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let-them-read-fics · 4 years ago

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Blackpink Reaction To Their S/O Struggling W/ Drug Addiction

Warnings / Misc. -- ⚠️ Sensitive Topic ⚠️, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

A/N: Hey everyone! This request covers a sensitive topic that I haven't been personally exposed to, but I hope that I do it justice. I did my best to handle it with care and be as realistic as possible. Let me know what you think!

PS -- I didn't specifically name any substances or describe them in too much detail; I wanted to leave you room to picture whatever you had in mind, especially if you happen to be struggling irl.

👩 Also, I wrote this as Fem!Reader because nothing was specified. I hope that's alright, anon! Thank you for your patience :)

♡ Happy Reading ♡

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Jisoo

Discovered it after a few weeks of dating

She's amazing at reading people, so she had sensed that you were struggling with something; she just didn't know what.

She wanted to wait for you to tell her about whatever it was, but one fateful day she witnessed something that explained it all.

It wasn't meant to happen; she wasn't meant to see you like this. But, as fate would have it, Jisoo stumbled across something she never saw coming.

Her footsteps grow louder as she walks her way through the house, peeking her head into various rooms in search of you. The two of you invited some of your mutual friends over, and they've all been curious as to where you slipped away to earlier.

"Baby, are you in here? Everyone's wonder--"

The sound of the latch clicking out of place makes your heart drop and sets you into motion. Before you have enough time to fully react, though, Jisoo opens the bathroom door to find you sitting on the ground, attempting to shove a foreign substance into a plastic baggy.

Your hands make quick work of moving it out of view and sitting up on your knees, but she picks up on what's going on. Her eyes land on the material as you shift it behind your body, looking up at her with wide eyes.

"Jisoo--" Tears are already beginning to work their way into your eyes, slightly blurring your vision. Too many people have walked out on you after witnessing this, and the thought that she might go too is overwhelming.

She keeps her tone level as she steps into the room and quietly shuts the door behind herself. "Y/N, please explain yourself."

"I-I'm sorry Jisoo, I should've told you sooner." You shakily say, bringing a hand up to swipe away the few tears that've already leaked out. It's not usually like you to get so emotional so quickly, but seeing the pained look on her face is reason enough.

"Come here," she utters, plopping down next to you and pulling you up against her body as she leans back on the side of the tub. Her fingers rub soothing circles on your back while you rest your head on her shoulder, lightly dampening the material of her shirt with your tears. "I'm not mad at you for this, but I need you to tell me about it. I want to help you, my love. I can't watch you hurt yourself like this."

"Okay. Just promise you won't go," you softly say, the syllables of your words breaking here and there from the raw emotion you feel.

"I'm not going anywhere, Y/N." She presses a light kiss to your temple for reassurance, and her heart breaks when she feels your hands grip at her clothes out of habit. How many times have people told you that and still left you in your time of need? She cradles you in her arms, realizing just how fragile you are in your current state, and tells you to take your time.

With a steadying breath, you begin to explain your struggles.

Road To Recovery

Constant check-ins

"Hey honey, we're at the studio now. Are you taking care of yourself for me?"

Helps you deal with the symptoms of withdrawal when they hit

Focuses on distraction and redirection as ways to help you cope

If you're at a party and feel tempted after seeing someone use, she leads you away to distract you from the urge

Helps you find safe alternatives

Celebrates the little victories

"Yes, Y/N, 4 and a half weeks clean is plenty reason to celebrate. Now mark it on the calendar and get over here so I can put this hat on you."

Playdates at your local dog café to keep your mind occupied (and bringing Dalgomie so he can make new friends, of course)

Takes you indoor skydiving. She wanted to find a way to give you an adrenaline rush while still being able to participate with you, so that was a happy medium. She battled her fear of heights to do that with you.

Not letting you lose hope if you relapse

"You're not a burden, and I'm not letting you give up on yourself. Not after all the progress you've made. I believe in you."

Accompanying you to rehab and recovery meetings, if you want her to

Bringing you your favorite snacks and candies when she picks you up

"I got you a little something," she smiles, leaning over the center console of the car to kiss your cheek. "You deserve a treat, baby."

Whenever you decide to tell everyone about your struggles and recovery journey, she's right next to you for support

Spends all the time she can with you

Early on, she would get really worried when you missed her calls or took a while to respond, but eventually she got over her fears to some degree

Still checks up on you when she's away for work

"Sorry for missing your call, Chu. Dalgom tried to kill me when I was giving him a bath and I couldn't get to the phone in time."

Overall, just a very proud girlfriend who sticks by you no matter what

After You've Recovered

Annual "recovery party" to commemorate your sobriety

Sometimes you invite the girls and your other friends, and sometimes you prefer to just spend the day at home with Jisoo

"Look at how far you've come, my love. I'm so proud of you."

♡♡♡♡♡

Jennie

She would be the only one who figured it out on her own. She picked up on the signs fairly quickly and always subtly helped steer you away from any potentially tempting situations

If you two watched a movie that happened to have a triggering scene in it, she always noticed how you'd look away and subconsciously tense up a bit

"Hey, babe. This movie's kinda boring; why don't we watch that new Netflix documentary instead?"

If the two of you were invited to parties that were likely to have a bunch of alcohol and drugs, sometimes she'd try to suggest staying in or doing something else instead

You eventually caught on to her diversion attempts, and sat down with her to have a talk.

"How long have you known?" You ask, pulling your legs up towards your chest as you sit back against the headboard of your California King.

"A few weeks," she starts, running a brush through her hair until it's untangled. Her damp locks stick to her shoulders as she approaches you, some strips slightly drier than others. "Were you ever gonna tell me?" She inquires softly, facing you as she sits down beside you on the bed.

"Of course, Jen. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner, I just… I was on my own with it before you. I didn't have anyone to turn to because everyone left once they found out." Your confession makes her chest ache -- it's a physical, honest pain that she feels as she imagines you battling such an unforgiving foe with no one in your corner. She places a warm hand on your thigh to comfort you, knowing just how much her touch helps when you're upset. "Hey, it's okay. There's no point in worrying about that now. I know it's hard to open up, babe, so thank you for doing this. I'm here to listen, alright?"

"Thank you, Jennie. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never have to know, either, because I'm staying right here."

"I love you," you whisper, leaning forward to press a kiss to her lips.

"I love you, too," she sighs against you, preparing herself for the emotional night you're about to have. For now, she takes a moment to just pull you into her arms and rest her forehead against yours, finding comfort in your steady heartbeat.

"We'll start whenever you're ready."

Road To Recovery

Makes various arrangements to ensure that the media won't know of your struggles

Keeps things on lock, especially if you decide to remain private on the matter and not tell the world

If you make a public statement about it, she still does everything she can to keep you protected from the negativity. She knows first hand how tough it can be to deal with, so she never lets you face it alone

You both help each other work through things

"You're my rock, Y/N/N."

"And you're my world, Jen."

Takes care of you during bouts of withdrawal

Sings to you to calm you down and help you relax

Takes you to theme parks and rides all the big coasters with you so you can get a similar high that you did from the drugs. She gets to be clingy with you and spend the day having fun, so she doesn't mind it, and you enjoy it just the same.

Suggests fun activities for you to do together

"We should visit that pottery place tomorrow! I've heard a lot of good things about it."

You stick close together when you're in public, especially when paparazzi are near

Your presence helps with her anxiety, and you hold her close and tell jokes to keep her attention off of it

Random surprise celebrations waiting for you when you get home

"Hey Jen, I'm home." You announce, shrugging your coat off before hanging it up on the metal rack next to the front door.

"In here," she calls from the kitchen, effectively pulling you in with that sweet voice of hers. When you reach the doorway and peek in, a dumbstruck smile slowly parts your lips as you see the set up she constructed.

"Happy 3 Weeks" a multicolored banner reads, displaying the phrase above your dining room table where Jennie sits. "Surprise, honey," she says softly, glancing down at the cake she made for you as she scoots it closer. You approach the table and examine it, practically feeling your heart grow 10 sizes from the love you hold for your girlfriend.

"Is this why you left practice early?"

"Mhm," she nods, kissing your cheek before she reaches into a small gift bag next to her chair. "I'm so proud of you," she grins, sliding a thin, glittery headband into your hair. It has two springs attached to the top that bounce in every direction possible, surely making you look like a dork.

"God, I love you."

"You'd better keep that same energy after trying the cake. I think I might've added too much baking soda…"

You shake your head and pull her in, pressing kiss after kiss to her lips until she's grinning just as hard as you.

Going on adventures with Kuma and Kai

Especially to dog parks and other national parks

Helps you fill things out for rehab and doesn't let you get too stressed about it

Helps you regain confidence in yourself if you relapse

"This isn't the end, Y/N. You're strong, I know you can beat this."

Is right next to you through it all

After You've Recovered

Go on an annual vacation to get away from everything and celebrate your sobriety. You take the opportunity to escape the media and reconnect with each other

"Where to this year, Y/N? Bora Bora, maybe?"

Intimate celebration between the two of you on vacation, and then the girls throw you a party when you come back

♡♡♡♡♡

Rosé

You were really good at hiding your secret from people -- especially those that you care about most. You're always afraid that once they find out, they'll pack up and leave.

Rosé was one of the first to actually stay

She had been fairly oblivious to your struggles since you masked that side of yourself well, but one day the two of you attended a little get-together at your old friend's house, and your dirty laundry was aired.

"Bro, come on, let's play Truth or Dare!" One of your old friends says, perking up at the fact that he remembered the game even existed. He's already a little tipsy, but so are some of the others.

"I don't know, dude," you hesitantly start, missing the way that Rosé curiously raises a brow beside you.

"Come on, we'll keep it tame." Another person adds from the couch opposite you, their voice low. You recognize her as Cho, a sort of frenemy from your high school years. Something doesn't sit right for you with the hint of mischief that shines in her eyes, but your friends' pleas eventually push the feeling away and you relent.

"Fine, but if Austin gets dared to do some dumb shit like last time I'm dropping out."

"Like what?"

"Like what?" You ask back, disbelief evident in your voice. "Are you forgetting the fact that I had to bail you out after you got arrested for streaking down the neighborhood?"

"Okay, fair point," Austin holds his hands up in surrender. "Just a few rounds."

As everyone's once boisterous laughter finally dies down into quiet chuckles, you turn to Rosé for a quick kiss. She reciprocates and holds you there for a few more seconds, loving the way your lips feel against her own. As you brush your nose against hers and garner a sweet giggle from her, Cho interrupts the moment with a phrase that makes your blood run cold.

"So, Rosé, has Y/N told you about the time she got arrested for drug possession? Word on the street is that she still can't shake her old habit..."

Rosie feels the way you tense up at the question and pull away from her, cringing at the exposure you just received. The room goes silent, enabling a pen to be heard if it were dropped.

"Hey," Austin goes to defend you, about to yell at her for bringing up such a difficult topic.

"It's fine, Austin," you say, sticking your hand out in front of him to keep him from approaching her. The last thing you want right now is a screaming match about your struggles.

Rosie finally speaks up after what feels like an eternity, turning to Cho to say, "No, but that's none of your business. And I strongly advise that you don't speak on her name like that again." She cuts her eyes at the other girl, sending an icy glare at her to show that she's serious before giving her attention to you again.

When a few tense moments pass with no one really saying anything, Jackson, the host, speaks up. "I think you need to go, Cho."

"Ah, what a shame. The fun was just starting," she mockingly pouts, stopping next to you on her way out the door. Rosé strokes the back of your hand to soothe you, tracing mindless patterns with her thumb until your shoulders relax and you look into her eyes. With Cho now gone, your friends decide to go out into the backyard and give the two of you some time to clear things up.

"So, I guess we should talk." You start, pulling your legs up onto the couch to sit criss-cross. She studies the way that you begin to nervously fidget and drop eye contact, and the sight breaks her heart.

"Your past is your past, Y/N, and I won't ever judge you for it. I wish she wouldn't have brought it up like that -- I really wish she didn't," she says, emphasizing the word to remind you of how upset she is with Cho, "But I can tell that you're still struggling. I want to help you get better, and I'll be here with you every step of the way, babe. You mean the world to me." She smiles sadly, trying not to think of how much it would hurt to lose you.

"Okay," you breathe out, accepting the honest help that she's extending to you. You've been burned and lied to in the past, but you trust Rosé to stay true to her word and assist you on the hard journey laid out before you. "Let's start from the beginning," you say, preparing yourself to retell your struggles from the moment they began all those years ago.

Road To Recovery

Takes care of you when withdrawal hits hard

Isn't afraid to take the day off if it's bad enough and she needs to

"Hey, Teddy. Tell everyone that I'll be staying home today, okay? I've already let the girls know, too."

Reassurance to the max

"You're doing amazing."

Is your shoulder to cry on when times get tough

On a weekend trip, the two of you snuck away to the beach to go cliff diving. It was a thrilling experience, and you'll always remember that day with her

Helps you find healthier alternatives to your addiction that can make the transition easier until you fully recover

"Baby, look at this." She says, repositioning her laptop so that you can see what she's looking at. The two of you are sitting on the bed, and her legs are stretched out over yours. "These herbs are safe to smoke and they can help with a lot of your troubles. These over here," she says, pointing to a section of the screen, "help with stress and anxiety. They make it easier to relax." You nod, logging the information in your brain as you run a hand over her smooth skin to keep yourself calm. It's a habit that both of you love. "Thank you, Rosie. Nobody's ever done anything like this for me." You say, keeping your head down as you remember all the people that have left you behind in your time of need.

"You'd do the same for me, and I'm happy to be here for you." She declares, holding one of your hands within both of her own. She cradles it delicately, just like she does your heart. "I'll do whatever it takes to make you feel my love. I'm not going anywhere, babe." She leans in, connecting your lips in a sweet kiss.

Keeps your spirits up if you relapse

"You're not a failure, Y/N/N. This is just a setback, and we're going to get through it together."

One of her friends told her about a fun art class that's supposed to help people in recovery let go of some of their resentment and negative feelings, so she brought it up and you agreed to go

It was structured in two parts:

Part 1: Everyone went out to an old car lot that had various old vehicles, electronics, and other things to smash up. Once you let loose and relieved some of your tension, you collected scraps of the things you destroyed.

Part 2: With the scraps you brought back, you were told to create any type of artwork you wanted -- whatever felt right. Collage, graffiti, scrapbook, etc. At the end of the class, you were informed of the driving message behind it: Though the negative feelings and aversions you dealt with in the past may have left you feeling broken, you never really were -- you've always had the power to piece yourself back together and continue on.

After You've Recovered

Taking a month off work every year to travel and experience new things together. Usually consists of going to another city (or even country) and exploring their art museums and other artistics outlets

The new experiences help remind you off all the reasons you want to stay sober, and they help her have new material for her songs

Lots of pictures and drawings to remember all of your adventures

Collect trinkets to hang up / display, especially around the holidays

The girls have a special celebration waiting for you when you return

♡♡♡♡♡

Lisa

She could tell something was wrong when your behavior started to change over the course of a couple weeks

She suspected other things, but after finding a substance in your bag while on a vacation trip, she was blind sided by the reality of the situation

"Hey Lis, have you seen my swimsuit?" You casually ask, strolling into your hotel bedroom in search of the item. "I thought I left it--"

Your words catch harshly in your throat, nearly making you choke from how quickly you cut yourself off. She's sitting on the edge of the bed with the baggy in her hands, and tears brim in her eyes.

"Fuck," you wince, closing your eyes as you put your face in your hands. "You weren't supposed to find out like this."

"Why didn't you tell me?" She asks, staring straight ahead, though her eyes don't focus on anything in particular. Knowing you hurt her is bad enough, but seeing her like this makes the pain even more evident.

"I was going to, I promise. But I've been trying to wean myself off of it," you begin to explain, slowly walking across the room until you're in front of her. You squat down and put your hands on her thighs, staying quiet until she meets your gaze. "I've tried to quit cold turkey in the past but it didn't go down well. I figured I could handle this on my own and not get you involved."

"Baby, I want to be involved. You've been different lately, and having you shut me out didn't help ease my fears. I want to be a part of this, okay? You can turn to me when you feel alone," she says through the occasional tears that roll down her cheeks, "It's my job to help you and keep you safe. So let me," she crouches down next to you as she says the last part, wrapping her arms around you when she notices your lip tremble. "I'm not gonna let this get between us," she says against your shoulder, reminding you of how strong her love for you is.

"I'm sorry I waited so long," your words are muffled against her shirt, but she can hear how the emotion in them changes your voice slightly.

"We have to start somewhere, and this is just as good a time as any. I'm right here, Y/N/N."

Road To Recovery

Sweet texts and reminders throughout the day

"Hey baby, have you eaten today? The girls and I miss you like crazy."

"Don't forget about your check-up tomorrow. I already told my manager that I'll be taking the day off, so I'm all yours 😉"

"*image attachment* Question: Do you think Lego would look cute in this or do you think Lego would look cute in this? Because he WOULD."

Stargazing trips to talk about how far you've come

Making treats for the cats together if you have a bad day

Sometimes your withdrawal leaves you with weird cravings, but she never hesitates to race to the store at any hour and snatch up your favorite treats

Learning how to cook together to keep you occupied and give you a hobby (plus she's always wanted to get better at it)

“If you fling that at me, I swear to God I'll--”

"Oops!"

"LISA!"

Day trips to random parks and open locations to have little photoshoots when she has free days

Once took you bungee jumping for the experience and adrenaline rush

Bringing you into the studio if you're having a hard time and don't want to be alone

Always listens to you and shows how much she cares

Opts out of events if she suspects that drugs will be there to tempt you (considering you're always her plus one)

You still send her to enjoy herself at the events without you sometimes, though it does take a lot to convince her to leave you at home

"Okay, okay! But we're binging that new show when I get back."

Makes you laugh often and cheers you up when you need it most

She's your sunshine

After You've Recovered

Considering that you're her muse and she's the artist that she is, she hatched a plan early on to document your journey to recovery

"One more, babe. Just like that." She instructs, holding the camera up to her eye one final time. "Perfect."

"Alright, close your eyes and turn around." She commands while returning to the coffee table that sits in the middle of your living room. Her hands make quick work of putting the finishing touches on her gift for you while you patiently sway and hum to whatever song is stuck in your head at the moment.

"Annnnnd done!" She shouts, approaching you with a wide smile tugging at her lips as she holds the book out in front of herself. "It's a photo album. I started it the day you told me you wanted to try and get better," she says, smiling softly as she slowly walks you through the beginning pages of the book. "I thought it would be nice to see how far you've come," her eyes remain glued to the pictures she took as she continues flipping, and she fails to realize that you're staring at her now.

"I'm so in love with you. I can't thank you enough, Lis. This is beautiful." You shake your head in quiet disbelief, genuinely surprised that someone would work so hard on something for you. It shouldn't be a surprise with her though, considering how much she loves you, but it still baffles you sometimes.

"This gift only shows a fraction of my love for you, but I'm happy you like it. This is nothing, baby; there's so much more where this came from. Thank you for letting me in." She captures your lips in a meaningful kiss, and finds it hard to pull away. You seem to be her drug of choice, but neither of you care to end that sweet addiction.

Annual trips to photoshoots and fashion shows

Being her favorite model (seriously, she could look at you for hours on end)

Always feeling so loved and cherished, no matter what the two of you are doing

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rouiyan · 4 years ago

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𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘚 𝘚𝘏𝘐𝘙𝘛 𝘖𝘍 𝘏𝘐𝘚 [ 𝘭.𝘫𝘯 ]

⧏ part of the 2020 home for the holidays collective ⧐

synopsis: jeno decides that, this time around, he would rather risk heartbreak than love you in silence for seven more years.

✧ lee jeno x (fem.) reader) ✧ childhood best friends to loverz, next door neighbor au, (mentioned college au)

✧ genres : fluff, angst, slight comedy ✧ word count : 19.3k ✧ disclaimers : swearing, underage swearing (?), shirtless jeno, legal alcohol consumption

✧ author’s note — i am unsure as to why you would spend your christmas reading this heckin long fic, but in the case that you do, i hope that you enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it. it’s longest fic i’ve written thus far (though only by a hundred or so words) so happy reading <3 and i’ll see you around :D

jeno’s glad his mom’s asked him to go to the grocery store, a two minute walk away, to grab some eggs, a tub of sugar-free yogurt, and a breath of fresh air—the most welcome change of pace to his stuffy bedroom or the dust of the stale garage. he thinks he's the first of his high school graduating class to arrive back in town for the winter but it’s here at the store that jeno sees you for the first time in years. his hand, the right one, clutching an empty basket goes limp and he's two steps away from being fully unconcealed by the far end of the dairy aisle. surely, he must look like a creep with only his head peeping out.

it's been years. your hair is now a faded silvery brown, presumably dyed, and gathered into a messy ponytail. the ends of your hair fight with the hood of your sweatshirt, a distilled blue and loose fitting atop a pair of gray sweats. and the basket, looped upon your left elbow, is as empty as his own but you're overturning a can of condensed milk in your other hand, eyes scrutinizing the packaging for the expiration date, the later the better.

he would go and say hi, maybe even strike up a conversation, ask you how you’ve been, but he can’t bring himself to because he’s wearing that one bright green shirt from his seventh grade math competition that is certainly not up to your liking nor preference. really, it’s not that he thinks you'd judge him, knowing you, you’d probably get a good laugh from it and move on, but things have changed since then.

you are no longer the girl he walked to middle school with everyday in the mornings, in the afternoons. and jeno is no longer the boy that was the same height as you; the glasses are long gone and so is the thirteen year old boy who'd cried at his mom for telling him he'd have to go to a different high school than you. things are different and things have changed.

it was all this, paired with the gut feeling that if he went up to you, shirt stretched out like a muscle tee, he’d simply be cowering in your presence. jeno had not the faintest idea you’d be returning this winter since the last three years were spent without (and the four before, though that was only because he lacked the guts to ring the doorbell three houses down). he sticks his head back before you notice him. rerouting, he goes for a stroll in the chips aisle and then right back to the dairy after he sees the slightest indication of your sweatpant cuffs rounding the corner.

jeno catches his breath there. he gets the goods and makes a beeline for the cash register, keeping his head down and nearly toppling into the display tower of canned corn along the way. the lovely granny at the register, with a nametag labeled 'poppy' on her pink cardigan, is kind enough to check up on his tattered state as she squints at the barcode to scan the yogurt, "young man, are you alright? you're panting awfully hard there."

he only realizes he's spaced out when she repeats with added concern, "sir? do you need some water or-"

"oh, no- i- no, thank you. i'm-" he clears his throat, a plastered smile to aid in his response, "i'm quite alright, thank you." she gives a faltering smile back, one meant to assure, as she discloses his total, "that'll be seven dollars and forty-eight cents." the items are bagged and handed over to him with a receipt. he's in the midst of giving the kind lady a nod in thanks, in the midst of turning and heading in the direction of the exit, in the midst of taking that first step to freedom, the land of no pressures, when he hears your voice from behind, "jeno? is that you?"

well, shit. he swallows thickly. conscious of his every move, he turns deliberately, the plastic bag hanging, swinging to hit his knee and a hand coming up to the scruff of his neck. he turns to see you next in line, smiling and approaching him with paced steps. only, in his mind, it seems as if you are charging towards him at full speed. although conscious of his every move, jeno unconsciously takes a step back. "y- yeah, that's me."

you beam at the words, setting the basket on your hip as you empty the items onto the checkout conveyor belt. "gosh, i knew it!" he sees your favorite gummy worms, a pack of those flamin' hot cheeto fries which are admittedly too spicy for you to handle, both in the mix of what seems to be baking ingredients. dusting your hands off with two definitive swipes, you fist them and set them on your hips, an adorable pose if he were to be honest. hand falling to his side, jeno watches as a corner of your lip lifts into an emerging grin, "so, how have you been?"

he almost coughs as his words tumble their way into air, "i've been well, home for break, you know, from college and stuff." huh, he thinks, not a bad start.

apparently not because you giggle in turn, "well, obviously." the way you gesticulate your hands with each spoken word strikes familiarity within him. "you don't have to be so vague, jen, we were best friends at one point, remember?" the hand is back at his neck as if it never left, the nickname you had used making him squeak, "yeah, of course i remember." jeno watches as you stare for an awfully long time (two seconds) at his shirt. he knows you're just a thought away from commenting on it when dear mrs. pops clears her throat, a half-apologetic smile on her face, "your total will be sixty-four dollars and twelve cents." your eyes go wide, "oh shit- i mean, oh no!" you feel odd swearing around an elderly though you're really only muttering to yourself, "did i buy that much stuff?"

for some odd reason that he's unable to pinpoint just yet, jeno perks up at that and, seemingly involuntarily, offers, "i got you." he slips his wallet back out, eyeing the twenty dollar bill clutched in your hand. jeno holds out a fifty to mrs. poppy and she takes it before you can protest. you protest anyways, "jeno, wait- no, you don't need to- i could just take some stuff out, you know." he merely nods along, a small smile edging upwards on his lips. mrs. poppy hands you the change and your bagged items and you shove the bills towards jeno who, though no longer needed, is just standing there. he refuses with a shake of his head and hand in tandem, leading the way to the exit but before the two of you make it two steps, mrs. poppy smiles wide before mumbling, most likely meant to herself but discernible to your ears anyways, "looks like someone has a crush on you, dearie."

jeno's heart speeds erratically, again for reasons he has yet to comprehend, and his head snaps to make sure you hadn't heard what he'd just heard. eyes wide upon realizing you had, his head snaps back into place to avoid your teasing gaze. jeno utters a curt, "see you around," the second he's out the automated doors and speed walks to his car, the contents of the plastic bag jostling with each ushered step.

the door to his pristine condition '93 chevrolet vette, his baby, shuts behind him. the grocery bag is set in the passenger's seat, mindlessly. jeno starts up the engine but stays put. he can see you across the parking lot, trying to find the keys to your hyundai kona, the white one that's now a certified gray. he chuckles.

he chuckles at the fact that it's been years upon years and you still have yet to fail to put a smile on his face. he chuckles at the fact that it's been years and your cheery, snarky persona has not changed one bit. he chuckles at the fact that he stills finds every aspect of you effortlessly charming, for so many and no reasons all at once. he chuckles at the fact that he still, still feels the need to impress you every chance he gets. perhaps, things haven't changed all that much.

"i'm home!"

shuffling off your shoes, you hear snippets of your mom's voice coming from the living room. a hand on the doorframe, you push yourself up, only to realize that she isn't even talking to you. rather, and upon entering the room, she's on the phone, unaware of your entrance and exclaiming into the jabbed speaker as she crochets a baby blue piece into existence. stepping into her line of vision, you give her a small smile in return to her nod of acknowledgement before moving on into the kitchen.

you've only just finished up with storing the flour into the pantry when you notice your mom has followed you into the kitchen as well, phone supposedly hung up. she sets her elbows, leaning, onto the counter as she watches you put away the baking goods. there's a glint in her eyes that you're wary of. sure enough, "guess what?"

"mom, i'm not interested in going on another blind date. not after what happened last time with that son of your cowork-"

"no, no, nothing like that," and though her words contradict what you thought was to be another stood up date, you're still on edge for the glint in her eyes has anything but subsided, "i was just going to inform you that mrs. lee's son is back in town."

your eye roll reverts itself halfway. crossing the room, you lean opposite of her on the counter. "you mean jeno?" she nods in slight confoundment. "yeah, i just saw him." your mother leans a little further and her voice comes out bordering a whisper though no one is around to hear but you and there's nothing scandalous to what she's saying, "mrs. lee tells me he's almost six feet tall! is that true?" you lean forward as well, not in interest, but in actuality to grab at the nutmeg extract. "pfft, as if. i'd say five eleven at best."

the humor in your eyes is enough to get your mom to defend her trusted source, "oh, i bet he's getting there." you shake your head, "he's twenty-one mom, i doubt he's still growing." turning your back on her to prop open the spice rack, her voice mumbles along, "you never know…" she relents and moves onwards to the next topic in line, eyes eager, "so, did you get to talk to him?"

she's busying herself with tying up the plastic bags for later use as trash can liners when you turn back around, "i did but i mean, it was short," you gesture to the rest of the food you've yet to put away, "but he did pay for most of this." her face is drawn in teasing and she's about to comment on 'how sweet of him that was' when she realizes what you'd just said. "why? did you not have enough money?"

