yourself.

You stayed in the café for another half hour, going over details of where and when you’d meet, of what exactly you needed help with (“Everything,” you’d said, to which Jake had replied “Same”), and just talked some more.

“I’m taking the 53 that way,” Jake said when you exited the café, pointing towards the bus stop.

“Oh, so am I!” you exclaimed.

“Seriously?! What’s your stop?”

And that’s how you and Jake figured out you only lived two bus stops away from each other. 

“That’s so cool! It’ll make it easy to meet up then,” he said, and you hummed in agreement. After a pause, he added: “But if we live so close to each other, how come we didn’t go to the same schools earlier? Aren’t you usually supposed to go to the one in your district?”

“I used to live in another part of town,” you explained. “Then my parents divorced when I was in middle school, and I stayed with my dad because he lived closer to the school I was at, but I moved to my mom’s place for high school.”

“‘Cause she lives closer?”

“Yeah, basically.” There was more to it, but you didn’t think Jake would be particularly interested in your parental issues - although you surprised yourself for even considering telling him. If Jake sensed that you weren’t saying everything, he didn’t push, just swiftly changed the topic as you waited for the bus to come.

When you got home some time later, the first thing you did was open your diary and start writing. It had felt wrong not to write in it even just for a day, so it was a relief to feel the pages between your fingers and the familiar scent of the paper and your perfumed pen. You wrote without thinking too much, simply letting all of your musings out into your diary and freely brushing the tip of your pen across the pages. 

You didn’t ever reread your entries right after writing them, but if you had that day, you might have noticed all you could write about was the boy you’d drank a hot chocolate with.

—

Spring break week passed by far too quickly, and it was on the first Monday back at school that you and Jake met again. He had soccer practice on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays, while you had theater rehearsals on Thursdays and Saturdays, so you’d agreed to meet up every Monday and Wednesday after school. Since his mother worked as the school nurse, she drove him to and from school everyday - so on Monday, you met Jake in front of the nurse’s station, waiting for his mom to wrap things up before she drove you both to their home.

You had been surprised to learn that the kind nurse that never asked too many questions and always let students take a nap if they didn’t feel well was Jake’s mom, but upon reflection, it made sense. Once you knew, it was almost obvious that she had raised him - they shared the same friendliness, the same comforting smile and the same ability to make conversation. The whole ride home, she asked you about yourself and thanked you for agreeing to tutor “our little Jakey,” because “God knows he needs the help.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh when a blush crept on Jake’s face and he looked out the passenger seat window with an embarrassed frown, muttering something like “Thanks a lot, Mom.”

She noticed his reaction and laughed along with you. “I’m just saying, Jakey-poo. It’s good to know to ask for help when you need it,” she cooed, reaching a hand out to ruffle his hair. This only made Jake groan loudly and hide his face in his hands. You didn’t know Jake very well, but this flustered, red-faced side of him was definitely one you liked seeing.

The first thing that greeted you when you reached Jake’s house was a happy welcome home bark.

“You have a dog?!” you exclaimed, unable to reel your excitement in.

“Yeah! This is Layla,” Jake said, giving energetic rubs to the Border Collie that made her whole body shake side-to-side but that she seemed to thoroughly enjoy. 

“Hi, Layla,” you cooed, crouching down to her level to let her sniff you. She decided you were a person worthy of petting her. “She’s so cute!”

“I think she likes you,” Jake said, a grin on his face, as he watched Layla presenting her belly to you and asking for scratches there. “Do you have a dog?”

“We have a Corgi at home. And a cat, too.”

“That must be fun,” Jake chuckled. “Do they get along?”

“Depends. They have a bit of a love-hate relationship.” You looked up at Jake, and it was uncharacteristically quiet as you locked eyes for a couple of seconds. You both looked away at the same time, surprised by the sudden eye contact.

You gave Layla one last rub and lifted yourself up. “Um, should we get started?” 

Jake paused for a second as if he’d forgotten what you were here for in the first place, then started nodding his head quickly. “Right, yeah. Let’s go to my room. Downstairs is just one big room and my mom will probably watch TV or make dinner or something, so it might be distracting…” he explained, lightly scratching the back of his neck. It seemed like he was embarrassed to be bringing you to his room, which you couldn’t help but find endearing.

“Okay, sounds good,” you said with a smile, hoping it’ll reassure him.

You followed him up to his room, ignoring his complaints as you lingered on the framed photos on the wall next to the stairs and giggled at his baby pictures. 

“Do not look at those,” he said with a warning tone that didn’t scare you in the slightest. When you didn’t listen, he grabbed your hand that had been pointing at a photo of baby Jake in the bathtub and forced you to keep walking.

“Why?” you asked, a slight whine to your voice.

“‘Cause it’s embarrassing! I was an ugly baby.”

“What?! You were so cute!”

“Whatever. I’d rather study English than talk about this, and that’s saying something.”

When you looked at Jake, you were surprised to find that he actually seemed upset about this. You weren’t sure what was so wrong with looking at his baby pictures, but the last thing you wanted to do was make him mad, so you stayed quiet and continued your way to his room. Once there, although you were infinitely curious about all the posters, pictures, figurines, trophies, and other small tokens of Jake’s life, you didn’t ask him about any of them, just sat next to him at his desk and opened The Picture of Dorian Grey, the book you had both been studying in Ms Park’s class.

You’d agreed on spending forty-five minutes on English, have a small break, then spend forty-five minutes on Math. It wasn’t a lot, but you both had other homework and things outside of school you needed to do, so you’d decided to start out that way and see if it worked out.

You were glad to see how seriously Jake was taking this - he listened intently to what you said and asked questions when he didn’t understand something. You quickly figured out that what he didn’t like about English Literature was that the answers weren’t as straightforward or as logical as they were in math, and even worse, that multiple answers were possible depending on the reader’s interpretation. 

“It just all feels like a guessing game,” he said, resting the side of his head on one of his palms. “How am I supposed to know what this dude meant? And if it can be analyzed in different ways, how can Ms Park tell me the way I understand it is wrong?”

“It’s all about the way you justify it,” you explained. “You can’t just say whatever. Ms Park will look out for how you use the text to support your answers.” You then went on to pick out a specific part of the book, asking Jake to analyze Dorian’s mindset in that scene. 

“He sounds like he’s going insane,” Jake said flatly when he was done reading, getting a chuckle out of you.

“Exactly. How do you know that?”

“I don’t know, just the words he uses,” Jake replies, shrugging.

“Okay, underline those words,” you instructed gently. Jake sighed, but he complied.

“There.” 

“Good. What can you say about those words?” When Jake just looked at you like a lost puppy, you reformulated your question. “What do they have in common? What type of words are they? Are they common nouns, verbs…”

Jake looked back at the words he’d underlined on the page. “They’re… adjectives?” he said, tone unsure.

“Exactly!”

Jake paused. “So?”

“So now you can say that the author uses many adjectives to convey the gradual loss of sanity of the main character.”

“Oh.”

When you looked at Jake, he wore an expression like the words on the page were finally starting to make sense to him. “That’s the content. You can also look at the structure. See how many punctuation marks there are? Commas, semi-colons, question marks… It’s like he keeps cutting himself off. His thoughts are all over the place.”

Jake nodded slowly. “So, I just need to look out for things like that?”

“Basically, yeah. And the more you practice, the more these things will stand out to you. It actually becomes somewhat repetitive sometimes.”

Jake let out a shaky breath. “That’s actually relieving to hear,” he said with a chuckle.

Thirty minutes passed by like this as you showed Jake ways to make sense of a literary text. When the timer rang, he leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms out wide with a sigh. He put his hands behind his head and let it hang back, and the way your stomach flipped at the sight of his exposed neck and Adam’s apple made you look away immediately. You could barely meet his eyes as he turned his head to look at you, still in that same position, and, with a smirk, asked if you were ready for some snacks. 

You gulped, trying to look as normal as possible. “Uh, yeah, sure!”

Downstairs, Jake presented you with all sorts of snacks - there were so many, you felt like you were in a convenience store. This was worlds away from your ingredient-only household. You opted for some biscuits and a banana while Jake made himself a bowl of cereal. A very distracting ten-minute long argument then ensued about the order of milk and cereal - horrifyingly, Jake poured his milk before his cereal. You thought it was a myth that some people actually did it that way, but Jake very proudly defended his choice. 

“I bet you eat pizza with pineapple on it, too,” you said half-jokingly, only for your joke to punch you right back in the face.

“Duh,” Jake answered.

You could only shake your head in defeat. “Let’s just get back to studying before I murder you.”

“Damn, Y/N,” Jake said, laughing. “That’s harsh.”

“And you’re a freak,” you retorted, a grin blooming on your lips.

“You know, you remind me of my friend Jay,” Jake mused as you walked back up the stairs. “He has so many of these small battles that he just won’t let go of. He got super worked up over an argument about mint chocolate chip ice cream once.”

“Let me guess, you like that ice cream?”

Jake shrugged. “It’s not my favorite, but I’ll have it once in a while.”

“God, Sim, you just get worse and worse.”

You sat back down at his desk and started eating. “I bet you think I’m weird for liking math too, right?”

“That’s the worst offense of them all.” 

Jake’s sudden quietness caught you off guard. When you turned your head to look at him, he was already gazing at you with a smile and a sort of thoughtful glint to his eyes, resting his chin on his palm. It sounded like he was thinking out loud when he spoke next. “Guess we’re perfect opposites of each other. Like two peas in a pod!”

The realization of what he’d said dawned upon him as soon as the words left his mouth. He slowly lifted his head as his eyes widened. “I don’t mean- just, you know, since you’re good at English and I’m good at math, and- you know… I didn’t mean it in a weird way, or anything…”

His eyes kept glancing back and forth between you and his bowl of cereal, as if he was scared of looking directly at you but wanted to check your reaction. 

As a smile grew on your face, you kept your eyes trained on your biscuits so he wouldn’t see your flustered expression. But when you looked at him again, he held your gaze, mouth slightly agape. You didn’t have it in you that he had gotten the idiom completely wrong. “I know, don’t worry.” You chuckled. “We are opposites of each other. You just better be as good at teaching math as I am at teaching English,” you teased.

You watched as a smirk tugged one corner of Jake’s lips up and he raised an eyebrow. “Who said you were good at teaching English?”

You gasped. “You said you understood better now!”

Jake’s smile softened as he giggled. “I’m just teasing. You are a good teacher.”

You sat up straighter at the compliment, a proud smile on your face. “Your turn, Mr Sim. I’m all ears.”

“Right,” he said, mirroring your posture. “Shall we start by going over Mr Choi’s test from last week?” 

Your smile dropped instantly at this. Reluctantly, you fished your graded paper out of your bag. You already knew Mr Choi was a psychopath, but you still didn’t understand where he found the will to grade thirty papers over the weekend. You avoided Jake’s gaze as you handed him your test with a big, red, circled D- at the top.

You cringed as Jake sighed. “At least it’s not an F, right?” he said in what you could tell was an attempt at reassurance but somehow only made you feel worse. He looked over your answers quickly, trying to find what in particular you struggled with. “All right. Let’s start from the beginning, yeah?”

For the next forty-five minutes, Jake went over each test question with you, breaking them down and explaining how to solve them in a way you understood. The words he used were so much clearer than the half-assed explanations you were used to from Mr Choi, and for once, math actually made some sort of sense. Your brain still felt broken after almost an hour of numbers and greek letters, but at least, you felt smarter rather than dumber at the end of it. You had never been more grateful for the sound of a phone alarm than the one signaling tutoring was over. 

“That wasn’t half-bad, right?” Jake asked with a wide grin.

You felt so tired, you could probably pass out right then and there, but Jake looked so proud of himself after you had been able to complete an exercise correctly on your own that you didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. “Right,” you replied, mirroring his grin. “You’re an okay teacher, I guess.”

He jokingly glared and tutted at you, but you both laughed right after. “I need to walk Layla, so I can walk you home, if you want?” he offered as you started packing your things. His words had an uncertain tone to them, as if he wasn’t sure you’d still want to spend time with him after this - but it only took you a second of thinking to realize you’d rather continue hanging out with him than going home on your own.

“Sure! I need to walk Kiwi too, actually.”

“Your dog’s name is Kiwi?!”

“Yes,” you said, chuckling at his fascinated tone.

“That’s an adorable name.”

“Thanks, I chose it.”

“Oh, then I take it back. Worst name I’ve ever heard for a dog.”

“Hey!” you exclaimed, lightly hitting him on the head with your math notebook, making him raise a hand in self-defense as he laughed.

“Sorry, sorry. Does your cat also have a fruit name?” 

A pause. “Mango,” you mumbled, and he immediately burst into laughter again. You side-eyed him as you zipped up your bag.

“Wow, you have amazing taste in pet names, Y/N.”

“Shut up,” you said, laughing along. Then you realized something, and you suddenly stopped laughing, looking up at Jake with wide eyes that made him slightly start to panic. “Oh my God, Jake, are our dogs going to meet?”

“Our dogs are going to meet,” he echoed in a sort of fascinated whisper. You both understood the other - dogs becoming friends was the cutest thing ever.

“Let’s go,” you whispered back excitedly.

When you reached the living room downstairs, you bid Mrs Sim goodbye, then went to the entrance to put your shoes back on. “You two sure get along well,” you heard her say to her son with a suggestive tone. Even though she had dropped the volume of her voice, the door was wide open and there were only a few meters between you, so you’d heard her loud and clear. 

“Geez, Mom,” Jake groaned, seemingly irked by his mom’s insinuation.

“It’s just you’ve never brought a girl home, Jakey-”

“Okay, we’re leaving now! Layla, come!”

You hadn’t even realized how wide you were grinning until Jake saw you tying your shoelaces and grumbled “What are you smiling so hard for.”

“Nothing,” you giggled, and your smile grew as you watched a grin break through his pretend-upset expression.

You sighed contentedly as you stepped outside, letting the crisp early April air hit your face. You tightened your scarf around your neck and buried your hands in your pocket and you and Jake started walking side by side, Layla happily leading the way. The streets were fairly quiet at this time of day, save for the yells of children still playing in their backyards before dinner and a few cars of people coming home late from work.

Only the first five seconds of the walk were silent, until you couldn’t contain yourself anymore. “So, never brought a girl home, huh?” you asked with a teasing smirk.

Jake let out an offended scoff and looked up to the sky as if God could help him out of this one. Sadly, He didn’t, so Jake had to find an answer himself. “I’m not talking about this with you.”

“Why not?”

Pouting, Jake spared you a sideway glance. “Because you’re a girl,” he replied, voice lowered to a mumble.

You chuckled at this. “Very astute observation, Jake.”

“No, I- Ugh,” he groaned before laughing along with you. “I don’t need a girl to know how bad I am with- well, with girls.”

“I can help with that,” you said before you really thought about it. “I mean, I’m not a love expert by any means, but I can maybe give, I don’t know, pointers or something if there’s someone you like-”

“There’s no one I like,” Jake quickly cut in. “Um, not right now, at least.”

“O-okay,” you replied, nodding. “That’s fine.” 

“What about you? Do you like anyone?”

As Jake asked the question, he realized he already knew the answer - you liked Sunghoon. How could he forget?! Half of his plan had been to make you get closer to his friend, but he hadn’t even started thinking about that yet. In his defense, he’d come up with that plan three days ago.

Your answer surprised him. “Um, no, me neither. Not right now, at least,” you said, repeating his words with a smile on your face. You locked eyes for a second before looking away at the same time, chuckling.

“Right,” he said. He knew what he had read in your diary, so maybe you were just too shy to admit you had a crush on his friend of all people.

An unexpected awkwardness settled between the two of you, and you more than anything wanted it to go away. Even though it’d only been a few days since you and Jake had started getting to know each other, you already felt comfortable enough to be yourself around him, and it usually took you weeks before reaching that level with anyone. This hadn’t happened since you met Yena and Hyewon at the beginning of high school - they had been friends since middle school, and so had you and Chaewon, and when the four of you met, you had instant chemistry. But maybe it was slightly too early to start talking about crushes with Jake.

For once, you were the one to break the silence - you asked him whether he knew what he wanted to do after school. Basic question, but you were genuinely curious. 

Looking a little bashful, he confessed his dream had always been to be a math teacher and soccer coach at a middle or high school. You told him he already had the talent for it, and when he blushed at your words, you made sure to tease him for it.  

“I’m not sure yet,” you said when he returned the question. “I know I wanna go to college and continue doing English Lit and theater there, but that’s about it.”

“That’s already good enough,” Jake said with a smile. “Still got time to figure out what comes after, right?”

You naturally mirrored his smile - there was something contagious about Jake’s puppyish grin that made it hard not to smile yourself. “Right.”

The three of you reached your house quickly after that. Your mom still hadn’t come home from work, so Kiwi was even more excited than usual for your arrival home. You and Jake watched fondly as your dogs sniffed each other for a few seconds before starting to run around together. The fact that they got along made you really happy, perhaps unreasonably so, and you started bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet as you watched them play. “Our dogs are friends!” you exclaimed excitedly. 

When you turned to look at Jake, he wasn’t watching the dogs like you had been - he was gazing straight at you, eyes soft with something that made your heart skip a beat. You couldn’t look away, and it was only after a few seconds that he seemed to snap out of the sort of daze he was in. He cleared his throat and you finally tore your eyes away from him.

“Let me just- Kiwi! I need to put his leash around him,” you said, speaking quickly to dissipate the weird atmosphere as best as you could. You led Jake down the path you usually took with Kiwi that led to a park in your neighborhood, and you were relieved when normal conversation started again.

Jake insisted on walking you back to your house even though he had left his earlier. He made a whole show of not going until you’d walked inside and closed the door, so you’d rushed to your window to shout his name and wave goodbye at him, which made him laugh.

You turned back to Kiwi when Jake and Layla had turned a corner and you couldn’t watch them anymore. “Are you happy you made a new friend, Kiwi?”

The Corgi barked happily at you in response - probably more at hearing his name than because he understood your question, but still, you liked to think you could communicate with your dog on such a level. You chuckled and took him in your arms. “Me too.”

—

Apparently, you couldn’t even wave to someone in the hallway without being interrogated about it anymore.

“Y/N, did you just say hi to Jake Sim?” Chaewon asked like you’d just insulted her whole family.

It was 10 a.m. on a simple Tuesday morning, the day after Jake and you had studied together for the first time, and you’d just walked past the boy - so of course, you said hi to him. Maybe, your heart started beating slightly faster when you’d noticed him approaching. Maybe, it was nice to be on the receiving end of his friendly grin.

“Yes?” you replied, sentence coming out more like a question.

“Since when do you say hi to Jake Sim?!” 

“Since today, I guess.”

“But why?!” She’d raised her voice so much, you’d gotten strange looks from other students in the hallway. 

“I told you!”

She shook her head slowly at you as if to say, No you didn’t!

You rolled your eyes and sighed. Chaewon and her early onset short-term memory loss. “The backpack thing? And agreeing to tutoring each other? I wrote to the group chat about this!”

“Oh, that! Of course I remember that,” she said, even though you knew she had forgotten about it and remembered it just now. “So, has that started already?”

You reached the classroom for your next class and sat down in your usual seats next to each other, waiting for the teacher to arrive. Busy hallways like these were the perfect place for gossip, because they were loud and nobody paid attention to others’ conversations. “Yeah, yesterday afternoon.”

Chaewon gasped. “And you didn’t tell us?!”

“Will you quiet down? I was going to see and tell you guys today anyway.”

“Okay, so, tell me about it.”

“But-”

“Tell. Me.”

You wouldn’t see Yena and Hyewon until lunch in two hours, and you knew Chaewon didn’t have the patience to wait until then. So you sighed again and obliged, telling her about your afternoon with Jake in every detail you could remember, because she would ask about insignificant things anyway. 

To your surprise, the first thing she said when you were done talking was this: “Y/N, do you like Jake?”

Your mouth opened slightly in shock at the question, but before you could even retort, you started giggling. “No, I don’t,” you said in a way that sounded like you very much did.

“Oh my God! You so do!” Chaewon said, giggling along with you. “You whore, you’ve only talked to him, like, twice,” she joked.

You gasped fake-dramatically and slapped her arm. “Oh please, look at Hyewon and Jaemin, they started dating after a week of talking.”

“Yes, and they’ve been going one year strong, so clearly, you need to ask Jake out and get this over with. You’ll get a boyfriend and a math tutor all-in-one, it’s a perfect deal!”

“Don’t get too carried away, okay? Jake and I are friends. Like you said, we barely know each other right now.”

You meant this - sure, you had had a really good time with Jake both times you saw him, and you were looking forward to your next tutoring session, but you chalked it up to the excitement of making a new friend. Plus, barely last week you felt some sort of way towards his best friend - wouldn’t it be weird to practically transfer your feelings from Sunghoon to Jake?

“Whatever. Yena and Hyewon are gonna freak when I tell them,” Chaewon said excitedly.

You shook your head at your friend but couldn’t keep down the amused grin on your face. “You guys are insane.”

“Oh please, like you’re not the president of our Park Sunghoon fanclub. I can’t believe you’re leaving us for his best friend!”

“Hey, if anything, less competition for you, right?”

Chaewon opened her mouth to say something, but the teacher arrived, starting the lesson before having even put her bag down - Mrs Lee always arrived late but never wasted a second of class when she was in the room. Your friend resorted to sticking her tongue out at you instead, and you chuckled at her childishness as you opened your History notebook. 

—

Jake was a complete, total, utter idiot. His plan had consisted of two things only, and he’d somehow managed to forget one of them, even after talking about it with you, albeit vaguely. It had taken him two weeks and one Park Sunghoon to even remember it.

Between Jake’s soccer practice, Sunghoon’s ice skating practice and Jay’s being away at boarding school, the three friends only had one night every week on which they were all free - Friday night. So, every Friday, they planned some sort of hang out at one of their houses and gamed or watched movies all night.

Kinda like date night, but for bros.

This was one of those bro nights; namely, the one in the second week of you and Jake tutoring each other. The boys had decided to go to the burger joint they like that night and were in the middle of a french fry fight when Sunghoon mentioned your and Jake’s new friendship.

“So, Jake… what’s up with you and Y/N?”

Jake halted in his motions, redirecting to his mouth the fry he was about to throw at Jay. “Nothing’s up with me and Y/N. What makes you say that?”

“Just, you know, you seem like you’ve become actual friends. Talking in the hallways and walking your dogs together and whatnot.”

“Y/N as in Y/N? Sunghoon’s Y/N?” Jay said, halfway through a bite of his cheeseburger.

“She’s not my Y/N-”

“Yes, Y/N as in Y/N, you idiot,” Jake cut in. “And like you said, we’re friends.”

“Is she the girl you posted some BeReals with?” Jay asked, and Jake nodded. “She’s pretty! No wonder Sunghoon likes her so much.”

Sunghoon sighed as he let his head hang low. “God forbid I find a girl cute, because I’ll mention it once, two years ago and you guys make me out to be in love with her.”

“Sunghoon, you act like girls don’t exist, so of course when you not only mention a girl, but describe her as cute, that means you’re in love with her!”

“But I’m not! We were literally having a whole conversation about girls, I happened to see Y/N and her friends from far away, I said she was cute, and now you guys won’t let me live it down. Jay, you weren’t even there!”

“Yeah, but the way Jake told me about the whole thing, it really sounded like you liked her.”

“Why would you trust Jake to relay something like this correctly?!”

Jay paused and tilted his head. “You have a point there.”

“Hey!”

“So you don’t, like… like her, or something?” Sunghoon asked, looking at his friend as he sipped on his Pepsi.

This made Jake stop. Did he like you? Wasn’t the fact that he was considering it sign enough? Surely, if there was nothing there, he would have answered no right away.

But there was no use thinking about it. You liked Sunghoon. And as much as he liked to deny it, Jake knew Sunghoon liked you, too. After two years, there was finally an opportunity for the two of you to get closer - Jake wasn’t about to get in the middle of that. If anything, he should help his friends out. Then, when you and Sunghoon eventually got married, Jake would have the honor of saying it was all thanks to him in his best man’s speech. 

“No, I don’t. Don’t worry, Hoon, I’m not gonna steal your girl away from you.”

“Again, she’s not my girl-”

“Whatever you say. I’ll introduce you guys.”

Even if Sunghoon didn’t think he liked you yet, Jake knew it was just a matter of time - his friend just needed to spend a few hours with you to realize he did. You were pretty, smart, funny, nice, had the sweetest laugh he’d ever heard, got along with dogs, and even though you sometimes had weird opinions, it was always fun, talking to you. It was easy and comfortable. Anyone with taste would fall for you.

Anyone, except for Jake, of course.

—

For the past three weeks, you and Jake had gotten along perfectly, but today, on this bright Tuesday afternoon, you really wanted to strangle him. 

When he’d invited you to come and watch him at soccer practice, you’d been surprised, but happy - usually, you invited people to watch an actual game, not just practice. But you were just glad for the opportunity to spend more time with him. 

Without realizing it, you were giddy with excitement the whole day, counting down the minutes until classes were over and Jake’s practice started. Jake had told you to just head to the bleachers while the players got ready in the locker room, but when you reached said bleachers, someone was already sitting there, looking at something on their phone. You recognized him immediately as Sunghoon. He didn’t notice you right away, so you had time to wipe the surprise off of your face - you hadn’t thought anyone came to watch practice, but Sunghoon was probably here for Jake, just like you. 

“Hey,” you said quietly as you sat down next to him. Even though you were technically still on school property, this was the first time you saw Sunghoon outside of somewhere like a classroom, a hallway or the cafeteria. You weren’t as nervous as you thought you’d be, seeing him unexpectedly like this. 

You chuckled when Sunghoon started at your sudden arrival. “Oh, hey, Y/N,” he said, chuckling too, albeit somewhat awkwardly. “Sorry, didn’t hear you coming.”

“It’s fine,” you said with a smile as you sat down next to him on the bleachers. You didn’t know what sort of distance was appropriate between you two, if you should sit close or far, but you stopped yourself before you could overthink something as trivial as that. Neither of you said anything for a few seconds and you wished practice had started before you got here, so that you’d have something to look at other than an empty field.

You broke the silence before it became too uncomfortable. “So, do you come watch Jake often?”

You’d been fiddling with your hands as you spoke, only turning your head to look at Sunghoon as you awaited his answer. Your eyes didn’t even meet for a fraction of a second before he whipped his head to look at the field, as if unable to look at you and talk at the same time. At least he had a nice side profile for you to look at.

“Um, just on Tuesdays. I have ice skating practice after this, so I come here first, then he comes with me to the rink,” he replied. He glanced at you, lips pressed into a thin line that somewhat resembled a smile and that pushed dimples into his cheeks. You simply hummed in response. 

“What about you, how come you’re here?”

“Jake asked me,” you replied. Sunghoon let out a long “oh” as he nodded, turning his head back towards the field again. You didn’t think you’d ever had such a slow conversation. It was like you and Sunghoon both repeated your words ten times over in your heads before saying them out loud.

“Are you coming to my practice, too?” he asked after another pause.

The question took you aback slightly as you hadn’t even considered it, but it could be fun, seeing Sunghoon practice ice skating. It’d also be fun to hang out with Jake. “If it’s fine with you, then yeah, why not,” you replied, smiling at Sunghoon. He glanced at you again before looking away with a smile, an actual one this time that showed his teeth and made his eyes crinkle.

“Yeah, sure. People usually only come to actual shows, so I like it when someone’s there to watch practice.” Before you could find something to say, the players arrived jogging onto the field, immediately starting their warm-up laps. Some were serious about it and stayed focused as they ran, while others goofed around, running backwards and slapping other players on their butts before sprinting away. Jake, of course, was part of the latter group.

Now that something was actually happening on the field, you and Sunghoon had an excuse not to make conversation anymore. You tried to ignore it, but it was so awkward you wanted to die. You realized now why you were so attracted to people like Jake and Chaewon - without even being aware of it, they brought you out of your shell and made you feel at ease. You wished you could do that on your own, but you were always too scared, so you needed that person who was confident enough showing themselves to you first to make you feel comfortable doing the same. You and Sunghoon, unfortunately, were too similar in that sense to do that for each other. So you just sat there in silence, observing Jake and waving back at him when he caught your gazes.

The ninety minutes of practice didn’t go by in total silence - you asked Sunghoon about some soccer rules you didn’t get, and he shared some anecdotes from his and Jake’s earlier teenage years, including a very entertaining story about a tantrum 9-year-old Jake had thrown when he hadn’t agreed with the red card the referee had given him. You weren’t sure how the topic came up, but at some point, you even shared pictures of your pets. Sunghoon had one of those small crusty white dogs, but you kept your laughter in and cooed over how cute she was. 

But still, most of the time, you were watching Jake. You had never been interested in soccer or any sort of sport that involved balls until now. Somehow, he managed to make flushed cheeks, a heaving chest and hairline beaded with sweat look glorious. In total honesty, you were paying more attention to the player himself than to the sport, to the point that you barely noticed when he scored a goal during their practice match. It was only when Jake started cheering and high-fiving his teammates that you realized what had happened, and you gave him two thumbs up and a wide grin when he looked your and Sunghoon’s way, proudly shouting “Did you see that?!”