"no, i only brought a twent-"

she hits you lightly with a tied bag before sticking it in the compartment under the sink with a huff, "how dumb can you be to only bring twenty dollars to a grocery store? especially with all that junk food you always buy." now that's the motherly nagging you're more used to. but the teasing comes back soon after when you're upon exiting the kitchen in favor of changing out your clothes. "why don't i make some food for them so you have an excuse to pay him a visit?"

you very clearly remember your mother's propositions of your wedding all those years ago, after you'd gotten your first boyfriend. she didn't even really like him but it was enough that you did. she'd sworn her preparations were all neat and ready when you'd sat her down to tell her that you'd broken up with him. turning on your heel, your mother's eyes expectant, you give her a knowing shake of your head, a warning for ever since that first boyfriend, you'd refused to tell her a thing about your love life, a torturous prospect for her and just the right thing to ward off any of her coming interventions.

as for her incessant questions that were still sure to come, you supply her with this, "i'm sure he'll come visit us first!"

and in some way, you're right.

head and hands on the wheel, you let out the shakiest of breaths, and another and another until the air before you is laden thick with heat. you release the knuckle-white grip that held the wheel, the pads of your finger an angry red. sighing, you let yourself fall back in the seat with your sights set on the blinking red light under the speedometer, your ears ringing at the blaring alarm. another sigh escapes your lips, vaguely resembling a shudder, as you jerk the keys from the ignition. the red light and the alarm cease and you exit your car.

jeno nearly crashes as he turns the corner onto his street. he didn't expect to see you so soon after the horrid scene at the grocery store the other day, the other day being yesterday. he slows the car as he approaches your driveway, rolls down the window of the opposite seat and ducks, only to see you, hands fisted and on your hips, a similar stance to the one he'd seen yesterday; he blushes unknowingly.

the purr of a nearing car sounds from behind and you whip around to catch the red finish of his vette as it comes to a stop along the sidewalk. tucking a lip under teeth, you cross the length of your driveway to meet the boy in the car. the crease in your brow unsettles him. he clears his throat, "hi, y/n. fancy seeing you around here."

"jeno, i live three houses down from you."

he's not in that green shirt anymore, thank goodness, and he'd prepared for this exact scenario with a slightly more put together outfit. the outfit consisting of a hoodie and sweatpants with his socks and sandals. but now that he thinks about it, he still feels slightly underprepared, "that's right…," he does his best to not sound unintelligent, "what happened there?"

"ahh," fisted hands are back on your hips and a war is brewing within him, fighting to keep his composure. you look back at your car, which looks fine to the eye, "apparently i have a flat tire and i-"

"were you driving when it happened?" jeno gets out of his car as he speaks, questions shooting like rapidfire, "was it on the freeway? how bad is it- wait no, are you injured?"

jeno and his furrowed brows are fast advancing on you and you take a step back in surprise but under the guise of moving back towards your car. genuinely, you weren't quite sure why you hadn't thought of jeno being a 'car person,' especially when that's exactly what his car tells of him. "i don't really know but the alarm went off right before i got off the freeway so nothing serious happened." the two of you tread down the side of your house, back up the driveway. "which one is it- oh, i see." jeno bends down the side of the rear left wheel, a solid smack and squeeze applied and he looks up and back at you, "a nail probably, you got a spare?"

you nod, "i'm pretty sure." crossing your legs you cock an eyebrow at him, at your suspicions. there's something about you being right about all your little inklings because he confirms them almost instantaneously, "i can fix it up for you then," a smile eases onto his face as yours perks up, "really? i mean you really don't have to, i can just go get it-"

"how are you gonna get the car to the shop then?"

and that's how jeno finds himself hauling the car jack from his garage, to yours while you cradle the tools needed in both hands, trailing behind him. he gets to work with the wheel cover as you maneuver around your own garage for the spare and when you find it, you sigh. sighs, seem to be very plentiful, maybe a preferred form of communication this one day. "jen," you wedge yourself back to the driveway between your mom's car and the built-in cabinets. jeno's eyes are focused upon the lug nuts but his eyebrows are raised in expectancy.

"gosh, i'm sorry, but it's- the spare's kinda heavy...do you mind? you know…" you feel bad for asking, almost reluctant but with a wave in the general direction of your hands, he gets it well enough, "oh, it's no problem. i'm here to help you anyways." jeno retrieves the tire with a smile on his face.

you stand off to the side and watch as he raises the back end of the car (seven inches, he said), removes the loosened lug nuts, pulls off the flattened tire, and pushes the spare into place. you give remarks and ask questions once and awhile, all of which must seem pretty dumb to him though he answers each one with a smile and a reassurance to make sure you've understood. tightening the bolt, replacing the tire cover, and lowering the car is done within minutes and he's left rubbing his sullied hands on the towel hung upon his shoulder.

jeno stands and looks over at you. the little complacent smile you've put to show tells a lot about how bothersome you feel in the moment. "you don't have to feel bad, y/n. i offered."

you nod as he packs up his things, blindly handing over the wrench and uttering a thank you in your daze. heading inside, you note that the heater is on and that the window next to the door offers a view of the busying boy. you watch as he leaves and you watch as he comes back again to drive his car up into his garage.

there's something about your inclinations that you can't shake. either the fact that you haven't been home in three years is really getting to you, maybe you're just horny, or whatever is brewing in that head of yours is telling you that first loves stick with you even when they're gone, even when you've been given reasons to get over them, and even when you really are over them.

but when they're there, when he's there, in all his glory, there's only so much you can refuse.

thirteen-year-old donghyuck is a mean little shit, that we all know, and when he eventually pieces one and one together to make two, he's bound to act on it.

especially when one is the fact that you've been skipping out at lunch for "group project" reasons for the past two months and the other one is that jeno has also been skipping out at lunch for "club meeting" reasons, also for the past two months. he's dumbfounded at the fact that it's taken him this long to track the two of you down and he almost wants to laugh at the situation at hand.

donghyuck guesses the slats of the bleachers block him out of your view, but he's certainly in the perfect spot to see the both of you, under the bleachers sitting atop jeno's jacket, meaning that there was barely a space in between you and him. his pride would have been hurt, after all his newest revelation comes in the discovery of his two best friends leaving him with jaemin and renjun during lunchtimes, also his best friends but he grumbles at the thought of being left with those two (one being a flirty little shit and the other an annoying little shit, not all that different from himself; you'd think he'd tone down his mean-ness after witnessing, firsthand, renjun's mirror antics).

a hand of yours is flipping through the pages of a textbook while the other holds a subway sandwich, at which he observes jeno to steal bites from every time you look away towards the book. the scene sprawls into a mess as you begin to notice when jeno tugs particularly hard at the string of cheese that's been pulled far too long. the boy gets a flick on the forehead and an impish smile forms; he almost looks elated to be caught by you.

before he even knows it, donghyuck's onto something, and much more than something he can simply tease you about, oh no, this is the real deal. he reroutes his mind to the image he'd retired from—ducking his head back under the cover of the bush—to the image of you and jeno, smiley, giddy, and secluded from everyone else. the image of jeno and the little giggles he gives as red blossoms on his forehead from where you'd flicked him. and the image of you and your suppressed smile as you try to retain your thinly-veiled frustrations from him. this is it, his friends are falling in love. he's convinced and he also has now appointed himself as the wingman, the cupid in disguise.

the thing is, we're talking about donghyuck (mean little shit) here, not jaemin. so when jeno waltzes into his shared sixth period class, spewing some apparent nonsense of how his club meeting went, (perhaps something that you and him had mutually and meticulously coordinated), donghyuck sits him down in the seat next to him and leans in for a whisper, "i'm gonna ask out y/n today, what do you think?"

jeno doesn't respond, he doesn't even seem to have remotely heard him. or if he did, he must've suddenly underwent a malfunction of sorts because the boy is quite literally just sitting there, staring listlessly at the empty beaker and the lab tools in front of him.

"jeno? are you hearing me?"

lee jeno, instead of feeling a sudden urge to race donghyuck to the finish line, to confess to you before he does, rather feels defeated, deflated, discouraged. donghyuck is a terrible judge of his character for he pushes on, "do you think i should do it right after school today or tomorrow?"

he gulps and while his eyes are still deep in rumination, his mouth is already squeaking the worries have come to haunt him in the last thirty seconds, "you like her?" donghyuck's eyes glint with mischief that the heavens wish jeno hadn't missed though fair enough, they think, because his thoughts are all over the place as donghyuck goes on to respond, "yeah, i've liked her for awhile now," sounds familiar," been wanting to tell her for the longest time," me too, "and i've been kinda scared to," well i'm scared shitless, "but i think i'm ready now," i'm not.

"i think you should go for it," jeno deadpans, eyes still trained on the glass, 500 mL beaker that is very interesting.

donghyuck nearly jumps out of his seat, "wait what?!"

"yeah, you should jus- why're you so surprised- no, why are you even asking me?" jeno finds it much easier to play the role of a supportive friend rather than a jealous rival. he thinks it was rather dumb of him to assume that he was the only one going after you all these months and that he could take his sweet time in confessing and growing your relationship. at least, that's usually how his classroom daydreams go.

but at the same time, they only go that way because though it really has been a few long months, jeno knows that he's still a long way from making his sentiments known to you. he's a reliable kind of guy, who's reliance is often built upon trust. and while the little folder in his mind of all the possible telltale signs that you like him back has been steadily growing, he needs to know definitively for really, thirteen-year-old jeno lacks the courage. even more so now that his best friend, donghyuck, displays the exact courage he needs to confess. jeno figures that his folder must be gargantuan in comparison.

donghyuck doesn't confess to you, not at all, but he makes a show of rushing out the class right when the clock strikes three, leaving jeno to collapse into himself in utter despair. shoulders hunched over, he counts the minutes until he deems it safe to leave. his chair scrapes the floor with a resounding squeak as he stands up, the chemistry classroom now empty. running his fingers through his hair, he makes sure he doesn't cross paths with you as he navigates for the exit, purposely avoiding the area of the campus with your locker and last class.

jeno makes it home with a heavy heart, far heavier than what could be the doing of any simple crush. stupid of him to think it a simple crush when the tug of his heart squelches and sqirms like there's no tomorrow, but it's only years after that he realizes the ache in his heart was the payoff of his first love.

he'll admit that he's never asked what actually happened that day, a part of him was terrified to even imagine the prospects of you and donghyuck being a thing. and even if that wasn't the case, he wasn't keen to risk it in the first place.

so jeno cries on the night his mother bore him the news that he'd be transferring schools. he'd have friends there, sure, jaemin had made the same decision and chenle was to follow in the year after. he'd have the opportunity to make new friends, to start fresh as a high school student but the biggest problem he faced was that there would be no you.

no you to greet in the hallways two minutes before class as you rushed your books into your backpack, slamming your locker shut in a frenzy with your elbow. no you to catch dozing off in history, math, english, and probably all the other classes he didn't but wished he shared with you. no you to sneak off with during lunch, far from your noisy (and nosy) friends and a hair's distance apart from each other. no you to stare at when class gets a little too boring, to share an eraser with, to brush fingers with, to steal bites of a sandwich from.

jeno cries because he'll never get the chance to ask you to prom, he's quite sure you'd never want to attend another school's. he cries because he doubts he'll have the fortitude to text you on a daily, to text you at all, to keep in touch. he cries because in his eyes, the dwindling remainders of your relationship are coming to a close.

one day or another, it'll come to him that it was because of those very thoughts that they actually do.

"oh no, no you definitely planned for this to happen."

"did not!"

"so you're telling me that having me go three houses down to ask the boy that you just so happen to think is cute and the same age as your daughter to go tree shopping with me because you can't carry a tree and dad just so happens to be at work right when you desperately need the tree-" your rambling ceases abruptly as you struggle to find the correct structure of your question that, for emphasis purposes, had derailed itself, "...is all just happenstance?"

"yes," your mother has the straightest look on her face. you're sure she's having a hard time keeping it that way. "unbelievable." she keeps the straight face pretty well and the staring contest you're currently participating in with the snowman candle behind her is futile and broken as you grumble, "fine." your mother has the gall to lift her face into a smile almost immediately upon hearing that.

in all honesty, your reflection in the mirror looks pretty damn good. after spending the few of your days back home in tracksuits and large tees—a minimum effort outfit—dressing up a tad bit for today was certainly not a bad idea, your favorite green corduroy coat making its appearance in the december cold.

the same reflection can be seen in the glass of jeno's front door, the door that swings open right as you're about to ring the doorbell for the third time. his mother is the one who answers and she seems a great deal surprised. "y/n! oh wow, you've grown quite a bit since i last saw you."

you giggle with her, partially out of incredulity because of course you've grown, the last time you really saw her was at your middle school graduation. "it's nice to see you, mrs. lee." she opens the door wide, the smile on her face beaming just as wide, "i assume you're here to see jeno. let's see," the door shuts behind you, "he should be over in the garage," and she leads the way through the house, the layout teeming with renewed familiarity.

"the garage is just down there, sweetie," pointing at the door far down the hall, to the left, "tell me if you guys need anything, okay?"

"will do," you give her a warm smile as she treads off.

pushing at the handle, you think first that jeno isn't there at all but then there's the sounds of metal clanking and his legs that are situated outwards from under one end of his car. in a fear to startle him with your presence, you decide upon a clearing of your throat and a small but sure, "jeno, it's me," to which he responds with a surprised grunt and the further clanking of his tools.

there's the squeaking of his mechanic's creeper before he draws himself straight before you. you nearly give a double take because, well because he's without a shirt, he's shirtless, he's half naked. however you want to put it, it's the dead of winter and he's standing there with his toned chest bare and glinting with sweat while the two of you furiously blush without even looking at each other.

"y/n," his voice comes out strained, "wha- what are you here for?" jeno fusses around hurriedly for a shirt, any shirt, any article of clothing, any piece of fabric. the shirt he eventually finds is almost enough to get him to put it back down but he's desperate. your eyes glimpse across his body once again, and entirely on accident, before he slips the bright green material over his head, your own head snapping in the other direction.

the two of you stand diagonally in opposition to each other, seemingly speaking to no one in particular, "i'm- i came to ask if you'd want to go christmas tree shopping with me? since i don't think i'd be able to by myself…?" you turn towards him, the tension in the air somewhat subsiding, the difference a mere shirt could make.

he stance is awfully rigid as he responds, "yeah, no yeah i can definitely go with you. right now though?"

"if it's not too much to ask of you then yes, right now."

"oh okay, i can do that, i jus-" jeno catches your line of vision dip down to his shirt, he squirms under your gaze, "-i, do you mind waiting for a bit while i get washed up?" eyes flitting back up to meet his, you nod fervently, "fine by me."

the shower runs in the background of your thoughts as you swing your legs off the side of jeno's bed, the same bed he had all those years ago that's sill littered with random pencil marks and stickers on the headboard. the walls adorn large prints of cars, none of which you can identify but you're intrigued nonetheless by how well his childhood room entwines his whole lifespan together. there's mvp trophies on the bookshelf just opposite of you and if you squint, you can see the fine print that spells 'lee jeno, 2015 varsity swim mvp.' a certificate on the wall titles his participation in some algebra competition, a few ribbons to demonstrate his scientific achievements, and a little under where those are pinned into the wall is a framed and familiar picture you haven't seen in a long while.

it's the five of you, eighth grade graduation, with mark behind the camera and chenle and jisung far off in the background. jeno's in the dead center with one arm draped around donghyuck and the other around you, though you're noticing for the first time how the arm around donghyuck falls limp while the arm around you is held tight. gears are turning and shifting in your mind but before you can come to any sort of conclusion on what that could possibly denote, the door to the bathroom on your left is held open.

jeno's dressed fittingly, you think, for christmas tree shopping that is. the green of his sweater matches the green of your jacket and jeno makes sure to comment on that as he reverses his car out of the driveway even though his choice in clothing was deliberately made to match your own. he catches a glimpse of your car in your own respective driveway on the way out the street and at that, he already has another conversation queued and in mind.

"you took your car to the shop, right?"

you find that your eyes dry out if you face them forward for too long, the heat blasting from the front is doing its job well enough. you don't complain though, jeno's just making sure it's not too cold in the car. "yeah, i went this morning. was also going to get it washed but my mom had other plans."

"other plans being making you go buy the tree, i'm guessing."

you click your tongue, "exactly."

silence hangs between the two of you as he veers into the freeway entrance, mulling over what to say next. bring two seven years disconnected best friends together and you'd think there'd be more to talk about but today must be an exception, the only other words exchanged being the following.

"you know, i could wash it for you."

"i've already asked you for too many favors."

"i mean," jeno gives a smile to the side, "you could help."

a smile of your own forms as you muse on, "i could."

"tomorrow?"

"tomorrow."

jeno pulls into a makeshift parking space for the vast christmas tree lot you've decided to buy from this year, your usual having moved further out of town disappointingly. although with all things considered, you doubt there's much of a difference between the trees that are leftover for the few days before christmas and as suspected, the selection isn't all that impressive.

your town and neighboring seemed to have taken a liking towards fraser firs this year, no surprise in that, which leaves the dilapidating alternatives of douglas and noble firs, both of which would be fine if one wasn't prone to browning in a week and the other wasn't so tall. jeno holds up the last of the trees up and you do your routine inspection by viewing it from three feet away to seven, and ten. the boy scrunches his nose as you give a shake of your head, "too full, how are we even gonna decorate it?" and he sets it back against the fencing with a huff, "now what?"

"now, we…," you're unsure as well, eyes roving across the farm to give any candidate of tree a second chance. that's when you're hit with a revelation, well two revelations. rather sardonically, the wilting pines of the trees lead you to the first of your revelations; you're quite literally standing in a tree graveyard and if you were to go so far as to compare it to a graveyard in itself, there comes the thought that you've came with the purpose of buying a poor, dead tree to take it home and prop it back up as if it were alive, dressing it and decorating it, only to throw it to the curb a few weeks later. funny how all your life that seemed perfectly rational.

but christmas is a tradition, and traditions don't necessarily have to die even though they're faulted from the start, certainly not if you can help it.

jeno gives an eensy yelp as in a sudden flurry, you take the sleeve of his sweater between two fingers and drag him down and through the aisles of decaying trees to find the very thing that'd ignite your little light bulb. he's dawdling behind you, best he can, as your steps quicken and stop almost as abruptly before a sizeable army of potted christmas trees, smaller but also more alive than the usual lot. "how's this then?"

"i'm on board," jeno's beside you now and ever-so-aware that your fingers are still gripping his sweater. it doesn't stop there, however, because now your hands are enveloping his arm in its entirety and you're speaking softly, "of course you are, you're not even needed anymore," the words coming close to his ears from the proximity you've set. they don't warrant a blush by any means and for certain, the reason he's blushing aren't the words, it's you.

you leave his side as you release your hold on his arm, though it seems as if he's the only one who notices. a few steps away, you crouch in front of one that suits your likings to a T. you barely notice jeno's presence behind you, reading off the tag and muttering to yourself, "sustainable, affordable, replantable, eco-friendly, a natural scent, convenient...oh boy, i think we get it." upon further observation you decide that this one's the one—the green is vibrant to the tips and it's just full enough that the pines poke out in all the directions needed to support a modest amount of tinsel. "jeno, i think this is it-"

really, you really really had no idea that he was right there, head right above your shoulder. if you had known, you wouldn't have turned your head in the first place, much less allowed your lips to brush his, however brief. evidently flustered, the two of you snap your sights back ahead, at the same time, with both your hearts beating at the same, turbulent pace. you bring a hand up to your lips, partially in shock and partially in the thought that you basically just kissed lee jeno.

"sorry about that, i didn't think you'd turn…"

even when he's speaking, you don't dare look over at him. but in comparison to the tempestuous replays you're imagining, jeno's thoughts rumble a deeper current than anything he's felt all winter break.

the pot of the chosen tree rests against his hip as he stands a little off to the side to let you pay. he watches you keenly and uses the opportunity to scrutinize what exactly about you makes him feel that one way. as of the late, he finds that none of his emotions are describable and it's frustrating to say the least when all he knows is that the cause of his inner turmoil is you. you and your little sniggers whenever his clumsy side acts out too much for his liking, you and your undeniable affection for all things sweet and all things spicy, and you and your fisted hands on your squared hips, a fighting stance perhaps, a ready-to-throw-hands stance most definitely.

but finally, he gives his feelings a name when he witnesses in the rear view mirror, you and the little smile that creases your eyes, lifts your cheeks, bares your teeth, as you strap in the potted plant to the back seat, giving it a gentle pat as if it were your own child. he names it 'the long lost crush, the one that got away, the second season of his middle school one-sided affair, the-'

"are we...gonna go?"

jeno jumps in his seat, "huh? oh." hand on the gear stick, he avoids your gaze fervently and pulls out of the spot. there's a shift in the air, at least from his end, and he thinks it has something to do with how he's come to terms with the fact that he likes you, again. is he surprised? no. why not?

because he knows this much, the longer you're by his side, the less it can be helped. he remembers every night in high school when, even in the time the two of you'd stopped talking, he'd stare lethargically at his ceiling before he went to sleep and imagine you by his side. he remembers another handful of nights in college when, long after he'd thought he was well over you, he still found himself rethinking your smile and refiling that folder of his. time carried on, and though he didn't necessarily have a heartbreak for it to heal, it wouldn't have mattered anyways because in his case, time could never heal. not for him and not in the face of you.

so jeno laughs along with you when he trips over your front steps, he sets both hands on the doorframe and leans in ever so slightly to say his goodbyes, and when the door shuts behind him, he takes a good look back over his shoulder anyways, hoping that you'd pop your head at the window, that you'd catch his lingering gaze. jeno's steps are resolute because he's not thirteen anymore. it's no longer about whether you like him back or not, it's about dealing with the fact that he likes you. and if his coping mechanisms come in the form of pushing his bounds as just a friend, flirting an obscene amount, and perhaps even confessing, then so be it.

jeno decides that, this time around, he would rather risk heartbreak than love you in silence for seven more years.

propping a knee, you catch the back end of the trash bin before it can thud on the pavement beneath you. a huff and a grunt are uttered into the air as you push it against the fenced side of your house, to the curb. you slide it against the elevated sidewalk, down onto the road, and it gives a resounding thump as it hits the ground. you dust off your hands and pivot to retrieve the last one and upon setting that one down in the spot adjacent to the previous, in the corner of your eye is perceived a figure.

born of instinct, you almost rush back into the house, a case of kidnap tends to loom when you're a young adult female taking out the trash in the dead of night. but another glance is given and the silhouette draws familiar notion, broad shoulders and especial proportions, not to mention the bright green you catch in the light of his porch lamp. it's jeno, and a hand of his clamps over his nose as the other thrusts a plastic bag into the black bin. and it's when he turns to retreat into his residence that his eyes catch you as well and he jumps a bit, recollects himself, waves, and watches as you wave back in the hopes that he could maybe approach you.

instead, he finds that you're the one approaching him and that somehow makes it all the more nerve-wracking as he rushes to meet you in the middle. even a simple, "hi," from you makes his cheeks grow warm. he's breathless when he speaks, and not because of the brisk actions he undertook prior, "hey there."

"are we still on for tomorrow?"

jeno's mouth parts as he retraces his memory to extract what exactly was planned for tomorrow. "ahh, yeah i can do tomorrow...morning?" you clasp your hands behind your back as you nod along, "morning it is then." your lips quirk to the side as you place your gaze on anything but him, to pass time, perhaps to make the silence a little more bearable. jeno's voice is so low the next he speaks, it almost spooks you out of your wits, "have you met up with any of the boys yet?"

his eyes keep their track on you as you take a few steps to the edge of the curb, lowering yourself atop it, "well, i hung out with hyuck the other day," you motion for him to sit beside you and he follows suit, "and i think he mentioned wanting to do some reunion thing at his house. i don't know, i'll have to ask." jeno stirs in his thoughts for the time being. hyuck. though he'd kept in touch with the boy after middle school and a bit after high school, even his name brings up a shitload of memories. "have you?"

"huh?" his eyes whirl to meet yours, "oh. for me, mostly just jaem, and renjun too the other day."

conversation seems to flow intermittently between you two, ongoing or nonexistent at all, for another lapse of silence is thrown into the mix. the air is certainly not governed by awkwardness, jeno feels that the time you've spent with him in the last few days guarantees at least that. but it's also laden with a sort of tension you can't quite place, a territory you're unwilling to traverse into. you move past your thoughts and voice only a sliver of them aloud, suppositionally, "if- if we do meet up, like all of us, do you think it'll be weird?"

"weird how?"

"weird as in…well, a lot's changed, since we were thirteen, and we haven't been in a room together all at once, since we were thirteen."

"i don't know. i think," he shrugs, "i think we'll be fine, me and you at least." jeno likes saying 'we' when it pertains to you and him. he mumbles it over a few times, under his breath, and though it's not entirely out of your earshot, you're far too busy taking long and zoned-out glances at him to notice. that in itself is something he surely notices.

undoubtedly, you must not be the only person in the world to think that jeno grew up well. lee jeno is kind, kind enough to grant you all the favors you've asked of him. lee jeno is warm, you feel he emanates warmth even by simply sitting by his side. lee jeno is sincere, his smiles beam of genuinity and his words are coated in truth. and in the spotty moonlight, flitting in between the boughs of the tree just above, lee jeno is good looking, chiseled jaw, pretty lips, those eyes. but more than that, he lives up to his good looks. you can only wish you'd been there to see him grow up, to grow up with him.

"jen?"

"yes?"

you tap your toes alternatingly on the scratchy pavement, your eyes and his as well are trained on them. licking your lips, you take your gaze from your feet to his side profile and your breath hitches before you speak, "what...what happened to us?"

jeno reverts his eyes onto your own, "what do you mean?" now you're staring right at each other which is usually how any conversation should be, but conversations between you and him seem to always be an exception. fiddling with your fingers, you trace your sights back down to your feet, "you said that we'd keep in touch. well, we both said that."

in truth, as much as the distance that divided the two of you could be denoted from his seemingly unrequited feelings for you, there was much less of a romantic touch in what happened for the most part. for the most part, things panned out as they usually do when two people, once close and once sworn to never not be close, end up being separated by the one thing that brought them close in the first place. that is not to say that your friendship with jeno had no value outside of school and school-related things but really, school was the one thing that made it so you saw the boy day in and day out, shared with him an intimacy that could only be reached with that basis of interaction. more than any derivative of feelings that could drive the two of you apart, your friendship was split by the common ground idea that people come and go. perhaps it was fate that wielded the sorts, perhaps it was merely meant to be. and if you were to chalk it up to fate, you could say that meeting jeno again, like this, was fate as well.

but jeno here, twenty-one-year-old jeno as opposed to thirteen-year-old jeno, would like to come clean with his feelings. at least his feelings of way back when, because this turn of the conversation had churned a past within him that he had yet to be willing to unearth; that is, until now as he susurrates, "because i liked you." jeno feels his eyes gloss over involuntarily, "and with the whole high school transfer and everything, it just kinda all fell apart."

he looks to the other side, as naturally as he can, but there's the unmistakable shuffle of feet from behind him and when he turns back around, sure enough, you've inched closer than his current mental state can handle. you watch as jeno blinks, his eyes lain upon your lap, and a tear proceeds to trace its merry way down his cheek. you catch it with the sleeve of your sweatshirt but even after he's cried through his emotions, your hand stays there, cupping his cheek.

the tips of your fingers protrude from the fabric of the sleeve and they, your thumb in particular, swipe across the heights of his cheeks and the bags under his eyes. your own eyes are soft on his, soft in knowing and in understanding because, "well if it offers you any comfort, i liked you too."

jeno, though fresh in the surprise of revelation, feels an ease pool his mind. he takes a hand and brings it to cup the side of your face as well, mirroring your actions with an equal, loving gaze that holds the memoirs of your cherished past. a past that no longer tugs at his mind, begging for his attention, that no longer muddles his afflictions between what is new and what is old, and a past that he can now move on from, with renewed finality.

you break the exchange with a breathy laugh. a smile stretches across his face. the one hand on his face turns into two and the same is applied to you sequentially. two twenty-one-year-old college students sit on the curb in front of a house that belongs to neither of them but rather lies in between their respective homes. they sit side by side, their eyes boring deeply into one another's and, with both hands clamped on the cheeks of the other, occasionally squishing to produce the silliest of expressions, they laugh and they imbue in the elation of being at peace with their entwined pasts.

when you stand first, brushing off the dust on your bottom, jeno, still sitting, catches your wrist and lets the quirk of his lips and a small, "thank you," express the lengths at which the conversation had gone in its endeavors to mend a somewhat dysfunctional relationship. but now in full functionality, jeno wonders if his feelings still persist.

and if there's one thing to tell him they do, that they're as present as ever if not more so than before, it's the way he blushes warm when you entangle his grip on your wrist into your hand, giving his palm a brief squeeze before you look down upon him with an enraptured smile of your own. he watches you take your leave and, in the blackness of night, he thinks you are the most personable being to have ever walked in his life. he thinks he wouldn't mind another seven years, though only if he was promised to have you by his side the whole while.

"you mind if i tag along?"

yeah, i mind. jeno clicks his tongue, "no."

"you sure?" hyuck edges him on, nudging his old friend with the end of the hose. jeno can only roll his eyes at that, taking the hose from him, "not like i have a choice if she brought you here in the first place." jeno, while watching you roll up the windows of your dirtied car, can't help but wonder why you had to bring this damned boy. he really thought that after such a heartfelt moment the two of you shared just the past night, you would have been more open to venturing into alone, one on one, time with him. he does his best to clip back the snarky tone that's just waiting to be let aloud whenever donghyuck speaks.

"so who do you think's gonna be third wheeling today? me or you?"

"you," jeno bleats with not a second to spare. though he's sure the boy means it all in good-natured fun, jeno's dead serious when he says, "guess we'll just have to see who prevails."

and that, oh dear, that is sure to bring out the competitive temper of the one and only lee donghyuck, winner of all games ever played. jeno knows he's perhaps just dug a hole for himself, a shovel in hand and all, because right off the bat, hyuck is off to hog all of your attention and very rarely does he fail with his witty remarks and his position as 'most recent best friend.' in fact, he's right in the middle of telling you what is sure to be the joke of the century when the idea pops into jeno's mind, a godsend.

he turns the knob on the hose to its fullest power before trudging off to the dial, his absence going unnoticed as you laugh at whatever hyuck has just said. donghyuck's turning to see if jeno has caught yet another point he's scored when he's met with a forceful discharge of water square to his face. it's four seconds of just standing there before hyuck remembers that he has the miraculous abilities of mobility, and upon moving out of the way in a terrible coughing and choking fit, the spray of the hose lands upon you.

jeno gives a squeal that's comparable to yours as you snatch the second hose from donghyuck's limps hands, his body now wilted rather dramatically across the hood of your car, and point it to jeno, dousing him full as you charge right at him. he doesn't move, to your liking and more because he feels bad for having just accidentally drenched you in freezing cold hose water in the dead of winter. the punishment he has willingly subjected himself to is also freezing cold, bone-chilling, and numbing to the core. but he doesn't mind it nearly as much when the gush of water hitting his chest stops and he runs a hand through his hair, clearing his eyes to reveal your smiley, smiling face that looks to be having way too much fun in the face of hypothermia.

he's left kneeling when the water clears and you are as well, though while he's kneeling from the sheer force of the deluge, you're kneeling out of laughter. trudging over to your spot a little ways from him, the blades of the grass of your front lawn beneath tickling the skin of his kneecaps, jeno blithely lifts a few stray and wet strands of hair out of your face, tucks them behind your ear. your laughter subsides into gentle smile, one that erupts into giggles recurrently, and jeno has the gall to steal a look a donghyuck, who has since recovered and is now staring at the scene itself, eyebrow cocked and a tongue jutting out his cheek in a challenge he gladly takes up on.

jeno returns from inside his house with the two towels he had his mom fetch, only two because in his eyes, it's only fair that donghyuck doesn't get one. needless to say, hyuck's displeased as he watches jeno pat and dry your hair as you sit, propped atop the hood of your car. jeno isn't all that surprised when his own towel gets stolen from his shoulder and the boy also props himself onto the hood, next to you. funnily enough, jeno's now the one who's displeased because you've taken the towel from donghyuck's hands and instead of using it to dry the damp ends of his own hair, like it was intended to be, you turn slightly and echo jeno's actions, but instead on hyuck.

and while jeno's nose scrunches in a distaste that only hyuck catches, his eyes seemingly everywhere all at once, you turn a tad bit further to the side to reach the back ends of hyuck's head of hair. jeno complains as your own head moves a little too far for his positioning and a hand leaves the towel to move you back into place. that meaning his left hand holds solid on your right thigh. that also meaning the sudden halt of your actions, jeno's too, as donghyuck simply stares, observes, analyzes, comes to a realization, and smirks.

jeno also comes to a realization that his hand is still, still on your thigh, shown in how his hand snaps back into the oblivion and beyond, and how the tips of his ears are exceedingly quick to flush a cherry red. his thoughts of just yesterday, 'get the girl!,' are now very much diminished as his stare fixates on the ground and the ground only, even as you ask for him to move a little to the right so you could slide off the hood, even as hyuck excuses himself to the guest bathroom, though his hand is quick to fish out his phone before he even enters the house. jeno's eyes are unmoving, even as time resumes around him, and even though he understands how crazed he must look in your eyes. he understands, but that's about it because it's nothing that can be helped.

you quirk a brow at the boy, eyes a flood of worry, and with those same eyes on him, lee jeno, in the middle of winter, begins to sweat. it starts at the palms, a sticky, tacky feeling but then he feels it creep at the back of his neck, coming in the form of a shiver of nerves. and although those two remain unnoticed, you bring a hand to his wrist to catch his attention because the beads of sweat forming along his temple have caught yours. "jeno, are you okay? you seem to be…"

jeno lifts his gaze from the floor, a feat no doubt, and brings his eyes to yours. there are many things he notes. one, the worry in your eyes irks him, he despises even more that he's the cause of it, however silly. two, your hand remains at his wrist, unsure in the lightness of touch but assured in how it stays put nonetheless. three, your lips, they're very pretty; an observation that he's always been aware of, but when your face is only a rough seven inches from his own, the observations become a fact, ingrained in his mind for now and forevermore whenever he so much as looks at you. though more unconscious, there's a four. he wants to kiss you. and in a way that's quite far from the simple, accidental brush of lips he'd shared with you just the day prior. it's significantly far, a dot in the distance.

he almost goes in for it.

"do you mind if i shower at your place? it's fucking cold."

you remove your hand from his wrist, jeno's fingers twitch in longing to reach after it. with your own fingers absentmindedly toying with the cinched waistband of your sweats, you shift your weight from one foot to another. remarkably, only your top half was drenched but that in itself was sure to trail little shivers up your spine. jeno avoids your gaze, feverishly, hand coming up to the nape of his neck. he mumbles a short, "sure," before turning upon his heel, leading into the house.

while hyuck is in the guest bathroom, you venture into the one through jeno's room which is noticeably cleaner since the last you were there. he tells you to wait there while he messes around in the bathroom, cleaning, but he leaves that detail out. one leg crossed over another, you bunch up the soaked hems of your shirt so as to not drip everywhere, standing there in apprehension and also halfway in the dark with the slatted blinds above his bed turned shut, the only source of light being the little that slips in between the slats. resolutely, you cross the room and gingerly lean a knee into the bed, reaching for the handle to twist them open. that's when you see it, slung upon the footboard of his bed.

that's also when jeno calls, voice distant and steps in a hurry as he pronounces, "i'll get you a shirt from my closet, hold up." but as he emerges from the bathroom, it seems that you have different plans. his eyes go wide as he sees the one, unfortunate garment he'd forgotten to put away this morning in your hands. yes, the bright green shirt from that one seventh grade math competition, with the now faded and very corny geometry joke proudly displayed on the front. it's that one that his mom asks him all the time why he never throws it out even though it's been years. he almost lets it show how he sulks into himself because they're his pajamas, and for a reason that he knows that you know and, to him at least, it's all the more embarrassing when you know. there's a lot of almosts today because jeno almost shits himself at the thing you say next.

"can i wear this one instead?"

the shy glint in your eyes and the light smile that glosses over your expression are all he needs to say, "sure," it comes out nonchalant but jeno is freaking the fuck out internally. you asking to wear that specific shirt suddenly made all the embarrassment garnered from it seem significantly less embarrassing.

he sits on the edge of his bed as the sounds of the shower going skirts his thoughts. feet kicking up and down, back and forth down the side, jeno sighs with his bottom lip tucked under his front teeth. he's directly opposite and in line with the one picture on the wall he couldn't dare put away in his prior and precautionary cleaning in the case that you would come over once again. the edges of the photo are frayed with time and brash handling, seen even in its frame, but if anything, the memory of it is intact as ever.

jeno thinks of all the things that would have gone differently, had he confessed to you that day as he planned he would. graduation day it was, and it was cloudy and on the verge of raining but his spirits weren't dampened in the slightest, clapping the loudest as you crossed the stage to shake hands with the principal, head awkwardly facing the crowd as your father had implored you to do so for his picture. his spirits were far dampened when you returned to your seat, a row ahead and a few down from where he was himself, mouthing a, "stop it," in annoyance as he mimicked your ungainly actions from just before. he felt that his spirits could never be dampened as he returned to his own seat, looking over in your direction automatically as you posed a thumbs up and another mouthing, this time an, "i'm proud of you," before getting caught by a passing supervisor and being forced to turn back around with a huff.

jeno remembers his spirits plummeting as he sat with you under the bleachers, for the last time, half his body situated on his jacket and the other on the scratchy grass. he didn't mind it as long as you were fully atop it yourself. despite what his quick wikiHow search on 'how to confess your love to someone,' there was no surge of confidence, not one stroke of it within him. he gave small smiles to your animated talking and the bare minimum of responses when prompted. and when you'd fished your phone out of your back pocket at the sound of a ping to see your mom texting you to go back to the field for pictures, he took your helping hand as he stood but even then, he couldn't dare be bold enough to keep your hand in his. with an arm set loosely across the back of donghyuck's shoulder and the other across yours, he made sure to hold you tight by his side, for fear and acceptance that this would be the last time he would have you there, by his side.

but as his gaze is pulled away from the picture, instinctively towards the sound of the door being propped open, jeno's reminded that, for now, you're all for his taking as long as he's up for the challenge. he watches as you linger by the door for a second, lip tucked under teeth yourself as you contemplate your next steps, next words. and as jeno watches, the shirt hanging tight on his figure but loose on yours, he can't help but think that this time around, he's in it to win it.

forms clutched in your left hand, all of them filled out in your neat, pencilled handwriting, you tap your toes impatiently. the line that you were currently in, placing at about the middle, was long and not at all to your liking. against your best wishes, your parents really had the gall to sign you up for this; you have foolproof evidence that math is your weakest subject, the foolproof evidence being a years and years accumulated stack of report cards. they claimed it was for you to get some extra practice and you'd countered that the annual math competition at your middle school was only really for the people in the advanced math placement, which you were most certainly not. you were still forced to go, though you declined the offer to buy the gaudy green shirt, but you were also right in saying that because none of the people in the line, at least of those in front of you, were from your class. you look towards the back end of the line to check the same so that you could provide extra evidence to your conviction, not that you were going to really need it after you took the test but you would like something to pair with your lacking results when rubbing it in to your dad later.

at first glance, there's no one really that you can spot but then you look at the person directly behind you and what you don't expect is it to be that one kid that is indeed in your class, your low level math class. he's quite the sight and you wonder why he didn't catch your eye earlier with his hair sticking up in all directions as he frightfully balances on one leg, his other hiked up and being used as a makeshift table. upon closer inspection, the paper he's furiously writing upon looks to be akin to your filled out form, only it's not filled out at all.

twelve-year-old jeno feels your gaze on him, and though he's verily preoccupied with writing, he's much more intrigued by your interest in him. head snapping up in a sudden movement and snarky in his greeting, "got something to say?" and it reminds you a little too much of hyuck to simply let it pass, "yes, i do." no, you actually don't so the empty pause you leave is in search of anything relevant. when you do happen upon something, your continuation is in equal snarkiness, "your hair's a mess."

at that, he stands up straight and you note how at the age of twelve, the boy is annoyingly taller than you, "shoot, really?" a hand rushes to pat down the straight strands in a hurry. a mild surprise lines your countenance at how the snarkiness ends there, watching as he furthers his comments, "i was in a rush this morning, that's probably why," and when you, again, have nothing to add, he goes to say, "renjun told me about this competition and i just had to do it."

now it's confusion that can be seen in your bewildered stare, you only knew about this since your mom is pta (parent teacher association) president; the competition, though advertised as open to all seventh graders, was only really promoted to the higher level math students, namely renjun and his lot. the kid, whose name you place to be jeno, friend of renjun's who's a friend of hyuck's, is now expectant in a response from you, less the conversations take a turn for the worse. you provide something short but enough to compose your inquiries, "why? who would want to do this?"

a part of you already knows. lee jeno, though you know little of him, sits at the front of your math class and never forgets to bring his glasses to school. a pencil is almost always in his hand when he raises it to ask a question at least ten times per lecture which is also the only reason you actually know of him because unlike him, you don't pay much attention at all in math class. jeno raises his eyebrows and replies as if his reasoning was common knowledge, "well i thought it'd be fun!"

"fun?"

"yeah!"

"fun how?"

jeno's standing complacently but his hands are making vague motions, "because you know…," a hands comes to the nape of his neck and he whispers as if his utterances were frowned upon for a lower level math student. to you they are indeed. "i like math."

"yeah no shit, you're the only one who participates in math." his eyes widen at your profanity, head snapping to see if anyone had heard. upon realizing something else, he motions for you to move forward, neither of you had noticed the line had started progressing onwards.

jeno's still on edge, eyes peering side to side to make sure no teacher had passed while you spat such a vulgar word, "shhh, what if someone hears you?!" a coy smile creases your eyes, you decide that you're certainly very fond of this boy, or at least you're very fond of teasing him. "then how about...damn?" jeno's startled. "ass?" jeno looks like he's on the verge of shitting his pants. thus you go on, "another shit?" the twelve-year-old's mouth drops wide open, "y/n-"

"asshole, dickhead, son of a bitch, mother fucker, your mom's puss-"

he's rushing right up to you and before you can proceed, jeno's hand is clamped tight over your mouth. "y/n, that's-" and as if he weren't already a close seven inches away from you, he leans in further and you swear his lips graze the side of your cheek as he whispers, "y/n, that's illegal," and suddenly and in your eyes, the humble, wide-eyed boy that you'd only thought to tease of has you floored with his gaze locked on yours, breath fanning across your skin. he looks good, even at twelve years, lee jeno is easy on the eyes.

you gulp, push him off, and turn back around to the line that'd moved up four people since the last you'd moved, leaving jeno to stand there, hands limp by his side and in complete neglectance of his still half-filled out form. it takes thirty or so seconds for him to move up in the line as well, the mutters from the people lagging behind him also going unnoticed. and when he does notice, taking a few steps forward and once again hiking his leg up to be used as a viable writing surface, it's only after he spent those same thirty seconds spaced out in aftershock of why he did that, or rather, where the sudden surge of confidence came from that had him in the position in the first place. perhaps that's the first time that jeno ever thinks of you a little differently, only because there's something about you makes it so he does things a little differently, makes it so he can't simply act normally around you.

and perhaps you've also undergone the same predicaments because you pay extra attention when the test is handed out, and the way your brows pull together with your eyes trained on the paper tells a lot about those normally divergent acts. you're the last to turn it in, even after the bookish jeno, and when he takes a glance at you across the room as he returns to his seat, a little smile creeps its way upon his lips.

the same smile is there when you plop down next to him in math class the following monday, right at the front of whiteboard, and there goes the tug of his heartstrings when you lean over, eyes in wonderment, to ask him a thing or two about hypotenuses or some of the sort which he more than happily obliges. jeno beams when you hold him back after class to show him your score on the unit final he'd tutored you for and he beams the year after that when the two of you both climb the ranks into the prestigious advanced level placement.

for many reasons, jeno proved to be a blessing in your life. your parents loved him specifically for the studiousness he instilled within you, something neither of you have ever pointed out but are in mutual understanding of. jeno was by your side through your traumatic first post-breakup stage, the douche of a boyfriend, or rather another twelve-year-old boy, had dumped your ass after two and a half days. jeno was the one who coughed into your ear during that one fateful game of telephone, the one played on the bus to the museum field trip; he'd defeated, and i mean absolutely crushed, donghyuck in a game of rock, paper, scissors to win the spot next to you, still a feat he considers one of his many prides to this day. jeno was the one who picked at your food, but also magically produced his own to share whenever you were without a lunch.

lee jeno was the epitome of right person, right time, and even though the same sentiments weren't carried all the way through, were interrupted, displaced, all the things he gave you, left for you, they stayed.

lee jeno remembers the day he met you with keen lucidity. he remembers all the days after that in a chorus of feelings that swept him in the most unintelligible way, after all, who expects to fall so deeply in love at the age of twelve. at twelve you'd think the thing you'd be most worried about would be having fun before high school, occasionally grades, or maybe even the changing appearances that come with puberty and puberty in itself. for a good chunk of it, jeno thought that his feelings could be explained by puberty but it proved especially ignorant of him to think the same in high school when his feelings that persisted were only sustained by the mere memory of you.

maybe it wasn't from day one, by no means was it love at first sight, second sight, or even third or fourth or fifth, but it was the succession of some inevitable process, the day you met through the day you graduated. to finish a thought, maybe lee jeno could have claimed spot as your boyfriend of seven years, had he not yielded in the face of profession. perhaps, you would have broken up already, the simple outcomes of distance and the natural order of relationships. would he have let you go? or would it have been you to call it off?

it's unfortunate that he'll never know, no matter how much he wonders, but of all the things he's sure of in the moment, it's that your laugh is the prettiest thing known to man, known to him. your feet dangle a significant amount over the edge of his bed, stark from his own toes that are stagnant and grazing the floor. he doesn't look over at you and his mumbles say enough of why, "i'm not kidding, y/n- don't laugh at me! i'm being serious, you really do."

"really now, you're telling me that i look good in your old pajamas. as if it weren't just to tease me."

"really!" his voice hits a pitch higher and he clears his throat, a scrunch of his nose at your laugh follows and denotes much regret in how he accidentally spoke his thoughts aloud in the first place. you really can't tell but he's trying his best to get in a few compliments, he'd heard that girls like flattery (he didn't hear, per se, he'd seen it somewhere online—read: wikiHow). "you look far better in it than i ever would."

with his hands on either side of him, jeno pushes himself upwards the bed, lowers his back upon the sheets, and folds his hands across his stomach. he didn't expect as such but you do the same. it's now that his heart sees it fit to speed its pace, only because of that one pesky thought that's infiltrated his mindset. you're in bed with him after all, and though it's nothing close to what would be considered crossing the line as two friends, the thought itself is enough to ignite a fervid warmth through his cheeks. his eyes are rigid on the ceiling when you speak, "do you even remember where this is from?" they itch to look over at you but he's afraid it'll be too obvious then; his plan is to woo you, not to make a fool of himself.

jeno senses the sheets stir from beside him and he can only guess what position you've assumed, and hopefully not the one where you're facing him while his everything is still aligned straight ahead. he hopes it's not because if it were, he'd be missing out on one of those *romantic moments* that he so wishes to achieve. jeno's inability to think straight, about positioning, hinders his ability to respond, something that's only brought to his attention when you perk up again, "jeno? did you hear me?"

jolted, his eyes instinctively snap to yours in the sense that yes, now he's facing you and yes, he sees that you're facing him also. there seems to be a little something lodged in his throat when he replies because it comes out as if his neck were a squeaky toy that'd just been stepped upon. "of course," he clears his throat with a grunt, "that math competition, seventh grade." jeno concludes that that something in his throat must be his heart because he can quite literally hear its beating in his ears and feel its thrum through his organs. he licks his lips and sits in silence, save the thumps of his heart, as his eyes trace to your own lips, not seven inches away.

"that's...that's when it all started," you muse, a hand coming up to brush a hair from your face and hitting jeno's chest on its way, as if just to remind him of how close you are. "i mean, for me that is."

pushing his rather uncivilized thoughts from his mind, jeno gives a, "what do you mean?" before dutifully returning to glancing at your lips. if you notice, you don't comment upon it, choosing rather to answer promptly, "i think that's when i started to like you." he gulps and says just about the same, "me too." jeno's nerves think they are just about ready for whatever is thrown his way but not until a leg of yours moves to nudge his gently. "wow, it's like we're meant to be." his nerves, they must be on fire now and just about ready to take on the whole world in its entirety because he notes with keen incredulity that your use of 'we're' could indicate that you still like him, the possibilities of it being an 'are' versus a 'were' are only fifty-fifty.

"yeah…," he trails off, misses the look in your eyes, shifts to land onto his back, eyes on the ceiling. you do the same and decide that it's enough of 'testing the waters' for today. but apparently jeno thinks otherwise because just as you're moving to sit upright, he spells a slither of his heart out for you, "you're my first love, you know."

jeno would like to pride himself in the usage of 'you're,' also vague and could be taken either way. upsettingly, he lacks the know-how to understand that what this situation needs right now is certainty to topple over the tension and teetering statements. he's a bit too used to hiding behind the veil of 'what ifs' and resting atop the net of safety to realize.

blinking up at the ceiling, you rustle to sit up once again, but not before donghyuck bursts through the door with an expression that sits pissed at first but melds into his signature leer as soon as he surveys the pair he's stumbled upon. "been looking for you two." jeno's shooting upright himself and all of a sudden, things are happening too fast.

there's two seconds before you're off and bounding towards hyuck as if he were your means of rescue; there's the, "what took you so long?" that slips from your mouth as if you'd been waiting for him all along instead of willingly giving jeno your time of day; there's donghyuck's phone that rests limp in his hand, by his side, but not yet clicked off because the screen gleams bright and it's showcasing jaemin's contact, a recent call most definitely; there's hyuck's response, muttered but in good humor, "i took a shit, that's why."

and then there's the sinking feeling that sets fire within jeno. maybe even jaemin as well but it's for certain and even further confirmed when hyuck's smirk makes its way to meet jeno's benumbed expression, his eyes locking with sickening devilry and the traces of a challenge. donghyuck knows. and though he's sure to take it upon himself to get the two of you together for once and for all, jeno knows far better, with experience in hand, that though his friend's sentiments are in support, his chances fair much higher when it's only him that's left to trifle with the dealings of his love life. only him, and his languishing confidence.

plucking a kernel from the carpet, you toss it into the bin over the arm of the couch. the paper towel on the same arm is used to rub off whatever dust had soiled your hand and it's returned to the bowl to rummage for another, slightly more buttered, popcorn. you wish that your mom was into those hallmark christmas movies, because in all honesty, you're quite the fan but you suppose 'rise of the guardians' ranks close enough. glancing down to the bowl in your lap for a second time, you groan upon realizing that the only reason you've been munching on the terribly unflavored popcorn was because you've already tired out the supply of the buttered ones. that enough gets you to set the bowl on the coffee table, done with snacking for the night as you pick up your two crochet hooks and get to work, your actions mirroring your mom's though she's a lot farther in her chain.

you suppose the movie is just about halfway through when you're sidetracked by how you've somehow messed up a turning chain, warranted though, as you're an amateur in the dark. it's a shame because you really would have loved to pay at least half attention to the very gorgeously animated character, jack frost, but are instead struggling. after reworking the chain a few times, you decided to give it a rest and set it aside as well. it seems that being a quitter is the overarching theme of today.

the sound of your head thudding against the back of the couch gets your mom to separate her attention as well. seeing your state, she opts to make conversation in the light that you're far from returning to the movie. it plays in the background, the only source of light in the living room. "how's the car?"

"clean." a sour mood you're in, it seems. your mom hesitates for a second before approaching a second question, "how's jeno been?"

"great. he's been great, mom." she sets down her crochet for the time being, the foot of hers that's jutting out of the blanket bouncing up and down. you doubt why you even tried to conceal your feelings with curt responses when really, you're unashamed in front of your mom. that's the sole reason why she deems it fitting to dig a little deeper, "anything you want to tell me?"

it's an, "of course," that has her crochet set in her lap for the rest of the night. you turn towards her in full, shifting your weight so that it faced her position on the armchair diagonal of the couch. sighing, you shove a tongue in consideration to the side of your cheek before pulling back the curtains a third of the way, "i think he likes me." your mother's eyes sparkle, she sets her hooks and yarn on the coffee table as well, urging you to go on with a nudge of her head. "but at the same time he doesn't?"

she nods in the processing of her thoughts, "so, mixed feelings?"

you nod along with her, "mixed feelings."

your mother never disappoints you when a situation of yours arises and she's bound to give you her advice, her very blunt, very to-the-point advice. "just ask him. i mean, if he rejects you, you're only going to have to see him for a few more weeks before you're back off to school."

and you never disappoint yourself when a situation of yours arises and you're bound to adhere to her advice, the very blunt, very to-the-point advice because as always, she's right. but then she muses on with the littlest care in the world, "or you could just mess around with him for a bit-"

"mom-"

"what's making you think i mean it in that way? did i really raise such a slu-"

"mom! oh my goodness-"

"i'm just saying," she drags on the word and you almost rush to interrupt her with another exclamation before noting her demeanor, her countenance in the dim light. you lick your lips in apprehension, vaguely reminiscent of salted butter. "i'm just saying...keep him on the hook for a little longer," her crochet reference is bad but you don't miss an opportunity to let a small smile show. it's gone the next second when she resumes with more to her thought, "really, take it slow. i doubt that he doesn't like you. i'm pretty sure he did back in middle school-"

"he told me he did, something about how i was his first love."

she's taking this a lot less seriously than you thought she would. it irks you to know why. your mother has her head propped on the palm of her hand, her weight on the arm of the couch, "then i'm pretty sure he's never had a second." your brows draw in, "why?"

"no matter how much i love you, y/n, i would never pay for your groceries, change your tires, haul your christmas tree, or wash your car after not seeing you for seven years. just think about it, seven years without contact is as good as being strangers." you watch as she pushes herself off the arm, off the chair, blanket falling aside. your mom takes your discarded bowl in her hands, her own crochet, and the tv remote before clicking the movie off. you watch her as she moves casually across the room and you hear her just before she flicks on the light.

"it's either that he likes you or that he's jesus, your pick."

it's a christmas rule, or at lease a rule that you and your friends go by, that if christmas day is for family, then christmas eve is for friends, hence why donghyuck had so cleverly gathered everyone in his basement on the very day, or night actually. he stops you with an arm just before you descend upon the staircase, "what'd you bring?" he motions towards the plastic bag clutched in your hands, the same one that'd bagged your groceries the other day (reduce, reuse, recycle!), but it instead carries, "pumpkin pie, i've come bearing pie," and hyuck removes his arm for you to pass before holding it up again for jeno, "and you, sir?"

"eggnog."

you turn back to see donghyuck give jeno the heartiest pat on the back, "now that sir, that's what i'm talking about." scrunching your nose in good-natured fun, you quip at that, "what's wrong with my pumpkin pie?" jeno's a step above you, hyuck on the step behind as he retorts, "nothing, it's just that jeno here remembered that we're very much legal." shrugging, you trod off down below, missing the way donghyuck holds jeno back for a second. firstly to ask, "brandy or bourbon?"

"whiskey, actually."

and secondly to ask, "so what are you waiting for?"

"huh?" jeno takes a step back up the stairs and away from the hustle and bustle of the basement where you might have lingered to hear what he thinks the conversation is steering towards. "or did you do it already?" he checks himself before jumping to conclusions, "what do you mean?"

hyuck's hand is impatient on his friend's shoulder, after all, it's been eight years and counting since he first discovered jeno's little secret, plus only a day since he rediscovered it. "did you ask her out yet?" jeno's about to disagree with him, partially out of habit, "i-" before he realizes it's for naught, "no, i haven't."

"do you perhaps, i don't know, have a time in mind?"

repositioning the gallon-sized jar in his hands, jeno's response rumbles deep and low for only him to hear, "yeah actually, i was thinking next-"

"next?!"

"what-"

"no next! you have to do it like- tonight!"

"what, why?"

hyuck isn't smirking but the look in his eyes is somewhat akin to it. "because…," it seems that he isn't up to letting his mischief spill for his answer is really quite lame, "because timing is imperative! remember what happened last time?" jeno doesn't let it get to him nearly as much as it should; his plan is foolproof and he's convinced that nothing of what haechan does should be able to catch your gaze tonight, or for the rest of nights. he leaves the boy at the stairs as he treads into the space, ready to take on step one. different plans await him as he draws nearer to the sectional, only to find that the one available seat next to you, at the far right of the couch, has been taken by jaemin.

awkwardly, jeno sets the eggnog on the table and takes the next best spot, the one next to the boy, squeezing beside renjun who gives him a glare and a scowl, "first time you see me in awhile and you decide you want to sit on me? really jen?"

jeno puts his whole heart into apologizing, "oh whoops, my bad," as he turns his body in your direction, and jaemin's, only to feel his stomach furl at how jaemin's body is also aligned with your own, effectively blocking him off. again, the awkwardness that's emitting from him is awfully discernable to renjun, watching the boy turn back around again and give him a sheepish smile, this time in actual contriteness. with step two out of reach and thwarted, he sets his sights on the eggnog. jeno's quite the simple man. his approach was simple. he was sure that simple would get him many places, unlike donghyuck's abundant and conflict-laden schemes.

his plans were simple in that, one: sit next to you, make sure that no one else sits next to you. two: talk to you, make sure that no one else talks to you. and three: ask you out, make sure that no one else asks you out. and that's how it should've gone! though it's certainly not how it's going.

jeno's left to pick up the pieces of your and jaemin's delightful conversation as the same boy reaches for the eggnog at the same time as him. retreating, he watches as jaemin fills a mug for you, then for himself. he listens as jaemin questions, "first time drinking?" pfft, even i know that.