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks right there and then. The way your heart swelled as you watched his excited, puppyish grin take over his features was undeniable - you liked Jake. You like liked him. Your gaze continued to follow him as he finished his celebratory lap. If you could’ve seen yourself right then, you’d probably have been embarrassed by your awestruck expression and slightly agape mouth, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Much to your dismay, you realized that Chaewon had seen right through you. You hadn’t wanted to read too much into your feelings, but they had become too obvious to ignore. You hadn’t experienced them yourself since middle school (Choi Soobin had really been a heartbreaker back then), but you’d heard about the telltale signs of a crush too many times not to know about them. It was now clear that the way you felt about Jake and the way you had felt about Sunghoon were worlds apart. Feeling nervous around him and your heart skipping a beat when you made eye contact; wanting to see him smile; laughing at all his jokes, even the bad ones; missing him even though it’d been seconds since you said goodbye, and counting down the days until you saw him again. And, yes, looking at his pictures on social media over and over again. You did all those things, so you knew there was no point in lying to yourself anymore - you liked Jake Sim. 

It didn’t help that he was always kind to you, never making you feel stupid for not understanding something in your tutoring sessions and being patient enough to explain the same thing over and over again. He always paid attention to small things, which never failed to make your heart race, like asking after your aging cat’s condition after you’d told him he had a health check-up over the weekend or stocking up on your favorite snack the week after you’d told him about it. He’d also immediately picked up on your habit of teasing the people you felt comfortable with and you loved how he returned it tenfold. It was as much fun debating with him over nothing and making him shut up with your senseless arguments as it was being rendered speechless when he came up with the perfect retort. 

And of course, there was no denying that Jake was ridiculously attractive. There were times you got so caught up in the way his lips moved as he spoke or the way his fingers looked as he pointed at numbers on the page that your mind completely blanked out and you stopped listening to his words for a few seconds. You didn’t know what to make of his small chuckle and smirk when he noticed your gaze fixated on him, but you knew it wasn’t good for your heart. And let’s not even get started on the fact that sitting so close to him meant you could smell the lingering scent of his cologne every single time.

Even now, with flushed cheeks and hair slicked back with sweat, you want to run onto the field and give him a big smooch on his cheek, telling him you were proud of him for scoring that goal.

But even though you were getting closer and he had offered for you to come watch his practice, you squashed down as best as you could any hope that he might feel the same way about you. Even if he insisted he was bad with girls, Jake was popular at school, and you were sure there were many other girls who had a crush on him - so why would he like you of all people?

Sunghoon’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Every time he scores, he acts like it’s the first time he’s ever done it,” he said, chuckling and shaking his head at his friend’s over-dramatic antics. The coach was trying to get Jake to calm down so that the game could resume.

“He’s so cute,” you said, voice quiet, before you could stop yourself. But as soon as the words were out, you realized what you’d done, and your eyes doubled in size as you turned to look at Sunghoon. He had whipped his head to look at you, too, and his eyes were just as big as yours. Then, he burst into laughter, and you hoped the Earth would suddenly open beneath your feet and swallow you whole. 

When his surprise had subsided, Sunghoon turned to you again, an incredulous but amused glint in his eyes. “Did you just call Jake cute?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, slightly frowning as you avoided Sunghoon’s gaze. “I just meant, you know, it’s cute how excited he got. I didn’t say he was cute,” you mumbled, knowing you were doing a poor job of defending yourself.

“That’s exactly what you said, though. You said, and I quote, He’s so cute.” You glared at Sunghoon. Who knew he would only become talkative once it came to teasing you about Jake? 

His expression softened slightly when he realized you might actually be upset about this, and he turned his attention back towards the field, smile growing when he found his friend. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything.”

“There’s nothing to be said anyway.”

“Oh? So you don’t mind if I tell Jake that you have the biggest, fattest crush on- hmph!”

You’d cut Sunghoon off by pressing your palm to his mouth, mustering the most menacing look you could to scare him off. “I do not,” you said firmly as you moved your hand away from him.

“Sure, you don’t,” he replied, chuckling. Clearly, your most menacing look wasn’t so menacing.

“I get why Jake’s so annoying now, it’s because he’s friends with you.”

Sunghoon raised an amused eyebrow at this. “He might be annoying, but he’s also cute, right?”

“Shut up!” you shrieked immediately, but you couldn’t stop the grin forcing its way onto your lips.

“Just saying,” Sunghoon said, and you laughed together. Maybe you should’ve been more worried about Jake’s literal best friend finding out you had a crush on him, but you somehow trusted Sunghoon not to blabber about it. Whether because he was nice or because he wanted to watch you struggle with your feelings, you weren’t sure, but at least you felt your secret was safe with him.

You looked back at the field, and just as your eyes found Jake, you saw him turn his head away. Had you seen him just seconds prior, you might have noticed the crease in his eyebrows as he watched you and Sunghoon laugh together. Sunghoon isn’t that funny, he thought, what could you be laughing so hard about?

He didn’t understand the sudden weight in his heart at the sight of you and his friend getting along so well. This was his whole plan after all - force some proximity between you and Sunghoon so that you could talk and hopefully make your feelings clear to each other after some time. Clearly, it was working. So why was it bothering him so much? 

He had to turn his attention back to the game, so he could only ruminate over it for five seconds, but for the remaining thirty minutes, he could barely focus on anything. Whenever he glanced back at you and Sunghoon, you were both looking at him and not talking to each other, and that somehow bothered him even more. 

He used his time in the lockers to get out of the weird mood he was in - whatever was going on between you and Sunghoon, he didn’t want to ruin it by being grumpy. So when he came back out and found the two of you waiting for him at the bus stop, he put on his best smile. 

Having you around made his usual Tuesday afternoon with Sunghoon more fun - after years of friendship, Sunghoon ignored most of his jokes and could tune the sound of his voice out, but you still laughed at everything he said, and his heart swelled with pride every time he made you laugh.

It was only a ten-minute bus ride from the school to the ice rink so you still had twenty minutes to spare before Sunghoon’s lesson started. As always after soccer practice, Jake was famished, so you stopped by a convenience store and got more snacks than you really needed.

You sat next to Sunghoon and across from Jake at a picnic table in front of the ice rink, watching the boy in front of you with fascination as he gorged himself on banana milk and chocolate snacks.

“God, how long has it been since you last ate?” you asked with genuine concern in your voice. Sunghoon followed your gaze towards Jake, only then noticing his friend’s feral behavior as if this was a normal occurrence for them.

“Like three hours,” Jake answered. “I’m starving. So hungry I could eat Sunghoon.”

When he looked up, you were both peering at him with furrowed eyebrows and bewildered expressions on your faces. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Do you mean that Sunghoon is a horse?” you asked.

Jake mirrored your confused expressions. “What? No, why would I say that?”

“The saying goes, so hungry I could eat a horse, dumbass,” Sunghoon chimed in.

“Why would I eat a horse?” Jake replied, shaking his head and chuckling at you and Sunghoon like you were the ones who had gotten a basic idiom wrong.

“Why would you eat me?” Sunghoon bit back, sounding almost offended.

“It’s just a saying, dude.”

Half-an-hour and two whole packets of biscuits later, you and Jake sat side-by-side on the benches, watching Sunghoon as he did his warm-ups on the ice. This was your first time seeing a professional ice skater and you were transfixed, to say the least. He was just skating across the rink and rolling his arms and neck to get the muscles moving, but it all seemed so effortless and elegant that you couldn’t help but watch with your mouth slightly open, eyes eager to keep up with Sunghoon’s figure.

You were so mesmerized that you had no idea Jake was practically burning holes into the side of your face. Eyes narrowed and nose scrunched in disgust, he couldn’t believe you were enjoying the show in front of you that much. “He’s not even doing anything special right now, you know,” he said, but it only made him realize that when Sunghoon did start doing cool stuff, you’d like it even more.

Your head barely budged in Jake’s direction as you answered him, and your eyes certainly didn’t leave Sunghoon. “Really? It already looks so cool, though.” Jake scoffed, but that still didn’t get your attention, which made him scoff again. He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned like a child whose parent wasn’t paying attention to their drawing. 

“Cooler than me?”

Finally, you look at me, Jake thought, and his frown immediately dissipated into a grin when your eyes met. But judging by the teasing way your lips curled up, he already knew he wasn’t going to like your answer.

“Cooler than you,” you replied before turning your attention back to the rink.

Jake leans back with a pout, opting to glare at his friend instead of you. He tried to put himself in your shoes and figure out what it was about Sunghoon you liked so much that Jake didn’t also have. Devastatingly good looks? Check. Charming smile? Check. Cute dog? Check - Jake more so than Sunghoon. Brains? Okay, both of them lacked this. Good personality? Check - however, you needed months before Sunghoon revealed himself to you, whereas Jake was outgoing and was comfortable even with people he’d just met. 

So why was the bearer of your affection Sunghoon and not Jake?

And why did Jake even care that you liked his friend over him in the first place?

It wasn’t like Jake liked you - he couldn’t like a girl that his best friend liked - so why did this at all matter to him? If anything, the fact that you liked Sunghoon back should’ve been something to rejoice over. It had been, up until now, and Jake couldn’t figure out why. He couldn’t figure out this weird sensation that had plagued him in the soccer field and followed him to the ice rink as he watched you watch Sunghoon with amazement.

Jake was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even notice when you detached your eyes from Sunghoon, who was talking to his coach, and tilted your head at him. “Jake?” 

The boy only let out a low hum, still too upset to look at you.

An amused grin made your lips quirk up. “Are you pouting because I said Sunghoon was cooler than you?”

Jake scoffed, turning his head away from you. “No.”

A pause. “So you don’t mind if I go on and on about how elegant and beautiful ice skating is, while running after a ball and kicking it is the basis of the stupidest sport in the world?”

Jake glared at you, but it only made you smile more. “It’s not stupid.”

Despite himself, his pretend angry facade broke apart at the sound of your airy giggles. Jake didn’t think his ears had ever been graced with such a pretty sound before - he slapped himself mentally as soon as that thought crossed his mind. 

His heart did jumps and spins more impressive than Sunghoon’s when you reached a hand out to ruffle his hair, shaking your head at his behavior. For once, he was glad that you turned back to Sunghoon so that you wouldn’t see the bright blush spreading all over his face.

For the next hour, Jake put his weird feelings to the side and watched his friend practice his routine for his upcoming competition. Even he had to admit that Sunghoon looked pretty cool doing what he loved.

You told him you found it all the more impressive because you’d never skated before, so it looked unachievable to you, and an idea immediately formed in Jake’s mind. As soon as Sunghoon’s practice was over, he rushed over to his friend and asked if the two of you could join him on the ice. Sunghoon turned to his coach, who simply shrugged.

“I trust you to look after them,” she said. “Just make sure to be out when the hockey team gets here.”

Before you knew it, Jake was helping you tie up your ice skates (the sight of which made you faint-hearted) and both boys helped you onto the ice rink, each holding onto one of your hands as you tried not to freak out at the feeling of your knees being so wobbly. Sunghoon demonstrated how to move around the ice, and soon enough, you’d gotten the hang of it - but you still made sure to keep Jake at an arm’s length so you could grab onto him every time you lost your balance. Jake stayed by your side, smiling fondly at how excited you looked and cheering you on every time you took a step of your own. Sunghoon, on the other hand, seemed to find it funny to watch from afar and point and laugh every time you stumbled.

After some time, Sunghoon announced he was feeling hungry and decided to go eat some snacks, leaving you and Jake alone in the rink. The wink Sunghoon threw your way when Jake wasn’t looking let you know what his true intentions were, and you couldn’t believe Jake’s best friend had just become your wingman.

“Feeling ready to skate around the rink?” Jake asked. His boyish grin was contagious, and you found yourself matching it even though you were still nervous about moving around too much.

“If you help me,” you answered tentatively, looking at him worriedly as you held out your hand for him to take. The softness of his gaze as he smiled down at you made you want to melt into a puddle on the floor.

“Of course,” he said, taking your hand in his warm one. Your fingers intertwined as if out of second nature and you thought you finally understood why people said their hands were meant to hold someone else’s.

Being friends with an ice skater for such a long time meant Jake had acquired some skill, too, which is why he could so easily show you how to turn or pick up speed. Whenever you lost your balance, he was always quick enough to make sure you didn’t actually fall, picking you up before your backside could touch the ice. He found your frightened expression every time you thought you would fall absolutely adorable, but your pout and slight frown whenever he teased you were somehow even cuter.

He only let go of your hand after some ten minutes (neither of you had even begun to question Sunghoon’s whereabouts by then) when he came to stand in front of you, a serious expression on his face.

“I think you’re ready, Y/N,” he declared solemnly.

“Ready for…?” you asked, scared of whatever he had in mind.

He leaned in slightly and the sudden proximity took you aback, but he didn’t seem to realize. A mischievous smirk broke through his handsome features. “A race,” he whispered, then skated to one edge of the rink and motioned for you to follow him. Reluctantly, you did.

“First to the other edge has to…” he thought for a second, gazing at the ceiling. You wanted to be mad at him for proposing a race when you’d literally just learned how to skate, but how could you when he looked so cute and giddy, searching for the loser’s penalty? “Buy the other ice cream!”

Your eyes were probably the image of tenderness as you looked at him. “Deal,” you said, wanting to sound as playful as him but voice coming out soft. Since when had you fallen so hard for him?

You held each other’s gazes for a couple more seconds before both turning in front of you, getting ready for your race. Jake counted down from three, and your skating wasn’t so bad at first - until you got too cocky for your own good, trying to go at a pace you clearly couldn’t handle. Before you knew it, your knees betrayed you and you found yourself tripping over, your butt making a loud thump sound as it came into contact with the ice.

On your way down, you’d shrieked Jake’s name, and he was at your side in the blink of an eye, holding your shoulder and looking at you worriedly. The pain was immediate, and for a few seconds, you couldn’t answer him and reassure him that you were fine.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked to race, God Y/N I’m so stupid I’m so sorry are you okay I didn’t want you to get hurt-”

“Jake,” you squeaked.

“Yeah?”

“I’m okay, calm down,” you said when the pain subsided, managing a smile. “I’ll just have a sore butt tomorrow.” He chuckled at the word ‘butt,’ but you didn’t have it in you to roll his eyes at his childishness.

“Are you sure you’re okay? There’s an infirmary here-”

“I’m sure, Jakey-poo,” you teased, making him lose the concerned expression as he bore an unimpressed one instead.

“I guess you are fine if you can think to call me that. Come on, up!” he said as he stood up, reaching his hands out for you to take. Just as he helped you up, Sunghoon came sprinting and stood at the entrance to the rink.

“Is everything okay? I heard a yell,” he said, slightly out-of-breath with half a biscuit in his mouth. Guess he really was eating this whole time.

You and Jake laughed and shook your head at him, and you reassured him that everything was fine. 

“Good, ‘cause the hockey team’s here and we have to go anyway.”

There was a bus that took Sunghoon directly from the ice rink to his house, but you and Jake had to go back to the school to catch the one you usually took, which meant you had a forty-minute journey in front of you. And yet, Jake’s company made those forty minutes feel like five, and you found yourself disappointed when the bus neared your stop.

“If you want, we can still go walk Kiwi and Layla,” he offered shyly a few minutes before your stop, as if he’d read your mind. 

“I’d love to.” You watched as his small smile bloomed into a wider one.

“I’m glad,” he chuckled, relieved. “I was scared you’d be tired of me after spending the whole afternoon together,” he admitted, looking down at his lap with a bashful expression on his face. It wasn’t often that Jake looked timid like this, but whenever he did, your heart tripled in size.

“I don’t think I could get tired of you.” You were too shy to look him in the eye while you said this, but in your peripheral, you saw his grin get impossibly wider and his eyebrows raise. He bumped your shoulder with his, making the both of you burst into giggles.

You were still smiling long after you’d come home from your walk.

—

Unfortunately for Jake, forcing you and Sunghoon to sit together for ninety minutes hadn’t resulted in the two of you confessing your undying love for the other and getting together - clearly, his plan hadn’t worked very well. But Jake, instead of coming up with another strategy, decided he should just basically do the same thing again and hope it went better this time. 

Bro night had been a tradition for the past three years that the boys only very rarely broke, in cases of illness, filial obligations or important competitions the following day. This wasn’t any one of those cases, but Jake decided bro night must be slightly sacrificed that night - for your and Sunghoon’s sake. Years down the line, he knew you’d thank him.

This was why he tricked you into thinking you had been invited to bro night (you’d heard a lot about it and considered it an honor to be included) when really, he made Jay promise not to show at the cinema so that you and Sunghoon could be alone. The two of them would make up an excuse about not being able to make it on time and show up later at the diner (“If you want to set them up, shouldn’t we also leave them alone after the movie?” Jay had asked Jake over the phone, and Jake had been unable to explain why he didn’t want you to spend the whole night alone with Sunghoon).

“They ditched us,” Sunghoon had said in lieu of a greeting when you found him at the entrance of the cinema. He turned his phone screen towards you, showing you their group chat - Jay had had some sort of meeting at his school that had run late and Jake had to go to the vet suddenly because Layla kept making weird noises.

“Oh no, I hope she’ll be okay,” you said, voice laced with genuine worry.

Sunghoon just sighed. “I’m sure she will.” He knew what his friends were up to - it almost never happened that one of them was unable to make it to bro night, so two at once? They were clearly lying. He would make sure to tell Jake how worried sick you were about his dog’s fake illness later on just so his friend would feel extra guilty.

You had been looking forward to hanging out with Jake and his friends all day, so you were disappointed to know he wouldn’t make it until later. It wasn’t much comfort that the movie they had picked, some recent Marvel release, was one you were not at all interested in, and you couldn’t even obsess over Jake’s presence next to you instead of the movie because he wasn’t there. You’d have to sit with awkward, quiet Sunghoon for God knows how long - at least the cinema wasn’t much of a talking place. 

You declined his kind offer of sharing a big popcorn tub - you didn’t want to risk a cliché reaching-for-popcorn-at-the-same-time moment with Sunghoon, although you’d daydreamed and giggled about it happening with Jake earlier that day. Instead, you sipped grumpily on your Cherry Coke, watching the trailers for upcoming movies and discussing them with Sunghoon. (“I’m so excited for the Barbie movie,” he’d surprised you by saying. Maybe he wasn’t so bad.)

As the lights dimmed, announcing the imminent start of the movie, Sunghoon whispered something that completely changed your mind about Marvel. “It’s so stupid that Jake isn’t here, seriously. He’s been going on and on about going to see this movie since the trailer came out.” Suddenly, you’d never felt the need to pay attention to something more than this. 

Well, in your humble opinion, the film wasn’t anything to write home about. It was a lot of loud action scenes with some funny one-liners that, okay, you chuckled at. And the actors were hot. You could sort of see why Jake would enjoy Marvel movies, although you yourself liked films with more social commentary, such as Mean Girls or Bee Movie. You’d need to make Jake watch Twilight one of these days - you were sure he’d like the soundtrack, if nothing else.

At least, you and Sunghoon have something to talk about during your short walk to the diner. As you enter the restaurant, a familiar voice calling out your name catches you off-guard.

“Chaewon? I thought you didn’t work on Friday nights!” you exclaimed, letting your friend bring you into a hug. You gave her a once-over - she always looked so pretty in her work uniform, white t-shirt dress draping her body perfectly, apron cinching at her waist, and short pigtails under her 50’s style diner hat. If the blush spreading on Sunghoon’s cheeks at her sudden appearance was anything to go by, his thoughts might not have been too far from yours.

She pouted, taking your hands in hers and swaying them between the two of you. “I usually don’t, but Yunjin asked me to trade shifts and she always says yes when I ask her, so I felt bad saying no.” You nodded and she turned to Sunghoon.

“Hi, Sunghoon!”

“H-hi, Chaewon.”

“Where’s Jay and Jake?” she asked, looking behind the two of you. You’d told the group chat about your evening plans and a lot of freaking out had taken place. 

“Should be here any minute,” you sighed, and when she looked at you questioningly, you told her you’d explain later.

She sat you at a four-person booth by the window and brought you drinks (“On the house,” she’d said with a wink, but you weren’t sure this had been allowed by any of her superiors) for you to sip on while you waited for the others. Every time she was free, she came over to your table and gossiped about the customers. You did not miss the way Sunghoon’s face lit up whenever she approached you.

Jake and Jay see you before you see them. Jay, the only one with a driver’s license out of the three, had picked Jake up, and he was parking his car when Jake gasped loudly, making Jay jump. “I’m trying to park, man, can you be calm?”

“What’s she doing here?” Jake exclaimed, completely ignoring his friend.

Jay followed Jake’s gaze, but he wasn’t sure what his friend was going on about. All he saw was you, whom he recognized from pictures only, Sunghoon, and a waitress that seemed overly-friendly. “Who?” he asked.

“Chaewon,” Jake hissed, like her name was a curse. “She’s ruining our plan!”

Jay sighed. “First of all, this is your plan. Second of all, it was ruined from the beginning. And by that, I mean that your plan sucks, Jake.”

Jake clicked his teeth. “Whatever. Let’s just go,” he said, getting out of the car and heading straight for you. He made sure to give Chaewon a pointed look as he sat next to you in the booth, but she just seemed happy that more people had arrived. 

You bumped your knee into his to get his attention. “Hi,” you said with a smile.

He looked at you dumbly for a few seconds before Jay cleared his throat awkwardly. “Hi. This is Jay,” he said, tilting his head towards the boy but not taking his eyes off of you. You and Jay exchanged hey’s before Chaewon took your order, quickly giving it to the kitchen and scanning the room to make sure every table had what they needed, then headed back to your table. 

“Is Layla okay?” you asked Jake, worry making your brows furrow.

“Huh?” The sudden mention of his dog took him aback. Why wouldn’t she be okay?

“Layla?” you repeated, tilting your head. “Is she okay? You said you had to go to the vet.”

His eyes widened as he remembered his lie from earlier, and he started nodding frantically. “Oh yeah, yeah, she’s fine, we panicked over nothing,” he said with a nervous giggle. Jake was the worst liar Jay and Sunghoon had ever seen, but you were none the wiser.

“What about you, Jay? How was your school thing?” Sunghoon asked, turning to his friend with a glare and making him choke on his Coke.

“Oh, that was fine too, I guess,” Jay mumbled.

As expected, Jake and Chaewon were experts at leading the conversation, and Jay himself was pretty talkative. They all bounced off of each other naturally, and even Sunghoon knew how to throw in witty remarks now and there. You also participated, but you were more than happy just listening to them and laughing along. You tried not to think too much about how your knee would bump into Jake’s once in a while, or how he seemed to look at you every time he made a joke.

At some point, Chaewon had rushed over to your table, looking right at you with wide eyes and beaming. “Oh my God Oh my God Oh my God, Y/N, hat guy is here!” 

You instantly mirrored her expression. “Where where where?” you asked, lifting your body up to scan around the restaurant.

“Over there in the corner, but be discreet!”

You were not at all discreet as your eyes found said hat guy, noting with satisfaction that he was characteristically hatless, and you burst into laughter. “I can’t believe he’s here!”

“Right? Probably has the munchies or something,” Chaewon said, laughing along.

You only noticed then the perplexed looks all three boys were sending your way. “Who the heck is hat guy?” Jake asked, which only made you and Chaewon laugh harder.

“You wouldn’t get it,” she replied airily, waving Jake off as she made her way to a customer who had called for her. 

The boys turned to you and you shrunk in your seat at their attention. “Just a guy the girls and I find funny,” you explained, shrugging and glancing quickly at Sunghoon. If only he knew about all the times you and the girls had gossiped about him, even though he’d done nothing of importance.

When her shift was over, the first thing Chaewon did was take off her apron, then dragged you to the bathroom, where she drilled you for details about your cinema “date” with Sunghoon. 

“It was not a date, it just ended up being the two of us because the others couldn’t make it,” you insisted, but she wasn’t having it. “There’s nothing to say anyway. We got there, talked a bit, watched the movie, walked here, and that’s it.”

Chaewon sighed, shaking her head as she reapplied her lip gloss. A small smile made its way onto your lips. “I think he’s into someone else anyway.” 

You noticed how her hand faltered for a split second. “Oh yeah? Who?” she asked, trying to appear nonchalant, but you knew your friend too well. 

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” 

Unbeknownst to either of you, the discussion between the boys back at the table was not too different from yours.

“Bro, I’m literally going to kill you,” Sunghoon whisper-yelled even though you were way out of earshot already. “Do you know how awkward that was?”

“Just so you know, I had nothing to do with this,” Jay said. “I told him that putting two socially constipated idiots like you wouldn’t end well, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“Y/N’s not an idiot!” Jake immediately reacted.

“And I am?!” Sunghoon retorted.

Jay just rolled his eyes.

“You are, because this is the second time you’re alone together with the girl you like and you can barely make conversation with her.”

“For the last time, I don’t like her, I just called her cute once in freshman year-”

“Same thing!”

“Jake, I don’t know how many times I can tell you the same thing before you get it. I’ve been around Y/N enough to know I don’t like her like that, okay? We’ve had two classes where we sat together for a whole semester, and we’ve worked with other people in group projects. Not to mention, you’ve made me sit through one of your practices with her. She’s nice. She sends me the homework when I miss class. She even laughs at my jokes sometimes. And her dog is super cute. I’m sure we’d be better friends if we both didn’t have crippling shyness, but I don’t like her like that. I just don’t.”

“But how?!”

“What do you mean how? This sorta thing doesn’t have any sort of reasonable answer, you just do or you don’t. I don’t. Clearly, you do.”

Jake heard the last part of Sunghoon’s words, and promptly decided to ignore them. He had to understand this first - he’d figure out his feelings later. “This whole time, I thought you were just downplaying your feelings, ‘cause you’re an awkward asshole who doesn’t do emotions,” he said, eyes tightly shut and holding his head, the confusion making his brain hurt.

“Okay, ouch. But no, I wasn’t. I really don’t know what got into your head.”

“I know what got into his head,” Jay said. Both of his friends looked at him questioningly, so he went on. “When Sunghoon mentioned Y/N, you probably thought she was super cute too, Jake. But because of bro code and whatnot, you didn’t wanna show any interest. And then as you saw her around more, you probably liked her more, but you thought Sunghoon liked her, so you sort of gave him your crush on her instead of dealing with it. You lived vicariously through him, basically. Except you’re an idiot because he doesn’t even like her like that, so you could’ve shot your shot a long time ago already. I don’t know why you didn’t just listen to him, to be honest,” Jay finished, shrugging.

“You also thought he liked her!” Jake retorted.

“That’s besides the point. The point is that you’re stupid.”

“But- but, what about all those times you talked about her? I didn’t make those up!” 

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “The most I ever said about her was something like, Y/N and I both forgot our textbook today, or Y/N brought cookies for the class because it’s her birthday. You were always the one to notice her everywhere and go, There’s your crush, or something.”

Jake sighed, defeated. He could admit Sunghoon was right about something, and he was wrong - but he hated that Jay was also right. Had he really managed to bury his feelings for you all these years just for what he thought was Sunghoon’s sake? Sure, he was a loyal friend, but that felt a little much.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, recoiling from his friends’ expectant gazes and taking a sad bite of his cheeseburger. “It’s not like she likes me back, or anything.” 

He watched in confusion as Sunghoon let out a loud groan, screwing his eyes shut and taking his head in his hands as if it hurt. “This is so frustrating, I’m going to kill myself.”

Jake turned to Jay for some sort of explanation to their friend’s sudden suicidal thoughts, but Jay just looked back at Jake with disgust. “When did you become so dumb? I swear you didn’t use to be like this,” he said, shaking his head in disappointment.

Jake’s eyes flickered between his two friends in utter dismay. “What?”

“Jake,” Jay started. “Do you really, honestly, genuinely think Y/N doesn’t like you?”

The boy leaned back in his seat with a pout. “Yeah,” he mumbled.

Sunghoon’s head whipped up at this. Jake gulped at the intense glare his friend fixed him with - he’d never looked so angry with him, and it made Jake wonder what on Earth he could have said or done that made Sunghoon so upset. “Why?” he asked simply, but the frustration was evident in his voice.

Your diary popped up in Jake’s head. What he had read was clear. Of course, the entry dated from over a month ago now, but why would your feelings have changed since then? Jake sighs deeply, getting ready to reveal to his friends what he’d seen, but then he sees you and Chaewon emerging from the bathroom. “They’re coming back,” he mumbled.

It was Sunghoon and Jay’s turn to sigh. “Just pay attention to her, Jake, okay?” Jay instructed, giving his friend an intent look.

“I already do,” Jake replied, frowning.

“No, really pay attention to her. Then use your pea-sized brain for once in your life, and maybe you’ll realize something.”

A strongly-worded reply was on the tip of Jake’s tongue, but all thoughts of violence and murdering his friend were replaced by images of rainbows and pretty flowers when you smiled at him. He felt like the biggest of idiots for liking you so much and only realizing it now.

“Hi,” he said dumbly as you found your seat next to him again, then stole a french fry from you even though he had many left himself. When you gasped at his audacity, he just giggled.

“Hey!” you exclaimed in protest before stealing a fry back. 