"yeah, actually," it's because you're mom's strict. "my mom's strict."

"oh wow, so eggnog for a first must be kinda heavy, huh."

i wish that you would start with something lighter, just in case. "i know right, i wish that i could start out with something lighter, just in case. but i don't mind." i'll mind for you. if you can't finish it, i'll finish it for you.

"if you can't finish it, i'll finish for you."

with that, jeno's off to minding his own business because na jaemin is quite literally, stealing his spot, stealing his lines and it's evident that whatever he'd planned for tonight was simply, as simple as his plan, not happening. glare and scowl set into place, akin to renjun's earlier, he fills his own mug, only up to the halfway mark because his last glimmer of hope lies in when he walks you home later in the night. hell, he regrets just thinking that he should've just asked you out on the way here.

setting the mug down, he leans back in his limited space, arms behind his head and an elbow digging into renjun's space as well. the boy is about to comment on it when donghyuck finally returns from his room with the board game of choice this one christmas eve. "since y/n's here for the first time, i've decided to go with something mild," everyone, except you, is transported into the memory of last year when the now-snapped-in-half connect four contraption had bewitched them all into a death match (at least it wasn't raining and at least it wasn't on the rooftop), "so we're going with monopoly." jeno notes the smile that makes its way to your face.

renjun from beside him groans, "monopoly's boring though, ("-because you suck at it-") why can't we just play like-"

"i think it's a good idea," jeno announces rather suddenly, to which donghyuck rejoins, "and i asked neither of you for your opinions." he tugs off the top of the case and throws it back, "my house, my rules." although jeno wants to confront the urge to counter hyuck's sass, he doesn't because you look pleased at the game of choice, elated almost. but then there's jaemin beside you, commenting and remarking into your ear to further the little smiles you give and, change of plans, jeno decides that if he can't beat jaemin in winning your attention, he'll just have to beat him in winning monopoly.

the fake bills in his hands stack steadily as renjun, who'd been appointed banker, hands him, two hundreds, then another fifty. but with each increasing increment of jeno's money and competitiveness, jaemin's seems to dwindle as any inverse relationship would do as such. jeno seems to have forgotten that he, na jaemin, is the self-proclaimed 'least competitive person in the world' and how that held true in most any circumstance, including the case of girls or this case of boardgames. rather than narrowing his focus on winning, jaemin catered his role in the playing of the game to comedics. and while jeno dearly loves to hear you laugh, he finds it unfortunate that you find jaemin very funny.

he thinks he's had quite the night. the two rounds of monopoly, an hour each where he'd won both times but was also unrivaled both times, the movie marathon that followed suit (though is the word 'marathon' really warranted if only one and a third were watched?), and the grand finale, eight rounds of drinking games. certainly any singular event could have ignited a spur within him but after enduring all of them, paired with the fact that he was now mildly drunk, lee jeno is, to put it simply, not having it.

jeno undoubtedly has had a drink or two more than he should have because he sways a bit when he stands. he isn't sure but somewhere in the midst of seeing jaemin's hand rest casually on your thigh (missing the way you brush it off politely) and the way he seems to exclusively talk to you and you only (though your half-hearted responses are just out of earshot), jeno came to the conclusion that drinking copious amounts of eggnog seemed the best course of action. he also comes to duly note the looks that jaemin has been sending him, periodically. it's something along the lines of a smirk without the smile, a challenge set in his brow, and a glint of smugness in the eyes. drunk jeno is having exceeding difficulties in stripping down the implication of those regards, especially when his forefront train of concentration is currently being narrowed towards not tripping up the steps.

the jar of eggnog, now empty, is left behind on the table with the cumulation of also empty mugs and extra beer cans, soju bottles. your plastic bag and the aluminum container that held the pumpkin pie are long gone as well. you track your eyes down to each step of the stairs you take because if you look up, you'd be face to face with jeno's bottom. face to butt, really.

the night had ebbed, slowly but surely, into a mess. for whatever reason, you had minimal interactions with any of your friends except for jaemin, not that jaemin wasn't your friend, just that you had hopes of a christmas eve spent with the boy you talked the least to in the course of the night. the one whose bottom has just backed into your forehead. "jen…"

he pays no mind, perhaps doesn't even hear you at all because he proceeds to stumble around for a bit, taking another step down until you're forced to do the same, else your sanity be damned. both hands on the rails on either side, you suck in a breath. "jen, get your ass out of my face." and at that, the boy seems to get a grip on himself, tossing a dumbfounded, then staggered look back at you before straightening and taking the surest steps the rest of the way up to the utility room landing where donghyuck is seen to have been holding the back door open for the better part of three minutes. jaemin is there as well, lingering to see you guys off, you specifically, and jeno finds that same look being thrown at him, except this time he's slightly sobered up. the haze that had hitherto hindered him from thinking through his thoughts with clarity had cleared. he realizes what's off.

maybe it's the flashback, episodic memory style, to donghyuck's phone displaying jaemin's contact after intruding upon the little moment you'd been sharing with him, only a day ago at that. maybe it's that paired with hyuck's, "you have to do it like- tonight!" something that he'd brushed off but also made a lot more sense when put into consideration with the fact that jaemin's looks emanated of provocations, a dare of sorts. and that in itself speaks volumes of nonsense now that jeno's remembering that jaemin is the least competitive person in the world, not only to his own standards but to everyone else's. na jaemin, jeno's other best friend, wasn't deliberately trying to steal his (soon-to-be) girl. he was rather (rather infuriatingly) trying to rile up his dear friend into asking her out. bitterly, jeno notes that it's working; he's a great deal ticked off, even more so now that he's in the know, and his plans on asking you out have indeed been sped up to tonight.

so as jeno holds an unnecessary hand out to help you up the last few steps, a hand that you take with an apprehensive smile quick to form, he makes sure to give jaemin that same look he's been receiving all night. and while jaemin holds an elbow of yours to steady you as you slip on your shoes, jeno makes sure to take both sides of your open jacket and zip it closed, tugging the garment tight to your frame. he relishes in the feeling of your eyes on him, for the first time that night, as you bid your farewells to everyone else. jeno tries to hide a smile of his own as he says his goodbyes, eyes never leaving yours. he ushers you out of the house soon enough, the door clicking shut behind him and offering him the makings of possibly the confession of the century. he paces himself beside you.

hyuck's house is only four blocks down from your own, the only reason the two of you had agreed to walk there in the first place which was a seemingly good idea, if only you had considered the fact that by the end of the gathering it would be three forty in the morning, on christmas morning. the sky is dark, the moon itself offering little light in the presence of clouds, though the air is crisp as it is cold, nipping at the exposed skin of your face and hands. you shove those same hands into the pockets of your jacket as you shuffle along the side of jeno; just being by his side seems to provide a steady stream of warmth you're unwilling to stray too far from.

it's when the two of you cross the second intersection that jeno thinks to start up the little conversation that's been playing in his head for the last six or so hours. it's also then that an idea, though rather dumb, dawns upon you. your neighborhood circles around a fairly small lot, one with only a lawn of grass and a childrens' playground to earn it the title of being a park. a corner of your lips turns itself upwards as you grasp a hand on jeno's forearm, lightly steering him, "let's go sit on the swings for a bit, how's that?" and he complies, mind rerouting the scenarios of the conversation as the circumstances fluctuate.

the swings, a set of two, creak and groan as you kick up and back, the movement coursing the wind to whip cold across your cheeks. your hands clasp the equally frigid chains from which the seat you're on is sustained, the metal is sure to leave red streaks along the lines of your palms. jeno, who remains unmoving, merely looks on at you with a bemused and adoring gaze, his hands fisting and unfisting in his jacket pockets to retain their warmth in the case that you would be willing to hold them. a wide grin spreads across his features as he watches you dig your heels into the bark to stop, your giddy laughter quiet but perceptible to his eager ears.

with the last bit of momentum edging you on, you almost stumble off the seat. lunging forward with added force, your arms are thrown out on either side to maintain your offset balance. jeno startles at your actions as well, a hand of his own is flung out instinctively to steady you but the distance makes it so the closest he gets is your thrust out hand. he's holding your hand. and it jars him a bit because the sequence of planned events, the notecards by which he was dutifully following, are now jostled and out of order.

he's yet to let go of your hand and that's yet to leave your notice. you don't question it either but you look over just in time to see him gulp, his eyes on the ground before him. the second you revert your eyes, jeno speaks, "do you mind if i ask you something?" his hands are warm.

"go for it."

"i- i said yesterday that...that you're my first love." despite the weather, jeno can almost feel the sweat rush to his palms. he hopes it isn't noticeable and pushes on, "am i yours?"

jeno's banking on your answer to give a green or red light to follow through with all else, he'd phrased the question to deliver precisely just that. never more than now have the differences between 'were' and 'are' meant so much to him.

he turns to see a smile light your expression as you continue to stare into the ground and when he turns back, the fruits of his efforts are bestowed upon him. "yeah, you are my first love."

the green light has been given, jeno's palms are growing clammier by the second. he stands, hand still in yours, and pads over to where you're seated, the sound of wood chips crunching beneath his steps. jeno holds out his other hand and you take it. thumb rubbing over your knuckles, you find that jeno simply stands before you. the dark shrouds the two of you entirely but you make out enough of his features to see that he's smiling, blindingly, and it's in that moment where your mother's advice falls short because in all honesty, you have no willingness to 'take it slow.' you want him fast and you want him now.

"jeno, i like you."

his thumb on your knuckles stills. jeno isn't sure if he's falling or willingly lowering himself onto his knees because that's what's happening, though he's almost positive that he's come to a dead end on controlling his bodily functions. his mind, all those thought out scenarios of how this night could possibly pan out, every plan that's been enforced and redacted, it all short circuits because he's met with the one possibility that he thought unthinkable. you've confessed to him.

"you what?" jeno's looking up at you with what you believe to be wide eyes, they're beautiful to say the least. you give a squeeze to his hands. he almost jumps in response and in his sensitive state. with another five words, "i said i like you," and it feels as if you've decked him in the head with a chair, or ran him over with a truck, flew an airplane square into his chest. he squeezes your hands back, but harder and for longer as if to convey what he cannot possibly fathom into words in the moment. so he gives it two moments, maybe three or four, before he comes to grasp his bearings with a little more certainty.

but jeno can't bear to look you in the eyes. the thought of his sweaty, clammy hands in yours enough to render him an ungainly mess. with the bark digging sharply into his knees and beckoning for his attention, he doesn't think much as he drops his head into your lap. in fact, he doesn't think at all when he mumbles, "well, i love you," in such a casual manner, it's as if he were implying, 'hah, beat that.'

and you do. to add on to the shitload of emotions he's currently surfing atop of, you retract a hand from his hold and bring it to his head, fingers weaving in and out of his locks, back and forth on his scalp. the world of thirteen and twenty-one collide because when he looks up, you're the same, pretty, endearing middle school girl and the same enthralling, though stressed college student that he's been loving for so long—almost too long, for the length of time would have deemed incredulous and in vain had you not uttered in the second following, with your fingers laced into the curls at the foot of his head, "well, i've loved you for as long as i can remember."

jeno goes in for it.

his lips on yours, at first, are hot like fire on a cold winter night. they burn and they scald and they sear until the memory of how they meld in perfect unison with your own has seared itself into the forefront of your mind, riveted and ravaging your every thought. sequentially, the initial pang dulls in the trail it's blazed as your movements settle into the languid pace he's set, lips encasing your own repeatedly no matter how many times you part. on perhaps the seven or eighth time you've met your lips to his own, he stops, though his lips remain on yours, and he breathes, "if that's the case...," he suckles on your bottom lip but falls back before you can act on it. jeno brings a hand to the line of your jaw and traces his finger along it, tilting your head to his as they happen upon your chin. "if that's the case, then i guess i must've loved you since the beginning of time."

if christmas eve is for friends, then christmas day is for family.

and perhaps jeno can be filed under friends and family after all because when you awake on christmas morning, or rather afternoon, it's not to the knock on the door from your dad or the screeching of your mom but rather, to jeno's leg shifting atop your own.

"oops, didn't mean to wake you," is what you first hear and the sight of him, hair messy and without a shirt, is what you first see. the brightness of your room, evidence of how you'd forgotten to draw the curtains closed before going to sleep, is almost enough to get you to shut your eyes again but you don't because it's lee jeno who's in front of you, in bed with you, with his arms around you. you wonder how you even fell asleep the night before.

yawning as you speak, "how long have you been up?" he glances at your bedside table, "since nine," and you follow suit, only to see the time on your alarm clock spelling out a 1:04 PM. "shoot, did my alarm wake you?"

"it should've woken you too."

you let a chuckle out at that and he returns with a hearty laugh that reverberates through you. letting your head hit his chest, you mumble, eyes closing shut, "why didn't you just wake me up then?" jeno's glad that you're unable to see him in the position you're in because he's sure to be sporting a blush when he says, "because you're cute when you sleep."

"and so you just ogled at me for four hours?"

yet somehow, he's anything but embarrassed when he retorts, "oh believe me, i've been ogling at you for years." you look up at him once again to see that his eyes are already on you. jeno pulls you closer until your clothed chest hits his bare one. "why am i the one wearing this?" he eyes the bright green material of the shirt and shakes his head, "i thought i already told you that you look better in it."

"in this musty old green tee?"

"not just any musty old green tee. it's my most prized possession, means a whole lot to me."

a smile finds its way to your face, "then why do you wear it to sleep every night? wouldn't that like, i don't know, shorten its lifespan?" jeno only shakes his head a little more, "i wear it to sleep because i like going to sleep thinking about you, it makes me think about you."

"then do you dream about me?"

shameless as he never was before, he nods, "do you?" you shuffle your legs around with his a little more, "i don't even remember my dreams but i'm sure that if i did, they'd all be dreams of you." the smile on his face stretches wide, neither of you are sleepy anymore.

you move to get up but jeno holds you still. complying, you decide to further your interrogations, "does your mom know that you're here?"

"no, but she probably thinks i just stayed over at hyuck's or something," you hum along, figuring just about the same. "the real question is, does your mom know i'm here?" musing along, you can only imagine the look on her face when jeno trails behind you on the steps down to breakfast (overdue lunch), "no, but i'm sure she'd be more pleased than anything. she really adores you, you know."

"then she wouldn't mind it if i asked you out, no?"

good god, it's like the reciprocation of his feelings has made him out to be a whole different man. gone is the stutter-filled, wide-eyed thirteen year old boy who could not, for his life, lay out his love for the one girl he'd only ever had eyes for. in with this smooth little fucker that has you stuttering over your own words, "n-no, i don't think she would mind." and he seals the deal with a kiss, lingering his lips on your own and pulling your bodies flush.

jeno wishes that things never change, the shoulder stitch of his shirt falling far too low on your arms and far too high on his collarbones, the white paint of your car gleaming and his clothes doused with a hose or two, the eggnog drunk until words string incoherent and his ass is shoved unceremoniously into your face. jeno hopes to keep you by his side, to go grocery shopping with you instead of having to bump into you by chance, to throw out his trash and return to your house instead of his own, to feel the arm of your jacket brush against his as you walk side by side in the blackness of night, to be able to close the distance every single time because you were always seven inches too far; the prospect of you and him had been withheld for seven years too long and since the seventh grade too young. but now, with your forehead pressed to his, legs tangled in ways unimaginable, it seems that he has you all to himself for seven eternities on end, endlessly, forever, forevermore.

✧ end note — it’s ree here, and i hope you enjoyed my christmas gift to you hehe <33 as the new year comes into sight, i’d like to pass on to you some of that *good energy* and say that 1) i love you, very dearly. and 2) if you ever need anything, i’m right here for you, inbox always open. with sentiments as warm as ever, i am exceedingly glad to have been able to spend the latter third of this year with you guys. much more to come, rouiyan.

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effei-s · 3 years ago

Text

anderson and his paradox:

about the duality of a man.

(aka see me rambling in this 1500-words long essay about how much i love him)

the first half of his paradox: he’s more than capable of love. i would even dare to say that love is a driving force behind 99% of his actions.

let’s look at examples:

adam’s mom (aurora):

i’ve said it before, i’ll say it again: he worshiped the ground she walked on. it’s a fact. it’s what adam said about him in unravel me: i know he loved my mom. it was always her, everything was about her.

her death was probably the worst thing that happened to him, the loss that made him truly suffer, hence him constantly talking about how he wants to shield warner from it. that whole thing with lena is not about control itself, it’s about warner not making his own mistakes. there’s a genuine desire to protect there.

evie:

considering how little information is given about them it’s honestly amazing how much there lies between the lines (can mafi write everything the way she’s written them, please?).

they’re the perfect example of my favourite type of soulmates. he’s actually second worst person on this planet, because first place is already taken by her. there’s no one who knows him better then her (she knew about adam = she knew about aurora). there’s no one who understands him better than her (them being two vital parts of the RE from the very beginning). it doesn’t matter how much they fight, he trusts her with his life no questions asked: he comes to her before ignite me and asks her to make him immortal. considering evie’s words in defy me about how she was ready to kill him for trying to kill juliette in unravel me it was very risky of him (because if there’s one person that could slit open his throat and kill him for good, because he let his guard down, it would be evie). he trusts her to do her job and has no doubts about her capability to succeed. his first reaction to her death is ‘what? it can’t be real!’ because evie for him is almost untouchable entity ‘if they couldn’t hurt me, they sure as hell won’t be able to hurt her’. when he realizes that it’s true he’s terrified.

and anderson doesn’t do terrified.

/i really don’t know what can scream LOVE louder than this/

warner:

we can’t not talk about warner here.

warner betrays him and he still saves warner life. you need to remember that the only reason why warner is still alive in defy me, after he committed treason, is because anderson protects him.

by that time in restore me/defy me anderson, who technically lost his position as a supreme, still managed to save warner’s life /because he’s cool like that/.

“I had to call in a number of favors to have you transported here unharmed. The council was going to vote to have you executed for treason, and I was able to convince them otherwise.”

even evie doesn’t dare to fuck with warner because she knows anderson will come at them with the wrath of god.

“If Aaron were anyone else’s son,” she says, “I would’ve had him executed. I’d have him executed right now, if I could. Unfortunately, I alone do not have the authority.”

anyone else’s son.

so yeah the problem here is not that warner is one of the heirs of the RE. the problem here is that he’s anderson’s son.

plus his entire conflict with juliette is rooted in the fact that she

a) tried to hurt warner

unravel me:

I cannot allow him to protect a person who has attempted to kill him.

restore me:

The monster we’ve bred has tried to kill my own son.

b) tried to take warner from him.

restore me:

Worse, she’s become a distraction for Aaron. He’s become—in a toxic turn of events—impossibly drawn to her, with no apparent regard for his own safety. I have no idea what she’s done to his mind.

and then in imagine me he declines warner’s offer.

“You would be willing to sacrifice yourself—your youth and your health and your entire life—to let that damaged, deranged girl continue to walk the earth? Do you even understand what you’re saying? You have every opportunity—all the potential—and you’d be willing to throw it all away? In exchange for what?Do you even know the kind of life to which you’d be sentencing yourself ?”

/i dare you to tell me he didn’t love warner, i dare you/

juliette:

as a cherry on top, there’s juliette, of course.

when we’re talking about hate we’re talking about juliette, no questions asked. i truly believe that his hatred for her was stronger than his love for aurora and evie combined. and still what brings him down for good is not hate for her but adoration of her (oh irony, my irony).

after 12 years of hatred, after 12 years of her being ‘the bane of his existence’, he still ended up spending his dying breath to make sure she will be safe.

“I ordered you to remain silent,” he says, glancing back at her. “And I am now ordering you to remain safe, at all costs. Do you hear me, Juliette? Do y—”

“Kill them,” Anderson gasps, blood staining the edges of his lips. “Kill them all. Kill anyone who stands in your way.”

just like defy-me warner, imagine-me juliette survives ONLY because of anderson.

he even apologized to her at one point.

“You know, I realize now that I’ve been too hard on you. I’ve put you through too much. Tested your loyalty perhaps too much. But you and I have a long history, Juliette. And it’s not easy for me to forgive. I certainly don’t forget.”

anderson??? admitting??? that??? what??? he??? did??? was??? wrong???

and not because he needs to get off the hook, but because he actually feels like it was too much???

ALERT THE MASSES, THE WORLD NEEDS TO HEAR ABOUT IT!!!

btw, do my eyes deceive me, or did this ‘not easy to forgive’ mean that he actually already FORGAVE her for trying to kill him?

anyhow if that wasn’t enough look at this:

“What could possibly go wrong?” Anderson asks. “She’s more powerful than any of them, and completely obedient to me. To us. To the movement. You all know as well as I do that she’s proven her loyalty again and again. She’d be able to capture them in a matter of minutes.”

do you see it?

it’s the same thing that happened with evie: no one here is strong enough to hurt her (oh, i can see some PROJECTIONS here happening).

it’s funny how the way Anderson acts is EXACTLY what I expected from Warner. he isn't just talking about how she can do anything, when moment comes he ACTS.

Anderson is guarding Juliette. The same Anderson who’s spent so much of his energy trying to murder her—is now standing in front of her with his arms out, guarding her with his life.

i’d still prefer for her or him to kill ibrahim but even without it... he says you can burn this place to the ground, I don’t care as long as you’re safe, he chooses her over not only the RE, he chooses her over WARNER.

/and you expect me not to ship this??? sure, jen, i’m not gonna/

conclusion number 1: yes, my beautiful people, everything Anderson does in one way or another tied to love.

the second half of his paradox: love doesn’t make him a better person, it doesn’t even make him fully human. you’d think that if person capable of such strong feelings there’s supposed to be something worth saving, just like castle’s said:

“Of course he’s a regular person, son. That’s exactly the point. We’re all just regular people, when you strip us down. There’s nothing to be afraid of when you look at Anderson; he’s just as human as you or me. Just as terrified. And I’m sure if he could go back and do his life over again, he’d make very different decisions.”

(castle is a fucking idiot, never listen to people like him or you’re gonna end up neck-deep in shit)

but at the end of the day anderson remains a fucking monster.

his love for aurora doesn’t stop him from marrying another woman and having a child with her because it’s the easiest way to social climb.

his love and devotion to evie and re (mostly evie, because evie is the reestablishment) doesn’t stop him from playing games with juliette and putting everything and everyone at risk just because he’s bored.

i won’t even start commenting on warner’s situation, because otherwise we’re gonna sit here for days and i’ll end up with 100k words essay about them.

and even his enamourment with juliette doesn’t actually protect her from his violent nature. even this perfect, absolutely perfect juliette still has to prove herself (cut off her finger to show her loyalty). it still very easy for him to hurt her.

conclusion number 2: him being in love, him caring about someone, him trusting someone doesn’t change his fundamental nature. he still remains a destructive force put into a human body.

he’s a fucking satan.

and that’s exactly why i love him.

31 notes · View notes

arrivalatdawn · 4 years ago

Note

Could you write a smut regarding an extremely intimidating rosé

The sharpest thorn is one that doesn’t cut you, or so they say.

It might not happen right away, but there is a dark side to all good things. Such a thought does not occur to you one peaceful morning at home with your girlfriend, Kim Jisoo. Ever the one to have an unwavering bright, bubbly personality, she suggests a lazy beginning to the day. While you imagined being wrapped under the blankets and bedsheets with her on top of you as you exchanged sweet kisses, Jisoo had something else in mind.

“... and you wanted to go out today, wasting a perfectly good day off.” she said in a soft tone as she released your cock out of her warm and wet mouth. She stroked you slowly, thoroughly spreading her saliva all over your shaft. “We haven’t had a day to ourselves in months.”

She plants a kiss on the tip of your cock before sticking her tongue out and moving it in a clockwise direction. Her thin fingers remain wrapped around your base, feeling it pulse in her palm as she continues to move it up and down. While her voice had a cheerfulness to it, you especially loved its lower, huskier register during more intimate times. She did it first as a joke, but realized how much it aroused you after your first month of dating. From then on, Jisoo chose to speak in a deeper tone whenever you two were alone.

“I’m gonna make sure you can’t get out of bed tomorrow.”

Jisoo is currently on the floor of her bedroom as she gives you a stimulating pleasure. Your hands find their way to her dark colored locks, tucking loose strands behind her ears and away from her face as she continues using her mouth to satisfy you. Beautiful was an understatement to describe Jisoo - she was elegant, a graceful side to her that was usually overshadowed by her playful clumsiness. She was surprised when you confessed to her your feelings, believing you only hungout with her in order to get closer to her friend, Jennie Kim.

“Didn’t you already do that yesterday?” you teased.

Jisoo pouted, puffing her cheeks as you noticed a change in her eyes. The bright shininess to them remained, but were replaced with a cloudy lust. Her lips formed a sinful smile as she puckered them and kissed your tip once more.

“That was nothing compared to what I have in store for you.”

A needy moan escapes your lips as Jisoo takes your cock back inside her mouth. You looked down and saw your favorite sight - her silky smooth brunette hair bobbing up and down as you enter and exit her with ease thanks to her earlier lubrication. Both of your hands hold onto the sides of her head, guiding her movements while your fingers play run through strands of her hair. The both of you were very much enjoying the simple performance she was putting on.

You planned on going downstairs right away and surprising Jisoo with breakfast. It seemed she had the same thought, albeit a bit different kind of nourishment compared to the one you were going to prepare.

Jisoo has taken you inside her mouth a plethora of times - some even during inconspicuous circumstances. And while she perfected the basic techniques, which ones she emphasizes and doesn’t seems to change each time. Saliva is wet; a common knowledge statement. But Jisoo surprises you. Some days she’ll use a lot and want it to be as sloppy as possible. Others, she’ll use just enough in order to make sure both of you are satisfied. She’ll put on red lipstick before sucking your cock, knowing you enjoy being marked by her full lips all over your body and especially your shaft. The tight seal they form around your base as she takes your entire length inside her mouth. Her tongue - which can be fully flattened and add another layer of pleasure to your underside, or twirl around your tip and send shivers down your spine. Whatever method she used, Jisoo knew you loved it.

Both male and female friends knew you and Jisoo were inseperable, with many commenting about her beauty and how much more radiant she became after dating you. They would tease you, saying that wedding bells would be ringing any day now. The two of you brushed it off, knowing it will happen when the time is right. And as your wandering thoughts returned to your cock inside Jisoo’s mouth, you were mainly delighted to call her yours.

Jisoo removes her mouth from your shaft, watching in satisfaction as it glistens with her saliva as it dribbles down her cheek and your tip before falling onto the floor below. Her hand returns its grip onto your cock as she tilts her head and focuses her attention on your balls. You feel jolts of pleasure in your spine as she takes you into her mouth one at a time. She sucks on each, moving her tongue in a back and forth motion before letting it out with a loud pop.

The two of you remained relatively silent, with the exception of your moans and Jisoo sloppily sucking your cock. She hollows her cheeks as much as possible, turning her lips into a suction that feels sinfully delicious. She looks up at you with her large, glassy eyes - they provided a calming sense as she wrinkled her nose cutely and her eyes became crescents when she returned to orally pleasuring you.

Jisoo wastes no time with foreplay, as evidenced by the feeling of the tip of your cock hitting her throat. You feel her nose on the base of your shaft. She had been practicing deepthroating you the past several months; it seems to have paid off as your cock slowly goes in and out of her wanton mouth. Her freshly manicured nails dig into the skin of your thighs, a temporary pain compared to the pleasure you were currently receiving. Her eyes begin to glisten with tears as both of your hands hold onto her head and are guided by her own movements.

“Fuck…” you said, finally breaking the stalemate between you two.

“Isn’t this a better way to spend the day?” she said, smiling sweetly at you.

“No…”

“No…?” Jisoo breathed out, as your cock was inside her mouth. She gave you a soft warning bite, seemingly trying to say to choose your words carefully.

“No… because you’re not riding me.”

Jisoo giggles, her tongue sending a pleasant vibration on the underside of your shaft. Releasing you from her mouth, she gives your tip a deep kiss before rising up between your legs. You wrap your arms around her waist, planting a soft kiss on her forehead before the two of you climb onto the bed. She straddles your lap with her wide hips, winking at you playfully before grabbing your hard cock and placing its tip at her entrance. She stroked you, smacking your tip against her slightly drenched pussy. You loved how tight Jisoo was - her wet, velvety slick walls wrapping around your shaft as she fully lowered your body until you were inside her. Her erotically charged moan, coupled with her husky tone aroused you to no end.

“You wanted to deny a whole day of feeling this inside me to go on a date?” she said in a cute yet angry tone.

You savored the feeling of Jisoo’s body being impaled with your own as the morning light sneakily entered through the crack of the blinds. She was right, sharing an intimate moment with her was indeed always the right call.

They say no one drink tastes exactly alike.

No matter the ingredients being the exact same - the temperature in the air, the way the fruits are cut up, whether the drink is shaken or stirred, the number of or lack thereof of ice cubes, was the glass chilled or not, did the bartender use their hand or wrist when pouring out the mixed liquid, even the experience of the bartender. These are just some of the many things to take into consideration when ordering a drink.

It was supposed to be another relaxing evening at home.

When you got the phone call - and subsequent doorbell awakening to come out to the club with Jennie Kim, you turned her down immediately. Unfortunately, she never takes no for an answer. And so, here you are at one of the hottest nightclubs in town despite barely being open for a few months.

The bright, various colored lights. The bouncer who let scantily clad women in for free, some pulling down the top of their dress to do so. A haze of intoxicated people with more money than they know what to do with and a loud, ear-shattering bass are what greets you the moment you and Jennie enter.

She is immediately met with copious amounts of eyes staring at her - both men and women. Wearing the shortest, tightest dress she owned and letting her milk chocolate colored hair flow down her beautiful shoulders, Jennie Kim commanded attention from the busy club’s nighttime patrons. She puckered her lips, batting her freshly curled eyelashes and winking at those within her range of vision. The dark eyeliner and smoky eyeshadow complimented her cat-like gaze. Jennie knew she was a tease - loving to get a rouse out of people drooling for her. Making them even more jealous, she linked arms with you before blowing a kiss and walking away.

“Do we really have to be here? I was kinda sleeping, you know.” You said, handing Jennie an overpriced bottle of water before taking your jacket off and draping it over her thighs.

“Thank you, oppa.” She twists the plastic cap and takes a large swig of the bottle. Letting out a satisfied hum, she crossed her legs and stared at you. You were wearing a plain white tee and joggers - an outfit that was able to double as something to wear outside and as pajamas. A small frown was plastered on your face as you looked around at groups of people enjoying their youth, while destroying their livers in the process.

“Oppa, stop being a boring old grandpa. These are the prime years of our lives!” Jennie said.

“Jen, we’re almost in our late 20’s. This may have been cute four years ago, but I don't exactly want to be 35 and still doing this stuff.”

“So you think going to bed by 8 PM on a Friday night is normal for someone our age?”

“It certainly beats being here. I get to be comfortable at home and binge watch tv shows while eating whatever I want.”

“Has that been helping you get over Jisoo unnie?”

You immediately shot Jennie an icy cold glare. She was temporarily surprised, but managed to keep her composure.

“Don’t give me that look. I know it hasn’t been easy, but I don’t want you to waste your life away over her.”

Kim Jisoo. Someone who meant the whole world to you. The very same person who took it all away instantly, doing so by leaving a card on her side of your bed one morning.

Oppa,

I’m sorry.

By the time you read this, I would have already been gone. You have every right to hate me. But… this dream. It's something I can't give up. I won't know unless I take this risk.

I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.

Thank you, oppa. For all of the love you've given me these past four years.

Love, Jisoo

Rain was not the only thing pouring outside your window as you reread her message over and over.

“It's been a year, oppa. It's time to move on. She has.”

“People go at their own pace, Jen.”

“I know that. But I can't stand seeing you devolve into a homebody who cries watching chick flicks and eating ice cream out of the container.”

“You were the one who brought it over!”

“Anyways! We are here to find you a new bang.” Jennie confidently said, wrapping her arm around you. “So what are you feeling, my boy? Blonde? Brunette? Nice rack? Fat ass? Baby making hips?”

“Everyday you stray further from the light.” You said, shaking your head as you covered your face. “Remind me again how are we best friends?”

“If we aren't best friends, then I'm not a girl who measures a guy’s hotness by guessing their dick size.”

“Have you ever guessed correctly?”

“Many times. Although this one guy ended up packing more than I thought he would.”

“There are countless hot women here. It's a club. How exactly do you propose I find someone? You know I can't really talk to women well. Especially after the last one.”

“Ah, yes. Who could forget the classic: ‘H-Hi. You. Me. S-Sex.’ Real smooth, Casanova.”

“This is your idea of a pep talk? Some wingman you are.”

“That's because I'm a wingwoman. Now…” Jennie said as she winked, pointing her finger as she moved the two of you across the copious amount of people in the club. “What poor soul gets the unfortunate chance to be your pity bang.”

“Hey! I'm going home if you're gonna be like this.” You said, standing up and preparing to leave.

“Fine, fine!” Jennie said, holding onto your shoulders and pushing you back down on the couch. “You're no fun, oppa.”

You ignored her, crossing your arms as you put on the meanest sulk you could muster.

“You're so cute when you're angry.” She said, pinching your cheek as you snorted a puff of air.

“Why don't you talk to her?” Jennie continued, pointing to a lone woman sitting at the bar.

The woman was far away, but her sitting posture gave off an intimidating vibe. Her long, brunette hair flowed almost past her seat. The two of you watched as she fended off various men trying to get her attention. You looked to Jennie and sighed.

“Her? She just rejected like seven guys. Some of them were pretty handsome too.” you said.

“Yeah, that’s… weird. I wonder why she rejected both seven and nine incher.” Jennie said, frowning as she formed a check sign under her chin with her thumb and index finger. “Although she did a good job at shooing away those last two. They were easily four inches.”

“Would you stop incorrectly guessing penis size and focus! How am I supposed to talk to her?”

“Relax, oppa. It’s all about confidence. Put your foot down and show her you’re not willing to take no for an answer.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.” Jennie nodded.

“Really? Because the last time I did that, I was met with a drink in the face and various women nearby staring at me like I was a pervert.”

“Yeah, I remember that. Almost peed myself from laughing so hard.”

“I’m glad my love life amuses you. Some best friend you are.” you said, rolling your eyes.

“You can do this, oppa!” Jennie said, startling you by suddenly standing up. “Now go over there and get some fresh booty! … and maybe get me a drink while you’re at it.” The sudden change in tone by her last sentence caused you to raise an eyebrow and shake your head.

Jennie smacks your butt, squeezing a cheek firmly before pushing you away. Brushing the nonexistent dirt off your body, you timidly approached the counter. The bartender is putting on a show, holding multiple bottles at once as he pours various colored liquids into the stainless steel jigger.

The woman Jennie graciously scouted out for you looked elegant. She wore a bright red cocktail dress that showed off her long legs and soft looking thighs. Her pinky was extended as she elegantly sipped on a green colored martini. Her side profile looked like something from the front page spread of a magazine cover. You ended up staring at her a bit too long - something she noticed right away.

“It’s not polite to stare at a woman, you know.” she stated.

Her cold tone and exotic accent sent shivers down your spine. She looked like she belonged to the wealthy elite, while you were just an average person out of their element. The loud music and various patrons clinking their glasses to a celebratory night out were nothing compared to the beauty before you.

“If you’re here to buy me a drink, don’t. Seven guys have already tried. I’m not interested.” she said, taking another sip of her mixed drink.

“I-I’m not.” you said, stammering. You mentally slapped yourself, knowing this conversation was going to go down the same path as every other one you had with a woman.

“Really?” she asked, finally turning her direction at you. Her dark, jet black hair matched the same color of her eyeshadow. It flowed beautifully, not a single one out of place. She equipped herself with light facial makeup, only the slightest hint of BB cream and powder. Her thin, cherry red colored lips giving off the tiniest hint of a smirk.

“Your hot friend over there seems to think I’d be the perfect booty call for you.”

You tensed up. She had you read out and it hadn’t even been a full five minutes. A bead of sweat trailed down your face as you pulled on the collar of your shirt. You began to prepare yourself for the rejection that was beginning to loom.

“She doesn’t seem to be able to talk softly. Probably a screamer in bed, too.”

“J-Jennie’s just a -”

“So tell me, handsome. What was her master plan? To get you to hit on me under the disguise of getting her a drink? And just like that I’m supposed to drop my panties for you?”

Every word the woman said to you was as ice cold as the ice the bartender was mixing drinks with. Despite this, her erotic accent keeps you wanting to hear more from her. It filled you with untapped courage. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, your expression changed as you slowly approached her.

“She wanted me to get over this girl I was in love with. Said you’d be the perfect rebound bang.” you said, taking the drink out of her hand and twisting the glass before sipping. It tasted sweet. Strawberry, with the unmistakable taste of vodka. The drink matched its owner - strong, yet having a playful side to it.

“I always ask for three shots instead of one.” she simply stated as she noticed your face grimacing, unfazed by your actions.

“Good to know.” you said, returning the drink in front of her.

“And what makes this slutty friend of yours think I’m easy?”

“Her legs are never closed. Figured she’d be a good judge of character.” you said. The alcohol seemed to be working, as you began to grow confident and matched the way she was speaking to you.

She smirked. “These losers wouldn’t even be worth me slapping them in the face. Do you really think you have what it takes to take me home?”

You took her hand and got her out of the chair. Running your fingers through her soft, silky hair, you gently tucked several loose strands behind her ear before holding her by the waist.

“There’s nothing better than wanting what you can’t have.” you whispered into her ear gently, your hand roaming down her dress. You blew a soft puff of air, your palm feeling the curvature of her bottom as you squeezed it. The faintest moan escaped her lips as she quickly tried to maintain her composure.

“Drunk already after one sip?” She said. Your gaze remained locked with each other. Her eyes were beady, yet pools of pure seduction. A light tint of red was evident on her cheeks, she clearly had more than one martini. As you processed what she just said, you realized she was right. You were drunk. But it was not from the one sip of alcohol you had from her. No, this was different. You were intoxicated by the beautiful woman you just met. And as your hand still rested on her bottom, it seemed she was also interested in you.

“What do you say?” you asked, bringing your other hand to her face. As you rubbed her cheek gently, you traced the back of your finger on it. “Your bedsheets sound a lot more fun than anything else going on here.”

The woman takes a sip of her martini, moving the bottom of the glass around on the table to swirl the mixed drink. She seemed to be deep in thought, pondering your words carefully.

“Sure, why not. Beats getting hit on by any of these losers.” she said nonchalantly.

You smirked, squeezing her cheek once more.

“You won’t regret it.”

As she grabbed her designer bag and walked away from the bar, you looked at Jennie who was in bewilderment at what she just witnessed. You flashed her a peace sign before using your thumb and pinky and bring it to your ear, silently letting her know you’ll call afterwards and tell her everything. She smiles in response, showing you her own peace sign as you exit the club.

The taxi ride to your place came and went like the calm before a storm. It didn’t take long for the two of you to remove your shoes. Your hands find their way back to her waist, gently holding her in your arms. As the two of you exchanged lust-filled stares, you lower your head and are mere inches away from her face before she turns her head and steers clear of you.

“I’m not that easy…” she said.

“Didn’t take you to be it at all.” you replied. The intoxicating aroma of her perfume combined with the built up desire you had for this woman caused you to want her more.

She removes both straps of her dress, watching you slightly drool as they flow down her soft looking shoulders and fall onto the ground. You take notice of her lack of undergarments, revealing a painfully tight body before you. She was fairly petite, yet had a decent curvature to her. You preferred a woman with wider hips and thighs, but this woman’s model-like body and cute round butt were beginning to make you a believer.

She helps you remove your shirt, before yanking off your pants and boxer briefs simultaneously. She is greeted with your cock already erect. Her fingers are cold to the touch, a nice juxtaposition to your shaft that was warm. She bit her lower lip and looked at you.

“Not bad… I’ve had better, though.” she said calmly.

“And yet you seem to be enjoying mine…” you replied, tracing her outer lips with two of your fingers. You took notice of a colorless liquid beginning to leak out, rubbing it between your thumb and index finger. “It would look even better inside your mouth.”

She squeezes your cock tightly. “No, you are going to look better eating my pussy.”

The woman pushes you onto your bed before raising her hips and locking her thighs onto either side of your head. Her pussy was delightfully wonderful. Bright pink, glistening lips and containing a nostalgic aroma to it. Your hands found their way to her bottom, which seemed to be their designated resting place over the course of the evening. The moment her hips lowered onto your face, you were greeted with the flesh between her legs.

“Oh, fuck…” she said, releasing a long, satisfied moan. You began by kissing the inner apex of her thighs, each crease soft to the touch. It doesn’t take long before you are giving her pussy long, slow licks. Her body squirms above you as quickly captured her clit and swirled your tongue around it. Despite her cold demeanor, it seemed like she really needed this - her juices flow out abundantly as you slowly eat her out.

“Fuck! Right there… Oh, fuck…” she moaned, throwing her head back as she held onto the headboard of your bed. She grinds on your face, her pussy pressing against your mouth as she seeks more and more pleasure desperately. You are happy she is satisfied, consuming the bittersweet juices that pour into your mouth.

She tries to turn her body around but you held her hips waist firmly in place. You aren’t able to see, but you were sure her eyes began to flutter in pleasure as she relishes the feeling of your tongue on her clit. Her butt is soft to the touch, even more so now without her pesky silk dress covering it.

“K-Keep eating that pussy… oh fuck…!”

She was unable to announce her abrupt orgasm. The only signal you were able to receive was her body quivering slightly before violently shaking as its force takes her by surprise. Her pussy releases a copious amount of fresh juices into your willing mouth. You stick your tongue out, having grown accustomed to her delicious taste. Her moans continue on as you feel her juices slowly drip down your mouth and chin. Your tongue twirls around her clit as her orgasm slowly winds down. Giving her wet pussy a few final licks, your head being released from the grip of her thighs.

Before you could even get the chance to speak, she dismounts your face before quickly mounting your crotch. She gives your cock several painfully slow strokes before lining your tip at her entrance. You can’t help but feel nostalgic, thinking of how Jisoo would do the very same thing to you. And while Jisoo loved to tease you, running the tip of your cock between her lips, this woman was different. She quickly lowers her hips until you are fully inside her.

Jisoo was the tightest woman you’ve ever been with - or so you thought. Before you was a new challenger, someone who could compete for the throne, should there ever be one for how tight a pussy could feel. Both of you let out a satisfied moan as you enter her for the very first time. Her juices coated your cock instantly, while her walls seemed like they would refuse to let you go.

“Fuck…” she said, letting out a mixture of a scream and a laugh. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

The woman’s tight body felt wonderful, something nothing else could come close to replicating. She places her hands on top of yours, bringing them upwards and resting them on her petite chest. She was far from busty, but was big enough to fit in the palm of your hand, something you were thankful for.

You fondled them, massaging her chest before bringing her hardening nipples in between your index finger and thumb. She plants her hands firmly on your own chest until she raises her hips and starts to ride you.

“Fuck!” she screamed, her pussy grabbing onto your cock tightly as she began to take you in and out of her wanton body.

Her hips, thighs and waist were all working in tandem to extract the most pleasure out of you for her own satisfaction. She was tight - something that you repeated to yourself over and over like a broken record. The feeling of it was overwhelming, as you sat on the bed unable to move from the pleasure she was giving you.

“Oh fuck…” you said, the burning desire for the woman on top of you evident through your words.

“You like my pussy, don’t you?” she said, knowing full well what your answer would be. “I bet it’s the tightest you’ve ever had.”

“Fuck yes…” you moaned.

Your words seemed to please her as she grinds her hips against yours. Her hot, wet flesh has quickly made you wish to never leave its comfort as you feel her tight butt smack your thighs. She makes sure to raise her hips until only your tip is inside her before slamming back down onto you.

A few hours ago you two were mere strangers yet here she was, using you for her own pleasure. She puts on a show while riding you, her erotic moans and vulgar words dripping with pure lust create a harmonious symphony for your ears as does her best to chase her euphoric high.

“Fuck… I’m gonna cum again. I’m going to cum on your cock. Fuck. Yes… yes! Oh, fuck!”

Her second orgasm of the night was no less violent than the first. She arches her back as her body squirms on top of yours. Her toes curled up in pleasure as you felt her nails dig into your chest. Her pussy tightened around your cock, almost painfully so. You felt it pulsing in delayed intervals as she buried your shaft deep inside her. Both of you savored the feeling of her orgasm. It takes her slightly longer to recover compared to her first orgasm. Her body is quivering slightly with aftershocks as you move her hips up and down your own.

“N-No… stop, I’m still sensitive.” she said, holding on your chest for support.

Her pussy clenches against your cock, seemingly wanting more. Your eyes involuntarily shut as you savor the pleasure of her tight walls gripping your length. You noticed she was exhausted, as a thin layer of sweat glistened on her milky skin. Her body on the other hand, had other plans. She began to slowly grind against you, preparing herself to ride you once more. She moves her hips in a circular motion, wanting to feel every inch of you inside her.

“You haven’t cum yet…” she said. “Is my pussy not good enough for you?”

“N-No… yours is the tightest I’ve ever had.”

“Then why haven’t you cum yet?” her voice increased in frustration.

She dismounted your lap, getting on her hands and knees in front of you.

“Come here and fuck me like you mean it.”

Little effort is required on your part to enter her pussy once more. She wags her butt cutely, teasing you. Both of you moaned as her walls hugged you tightly. You leave your tip inside her before thrusting back inside.

Her body mirrored your bed and rocked back and forth in pleasure. Each entry into her tight pussy felt different, providing you an insatiable lust. You felt her round ass cheeks bounce against your crotch with each thrust.

Her soft gasps and moans rapidly increased in volume as her tight, hot body was an outlet for your desires.

“Fuck… fuck me harder.” she gasped.

You weren’t able to reply, too clouded by the pleasure to focus on anything else but her body and your need to fill her. Both of you relish in the moment as you fuck her and give her what she wanted. You reach for her damp hair and hold it in your hands, raising her body and pulling her head back. She moaned as your thrusts increase in speed until the bed is violently creaking from how hard you were fucking her.

“Fuck… fuck! I’m-”

Despite her exhaustion, her pussy clenches around your cock tightly as she cums for the third time of the night. Moans and gasps filled your room as her mouth is agape from the pleasure. She regretfully removes you from her body before she gets you to stand up on wobbly knees.

She strokes you furiously, the heat caused by the friction of her hand against your cock provided a tingling sensation. She had little care for how fast she was going, using her free hand to massage your balls in anticipation of what was about to come.

“Cum all over my face.”

She picked up the pace and stroked you even faster until you moaned loudly and erupted all over her face. She smiled wickedly as her eyes instinctively shut as you coated her soft features with thick, hot ropes of semen. The first shot hit her forehead and hair while your toes curled from the pleasure. Your next release hit her cute nose and ridiculously soft looking cheeks. The pressure she had built up inside you was finally alleviated. She continued to massage your balls until she felt you had nothing left.

Her smile was a wonderful juxtaposition to the mess you just created on her face. She stuck her tongue out and cleaned your cock, removing the last few remnants of your load that dribbled from your tip.

“Fuck, you taste good.”

#asks #blackpink smut #blackpink #rose #park chaeyoung

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moontheoretist · 2 years ago

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Third look at She-Hulk:

- Again, the episode is shorter than other Marvel shows so far.

- I like the whole "she was hated online by men" angle, because this is literally what is happening now, so it is kinda funny that the show is representing what is happening in real life as we speak, and that scene sparked even more hostile dudebro comments like this. And the true kicker of that scene is that those comments ARE REAL. Those are things that real, living, breathing men in real life wrote online about female superheroes. There are a few projects led by women, that in comparison to how many movies there were with male leads before, and men throw a fit and act as if universe was erasing them when 20% of the shows is with female leads, while 80% is still with white male leads. Like seriously, it's like someone having 99% of the cake, while you are having that 1% and them complaining you got anything at all, or that you are "stealing the cake" if someone tries to give you a slice bigger than 1%.

- "I don't have problem with female heroes, just make your own". Same argument was said about queer heroes and POC heroes or any character in any universe tbh, and our response is always the same "We make our heroes, but you ignore their existence and make them all flop and then weaponize that flop to say that "this is a proof why we should not get any". The legacy of a hero being given to a character that is not a white man is not changing the character, it is a continuation of the big legacy trusted upon the new generation, nobody would have a problem with it if all new generation was full of whitey boys. Changing Iceman's sexuality is not taking away, either, because men like him EXIST in real life. Men who thought they were straight all their lives only to discover they were the fuck not and were just so deep in the closed that they didn't realize it, but still acted out to affirm their straightness out of subconsciously perceived difference they knew existed in them all along. We have Black Panther, Storm, and a few other minority heroes that are original, and they don't get as much love as they should, because of fucking racism or queerphobia or any other bigoted bullshit originating from the concept of otherness. I literally saw comments when Black Panther movie came out in my own fucking country that "they are now making movies about monkeys"... we cannot make our own things, because you take it away from us, you review bomb it, you do not pay attention to it, you don't love it, and you make it all get erased, forgotten, cancelled and NOT because it was worse made than yours. The reason is that you just treat those stories as lesser because of WHO they are about. So shut up y’all.

- Ugh, Dennis is a fucking exoticism fetishist. He hated on Jen, because they worked together, but the moment he sees a hot BLACK woman he goes fully "what a nice lady that is" as if it didn't have all the wrong connotations. She is beautiful, doesn't mean you have a chance, Dennis. Hell, I would flip the table and dance on the windowsill if Mallory dated Jen instead. That would be neat.

- Shape-shifter Light Elf from New Asgard? Where is this lady? Can I meet her? Who is Megan Thee Stallion? *googles* Oh, OH! What a wonderful celebrity lady. Also black. WTF Dennis, we see your type you piece of shit. Also, the audacity to think that a woman like this would ever look at him in any other way than neutrality or disgust is astounding. MEN LOL. And Jen laughing at him is relatable. I wanted to laugh in his face too, like seriously. This is hilarious.

- Wong became irresponsible. Maybe it is not that Stephen was like this? Maybe it is just the thing that comes with the job of being the Sorcerer Supreme? It certainly starts to look like it. Throwing Blonsky into Mirror or Shadow Dimensions... really, Wong? xD

- That elven lady? Priceless. The scene in which it is shown that Pug would never harass women in the workplace, because only impostor would say he did like it, not cool. Anybody can be the harasser and a weak ass excuse like "you know me" doesn't cover it, but the image of an elven old granny really solidifies the idea that "oh, no nice man could do it". They can. They would. You cannot really judge basing on looks or personality at all. Even ill-mannered people like Bruce Banner could turn to be harassers in real life, because it is not based on someone's goodness, image or any trait of them as people. It is based on how they view the world, and how they view themselves in that world (above), and where they view women in it (below).

- Lol, she was not rejected by the Avengers. Who makes up those rumors? Some absolute asshole, that’s for sure.

- Oh, yeah. I assumed soulmates was a genderless term, but in MCU it means "he has seven women waiting for him and billing his vacation after the jailtime". Why, I am not surprised that Emil Blonsky would somehow manage to seduce / lead astray 7 fine ladies?

- I seriously laughed so hard when the judge told Runa - the elven lady that "Thor's motivational speeches are not admissible in court" xD Even music cut abruptly, as if loosing all wind in the sails xD She has very chaotic Loki energy and holly shit I needed this in my life!

- Real life She-Hulk scene in a nutshell: Judge: You know Mr. Wong that you have committed a crime? Wong: I must go. Bye.

- Anonymous lawyer? Really Jen? I bet it would not end like this even without you being a Hulk. There are too many cases to just not land any superhero case in a normal office.

- Oh no. No "taking away powers" idea. JEN, YOU WERE BETTER IN THE CARTOON! EMBRACE YOUR HULKNESS! DON’T DO THIS!

- OMG, because she is a woman, Newscaster is only interested in her name and her diet. I thought they will be asking about the case she was leading? But, well, what did I expect from men? This is a great scene. Shows how women are treated in media even when invited.

- "Did you guys rob Asgardian construction worker?" PRICELESS. COMPLETELY DESTROYED THE WRECKING CREW, OMG XDDDDD Also, they wanted her blood? Who is the boss? Cliffhanger!

- That postcredit scene... I dunno what to think about twerking She-Hulk. I am too stunned to think anything. She is the fun lawyer, but also why twerking? They could be rapping instead!

#she-hulk #she-hulk episode 3 #she-hulk episode 3 spoilers #jennifer walters

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oz-the-sorcerer · 3 years ago

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Create For Thra Day 6: "There are many paths laid before us, some good, most bad."

@createforthra

Here's a thing I have written months ago, which happens to be a perfect fit for today's topic!

Excuse my writing skills and enjoy!... Or cry.

🌟

Open Your Eyes

🌟

Kira tried to wipe away some of the blush from her freckled cheeks. She loved her reflection on the dressing mirror, but she thought her mom could do her make up a little bit less.

She heard her mom laugh.

"And here I was wondering how long would it take you to remove some of it."

"But it feels heavy, you know I like how I look."

"Yes honey, but this is a special occasion... Spare me this once?"

Kira rolled her eyes playfully as Brea braided her silver hair with beads. Kira's hair fell from her shoulders, she especially wanted side braids like her gorgeous mother, but had thin side braids instead of thick ones. She made them herself, then Brea offered help attaching the beads. Brea made two braids, connecting into one thick braid at the center.

"Looking good as ever." Came a silent voice. Kira turned to her aunt, whose body, spider body, was sitting on top of the counter. She couldn't help but blush, looking down.

"Don't move your head, sweetheart." Brea said, posing her head straight again.

"Sorry. I am just... Excited." She was terrifyingly aware of her heartbeat, tried to take a deep breath.

"I can sense your fear." Tavra walked with her thin legs and stopped between Kira and the mirror. "You have nothing to be afraid of."

"I can't help it." Kira explained. " I wish I could know what the future holds for me, like Mother Aughra. Maybe then I wouldn't be this vulnerable."

"You are not vulnerable." She felt her mother tug on her finished braid as a warning. She didn't like it when Kira dragged herself down this way. "Do you think I didn't feel afraid? I thought I was going to faint."

"Ah yes, glad that you only puked and didn't faint."

"Tavra!"

Kira started to laugh. Well, this story was new.

"You puked?! Why didn't you tell me?!"

"I didn't want my daughter to know this ridiculous fact, thank you very much."

"She was so excited, so she ate whatever she could find from the kitchen and made herself sick." Tavra spoke mischievously.

"I had to keep myself busy!" Brea argued with her big sister. Kira loved their bickering. They were almost never serious with it, that's why Kira even started some of them on purpose.

While they were stating opinions on how to cope with these kinds of excitement, Kira looked at the mirror once more, and decided her fear was a good thing. She would always have her loved ones by her side, possibly talking nonsense like this and she realized, there was nothing to be afraid of. Her future, their future was filled with hope and laughter, she just knew it.

Another deep breath. And a big smile.

"Alright, all done here." Her mother said. For final touch, Tavra brought her golden coronet, which Brea placed on Kira's brow.

A knock on the door which made Kira's heart flip. Only Onica's wild red hair could be seen since she opened the door ajar while talking with someone outside the dressing room. Tavra's tiny body bounced with joy. When Onica came in, they also saw Tae outside, waving at them.

"We are all set. You can come out whenever you want." said the Far-Dreamer.

"Thra's Mighty Hooyim King, you look amazing, Kira!" Tae cheered.

Kira thanked her while she got up from her chair. Her white gown with gold and silver rands fell smoothly behind her. Embroidered with both Vapra and Spriton symbols, she was very proud of this dress she made herself.

One last glance at her reflection, one last deep breathe.

Brea reached to fix her bangs while Onica put out her hand for Tavra to climb on. Tavra wished her a good luck with: "Go get him!" while moving her legs exaggeratively, causing a big laughter in the room.

Then they got out, it was only her and her mother now. Brea's eyes were shining, her little fizzgig was now all grown up, taking another big step in her life.

"Mother, I will be okay."

"I know, baby."

"So, don't cry."

Brea abruptly wiped her tears on her long sleeve, trying not to smear her make up. Then she held Kira's hand and squuezed. Supposedly, they promised each other just this morning as a family that they weren't going to cry.