If you hadn’t been so caught up in your little world, you’d have noticed the knowing look your three friends exchanged and their simultaneous eye roll. 

—

The following Monday, you decided to have your tutoring session at your house instead of Jake’s. His mom was away at a convention for the week, so you’d have to take the bus anyway - since your house was two stops earlier, you offered to switch it up for once. Jake had never actually been inside your house and was curious to see what it was like, so he eagerly agreed. 

Kiwi was happy to see him and followed the two of you around the house as you gave Jake a quick tour before going up to your room. When you reached the top landing, you realized that Kiwi was still at the bottom of the stairs and was looking up at you expectantly. “Is she not allowed upstairs?” Jake asked.

“Usually not, but I let her come up when my mom’s not here. Come on Kiwi! It’s okay!”

Kiwi didn’t need to be told twice - she trudged her little body up the stairs, and you couldn’t help but giggle at her adorableness. “She’s so cute,” you cooed, looking at your dog with a huge smile on your face.

“She really is,” Jake agreed, but when you turned your head to face him, he wasn’t looking at Kiwi - he was looking straight at you, a softness in his eyes that made your stomach turn. He snapped out of it when he noticed your round, surprised eyes, and cleared his throat. “So, where’s your room?” he asked, looking around the hallway and avoiding your gaze.

“Over there,” you replied, fighting the smile that tried to make its way to your lips as you headed towards your room, Jake and Kiwi following right behind. 

You told Jake to wait for a second as you went to get a second chair. When you came back, he was standing in front of your shelves, upper body slightly bent forwards to observe all the decorations and framed pictures closer. You placed the chair next to your desk then joined him, answering all the questions he had about the items on your shelves. Who’s this? When was this? Where did you get this? In his defense, you really did have a lot of things - you were trying to get rid of your hoarding habits, but you got attached to every small thing that held some sort of significance. You went to sit at the edge of your bed and just watched him, his eyes glinting with curiosity.

It reminded you of the first time you’d been to his house, how upset he’d seemed when you talked about his baby pictures and how you hadn’t wanted to risk looking at all the stuff in his room. You were also curious about things like that, and you wondered once again what had bothered him so much. The question was burning your tongue - although you were nervous to ask it, not wanting to upset Jake once more, you now knew him well enough to know he wasn’t the type to stay mad for long. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Jake replied, fingers toying with your favorite Littlest Pet Shop figurine you had kept from when you were eight.

“Why didn’t you want me to look at your baby photos that one time?”

Jake paused at your words. He stood up straight and set the figurine back on the shelf. He glanced at you before walking over to your bed and taking a seat next to you, leaning back on his palms while you rested your hands underneath your thighs. 

“You probably noticed I don’t mention my dad, right? Or the fact that he’s never home?” 

You nodded in response. You had noticed it, but you’d never brought the topic up in case it might be sensitive. Jake sighed. “He passed away when I was six.”

You turned your head towards him. To your surprise, his face remained expressionless - you couldn’t detect any sort of sadness or anger in his features, as if he was just reciting a fact. His uncharacteristic numbness upset you even more than any tears could have. 

He met your gaze and gave you a small smile. “I was so young that I only have very vague memories of him, like playing soccer together in the backyard or a trip to the beach with my parents and my brother. I only remember his face and his voice from the photos and videos my mom has shown me.” He sighed again, shifting forwards and resting his hands in his lap, fiddling with his fingers. “So when I see these pictures, they sort of just remind me of what I’ve lost? I really don’t like lingering on them. I sort of just ignore them every time I walk up or down the stairs.”

“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have mentioned them if I’d known-”

Jake is quick to shake his head. “No, no, don’t be sorry. You couldn’t have guessed.” You want to comfort Jake in some way, thank him for telling you something so personal, but you’re not sure what words to use - so, instead, you take one of his hands in yours and bring it to your lap, then cover it with your other one. Your eyes meet for a second - he looks slightly taken aback at first, but then, his eyes drift down to your joined hands, and a small blush spreads on his cheeks.

“I’m- I’m okay, really. Like I said, it happened so long ago that I’m used to not having a dad now. It almost feels like it’s always been that way, which makes it even weirder to think it wasn’t. It’s just… It feels weird to miss someone I barely remember so much, you know?”

You nodded and let out a low hum. “I do know.” Jake tilted his head at you, silently asking you to go on. “It’s different, but I get that feeling of missing something you barely remember. I have these blurry memories of my parents being happy together and the three of us being a happy family, and then all of a sudden it’s hearing arguments from my room and my dad moving out, and they’re asking me, Do you wanna live with mom or dad?”

You watched as Jake moved his hand slightly, intertwining your fingers together and squeezing your hand. “I was older than you were when they divorced, so I guess I have more memories to hold onto, but they hurt more than anything.” You let out a deep sigh. “My dad cheated, so it’s not like I wished my mom had stayed with him, but I was too young to understand what was happening. I just wanted my parents together again.” 

When you lifted your head to look at him, he met your gaze, and his eyes were so soft yet so intense, like he was seeing right into you. Then he chuckled. “Do you ever get jealous of other people’s parents?” he asks, a shy smile playing on his lips.

“All the time,” you admitted with a chuckle, relieved to find out you weren’t the only one. “Yena has been blessed with these like, practically perfect parents that are still in love after twenty years, never argue and have a healthy relationship with all of their kids. I’m so in awe every time I see them.”

“Sunghoon’s parents are like that. I feel terrible, but every time they come to cheer him on at his competitions, I just get so jealous, wishing I also had three people coming to see my games and not just two. And I always feel so silly for feeling that way.”

“You’re not silly for that, Jake,” you said, and the honesty in your voice seemed to take him aback slightly. A grin spread on your lips. “You may be silly for other things, but not for that,” you teased, making him chuckle. “I can be your third person, if you want,” you said softly, lightly bumping your shoulder against his.

His eyes seemed to light up at your words, and your smile couldn’t help but get wider at his reaction - that was, until he raised an eyebrow, almost defiantly. “Yeah? I thought you found soccer boring,” he said with a playful smirk.

“It’s not boring if you’re the one playing,” you replied. A small noise of surprise escaped his throat before he could help it, not expecting you to be so forward, and you both burst into giggles. 

He cleared his throat when you both calmed down and stood up straighter, trying to put on a cool front. “Of course it isn’t.” He turned his head to look out the window, and the sight of the sunlight perfectly hitting his features and turning his dark brown eyes a hazel color almost took your breath away. “It’s really nice out,” he suddenly said. He turned back to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “How about we ditch the tutoring for today and go out?”

His eyes drifted down to your lips, watching as a smile tugged at the corners of your own. “I’m in.”

That was how you found yourselves sitting at a bench in the park close to your house, eating ice cream and watching Kiwi and Layla play together. You tried each other’s ice cream, and you regretted your choice of simple vanilla and strawberry as soon as Jake’s mango ice cream touched your tongue. Your eyes widened at the amazing taste - it felt like you had bit into an actual mango. 

“Good, right?” Jake asked, chuckling at your reaction.

“What the heck, yours is so much better than mine,” you mumbled, pouting at the ice cream in your cup like it had personally hurt you.

Jake thought for a second, looking back and forth between your upset expression and his own cup. “Wanna switch?”

Your heart was screaming yes, but your brain was screaming no. You tried your best to appear genuine when you smiled at him. “No, don’t worry about it. I still like mine.” You looked at him as you scooped another spoonful into your mouth as if to prove to him you were happy with your choice, even going so far as to hum in delight.

Jake just chuckled and shook his head at you, taking your cup and giving you his anyway. You were about to protest until he started eating your ice cream, imitating your previous hum. You quietly accepted the exchange, smiling as you tasted the mango ice cream again and trying to ignore the fact that Jake hadn’t switched the spoons with the cups, so you were using his and he was using yours. 

As you ate in silence, occasionally chuckling at your dogs’ antics, Jake stole some glances at you. He wasn’t sure why you looked so much prettier today than all the times he’d seen you before. Or maybe you were just as pretty as you’d always been, and he was just finally letting himself admit it. 

He may have had many friends, but there weren’t many people Jake was truly himself around. He always felt the need to be this friendly, outgoing guy that made it seem like everything was going well in his life, but with you, he felt like it was okay to stop pretending. He felt like it was okay to ask for help, like it was okay to reveal the darker parts of his life.

Now that Jay and Sunghoon had practically forced him to see the truth, Jake didn’t know what to do about his feelings for you. He finally understood why he always looked forward to your tutoring sessions, why he was so excited whenever he walked past you in the hallways, and why he was so bothered about you and Sunghoon getting along.

Sunghoon. Because even if Jake now knew that he liked you, he also knew that you liked someone else. And what was the point of letting himself fall for you even more when there was no happy ending in sight for him? He’d only get hurt in the end.

Just as the thought hit him, you turned to look at him and meet his gaze, a soft smile on your lips. Every time you smiled at him like that, Jake felt like he was watching a movie. Everything happened in slow-motion, with flowers falling around you and violins playing in the background. Jake almost felt sick, knowing he was only the second lead in your romance movie. He was the stupid werewolf and Sunghoon was the vampire that glistened in the sun and got the girl. (You had convinced him to watch Twilight, saying it was a mandatory watch to understand who you were as a person. Of course, Jake had streamed it that same night. The soundtrack was surprisingly good.)

Your voice snapped him out of his downward-spiraling thoughts. “You know, I almost got scared that Sunghoon would appear out of thin air and start hanging out with us.”

Jake tried not to sneer at the mention of his best-friend-turned-number-one-nemesis. “Why? Wouldn’t you like that?” he mumbled, clearly doing a poor job of seeming unaffected.

You frowned, then lowered your head, focusing your gaze on your almost-finished ice cream. “No, I’d rather if it was just the two of us.” Jake’s eyes widened, unsure if he’d heard that correctly or not. But before he could say anything in response, you spoke again. “It’s just, he was there when I came to watch your practice and when I thought we were all going to see a movie together, it was just him and me. You would’ve liked that movie, by the way,” you said, looking up at Jake with a smile.

Jake’s heart swelled. He wasn’t sure what what you were saying all meant, but unconsciously, his lips mirrored yours and he smiled back at you. Until he remembered you didn’t like him, and his smile fell immediately. Obviously, you had no idea what he was thinking, so his sudden stony expression sent alarms ringing through your head.

“It’s not that I don’t like him, or anything,” you said, panicked, and Jake had to keep himself from scoffing, “it’s just that- you know. It’s nice to hang out with you outside of tutoring sessions,” you finished, mumbling. 

Jake had no idea what you were saying, so he stayed quiet, watching as Kiwi and Layla ran around in circles. You liked Sunghoon, so why would you rather hang out with Jake and not him? You weren’t making any sense. 

You, on the other hand, were not liking Jake’s uncharacteristic silence. In hopes of getting his attention, you crossed one leg over the other, shifting on the bench to face him. “Plus, don’t you think he and Chaewon really hit it off the other night? I think that was the most I’ve ever heard him talk,” you said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. To your dismay, it didn’t work. You didn’t know whether he was sulking or genuinely upset - all you knew was you desperately wanted to see a smile on his pretty face again.

“Jakey?” you called out, and your voice sounded so small it hurt his heart. He hummed in response, only glancing at you for a fraction of a second. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” he replied, scooping the last of the ice cream in his mouth. As he tasted the strawberry and vanilla flavors, he couldn’t believe he had given his precious mango ice cream up all for a girl who didn’t even like him back. What a fool.

“I don’t know, you’re all- weird, all of a sudden, for lack of a better word.” You searched for some sort of an answer in his eyes, but he supplied you with none. 

Jake sighed deeply. He could feel the ugly mix of emotions in his belly turning into anger - anger at what exactly, he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to lay it on you. “It’s just the heat, it’s making me tired,” he said. Sure, it was warm for a May afternoon, but it wasn’t that hot. But you didn’t want to push it.

“Should we go home?“ you offered, and the worry in your voice made him feel even worse. He just couldn’t understand why you were being so nice to him. He knew you probably just thought you were looking after a friend, but he'd rather you not care about his well-being and leave him be. He didn’t need one more reason to like you - he already had plenty of those. 

He nodded, mustering as convincing a smile as he could. “Sure.” 

The walk home was much quieter than usual. You could feel that Jake was keeping something to himself, and it was killing you; but whatever it was, you wanted him to tell you when he felt ready and not feel forced to. Your hand was aching, desperate to reach out and grab his as you had done before, but you were afraid that would only push him away even further. So you stayed silent most of the time, only commenting on the things around you or speaking a thought out loud when you thought it might make Jake smile. Every time his lips curled up, even ever so slightly, your heart swelled with relief.

Unbeknownst to you, Jake was making up his mind. He knew he needed time away from you to gather his feelings before he could see you as a friend again. 

When you reached your house, Jake waited outside with the dogs as you grabbed his bag he’d left upstairs. You hugged goodbye as always, but this one was different - it lasted a few seconds longer than usual, and you could swear Jake held you tighter than he normally would. It felt like he was saying goodbye for more than just a couple days.

You didn’t understand why it made your heart ache so much.

—

The next day, when you walked past Jake and Sunghoon in the hallway, Jake barely glanced at you and only tilted his head in your general direction instead of his usual wide grin and wave. You were so shocked by his sudden snubbing that you halted in your steps right away, looking behind you at his retreating figure. You locked eyes with Sunghoon, who seemed just as confused as you felt. He shrugged at you before returning to his friend and nudging his arm.

On Wednesday morning, you got a text from Jake that he couldn’t make it to your tutoring session that afternoon because of an extra soccer practice to prepare for their game that weekend, something he had never mentioned before.

Thursday and Friday weren’t very different, and your heart became heavier with every time you walked past each other and he acted like you weren’t even there. You desperately wanted to know what you’d done wrong, why he’d started to reply in one-word sentences instead of his usual voice messages and tons of emojis, but no matter how much you cogitated, you couldn’t figure it out. Even when you asked him how his game had gone, a dry Good stared back at you from your phone screen.

That Saturday, your girlfriends came over. Yena had brought beads and strings to make accessories out of, and the mere sight of them had brought fond memories back to all four of you - during your first sleepover in freshman year, this was the exact activity that had kept you occupied for hours. 

You got started on them immediately, each finding a comfortable spot in your room as soft music played in the background. You lay on your bed while Chaewon and Yena took over the floor and Hyewon sat at your desk.

“I’m gonna make one of those phone accessories,” Yena said excitedly, reaching for the biggest, most colorful beads.

“I’m gonna make couple bracelets for Jaemin and I,” Hyewon said somewhat shyly but beaming. Yena and Chaewon groaned at her words, but they gave you an idea.

“You guys are vomit-inducing,” Yena replied, and if you didn’t know your friend any better, just going off the tone of her voice, you’d have thought she was being serious. Hyewon just rolled her eyes, used to this daily slander she received simply for being in a relationship.

“I’ll make something for my little sister,” Chaewon butted in, and you and Yena simultaneously ‘aww’ed. 

“So it’s aww when Chaewon does it for her sister, and it’s vomit-inducing when I do it for my boyfriend?” Hyewon exclaimed, appalled.

“Little sisters are cute. Boyfriends are gross,” Yena replied matter-of-factly, making you giggle.

“Whatever. You guys are just jealous that you’re dying alone and I’m not. What are you making, Y/N?” she asked before Yena could retort again. The two exchanged a glare as you thought over your answer.

“I’m not saying,” you replied with a giggle. 

“She’s making one for Jake, that evil wench,” Chaewon immediately said, making your eyes widen. Yena gasped dramatically while Hyewon smiled at you.

“How did you know?” you asked Chaewon.

“Just your face. You’re so obvious,” she snickered. 

“You’re a traitor, Y/N!” Yena exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at you, and you hid your face in your hands, muttering an apology. “Wasting time and energy on a boy.”

“Don’t listen to her, Y/N. Whatever it is you make, he’ll be super happy you thought of him. Then he’ll finally ask you out and you’ll live happily ever after, just like me and Jaemin,” Hyewon said with a serene smile on her face. Chaewon and Yena exchanged a look, then faked a gagging sound. “So bitter,” Hyewon muttered, shaking her head at your friends.

“I’m not sure about that,” you sighed. “I just want to be friends again. He’s been ignoring me all week.”

All three snapped their heads up at you. “He’s been ignoring you?” Yena echoed, and you meekly nodded. “Give me his phone number. No, give me his address. I’m going there right now,” she said, already sitting up.

“Gosh, Yena, it’s fine,” you said, gesturing at her to sit back down, laughing at your friend’s seriousness. “I’ll see him on Monday anyway, I can just see how he behaves then.”

Yena didn’t look convinced, but she yielded anyway. “If he hurts you, I swear I’ll give him a stern talking to. And a broken nose.” You laughed as you thanked your friend. 

Hyewon asked for more details about this Jake situation, so you filled your friends in about his mysterious behavior that week. Chaewon had been the only one to see it firsthand, when you’d walked to a class together and Jake had walked past you without saying anything. You told them about his sparse answers to your texts, his lack of response to the TikToks you sent him. He wasn’t even reacting to your BeReals anymore. It was just such a complete switch-up in attitude that you had no idea what to make of it. They tried to come up with reasons for it, but it really didn’t make much sense. It just felt like he suddenly decided to hate you - or maybe you had been interpreting everything wrong, and the two of you had never been friends in the first place. 

“This is so confusing,” Chaewon suddenly said, seeming lost in thought. “I thought for sure that he liked you.”

“Liked… me?” you echoed.

“Yeah. Just the way he was when we were at the diner. He kept looking at you and was always smiling and blushing whenever you talked to him. Also the way Jay and Sunghoon were behaving. Boys are so obvious when their friend likes someone, it’s like they’re trying to fumble it for him. And I mean, anyone with functioning eyes can see that you like him too, so I don’t know why he’s doing this all of a sudden.”

Yena sighed. “Boys are stupid.”

“That, they are,” you agreed, sighing as well and returning your attention to your craft. Maybe a simple gift like this wouldn’t fix what was going on between you and Jake, but you had to at least try. You couldn’t let go of your friendship so easily.

Even though it seemed as though he could.

Nothing changed the next week. On Monday, you woke up to a text that pulled your heart down into your stomach.

jakey-poo i think we should stop tutoring each other for now

For an hour as you ate breakfast and got ready for school, you ruminated over your answer, only to ask him a simple why? in the end.

jakey-poo i’m to busy w soccer practice and other stuff we can start again when exams are near

you oh okay

You felt pathetic, but you had no idea what to say. You couldn’t force him into this, and you definitely couldn’t show up at his house and demand a better explanation. If you were Yena or Chaewon, maybe you could - but you weren’t. You couldn’t even bring yourself to ask him if the two of you could still hang out outside of that, so scared you were for his inevitable rejection.

During the week, you tried to find a time when you could give him your small handmade gift, but Jake wasn’t even looking you in the eyes anymore. The only time you made eye contact with him over those five days was on Wednesday at lunch - as you walked into the cafeteria, you scanned the whole room, unconsciously searching for him. When you did, he was already looking at you - he was close enough for you to see the slight frown in his eyebrows, the lack of the usual glint in his eyes. But as soon as he’d seen you’d found him, he turned away. You only looked away when Chaewon called out your name.

In the few classes you had together, he always slipped away before you could get to him. Him walking past you like he couldn’t even see you broke your heart a little bit more every time, and by Friday, you had completely given up. Your friendship with Jake was over, and you had no idea why, no idea who or what to blame.

Monday and Wednesday afternoons felt empty now that you had gotten used to spending them with him, and you couldn’t even walk Kiwi without missing him. He seemed to miss Jake and Layla too - he’d sometimes tilt his head at you as if asking where your new friends were, and when you got to the park, he’d gloomily stick to you instead of running around like he usually would, especially when Layla was there.

The worst part was at night, when your thoughts kept you up. You’d reread your and Jake’s text conversations, wondering what went so wrong so quickly, warm tears spilling from your eyes out of sadness and tiredness. On those nights, you’d sneak Kiwi up to your room and let him cuddle up to you in your bed. You’d comfort each other that way.

You had no idea that a couple kilometers away, Jake lay in bed sleepless as well, Layla at the edge of his bed and whining in her sleep. You had no idea that missing you had carved a deep hole in his chest.

—

Enough was enough.

It had been days since Layla had last seen Kiwi, and to a young pup like her, that felt like eternity. Lately, Jake hadn’t seemed happy to go on walks with her like he used to, and he barely had any energy to play with her. She also hadn’t seen you in days, and she wondered if that had anything to do with Jake’s recent despondency. 

But thankfully, Layla was a smart girl, so she knew exactly what to do to fix this dire situation. On Friday, she waited for Jake to come back from soccer practice and take her on a walk. As soon as they reached the sidewalk outside of their house, she pulled on her leash in the opposite direction of their usual route. Jake tried pulling her the other way, but she wouldn’t budge.

“We’re going that way, Layla,” Jake said, amused by his dog’s sudden stubbornness. Layla barked back. “Come on!” 

She was really not moving. “We never go that way,” Jake said, sighing. “That way’s the-”

That’s when he realized. Layla wanted to go to the park you went to with Kiwi. “But what if we ran into them?” Jake asked. 

Layla barked again. She wanted to say, That’s exactly why I want to go there, but of course Jake didn’t understand. He sighed again and obliged, letting Layla lead the way. She had a good feeling that she’d finally see her friends again today. 

Jake’s heart started beating faster with every step he took, knowing that you might be out right now, too. When he’d seen you at school, you’d seemed as sad as he was, and he felt terrible for perhaps being the reason behind it - but he didn’t know what else to do. He could either spare your feelings or his. If this was hurting you, he knew you’d move on quickly enough anyway - and when he came to terms with being just friends with you, he’d come back, and everything would be perfect like it used to be. Foolproof plan.

If there was one thing Jake had learned from the tutoring sessions with you, it was that the weather always reflected the protagonist’s inner thoughts. If they were upset, it would be gray and rainy - if they were happy, it would be warm and sunny. Jake glared at the sun, just another reminder that he wasn’t the main character in this story. If he was, it would be thundering and lightning would be striking.

As if his life was a joke, two minutes after Jake and Layla had walked into the park, he saw you. At least you were facing the other direction, so you couldn’t see him, and he could redirect his route to avoid you. But he let himself indulge in the moment for a few seconds. You had laid out a picnic blanket for you and Kiwi and rested on your stomach with your elbows propping you up, reading a book. Kiwi slept peacefully next to you - this dog was the furthest thing from a guard dog Jake had ever seen. You kicked your feet up in the air, flip flops discarded to the side of the blanket. Jake was happy to see you like this, enjoying the warmth of this sunny May afternoon. 

He was about to walk away, but a sudden movement caught his eye. Two school kids started running to you, and before you could even register their presence, one of them snatched your flip flops and they both sprinted away, shrieking with laughter like two little devils. Where the hell were their parents?!

Without thinking, Jake started running after them, and so did Kiwi and Layla. 

“Hey! Come back here!” Jake yelled, hoping in vain that these kids would listen to someone older than them. Kiwi did his best, but his tiny legs didn’t allow for such a chase - Layla, barking loudly at the thieves, was the first to reach them, and she managed to scare them so much, they tripped over their feet. But unlike them, she was well-behaved, so she sat once her job was done and waited for Jake to arrive. 

“What are you two doing? You can’t just steal other people’s things!” he admonished, holding onto his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

Both kids were already teary-eyed. “We just wanted to play a prank, we’re sorry!” one of them quickly said, voice shaky.

“It’s not to me you should apologize, but to her,” Jake said, turning around to point in your direction. That’s when he noticed you sitting on your knees, hands covering your face as your shoulders trembled. “You made her cry!” Jake exclaimed, tone much angrier than seconds prior. “Let’s go,” he said, grabbing the kids by their shoulders and forcing them to keep up with his quick steps.

You didn’t notice their presence in front of you until Jake prompted them. At the sound of the all too familiar voice, you whipped your head up. Jake swore he heard his heart breaking when he saw your red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. You barely heard the kids’ apology, so amazed you were at suddenly seeing Jake.

“We’re sorry for stealing your flip-flops and making you cry,” the first one said.

“Sorry,” repeated the other one, handing you your shoes.

“Oh, right. Thanks, just don’t do it again,” you replied, sniffing as you took back your shoes.

“We won’t!” they replied in unison before running away once more.

Jake stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, unsure what to say. He watched you stare at your flip flops like you’d never seen them before in your life. “You’re not going to thank me for catching those delinquents?” he asked after a small while, chuckling slightly.

This made you look up at him. He gulped as your eyes met. Then, you burst into sobs again, and Jake started panicking. He crouched down to your level, first holding you by the shoulders then forcing your head out of your hands so he could wipe away your tears with the pads of his thumbs.

“No no no, why are you crying, Y/N?” he asked softly, pulling you into a hug.

You continued crying into his shoulder, ignoring Kiwi and Layla’s confused stares. “You- you- I haven’t seen you in ages!” you exclaimed.

Jake sighed. He didn’t understand why you were crying like this for him, all he knew was that he’d never felt so awful. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered into your hair, pulling your shaking body closer to him. “I’m sorry.”

You leaned back to glare at Jake, your bottom lip jutting out in discontent. “Do you even know how much I missed you?”

Jake held your head in his hands like it was the most precious thing in the world. Mouth agape in surprise, he looked at you with sad eyes. “You… you did?”

Your eyebrows creased. “Of course I did!” Another sob rippled through your body, and Jake took you back in his arms, wrapping them around your shoulders and resting his cheek against your hair. 

“I missed you too.”

“Then why did you do this?” you asked, voice breaking.

“Because I didn’t want to get hurt,” Jake whispered back. “But I didn’t think I’d hurt you. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You leaned back again, but this time, you looked confused rather than angry. His eyes were soft as they scanned your face and as he brushed strands of your hair back behind your ears. “Why would you get hurt?” you asked again, bringing your voice to the same volume as his.

Jake sighed and squeezed his eyes shut for a second, as if in pain, before opening them again and boring them into yours. “I like you so, so much Y/N. So much so that I don’t know what to do with myself. But I know that you don’t feel the same way, and I was scared that by staying by your side, I’d just fall in love with you even more and get hurt in the end. So I pushed you away because I didn’t know what else to do, but I’m so sorry I- You’re crying again?”

Your fists grabbed at the front of Jake’s t-shirt as sobs raked through your body once more. It was official - Jake was the stupidest person you’d ever met. And you were in love with him.

“Why are you crying?”

“Because I like you too, you idiot!” you yelled back. Your tears were probably staining his t-shirt, but you couldn’t care less. He liked you. Jake liked you.

You were too busy crying to see Jake’s eyes slowly widening in disbelief. “You what?!”

Gently, Jake pushed your shoulders back so he could look at you. Even with puffy eyes and a runny nose, you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. Pretty like an angel that had graced the Earth with her presence. “You what?” he repeated, just to hear you say it again.

“I like you, Jake. I’m so in love with you it's actually pathetic,” you said with a chuckle, looking down out of shyness. But when you looked back up, Jake’s eyes were going back and forth between yours, the expression on his face like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard but desperately hoped it was true.

As you locked eyes, both of your faces lit up with grins. You burst into laughter together, finding each other’s hands and intertwining your fingers together. Then Jake brought you back into his arms, holding tightly, as if he was scared you might disappear any second. Kiwi and Layla had long walked away to give the two of you some needed privacy.

In each other’s arms, you rocked side to side gently and laughed for no reason other than the incredible fact your feelings were reciprocated. “You stink, you know,” you suddenly said in-between giggles. “You sweat while you ran after those kids.”

“I sweat? You mean I swote, right?” Jake asked a pause.

You leaned back to look at Jake. “Swote?” you echoed, and he nodded. Your umpteenth smile made your cheeks lift. “You have to be kidding-”

“I am,” Jake cut off, mirroring your smile. “I just wanted to make you laugh.”

You gasped and lightly punched his chest before letting your body fall against his again. “You’re so silly,” you said, sighing in bliss at the sound of his giggles.

Then all of a sudden, Jake pulled away and looked at you, almost frightened. “What about Sunghoon?” 

“What about him?” you asked back, confused by Jake’s question.

“I thought you- Didn’t you- you know…”

You tilted your head at Jake, a small grin spreading on your lips again. “I don’t know.”

“I thought you liked him…” Jake mumbled, looking away with a pout.

Before you could stop it, a noise of confusion left your throat. You looked at Jake like he was insane. “I can barely have a conversation with Sunghoon, what made you think I liked him?”

Jake pursed his lips and let a resigned puff of air out of his nose. “I, um- Remember when we mixed our backpacks up?” he asked and you nodded, smiling at the fun memory. “I may have, um, I may have read… your… diary,” he admitted, voice getting quieter with each word. He dared a glance at you - you looked horrified, eyes wide and mouth agape. “And you wrote that you liked Sunghoon,” he finished with a whisper.

It was silent for a few seconds, and Jake was bracing himself for a slap to the face or your screams, until you did the last thing Jake expected you to do - you laughed. You laughed so hard and for so long that he got scared you had gone insane and this was the first part of your mental breakdown before you murdered him in cold blood for having invaded your privacy. He would’ve deserved it, he thought.

“I don’t- oh my God, Jake, I don’t- I don’t like Sunghoon. I never really have, or not in the way you think, I can’t- oh my God,” you explained in between giggles, trying to catch your breath but starting to laugh again every time you managed to compose yourself. Jake tried to laugh along, but he was too confused to do so properly.

“You’re not mad?” Jake asked, eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“No,” you replied, shaking your head and the last giggles out of your throat. “You read it ages ago, and we didn’t even know each other back then, there’s no point in being mad now. It’s just funny - I know exactly why you think I liked Sunghoon, but I didn’t. Not really. And even if I did, those feelings are nothing compared to the ones I have for you now,” you said, beaming. A blush spread on Jake’s cheeks, and you could tell he was trying (and failing) to contain a proud grin.

You explained to Jake the ‘character’ thing you and your friends had going on and that Sunghoon (and hat guy) just happened to be one of them - you watched as Jake narrowed his eyes and slowly nodded, trying to understand this concept that was so foreign to him. 

“You know, it all makes a lot more sense now,” Jake said when you were explaining. “It would’ve been weird for you to like Sunghoon when I was right there.” He smirked down at you as you playfully rolled your eyes. 

“Oh my God!” you suddenly exclaimed, startling Jake in the process. Dramatic as always, he put a hand over his heart and exhaled loudly. “I have something for you. For us, actually.” You reached into your bag and got out the two accessories you’d made for you and Jake. “These are for us to put on our backpacks, so that we don’t confuse them again. They also match.”

Jake’s eyes were fixated on the string of beads as you placed into his palm. “I tried to give it to you over the week, but…” 

A teardrop fell into Jake’s palms, and when you looked at him, you realized he’d started crying. “Jake?” you cooed softly, and he sniffled, wiping away the tears from his eyes.

As a response, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and buried his face in your hair. “Thank you. And I’m sorry. I promise you’ll never go a second without my undivided attention from now on,” he said, voice shaking with emotion, and you hummed happily.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

He leaned back, and you were relieved to find the familiar puppyish grin on his lips. You gazed into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, and before he could stop himself, he grabbed your head in his hands and pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead. You raised your eyebrows in surprise, but when his face was back in front of yours, your eyes immediately drifted to his lips. They looked soft and plump and pink, and were utterly inviting. Every time you’d started daydreaming about kissing Jake, you’d stopped yourself, not wanting to over-indulge in your fantasies. But was this finally, really happening?

“Y/N?” Jake said quietly. You could swear his face was getting closer.

“Hm?”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

Your face broke out into a grin. Without warning, you pressed your lips against Jake’s - initially just for a peck, but as soon as you started pulling away, Jake chased after your lips and trapped them into a kiss, a proper one this time. You’d never done this before, so it was naturally somewhat clumsy, but you and Jake were so giddy with excitement that you couldn’t care less. So what if you were smiling so hard, your teeth clashed against his, or you kept bumping noses? You were kissing Jake Sim. 

The second time around, he let you pull away to catch your breath, and you wished you could photograph the sight in front of you - Jake with flushed cheeks, closed eyes and a serene smile on his face. He was so pretty, and now, he was all yours.

When he opens his eyes and finds you looking at him, his smile widens. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

“Yes,” you echoed, laughing. You pressed your lips to his cheek before burying your face in the crook of his neck.

He hugged you to him and the sweet sound of his giggles filled your ears and your heart. “My girl,” he whispered, before leaning his head back, face to the sky, and screaming it loud enough for the whole park to hear. You tried to shush him, but you couldn’t stop laughing yourself out of sheer excitement. Layla and Kiwi came running back to you, barking happily and trying to lick your faces. 

“I cried so much today, my eyes are gonna be puffy tomorrow morning,” you said between giggles. 

Jake pressed his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. “I’ll make sure you never cry again, Y/N,” he said, and he sounded so genuine, you almost wanted to cry again right then and there.

The rest of the afternoon went by in a blur - while you and Jake kissed, laughed, talked, and hugged, hours that felt like minutes passed you by. Jake kept on looking at the accessory you made him, poking fun at you for knowing his favorite color even though he’d never mentioned it.

“It was a lucky guess,” you grumbled. “Your room’s walls are that color,” you said, pointing to a particular dark blue bead.

“I love it,” he replied with a kiss to your forehead.

As always, he walks you home - and this time, you can take his hand without any hesitation. Your mom had come home from work while you and Jake were out, and you found her in the kitchen, prepping some veggies for dinner. 

As soon as Jake introduced himself, a flash of revelation struck her and she shot you a knowing smirk. “So you’re Jake,” she said, and the boy glanced at you with amused confusion. “That one over there has been badgering me about you these past few weeks.”

Apparently, you agreeing to be his girlfriend had already gone to his head, because instead of looking surprised at your mom’s words, he slowly turned to you with an arrogant smirk gracing his lips. “Has she?”

Your mom nodded slowly. “Oh, yes.” Then her expression slowly morphed into something else as she remembered your red, puffy eyes from the other evening when you’d told her about what was going on with Jake. She raised her kitchen knife and pointed it straight to him, eyes narrowed. “If you ever hurt my daughter again, I’m putting you in the lasagna, young man.”

Jake gulped, smirk completely wiped off of his face. You just watched in amusement. “I- I won’t,” he stuttered, eyes fixed on the blade of the knife.

A wide grin reappeared on your mom’s face as she went back to cutting the vegetables. “Good!” 

Jake looked at you for some sort of explanation, but you simply shrugged. He’d just have to get used to your mom’s crazy. 

“You know, you’re just as handsome as she described,” your mom told Jake with a wink.

“Mom, please!” you exclaimed, cheeks burning with heat. You liked it better when she was threatening your boyfriend with a knife, but he was relieved by the new turn this conversation had taken.

“What else has she said?”

“Oh, you know, just your typical he’s so smart, he’s so cute, he’s so funny-”

“Okay, that’s it!” you cut in before your mom could spill more on you. You ignored Jake’s noises of complaint as you grabbed him by the shoulders and led him towards the door. “I think it’s time for you to go home, no?” 

“Y/N, come on!” Jake whined, giggling. 

“Why don’t you stay for dinner, Jake?” your mom offered, making you stop in your tracks. You stared wide-eyed at her but she just looked at Jake, wearing an inviting smile.

“Sure!” Jake beamed. “I just need to call my mom.”

“Oh, invite her along! I always make enough to feed an army, anyway.”

“Really?” Jake asked, incredulous. Since his brother had left for university, it had always been just he and his mom at the dinner table. The thought of sharing a meal with you and your mom filled his heart with warmth. 

“Yeah!”

Jake smiled giddily as he got his phone out. “Thanks, she’ll be stoked.”

Although you both wanted to help your mom, she urged you to stay outside with the dogs and enjoy the last rays of sunshine of the day, insisting she didn’t need any help. So you and Jake spent some time throwing sticks for Kiwi and Layla and giggling at their cuteness. Kiwi quickly got exhausted and came to lie down at your feet, but Layla was tireless. “Your dog, your responsibility,” you said as you sat down next to Kiwi, rubbing his tummy and watching Jake throw the stick over and over again for Layla.

Jake was as relentless as Layla, and every time she ran after the stick, he ran to you and pressed a kiss to another part of your face, making you giggle every time. Once on your forehead, once on your nose, once on your cheek, then the other, and once on your lips.

Then his mom rang the bell, and as your mom opened the door for her, the oddest thing happened - they called out each other’s name and hugged as if they were old friends. You and Jake exchanged a confused look before turning your attention back to them.

“What a coincidence!”

“Right! Such a small world, I can’t believe you’re my daughter’s boyfriend’s mom.”

“Boyfriend? Gosh, has he finally asked her out? I was going crazy seeing him moping around in his room!”

“Mom!” Jake yelled, face already reddening as you burst into laughter.

You joined them inside the house and set the table while your mom finished up dinner. Jake’s mom had brought a bottle of red wine as a gift, so she poured two glasses for her and your mom, but you and Jake stuck to Sprite. 

Apparently, they knew each other from some yoga class they both went to every Sunday - you found out this was the woman your mom often went out for lunch or drinks with. They were so excited to meet each other like this that they talked most of the time, leaving you and Jake to eat your food quietly and giggling every time you made eye contact or your feet touched under the table. 

Just as you were about to take your last bite of lasagna, your phone pinged with a message. Curiously, so did Jake’s. Chaewon had sent a message into the group chat, asking to meet her at work when her shift was done because she was craving an Oreo milkshake.

chae bae y/n u better come ik ur not doing anything better tonight anyway

You scoffed. You were doing something better.

“Shit, today’s Friday! The boys are waiting for me at the diner, I completely forgot,” Jake exclaimed as he read the messages on his phone.

“Language, Jake,” his mom scolded.

“At the diner?” you repeated.

“Yeah, that one we went to last time. Why?” Jake asked when he noticed your surprised expression.

“That’s where Chaewon wants to meet.”

You both turned to your respective moms, silently asking for permission to leave the dinner table.

“Just go,” your mother said with a smile.

“I’ll take Layla home later,” Jake’s mom added.

You thanked them before rushing to get a bag and heading to the bus stop, hoping a bus would come by soon. Twenty minutes later, you were opening the doors of the diner and looking around for your friends, who were nowhere to be found. You were fishing your phone out of your pocket to call Chaewon when a familiar voice caught your and Jake’s attention.

“What are they doing together?” you heard Jay say, followed by loud shushes. You turned your head to find all five of your friends (plus Jaemin) crammed in a booth in the corner that was somewhat hidden from the rest of the restaurant. But they were trying so hard to be discreet that it made their presence even more obvious - they hid their faces with their hands as if that would make them disappear from your view. You and Jake shared a look before chuckling, shaking your head at your friends.

“Whatever, they’ve clearly found us,” Jay sighed and exited the booth, walking towards the two of you.

“Were you guys trying to get us to make up or something?” Jake asked with an amused smile.

“Yeah, we grouped up and planned this whole thing. It was a real team effort.”

“It might’ve worked better if you hadn’t all stayed here, you guys were so obvious,” you chided.

“Tell that to your friends over there! They insisted on watching it unfold,” Jay grumbled, and you looked behind him to see your friends frantically waving at you.

You switched to a bigger booth that could accommodate all seven of you, and as soon as you’d placed your orders, Yena practically pounced on you, demanding an explanation as to how the two of you were already made up.

You turned to look at Jake and smiled at him before answering. “It’s all thanks to Kiwi, really,” you told Yena.

“Kiwi? As in your dog Kiwi?” Chaewon asked with furrowed eyebrows.

“Mh-hm.” In your peripheral, you noticed Jake tilting his head at you.

“You mean Layla, right?”

You imitated his head movement. “No, I mean Kiwi.”

“But Layla made me go to the park today. I wouldn’t have gone there if it wasn’t for her,” Jake insisted, giving you an are you being serious look that you mirrored.

“I wasn’t going to go outside at all but Kiwi kept bugging me to take him on a walk, that’s why I was in the park in the first place. It’s thanks to Kiwi,” you repeated.

“It’s thanks to Layla,” Jake retorted, playfully narrowing his eyes at you.

“Trouble in paradise,” Jaemin whispered, and Hyewon slapped his arm.

The whole table was silent as you and Jake stared each other down, waiting to see who would cave first. It was like everyone could breathe again when Jake’s face broke out into a grin and he rested his arm behind your shoulders. “Okay, it’s thanks to Kiwi,” he conceded, making you hum in satisfaction. You rested your head on his shoulder and ignored Yena’s groan of disgust at the PDA.

But Jake, as always, wasn’t letting you off the hook so easily. “And Layla.”

—

02.06.202X - 12:18

rodrigo hater y/n i can see you being gross from across the courtyard can u guys not feed each other ur still on school grounds and ur ruining my day have some decency

sweet hyewon you guys are super cute <3  jaemin and i only have the same lunch period once a week i miss him

rodrigo hater ugh wheres chaewon she’d have my back

you hyewon love u yena frigg off you’re not going to like this… i think she’s with sunghoon rodrigo hater WHAT

sweet hyewon omg hahahaha saw it coming cuuuuute

rodrigo hater i hate you all so much you’re all kicked out of my celibacy club

chae bae we weren’t part of it in the first place

rodrigo hater GO AWAY YOU TRAITOR

03.06.202X - 09:15

you jake wake up  wake up wake up please

jake ??? R U okay?

you kiwi keeps whining i think he wants to see layla come over?

jake . did u just wake me up before 10 am on a sunday morning for this

you i made pancakes?

jake i’m going back to sleep

you but i miss you :(

jake running

07.06.202X - 16:39

stink #1 hey

jake no

stink #1 wtf man

jake im busy

stink #1 smooching ur girl?

jake yeah stay mad bro

stink #1 where’s hoon

stink #2 he’s at ice skating practice with me <3 this is chaewon btw

jake AYO????

stink #1 HE GAVE YOU ACCESS TO HIS PHONE???

stink #2 hehehe bye losers

stink #1 oh my god jake this is huge

jake right… our little boy he’s grown so much

stink #1 i’m getting teary eyed anyway i wanted to say i think we should invite the girls to bro night more often it’s always fun with them

jake oh? if u wanna see yena just say so bro

stink #1 fuck u man

jake ur literally so obvious you get 100% more obnoxious when she’s around

stink #1 idc she laughs at my jokes

jake which is proof that there’s something wrong w her anyway i’ll ask my girl about it

stink #1 ew and thx ^^

09.06.202X - 17:03

jakey-poo y/nnnnnn y/n hellloooooo y/n y/n y/n baby :(((( where are u what r u doing i miss you hello y/n my baby darling angel pls answer me layla misses you

you jake sim

jakey-poo HIIIIII

you jay is a genius i’m anime pomodoroing the hell out of this essay it’s working so well i’m almost done with it already

jakey-poo don’t compliment another man ever again i’m going to cry

you but jay’s your friend

jakey-poo i’ll kill him if i have to

you gosh okay jay’s an idiot

jakey-poo hahaha he is ice cream after dinner ???

you duh

31.07.202X - 21:03

jakey-poo i’m waiting for you outside the theater baby we have a lot of talking to do. i can’t believe you kissed someone else in front of me

you jake baby it was just acting <3 you know you’re the only one i really kiss

jakey-poo i know i am so come here and kiss me quick you did so well and you were so pretty on stage and i love you so much  COME QUICK I WANNA KISS YOU

you i’m hurrying i promise but a lot of people are trying to talk to me :(

jakey-poo ofc they are you killed it my baby’s already famous <3

you hehe love you my jakey-poo

jakey-poo STOP IT WITH THAT

permanent taglist: @zreamy @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts @moonlighthoon @4imhry @rikisly @loves0ft @iamliacamila @theboingsuckerasseater9000 @chaechae-23 (ask to be removed/added!)

© asahicore on Tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works. feedback and reblogs always appreciated!

[cleoluvrr]

black magnolias I - rafe cameron x reader

i gave you all my light, and i got nothing to show for it

WARNINGS: mature content; domestic violence, coercion, classism, religious trauma, manipulative behavior, stalking, toxic relationship, blackmail

masterlist

the sound of old baptist hymns vibrated your bones, the drums and tambourines dancing in unison as dozens of feet stomped rhythmically. the floor of the building was littered with the bodies of women dressed in white, their plump frames covered in sheets to protect their modesty as they were prayed and shouted over by fellow churchgoers. the floorboards creaked under the weight of heavy feet and hard-bottomed dress shoes. the smell of mildew and old wood was strong, no amount of spearmint chewing gum able to mask the unpleasant scent of the damp wood that wafted into your nose with every breath.

church was the last place you wanted to be on a friday afternoon, shiny black shoes tapping against the creaking floorboards impatiently as  you checked your phone for what seemed like the thirtieth time that hour. you’d prefer to be at the bait shop with your friends but ever since returning from the journey in search of the lost gold, your parents hardly let you out of their sight. 

they were already convinced that your friends were a bad influence; that they were making you lose focus on school and the life they worked so hard for you to get. the one that you were making for yourself. you had scholarships and college acceptances lined up for you, a good job on figure eight, a nice boyfriend that would do almost anything for you. you were so close to losing it all because of the pogues–not that you were absolved from all responsibility. however, going missing for weeks in the middle of the caribbean while they were back at home, not even sure if you were alive or dead, only strengthened that belief. 

it was strange being back in the old, wet building after so many years. your parents were always very religious, the two of them raised in the very church where you sat. and for a lot of your childhood you were too.

it was routine to attend worship sessions three times a week, your parents praying for a miracle that would never come. they thought that forcing you to come would make you just as devout as them, but it only made you hate the place more. the cult-like behavior only drove you away the older you got, the rift between you and your family growing larger the closer you got with the pogues. becoming involved with them is when your relationship with your parents began to strain.

when you met kie your sophomore year of highschool, she introduced you to the pogues. the way they lived life was the complete opposite of yours; on the edge, only worrying about the present and not the future. it was so odd to see them never concerned with what happens after highschool. kiara’s parents thought that you were a good influence on her. that if she became friends with you then she would leave the boys behind for good.

her parents were like yours in many ways; overbearing and judgemental of people they believed they were better than. instead of locking you away in a camp for troubled teens like kiara, they prayed over you day and night trying to cast out the demons that took their beloved daughter. 

you wish you’d never told the truth about why you went missing for those weeks. maybe then you wouldn’t be stuck going to church every other day with a leash so tight it might as well be a noose. 

it was a miracle that you graduated high school on time, and something greater than that to still have your job when you came back. pope wasn’t so lucky, and his parents never let him forget it. sometimes it felt like walking on eggshells around him when you talked about anything college related, knowing that everything he worked for blew up in his face while running behind the pogues. it felt unfair.

you both worked just as hard for everything you built, but you had connections and he didn’t. you got lucky. it was the truth even though he refused to say it and you didn’t want to admit it.

the sight of a quarter past two on your phone had you jumping out of the old wooden pew like it was on fire, silently making your exit before your parents could stop you. nobody was paying attention to you anyways, the church goers far too occupied with yet another praise break. the yelling and holy ghost-catching was distraction enough for you to slip out without being noticed. reaching up to wipe the anointing oil off your forehead, you take in a deep breath, the fresh air a relief to you after sitting in the stuffy must of the old church for almost four hours.

“yo!” you heard a familiar voice shout from a short distance. the sight of your friends in the twinkie made your face light up with a smile, jj’s head of shaggy blonde hair poking out the passenger side window as he waved you over.  “don’t have all day sunday’s best, we have business to attend to!”

 “shut up, jj. you aren’t even driving.” you rolled your eyes at him, shoes clicking against the concrete as you briskly walked towards the beat up van. the door shut loudly behind you as you took a seat next to pope in the back, the petticoat beneath your dress billowing dramatically against the cushioned bench.

the dark-skinned boy snickered beside you, a brown hand covering his mouth as he hid a teasing smile from your heated gaze. “i have bear mace in my bag, by the way. just thought you should know.” that only made him laugh harder, the two boys in the front joining in on the humiliation session.

you pouted silently for the rest of the ride to the shop, anxiously waiting to change into something more casual and comfortable than the outfit your mother picked out for you that morning. it made you feel out of place, even in the place that it was made for. everyone in the church wore old, dull clothes, bright colors faded from years of washing and wear and unable to afford much better. your family was always the best dressed out of the bunch, and it made you stick out like a sore thumb–more than you already did. your parents always believed that you “had to look your best to come before the lord in his house,” and so you did. 

using your money on material things like pretty dresses and nail appointments just so your parents could show off in front of a church full of poor people when they were barely better off themselves made you feel sick; hearing them talk about how those people weren’t praying hard enough, how they didn’t believe in him strongly enough to receive his blessings. that their lack of devotion was the reason they couldn’t afford better for themselves.

for your parents to pretend that the reason they were in the position they were in because of their borderline-religious psychosis instead of the people you put them into rooms with because of who your ex-boyfriend’s dad was, was nauseating. your family was in that same position before you met him, and they’d be right back the moment anything went left.

you would never tell them that though.

“so, your folks ever letting you off that leash?” john b asks from the front seat, his erratic driving something you’d become used to over the years. you shrugged, the pads of your fingers tapping against the soft fabric of your dress.

“as long as i go to work, school, and…church,” it took everything in you to not gag on the word as it left your mouth. “i can do what i want.”

you heard jj scoff next to the brunette up front. “so, no.” he said, blue eyes meeting yours as he turned to meet your own. “you know, you’ll never have freedom unless you take it, y/n!”

“that’s easy for you to say, jj.” you rolled your eyes at him again, irritation rolling in on a cloud atop your head. “you said the same thing to kie. look where that got her.” 

the other two boys groaned, the signs of an argument showing itself already after less than five minutes into the car ride to the bait shop.

it was routine for you and jj to butt heads. he always got everyone into life-endangering situations because of his stupid, rash decisions, and while everyone else would be mad at him for all of one day before forgiving him–you would never. you loved him just as much as the rest of the pogues, but he was selfish, immature, and never took accountability for his actions. it bothered you to no end how the rest of your friends just accepted that from him. you wanted him to be better, and he never would be if everyone just kept letting him get away with the same things over and over.

“uh, let me see…” he trails off, pretending to be lost in thought. “oh, yeah, free.”

“no, actually. i was thinking…homeless, estranged from her parents, locked up in a wilderness camp, and living in that ramshackle code violation you guys call a house.” you cut in. counting on your fingers, you list all the consequences kiara has faced after listening to jj one too many times. “i’d rather be called a demon two days a week if it means i can take showers whenever i want.”

“right. so don’t complain to us about it anymore if that’s how you’re gonna be.” 

“i didn’t complain, you gave me unsolicited advice and i told you exactly why i don’t need it.”

pope nudged you gently, eyes wide as he silently begged you to stop before things got out of hand. shaking your head you lean back in the seat and let jj talk to himself for the rest of the ride, deeply uninterested in entertaining him any longer than you had to. 

the car barely rolled to a stop before you were hopping out into the grass, the green earth padding your heavy footsteps as you made way to the refurbished wooden structure of jj’s house. sweat had started to trickle down the back of your neck from the layers of your attire and the heat of aggravation only made it worse.

you wanted to enjoy your weekend off, and nobody was going to ruin it for you. both of you were too proud to back down during an argument once you got up there, but you were smart enough to know when to pull back before it got to that point–jj would just have to find company with someone else for now. 

as you made your way back out the door, you spotted more of the pogues sitting in the back of the old van. your hands held down the skirt of the short, cotton summer dress you wore instead of the thick material of the old one, harsh breeze sending the fabric billowing in the wind.

kiara smiled as you approached, her arms outstretched for a bone-crushing hug as soon as you were close enough. cleo and sarah joined her not long after, the three girls suffocating you with affection after not seeing them in over a week.

you’d been so caught up with work and school that it was hard to see them as much as you used to. “it’s a part of growing up,” is what your mother told you. you both knew that she only wanted to keep you busy so that you couldn't hang out with them, but you never said anything about it. you wanted to keep whatever peace you were able to make between the two of you.

“hey, pretty girl!” sarah exclaimed, her brown eyes and bright smile greeting you as she pulled away from the group embrace. “i missed you so much. i can’t believe you left us alone with these animals for so long.”

“i missed you, too” you sighed contently, hand reaching up to push hair out of your face. “my life has been so hectic lately. i feel like i barely have time to breathe anymore.”

the ride to the beach felt shorter than it usually did, the four of you busying yourself catching up as the boys sang loudly out the windows. it was favored timing that you had time off this weekend, the pogues practically begging you to come watch jj race in the enduro this year. even if you were busy, they would find a way to force you out anyway. 

a large crowd of kooks and pogues took up space on the beach where the race would start, the sounds of loud cheers and bikes revving filling your ears as you approached. it was surprising that a fight hadn’t broken out yet, high tension thick in the air as bets were made before the race.

as you took in the organized chaos, your eyes caught on a familiar blond in all red not too far away. a barking laugh escaped you, the sight of topper in a full racing suit sending you into a fit of giggles. you tapped kiara’s leg, the girl joining you in doubling over when she spotted him on his bike.

“wow, i didn’t know he could look any more like a fucking idiot.” you said after catching your breath, the remnants of a grin still left on your face. “really outdid himself this time. i cannot believe you dated him.” sarah shoved you hard, sending you stumbling as you tried your hardest to hold back another fit of laughter. a deep red flush was traveling up her face, a ghost of a smile creeping it way onto her lips.

“why are we talking about my ex?” sarah rolled her eyes playfully. her arm raised to point out another person in the crowd. “yours is right there.”

freezing in place at her words, the mention of your ex-boyfriend sent a shiver down your spine. you slowly turned in the direction of where her finger raised attention to, heart stopping at the sight of a broad figure dressed in all black. you knew it all too well.

“yeah…her brother has gotta be way worse than topper.” kiara adds. you glare at her and she raises her hands in surrender. “sorry! but it's true…he literally tried to kill her–multiple times. and you. and pope. and literally did murder someone before covering it up–”

“yes, kiara, i know.” you cut her off abruptly. “i am fully aware that my ex is a murderous, abusive psycho with severe family issues. thank you for reminding all of us.” you knew she didn’t mean any harm, but it was hard to not snap at the mention of him.

you’d spent so long thinking about what happened the last time you two spoke. 

your boyfriend–ex-boyfriend, knew the real reason you were missing for all that time. he would never let you live down the betrayal of pushing him off that boat to save your friends, or ignoring him for months so that you wouldn’t have to face the things you did to him. there was no reason to feel bad; the man showed his true colors and he got what he deserved. but even after what you did to him in barbados, he didn’t rat you out. he vouched for you, though you wish he never had. your time hadn’t come yet, but you were all too aware that it would be on its way.

rafe cameron did no favors–not without getting one in return.

the two of you never officially broke up, not because you didn’t want to, but because you were too afraid to face him after what you did. at the same time, he knew where to find you. if he wanted to see you, to talk to you, he would. you were pretty sure that he moved on to another girl in your absence, the man and his business no longer your concern.

“uh oh…” kiara whispered to you as your only warning before another voice made its presence. her gaze flickered between you and whoever was standing behind you, her wide and worried eyes only serving as confirmation to their identity.

when she saw you were making no moves to face the looming body just inches away from you, she opened her mouth to speak. she didn’t even get a breath out before his voice filled you, the sound sending vibrations through your bones and fear coursing through your veins.

“been a while, huh?”

swallowing, you accept your fate. avoiding him forever was impossible–you'd have to deal with him eventually.

[waughymommy]

MOMMY KNOWS BEST 💞

Chapter 13

            Brian had managed to pull it together enough to get some work done. But as it neared lunchtime, he took notice of his aching bladder. He had tried to ignore the dampness of his pull-up from his earlier episode. It wasn’t by any means soaked, but he would feel better when he changed. He reached into his bag and pulled out a pull-up. He panicked when he realized he would have to sneak it out of his office. It might look odd carrying his work bag into the bathroom. He looked back at the pull-up and thought it was thin enough to wedge it between his waist band and his back and put on his jacket to conceal it. He called Samantha into office.

            “Yes, Mr. Sullivan?, she asked.

            “Um yes, I need you to hold my calls for a few minutes.” He shuffled papers on his desk, trying not to reveal his nervousness. “I think a walk will do me some good, maybe clear my head before the meeting this afternoon.”

            “Absolutely. I think that is a great idea. Is there anything else I can do?” she asked with a genuine smile.

            “You know what, there is. I want you in that meeting with me this afternoon. I want your eyes on this new project.”

She beamed. Although he often asked for her input, he had never brought her to one of these big project meetings. “Yes...yes I will absolutely be there.”

“Excellent. Ok I will be back in a bit,” he said as walked out the door. She watched him as he departed. He jacket was bunched in the back. She could something protruding from the waist of his pants. She couldn’t see it long as he disappeared from the doorway. She thought it crazy, but thought that it looked like a diaper. She was about to make her exit when she dropped her pen. It rolled down by his bag and she bent down to retrieve it. That’s when she noticed a ribbon connected to clip underneath his bag. That was curious. She pulled it free and discovered what was at the other end of the clip: a pacifier. A moment ago, she swore she a diaper sticking out of his pants and now she was holding a pacifier. She was nearly certain that he didn’t have any children. Why would this be here? Then she noticed that it was abnormally large. It looked far too big for any child. Was this his? She clutched it into her hand and walked out to her desk where she shoved it in a drawer.

            Brian nervously shuffled through the office. Brian had always had bathroom anxiety. He hated going into a bathroom with several stalls already occupied. He never understood how people could go so easily with others in earshot. If it looked like a bathroom was quite full, he had no turning around and waiting for another time. He would even walk clear across the building to one of the more secluded bathrooms to have some privacy. That’s where he planned on going now. Although it would take longer to get there, it might be an easier place to change. As it was the lunch hour, much of the office was vacant. Brian breathed a sigh of relief as he reached the bathroom and found all the stalls empty.