But all those hardships back in the trines, almost getting killed by a Garthim several times... Brea still couldn't believe it was all over. Skeksis no more.

Another knock on the door, and this time both of their eyes sparkled, as the legendary songteller stepped in to the dressing room with a blinding smile.

Kylan stopped in his tracks and stared at his daughter in awe. Kira laughed and went to hug him.

"Please don't start crying like mother did just now."

Kylan chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her and spinned once. Then he sent a playful smirk on Brea's way and said: "It seems you lost our bet, love."

Brea pretended to be angry with a pout, but when she glanced at her little family, she smiled until her cheeks hurt.

"I want a hug too!" she said as she took big steps towards her husband. Kylan opened one arm for her and immidiately in she was. Kira leaned on her father's shoulder, which always felt like home. After some minutes, Brea sniffled once more, and Kira reached and hugged her as well. This is nice, she thought. It had been a while since they could be like this because of the fussy preparations.

When they let go, Kylan placed both hands on her cheeks and kissed her forehead. Kira could see his eyes becoming misty with emotion as well. She smiled widely with the same eyes she has as her father.

Brea took his arm and started to lead him toward the door.

"Aww, I don't want to give her to Jen yet!"

Brea raised a laugh. "You are not giving her to anyone, honey. Let's give her a moment and take our places at the balcony."

Then she flashed Kira a proud look, and they were gone.

Kira felt aware of her heart again. She couldn't stop this fuzzy feeling inside her stomach and bounced around happily. Calm yourself before you sweat inside the dress, she thought to herself. She let go of the fists she made without noticing, and reached for the door.

Citadel's hallways were empty. As she passed each one, she heard the Gelf folk outside, crowded and excited, just like her. The noise grew louder and louder, then she made a left turn, reaching the last corridor before the Citadel's balcony.

She already could see her parents, on the left side. Brea was already looking at her direction and when she saw Kira coming, she gently elbowed Kylan's arm, causing him to look at her too. And the smile he gave her was everything. Before she teared up, she took a right glance, and saw Rian and Deet, also waiting for her to arrive.

With all the rustling her parents caused, Jen turned around where he was standing at the center and their eyes met.

The flutter inside her chest made her think that she was really about to let go of the lunch she had at noon.

Even if he tried to, Jen couldn't stop looking at her until she was at his side. He awkwardly reached his hand out for her. She took it eagerly.

They both stood straight before her Aunt Seladon, who was going to perform their marriage ceremony. She smiled down at them lovingly, which, Kira didn't experience often much before.

Kira glanced down at all the Gelfling who attended their wedding. Besides the whole citizens of Ha'rar, she could see many faces from every clan. Well, if there is any left, at this point.

Her Uncle Gurjin and Auntie Naia were cheering loudly, as well as her Uncle Amri. As her closest family friends, they had every right to scream.

She couldn't even begin to count everyone she knew when her eyes locked with a figure, at the very back of the crowd. Her eyes widened as the old creature's crane's shard shined with light.

"Mother Aughra..." she let out before she could manage. Jen smiled knowingly.

"I also thought she wouldn't be here today."

Kira, not being sure if Aughra could see it, bowed her head slowly at her direction. Jen followed right after her, thanking Mother Thra for everything she's done for the Gelfling.

When they finally started the ceremony, Aughra snickered loudly.

"These kids..." she said to herself. She ignored the looks of some Gelfling who heard her loud and sudden snicker, and glanced at the endless sky.

"You spoil these children, old friend." She talked to Thra, jokingly mentioning the great weather today. Her tired eyes scanned her every children, happy and bonded with the song of Thra.

They deserved this, she thought.

Their future is brighter than the stars above, she thought.

Then she closed her eyes, listening to her children's voices.

She didn't want to open them. She truly didn't. However, she had no other choice. She counted every star she visited while she was sleeping, just to kill time. But, they also came to an end.

When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was a Gelfling. Laying and unmoving, already returned to Thra. After every slow step she took, she saw another. And another.

She recognized one, two, three... Maybe all. Or maybe she didn't. She didn't know.

She wondered, why Thra showed her this vision now. Which didn't mean anything. She huffed, then coughed, trying to silence her pain.

She knew where she was. In which reality, in which possible future she was in. She had this reality as a vision trines ago, and there they were. Her children, poor children...

And she knew what she was supposed to do. Her feet took her to the right direction as if moving without her consent. But that was she. That was Thra. Already decided fate. Too late to return.

One tear dropped from her eye to the bloody soil as she stood beside the corpse of a certain songteller, his eyes are half open as he clutched into his magical firca, like a last hope.

She leaned down and grabbed it. With delicate care, she fully closed his eyes, careful of her crooked nail.

Without looking back, she made her way toward the already decided route again. She wished all of her children, for them to return to Thra safely, as that was all she could do.

Grunting while she walked, scolding Thra for showing her a vision this heartbreaking, for making her cry, off to the UrRu valley she went. With the firca around her neck.

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work-of-waking-up · 4 years ago

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In Defense of the Psychopath

Alright, wanna venture into my crazy ass brain? I’m going to start by saying one thing that will set the tone for everything else that follows: Villanelle is not a psychopath in the way that we currently understand them. Why am I even bothering to write about a fictional character, you ask? Because representation is important. Media portrayal of various mental and behavioral health topics (including ones that people might not think need to be discussed) is important and this show has a big audience. I also just want to contribute to the conversations that are taking place because I am seeing A LOT of them and the reason for that I believe boils down to the fact that Jodie makes Villanelle so relatable and people want to know what that means and looks like for them. Even those who felt they could relate to Sandra’s Eve, or the relationship between the two, maybe questioned what that meant the further they went down the path with them. “It’s probably a bad thing I relate to a psychopath, right? But she can’t be a psychopath because she cries and she feels things! Psychopaths don’t cry, which means she isn’t realistic so therefore it’s okay that I relate to her! Right? Or are my assumptions about psychopaths and people with antisocial personality disorder wrong? I relate to Eve but look what she is underneath it all...so does that mean I relate to that part of her too?” Not only is villanelles character relatable, but people see the freedom inherent within her, the freedom that Eve sees, and they realize that, at least on some level, they want it too. The show has (unintentionally I think) created a massive dialogue which is super cool and you can tell everyone involved on the show is aware of that now, I mean they have a consulting psychiatrist so I think that speaks for itself. This is less of a commentary on the character herself and whether or not she is a genuine psychopath, and more so a commentary on the conversations she has inspired and why... For the record, this is literally just my opinion sprinkled with a few facts, nothing else.

So, the term psychopath gets thrown around in the show, more so in the beginning, MI6 explicitly labels Villanelle this way, even going so far as to use her in a presentation about psychopaths, although I think that was more so to gauge Eve’s response than anything else. The reality of Villanelle, which we come to learn, is that nobody has been able to get close enough to really know the truth. Anna and Konstantin both got close but we never hear either of them use that word (Konstantin says it once but he clearly doesn’t mean it, it was more of an attempted manipulation tactic). They make it clear that she has, and can, and WILL cause damage, but that’s as far as they go. Eve is getting close and she tells Villanelle when they first meet that she knows Villanelle is a psychopath but it’s obvious from Eve's behavior and things she says later on that she truly doesn’t believe Villanelle is what everyone says she is. It’s easier to label her as a psychopath because that alienates and isolates her and her behavior completely. She is an outlier with behavioral anomalies and therefore it isn’t necessary to look any closer. For MI6 and others (not talking about the shows creators) to label Villanelle as a psychopath is easy, it’s lazy, it’s reductive, it serves a single purpose... a means to an end. They (anyone other than Eve basically) simply do not care about Villanelle’s truth. But as an audience we are lucky enough to see more of her with each episode. The psychopath label begins to fade and Oksana is what’s left. We know based on what she has said that she is aware that people think she is a psychopath, a monster, a person built to kill. It’s not always easy to decide that who you are is different from who you’ve always been told you are, especially given her history. Villanelle hasn’t told us yet if she thinks (or knows) that she is a psychopath, but it’s clear towards the end of last season that she no longer wants to be the person that they (meaning the twelve, Dasha, Konstantin, etc.) created. We see moments where she clearly has no remorse and clearly enjoys what she does, but then we have little moments sprinkled in between where she very obviously struggles, even if its short lived. And those moments are important. We have the moment where she struggles with the choice to shoot Konstantin, saying he is a good person, she thinks. This comes shortly after a conversation she had where Irina tells Villanelle she thinks she is a good person because she is sad, so we know she is thinking about it, we know the awareness is there, and it becomes more and more there as times goes on. I like to think of it in terms of having moments that are pure Villanelle (ie the way she killed Inga in the Russian prison), and then we have moments that are Oksana, vulnerable and emotional. Villanelle is a creation and a mask whereas oksana is the truth. Those moments are starting to really mean something. I'm not even going to start with her trip to find her family, that’s its own thing, but it's a Really Big Thing.

So. Villanelle is not a psychopath in the way that we currently understand and perceive them. Yes, she displays psychopathic traits, and yes, she absolutely has antisocial personality disorder. I read an article where the psychiatric consultant for the show (makes it pretty obvious how hard they worked to make Villanelle as realistic as possible) said that the Villanelle in Luke Jenning’s books scored a 32 on Hare’s psychiatric checklist, but I like to think (and I think a lot of people would agree) that number is a bit high, at least for Jodie’s Villanelle, maybe not even hitting 30 at all (close though, let’s be real lol). The max score is 40 which would be a fully blown primary psychopath. For reference, Ted Bundy scored 39. This checklist is flawed though, mostly created and based off the prison population. Which is why it isn’t used as a proper diagnostic tool. 32 is apparently extraordinarily high for a female (think Aileen Wuornos), which brings me to my next point which is that because it’s hard to measure a lot of the classic traits objectively, there is not a ton of solid data surrounding psychopathy, and even less of it is on female psychopaths. Like most things in life, psychopathy exists on a spectrum, there are levels and layers. It’s not black and white, there’s no definitive test (psychopathy isn’t even in the DSM-5 because as I said earlier it’s extremely hard to measure objectively) and it's important to distinguish between someone who exhibits psychopathic traits and someone who is actually an identifiable psychopath. Chances are high that someone you know displays at least one characteristic shared with psychopaths and this doesn’t make them one.

I think what’s important about this is that mental disorders (mental illness/personality disorders/etc.) of any kind are much more nuanced than a lot of people tend to think they are. That they exist less in black and white and more in shades of grey. Jodie Comer is absolutely remarkable for showcasing that through portraying the different layers of Villanelle. Her performance is a literal gift. We cannot keep thinking and acting like we know everything about how a person thinks, feels, and behaves based strictly and entirely on one label. The thing that has stuck out to me the most, the reason I decided to even write this bullshit babble, is that one of the most searched topics about the show is whether or not it’s realistic that Villanelle cries, and honestly how sad is that? That makes me sad for V. Is it more realistic for her to develop connections and cognitive empathy if she was made into a psychopath vs if she was born that way? Is there a legitimate difference between the two? And how do we even decide which one is applicable for someone? It’s important to add that antisocial personality disorder is not the same thing as psychopathy or sociopathy. You can have aspd and not be a psychopath. Research has shown that about only a third of those diagnosed with aspd would meet criteria to be considered a psychopath. Society is not doing a great job at getting people to understand this. But to be fair, understanding personality disorders specifically has been somewhat problematic, a lot of diagnostic confusion and overlap between disorders. A LOT of work needs to be done. But as far as portrayals go, society has strictly chosen to go the route of giving us psychopathic characters and having them be inherently violent, incapable of remorse, feelings, or change. Poverty of all emotions. Subhuman. They are made out to be so abnormal and unrelatable to the point where the character of Villanelle has sparked so much debate and fascination simply because she exists in a way that actually IS relatable...and layered and beautiful and thrilling. We thought she would be the bad guy and yet we root for her at every turn, we cry for her, we want good things for her! We see her darkness and without question or hesitation we forgive it. She makes us question what we’ve previously been shown. Questioning whether or not it’s realistic that she acts the way she does is less important than questioning our own personal assumptions and beliefs and where those come from. I think that’s awesome. Villanelle is truly a gift. She is hands down one of the most well written fictional characters, which is saying a lot considering when you put something, or someone, in a box it doesn’t leave tons of room for expansion. and I honestly don’t even really need to say this, but.. Jodie Comer.

#killing eve #villanelle #jodie comer #eve polastri #sandra oh #villaneve #feel free to rb #if you want #oksana astankova

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hopelessromanticvirgo · 4 years ago

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Sincerely, Always Yours

Chapter 47

Chapter 46

“Oh god, I can’t believe we wasted so much time.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Fuck you.”

“You just did.”

Robbe lightly slapped Sander’s hand away, which was slowly caressing his cheek with his thumb, from his face when he said that, shook his head and blushed. Sander laughed at his reaction and put his hand back on its previous place, Robbe didn’t pushing it away this time, leaning onto his tender touch.

“It’s true though, if you haven’t told me that you were in love with Jens back that day, I would have confessed my feelings for you.” Sander said, looking down at the boy who was laying on his stomach, on Sander’s chest.

“Yeah sure.” Robbe rolled his eyes in amusement, his whole face glowing.

“I swear, I was going to.” Sander admitted, taking in the other boy’s beauty, having a power to admire it freely, without any fear because that boy was his. His to love and admire as long as Sander wanted, nobody was taking him away from Sander, and it was true, Robbe was right there with him, in his arms, where he belonged to and he would stay here forever. Call him possessive but that’s how he felt, and he also learnt being possessive from the boy he was in love with.

“Uhuhh.” Robbe teased again, leaning down to kiss his nose. He put his head on his hands, still fully laying on Sander’s chest.

“You just don’t want to admit that it was your fault.” Sander said, pulling his eyebrows up in challenge.

“If that’s what you want to believe, babe.” Robbe said, rolling his eyes again, shrugging his shoulders, deeply starting into Sander’s eyes.

Sander shivered at the nickname, this whole thing still felt like a dream and he knew he wouldn’t get used to it quickly, but he could learn to live like this, living his dream life.

It felt like heaven, finally getting everything he ever wanted. Sander feels powerful, like he can move the mountains with his words. He’s happy, he’s extremely happy.

Robbe turned a bit so now he was snuggling up on Sander’s side, his left hand on his naked chest, his fingers drawing some lines.

Sander followed gazed down on Robbe’s fingers and then started laughing.

The boy looked up at him confusingly, silently asking what he found so funny.

Sander smirked.

“You act all cute and adorable right now, but you’re an animal.” Robbe still looked confused, and because of that, Sander pointed at his chest with his eyes, and that’s when Robbe’s eyes went wide, he pushed himself into his neck to hide his face, making the older boy laugh, pulling him closer with his arm around his shoulder.

“I’m just saying, you seem to have a very violent personality.” Sander kept teasing, smiling at the boy who was making noises in complain, against his skin.

In a minute, Robbe pushed himself a little bit up, so he was leaning on his elbow, looking down at Sander’s body, which was covered in love bites, not only they were red, but most of them already turned dark purple and there wasn’t just a few of them. His whole neck and half of his chest was full of them.

“I just love to mark my territory.” He smiled at him, his face still flushed.

“Yeah, I can see that. There isn’t any way for me to at least try to hide them.” Sander said while examining the ones he could see.

“Oh but Sander, that’s the whole point, and we also can’t forget that I love doing this, and you also adore them very much, I could figure out by the noises and your reactions.” He leaned forwarded, pecked his lips, smirking at him because he knew he was right.

“Oh yes, I very much enjoyed it.” Sander said, taking one of his hands to grip Robbe’s neck and hair, making the boy throw his head back a little bit.

“You’re a vampire. My cute little vampire.” He whispered, his other hand trailing down on Robbe’s chest, making the boy let out a desperate sigh.

“I don’t care what I am, I only care that I’m yours, that’s the most important part.” Robbe said, staring into his green eyes, daringly.

“You’re mine and nobody is taking you away from me, that’s final.” Sander told him, tightened his grip on Robbe’s hair, making the younger boy let out a moan.

“And you’re mine.” Robbe gulped, his face as serious as it can get, making Sander grin.

“I am, I always was and I always will be.” As soon as he said that, Robbe was on him, putting both of his legs on other side of his body, leaning forward, kissing him and holding his face with his hands.

It was crazy how just a few days ago, they would never imagine this, and how fast everything between them would change.

“I waited years to hear that.” Robbe said when they pulled away, putting their foreheads together.

“And I waited years to say that.” Sander whispered, completely consumed by the look Robbe was giving him, never feeling this kind of emotion in his whole life.

He got closer, put his head down just a little bit, trailing down his neck, gently biting down the skin, feeling Robbe running his fingers though his already grown out roots, pushing his head back, making it easier for Sander to reach his skin.

Suddenly, Robbe’s phone started ringing. The younger boy let out groan, noticing how Sander wasn’t stoping any of his movement.

“Just ignore it.” He head his lover mumbled, licking the skin.

“I can’t - what if it’s important?” Robbe said but he was still pushing his head back, giving Sander the full control, more skin to cover, not moving regardless of what he just said.

“More important than me?” Sander teased, enjoying the noises the boy was making.

“Nothing is more important than you, and you know what but wait -“ he said, quickly pulling out of his grasp, kissing him and bending down from the bed to pick up the phone he threw on the floor somewhere, almost falling off of the bed but Sander managed to catch his leg, laughing.

“Got it.” Robbe grinned when he saw and took it, letting Sander know he should help him up.

After he got back on where he was before, he looked down and saw it was Sander’s mom calling.

He put his phone in Sander’s hands, who answered it, taking Robbe’s right hand in his own, started to play with his fingers. Now both of them were sitting up against the headboard.

“Hey, mom.”

“Oh thank god, where were you? I couldn’t reach your phone and I got worried, I didn’t want to bother Robbe but I couldn’t help myself.” Robbe heard her voice loud and clear coming from his phone.

“Well, I’m okay mom, more than okay actually.” Sander started, threw a quick glance at the boy next to him, making him smile. “I’m with Robbe. Nothing to worry about.”

“Wait - wait - does that mean?” She paused stopped in the middle of the sentence but apparently that was enough for Sander to understand what she meant.

“Yes.” He rolled his eyes.

“Really? Are you serious?”

“I am.” Sander laughed.

“No, let me talk to Robbe, I don’t trust you.” His mom said and Sander put down his phone, pretending to be annoyed, putting her on speaker, mumbling ‘nobody cares about what I have to say’ making Robbe laugh.

“Hi.” Robbe said, excited to be included in this conversation.

“Hello, darling. Did he finally tell you?” She asked, her voice getting higher from happiness.

“Yes, he did.” Robbe said, taking the hand that was holding his own, bringing it to his lips, kissing it softly, grinning to ear to ear.

Sander’s mom was quiet for a while, realizing what she just heard and then she carefully asked: “Does that mean- are you two?”

Sander couldn’t hold back anymore, he groaned and then let out a laugh.

“Oh my god, yes, mom.” That was it and they heard her scream from the other side of the phone from happiness.

“Mom, no, you’re embarrassing me.” Sander whined, blush covering his cheeks and neck, the whole thing being the extremely amusing for Robbe, laughing as he was watching it unfold in front of him, looking from Sander to the phone in his hands and then back at him again.

He always loved Sander’s mom and their relationship’s dynamic.

“Oh shut up, I waited years for this moment. I’m so happy for you.” She said, exhilarated.

“Okay, okay. Enough embarrassing me now.” Sander started, cutting her off, his whole face red, not even daring to look towards Robbe’s grinning and shining face.

“Robbe, you need to come over for dinner, now officially because - wait, oh my god, I was keeping it a secret but I have to tell you boys now - I two tickets to Italy for a few days on Sander’s birthday and I wanted to force him to take you with him but now that you two are finally together, I don’t have to. And we can also -“ she completely ignored her son, her excited voice kept talking and talking.

Robbe’s eyes went wide, his heart beating out of his chest at the mention of that.

“Mom! Stop! I’m hanging up. Also, my phone’s dead and I don’t have the charger, just so you will know.” Sander said fast, his finger hovering on the “end call button.”

“Okay okay, I won’t bother you anymore.” She said, being annoyed at her son. “Robbe, sweetie, take that stupid boy and come over tomorrow for dinner, okay?”

“We will -“ Robbe started but Sander quickly yelled out “bye” and hang up, throwing the phone on the bed, taking the pillow and hiding his face in it, making the boy laugh out loud.

Robbe really could get used to this, he has never felt this warmth in his whole body before.

“So - Italy huh?” Robbe said, his cheeks starting to hurt from smiling.

“Shut up. I told her no when she first brought this topic up and she promised she wouldn’t buy the tickets.” Sander was mumbling, the fabric of the pillow still covering his mouth.

“She’s so cute.” Robbe told him, couldn’t believe how welcoming and sweet she was towards him. Snatched the pillow from Sander’s face, making the boy look over at him.

“Stop being such a baby. I’m actually so happy that you told her.” Robbe rolled his eyes, getting in his previous position before the phone called, on top of his body, wrapping his arms around his neck.

“I had to tell someone or else I’d go insane.” Sander said, staring up at him.

“Yes, I can relate to that. I kept everything secret until I just couldn’t, then I told Jens.” Robbe said so casually, not realizing what kind of shock news that was for Sander, whose eyes went enormous.

“Wait, what? Jens knows?”

“Of course he knows, he has been actually referring to you as my boyfriend, for months now, and I didn’t dare to correct him.” The boy said, brushing it off like it was nothing. “My boyfriend, it has a nice ring to it.” He added, loving the way it sounded, rolling from his tongue.

“Are you telling me that I - fuck I was jealous of person who was calling me your boyfriend even when I was in a relationship?” Sander couldn’t believe this, his whole life has been a total lie.

“Yep, you’re just dumb.” Everything felt so natural, like it has always been like this for them, teasing, hugging, kissing, just enjoying each other’s presence.

They both realized that they were never only friends, maybe at the beginning but they doubt it. They would never be able to be just friends, yes, they were best friends but they were lovers from the start and sooner or later, they’d figure it that they couldn’t live with out each other, and now they finally did.

“Wow. There’s a lot to take in.” Sander said, surprise still covering his face.

“You don’t say.”

“The thing is that I’d never imagine something like this. When you told me you were in love with him, all of my dreams came crushing down, after that, of course, I was noticing some things but I didn’t let my brain overthink it, knowing I’d only get hurt, you know? So I just tried not to pay attention, thinking my mind was doing tricks on me.” Sander admitted to not only Robbe, but to himself too.

“Actually, the same thing happened with me about your eye. When I first saw it on your other account, obviously I didn’t pay much attention because I just didn’t care enough, then I was like ‘it looks like Sander’s eye’ but I convinced myself that I was just seeing you everywhere, so I also didn’t think much about it and guess what? We were both right. We needed to pay attention to those signals.” It was funny really, how things turned out in the end, something they would never expect.

“You know I’d follow you if you asked right?” Robbe told him after the boy kept being silent, only roaming his hands in Robbe’s hair.

Sander looked at him confusingly and the boy added: “the tickets” letting him know what he was talking about.

“You would?” Sander questioned, raising one of his eyebrows, smile on his face.

“Are you kidding me? Going on a honeymoon with you for a few days? Who would have said no? I’m sure if things didn’t happen the way it did, we’d definitely break then, being all alone in Italy, somewhere nobody knows us, without any problems, sounds epic.”

“Well, we’re going, aren’t we?” Sander asked, just wanted to make sure.

“You’re an idiot. Of course we are, I need to say massive thank you to your mom, that’s not cheap and I don’t know how to feel about it.” Robbe said, never being used to taking and spending so much money on his own pleasure and enjoyment.

“It’s my birthday present. If that makes you feel better, nobody is giving you anything. I’m going, and I can manage to put you in my luggage.” He smirked at him, making Robbe roll his eyes, kissing him.

“So I’m your luggage now?”

“Didn’t you say that you didn’t care what you were, just cared that you were called mine?” Sander asked, completely aware that he won this conversation.

“You’re - “ Robbe shook his head, smile covering his face. “Well, I can’t argue with that logic since you, my man, are completely right.” He said, leaned down to kiss him again, the other boy quickly wrapping his arms around his back, pulling him closer.

* * *

“Aren’t you hungry?” Robbe asked, running his fingers in Sander’s hair who was laying on his shoulder.

“Hungry for you? Always.” The boy looked up at him, smirking.

“No, ugh, you’re unbelievable.” Robbe doesn’t know how he managed to go so long without this, without having him like this, but he was sure, he was never going back in those dark times.

“We need to make breakfast or lunch, or something. Fuck, I don’t even know if we have anything. I’m not in the mood to go grocery shopping right now, we can order something.” Robbe started thinking out loud, staring at the ceiling.

His mom was coming back later today, they decided that it was time she’d know the truth too. Robbe spent way too long lying to her when he and Sander were having problems, now he didn’t have to hide anything.

He told Sander how many times she’d mention him to Robbe, asking where he was and she knew they were supposed to stay together while she was away too, and in the end, universe made it work out for Robbe, since they were really staying together and he didn’t have to lie about that.

They were going to tell his mom today, Sander would spent the night here and tomorrow evening they’d go over at Sander’s place.

Everything seems to be working out perfectly and Robbe is too happy to even overthink about what could possibly go wrong.

He knows, when he has Sander by his side, he won’t be dealing with stuff alone anymore.

“I can make you croques.” Robbe said after the boy was quiet.

“No, don’t get up.” Sander whined and mumbled, cuddling up on his side, making the brunet chuckle.

“I know I won’t be able to make them as well as you do but -“ He started, also dreading the thought of leaving the bed.

“You’re the best one to make them, after me, but that’s not what I meant.” Sander said, giving him the puppy eyes look and how could Robbe turn him down?

“I know but aren’t you hungry?” He tried one more time.

“I just said, I’m only hungry for you.” Sander told him, pulling him down so they were face to face.

“You aren’t letting me go, are you?” Robbe asked jokingly after Sander entwined their bodies together, referring to him getting up to go to the kitchen but other part of him was asking this question generally and Sander understood the hiding meaning behind it.

“No, never. You just have to deal with it. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” Sander kissed his forehead, making the boy grin.

Food could definitely wait.

All of a sudden Robbe got serious, Sander noticed.

“What’s wrong?” He carefully asked, brushing off the hair that has fallen on his eyes.

“I’m sorry that I left you.” Robbe said, now staring at the wall behind Sander, not looking at him.

“What do you mean?”

“Back then. When I found out that I was in love with you. I ghosted you, I’m sorry.” He started, Sander tried to interrupt him by calling his name but Robbe didn’t let him. “No, I have to say it. You are right, it was my fault, no matter what I shouldn’t have said I was in love with Jens, I panicked, you were looking at me with something in your eyes, and maybe I also wanted to check what your reaction would be, since I knew I wouldn’t be able to tell you the whole truth.” He stared chanting, his eyes unfocused, making Sander’s heart break. “It was so hard for me, staying away from you, while all I wanted to do was to come back in your arms. And now hearing you were about to confess when I came out to you and I - I ruined everything -“ he started breathing heavily, it was obvious that this was still bothering him a lot.

“Hey, hey, stop that. I was only teasing, nothing is your fault okay? It happened how it happened, maybe I wouldn’t be strong enough to tell you I loved you, you will never know the answer to what would happen so stop punishing yourself for it.” Sander said, caressing his face with his hands, making Robbe look in his eyes.

Robbe wasn’t sure about it and Sander could see it, so he leaned down and kissed him.

“If things didn’t happen the way it did, we wouldn’t be us, we wouldn’t be as strong as we are and as in love, okay? Our past did this, we are here, together because of that. So please, let’s just close this chapter of our book and end this conversation once and for all, nothing is anybody’s fault, the universe wanted it to happen like this, alright?” He asked, hoping that his boy would stop beating himself up for this, fortunately, Robbe nodded, kissing him back, putting their foreheads together.

“You’re right, yes.” He whispered.

Sander smiled, saying “I’m always right” making Robbe glare at him.

Some time passed and they were still in the same position, just looking at each other, when Robbe started giggling.

“What?” Sander asked, interested in what he had to say.

“Can you believe that we kissed that day?” Robbe asked, referring to the night they got high.

“No, Robbe, I can’t believe it since I don’t remember.” He said, slightly annoyed at himself because he couldn’t remember this huge part of their relationship.

“Ugh, you are no fun.” Robbe breathed out, holding half of his face against his palm.

“I was worrying about sleeping with someone I didn’t know, while you were the one eating my skin and you didn’t say anything.” Sander said, grumpily.

“Well, what could I say? I only remembered us kissing, I had zero clue about the hickey, that’s why I was overthinking that maybe all of my memories were fake.”