            He closed the door behind him and removed his jacket. He stood there for a moment trying to figure out how to do this. If his mommy were here, she would know exactly what to do. After a moment, he realized he had no choice but to completely undress. He slipped out of his shoes and proceeded to strip down. Here he was standing in an office bathroom in nothing but his socks, a onesie and a damp pull up. He never could have imagined this when he left work on Friday. He unfastened the snaps of the onesie and tore off the onesie. He pulled up his onesie while he used the bathroom. His bladder was super full and he felt instant relief. When he finished, he slipped on the new pullup and proceeded to redress himself. This was going to be a big problem if he was going to have to completely undress every time he needed to use the bathroom. He walked out of the stall and placed the used pull-up in the trashcan. He wadded up several paper towels and threw them over top of the discarded pull-up in hopes that no one would see it. He washed his hands and looked himself over in the mirror. He felt confident that his onesie was properly concealed, and he started to make his way back to his office.

            As he passed Samantha’s desk, he flashed a nervous smile and quickly shuffled into his office. He had just settled back into his chair, when she knocked at his door. “May I come in?” she asked through the door.

            Brian exhaled, “Sure.”

            “That was a pretty fast walk sir. Is there anything you need before the big meeting this afternoon?” she asked in a sweet tone.

            He looked up at her with an almost quizzical gaze. She was always a diligent employee, but today she seemed to be extra attentive, almost doting. He couldn’t put his finger on it. “A coffee would be wonderful. I could use a pick me up.”

            “Glady,” and she was off. Brian tried to focus his mind on the upcoming meeting. Today was the first that he had of the Babies R Us project. He didn’t even know they were a client. But why did they want him on the project? He was feeling pensive again and he reached into his bag, fishing for his pacifier. Nothing. His chest grew tight and his stomach was in knots again. He frantically threw the bag on his desk to search the bag more thoroughly. As he searched, Samantha came back in with his coffee.

            “Is everything alright Mr. Sullivan?" she asked with concern. She saw the frantic expression on his face. He tried to make up an excuse that he had momentarily lost his wedding ring.

            He placed the bag back on the ground, “All good. Thank you for the coffee.” She knew that he had to have been looking for the pacifier she found earlier. It probably explained why he was acting so weird. She felt a sudden pang of guilt for taking it, but she had so many questions She guessed her own curiosity possessed her to grab it. For a split second she thought about retrieving it from her desk and returning it. However, with the meeting approaching, it seemed like a bad time. She would wait until it was time to head home.

            The hour of the meeting arrived and the two walked into the conference room. Mr. Gates was already seated as well as several of his other colleagues. “Ah Mr. Sullivan, just the man I have been waiting to see. Please take your seat and we will get started in just a moment.”

            Brian sat down at opened his notebook. Samantha went to take a seat at a chair on the perimeter of the room, but he beckoned for her to sit next to him. “I hope you don’t mind Mr. Gates, I have invited Ms. Carson to sit in on this meeting. I think she might some fresh perspective.”

            “Of course not Mr. Sullivan. Your work for this company has been impeccable. You have been invaluable to this company. Now as you may know, Babies R Us as hired us to help them market a new product line. If we knock this out of the park, they may work with us exclusively. Mr. Johnson here is going to brief us a bit more on the details. The floor is yours sir.”

            Mark Johnson passed around a packet of information to everyone in attendance, “Thank you Mr. Gates. As he said Babies R Us wants us to market this new line of products. As you can see here it is called Mommy Knows Best. It includes everything from diapers and clothing to strollers and furniture. Brian stared down at the line of products listed in the packet. He kept his head down. He prayed he wasn’t blushing too bad. He was sitting in a conference room listening to a presentation on a line of baby products while underneath his professional attire, he was clad in a pull-up and onesie. Samantha noticed his discomfort but recognized there was little that she could do in the moment. Brian struggled to focus and was only partially paying attention. As Mark spoke, he noticed a twinge in his bladder. He shouldn’t have had that coffee.

            Mark continued on, “As you can guess with a name like Mommy Knows Best, we want to drive home that idea that no one knows what’s best for their baby than a mother. We want them to associate this line of product as the best possible decision for all of their baby’s needs.” Brian began to quietly fidget in his seat. He absent mindedly bounced his leg. Samantha had never seen Brian act this way. He was usually so calm and collected. Brian tried to focus, but his full bladder interrupted his concentration. He decided to try and pee a little bit with the hope of reducing the pressure. He took a breath and relaxed his muscles, but instead of just letting out a small spurt, the damn burst. There was nothing he could do to stop it as his pull was being put to its limit. Samantha looked over convinced she heard a hissing sound. Brian tried to look nonchalant, but he was on the verge of panic attack.

            Mark finished his presentation. Mr. Gates stood up and looked directly at Brian, “Mr. Sullivan can we rely on you to handle this project.”

            Brian stammered, “Uh yes…yes of course of Mr. Gates.”

            “Very well then. Thank you everyone,” Mr. Gates said and exited the conference room. Brian stood up without a word. He could feel the weight of his pullup. He was too scared to see if he leaked into his pants. He raced out of the room without waiting for Samantha to accompany him. She had no clue as how to help.

            Brian reached the safety of his office and locked the door behind him. He pulled down his pants to inspect. He could feel that his onesie was damp, but his pants remained dry. He hoped he could make it till the end of the day. He unlocked his door and went back to his desk. As he sat down, he felt the squish of his pull-up. He just wanted to cry. He needed his mommy. He sat staring at his computer screen in a total fog. Finally a knock at the door jolted him from his daze. “Mr. Sullivan is there anything else I can do before I head home?” He looked down at phone and realized the time. “No Ms. Carson. Thank you for all you hard work today,” he said through the door.

            Brian gathered his things and walked briskly out of his office. He reached his car and set his bag inside. He was just about to hop in when he heard his name called. He swung around to see Samantha running towards him.

            “Ms. Carson, is everything ok?” he called to her.

            “I need to apologize to you,” she said while opening her hand to reveal something sitting on her palm. “I found this on the floor of your office. I am so so sorry Mr. Sullivan. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just grabbed it and I shouldn’t have. I have no idea what’s going on. I know you were under a lot of stress today. I want you to know that I am here if there is anything I can do, not only as a coworker, but as a friend. You have always been so kind and respectful to me.”

            Brian’s face could not hide his shock as he took the pacifier from her. He was completely flabbergasted. He tried to speak, but no words escaped his mouth. She reached up and in a comforting manner, placed her hand on his arm. “There is no judgement from me. You are a good man, Brian. Oh and, you might want to get some thicker protection,” and with that she walked away. Brian quickly patted his backside and realized that several wet spots had formed. He hopped down in the car and tried to process what had just happened. He looked down at the pacifier still in his hand. After a moment, he surrendered to his needs and popped it into his mouth and proceeded to drive home.

[pulisicsgirl]

breathe, you're okay - mason mount

summary: when the mounting pressure of a Women's UCL run is falling on Y/N's shoulders, she isn't handling it by herself as well as she would like everyone to believe she is

pairing: Mason Mount x footballer!reader

word count: 2.9k

warnings/tags: hurt/comfort, no established relationship, !!descriptions of a panic attack!!, discussions about mental heath, supportive Mase

requested: no

notes: surprise!! I'm sorry I haven't posted in months-- my life kind of went up in flames over the summer and I haven't had the time to write that I was hoping to. I have a few WIPs in my drafts, and I am still working on all of your requests! Please let me know what you think of this!

The hot afternoon sun beat down on you, and you felt the drops of sweat sliding down the side of your head and tickling the hairs on the back of your neck. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as you ran up and down the field, weaving between cones, carrying the ball at your feet, running through a series of consecutive drills that were designed to refine your skills and test your endurance.

You did your best to recall the instructions that your coach had carefully laid out before the team began the drill, but with the heat and the fatigue that was seeping all the way into your bones, it seemed impossible to remember. You wound up relying on the teammate in front of you to recall what you needed to do next.

You let out a heavy sigh of relief when you heard the sound of the whistle—two short chirps, signaling for you to halt your movements. You draped your arms over your head, drawing in deep, heaving breaths as you attempted to get your heart rate under control.

You joined the rest of your teammates as they gathered around the coach, preparing for his parting words before everyone was dismissed.

“Good session today, ladies,” he clapped his hands in front of him, looking around the circle. “I’m seeing a lot of good things. A lot of improvement in our touches and finishing. You all are looking really good.”

A couple of the girls clapped at his words, the rest too exhausted to do anything but listen.

“We have the day off tomorrow, so use it well. Rest, recover, and come back Monday ready to go. We’ve got some heavy prep next week before the second leg on Friday,” he continued, and a couple others whooped, getting excited for the upcoming big game.

“They’re gonna be a really tough opponent, I’ll be honest. We know that their back line is really strong, tough to break through.” Your coach’s eyes fell on you, and you knew what was coming next before he even began to speak, your stomach sinking slightly. “But that’s what we have Miss Y/N, for, right?”

Several of the girls cheered for you. The girls near you slapped you on the back, trying to get you hyped up. And the weight that had settled in the pit of your stomach grew heavier.

The Manchester United women were on an impressive UEFA Women’s Champions League run, overcoming seemingly insurmountable odds to make it to the semifinal. And according to the media (and now your own teammates and coaches), it was all thanks to you.

In the group stage, a decisive game in which your team had gone down 2-0 in the first half had seemed hopeless until you had scored two goals in the second, assisting on the third to put your team through to the knockout games. Another three goal contributions in the quarter-final matches had put you in the spotlight of all of the team’s media coverage, thrusting a wave of attention upon you that you had never asked for.

You had gone down 1-0 in the first leg of the semi-final, and now you were playing from behind. And it seemed that everyone expected you to be the one to pull them out of it.

So now, you were left feeling the pressure as the second leg was fast approaching.

“Alright, ladies. Have a good rest of the day and a great day off tomorrow.” He clapped his hands, dismissing you all. The circle of girls dispersed, chatting among themselves.

“Am I still leaving the cones out for you?” the coach raising his eyebrows at you. You only nodded in return. “Okay, don’t work yourself to death.”

You laughed humorlessly as you fiddled with the ball at your feet, not meeting his eyes.

“Hey,” he said, resting a hand on your shoulder to try to draw your attention to him. “Get some rest tomorrow, okay? We all see how hard you’re working. Give yourself a break.”

Another nod is all that you can muster, and you don’t miss the short sigh that he lets out as he drops his hand from your shoulder and walks to join the rest of the group moving indoors.

You repositioned a few of the cones to set up your own drill and got right into it.

Across the field, on another training pitch near yours, Mason watched as you carried the ball with you up and down the field, weaving between cones, practicing a few skills that he had seen you implement in games, and taking a shot on the goal at each pass.

He was supposed to be doing a bit of extra work with a few of the boys. The men’s team had finished their training session about an hour before, but a few of them still felt like they wanted to get a bit more done before calling it a day. So here they were, running a few small three-a-side games to utilize the last of their energy that day.

But he couldn’t help but notice how you never stopped.

During the team training, you were always one of the hardest-working ones out there. When he had returned to the pitch from lunch, you were taking shots on the goal with the rest of your team nowhere in sight. He wasn’t even sure he had seen you eating lunch inside when he thought about it.

And now here you were, sprinting across the length of the field, over and over, after the rest of your team had hit the showers.

He felt a twinge of worry for you but brushed it off as one of his teammates called his name to pull his attention back to the game they were playing.

Your head was spinning as you pushed yourself to keep moving. Your entire body was drenched in sweat. Every muscle ached from overexertion as you gritted your teeth, forcing them to keep moving. The sun was dizzyingly bright as the evening set in. You could feel the heat practically radiating off of your skin. Your lungs were burning with your heaving breaths and your mouth quickly grew dry.

“That’s what we have Miss Y/N for, right?” Your coach’s words echoed through your head as you carried the ball down the field.

“Y/L/N carries the Man U Women through to the semifinal!” You recalled the title of the article as you weaved between the cones.

“I really believe Y/N Y/L/N could be the one to lead Manchester United to their first Women’s Champion’s League trophy!” You heard the words of the pundit clear as day as you planted your foot, striking the ball cleanly. It soared through the air, curving toward the goal, and struck the crossbar. The ball flew away from the goal, bouncing pathetically on the ground in the penalty area.

You took a pause, the words and expectations crashing around your mind leaving an unsettling feeling in your chest. As you stood there, you couldn’t seem to get your panting breaths to grow steadier.

Your shirt suddenly felt too tight on your neck. You grasped the fabric, pulling it away from your body in an attempt to allow yourself to breathe easier, but nothing seemed to be helping.

Your head was spinning. You felt your stomach sink, a feeling like when you plummeted down the tall hill of a rollercoaster, a sick feeling settling in your abdomen. Your skin began to crawl, and you just couldn’t stop hyperventilating.

You began to panic. Eyes searching frantically for relief. You weren’t sure what you were looking for—something, anything.

You suddenly felt like you were too out in the open, needing to seclude yourself away from the sight of prying eyes. You set into a sprint, off of the field and around the corner of the nearest part of the building to you, trying to find some shade from the hot sun and hide yourself from anyone who might see your pathetic state.

But it was too late. Mason had seen the whole thing.

They had just paused their game for a short water break. He had seen you take the shot, instead hitting the crossbar. It only took him a few seconds once you paused to realize that something wasn’t right.

He watched the way your chest rose and fell rapidly in quick, short breaths. When you began attempting to pull your shirt away from your body, he instantly knew what was taking place. He’d recognize that feeling anywhere.

You were having a panic attack, whether you realized it or not.

As soon as he saw you take off for the side of the building, he was running after you without so much as a word of explanation to his teammates.

Once in the shade of the wall you hid behind, you began pacing, unable to keep still. Every inch of your body felt jittery, and you felt unsteady on your legs. You couldn’t manage more than rapid, shallow breaths. Your throat felt tight, your breaths sounding more like wheezes, and it was starting to make your head spin. Your hands flew to your head, scratching at your scalp in an attempt to somehow rid yourself of the feeling.

You were startled by Mason swiftly rounding the corner, concern written all over his face as he stopped in front of you.

“Hey, hey, hey, you’re okay,” he spoke calmly and evenly. He quickly reached up, taking your wrists in his hands so he could gently but firmly pull your hands out of your hair to keep you from hurting yourself.

“I can’t, Mason. I can’t,” you panted, shaking your head ‘no’ frantically and still trying to weakly pull your hand from his grip.

“You’re okay, Y/N. Try to slow down your breathing,” Mason’s calm voice directly contrasted your frantic behavior, speaking in short sentences so as to not overwhelm you more. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

A short sob fell from your lips, and you felt the tears spilling over and down your cheeks.

“We’re gonna lose,” you sobbed, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion. “The semifinal, we’re gonna lose it, and it’s gonna be all my fault.”

In that moment, everything clicked into place for Mason-- the UWCL run, your success in the games leading up to the semi-final leg, the pressure from the fans and the team, the countless extra hours you had been putting in.

A loud noise in the distance, coming from the direction of the parking lot, startled you, snatching your attention and you whipped your head to the side, eyes searching frantically for the source. He released your wrists from his hand, testing the waters as he turned your head back to look at him with a hand on your cheek.

He cradled your face with a hand on either side, keeping your focus on him. His thumbs wiped the tears away that had slipped down your cheeks.

“Hey, look at me. You’re gonna be okay. I’ve got you,” he repeated the affirmations he had already been telling you.

As he stroked his thumbs softly over the skin of your cheek, he felt that your breathing was already growing a bit slower. You had reached up, holding onto his wrists with both of your hands to steady yourself, feeling too unsteady on your feet. His hands were gentle and soft on your skin.

Mason watched your expression, taking long deep breaths for you to emulate. Your eyes were still wide, darting frantically around his face, but you were trying your best to follow his breathing. He continued whispering short reassurances.

“You’re safe.”

“It’s gonna be okay.”

“I’ve got you.”

You were beginning to calm down, but your eyes darted to something behind Mason, pulled away from the calm atmosphere he had tried to create for you.

“Hey, hey, stay with me,” he spoke gently, pressing his forehead to yours so you would only focus on him. You were shocked at how little the intrusion on your personal space bothered you. In fact, to your surprise, the closeness seemed to settle you a little more.

You continued focusing on your breathing, gripping tightly to his wrists as if you thought he’d disappear if you let go. Your eyes were clamped closed, listening to Mason’s soft and slow breathing. You felt your pounding heart being to slow its pace.

The panic you had been feeling subsided, leaving behind a wave of extreme fatigue. You felt completely and utterly drained.

Mason must have noticed the way that your body slumped over, and he guided you to sit down on the grass, leaning back against the brick wall of the building. He sat down next to you, leaving space so he didn’t make you more nervous. But in the haze you felt in your mind, you felt a need to still be close to him, leaning over so you could place your head on his shoulder. A short pang of guilt washed over you as you noticed the crescent-shaped indents you had left on his wrists, your nails digging into the skin as you had held onto him.

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, your eyes slipping closed as you continued focusing on breathing slowly. A gentle breeze blew through, cooling your clammy skin and brushing through the blades of grass.

“I used to get them sometimes, too, you know?” Mason broke the silence, speaking softly.

You responded with a quiet, “hmm?” unsure of what he meant.

“Panic attacks,” he explained. “At the end of last season, before I left Chelsea. There was a lot of pressure. Any time I played, everyone had something to say about it. Even when I didn’t play, some would find a reason to be upset. It all just got to be too much.”

A deep sadness filled you while you listened to his words. “How did you get through it?”

“Ben found me having one in my car after training one day.” He was quiet for a moment. “I tried to power through it—like you. Skipping lunch and staying late to train a bit extra on the field or put in an extra session in the gym. But once Ben realized what was going on, he made sure that I was taking care of myself properly and wasn’t dealing with it on my own anymore.”

You sat up so you could look at Mason’s face, and you saw a hint of sadness there. “So I’ll tell you what he told me. There are 10 other people with you on that field at all times. If you fall down, there are 10 pairs of hands ready to help you back to your feet. If you succeed, there are 10 others to celebrate with you. But it’s not all on you.”

Your eyes were misty, welling up with tears at his words. He slipped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a secure hug as the tears began to stream down your cheeks.

“No matter the outcome of the game next week, you’re an incredible player, Y/N.” He placed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “You’ve already done so much so early in your career. The media and the fans will say what they want—don’t let them get to you. And your coaches may get carried away with their expectations for you, but it’s just because they’re so excited to see you succeed. Just be the player you know how to be, and your achievements will speak for themselves.”

“Thank you, Mason,” you whispered after pondering his words for a moment. No words could express the gratitude you felt for the relief he had brought you just by letting you know that he was there and he understood. But as he squeezed your shoulders lightly in response, you hoped he knew just how thankful you were.

Eventually, Mason helped you to your feet, guiding you back toward the fields. You were still feeling a bit weak and unsteady, so he made sure you remained upright with a gentle hold on your arm as you walked. Deciding it was time for you to call it a day, he insisted on collecting the cones that you had been training with, not allowing you to help him by picking up even one of them.

It took some convincing but you told him you would be fine to drive yourself home—his only condition was that you texted to let him know you made it there safely.

“Alright, then. Rest on your day off tomorrow. Give yourself a break, okay?” he spoke as he put the last of the cones away. “I’ll check in with you on Monday, if that’s okay.” He didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. The two of you had been friendly before today, but you wouldn’t have considered yourselves close friends. He just wanted to be sure that you knew you had people in your corner.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot,” you nodded, smiling at him. With a final hug, he sent you on your way as he turned to rejoin his (undoubtedly confused) teammates where he had left them.

“Remember: rest!” he shouted back at you as you parted ways, and you couldn’t stop the blushing smile that worked its way onto your face.

tag list: @landoslover @chelseagirl98 @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @bracedes @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti

[slippinmickeys]

The Unseelie Court (12/16)

As the clock drifted closer to 5:00 pm, the air in their office became a little thinner, a little less fraught. They had both come down from the excitement in Skinner’s office and had finally settled into a comfortable silence. One that Mulder eventually mustered the courage to break. 

“Do you want to come over tonight?” he asked, feeling somewhat sheepish. He could think of nothing better than spending a Friday evening with Scully, of waking up late, whiling away the day in bed for the whole of the weekend. 

Scully smiled at him. “I wish I could,” she said. “But I promised my mom I’d head up to Baltimore tonight. She committed to bringing the baked goods to St. Agatha’s on Sunday and I promised I’d help her bake.” 

Mulder’s heart fell and it must have shown in his face. 

“I might be able to get out of services if I tell her I have to work,” she said. “Maybe I can get back into town tomorrow afternoon.”

That would still give them an uninterrupted 24 hours. 

“I’ll make it worth your while.” 

“I’ll remember you said that.” 

***

“Do you remember Teddy Abernathy?” Her mother asked in a delicate tone that meant that she was meddling and was more than aware she was doing it. “He’ll be at church on Sunday, and I thought I might reintroduce you.”

They sat at Margaret Scully’s small kitchen table, having eaten a casserole and a simple green salad. Nevertheless, her mother had set out her good china, and a vase of cut hydrangeas overwhelmed one end of the table, the flowers having turned from pink to green in the light of the late summer sun. 

“Is he the one with male pattern baldness or the one with the weird underbite?” Scully asked cheekily, standing up to collect the two delicate plates and trundle them to the frothy sink. 

Maggie scoffed. “He’s the ophthalmologist with a summer home in Rhode Island,” she said tartly, reaching for her glass of chablis. “He’s also a very nice man.”

‘Nice,’ was usually Mom code for ‘devout.’ 

Scully began scooping the leftover casserole into tupperware so that it could cool. It wasn’t the first time her mother had tried to play matchmaker, but it was the first time she’d done so while Scully was in a relationship with Mulder. 

“Mom, I appreciate you looking out for me,” she said from the sink. “But I’m not in the market right now.” A spoon she was holding slipped from her hand and disappeared into the suds. 

It felt odd to be on her own after several consecutive days and nights spent in Mulder’s company. Coming to Baltimore had been a rapid depressurization from the immersion, and she found herself suffering a kind of nitrogen narcosis, fumbling her way through a conversation she didn’t want to be having, her fine motor coordination on the fritz.

“You work too much,” her mother went on. “It doesn’t have to be anything serious, but there’s no harm in seeing what’s out there. If you want a family—”

“Mom—” she said, the word coming out more sharply than she'd meant it to. 

Maggie pulled back, miffed, and Scully sighed and walked back to the table, sliding back into her chair with an eye to making amends. 

“I know you’re just trying to help,” she said, reaching out and giving her mother’s hand a brief squeeze. 

“I shouldn’t have mentioned your having a family, Dana,” Maggie said, accepting the olive branch. “That wasn’t fair of me.” Scully pressed her lips together, remembering her mother’s reaction to Emily. “It’s just–I want you to be happy. I want you to have a full life. Dating someone can—”

“I am dating someone.” She wasn’t sure why she said it. Maybe to just get her mother to stop, maybe because it was nice to actually say out loud. 

Her mother’s face changed from one of concern and sympathy to pleased curiosity. Scully instantly knew she should have kept her mouth shut. 

“How did you meet?” 

There was no getting out of it, now. 

“Work,” she said, standing up once again and busying herself, grabbing the last of the dinner dishes to take them over to the sink. 

“Dare I hope it’s a charming prosecutor with his sights set on the gubernatorial office?” her mother joked. 

“It is not,” she said, knowing she was committed now to having this conversation. 

“Is it—” her mother started, and then stopped. “Oh. Dana.”

Scully turned to her mother, confirming her suspicions with a look. 

Margaret Scully took a deep breath and then set her glass of wine onto the table with calm precision. 

“How long?” she asked. 

“Not very,” Scully answered, leaning back against the countertop. 

“And does he make you happy?”

Scully didn’t have to think very long before answering. “Yes,” she said, her head dipping down to look at the floor.

“He loves you,” her mother said, a statement. 

Scully nodded, unable to meet her mother’s eye. 

A moment later, Margaret was standing in front of her, had reached out and had her hand on Scully’s cheek, lifting her head so that she could look her in the eye. 

“Loving a man like that…” her mother started, then sighed. “I knew a lot of Navy wives. A lot of Navy pilots. They were all good men, but some of them…some of them flew too close to the sun.” She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “Be careful.”

***

Discomfited, Scully retired early. She wanted some time to herself, and she was also expecting the blood test results on Daly Carmichael from the state crime lab. She fired up her laptop, but nothing had yet come in. Maybe tomorrow. 

Her mother’s guest room was an amalgamation of furniture from each of her children’s past. The wardrobe in the corner had been Charlie’s, the dresser, Bill’s. She lay back in the brass queen bed trying not to think about all the nights her sister had slept in it. 

Without really thinking about it, she grabbed her phone and called Mulder. He picked up after the first ring. 

“Hey,” he said, his voice warm as soft flannel. “You make it up there okay?”

“Yes,” she said. “The beltway was a nightmare, but I got here in time for dinner.”

Her mother’s house had a quiet, homey atmosphere, insulated from the greater world. It gave an air of being muffled and warm, where the loudest thing was the ticking of a mantle clock and the oven light gave a reassuring yellow glow even at midnight. It was a place that always smelled like paraffin wax candles and roast chicken, a place that felt like a hug the moment you stepped into it.

“How’s your mom?” Mulder asked politely. 

“Good,” Scully said, settling back to listen to the pleasant drone of Mulder’s voice. “She wants to set me up with an ophthalmologist.”

“Maybe that’s not a bad idea,” he said. “Your last firearms qualification score was 98. Not your usual 100. Might be time to upgrade those specs.”

“You’re a riot,” she deadpanned. 

Downstairs she could hear her mother turn on the dishwasher and moments later pad up the stairs and past Scully’s door. 

“Let me guess,” Mulder went on. “Upstanding churchgoer? Drives a Benz?”

“Catholic as the Pope,” Scully confirmed. “Not sure about the Benz, but he’s got a summer house in Rhode Island.”

“So do I,” Mulder breezed. “If that’s the sum total of necessary qualifications to date a Scully woman, I could—”

“I told her about us,” Scully interrupted him. 

“You…did?” he seemed genuinely taken aback. 

“It was either that or agree to an Italian dinner in Inner Harbor with a balding eye doctor.”

Scully imagined sitting across the table from a quiet-spoken and affable Teddy Abernathy. He’d make polite conversation and cover the bill, but he wouldn’t request a table so they could both see the door. He wouldn’t call her with a random bit of esoterica in the middle of the night, wouldn’t lift a string of barbed wire so she could scoot under, wouldn’t wordlessly hand over a Red Vine the very moment her blood sugar dipped below 70.

“You’re going to make your own decisions, but personally I would have taken the free branzino for a week or two before breaking the bad news to my mom. Prescription sunglasses ain’t cheap. And it’s not like you’d have had to put out. Good Catholics save themselves for marriage, you know.”

“Someone should have told me that a few weeks ago. Now I’m never getting into heaven.”

Mulder chuckled drowsily in her ear. 

“How’d she take it?” he asked kindly. 

Scully sighed, didn’t want to tell him that her mom had been a little reticent. “She’s worried Bill’s going to take a swing at you at Thanksgiving.”

“All I’m hearing is that it went well enough that I’m invited to Thanksgiving.”

“That’s your takeaway?”

“I’m an optimist.”

Scully smiled into the receiver and yawned. “Listen,” she said. “Mom and I are going to get started here early. I got out of Sunday mass. I was hoping to get on the road around noon.”

“You want to come directly here?” His voice was tender and rumbly. 

“I was told it would be worth my while,” she said suggestively.

There was nothing but hissing silence for a moment. She could picture him on his couch with his phone to his ear, the front of his jeans getting tight with pressure. 

“Shit, Scully.” 

She smiled. “I’ll call you before I leave, give you an ETA.”

“Okay,” he said, all his clever quips used up. 

“Goodnight, Mulder.”

She pressed the button before he had a chance to respond, smiling to herself. It was fun to be on the giving end of teasing for once. 

Looking one last time at the display on her phone, she frowned. It was nearly out of battery. And she’d left the charging cord she normally traveled with at the motel in Adrian County. Sighing, she turned off the phone in an effort to preserve whatever battery life remained. It would be an analog weekend until she got to Mulder’s.

***

Scully was frosting the final cupcake as her mother slid the last two pies into the oven. 

“You were always the most efficient of my children,” her mother said. “But that would have impressed even an admiral.”

Scully smiled and set the finished cupcake on the paper shopping bag her mother was using to receive them. It was 11:45 am. 

“Are you sure you can’t stay for the afternoon and help me carry all these into mass tomorrow?” her mother asked hopefully. 

“I need to get back,” Scully said, and her mother smiled knowingly. 

“How about I box up a half dozen of these and you can take them to Fox,” she said, nodding toward the cupcakes. 

“Mom—”

“I want to!” her mother said, all enthusiasm. 

She’d been downright chipper about Scully’s new relationship all morning long, no doubt trying to make up for her lack of enthusiasm the night before. 

“Let me grab one of the Christmas tins. I think they’re in the basement.”

Maggie was down the stairs before Scully could argue, and she heard her banging around and opening various boxes. 

Scully’s overnight bag and laptop case were packed and next to the door waiting for her. She’d slept terribly the night before, her rest beset by nightmares from the fairy grove. Not only had Mulder been branded in her dreams by the Unseelie courtier’s symbol, this time he had been chained to the tree, his two different colored eyes boring into hers. “Stay away!” he’d warned her when she tried to get close to free him. She’d startled awake and considered calling him, only to remember that she barely had any charge on her phone. 