“Looking at your art work on my body right now, I guarantee you that it was yours.” Sander teased, making the boy blush.

“I told you, about the kissing part. You were the only person I admitted it to.” Robbe whispered, then his smiled dropped, he paused. “You thought it wasn’t you, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. I already knew you weren’t telling me something and when you said that, in my mind it was clear that we split up, I did some things with a stranger or I don’t know and you - with -“ Sander started, couldn’t finish it, but he didn’t have to, Robbe knew exactly what he was trying to say.

“We were together the whole night, that’s what I remember but when you told me you didn’t remember anything, I tried to make myself believe it was all hallucinations.” Robbe said, still touchy about remembering how much in pain both of them were just a few weeks ago.

“I cried.” Sander said suddenly after being quiet for a while.

“Huh?”

“When you told me about this, while talking to me on the other account, I cried, a lot.”

“No, Sander.” He whispered, pulling the boy closer so their whole bodies were touching each other, then it hit him, his eyes went wide.

“When you didn’t text back? For an hour or two?” He carefully asked, already knowing the answer to it, Sander nodded his head.

“My baby.” Robbe cuddled up to him, holding his hands.

He felt his heart shattering at the thought of how much they secretly hurt each other, while not even knowing it.

Robbe felt horrible about it but like Sander said, they had to move on from this, so now, he tried to lighten up the mood.

“If that makes you feel better, I cried a lot too when you were hanging out with that bitch.” Robbe said, so casually like it wasn’t a big deal at all and it made Sander sadly chuckle.

“You’re a jealous boy, aren’t you?” Sander rhetorically asked, already figured out and knew how much Robbe despised when Sander was dating her, everything Robbe said about “my best friend’s girlfriend” was about her.

“Oh yes, I definitely am. And I’m not sorry about it. You belong to me, and only me and that’s final.” He said out of possessiveness, making Sander laugh.

“Easy there, tiger.” Sander said, turning his head to kiss him again.

“But you’re right. My whole heart, soul, body, existence belongs to you.” He said, looking up at him.

“You’re so sappy.” Robbe said, trying to hide the blush he got from his words, but he failed and he realized that when Sander hit him with “I saw that.”

“You didn’t see anything.” Robbe mumbled, not taking his face out of Sander’s neck.

“No I saw that, I saw that, let me see.” Sander started, sitting up on top of him, Robbe immediately putting his hands on his face.

“Take our hands off, I want to see you.” Sander said, smiling while the boy under him kept shaking his head.

“Okay then, if this is what you want. I already warned you.” Before Robbe even had time to ask what he meant, fingers were ticking him on his side, making him laugh, automatically taking his hands off of his face, struggling to catch a breath.

“There’s my beautiful boy.” Sander said, after Robbe showed his face, holding the hands in his own so he wouldn’t cover his face again, seeing how Robbe was burning in color red. Sander leaning down, starting kissing his forehead, then his eyelids, nose, cheeks until he finally got to his lips. Robbe was staring at him like he wasn’t real, in pure bliss, enjoying everything, feeling so happy that he was afraid he was gonna explode from the feelings.

“Just come here.” Robbe laughed, kissing him, freeing his arms wrapping them around his neck.

“I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.” Sander said, against his lips when they pulled away to take a breath.

“You better not.” Robbe gave him a teasingly stern look, admiring the way Sander looked, staring down at his body, covered in his marks, as it should be, feeling proud.

Sander laid down next to him, putting his hand on his chest, moving it up and down, kissing the skin on his shoulder before closing his eyes.

“You’re sleepy?” Robbe asked softly, enjoying the warmth of his boyfriend’s body pressed against him.

They actually haven’t talked about the titles or anything, not that they had to. Everything was obvious.

Sander hummed, kissed his skin again. Robbe also closed his eyes, listening to the sounds coming from the street. It was already way past afternoon but he didn’t care, all he cared about was a boy in his arms, about to fall asleep again, so he kissed his hair, and closed his eyes too.

* * *

When they woke up again it was already dark, around six or seven o’clock, but they still had some time until Robbe’s mom would come back.

Robbe texted her, letting her know that they didn’t have any food at home but she told him she was going to buy some stuff when she’d get off the train. Robbe also suggested going to the station to meet her but she refused, said she was going to take a taxi.

Robbe was more than happy that he didn’t have to leave Sander’s side.

They decided that it was finally time to get up. Sander took a shower and when he came back, Robbe had a few options of clothes he could wear, ready on the bed, all of them being Sander’s, ones he had stolen from his wardrobe.

As soon as Sander saw them, his eyes went wide, then he smirked, walking in the room with a towel wrapped around his waist, looking down at the clothes: “Oh, so that’s where all my hoodies and T-shirts went.”

“Shut up, you had no idea.” Robbe answered him, while putting the clothes on the chair so he could make the bed.

“I mean, maybe not exactly but I knew you had some.” Sander admitted, putting on one of his old sweatpants and hoodie.

“What?” Robbe turned around, with a confusion written on his face.

“Yeah, one time we were FaceTiming and you were wearing my hoodie. I didn’t think much about it, I just thought you wore it at my house and then forgot it was mine. Obviously, I wouldn’t ask you anything about it and I loved the fact that you had my clothes.” He smirked, now looking in the mirror, trying to comb down his wet hair.

“Wow.” Robbe said, coming behind him and then standing next to him, admiring him.

“I didn’t know you had this many though, I was constantly looking for them, thinking I was going insane since they started disappearing. What were you trying to do? Take so many of them so I’d end up being naked?” He asked, shooting him a look from the mirror.

Robbe laughed, putting his hand on his shoulder. “Yep, that’s exactly what I was trying to do. Worked pretty well, didn’t it?” Smirked at him, started walking away from the room, calling back: “if you think you are getting them back, sorry, but you are very wrong, love.”

“I’m okay with that. Make me a coffee?” Sander yelled out for him when he was already in the hallway, going to the kitchen.

Robbe walked, humming to himself, start making something to eat and of course, coffee.

He felt like he was stuck in a dream, but for the first time in his life, he admitted that he deserved this, to be happy and he was finally getting what he deserved.

He made some mistakes, yes, but who hasn’t? To balance it off, he also got hurt a lot, and now it was time for him to live as happily as he possibly could.

They were okay, more than okay like Sander said, both emotionally and physically.

Sander’s hand was almost completely healed, he took of the bandage a few days ago, now he had a long scar following down his skin on his arm, they told him that there was a big chance it’d almost disappear since the healing process was very successful, and he could also do a few procedures if he wanted to make it vanish completely. Robbe spent at least half an hour kissing every inch of it.

They were still exhausted, mainly because of how stressful everything has been for them but after this, Robbe was sure, they could finally breath normally.

It was about the time when he felt hands wrapping themselves on his body, behind him, the boy putting his face in his neck.

“Guess who?” He asked, laughing.

“Who? Lost rebel?” Robbe rolled his eye, loving the warmth of Sander pressed against him.

Sander chuckled, decided to ignore the last comment.

“You’re gonna make me coffee everyday when we get married too?” He asked, making Robbe almost choke on his breath.

“We’re getting married?” The way Sander, oh so casually said that was making Robbe crazy.

“Of course we are.” Sander said in the tone of ‘what kind of question even is that’ making Robbe’s soul melt.

His heart started beating fast, he needed to change the topic so he wouldn’t burst out of the emotions: “You won’t be able to sleep tonight, it’s way too late for coffee, San.” He said, putting the sugar in the cup, Sander’s hands were wrapped around his shoulders now making it a little bit harder for him to move but Robbe didn’t mind it.

“Who said I’m planning to sleep tonight?” Sander teased, kissing his neck, making Robbe whimper.

This boy - I swear.

“Can you take the eggs out of the fridge?” Robbe asked, when he finished getting water ready to pour it in the kettle.

Sander nodded his head in agreement, kissed the back of his neck, letting go of him to do exactly what he was told.

Robbe turned around, put the kettle down and as he took another step, he slipped on the floor tiles, yelped out a little bit and was about to reach for the counter to balance himself but Sander was there giving him a hand.

“Why are you so clumsy?” Sander jokingly asked.

“Ugh, can’t you do anything else but make fun of me all day?” Robbe shook his head, silently glad that he managed to catch him before Robbe’d hit his head on the cold floor.

“Didn’t I say I’d catch you if you fall?” Sander asked, not minding the last sentence Robbe said, making the boy remember that day when Sander promised him he’d be there to catch him.

Robbe wrapped his arms around his neck, standing on his tiptoes, whispering: “Maybe you need to be holding me in your arms all the damn time so I won’t fall on the floor” bringing his face closer to him.

Sander smiled, looked him up and down.

“I think so too. If I won’t be holding you, you might hurt yourself and we don’t want that, do we?” Sander asked. Robbe shook his head, smiling up at him.

“Then it must be a great news to hear that I never plan to let go of you.”

Chapter 48

#wtfock #wtfam #sobbe #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #robbe x sander #social media au #sincerely always yours

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infiniteiram · 3 years ago

Text

I Think You’re In My Seat.

a vds one shot. you can find more on my ao3.

( @ apolloswords )

feel free to comment/message me any suggestions for one shot ideas!

Unfortunately, the airlines messed up the seating arrangement and Jens is forced to sit on his own. Fortunately, someone else's seating arrangement was also messed up.

"Bad news," Moyo announced as Jens followed closely behind him. "They messed up our seats."

"What?" exclaimed Sander, giving the both of them a puzzled look. "How did they manage to do that?"

"The system completely messed up everyone's seats." Jens explained. "So, since we checked in late, we basically got the scraps. Which means, there is a very slim chance we're all stuck together." He reached over and flicked the back of Aaron's head. "I told you if you showered in the morning we would be late."

"I didn't expect you guys to show up so early." He groaned. "I wasn't even awake yet."

Jens snorted. "Well, you know we still had to take the train. Bottom line is, we can thank you for the shitty seats."

"But, not so shitty." Moyo added. He began to pass the new tickets around, the ones with the new seat number on them. "Robbe, Sander, we managed to snag you the last two seats together. Kind of at the front."

"You are a miracle worker." Sander laughed as he patted Moyo's shoulder. "What about you guys? Where are you guys sitting?"

"Jens has a window seat near the middle of the plane, I'm a few rows behind him and Aaron has a seat at the very back of the plane." Moyo continued on. "And no Aaron, we are not switching."

"Oh come on, it's going to take forever for me to get out. And I'm going to be near the bathrooms, I better not see Sander and Robbe going in at the same time."

Robbe blushed and hid his face into Sander's shoulder. "I don't think we're that promiscuous."

Sander only snorted. "Maybe it'll be revenge on Aaron for making us late."

"Hey, Moyo got you guys sitting together, why're you complaining?"

The rising teasing between his friends seemed to be getting louder, but Jens let their conversation fade around him. He was distracted by the bustle of the airport, people of all ages rushing around. The start of the summer months was probably a busy time for this place, and as much as he loved and adored Belgium, it felt nice to be headed somewhere else.

His eyes wandered among the crowd of people. Giggling kids with their decorated backpacks, business executives looking rather posh in their work attire with a cup of coffee in their hands and other older adults double-checking their bags for their passport and boarding passes. But his eyes only lead him somewhere else.

A few feet away were a group of three boys his age. One of them was leaned against the wall, his dark long curls giving contrast to his light brown skin. He was smiling at the guy to his right, who was sitting on top of a small carry-on luggage with a bright yellow backpack on. This boy also had dark hair, though it was cut short and just barely touched the tips of his ear, where a dangly earring hung. But the boy who really caught his attention was standing on an angle in front of them. From Jens' perspective, he could make out the sharpness of his jaw, the straight bridge of his nose and a small smile on his delicate pink lips. His light brown curls hung quite effortless in front of his face, and the denim jacket he had on fit his body nicely. Jens discreetly eyed him up and down, and felt a rush of adrenaline shoot through his body. He'd never been the type to admire strangers from afar, let alone be completely smitten over one.

But that was exactly what he was feeling right now.

His daydreaming was quickly interrupted by a sharp jab into his ribs. Wincing, he gave Aaron a glare.

"What was that for?"

"Moyo said you were staring too long. I asked what you were staring at and he told me just to ask you." Aaron responded rather innocently before shrugging his shoulders. "So what were you staring at?'

Feeling a blush rise to his cheeks, Jens bit his lip and pretended he had no idea what Aaron was talking about. "Nothing that concerns you." He mumbled out, looking down at his feet.

He heard Moyo snicker from his other side. "Aaron, I don't think you're going to have to worry about just Sander and Robbe sneaking off to the bathroom."

Now Jens elbowed Moyo's ribs. Not as harshly as Aaron did, but harsh enough. Moyo laughed and held up his hands in defence. Both Sander and Robbe raised their brows at him, before trying to sneakily turn around to figure out what Jens was eyeing at. Who Jens was eyeing at. When they came face to face with the other trio, they snickered to themselves as Jens gave them a side eye.

"Damn Jens," Robbe teased. "Three options?"

"One." He admitted, mumbling again. "But I'm not saying which one."

"You know what would be extremely lucky." Sander teased. "If you ended up sitting beside him."

Jens felt his face go a bit more red but scoffed, trying to play it cool. "It's better than sitting beside Aaron."

"Hey!" Aaron protested.

"Now boarding flight 2121." The intercom announced above them.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Robbe and Sander smile softly at each other. He had no idea what the sentiment meant, but judging by the way they looked at each other, it had something to do with their little love story. Jens tried not to feel the way his heart stung suddenly. He would never admit it, but he envied the way all his friends were very content in a relationship but he was not. For the most part, he never felt left out- just, rather lonely. Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he made sure both his passport and boarding pass were in his hand as he walked up to the flight information desk. The flight attendant smiled at him and ushered him off. Taking a deep breath, he trudged down the boarding bridge at a slower speed. He couldn't help but to also feel a tinge of disappointment. The boy in the denim jacket from earlier hadn't been sitting around their gate, and he hadn't seen him since him and his friends had wandered off twenty minutes ago. There was now exactly zero chance of scoring a seat beside him, even if his chances from before were still close to zero.

He felt Moyo slap his shoulder, which startled him a bit.

"See you in two hours." He remarked.

"I hope you seat mate is some old grandma who can't hear very well but insists on talking." Jens taunted playfully, as he found his seat. Slipping into the small aisle, he flopped down on the window seat and gave Moyo a handshake before he headed off.

"I hope I get a cute girl." Aaron remarked, as he slowly passed Jens' aisle.

Raising brow, Jens smirked. "How would Amber feel about that?"

"You're right. I hope I get the grandma." Aaron muttered while rolling his eyes.

Jens looked over the other seats as other passengers clambered about, stumbling into their seats or trying to put their carry on luggage up on the overhead storage. A few rows up stood Sander and Robbe, who waved at him before the settled into their seat. When he knew all of his friends were in their seats, he sighed heavily and placed his backpack underneath the seat above him. Tapping his fingers on the arm rest as he bounced his leg, he distracted the remaining minutes before takeoff by looking outside of his window.

Only to be interrupted less than two minutes after.

"I think you're in my seat." A voice with a slightly different accent announced.

Turning his head to face the person the voice belonged to, he felt his face heat up again.

It was the boy from earlier, the one in the denim jacket. Only this time, he was standing very close to Jens. He could now make out the silver rings on his finger, the way his jacket actually hung over more over his shoulders than he thought and the colour of his eyes. The vibrant blue that stared into his brown ones, its colour so bright that Jens didn't believe colour existed before this moment. Realizing he was probably gawking at him, Jens swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to conceal his mess of emotions.

"No? I'm pretty sure this is my seat."

The boy reached over, showing his boarding pass. Squinting a bit, Jens read the seat number and frowned.

"I think they double booked the seat." He stated, looking back up at the boy.

Shrugging, the boy just ran a hand through his curls and sat down. Jens was rather surprised at his chill and confident behaviour, which had him going through an even more internal mess of feelings.

Trying to avoid gazing at him for so long, Jens turned around and started biting the inner corner of his cheek. He suddenly felt very nervous that the boy was beside him now, and if he let his arm up on the armrest, there would be the slightest physical contact between them.

Coming down the aisle was the other two guys, the rest of his trio. The one with the dark curls wiggled his brows at him, only to be lightly smacked on the arm as he passed through. The other boy, the one with shorter hair and was now wearing sunglasses with red lenses, reached out to pinch his cheeks. The boy ducked swiftly and snorted, looking behind him as his friends sat down. Jens noticed that the other two were sitting in different aisles, just like him and the Broerrs.

"Did they fuck up your seats too?" Jens asked, attempting to make conversation.

"Yeah, clearly." He laughed lightly, before fully turning his head to face Jens. "I'm Lucas."

"Jens." He nodded before trying to give him a small smile. It wasn't that smiling at him was an issue, Jens just didn't want to make it so obvious that his slight crush was growing by the second.

Fortunately, Lucas smiled back. "Are you travelling alone?"

"No, my friends are scattered about as well. That's how I figured the airline must have also messed up your seats up as well."

Laughing lightly, Lucas shook his head, his curls gently moving about. "I figured they messed up after seeing someone else in my seat. I just hope I'm not stealing someone else's."

"I don't think so. I think you and your friends were the last ones to board. See? They're closing up the doors now."

Lucas wasn't as tall as Jens, so he couldn't see above the seats. He put his hands on the armrest and lifted himself up a bit. The slight brush of his fingers just barely grazing over Jens' hoodie sleeve was enough to send sparks through his body. The very slight contact had his face turning pink again, and he needed to calm down before Lucas noticed.

"You're right." He agreed, bringing himself back down. "To be honest, I thought they would close the plane before we got on. It's a miracle I'm here right now."

"Why's that?"

"My friend Jayden, he's back there with his red glasses, decided to be an idiot and lose his passport somewhere in the airport. We came from a connecting flight from Amsterdam, so at least it's not there."

"I get that, my friend Aaron also decided to be an idiot. He woke up late which lead us to checking in late, which lead us to shitty seats and being separated." Jens added, before biting his lip. "So, you're from Amsterdam?"

"Not quite. Utrecht, but the closest airport is Amsterdam. So, to get to Rome, we needed a connecting flight." He explained, before tilting his head a bit. "Are you from Brussels?"

"Not quite." Jens repeated, laughing a bit. "Antwerp. We're actually much closer to each other than we would've been."

"Yet we meet on a flight to another country." Lucas remarked, a glint sparkling in his blue eyes.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we will now begin the departure to Rome, Italy." An attendant called over the intercom.

The plane began to move beneath them and Jens double checked that his seatbelt was on. The attendants began to do the safety instructions in front of them, and Jens turned his head to look back out the window. After a few minutes, his instincts told him to look at Lucas, who hadn't said anything since the departing announcement.

Poor Lucas was squeezing his fists so hard that his knuckles were white and his face was drained of colour. The slight pink of his cheeks were gone and he was squeezing his eyes shut, taking in deep breathes to calm himself down. Jens widened his eyes, internally panicking as he had no idea what to do.

Reaching out slowly and slightly, he put a warm hand on top of one of Lucas' fists. The skin beneath his own was ice cold, and Lucas opened his eyes quickly, surprised to see that Jens was looking at him.

"Nervous flyer?" Jens asked lightly, but softly enough to be comforting.

He huffed out a nervous laugh. "Yeah, can you tell?"

"Just a little." He paused, unsure how to go about this. "Do you, uhh, do you maybe want to hold my hand?"

"May I?"

"Of course."

It took Lucas a second. But after feeling the plane begin to move faster as it lifted off the runway, he unclenched a fist and grabbed onto Jens' hand. His tight grip should have also cut off Jens' circulation, but Jens stayed calm. He let his thumb rub gently circles on top of Lucas' hand, trying to ease him a bit. After a few moments, he felt Lucas' grip loosen a bit, some warmth beneath their hands and Lucas' breathing being a little less restrained. Lucas' eyes were still closed, and Jens eyed him up and down, taking in the entire wonder of this boy.

This boy, who he realized, was holding his hand.

Of course, the intention was innocent. But Jens suddenly felt his heart race as he continued to let his touch calm Lucas down a bit. He couldn't believe he was holding his hand and if any of his friends knew, he would never hear the end of their teasing. When the plane was soaring through the sky at a steady pace, Lucas sighed heavily and fluttered his eyes open. After a few seconds in which he recollected himself, he turned to Jens and gave him a soft smile.

"Thanks, sorry, I didn't think I'd get so nervous. I was fine on my first flight, but to be fair I'm really tired. I didn't sleep much last night."

"It's okay." Jens smiled back, reassuring him. He noticed the way Lucas still hadn't let go of his hand, and he was just fine with that. "Do you always get nervous when you fly?"

"Mostly, yes. But not like, that bad. Except for now. I think I lost all feeling in my body."

"Probably helps if you actually sit by someone you know huh?" He joked.

Smiling a little wider, Lucas huffed out another nervous laugh. Though this time, it felt a bit lighter. "Yeah, but, it also helps to have someone like you to sit by."

"Someone like me?" Jens asked, unsure what the ambiguity of the statement meant.

Lucas only shrugged, giving him a grin before adding another rather vague statement. "Yeah, someone like you."

And for the second time today, Jens couldn't believe his luck. After about an hour into the flight, in where him and Lucas had quickly gotten comfortable with each other, Lucas had dozed off. Jens had recalled he was feeling a little tired, but as Lucas fell into a gentle slumber, his head slowly fell onto his shoulder. Lucas, being asleep, obviously didn't realize he had fallen asleep on his shoulder, but Jens couldn't help but feel so giddy. He didn't want to move however, because there was no way he was going to wake Lucas up and ruin this.

So, he aimlessly looked out the window and began to think. He couldn't help but feel like he had missed a chance with this boy when they parted ways after the next hour. But, he didn't know if it was too forward of him to ask for some kind of contact with him. To be fair, they had already held hands so the next natural step in this equation was to somehow get his number.

Feeling Lucas stir gently, he looked down at him. The light brown curls fell over his face gently and Jens could make out the small freckles over his nose and his eyelashes mimicking rays of sunlight as his beautiful blue eyes stayed hidden. Jens didn't know how someone could've been so beautiful, let alone be so close to him.

He truly felt like the luckiest person in the entire world.

"Sorry," Lucas mumbled, his eyes still closed. "I didn't mean to fall asleep on you."

Smiling down at him, Jens reached out to just squeeze his hand again. When they had let go of his hand, Jens tried to conceal his frown. So now, he used this as a gateway to have Lucas' hand back in his. He also liked how Lucas did't remove his head from his shoulder right away.

"It's okay. I don't mind."

He felt Lucas hum against his body, before letting out a loose giggle. "So, what are you heading to Rome for?"

"Just a trip, a quick one to start of the summer and what not. You?"

"The same." Lucas let his eyes look back up at Jens, and once again he was marvelled at the sight of them. "That's kind of a good coincidence."

"Or you know," Jens shrugged, looking away for a second. "Fate."

"Fate?"

"I mean, out of all the seats here, what were the chances you would be sitting by me? Or, let alone, having the same seat as me?"

Lucas grinned, the blue in his eyes clashing together as they became a mess of bright shades. "Seems just like a really good coincidence. Do you believe it that sort of stuff?"

"Fate?"

"Yeah."

For the second time, Jens repeated his shrug. "Sure, why not? It's kind of like, everything happens for a reason. What about you?"

"Do I believe in fate?"

"Yeah, or are you sticking to everything being a coincidence?"

"Mostly coincidence. Though, I am starting to think a little bit of all this might be fate?"

"Why's that?"

A familiar glint sparkled in Lucas' eyes again, as he let himself gaze at Jens above him. There was something knowing about the smile on his face, but Jens couldn't quite place his finger on it.

"I was going to fly out to Italy two weeks ago." Lucas began to say. "But Kes, my other friend here, had to renew his passport so we pushed our departure back. It kind of sucked at first, but not anymore."

"Sucks a little less?" Jens teased, biting the tip of his tongue between his teeth as he smiled widely.

"Definitely sucks a little less."

Both boys stood at the baggage claim. When Jens had gotten off the plane, all his friends had given him a suspicious look as the boy they had seen him admiring was suddenly following him. He had to give them credit for not saying much, as he didn't want to be embarrassed before he could even ask for his number. Aaron, and Lucas' two friends, Kes and Jayden, were still making their way towards the baggage claim. Sitting at the back of the plane was probably not idea, but it gave Jens some time with Lucas.

They got their luggage and Jens saw the other two guys, followed by Aaron, head over. Frowning slightly, he was sad to realize that Lucas and him would part ways and they would be nothing more than two random strangers who managed to sit beside each other on the plane. They weren't even from the same country, and he doubted that the universe would allow him to be this lucky again.

"Lucas!" The boy with red glasses called out, who Jens assumed was Jayden. "Who's your friend?"

"Jayden, Kes, this is Jens. Jens, meet Jayden and Kes." He introduced. "I told him I needed new friends who weren't idiots."

"Just friends?" Kes asked, raising his brows and for the first time, Lucas blushed so hard he turned pink. It made Jens smirk, amused at his reaction.

"Jens!" Aaron called out. "Who's your friend?"

Now it was time for Jens to introduce Lucas to the Broerrs. Turning around, he saw Moyo, Sander and Robbe heading towards him. When they reached him, they stood beside him, all three of them smiling widely as the smirked at the very small distance between him and Lucas.

Coughing awkwardly, Jens bounced his leg. "Luc, meet Moyo, Sander, Robbe and Aaron. Guys, meet Lucas. I met him on the plane."

"And you didn't go to the bathroom?" Aaron piped up and Jens reached behind Lucas and quickly swatted the back of Aaron's head. Aaron winced as the rest of the guys continued their smirking.

"So, where in Rome are you staying?" asked Robbe, and Jens was thankful for the opening normalcy of a new conversation.

"I forget the name, but it's like, a quick shuttle ride from here? Napoleon or something." Kes replied.

"No way?" Moyo exclaimed. "Napoleon Hotel Roma?"

"Uhm yes?" Lucas replied, furrowing his brows in confusion.

Moyo clapped Jens' chest, startling him with his excitement. "Dude, that's the one we're staying at! Did you not know that?"

"Honestly, the hotel didn't even come up in our conversation." Jens admitted.

"Well come on!" Jayden exclaimed, calling then out to follow him. "We can all head to the shuttle and get there together. How long are you guys staying in Rome for?"

"Two weeks." Sander responded, wiggling two of his fingers up.

"No way! So are we!" Kes said in surprise.

Jens looked at Lucas, who was still blushing and giggle beside him. The rest of the guys had started to follow Jayden's lead, but Jens let himself bask in Lucas' company for a few more seconds. Lucas looked up to meet his eyes, a happy grin plastered on his face.

"So, is your opinion still changing?" Jens asked, wiggling his brows.

"What?"

"Do you still think this is a big coincidence?"

"A little bit." Lucas shrugged, his grin growing wider as he took in the way Jens was looking down and smiling at him. "But, I think I'd like to think that this is definitely fate."

"And I'm pretty sure that's exactly it."

"So is this fate Jens? Were we meant to meet right here, right now?"

"I think that's what was supposed to happen. I was meant to meet someone like you."

"Someone like me?"

"Someone like you."

And with that, they followed their friends towards the airport shuttle. Jens didn't know what the rest of the trip, the rest of the summer, meant for him, but that was okay. Because when he looked down, he smiled as Lucas shyly slipped his hand into his and intertwined their fingers together. Lucas pretended he hadn't reached out for him, but Jens felt his hand squeeze against his as he repeated the circular motions with his thumb on top of his hand. They didn't have to say anything, but it was clear they were thinking the exact same thing.

Maybe everything did happen for a reason.

#vds #van der stoffels #vds fic #vds one shot #jens stoffels #lucas van der heijden #wtfock #skam nl #one shot #ao3 #ao3fic #airplane #airports #this was lowkey rushed and i was exhausted writing it #so i hope it's a little coherent

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bijvoorbeeldja · 5 years ago

Text

HERE SHE IS

The full enemies-to-lovers, “You’ve Got Mail” Sobbe AU, sprinkled with a few little surprises ***

I was NOT playin around when I said I was going to write ALL the fics during this quarantine y’all ain’t ready

Hope you enjoy! <3 I’d love to know what you think (even if you hate it)

……

Robbe’s phone buzzed on his nightstand.

earthlingoddity: good morning

He smiled into the screen, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

sterkerdanijzer: already awake?

earthlingoddity: yep

earthlingoddity: had some early morning inspiration

sterkerdanijzer: r u gonna let me see what you drew this time?

earthlingoddity: nope

earthlingoddity: against the rules

Robbe sighed, shaking his head.

Rolling out of bed, he contemplated what to type in response. This back-and-forth had been going on for months now, always coming back to this: the rules.