Another bang echoed up from the basement.

“Mom, can I give you a hand?” she called down the stairs.

“No, I know right where it is!” came Maggie’s muffled voice. 

If the sounds drifting up the stairs were any indication, that probably wasn’t the case. Scully sighed. Then, eyeing her luggage, she grabbed her laptop and set it up on her mother’s kitchen table, figuring she had at least enough time to check her email to see if the Carmichael bloodwork labs had come back. Mulder would want her to walk him through them, even if they showed nothing. 

Sure enough, there was a new email waiting for her from the state crime lab. She opened the attachment and scanned the results, her brow creasing more and more as she read each line. 

“Found it!” Her mother said from the top of the stairs, startling her. She was holding a small Christmas cookie tin. When she looked at Scully’s face, her smile faded. 

“Dana?” she said. 

“Mom,” Scully said. “I need to use your phone.”

[bestillmyslashyheart]

so the Eagles won the Super Bowl...

"This is the greatest night of my life," Michael laughed. Alex kicked at him lightly and he quickly amended himself. "After our wedding of course."

"Of course," Alex agreed.

Around them, the bar exploded yet again as DeVonta Smith made an impossible catch for a touchdown. Both Michael and Patrick were on their feet in an instant yelling at the TV before turning to each other and hugging tightly. Bright grins lit up both of their faces.

"If only they loved us that much," Patrick's wife Carrie murmured to Alex as the pair started jumping and dancing. Alex snorted into his drink.

"At least we're a close second." As he spoke, Michael finally released Patrick and turned to Alex, cupping his face and pressing a firm kiss to his lips.

"This is amazing." He couldn't stop smiling and Alex was helpless not to smile in return.

"It is," he agreed. He may not love the Eagles half as much as Michael and Patrick but he could fully appreciate watching the Chiefs get utterly destroyed in the biggest game of the year: 34-0 was a truly beautiful score. And watching the game in Philly was a special experience. They almost hadn't been able to make it, things in Roswell somehow conspiring to stop them, but they'd made the flight to Philadelphia early Friday. Patrick and Carrie had flown in that afternoon and they'd been able to spend the weekend catching up with Patrick's family and enjoying the city. His parents had offered to host a watch party for the game but both Patrick and Michael had politely refused: they wanted to be in the city, around other die hards, regardless of the outcome.

Looking around the crowded bar, Alex decided that he didn't hate it. He hadn't been thrilled about the decision, not in the mood for a huge crowd that had a good chance of turning angry, but the energy and joy filling the building was infectious. Even Carrie, who couldn't care less about football but was a good sport about it, was smiling.

Boos erupted around them as the Chiefs finally made their first real play of the game and Alex joined them. Carrie's shoulders bumped into his as she laughed quietly. Michael and Patrick were stood in front of their table loudly jeering at the screen with a few of their new friends from the neighboring tables. Every now and then Michael would look back at Alex with a smile still plastered on his face, as if to check that Alex was still there. After the fourth time, Alex shifted his chair so he could reach out one leg to tap it against Michael's. Michael looked down at it then back at Alex but Alex just jutted his chin at the TV and Michael refocused his attention. Neither moved their legs.

"Fumble!!" The bar erupted yet again. This time, everybody was hugging everybody. Someone knocked into the back of Alex and arms came around him in a brief hug as they screamed and cheered into his ear. They were gone again as fast as they had appeared and then it was Patrick who had his arms around Alex, squeezing him and Carrie into his arms as he cheered. His eyes were suspiciously watery even as his smile threatened to break his face.

"You ok?" Alex laughed.

"It's just so beautiful," Patrick sniffled. "Even better than I could have dreamed."

Michael plopped himself into Alex's lap, an arm around his shoulders, and pushed Patrick off. "The celebration is going to be insane," he commented mildly. Deceptively.

Alex eyed him then looked at Patrick. "What are the odds we end up in jail tonight?"

Patrick waved him off. "The cops won't care. This is Philly. And we're about to be Super Bowl champs. A little mayhem and destruction is practically expected."

The guys stayed actually stayed at the table with them for the next few drives. The smiles never left their faces and they barely looked away from the screens around them but it was still nice. Michael's chair had disappeared early into the night once it was clear Michael intended to stand and yell at the TV all night so Michael stayed planted on Alex's lap.

Until he suddenly stood up and leaned forward, trying to peer at the screen. "Is that-" he started. "It is! Kenny Pickett! We put the backups in!"

The bar erupted yet again. Before tonight, no one would have dreamed of a scenario where the Eagles were so far ahead that they could rest their star players because they were no longer needed. The Chiefs scored again but other than a chorus of boos, no one cared. The Eagles had won.

After that, they followed the crowd out into the streets, thankful that it was a relatively mild night for February, and were immediately swept into the city-wide party.

Later, so much later that sunrise was nearly on the horizon, they finally made it back to their hotel. Alex expected to collapse straight onto the bed, his whole body aching with how tired he was but Michael had different plans. He pressed Alex against the wall as soon as the door was closed and suddenly Alex was wide awake. His leg still hurt but that stopped being a problem when Michael hoisted him up into his arms and carried him over to the bed. As soon as they were horizontal, Alex felt Michael's powers work their way over his prosthetic in familiar movements to ease it off of him. He practically moaned with relief when it was off. His moan quickly changed to one of pleasure when Michael latched on to the under side of his jaw.

"How do you still have the energy for this?" He half laughed even as he rolled his hips up into Michael's.

Michael pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. "The Eagles won the Super Bowl," as if Alex wasn't well aware, "we have to celebrate."

Alex laughed. "Isn't that what we just spend the last 6 hours doing?" He ran his hands down Michael's back until he could slip them under his shirt and run them back up.

"That was different. That was a Philly celebration. This is ours." With that, he was clearly done talking and Alex couldn't even pretend to argue with him further.

The sun was fully in the sky by the time they dropped off to sleep, Michael glaring the curtains closed from the comfort of the bed.

(as always, on ao3)

[zenithangelic]

Ghostface!Tamara Carpenter x Oblivious Reader (reader is completely unaware of what Tamara is up to and whenever it feels like Reader is about to discover something, Tam manages to distract em with something else)

Unseen Shadows (Ghostface!Tara Carpenter x Oblivious!Reader):

You are blissfully unaware of the danger lurking around you, completely oblivious to the twisted game that Tara Carpenter has been playing for weeks. Every time you get close to uncovering something—every time your suspicion begins to creep in—she’s always there, pulling you away with a smile or a gesture so natural, so charming, that you find yourself distracted again. Little do you know, Tara’s not just the sweet, slightly sarcastic girl you’ve grown to trust. She’s hiding something much darker beneath the surface.

It’s a late Friday afternoon, and you’re walking through the familiar hallways of Tara's apartment building. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you pull it out, glancing at the message from Tara.

Hey, come over? I could use a distraction.

You smile, typing back quickly.

I’m on my way ♥

Tara always seems to have an effect on you—she makes everything feel lighter, brighter, as if her presence alone could make any bad day fade away.

As you arrive at her door, you knock three times, and she opens it almost instantly, flashing you one of her signature grins. She’s wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, looking like she just rolled out of bed, but there’s something about her that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Hey,” she greets, leaning against the doorframe. “You’re a lifesaver. I swear, I’ve been dying from boredom all day.”

You chuckle, stepping inside. “It’s only been, like, what—two hours since we last talked?”

She shrugs, locking the door behind you. “Exactly. Too long. I need a little… you time.” Tara steps aside to let you in, but something about the way she’s acting feels a little… off. You don’t question it, though. It’s Tara—she’s always been like this: intense in a way you never quite understood.

You sit on the couch, and she joins you, her legs tucked underneath her as she stares at you with a soft smile.

“So, what’s up?” you ask, pulling your knees up to your chest. “You seem a little… different today. What’s going on?”

Tara raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eyes. “Different? Me? I’m the same as always. You’re just imagining things.”

You shake your head, feeling a slight unease. “No, seriously. You’re acting like you’re keeping something from me. I can tell when you’re hiding something, you know.”

Tara’s grin widens at your words. It’s almost too wide, but you don’t pick up on the warning signs. “What, you think I’m some kind of mystery? Maybe I just wanted some company.”

You narrow your eyes, but before you can respond, the doorbell rings, interrupting the tension building between you two.

“That’ll be pizza,” Tara says quickly, standing up. “I’ll grab it. Stay here.”

You’re about to ask what kind of pizza she ordered, but she’s already gone, her footsteps retreating down the hallway to answer the door.

You lean back, trying to shake off the odd feeling that’s been creeping up your spine. But when Tara returns, pizza box in hand, she’s back to her usual self—bubbly and carefree. She hands you a slice with a wink.

“See? You were just imagining things. Everything’s fine. Pizza, good company, a little bit of fun. What more could you want?”

You smile back, grateful for her ability to smooth over any awkwardness. She’s right. Maybe you are overthinking it. Tara’s always been good at making things feel light.

A few days later, you find yourself hanging out with Tara again, and something about her behavior is more odd than before. She’s been keeping her distance, her eyes darting around whenever you ask her a personal question. You don’t think much of it—after all, she’s always been a bit elusive—but you can’t shake the feeling that there’s something she’s not telling you.

You sit on the couch, flipping through a magazine, when you hear the faintest sound from the hallway. It’s a whisper, but it’s too muffled for you to understand. You glance toward the door, wondering if Tara is talking to someone.

You call out, “Tara? Who’s here?”

The door to her room creaks open, and Tara steps in, a little too quickly. “Oh, it’s just me,” she says, her smile forced. “I was—uh—just on a call with some friends. Nothing important.”

You nod, but the nagging feeling in the back of your mind doesn’t go away. You feel like something is wrong, but every time you try to dig deeper, Tara distracts you with something else.

She sits down next to you, and for a second, you feel like everything’s okay again. Tara always knows how to make you feel comfortable, how to erase the doubts that plague you.

Then, without warning, her phone buzzes. She picks it up, glances at the screen, and her face momentarily stiffens before she laughs, quickly shoving the phone back into her pocket.

“Who was that?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

Tara lets out a soft laugh, brushing off the question. “Just some random number. No biggie.” She quickly changes the subject. “So, have you seen that new show everyone’s talking about? It’s so good.”

You don’t press the matter, distracted by her sudden shift. She’s so good at this—at turning the conversation just when it feels like you’re about to catch on.

A week passes, and your unease grows. You begin to notice small things that don’t add up—Tara disappearing for longer periods, her odd phone habits, the way she always seems to be looking over her shoulder when you’re together. There’s a tension between you two now that wasn’t there before, but you can’t bring yourself to ask her about it directly.

One night, you’re sitting in a dimly lit café, just the two of you, and Tara seems unusually quiet. The air is thick with unspoken words, and you can feel it. This time, you won’t let her distract you.

“Tara,” you say slowly, staring at her. “What’s going on? You’re acting weird again. What aren’t you telling me?”

Tara’s eyes flicker, but only for a moment. She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Nothing’s going on, I promise. You’re overthinking it. You know I’m always like this. What did I tell you? Mystery girl, remember?”

But you’re not buying it. You can see it in her eyes now—the barely concealed tension, the way her fingers tap nervously against the table.

Before you can say anything else, a man in a hoodie walks by the table, and Tara freezes for a fraction of a second, a jolt running through her.

You’re about to ask her what’s wrong when she suddenly grabs your hand, her grip tight. “Come on,” she says quickly, her voice sharp. “Let’s get out of here. I don’t like this place anymore.”

You nod, but the knot in your stomach tightens. You can feel something is wrong—something is off about Tara. But she’s already pulling you out of the café, distracting you once again with her charm and her warmth, as if everything is fine.

The following days blur together. Every time you get close to uncovering the truth about Tara, she distracts you. A new movie, a spontaneous trip, a surprise gift—all designed to keep you from asking questions. You’re too entranced by her, too lost in the warmth of her smile, to realize just how deeply she’s pulling you into her web.

And Tara, with her Ghostface mask hidden beneath her bed, smiles to herself, knowing that the truth will remain buried—at least for now. She’s in control, and you’re none the wiser.

♡If you liked this fic, please consider buying me a coffee! Ko-fi ♡

[hwsforeignrelations]

@usukweek Day 1: Roadtrip

Summary: Stressed campaign manager Alfred F. Jones and lawyer Arthur Kirkland coincide in a diner booth outside Washington DC.

AO3 Link // Words: 1,177

Nestled in a corner booth at Potomac Mills’ Silver Diner, campaign manager Alfred F. Jones sipped from an iconicly mediocre coffee at 10:30pm on a Friday evening.

The glossy jukebox near the register belted Elvis Presley hits on repeat and Jones idly tapped his thigh to the beat, breath fogging up the window in front of him with puffs of breath.

Jones exhaled a sigh, the gust of air escaping straight from his soul.

He ached with something deeper than he ever wanted to feel, especially near the end of campaign season when his work demanded a surplus of vigor.

Today had not been a good day. Ben and Jerry (yup, that Ben and Jerry) kept him busy all afternoon with bizarre advertisement concepts (one of which involved customized wrapped cars with their candidate’s face plastered on the hood.)

Epic, of course, but Jones knew no one would agree and had had the sad job of talking two elderly, enthused men out of an idea he knew to be brilliant.

Just as Jones finished his last sip of coffee and was sorting through his wallet to pay, the shadow of someone loomed over his table to block out the orange diner lights. “Jones, was it?” The accent was that London-posh from the BBC. It sounded vaguely familiar. “It was,” Alfred smiled and looked up. “Hot-shot attorney Arthur Kirkland, yea?”

They shook hands and Arthur took a seat across from him. A slice of warm, a la mode cherry pie slid onto the table with two spoons. “Thought I saw your sad face in the window. I wanted to offer my condolences on the state of American politics.” Kirkland's expression was flat as he spoke, and although Jones often struggled to detect British-style sarcasm, he was 87% sure Kirkland was being sardonic. Alfred was offered a cheap, stainless-steel spoon and the blue-eyed American was all-too-happy to indulge his opposing candidate's lawyer.

“It ain’t all that bad,” Jones offered, hum-ing in appreciation at the sweet tartness of cherry filling hitting his tongue. “No different from the usual, anyways.”

Kirkland raised his, ah-hem, influential eyebrows but didn’t respond, taking another bite into his mouth. The sass was so unexpected and Alfred snorted, unable to contain himself.

Jones’ laughter bounced off the booth walls and Arthur jumped. The campaign manager continued through broken chuckles, “Heh- Don’t act all British-hoity-toity on me, Arthur Kirkland. I stay on top of our friends across the pond and it ain’t all sunshine and roses.”

Kirkland took his time collecting a bite of pie and scooping ice cream on top before popping it into his mouth. “No sunshine at all, I’m sad to report. Fortunately, roses adore that delightful flash-shower humidity. I can’t say the same for myself, however excellent London theatre may be.”

“Well, I hope you’re getting out of DC. I hear DMV weather ain’t all that dissimilar.”

“No, I’m afraid you’re correct. Excuse me,” Arthur ushered a waitress towards their table. Alfred watched as the American woman’s eyes sparkled as her English customer ordered a tea. Although the diner sat only a few miles outside a major metropolitan city, not many international travelers bothered to leave, much less sit down for a Lipton tea in Woodbridge, Virginia. 

“It’ll be out in just a moment, sweetheart.”

Alfred Jones watched in amusement as Kirkland blushed in response to the pet name, waiting with unusual patience for his booth companion to continue.

Typically, the campaign manager would expect himself to contribute more. But Jones felt odd tonight. He felt tired in a way a good night’s rest wouldn’t solve, and empty in a way no pie or cigarette could fill. His inbox had emails he hadn’t responded to and messages from that morning sitting in his notifications. He sipped his coffee and wondered at the weight in his chest.

Jones might say this feeling sounded something like depression- but Alfred F. Jones wasn’t capable of anything less than mild discontent. 

He just… felt odd.

Arthur Kirkland took notice of Alfred’s lack of energy from the pensive expression and wilted shoulders and adopted a more delicate tone. “I hope I didn’t interrupt your quiet evening,” he looked away, out the window. “I won’t be offended if- I can move in case this isn’t a good time.”

Jones jumped in surprise and laughed, shaking himself of melancholy and pushing more energy into his voice, “Gosh no, that’s my bad. Just been a long week, it’s awesome meeting a friend out so far this late.”

Kirkland visibly relaxed and took his steaming cup of tea with a gentle thanks. “Terrific.”

“Say,” Alfred started, with renewed purpose to keep Kirkland engaged. “You ever been out to Shenandoah?” Arthur shook his head, curious. 

“Well, if you’re into the hiking scene there’s some gorgeous trails.”

“Have you been?”

“Sure have! I like some modest trails ‘round there, and I hiked the Appalachian Trail (stretches twenty two hundred miles from Georgia to Maine) with my brother a few summers ago. Like a hundred of those are through Shenandoah.”

“Cor!” blinked he Englsihman in surprise. His pale complexion made the oncoming blush very obvious. Kirkland confessed, “I do enjoy hiking, especially when I’m in Scotland. Though I imagine our interpretation of ‘modest’ intensity would differ.”

“Meh,” Jones shrugged, smiling. Their conversation gave the American an idea to cure his mood. They stared out the window in comfortable silence, watching cars pass by on their way home from work. Despite being late into the evening, light pollution kept the sky illuminating gently.

Lost in thought, Jones dragged his spoon across the plate and looked down in surprise to hear nothing but metal against porcelain. The plate was clean, and now it was Jones' turn to blush. He hadn’t been paying attention and likely finished the last bite. 

Looking across at his companion, Kirkland didn’t seem to notice or mind, more concerned with the empty state of his tea mug. 

“Hey, Kirkland,” the lawyer looked up. 

Jones recognized the Englishman’s tense posture and the hesitant gleam in his green eyes behind the professionally impartial suspense. Jones sensed a likewise dread for their company to end. If he was honest with himself, he hoped his observation was accurate.

Jones knew from experience that foreign travel with clients could feel isolating when the day’s business ended. Not always, but perhaps Kirkland could be amiable to his unorthodox suggestion.

“Do you have any plans for the weekend? I hear the weather’s gonna clear up till Sunday night.”

“Err, no. Can’t say that I do. I’ve been too preoccupied providing counsel this week to have made any. Do you?”

“No,” Jones smiled, “but I might have a solution to both our weekends. Tomorrow morning, wanna go on a road trip?”

The lawyer blinked and set down his empty cup, turning away to rummage in his slacks. 

Alfred taped the table impatiently, waiting for a response while Kirkland took his time extracting a twenty from his wallet. “How very American,” Kirkland smirked, looking at Jones, “What time do we leave?”

Notes:

DMV = local name for DC, Maryland and Virginia\ After spending the past year studying in DC, I took this prompt to emulate the toxic work culture, and which I think Alfred is particularly susceptible to. Compared to California (comparatively young, with a tech scene in San Francisco that depends on tech bros refusing to wear anything other than a sweatshirt to their multi-billion corporate jobs), DC’s political scene is a different language. My main intro to the world of networking was made by a close campaign manager. I was both impressed and horrified by his workload. As it turns out, DC just operates that way. Alfred would definitely thrive and tolerate it, especially because most reward arrives as human approval.   American west coast and east coast professionalism are different breeds (What do you MEAN the rockefellers just had a wedding where I stand, mr tour guide????)  Anyways, I spent time between classes hiking and sketching nature in DC’s Rock Creek Park, Virginia’s Shenandoah, and West Virginia's Harpers Ferry. Al fr fr vibes w the nature

[cherrycola27]

false god

Series Warnings: Mythology!AU. Language, alcohol, drinking. Military inaccuracies. Mutual pining, unrequited love. Allusions to and eventual smut. Minors DNI. 18+. Individual chapter warnings will come as needed. Banner Credit @thedroneranger

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Chapter 2: You Should See Me In A Crown

The rest of your first week with the Dagger Squad is spent working on team building. You spend the week being professional with them, especially Rooster. In your time, you've learned it's better not to make friends. It saves you from getting hurt.

That doesn't mean they don't try, though. Every time they go out, they invite you with them. You turn them down each time, a new excuse fed to them that seems to satisfy them.

It's been a month since you've been working with the Daggers, and you've settled in nicely. This week, you've been working in the classroom with Maverick. It's a nice change of pace and gets you far away from Rooster.

He's been nothing but nice to you this month, and you aren't sure how someone who's faces so much loss in his life can be so kind. You've never seen him be anything but kind to his teammates. Sure, he and Jake shoot the breeze and tease each other relentlessly, but there's no animosity behind it.

When the squad is at the Hard Deck, it seems like he knows everyone. People are just drawn to him. He has a light that shines from with in, just like—

Stop, don't go there

When Friday comes around, you're scheduled for an early morning hop with Hangman and then an afternoon one with Rooster.

As much as you don't want to be, you're excited to fly with Bradley. It scares you, if you're being honest.

It would be so much easier for you to deny the feelings you have for Rooster if he acted like Jake did.

Unfortunately, he was just shy of perfect. You knew that Aphroditie had to be pulling some strings and laughing as she watched you try to resist.

Bradley was kind, smart, and had an infectious personality. He was a ray of sunshine. A golden boy who rivaled Apollo himself, and you—you were darkness, chaos, death. You were a monster. And he needed to be protected from you and the pain you would inevitably cause him.

He's too good for you

You shook the thoughts from your head as you geared up to fly.

You would be working against Bob, Phoenix, and Hangman. Your goal was to take them down, theirs was to take you down.

In theory, they should have been able to do it. Two against one seemed like pretty good odds. However, Jake still had a lot to learn about teamwork. From what you've been told and what you've read, he'd gotten better at it, but when it came down to it, he was still self-centered. Today was going to be a good opportunity to teach him a lesson.

You were cruising along under them when a wicked idea came to mind.

"Hey, Hangman, what do you say we make a little wager?" You purred into your headset. "Oh, you know I'm a betting man, Hades, what do you have in mind?" He asked you.

"You take me down, and I'll let you take my Rover for the weekend. I know you have a giant hard-on for it." You goad him.

"Ohhh, I like that idea. Now if by some chance I don't, what do you get out of this?" He shoots back. "You have to stop hitting on me, because it's never going to happen." You state.

You'd rather swim in the River Styx

"Deal." Jake answers quickly. "Perfect." You reply.

God, he was making this too easy

"Fights on!" You tell him and Phoenix before popping out from under them.

"Hades? In front of us? Really, you're making this too easy!" Jake snickers.

You smirk to yourself. You've got him right where you want him. You quickly change gears in your jet and take off, leaving both of the other planes in the dust.

Jake follows hot on your tale, leaving Phoenix and Bob behind. You can hear both of them swear at Jake. You quickly break right and circle back to them.

Phoenix tries to shake you, but it's no use. "Sorry, Nix and Bob." You tell them before tones ring out.

You can hear the radar warning that Jake is on your tail. He thinks he's got you, but boy is he wrong.

You swoop left and right again and again. Jake can't get a lock on you.

You quickly climb up towards the clear blue sky.

"Phoenix, I can't see her! How close am I?" He asked her. "Phoenix?!"

"I'm dead, dick head." She calls back to him.

You laugh to yourself. This is exactly what you planned. You invert your jet and double back over his head. The glare of the sun provides a cover for you as you level out and drop into the pocket behind him undetected.

Hangman is good. You'll give him that. But you weren't just the queen of the Underworld. You were the queen of the skies, too.

"Hades! Where the fuck are you?" Jake huffs out.

Jake struggles in the sun and levels out. You take the chance to pop back up behind him.

"Right here!" You shout as you pop up and light him up with tones. He lets out a string of curses before banking left and heading into land.

You don't see him, but Bradley is in the rec room listening in on the exercise. He beams with pride when he hears you take out Jake.

"See you in the afterlife, Bagman." Bob chuckles.

"Alright. That's enough for now. Let's bring it in." You say.

As soon as you get out of your jet, everyone starts to high five you for besting Jake. You all break for lunch, groups heading off in different directions to eat.

You grab your lunchbox from the fridge and a book from your locker before heading to the rec room which is thankfully empty right now.

You'd just sat down and cracked the cover of your book and kicked your feet up in a chair when you heard the door open and a set of heavy boots on the floor. You don't look up. You already know who it is.

Sigh

"Can I help you with something, Rooster?" You ask, eyes not leaving your page. "I was hoping I could have lunch with you?" He asks.

You sigh and look up from your book. He's standing there with his lunch box in hand, looking at you with those damn baby-cow eyes and a small smile. You can't help but give in.

Good Gods, why did he have to be so handsome?

You take your feet off the chair and nod that it's okay for him to sit. You bookmark your page and set it to the side. He smiles bigger before sitting down and looking at the cover of your book.

Maybe he won't talk to you

"A Good Girls Guide to Murder?" He asks you, looking at the cover with a quirked eyebrow.

"I love a good murder mystery. I like trying to figure out the ending before the author reveals it." You shrug before taking a bite of the wrap you packed.

"Why do you try to do that?" Bradley asks you as he pulls out what is supposed to be a sandwich, but looks more like a toddler's art project.

"I don't like surprises." You tell him honestly. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to come off harsh, but Rooster, what the fuck is that?" You ask as you point to his pitiful excuse for lunch.

He laughs and rakes a hand over his face. "'It was supposed to be a club sandwich, but I was in a rush this morning, and I may have accidentally set my gym bag on my lunch box during my drive here, and so now it's— I don't even know. If you think this looks bad, you should see pretzels."

You can't help but snort out a laugh at his misfortune. You watch him struggle to separate the layers of his sandwich from the plastic wrap. You give him a few minutes before taking pity on him and snatching it out of his hand and tossing it in the trash can.

"Hey! I was going to eat that!" He jokingly scolds you.

You roll your eyes at him before unzipping your lunch box. You were sure you'd regret this later, but you needed him properly fueled up for flying with you, that's why you were doing this.

Maybe a friendship wouldn't be so bad

"Here," you say as you extend the extra wrap you had packed towards him.

"Thank you, but I can't take your food." Bradley politely declines.

"You can, and you will. That's an order from your superior officer. Can't have you flying with me at anything less than you best." You firmly state.

"Yes, Ma'am, Commander." Bradley relents. There's an edge of something in his voice when he calls you by your rank. It's smoother than how he normally addresses you. If you didn't know any better, you'd say that there was a hint of desire in it.

No, don't go there. He's just messing with you

He leans forward and takes the wrap from your hands. His eyes linger on your for just a moment linger than necessary. You can feel a flush creeping up your cheeks. You quickly settle back in your chair and clear your throat.

"It's spicy." You blurt out. Rooster looks at you confused. "The wrap. It's spicy. It's buffalo chicken. Sorry, I should have told you that before." You shake your head.

"No worries. I love spicy things. The hotter, the better." You winks at you. He honest to gods winks at you.

Is he flirting with you right now?

You open your mouth for a witty comeback, but you can't think of one. You're too focused on watching him take a generous bite of the lunch you've offered him. You transfixed as he lets out an appreciative groan.

"'Holy shit, this is fantastic. You make this yourself?" Rooster asks you after he swallowed another bite.

"Yeah, I love cooking." You spit out. His happy little sounds he makes when he his eating has you flustered for the first time in a very long time.

You haven't felt like this since you were a young God, lying in a wildflower field, your head in Persephone's lap as she braided poppies in your hair and hummed under her breath. It makes your heart ache that he's so much like her.

For a fleeting moment, you wonder if she knows about Bradley. You wonder if she sits on her flower throne and looks down upon you to see what you're up to. You wonder if she misses you.

But then you think better of it. She has no reason to miss you. Not after—

She doesn't miss you

No one does

"Hades, you ready to go?" Bradley asks as he pulls you from your thoughts.

"What?" You ask him, not sure what he just said.

"Our hop is in forty-five minutes. We might want to suit up." Bradley tells you.

"Oh, yeah." I'll meet you in the hanger." You say before quickly gathering your things.

"Thanks again for lunch!" Bradley calls behind you as you bolt for the locker room. Thankfully, it's empty when you go in there. You shove your belongings away before dashing over to a sink and splashing some cold water on your face. It sizzles and turns to steam in an instant.

"Stop it!" You yell at your reflection in the mirror. "Stop letting a silly mortal throw you off." You say to yourself. "Feelings are for the weak. Love and desire will only hold you back or hurt you." You say before shaking your head. You splash some more cold water on your cheeks. As much as you want to give into the desire that is sparking, you know it's a bad idea. You gave in once, and look where that got you.

But you like the way he makes you feel

You like that he isn't afraid of you

You roll your shoulders back and compose yourself before heading out of the locker room. Your sleek black helmet with neon blue flames and letters bearing your call sign is tucked up under your arm.

Rooster is chatting with Maverick inside the open hanger when you meet up with them.

"You ready for this test run? You and Rooster will be working together to try and take me down." Maverick says.

"I've been told no one has been able to take you out, sir. I hope you're ready for that winning streak to come to an end." You tell Maverick with a serious look. He laughs at your enthusiasm.

Before the three of you head to your planes, you quickly blink three times to make their lifetime counters appear.

Maverick's is unchanged from the last time you saw him, but your heart drops when you look at Bradley's. The nearly fifty years he had this morning had now been replaced with a little over an hour. That meant something was going to happen during your hop.

No. You couldn't let that happen

"Wait!" You screech. Both men turn to look at you. "I haven't done my preflight check. Have you?" You ask them.

"'Lieutenant Myers, from mantanince gave them a once over for us during our lunch. We should be fine." Maverick assures you.

"Still, I think we should go over them again just to be safe." You try to persuade them as you watch Bradley's timer dwindle.

"Hades, Lieutenant Myers knows what he's doing." Rooster tries to convince you.

"I—I just have a gut feeling. Call me crazy. I'll make you a deal. We do a deep check on the aircrafts. If everything is fine, drinks are on me tonight at the Hard Deck. If something is off, we can prevent anything bad from happening." You say.

"Fine. I guess double checking couldn't hurt." Maverick reluctantly agrees.

The three of you spend the next half hour going over your jets. Well—you pretend to be. You're more focused on Rooster's time clock. It still hadn't gone back up. If it didn't before the flight, you'd have to be extra vigilant during the hop to make sure nothing happens to him.

You're checking some gears when you hear Bradley call out. "Oh shit. That's not fucking good."

You and Maverick both cone around to see what he's talking about. You don't really care what it is. You're more concerned with his clock. You turn the corner of your plane and see that his timer has gone back up. You breathe a sigh of relief.

"What's wrong?" You ask him.

"The fuel line is loose. If I had taken this in the air, it probably would have detached, and I would have been screwed. Mav, you need to talk to Lieutenant Myers and make sure he knows what he's doing." Bradley says as he stands there with his hands on his hips.

"Well, Rooster, you're definitely grounded for the rest of the day. It looks like we will have to reschedule the software test because it's a three pilot job." Maverick sighed.

"Damn, I was really looking forward to Hades and I kicking your ass old man." Rooster laughs.

"Well, we still have the range for the rest of the afternoon. Are you two up for something fun?" Maverick says in a low voice with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Define 'fun'." You say as you turn to him. "I was thinking a little ace versus ace action Hades. You and me, first one to get missile lock on the other wins. I've seen you fly. I know you're good, kid. But I want to know if you can beat the best." Maverick smirks at you.

"What's the wager?" You ask him.

"200 push-ups and bragging rights?" Maverick propositions you.

"500, bragging rights, and a joyride in your P-51 I've heard so much about." You counter.

"Deal." You and Maverick shake hands.

"What about me?" Rooster throws up his hands before putting him on his hips and staring the two of you down.

You pause for a moment and look around the hanger before your eyes land on Phoenix and Bob's plane. A devilish grin spreads across your face.

"Rooster, have you ever been a back seater?" You ask him with a Cheshire smile.

"Oh no, Hades, I don't like that look." He shakes his head, knowing exactly what you're thinking.

"Too bad, it's the only one I've got." You shrug before taking off towards the two seater aircraft. Bradley follows hot on your heels.

You climb into the cockpit, and both of you go over your preflight checks. "Hades, you know I'm fucking clueless back her right? My dad was a RIO, and I did not inherit his skill set." Rooster tells you as he fits his oxygen mask to his face.

"Don't worry, Roo. Just buckle up and enjoy the ride." You tell him as you head down the runway.

Wait. Are you flirting with him?

Moments later, the two of you are airborne and on the hunt for Maverick. "As far as I can tell, nothing on radar, and I don't see him." Rooster reports as he scans the sky. You acknowledge him as you do the same.

"Come on, Maverick, where are you?" You mumble. You think back to your training. If he's not on radar, he's either too far away or directly under your or above you. You doubt he is above you, so your best guess is he is flying under you just out of sight.

Trusting your guy, you climb higher. "Holy shit. Hades, what are you doing?" Rooster asks you, startled by your sudden movements.

"Trust me," you say. Once you're high enough, you invernt and, bingo. Just like you thought, Maverick is below you.

"Hang on, Rooster. I've got him, " you say before dropping down straight for Maverick.

The glare of the sun helps hide you, but Maverick is smart and sees you coming. You drop in behind him.

Rooster is shouting directions at you trying to help. He's known Maverick longer and knows his tricks.

Soon, the two of you are locked in a battle of wits. Maverick can't shake you, but you can't get a lock on him.

"I need to get him to a higher altitude. Any ideas?" You ask Rooster. "One, but you aren't going to like it." Bradley chuckles before telling you his plan. He was right, you didn't like it, you loved it.

You rose and hovered over Maverick, inverting and keeping pace with him before forcing him into a climbing cobra spiral. The two jets danced across the sky, higher and higher.

"Alright, Hades, you put us here. What's your plan?" Maverick asks as he matches you, turn for turn.

"A magician never reveals all her secrets." You tell him as you narrow your eyes.

"Now, Rooster?" You ask Bradley for confirmation.

"Now!" He confirms. One his signal, you let up of the thrust and break out of the spiral before dropping into the pocket behind Maverick. He wasn't expecting the sudden change, and it throws him off. Maverick quickly corrects himself and attempts to evade you, but it's no use. You have him right where you want him. For the first time in a year, Maverick hears the missile lock tones ring out in his head set.

"Holy shit! You got him!" Rooster cheers as he celebrates in his seat.

You wish you could turn around and see what he looks like right now. You're sure a bright smile is spread across his face just under his oxygen mask. You bring the plane in for a landing as he continues to cheer. His joyfulness is infectious.

Just like hers was.

When your boots hit the tarmac after landing, you're prepared to head to the locker room. You're making Maverick save his push-ups for Monday so everyone can watch. Rooster is itching to get to the Hard Deck to tell everyone about today, and he's eager to see you outside of your uniform.

What you weren't prepared for, however, was for Rooster to wrap his arms around you in a crushing bear hug and for him to spin you around while praising you.

You face smooshes into his chest, and you inhale his scent. He smells like jet fuel, sunshine, and poppy.

You want to fight the hug, but at the same time, you want to lean into it.

He's so warm

Something about him feels—safe

When his brain finally catches up with him, he quickly puts you down before taking a step back and looking down.

"Sorry, I—I shouldn't have done that." He apologized, scratching the back of his neck.

Do it again

"'It's fine. You were excited. No sweat." You brush him off. He sighs out an agreement, and you see the flash of hurt across his eyes.

"You were really something up there, Hades." Bradley remarks as the two of you walk towards the locker rooms.

"But, I gotta know. How did you know something was wrong with my plane?" Rooster asked you. "I just had a gut feeling. Something felt off." You shrug.

"You basically saved my life. If I'd gone up with that leaking fuel line, who knows what could have happened." Bradley said.

You know what would have happened.

"Maybe we should start calling you Angel instead of Hades." Bradley chuckles. "Seeing how you were watching out for me, it fits." You pause and stare at him.

"You know, because Hades is the God of death, but you were like a guardian angel looking out for me today." He tries to explain to you.

"Trust me, Roo. I'm no angel." You say with a hint of sadness in your voice.

"Too late." Bradley fires back. "I've already decided, that's your new nickname. Now, I will see you at the Hard Deck so we can rub it in Jake's face that you were the first one to take down Mav—Angel." Bradley smirks at you before disappearing into the men's locker room.

You shake your head

If only he knew

You quickly shower and change. You knew you were going out with the team tonight, so you remember to pack something nice to wear. You slip into a black body body suit that has a tasteful amount of cleavage that is accentuated by the lace of the bralette you have on underneath it.

A dark pair of ripped jeans and black ankle boots complete the look. You tie a flannel shirt around your waist just in case it gets chilly this evening.

You pull half of your hair up away from your face before applying some very out of regs make-up. Just because you were going there to keep up appearances didn't mean you had to look like a slob when doing it.

There was something about fashion that made you feel powerful. And if Bradley just so happened to like it and give you a little extra attention, what was the harm in that?

"And Aphroditie thinks she's the pretty one." You chuckle to yourself after you swipe your final coat of lipstick on.

.............

Jake let's out a low wolf-whistle the second he sees you approaching the corner pool table that the Daggers take up residence at every time they are at the Hard Deck.

"What do we have here? If it ain't Hades." He calls out as you approach them. "And here I thought I we were the good-looking ones, Coyote." Jake chuckles as he approaches you. You roll your eyes and grab the pool stick out of his hand.

He goes to protest, but you don't pay him any attention. You line up a shot and look up just in time to lock eyes with Rooster. You hold eye contact with him and give him a crimson smile as the ball drops into the pocket.

"Eat your heart out, Bagman." Jake stands there looking at you bewildered with some shot glasses in his hand. You take one and down the liquid before handing it back to him. "While you're doing that, I think we all could use another round. Why don't you be a dear and grab it for us. "You wink at him as you make your way around the table to Rooster.

"You sure know how to make an entrance." Bradley says as you walk up to him. You don't miss the way his eyes linger on you as he takes in your form. "You look—good." He tells you.

"Maybe if you wore something besides Hawaiian shirts and shaved that dorky mustache, you'd look good too." You tease him. A wide smile spreads over his face.

"You are something else, Angel." He laughs.

"What did I say about calling me that?" You say, putting your hands on your hips.

"And I already told you, I didn't care. What are you going to do? Pull rank on me again to get me to stop?" He states as his voice drops and octave.

You stand up on your tiptoes and whisper in his ear, "You'd like that, wouldn't you, Lieutenant Commander?" A teasing smirk tugs at the corner of your lips when you settle back down.

Okay, you were definitely flirting

Rooster cocks his head to the side before settling a hand on your hip and drawing you closer to him. You let out as surprised gasp as you feel the hairs of his mustache prickle against your ear. "Maybe I would. What are you going to do about it?" He breathes out before walking away like nothing happened.

It takes you a minute to reset your brain. You can't believe he just did that.

Oh Gods

You were fucked

...............

Later that night, you stroll down the hallway to your apartment. You fiddle with your key and unlock the door.

"Cerby, Hydra, I'm home!" You call out to your pets. Normally, your dog and cat both rush to greet you at the door, but tonight they don't.

You flick on the hall light and kick off your shoes before calling out to them. They still don't come. Your apartment is quiet—too quiet. You stay still and listen.

You run your right hand over your left forearm and pull out the dagger for your rose and dagger tattoo. The ink materializes into heavy iron and steel in your hand. You hear a commotion in the kitchen.

You stalk silently towards the room, ready to attack whoever is there. You take a deep breath before popping around the corner.

But once you do, you stop in your tracks.

"Minthe?" You ask as you see her standing in your kitchen with Cerby and Hydra.

"Hades, love, I'm so glad you're home! Why don't you take a seat. We need to talk.

Taglist: @thedroneranger @roosterscock @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @mayhemmanaged @wkndwlff @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hecate-steps-on-me @cassiemitchell @na-ta-sh-aa @milestellerlover @katieshook02 @mak-32 @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @sometimesanalice @diorrfairy @eli2447 @xoxabs88xox @djs8891 @roosters-girl @sebsxphia @rosiahills22 @dempy @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @gretagerwigsmuse @sunlightmurdock @withahappyrefrain @lt-spork @multifandomlover4life @lewmagoo @bradshawsbaby @seitmai @kmc1989 @bcarolinablr @roosterisdaddy36 @itsdesiree86 @waywardhunter95 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @whatislovevavy @asshlyyyy @inkandarsenic

[wandafiction]

Black Widow - Just Us Chapter 74

Warnings: Mentions of Abusive Relationships

Word Count: 4918

Series List | Chapter 73 | Chapter 75

================================

"So how's your week been?" I look up to the blond sat across from me taking a sip of her black coffee.

"It's been good." She curls an eyebrow at my reasons.

"Just good?"

"Yeah, it's just different."

"Different how?" 

"How much has Wanda told you?" 

"Bits and pieces, but not much since Monday." 

"So she hasn't told you about our talk we had that afternoon." The blonde shakes her head to the side.

"No, I was only there for the morning and when I left she seemed a little more at ease but was still very stiff if that makes sense." I bow my head letting out a small sigh.

"She had to come and pick me up Nat." Nat bends her head down so she is at my eye level.

"She picked you up from where?"

"The cemetery." 

"Ah. Well I don't really know anything that happened after I left. I mean she messaged me that night saying that she was staying back at her apartment and when I asked if you were there she said no. I may have bombarded her with questions but when she didn't reply I dropped it."

"So that's why you asked me today? To chew me out." I move my head to look at Nat, relaxing slightly when she smiles at me.

"Surprisingly, no. At first I thought I was, but when I saw the battle in your eyes when you greeted me I changed my mind. I'm here to listen. Wanda won't say a thing, apart from that you are both fine but I find that hard to believe."

"Well it's true we are fine."

"Your relationship is fine?"

"Yeah…"

"I sense a but coming." A huff out a laugh as I take a sip from my hot chocolate.

"But I asked for space."

"And is she respecting those boundaries?"

"She is."

"So what sort of space are we talking about?"

"We moved so fast into everything we did. We got lost in the feeling surrounding us both that we didn't take time to see how it was tearing us apart from the inside out. I practically moved in with her without us realising it. I spent every day at her apartment, and started calling it home. Now don't get me wrong it does feel like a home to me…"

"But you're not ready for it to be your home?"

"No." A lone tear runs down my face and drips onto the table. "I said I need some space away from the apartment. Maybe only stay on the weekends, like Friday and Saturday night going home Sunday morning or something. We still message each other maybe once or twice a day just to let the other know we are safe. It's odd going from seeing her everyday, to not at all."

"Yet it feels better than what you had before." Nat states.

"Yeah I don't feel so trapped by my guilt."

"You felt guilty?" 

"I feel a lot of things Natasha, guilt taking the number 1 spot. I don't feel guilty about what happened on Monday, I don't feel guilty for asking for space. I feel guilty that I am so able to freely love. I love Wanda unconditionally and at first I thought the pit in my stomach was just me being scared of losing that love. Instead it was me feeling guilty for feeling that love. My widowed brain can't seem to comprehend loving someone the way I love Wanda after losing Sarah. It just got so loud so quickly in my head that I lost every trace of myself in the process." 

"You tried to use the happiness Wanda was giving you to hide your true feelings."

"Yes and I told Wanda that, I didn't want her to feel like any of this is her fault because it's furthest from the truth."

"It's not your fault either."

"Then who's fault is it Natasha? It definitely isn't Wanda's and you're telling me it's not mine but I am having a hard time believing you when I was the one who asked for space."

"Listen Y/n. I don't know the ins and outs of your mind. I can't tell you what you can and can't do. I'm here as a friend trying to help you get back to your happiness. You asked for space, for you and only you. You needed the space so you could sort out whatever it is you are feeling so you can be the person you want to be for yourself and for Wanda. I am proud of you for being able to make that decision and be able to put your thoughts and feelings into words. I know it may be hurting you and Wanda right now having the space, but it will work out for the better. It's Friday now meaning you've slept in your own bed for 4 days, you've been away from Wanda for 4 days, you have had time to be there for yourself for 4 days. Now 4 days doesn't sound like a lot but even short amounts of time can do so much. So tell me right here how you feel at this very moment."

"Like the weight of the world isn't all on my shoulders at once, it's like there's an invisible hand helping to hold it up. I can still feel it, and it still weighs me down a lot but this week has been me doing things for myself the whole time."

"What have you done this week?" 

"I started a new drawing which is coming along nicely. It took me so many attempts to even get it started, my trash was overflowing by the time I was happy with just the outline. Oh I also spent some time with my sister, her wife and my godchild. We spent the day at the mall buying Halloween decorations and finding a costume for Monica. We had a really nice lunch, even though I felt like a little bit of a third wheel when Carol and Maria shared a milkshake it was really nice to see them again. I've been to the gym everyday. With spending so much time with Wanda I sort of let myself go a little not giving myself the time to go, so I am going to get back into it. Oh and then yesterday I booked what we needed for this Canada trip that we leave for on Sunday."

"You're still doing that?"

"Yeah, me and Wanda talked about it. We promised the boys and they have been so excited. We both know that we can't fall back into the habits of getting lost in the haze, but it will also be nice to get away from everything. It might do us some good, maybe help us figure out some more stuff about us as a family. We have both said as well that we won't spend every waking moment with one another, we will of course sleep in the same bed but there is plenty to do in and around the cabin to keep us occupied. Keep that distance between us even if we are in the same room." 

"Just don't hurt yourselves in the process of finding who you are to yourselves and one another."

"We won't, and if it starts to get overwhelming again we made a promise to tell the other person to take a step back. We both want a future together, and if working through our shit separately is the way that we can be stronger together then so be it. Both of us are ready to make the sacrifice so we can have a better future." 

"It's a mature decision that you both made, I know Wanda can be difficult to say no to sometimes. It's just that Sokovian charm she has. Just don't let her drag you down with her if she is sinking. I think she needs to sink a little to be able to grow into someone she is happy with, of course be there for her when she resurfaces. But she is going to be facing a lot of things she has never looked back on. I know she is starting therapy again which is going to help her so much. So let the therapist do their job of pulling those first few walls in her mind down and untangling some of those tangled wires before you start to.

"Wow. Are you sure you're not a therapist? This feels very much like a therapy session." Natasha laughs into her cup as she finishes off her drink.

"I am just saying it how I see it. Both of you have had abusive relationships, and are still leaving in the shadow of the person that instilled fear into you. Yours was both physical and mental while Wanda's 14 plus years of mental abuse. Now I'm not trying to compare but I'm making sure you know the facts. You both have dealt with that abuse differently, both of you are still dealing with it, Wanda is only just starting to confront it. You lost the best thing in your life, a split second they were gone you didn't get to say goodbye. Wanda's brother has been in a coma for 2 years, she is losing hope. I have no idea what else you have been through, but you are only 22 Y/n. You have been through lifetimes of hurt that no one should ever have to go through and you are trying your best to come out the other side. You need to look after yourself before you can look after anyone else. And so does Wanda. You both love each other so much, and I want to see you grow old together and have a family together. But you can't have that unless you are both in positions to allow yourself to see those futures."

"I see a future with Wanda." I jump in defensively.

"I never said you didn't. You say you see a future with Wanda, not that you want one. Your grief is still holding you back from getting the things you want. I know Wanda wants a future with you, but she will understand if need more time." 

"She is too good for her own good."

"She is, but that's because she has always had to put other people first. Both of you need to be selfish for once and say I'm doing this for no one else but myself." 

"I'm doing this for no one but myself." 

"Exactly." 

"Thank you Nat." 

"Of course. Wanda may be like a sister to me but you are my friend too. I don't want to see either of you getting hurt. I will support both of you through whatever you guys do and decide, but I will also call you out on your shit when I need to" 

"We're friends?" 

"We became friends when you told me you didn't ever want to hurt her." 

"What when we came to yours?"

"Yup." She says popping the P with a cheeky grin.

"Can we do this again?" 

"What coffee and talks?"

"Yeah." I shrug now feeling slightly embarrassed for asking. "Just I see you as a friend too, and you're really easy to talk to. You allow me to ramble my thoughts and then just help me steer myself in the right direction." 

"I will always be up for coffee and talks. But next time you're paying." She jokes.

"Deal." I see her look down at her watch.

"Isn't it about time you go and get packed and get to Wanda's?" 

"I'm only going to Wanda's tomorrow evening as our flight is early Sunday morning. It gives them tomorrow to pack everything they need and I would just be in the way." 

"Fair enough. So are you flying first class?" 

"We are. Wanda didn't want the private jet but when I offered first class she begrudgingly said yes."

"She doesn't like you spending money on her, not that much."

"No, but I've told her if she really doesn't want something I'm not going to spend the money. She may appreciate the gesture but if it makes her uncomfortable then I won't do it."

"So how did you get her to say yes to first class?" A small smirk grows on my face and she gasps. "You used the twins."

"Hey, no. They just heard me and Wanda discussing it over the phone and they begged her."

"They had their famous puppy eyes, didn't they?"

"Oh yeah. So we are flying first class to and from Canada." 

"Well I hope you guys enjoy the family time. Text me when you arrive just so I know you are all safe and if at any point you need a voice of reason phone me." Natasha stands from her chair as she places our dirty cups on the tray making it easier for the waitress.

"I will. Thank you Nat." I stand up from my chair shuffling a little awkwardly.

"Of course." 

"Can I hug you? I really need a hug."

She doesn't say anything so I bow my head, now highly embarrassed that I, a 22 year old has just asked for a hug, fiddling with my hands in front of me. I gasp in surprise when I feel her strong but small arms wrap around my waist, my arms trapped between our bodies. She squeezes me tightly, as I wiggle my arms from between us and wrap them around her neck to pull her closer to me. She is so small compared to me that even when she stands on her tiptoes she only comes to the same height as Wanda. So I bend down a little trying to match her height and bury my head into the crook of her neck.

I don't even realise I'm crying until I hear Natasha's soothing voice whispering reassurances and her hands rubbing up and down my back to the best of her ability. Once I've calmed down a bit I pull away from the hug, wiping at my tears as I look down at Natasha who is smiling softly up at me.

"You are going to get through this Y/n." All I do is nod as I hiccup trying to calm myself down. "After you get back from vacation, take time to yourself. Don't allow yourself to get wrapped back up in the haze." 

"I won't. I think the weekend thing is going to be really good and once I've got a routine settled with my therapist I can be the person I want to be and the person Wanda needs me to be."

"Just don't try to rush your progress. Therapy doesn't work miracles in one session. I have a feeling you're going to be pushed to your limit, same with Wanda and her therapy. So it's good you aren't in each other's space everyday because I don't want you or her blowing up after an emotional session. So do the weekend thing and when you're ready talk to Wanda. Just be patient with her, she has had her walls up for over 14 years. They don't come down in a day." 

"I promised to love her and look after her. So however long she needs, she will get it." 

"Good. Now go home. Take a bath, relax before all the mayhem that will start tomorrow night." 

"I will, but going to the gym first." I show her my small bag I bought with my gym clothes in it.

"Oh, would you mind if I joined? I haven't been in a couple days due to work. A workout buddy seems good right about now."

"Sure, do we need to stop at yours to grab your clothes."

"If we go to my gym, I've got a locker there."

"Okay cool. Did you drive here?"

"No, I got the train here."

"Alright then I will drive us." Natasha nods as she follows me to the car, and I make my way to the passenger side opening the door for her.

"Madam." I jokingly bow as he climbs into the car, but not before giving me a warning flick to the chest. "Uh, how rude. I hold the door open for you and you abuse me."

I don't give her time to reply as I close the door as she flips me off. As I walk around the front of the car I jump when the horn blades in my ears. I shoot Natasha a glare giving her the middle finger but she simply smirks at me. Rolling my eyes as I join her in the car, I hit her leg with the back of my hand so she sways my hand in return. 

"So what gym are we going to?"

"Avengers compound."

"Oh wow, that's my gym too. How have we never bumped into each other? Wait, maybe that's where you recognise me from?"

"Hmm?"

"You know when we first met you knew me from somewhere. Maybe it's the gym."

"Wanda didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" I take a quick glance at Nat before pulling away and starting our drive to the gym.

"How I recognised you?"

"Uh, no she didn't. Should she have?"

"No, no."

"Okay." I drag the word out a little confused.

"I saw an article." 

"An article. What sort of article? I don't do press."

"From 2017." I instantly know what article she is on about

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"So that's how you knew what Monday was." 

"Yeah." I let out a small laugh, shaking my end a little as we come to a red light.

"Well you can blame Tony for that one. Me and Sarah wanted a private wedding, which of course he agreed to. But he also blabbed it to one of his paparazzi friends when he was drunk. So the next thing you know I am some mystery woman marrying the older daughter of Tony Stark that had never been one for the spotlight like her father." 

"That makes sense. I didn't even know he had a daughter and I've been working for him for like 10 years." 

"Yeah he was very protective over her and kept her hidden most of her young life. Then when she went to university she changed her name on the school's accounts to Potts, just so there was no connection people could make. They don't need to see your face to know what the surname Stark means." 

"It must have been hard for her to be in her fathers shadow." I shrug as the light finally turns green and we continue to the gym.

"She wasn't really in his shadow at all, she had her own free will to do as she pleased which Howard didn't approve of. But what are you going to do? Lock her in her own home? No she was always an equal in Tony's eyes, even helped her start the business that I soon became a part of."

"She started the business before you met?" I shake my head at her question.

"No, but I did an extra year at university doing a small business course as I had no idea what I was doing. Then when I passed that course my name was officially put down as CEO unfortunately."

"Unfortunately?" Nat's tone is a little sour but I look past it.

"Yeah, I mean it's great to be the big boss of this massive company. But I don't always feel like I earned it, I didn't work my way to the top. I was just given the job because I married a Stark."

"You feel like it was a handout."

"Yeah I did at the time."

"And now?"

"Well now I'm the sole owner of the company. Sarah's name is still on the door, and everything along with Evies. But it's not our company anymore, it's mine. And the past year or so, I've been building it in a new direction that we didn't plan to before. But it seems to be working out and I think she would be proud of where we are at this point in time." 

"It's an impressive empire you're building, I'm sure she would be proud of you especially if you think so too. What about your mom and dad?"

"What about them?"

"Do they take any interest in your work?"

"Yeah, they come to the galas and the business award shows and that. Dad sometimes helps out if I work from home and am having technical difficulties. He can literally plug a USB stick into the computer and sort the issue out in minutes. Mom just likes to remind me of how proud she is of me, always reminding me how far I've come since she found me and how I should be proud of the progress I've made in life."

Natasha turns to look out the window seeing that I'm pulling into the gym's parking lot. I shut off the car grabbing my bag from the backseat as Natasha gets herself out. I lock the car up, following Natasha inside as we both flash our membership cards to the employee, heading straight to the locker rooms.

I changed into some workout shorts, a sports crop top and some black Adidas ultra boosts. As I am putting my bag in my locker, Natahsa slides next to me resting her shoulder against the closed locker next to me. She is wearing an all black attire of leggings, crop top and trainers. I grab my bottle as Nat pushes herself off the locker and we make our way into the gym.

"So what do you want to do?" Nat asks as we head towards the treadmills.

"Well I was thinking cardio as a warm up then working on arms today. So I might need a spotter at some point. What do you plan on doing?"

"Arms and back." 

I stick my drink in the holder on the treadmill, popping my earbuds in and starting a light 3 mile run to get the blood pumping adding a small incline hallway through. During my run a check to see how Nat is doing, seeing her move to start her workout as she moves to the pull up bar. I keep an eye on her as she jumps to reach the bar, missing it by just shy of an inch. She looks around to see no one spotted but when she sees me smirking she flips me off.

I look back at my treadmill to see I've finished in just under 21 minutes, my breathlessness proving how hard I pushed myself. I take a swig from my bottle as I casually stroll over to Natasha who is giving me the biggest pout I've seen.

"Do you need a hand?" 

"Please. Normally I come with Sharon and we do the jump and hoist manoeuvre." 

"Well we can do that if you want or I can just lift you." Natasha curls an eyebrow at my confidence.

"You think you can lift me?"

"Yeah, what do you weigh like 120?" She smiles at my estimate.

"125 but I will take 120 any day."

"Then yeah you're light as a feather." She shoots me a look that tells me she doesn't believe me. "Just face the mirror and I will lift you up."

Natasha grumbles but turns around facing the mirror that goes all the way around the gym wall. I put my hands on her hips making sure I have a good grip, bending down slightly so I can hoist her easier. I pretend to look like I'm struggling for a second and when I see Nat go to say something I quickly push her into the air, laughing at the surprised squeal that leaves her lips. 

After getting over her initial shock she wraps her hands around the bar, my grip on her waist not faltering until she is ready. She gives me a small nod through the mirror and I slowly take my hands away. She wiggles her hands slightly wider apart and starts to pull herself up until her chin touches the bar.

I decide to join her, but want to challenge myself so grab the weight belt and add a 25lb weight onto it before gripping onto the bar. Being tall has its advantages. I make sure I'm happy before I pull myself up, bending my legs up behind me as they cross over one another. I hear Natasha scoff next to me and I can see a playful glare on her face.

"Show off." I laugh at her bluntness.

"Whatever. You're just mad you couldn't reach the pole." 

The rest of the workout turns into a competition. We both managed 40 pull ups, 60 sit ups, 40 press ups, 40 burpees and then we did a 5 mile slow run. To say my legs feel like jelly is an understatement. But now I am on the bench, Natasha spotting for me as I prepare myself to bench press 200lb. It would be a personal best. A couple other gym members have circled us to watch as soon as they heard the word personal best, everyone here loves to hype up someone going for it. 

So here I am hands resting on the bar, Natasha's next to mine as two gym buffs hold onto the weights on the end of the bar. I take a few deep breaths before nodding and pushing the bar off the stand as the gym around me falls silent in anticipation. I see a little worry in Natasha's eyes so send her a small wink as I lower the bar. I make sure I'm set in the best position before nodding to the two gentlemen who are helping Natasha spot. They let go off the end of the bar and I let out a small huff as I take the full weight. 

"You've got this." Natasha encourages as she removes her hand from the bar taking a small step back. 

I take a few deep breaths before starting to push my arms upwards. Oh fuck this is really heavy. I make sure to breathe as I push the bar up higher and higher.

"Come on Y/n. Lift it. You're almost there." Nat's words almost make me laugh as she gets more and more excited the higher I lift the bar.

I smile at the support from the crowd around me who break into a massive cheer as my arms lock above me, I see Natasha jumping up and down on the spot. Deciding one rep is enough I nod my head to the two gentlemen and they grab onto the weights at the end of the bar and Nat's hands hold on to it next to mine. We lower the bar back into its place and I sit up as people walk past patting my back and shoulders giving me words of encouragement and congratulations. 

I squeal in surprise when Natasha wraps her arms around my shoulders, a lot easier for her to match my height when I'm sitting down. I stand up as I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her into the air spinning us around. I let out a belly laugh as she squeals when I give her a squeeze and start bouncing up and down.

"I did it! Holy fucking shit I did it."

"Put my down you fucking baboon." I scoff as I drop her slightly, catching her again before she can get even close to the ground but the small shocked shout she lets out surprises me.

"Wow baboon. Ouch." I gently let her back down to the floor as she brushes off her clothes as she smirks at me.

"Yep you are a big baboon."

"Well then you must be a teeny tiny spider."

"A spider. Really?" I wrap my arm around her shoulders, her arm wrapping around my waist as we walk back to the changing rooms.

"Yeah. Small but deadly is what I get from you." I hum in thought. "Oh, black widow!"

"Black widow." Her eyebrow curls as she thinks about it. "Fine."

"Cool so are the black widow and baboon going to be gym buddies." She rolls her eyes but can't hide the smile that grows on her face.

"Sure thing. The deadly spider will hang out with the big baboon." 

"I could always take the name away and call you something like rat or mouse." 

"You wouldn't." She gasps in fake horror.

"Oh but I would little mou…." Her hand clamps my mouth shut.

"Fine, I will think of another name for you." I like her hand and her face scrunches in disgust as she removes it, wiping it on my crop top. 

"Well since I am in Canada all of next week, how about a gym session tomorrow before I head to Wanda's then we can come up with a routine or something for when I get back."

"Sure thing bear." I raise an eyebrow at the name.

"Bear?"

"Yeah, they are strong headed, and heavy lifting animals. And if they stand on their hind legs they probably come to match your height. And it's not a baboon."

"I don't hate it."

"Good because it's sticking, bear." She laughs as I bump my shoulder against hers. "Right so see you tomorrow. Say we will be here for 2pm?"

"I will see you at 2, black widow."

"See you tomorrow, bear."

================================

[uenodivision]

Attention!

Last week, the eight teams for the Collab Tournament were revealed. Today, I'll be showing which team is competing against which, as well as the general rules for the tournament. First off, the rules. Yes, they're boring and suck, but they are needed.

Rules:

Schedule: The Collab is scheduled to begin on November 2nd, the first Saturday of the month, and will continue through the rest of the month until the fourth Saturday, which is the 23rd. I'll try to have all of the songs posted by or around noon. If not by then, then definitely before 5 P.M.

Sending in Songs: After the theme has been chosen (and a winner from the previous round has been shown), you will send me a song that you want your OC to sing, either by PM or IM. The song can be whatever you want. If it's animated or by a real person, it's fine. I don't judge; I know how hard it can be to find a song/singer that sounds or feels like your OC. (Don't forget the title of the song!)

IMPORTANT: If possible, try to send your songs in ASAP. I'd like to have all songs by no later than each Thursday night or Friday morning, so I can begin work on the week's songs. If you need help finding a good song or think you won't be able to post a song in time, either let me or one of your teammates know, and we'll do our best to help. If you don't, I'll leave the choice of song in your teammates' hands. If you don't like the song they chose, oh well.

Themes: After discussing it with my friends, it's been decided that I will be choosing the themes for each team to do their songs on. The themes will generally only be one word revolving around a certain feeling (similar to what ParaLive does). I'll try to pick a theme that's easy for people to find songs for. But if you can't find a song that fits the theme or doesn't sound like your OC, then don't worry about it and just pick a song that you like. As stated, I know how hard it can be to find a song that feels/sounds like your OC.

Voting: Voting is scheduled to begin as soon as the songs have been posted (which is why I'll be trying my hardest to make sure they are all out by noon, if possible). I learned from last year, so I won't be using Google Polls this time since it's annoying. I'm not sure which poll system I'll use, but I'll be sure to let everyone know.

As stated, voting is scheduled to begin each Saturday afternoon, and will last until Tuesday evening, which is when the winning teams will then be announced, along with the new theme. As soon as you have listened to the songs, be sure to head to the poll on the website and vote for the team you think won.

IMPORTANT: I know I'm probably wasting my time and breathe by saying this, but please try to be fair and honest when you vote. Don't just vote for the team that has your OC in it, as that takes all of the fun of the contest. This is partially the reason why I'm not using Google Polls this year cause it allows a person to vote more than once, and that ruined the voting last year.

I think that about covers everything. If there's anything else, I'll be sure to let everyone know.

So now, without further ado, allow me to show just which team will be facing which in the tournament for the first round:

1. Dragon's Keep vs. Adrenaline Rush

Theme for Battle: Hustle

Definition: 'the relentless pursuit of goals, and the determination to succeed against all odds. The story of grinding and working hard, pushing through challenges, staying focused, and never giving up.'

2. AKATxSUKI vs. Sireen's Angels

Theme for Battle: Unity

Definition: 'the strength and power that comes from coming together as a team or a community. The idea that when people join forces, they can achieve more than they ever could alone.'

3. Cyber Nexus vs. Darkness Made Flesh

Theme for Battle: Dreams

Definition: 'the aspirations and goals that drive us forward. The hopes and ambitions that fuel our journey, the visions of what we want to achieve, and the relentless pursuit of our passions, turning them into reality.'

4. Future Forward vs. Nerd Roulette

Theme for Battle: Freedom

Definition: 'the state of being free from constraints, limitations, or oppression. It's about the ability to act, speak, and think without hindrance or restraint, breaking free from anything that hinders you.'

So, these are the first-round teams and themes that will take place on the 2nd of November. I look forward to the songs that are sent in, and a good contest. Until next time.

@katsushika-division @oita-division @sapporo-division @kanazawa-division @edogawa-division @akihabara-division03 @aichi-division @shinagawa-division @setagaya-division @kobedivision @naha-division @fukuokanodivision @kagoshima-division @sendaidivision @kumamoto-division @ginza-division @suginami-division @akihabaradivision @okinawa-division @shizuokadivision @minato-division01

[quandaryqueen]

Familiar face

BTAS Jonathan Crane X Reader

Your beverage spills on his shirt in a café and it's his fault.

@jesterglitch's request, though i have taken some creative liberties to it :3 I hope you enjoy!

CW: Drugging. It is Scarecrow we are talking about.

Test subject number one had walked in, rushing in to get their caffeine-fill for the day, not even bothering to dust themselves off from the snowfall outside. Their thick knitted scarf concealing the bottom half of their face and their matching hat obscured their head. Just your typical Gotham dweller. They take their seat just behind Jonathan's booth and he was delighted at how you were making it easy for him.

You can catch Jonathan running tests out it in the open on a Friday afternoon in a quaint little café in Gotham city. Nothing too major, his unknowing test subjects would even brush it off as caffeine jitters. It wasn't even to make new discoveries, he just wants to witness a watered down concoction of his work in a sea of people cramped inside a busy café, plus the aforementioned effects of caffeine, how would it affect them with the addition of the fear gas?

From the corner of his eye, you take your scarf off. He produces a small bottle from his pocket and sprays at your direction, in a discreet manner, as if he was spraying himself with his cologne. He waits a few minutes more, knowing the diluted concoction will take time to take effect. He empties his own cup, before standing from his booth, looking over at your direction, concealing it with an act of asking for a refill.

You looked relatively normal, idle. Any seconds now... there we go, a slight change in your expression, a wince. You press a hand to your chest, feeling your heart rate raise, then glanced to your coffee with a concerned look in your eyes. Your cup had already been halfed.

Jonathan hadn't known you ordered decaf. If you didn't, you would not have stood from your booth to approach the counter and he would not have recognised you. Before he could register anything else, decaf coffee spills on his chest.

"Oh my god! I am so sorry—"

Oh my fucking god...

"Y/N?!" Jonathan exclaims, earning a few headturns from other patrons. His eyes bulging out of their sockets and jaw on the ground.

Y/N L/N, an old time friend that he hasn't seen in a good while. He's known you for about... Ten years now, since high school. You were one of the few— er, maybe the only one he tolerated in high school. The odds of running into you was astronomically astonishing—

"Johnathan?!" You exclaimed back, as equally surprised as he is, but oblivious about the crime he has inflicted upon you. "Oh my gosh I'm so sorry about your shirt..."

"And I am sorry..." Jonathan states through gritted teeth with a wince, but not from the pain of your burning coffee penetrating through his skin. "How are you feeling?"

You stare at him like he has two heads. "How am I feeling?! You're the one covered in coffee! Oh my gosh..."

A young waiter shuffles to your direction, handing you tissues in which you thanked her before using them to dab against the coffee stain.

"I should have watched where I was going, gosh this isn't how I expected our reunion to be..." You groaned to yourself.

"No, no, I should have been the one who's watchful..." Jonathan knowingly says with a grimace. To commiserate with you, he also did not expect that he would be spraying fear toxin at your direction in your unexpected reunion.

"Are... you okay? Do you... need to... take you shirt off?" You're breathing heavily and Jonathan knows it's his fault.

"I-I'm fine, really. How about you?" Abnormality in your breathing, change in your complexion, pupil dilation...

"No no I'm fine— I'm—" And down you go.

You stumble forward, Jonathan looked too prepared to catch you while the other cafe patron's looked over at the commotion. So much for an experiment and for the reunion.

[onbearfeet]

Roommate Cryptid has the plague and maybe I do too?

Welp.

So I got a text this afternoon from a friend, informing me that, after 4 years of dodging the bullet, she developed covid symptoms the day after she gave me a lift home from a 4th of July barbecue, and had now tested positive. I tested immediately, and was negative.

Roommate Cryptid tested positive. Later in the day, he developed mild brain fog.

This is a little odd because, while he was also at the barbecue, he left before Covid Friend arrived. It's possible that my negative is a false one and I gave him the plague despite still being asymptomatic, but we're currently playing a somewhat grim game of I Got It From Agnes. Results so far:

The hosts of the barbecue on the 4th: negative, asymptomatic

The hosts' children: asymptomatic, probably too young to provide a good sample for a home test.

My mother, whom I saw unmasked on Saturday the 6th: negative, asymptomatic

My friend T, for whom I did a favor on Sunday the 7th while she wore a surgical mask and I wore an N95: negative, asymptomatic.

RC's and my friend J, whom RC saw on Friday the 5th: positive, asymptomatic.

RC's sister, with whom he had dinner Friday evening: negative, asymptomatic.

Everybody in the grocery stores I visited on Sunday while wearing an N95: I'll never know.

Everybody in the Target RC visited on Sunday while not masked: ditto.

So maybe RC got it from me, and I'll test positive tomorrow. Maybe I'm actually negative, and RC got it from J, and the timing is a coincidence because there's so much plague about. Maybe somebody else at the barbecue was passing the plague around and RC caught it that way. I'll update this as I get more data if anyone's interested.

Any which way, this is your irregularly scheduled reminder to wear a fucking mask and get your jabs if you can because actual systematic anti-covid measures make Economy Jesus cry or something, and you never know when Roommate Cryptid will be asymptomatically buying USB sticks in your local Target.

[walviemort]

Expecting a Secret [2/3]

Summary: After the events of 3x19, Killian is at his lowest after being rejected by Emma. When Snow’s labor turns out to be a false alarm, Zelena offers Killian a deal: she’ll leave the Charmings alone…if he gives her the baby she needs for her spell instead. There’s just one hitch: he has to keep it a secret. At least it will only take 10 days, right? a/n: Here's the second part of my bday fic for @sancocnutclub !!! This is the full fic from the manip I posted last week. Last chapter should go up on Friday! rated T | AO3 | 3.8k | part 1 |

Based on what Killian was feeling and seeing, the next morning found him roughly at the 23-week mark (as expected, he’d spent most of the night studying his borrowed book—and was feeling thoroughly overwhelmed). His stomach looked yet larger, but his vest still had plenty of room, even if the laces on the side were let out a bit more.

He also found himself resting his hand on his belt to further hide the increasingly obvious curve of his midsection (at least, it appeared so to him, given all the decades that his form had remained unchanged). It seemed to work, thankfully, but he also made an effort to not be too social; he took lunch with Emma and Henry, at their request, but had to pass on their invite to dine at the loft that night. He cited his desire to avoid the extra burden on Snow—who it was implied could go into labor at any moment, though he had (good) reason to believe they had a bit more time, assuming Zelena’s implication that she had control over Snow’s pregnancy was true—but in reality, he knew his ravenous appetite would be nigh impossible to hide in such close quarters. (Granny was far less discerning, especially with with her approving comments about “putting some meat on his bones.”)

“We’ll miss you,” Henry told him as he and Emma left the diner that afternoon; Killian wasn’t sure if what he felt at that was his heart skipping a beat, or yet another kick from the little one, which were happening with increasing frequency and strength. 

He tried his damnedest to swallow his emotions and looked up at Emma, who was giving him a similar gentle look. “I, uh, I’ll miss you too—lad,” he added quickly. “Until next time.”

He was glad he’d left things vague when he yet again felt immediate relief at unclasping his vest once back in his room. The odds of it fitting even later that day were slim to none, which would no doubt draw Emma’s attention. No, he’d do best to avoid her the next several days, until this whole thing was done. 

That was something else he’d noticed—his conscious effort to put distance between him and this child, even if it obviously was more emotional than physical. His paternal side would find it far too easy to start considering names for the wee one, to caress his growing stomach and maybe even serenade the baby, to start preparing for the future. He wasn’t even sure the babe was his—but that had never stopped him before.

Until he knew how to keep them safe from Zelena’s clutches, though, he didn’t dare; that might only lead to heartbreak, and he’d known enough of that for a few lifetimes. 

He did ask Emma, during a moment when Henry stepped away to the restroom, if any progress had been made regarding the witch problem, given that his attempt at research was fruitless. 

“Nothing yet,” she sighed. “Unless we can somehow steal the items back before my mom goes into labor, our only hope is my magic.” Her eyes briefly darted to his lips; he leaned away from her. 

“I’d say both are good plans,” he assured her. “Especially the second one.”

She rolled her eyes, but blushed. “I think you’re the only person confident in that.”

“Well, take some of mine, then. Remember: I have yet to see you fail,” he reminded her, and placed his hand over hers on the diner table. 

The look she gave him was heavy; she still wasn’t used to people having that kind of faith in her, he knew. But if this was his only way of thwarting the witch—of keeping two infants safe—he’d give her as much support as he could.

The moment was simultaneously interrupted by Henry’s return, and a strong kick from his passenger—as if to remind him that at some point here (sooner than he’d care to admit), he’d have to go into hiding. He’d have to figure out a way to offer his support from afar. 

But until there was a definite plan, he was going to keep things as impersonal as possible, merely trying to make sure he complied with Zelena’s rules and did whatever he needed to remain something resembling comfortable. The babe seemed to be growing just fine; his stomach was maybe a touch smaller than average, but that could be attributed to him also being taller than the typical expectant parent, as well as a life at sea demanding denser core muscles. 

Hopefully, that remained the trend; he’d read the section about what happened after birth in more detail and…it wasn’t pretty. And he was still a rather vain man, with a woman to woo, if she’d still have him. 

(He hadn’t given much thought as to how he might explain this to Emma after the fact, if at all; he hoped the simple fact that Zelena was no longer going after the Charmings would be enough that they wouldn’t even need to have the conversation. However, he wasn’t naive enough to count on it.)

—----------------------------------------------

When he woke the next morning, his hand was instinctively resting atop the bare curve of his belly. (That didn’t bode well for his plans of detachment.)

He also found it difficult to sit up in his normal manner; after much rolling around and repositioning, he finally managed to get upright—only to see that his stomach had popped out a fair bit overnight. It most definitely resembled a bump now; after using the lavatory, he traced the curve of it in the mirror, equal parts astounded and horrified. He was also surprised at how firm it was—it wasn’t just softness; there was definitely something there. (Something that was repeatedly kicking at his liver, it felt like.)

His tunic was plenty roomy, but the vest would no longer clasp over his gravid form, no matter how much he let out the laces. He huffed as he cast it aside; he knew it was inevitable, but it was depressing all the same. At least his pants still fit, but barely—and likely not for much longer.  

If no one looked closely, and he didn’t tuck in his shirt, it wasn’t all that noticeable. But there would be no hiding it from those even reasonably close to him. Now he understood why the upper-class women referred to this time as “confinement”—because in order to keep this hidden, he’d have to stay in his room.

Not for the first time, he wished he had his ship; it would have been far easier to hide out there, away from prying eyes. Or if only there were another inn in town, but it would likely draw more attention if he were to relocate.

While he still had a semblance of normalcy to his appearance, he decided he should seek out provisions to get him through the next several days. By his math, he’d only just crossed the halfway mark in the time frame Zelena gave him, but was more than halfway through the pregnancy—so it was likely slowing down in speed, meaning he’d be spending the bulk of it during the most uncomfortable parts. Not only would he need food, he’d need other supplies as well. 

He’d jotted down a list and slipped it into the pocket of his greatcoat, next to the fair amount of gold he’d stashed before leaving the Jolly Roger. His jacket hung loose enough that it hid his belly, but only just.

Cautiously, he poked his head out in the hall before heading out; even if he was reasonably covered up, the more inconspicuous he could be, the better. The coast was clear, so he slipped out and locked up—but then he heard a similar sound from behind him.

“Oh, hey—I was just about to come over,” Emma said from across the way. “I’ve got a magic lesson this afternoon, but do you want to get lunch before it?”

He was still facing the door. Given the state of things, Emma was the last person he’d wanted to run into. Traitorously, the baby chose then to give him a sharp thump in the stomach, as if telling him to get a move on.

So he did his best to suck in a breath—to minimize his bump’s profile—before turning around. He plastered on his best flirtatious look and avoided the urge to place his hand on his belt. “Is that your way of asking me out on a date?” he teased, hoping the obvious come-on would prevent her from suspecting anything was awry.

As predicted, she rolled her eyes. “If I was asking you on a date, it wouldn’t be to Granny’s,” she countered.

“Duly noted,” he quipped back (and saved for future reference). “But unfortunately, I have to decline the invitation; I’m afraid I have some errands to run that I’ve been putting off too long.”

“Oh.” Her face fell, and he tried to make sure his heart didn’t follow it. “Well, I could go with you, if you wanted.”

He did—so much. But then how would he explain the copious amounts of food he was about to buy? “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t know how long it will take—and I know that Her Majesty can’t be kept waiting.”

Emma huffed, but he saw acceptance across her face. “Yeah, you’re right. But I’m absolutely not seeing her on an empty stomach.”

“Nor should you,” he agreed, smiling—though hopefully it didn’t look too pained, because his attempts at holding in his belly were beginning to strain. As such, he started to turn away to leave, but she wasn’t done.

“Hey, where’s your vest? Is that one of your errands?”

Dammit; should have known she’d notice. But her gaze seemed to be focused on his chest and not any lower; normally, he’d comment on her leering but he was just relieved. “Aye; damaged it with my hook last night, and the laces need repair.” (That part was true—some of them had gotten a bit stretched.)

“Darn; I thought maybe you were actually going to join the modern world and get some new clothes,” she teased.

“Not yet,” he countered, but it wasn’t a bad idea—not a total wardrobe change, but perhaps something a bit…roomier, or more forgiving. “I should get to it, though.”

Emma blinked and looked back up at him, having seemingly been lost in a daydream. (Perhaps buying modern clothes did need to be added to his docket at some point; just not today.) “Yeah, and I need to get moving. Have fun.”

“Thanks, and good luck,” he farewelled; Emma headed the opposite way down the hall with a casual wave.

He waited until she was out of sight and then relaxed with a sigh; he could feel his belly press against the laces of his trousers as soon as he did, and indulged in a brief massage of his lower abdominal muscles. At least the ruse had worked—but he was definitely seeking out pants with an elastic waist.

The supermarket was aptly named; it was indeed massive and overwhelming. But it had everything—fresh vegetables and meat, bulk rations, even perishables and fresh-baked goods. It was astounding. He was easily able to gather enough provisions (healthy ones at that) for the next several days. He also grabbed some items at random that simply sounded appealing—mostly sweets, but he’d learned that cravings were a customary part of the process and this little one certainly had a sweet tooth.

(Thankfully, he also found the section with flexible clothing with ease. He purchased a couple pairs of what were labeled “sweatpants” and a few long-sleeved tops in varying sizes and colors; he just hoped he’d selected ones big enough.)

Odds were he overpaid for the lot of goods, given that the lad working the checkout didn’t know the gold conversion rate offhand, but he didn’t rightly care if it also bought the boy’s discretion. Thankfully, he also had his enchanted tote bag with him—the one with the hidden expansion charm he’d picked up…gods, he couldn’t even remember where anymore, it’d been so long—so he wasn’t spotted carrying half a dozen overladen sacks into Granny’s.

He spent the rest of the afternoon unpacking his newfound treasures, grateful to finally have a use for the seemingly magical ice box in his room. He stashed the nonperishables on his small table, and his new clothing in a dresser drawer. 

One last thing remained, and admittedly, he hadn’t paid for it: a tiny outfit intended for a baby, covered with illustrations of sailboats. He’d slipped it into a pocket before paying for everything else, not wanting to draw the raised eyebrows such a purchase would attract, even if he could have passed it off as being for the Charming’s infant. 

He held it up with just his thumb and forefinger; the label on it suggested it was sized for a newborn, but it still seemed impossibly small. At least, until he laid it atop the steadily increasing curve of his belly; then he wondered if it would even be large enough (though the books told him the babe was only yet the size of an aubergine, which he had stared at in the produce section for an extended period of time).

Bloody hell, what was he doing? He couldn’t get attached; if he failed to help Emma and the others defeat Zelena, it would spell doom for this child. And given that he was increasingly running out of ideas, it seemed imminent. He’d already suffered two terrible heartbreaks in his life; he wasn’t sure he could survive another (which would undoubtedly be harsher).

He yanked open an empty drawer and threw the onesie inside, then shoved it shut. Best not to continue that train of thought; only if they actually managed to defeat the witch.

Sighing, he plopped down in the dining chair and tore (literally) into a package of something called Oreos. They were delicious, but did nothing to assuage his fears or guilt. For the umpteenth time, his hand instinctively drifted to his stomach, as if his touch alone could protect the babe.

Hopefully that, and his trust in the heroes, would be enough.

—--------------------------------------------------------------

Killian awoke the next day to something touching him. In his sleep-addled mind, he lashed out towards whatever it was, fully intending to let it (or them) get acquainted with the sharp end of his hook.

However, he’d taken his prosthesis off last night, lest he do anything to injure his ever-expanding midsection, so all he did was hit it away with his brace. An annoyed yelp followed his impact. 

“Bloody hell, I was just checking on the baby,” Zelena scolded. He blinked a few times, urging the sleep away from his eyes, to see the witch standing over him, scowling. 

“What the hell do you want?” he demanded as he tried (and failed) to sit up, eventually settling for propping himself on his elbows.

“I’m simply making sure that my investment is paying off. I’ve kept up my part of the deal—those sickly-sweet Charmings are just fine. But I’ve got to make sure everything is going well here, too; pregnancy is tricky business, you know.” She turned her gaze to his exposed belly; despite the shirt he’d worn to bed, it had ridden up overnight. “Oh, is that a stretch mark I see?” she declared, leaning back towards him.

He yanked the hem of his shirt down, both to cut off her view and at the wound to his vanity.

“You’re no fun,” she pouted. “I thought most expectant parents were basking in the glow of creating life, or whatever?”

“When it’s something they’ve wanted, aye; not when it’s been forced on them,” he spat. He hadn’t truly understood the concept of glowing until his time spent with Snow lately; however, he felt more washed out than anything incandescent.

But speaking of glowing—as she stood upright and folded her arms, light from the window glinted off the jewel at her neck. He remembered what the Charmings had been told about it being the source of her power, and without any further thought (moving faster than he thought he could), he lunged for the pendant, hoping that it might be just that simple to defeat her.

No sooner had his fingers brushed the surface of the gem than he was thrown back forcefully against the headboard; he groaned in pain. Bollocks.

“Ah-ah-ah,” she chastised. “Did you really think it’d be that easy? Especially when you’ve been touched not once, but twice by my own magic?”

“Had to try,” he panted out as he tried to catch his breath. His hand flew to his stomach as its inhabitant also protested the blow.

“You really ought to be more careful; a fall like that isn’t good for the little one,” she warned.

“Why do I give a shit what happens to your demon offspring?” he countered.

She scoffed. “Oh, it’s not mine. The spell would never work with my own blood. But,” she started, coming closer and leaning over him again. “It is yours.”

“What?” he gasped. He’d certainly wondered, but hadn’t expected that it was actually his child. How could she expect him to hand over his own flesh and blood? What he did to Bae all those years ago still haunted him; this would be even worse.

“Indeed. All the more reason for you to be careful, hm?” The way she caressed his bump again felt more like a threat than any sort of endearment. “If this child doesn’t survive, our deal is off. And maybe you should read the part of that book over there on just what that will do to you.”

(He swallowed, because he already had, of course; he couldn’t imagine anything more traumatic than carrying a child that didn’t survive—especially now knowing this one was truly his.)

“Then who’s the mum?” he asked, trying to distract himself. He needed to know that, too, especially if it wasn’t Zelena. “Is there one?” (Biologically, he knew there should be…but, biologically, she would be the one with child.)

“There is. Magic can’t circumvent that,” she confirmed as she set herself to rights. “But as for who…I’ll tell you when it’s all said and done.”

“You’re a bastard,” he growled.

“Something me and that baby will have in common,” she laughed.

She abruptly moved away and turned around, so he closed his eyes and took another deep breath to recover, at least physically, while she was distracted. He hadn’t realized how much the babe was pressing on his lungs until now.

“Oh, isn’t this sweet?” Zelena cooed. He opened his eyes to see her holding up the onesie. “Not my color scheme, but it certainly suits your aesthetic. Too bad they won’t get to wear it.”

Angrily, he stood from his bed to rush at her—he didn’t know why, exactly, just that he was suddenly filled with rage—but it was for nought, as she merely threw the garment at him before disappearing in her signature green smoke.

He caught it against his chest and sighed. He’d failed, hadn’t he? There was no way he could do anything to keep this child from Zelena’s clutches now, unless Emma managed to defeat her in the next few days. He sniffled, suddenly overcome by emotion—because wasn’t this so typical for him? To lose the things he loved?

(Because, much as he had tried not to, he did love the babe—even before he knew it was his; that was just his nature. But as with all things he loved, it was going to be taken from him—and their mum likely had no clue. Shit.)

His gaze was still on the outfit, vision blurring with tears, when a knock rapped at his door. He froze, hoping whoever it was would go away, but it sounded again. “Hook? Are you there?”

Of course it was Emma. Despite everything, he couldn’t say no to her. “Coming,” he called out, and quickly tossed the onesie aside, wiped his eyes, and strode to the door.

But then he glanced down; there was no hiding his belly, especially while wearing just the shirt and sweatpants he’d changed into (which, while exceedingly comfortable, did nothing to disguise the curve of his waistline). So he awkwardly angled himself, and opened the door just enough to peek his upper body around.

“Morning, Swan,” he greeted, though it was nowhere near as smooth as he usually was. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Her brow furrowed as she looked him over, then tried to look past him into his room. “I thought I heard something weird; is everything okay?”

“Right as rain,” he lied. “I did have a run-in with my bed frame, though,” he said, hoping she would believe him if he at least partially told the truth.

“What, stub your toe?” she teased.

“Aye, something like that,” he agreed.

She briefly narrowed her gaze, but seemed to accept his answer. “Well, do you want to get breakfast? Henry was asking if you wanted to spar again, too; I think he’s gunning to be your first mate.”

He had to smile at that, but it didn’t hold. “Ah, I’m dealing with a fair bit of fatigue at the moment; can I take a rain bill?”

Emma tilted her head. “You mean a rain check?”

“That, yes.”

“I suppose, but that’s only going to mean he’ll want more later.”

“I endeavor to make it up to him in full.”

She grinned, but hers too didn’t last. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I just haven’t been sleeping well,” he told her—which was true, given that the babe was treating his internal organs as playthings.

“Alright, well, rest up; you’ve been missed around here.” There was a steadiness in her gaze that suggested she was speaking personally rather than generally.

“I’ll try,” he said, though his voice was almost a whisper.

“See you,” she farewelled; he repeated it and shut the door, perhaps a bit too forcefully.

The next few days were going to be interminable, weren’t they?

The lone blessing was that Belle had lent him a few books from the library, so he had the means of entertainment, and obviously had bought more than enough food. (Those Pop-Tart pastries that Emma seemed to favor were indeed delicious.)

He felt like an arse when he had to feign sleep during Emma’s next attempt to drag him from his room, around dinner time. The woman was bloody stubborn. But, as he was being reminded by the insistent little foot digging into his ribs, there was truly nothing to be done until they were out. He’d extend his apologies then—once they’d defeated the witch.

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