Clearly, they could text all they wanted. But that was it: just text. No voices, no photos showing their faces, locations, or anything else personal. Like drawings, for example. Nothing personal.

But really, everything they had been doing, all they had been talking about, felt personal to Robbe.

Screw the rules, Robbe thought. Even just through texts, he’d gotten closer to this person than anyone else in his life. Their conversations often started at dawn and spread throughout the day, lingering into the night until one of them fell asleep.

Of course, he’d agreed to the rules at the beginning. Hell, he’d made them. It was just talking, nothing else. But the more they talked, the more he wanted.

….

In a weird turn of events, Robbe had met Earthling in the comments of an Antwerp street art Tumblr, where teenagers flocked to share and comment on their latest masterpieces. Masked by alias handles, no one involved in the group knew the identities of the others. When they met up to tag at a location, everyone wore masks, hoodies, and dark clothes. Then they rehashed their work online, sharing photos and comments before planning their next meetup.

Robbe, using his disguised handle, had commented on a photo, when a stranger named earthlingoddity had commented back. Robbe had laughed and responded. The two passed banter back and forth before finally moving to DMs.

earthlingoddity: so you’re an artist, then the stranger had written him.

sterkerdanijzer: no, definitely not

sterkerdanijzer: I’m just in it for the vandalism

earthlingoddity: Hahahaha fair enough

earthlingoddity: u live in antwerp tho right?

sterkerdanijzer: pretty sure we��re not supposed to share details, STRANGER

earthlingoddity: ;-)

earthlingoddity: youre right. but i mean, we are talking now. and we’ve probably already seen each other

sterkerdanijzer: yeah maybe

earthlingoddity: I probably would have recognized a vandal tho…

sterkerdanijzer: not a chance. you’re probably one of those uppity art hoes who makes his masterpiece and doesn’t even acknowledge the little people

earthlingoddity: so you’re short then

sterkerdanijzer: enough! no personal details

Earthlingoddity: ok, so no names, no locations, no personal details. Any other rules?

sterkerdanijzer: uhm

sterkerdanijzer: no phone calls. And NO pics of your artwork. I might recognize it

Earthlingoddity: so definitely no dick pics, then

Robbe had nearly choked at this. Even though their chatting had started as nearly nothing, it had rapidly become...something. At least for Robbe. The past few weeks, their conversations had grown from occasional back-and-forths to constant communication, nearly-endless banter, and then...not-so-subtle flirting. Whatever was going on with this stranger, Robbe couldn’t bear to lose it.

…..

Once he was finally ready for school that day, Robbe grabbed his skateboard and headed out to the street. Before mounting his board on the sidewalk, he opened his last chat with Earthling, trying to muster the courage to send him the message he’d been wanting to for days.

sterkerdanijzer: what if we said screw the rules….and met up? Like IRL?

Robbe’s fingers hovered over the keys, trying to gather the courage to hit send. It was stupid, he knew, but he was so terrified of scaring this stranger away. For reasons he didn’t fully understand yet, he needed him. Assuming it was, in fact, a him. I guess it was bold of him to assume Earthling was a boy. And gay. He took a breath and kicked off, starting to roll down the street.

Then, out of nowhere, he was crashing, thrust back off his board and onto the ground as he collided with something. Or better, someone.

Ugh, he groaned. Slowly rising up, he grabbed his phone and bag, which had been expelled violently from the impact.

“What the hell, Robin?” the boy said, picking himself back up off the sidewalk where he’d fallen. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?! Do you even know how to ride that thing?”

Brushing the dirt off his hands, he looked up, already feeling stiff aches form in his joints from the fall. Looking up, he groaned again.

Of course, it was Sander Driesen. He should have known immediately. No one else had the nerve to call him Robin.

Robbe rolled his eyes. “Maybe you shouldn’t be meandering in the middle of the sidewalk,” he threw back. “Pick a side and stay out of the way of people who actually need to get somewhere.”

Sander scoffed, dusting himself off and grabbing his bag, rearranging the now-disorderly contents inside. “Right, I forgot. You’ll be late for class,” he said, the words dripping with disdain. “Ahh, to be young and only concerned with high school drama.”

Oh, how Robbe hated Sander Driesen.

Clad head-to-toe in black, with a noisy leather jacket, combat boots and a shock of (badly) bleached-blonde hair, he was a walking cliche.

The two had grown up together, coexisting side by side in school and social circles. But the two could not be more different. Because of this, their relationship didn’t amount to much more than swapped insults in passing, tense confrontations, and merciless teasing. Now that Sander had graduated high school, their interactions were fewer. But for Robbe, that was still too often.

“So tell me, O Wise One,” Robbe shot back. “If you’re so above all of us children, why are you still dating Britt? She’s not too ‘high school drama’ for you?”

Sander grimaced. “I’m not with Britt,” he said, almost clenching his teeth.

“Right, whatever,” Robbe said, ready for this encounter to be way past over. “I don’t give a damn about your personal life. In fact, I don’t give a damn about anything involving you. I have to go.”

He turned to leave, realizing he skateboard was still on the ground, rolled out of his reach, an end tucked under the heel of Sander’s boot. He smirked at Robbe.

“Oh, right. Your toy.” Sander rolled it back to Robbe, staring him down with an obnoxious smile. “See you around...Robin.”

Robbe grabbed his board and walked off in a huff, flipping Sander off as he passed. “Screw you, Sander.”

Rounding the corner, he stopped to steady his breathing. Why must his day be tainted with the influence of that fake blonde, edgy wannabe pyscho? Inhaling deep and taking advantage of his high tide of emotions, he pulled out his phone again, returning to his chat with Earthling. Do it, he told himself. Do it before you lose your nerve. Typing fast, he wrote:

Sterkerdanijzer: what if we said screw the rules….and met up? Like IRL?

He hit Send, waiting breathlessly.

Within seconds, three dots appeared. Earthling was typing.

……

The music was blaring, thumping against Robbe’s heartbeat. The crowd at the party was so thick that he was pressed up against Jens and Aaron, their combined heat making him slightly nauseous.

But all he could focus on was the neon glow of the screen in front of him, and in his mind running over and over the words Earthling had texted him hours earlier: Earthlingoddity: probably not a good idea.

Robbe had stared at it again and again, feeling that same nosedive in his stomach as he had when he first got it that morning on the street. He didn’t want to meet Robbe. So all of it had been...nothing after all. Deep down he’d known that. It was just talking. But it still felt like rejection. How could he so intensely have misread their connection? Even virtually, Robbe had felt the magnitude of it. Or so he’d thought.

All of this considered, he hadn’t been a very good wingman for his friends tonight. They’d dragged him to this party at Noor’s, scanning the room intently, looking for girls to pursue. Robbe just stood by, slumped and sipping lukewarm beer that just made his stomach turn.

Earthlingoddity: probably not a good idea he read again. Ugh. He was going to be torturing himself all night.

“Dude,” Jens elbowed him suddenly, or maybe just shifted, their proximity making it impossible to tell. “Dude, ten o’clock. That guy is totally checking you out.”

Robbe scoffed, not even bothering to look up. Gay guys at this party? He doubted it.

“Seriously, Robbe,” Jens pushed again. “He’s definitely staring. And he’s actually pretty hot.”

“Yep, totally,” Aaron agreed, nodding as he took a swig of his beer. “Definitely your type.”

“I don’t have a type,” Robbe sighed, finally tucking his phone back in his pocket and looking up. Shifting his gaze to his left, he looked in the direction the boys had indicated, trying to find a pair of eyes seeking his.

Whoa. Okay, so he was pretty hot.

Tall with messy brown hair, a boy with blue eyes was meeting his gaze. When the corners of the boy’s lips lifted in a smile, Robbe blushed, looking down. Now he looked desperate. Super.

“Go get another beer,” Jens said, shoving him forward. “See if he follows you. And act cool!”

“What? I—” Robbe protested, but the two were now pushing him together, forcing a parting of the crowd in front of them.

Robbe swallowed, palms starting to sweat. He wove slowly through groups and couples dancing, making his way to the kitchen. Inside he sought out more drinks among the counter full of bottles and cups. It only took a few moments before he heard it.

“Hey,” the voice behind him said, deep and raspy.

Robbe turned slowly, trying to swallow the dryness from his throat. The tall boy stood behind him, his beer dangling from two fingers. He leaned down to Robbe, putting his mouth close to his ear.

“I’m Nathan,” he leaned back again to look Robbe in the eyes.

“Uhm,” Robbe stammered. “I’m Rob-Robbe.”

“Hi, Robbe,” Nathan said, smiling. “Do you dance?” He took a step forward, dangerously close.

“Not if I can help it,” Robbe laughed nervously. The boy laughed too, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth and dimples. Robbe wiped a hand across his mouth, worried he was drooling now.

“Maybe another drink, then?” the boy asked. Robbe just nodded.

Nathan smiled and reached around to the counter, searching through the bottles. When he finally found an unopened one, he popped off the top easily, making Robbe’s stomach flip. So hot.

Nathan handed it to Robbe, smiling. As Robbe took it, their fingertips brushed together. Robbe looked down, blushing. Then, again, the boy’s face was leaning down. They were cheek to cheek.

“Want to get out of here?” he whispered, sending a wave of goosebumps down Robbe’s arm and spine. With a small nod, Nathan grabbed Robbe’s hand, leading him through the crowd.

…..

Outside, the air was much cooler, and Robbe felt like he could breathe again. The music blared from the door of the apartment building onto the street, but now it was just a dull throb instead of a deafening pulse.

Deep inhales of the outside air made his head feel lighter, his thoughts clearer...that is, until Nathan would brush his arm. Then he felt fuzzy again. With one arm leaning against the brick of the building, the other was casually touching Robbe’s every few minutes and Robbe could feel his knees going weak.

They had been talking for almost forty-five minutes and Robbe forgot how nice it was to talk intimately with someone he could actually be face to face with. Why had he even been bothering with Earthling? Clearly, that was going nowhere. Nathan, on the other hand, had potential. He was interesting, asking Robbe about his life and sharing details about his own. They talked easily, their touches getting progressively more frequent. Then, Nathan went silent, his gaze flicking down to Robbe’s lips. Robbe’s stomach was fluttering, licking his lips in anticipation. Nathan was leaning in, the hand against the brick sliding down to Robbe’s waist….

“Well, well well,” a loud voice behind him announced, breaking violently through their moment, causing the two to pull apart quickly. “If it isn’t my pal, Robin!”

Sander Driesen, in dark jeans and a white t-shirt, appeared next to Robbe, followed by Britt in tow. He looked from Robbe to Nathan, smiling widely.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Robbe muttered under his breath. Nathan looked confused, glancing from Robbe to the bleached-blonde boy.

“Robin?” he asked, biting his lip in bewilderment.

“Ignore him,” Robbe said, grabbing his shoulder. “C’mon.”

“Aren’t you going to introduce me, Robin?” Sander replied, cocking his head and raising his eyebrows at Robbe.

Robbe groaned. “Seriously, Sander,” he said, “Not now.”

“Oh, c’mon, buddy,” he gave Robbe’s shoulder a soft punch. “Introduce me to your friend,” the last work thick with implication.

Robbe rolled his eyes as Sander stuck a hand out to Nathan, who took it with a polite smile.

“I’m Sander,” the boy said. “Robbe and I….well, let’s just say we have a looooong history.”

Robbe glared at Sander. “We’re going now.”

As he was leading Nathan back down the street, Sander called out again, louder.

“We didn’t mean to interrupt the moment, love birds,” he said, smirking. “Carry on!” With a chuckle, Sander threw an arm around Britt’s waist and walked into the apartment.

A few feet down the sidewalk Nathan turned to Robbe. “Who was that?

“Nobody,” Robbe answered quickly, trying to turn the conversation anywhere but on Sander.

“It didn’t seem like nobody,” Nathan said quietly, rubbing a hand through his hair. “Is he...an old boyfriend, or something?”

“What?!” Robbe near-shouted, stopping to look right at Nathan. “No. No. Not even close. He drives me crazy.”

Nathan bit his lip. “Look, Robbe. I should probably get going.”

“What?” Robbe said, his face dropping. “Because of him? You can’t be serious—”

��I was probably moving too quickly,” Nathan said slowly. “I’m sorry.” He gave Robbe a quick kiss on the cheek and walked away, turning the corner out of view.

…..

Robbe didn’t care who was spilling drinks or getting their feet stepped on. Plowing through the crowd with his elbows, he found his way into the party and back to Jens and Aaron, who were in the middle of telling a story to two girls bearing plastic cups and bored expressions.

“Uhm, hey guys?” Robbe said, tapping Jens on the shoulder. “I’m going to take off.” Jens turned, quickly motioning a be right back to the girls, who nodded vaguely.

“Wait, what happened with the guy?’ Jens asked eagerly. “Are you going to his place?”

Robbe frowned. “No. It didn’t exactly...work out.”

“Sorry, man,” Aaron said, slapping Robbe’s shoulder. “Want us to come with?”

Robbe shook his head. “Nah, you guys stay. I’m going to call it a night anyway.”

Finishing his goodbyes, Robbe ditched his bottle and stepped back out in the night air, now considerably cooler. Finding his bike, he started unlocking the lock when a voice behind him again shook him out of his thoughts.

“Headed home already?” Sander. Again.

Robbe whipped around on him, finding him alone this time.

“Seriously, Sander? Can you please just leave me alone?” Robbe said, almost whining now. “You already managed to ruin this night for me once.”

This sobered Sander a little, who swallowed and took a step forward.

“Robbe, I—”

“No, I mean it, Sander. Go back to Britt, who’s apparently not your ‘girlfriend,’” Robbe did air quotes, making Sander clench his teeth again, “and leave me the hell alone.”

There was silence for a moment before Sander spoke.

“I’m sorry, Robbe.”

Robbe shook his head and turned back to his bike lock.

“I was doing you a favor, okay?” Sander spoke, his voice insistent. “That guy seemed like a real douche.” Robbe scoffed. Seriously?

“I mean, did you see his hair?” Sander continued. “Total poser.”

Robbe laughed to himself. “Yeah, like you’re one to talk,” he mumbled back at Sander.

Sander smiled at this. “Touche.”

Robbe had his bike unlocked now and he started to wheel it down the street.

“See you around, Robbe.” Sander called out.

“Yeah, don’t count on it,” Robbe replied.

As he mounted his bike, his phone vibrated. A message.

Earthlingoddity: You know what, forget what I said. Screw the rules. Let’s meet. When? Where?

………

Robbe didn’t respond to Earthling’s message for several days. When he did, he wanted to come off cool, casual. He drafted and redrafted the same message in a hundred different ways. Finally, he sent back:

Sterkerdanijzer: Yeah, okay. I guess we can. I can do Friday at 18h. Drinks at Jardim Antwerpen?

He got a reply almost immediately.

Earthlingoddity: Absolutely. I’ll be there. Without a mask ;-)

So there he was, sitting at a table watching the sun go down, turning a near-empty glass in his hands over and over again in his hands. Even with the condensation from the glass, Robbe’s palms were clammy. He was so nervous he had to occasionally reach down to calm his shaking legs.

Milan had helped him pick out an outfit, a white linen button up and jeans. Zoe had mussed his hair until she insisted it was “perfect.” But he just felt ridiculous. Why was he even doing this? If he’d learned anything from the past few weeks, it was that he knew nothing. And he was probably going to be single forever. And for all he knew, Earthling would turn out to be a serial killer.

At 18h15, Robbe started to get antsy. He messaged the boy:

Sterkerdanijzer: I’m here. White shirt, brown hair. U close?

But he got no response. He bit his lip anxiously, checking his phone constantly. At 18h45, after he had downed one more drink than he should have, he got up. Leaving a tip on the table, he shoved his phone in his pocket and headed to leave. This was a ridiculous idea, he scolded himself. So stupid. Of course he wouldn’t show.

As he neared the exit, he saw a flash of white in his peripheral. Turning, he saw a boy sitting at a table alone, phone in his hand. Sander.

As if he’d spoken his name out loud, Sander looked up, green eyes glowing. He smirked. “Small world,” he called out to Robbe. “What are you doing here?”

Robbe glared at him. “None of your business. What are you doing here?”

Sander just looked at him for a minute. “I’m, uh...waiting for Britt. She’s supposed to be here soon. Were you waiting for a date?” His knowing smile made Robbe’s insides twist.

“Right,” Robbe said, nodding. “Well, I’m going to…” he turned again to leave.

“Uhm, actually, Robbe?” he called out. Robbe turned back slightly. What was he going to say now?

“Do you think I could borrow your phone to text Britt? Mine is dead.”

Robbe hesitated. Gone from Sander’s tone was any hint of teasing. He sounded genuine. He sounded desperate, almost.

“Yeah, fine,” Robbe seceded, walking over to Sander’s table and handing over his phone.

“Thanks,” Sander said, giving Robbe a small smile as he met his gaze.

Robbe stood there as Sander typed, concentrating hard on the screen. Waiting, he glanced around again. No sign of anybody new. No sign of anybody looking for him. He was so stupid.

“So, were you supposed to meet Nathan here?” Sander asked, not looking up as he continued to type.

“Why do you care?” Robbe asked.

Sander looked up. “I’m just making conversation. I hope it wasn’t him, though. You could do better.”

Robbe scoffed. “Okay, thanks for the tip, Sander.” He turned away again. ‘Cause Sander cared SO much about him. Right.

Then Sander stood, downing the rest of his drink. “Look like she’s not coming.” But as he handed Robbe back his phone, he didn’t look sad. He was smiling. Walking toward the exit, he turned back toward Robbe.

“You coming?” Sander asked.

“What, me?” Robbe asked incredulously.

“Uh, yeah you, Robin,” Sander laughed. “Let’s go.” Walking away again, Robbe stood there, mouth open.

“Come!” Sander’s voice reached Robbe again. He was probably too drunk to think straight because next thing he knew, he was following Sander’s silhouette into the sunset.

…..

“Sander, you cannot be serious,” Robbe stood obstinately away from the door, shaking his head at the boy, who was jiggling with the lock on a door, labeled boldly with a “No Trespassing” sign. “I assumed your plans were more drinks, not jail.”

Sander kept his hands on the door handle, but turned to face Robbe, a teasing grin on his face.

“Would you chill? We’re not getting arrested. I’ve done this a hundred times.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that makes me feel better,” Robbe retorted.

Sander just laughed and continued jiggling until click. The door squeaked open. He turned and raised his eyebrows at Robbe. “Come.”

Robbe shook his head again. He could not believe this. Not only was Sander trying to ruin his social life, he was trying to get him arrested. But Sander had disappeared behind the door, and finally, reluctantly, Robbe followed behind him.

Illuminating the stairs inside with the light on his phone, Sander led Robbe to the top, where he held his hands out in a ta-da! motion, so clearly pleased with this reveal.

Reaching the top and taking in the scene, Robbe’s jaw dropped. A large, open-air pool laid out before him, neon blue water rippling with the cold wind.

“No,” Robbe started, his voice escalating. “Sander, no. We are not—”

But Sander was starting to shrug out of his jacket, then reaching down to undo the laces of his boots.

“C’mon,” he whisper-yelled. “We’re doing this!”

“You’re insane!” Robbe yelled. “There’s no way I’m getting in that pool. We will die!”

Sander laughed as he lifted his shirt over his head. “We will not die, Robbe. Just come!”

Robbe just stood there in disbelief as Sander kept shedding clothes, not stopping at his briefs. In a blink of an eye, he was completely naked and running towards the pool, jumping in with a yelp.

Robbe’s jaw dropped. Sander was actually insane. And was his skin always that golden? And did he have abs?

Emerging from the water with a screech, Sander called out again.

“Robbe, come! It’s amazing in here!”

“No,” Robbe said defiantly. “No way.”

“You’re missing out, Robin,” he called out to him in a sing-song voice.

Robbe shook his head. “It’s freezing cold!”

“Yeah, it’s freezing cold,” Sander said. “But you have to do it. Get in! Now!”

Treading water, the light from the pool making his blonde hair glow neon, Sander waited for him, smiling.

Before he could think, Robbe started unbuttoning his shirt, dropping it on the concrete. Stepping out of his jeans, he watched Sander’s eyes roam across his bare chest. He swallowed hard.

Down to his underwear, Robbe started toward the pool, berating himself for giving into the demands of a pretentious — but weirdly captivating — boy.

Okay, that was clearly the alcohol talking, he thought, shaking the idea from his head.

“Hey, hey!” Sander yelled, stopping Robbe in his tracks. “All the way or no way.”

Robbe balked at him. Was he serious? He exhaled, biting his lip. Reaching down, he stripped off his underwear, now completely bare in front of Sander Driesen. He was going to regret this. But for now, he jumped into the pool.

He had been right. It was freezing. Easily the coldest water he’d ever felt. When his head exited the water, he yelped.

“Oh. My. God.” he squealed, teeth chattering. “I am going to kill you, Sander!” He splashed around violently, trying to keep his limbs from going numb.

“Dude, can you even swim?” Sander yelled, laughing.

Robbe splashed water Sander’s way. “Are you kidding? I can swim better than you any day!”

“Was that a challenge?” Sander quipped, circling around Robbe.

“Well, yeah, I think it was!” Robbe answered. “You scared Driesen?”

Sander smiled at him. “You’re on, Robin! First one to that opposite side of the pool wins! On three!”

“One….” Robbe started.

“Two….” Sander echoed.

“Three!” They yelled in unison, taking off for the pool’s edge.

Robbe stroked, gasping deeply as he tried to find his stride. He was not going to let Sander beat him, no matter how drunk he was.

But when he reached the ledge, cheering in victory, he couldn’t see Sander. He wiped the water from his eyes, and looked beneath the water for Sander. He couldn’t see him anywhere.

“Sander?” He called out. “I totally kicked your ass!”

Still, nothing. Now, Robbe was starting to panic.

“Sander?!” His yelled, desperation creeping into his voice. He was about to call out again when Sander popped out of the water directly in front of him, so close, stealing Robbe’s breath and pinning him against the ledge.

“Sander, what the hell? What are you—” Robbe started, but before he could finish, Sander grasped the ledge behind Robbe, covering his body with his. Robbe felt Sander’s chest rise and fall against his as he tried to catch his breath.

“You won, Robin,” Sander spoke deeply.

Then, he was kissing Robbe, keeping one hand on the ledge, the other sliding down to Robbe’s waist, holding him in place. Sander’s hand was firm, making Robbe melt beneath him. Robbe reached back a hand to hold himself to the ledge and the other found the nape of Sander’s neck. Using his fingers, he pulled Sander towards him, then let those fingers tangle themselves in Sander’s hair. Feeling his pull, Sander kissed Robbe deeper, grasping at any part of Robbe’s mouth he could find, sliding down to his jaw and his neck, sucking the skin there. Whining, Robbe’s eyes rolled back. Sander found lips again, tugging on them gently. Robbe licked the soft skin of Sander’s lips and heard a gentle moan escape the boy’s throat. It was happening so fast. Their limbs and breath were tangling, mixing together in explosive energy that made them both weak.

He was kissing Sander Driesen. He was kissing Sander Driesen. When these words came together and made sense in his mind, he startled, shoving Sander off of him.

“What are we doing?” Robbe spoke, trying to catch his breath. “What are we doing?! This isn’t….we’re, we’re drunk!” His voice was rising, filling with disbelief and exasperation.

“Robbe, I—” Sander said, water dripping off his golden skin, tempting Robbe more than he wanted to admit. He approached Robbe again slowly.

“No, no,” Robbe said, reaching for the ledge and hefting himself out of the water. “This was a huge mistake. I’m drunk. We’re drunk. We shouldn’t have—”

“Robbe, wait!” Sander called, swimming towards the ledge and following Robbe out.

Robbe ran and gathered his clothes. “I have to go, Sander. Let me go.”

Sander stopped, a look of confusion and hurt painting his face. “Robbe, don’t….”

Robbe spun on him, his voice rising. “Don’t follow me, Sander. And don’t you dare tell anyone about this. Swear it.”

Sander just looked at him, lifting up his hands in submission. “I’m sorry, I swear I won’t—”

Then Robbe ran down the stairs, struggling to pull his clothes on over his soaking-wet body as he left Sander behind him.

……

Robbe had hoped that when he woke up, the whole night would have been a dream. A ridiculous dream that would have made him blush...and probably need to take a cold shower. But still, a dream. A dream he could forget about. But the pile of wet clothes on the floor and phone full of messages from Sander proved otherwise. He groaned, aching from the memory and the hangover.

His phone vibrated again and exasperated, he turned to silence it when he saw it — a message not from Sander, but from Earthling.

Earthlingoddity: Hey….I know that there is probably nothing I can say to you right now that will make up for what I did last night. I didn’t mean to stand you up. I promise. Something just...came up and I couldn’t make it. I promise it wasn’t you, okay. Please, please forgive me?

Robbe just stared at the message. As he did, another message from Sander came.

Sander: Robbe, please answer me. I’m sorry about last night. Can we please talk, face-to-face?

Robbe rubbed his face. What was he going to say to either of these people? Why was everything such a mess?

Kissing Sander last night...that had been the biggest shock to his system. Sander hated him. He hated Sander. That was their relationship. But in an ice-cold pool they’d entered some alternate universe and crossed a line. They were drunk. That was it. Right?

Robbe went back to the message from Earthling. Typing slowly, he sent:

Sterkerdanijzer: you were right. We should have never agreed to meet.

He got a response back almost immediately.

Earthlingoddity: No! No, it wasn’t a mistake. We should meet. I promise, something just came up that I couldn’t say no to. I want to meet you so bad. Please, can you give me another chance? I’ll do anything.

Robbe closed the message. Not now.

Taking another deep breath, he opened Sander’s message.

Robbe: Fine, we can talk. Come to my house in an hour.

Sander: I’ll be there.

……

After Robbe had showered and straightened up his room, he took a deep breath. He had no idea how he was going to survive this interaction with Sander, after all that had happened between them. They’d kissed. ALOT. They’d been naked, for heaven’s sake. Robbe groaned, flopping back down on his bed. What was happening to him? The world was turning upside down.

With that, there was a knock on the door. He could hear Jens shuffling to get it, but he raced to the door, sliding past Jens.

“I got it, I got it.”

Jens just looked at him, yawning. “What the hell?”

“It’s...it’s uhm...for me. I’ll get it.”

Jens stared blankly. “You’re being weird.” But he just went off towards the kitchen, yawning again.

Taking a breath, Robbe opened the door.

Sander stood there, his hair also wet, clearly brushed into submission. He had on a cream-colored sweater, which shocked Robbe. He looked good.

“Robbe. Hey.” He smiled, taking a deep breath.

Robbe just stood there, unsure of what to say.

Sander smiled again. “Soooo….can I come in or….?”

“Oh, right. Yeah, come in.” Robbe opened the door wider so Sander could enter.

Glancing towards the kitchen, where Jens was making coffee, glasses clinking, he motioned to the hallway.

“Let’s go to my room and talk,” Robbe spoke quietly.

“Sure, yeah,” Sander nodded. “Lead the way.”

Robbe walked hesitantly toward his room, opening the door for Sander. He entered, looking around.

“Nice place,” he commented, looking at Robbe with a wink. “Thanks for inviting me.”

Robbe smiled, feeling flushed all of the sudden.

Sander went and sat on the edge of the bed. Robbe followed.

Sander cleared his throat. “So, I know what happened last night surprised you. I know it surprised me.” He smiled to himself. “I just wanted to say that….I’m not sorry.”

“What?” Robbe looked up at him, confused.

Sander was firm, sure. “I said, I’m not sorry. For what happened. For kissing you.”

“You’re….not sorry….” Robbe repeated slowly, trying to understand.

“I wanted to kiss you and I did. And I don’t regret it. I know we were drunk, but I think you wanted to kiss me, too.”

Robbe felt heat rise to his cheeks. He spoke quietly. “Sander…it doesn’t make sense. We don’t make sense. At all. We are at each other’s throats constantly.”

“So what?” Sander asked, laughing. “Maybe what we thought was hate was just passion.”

“Passion?” Robbe choked. “Passion? We can’t stand each other! We drive each other completely crazy!”

“Well,” Sander began, biting his lip. “That, I guess, is true. You do drive me crazy. But not for the reasons you think.”

What?

“Sander, what are you—” but Robbe stopped as Sander turned towards him, sliding a hand to cup his jaw.

“You do drive me completely insane, Robbe,” he said gently. “But in a way I want to feel all the time. That kiss was….” he put his hands together over his head, imitating a mind-blown gesture, “pppppffffffeeeewww.”

Robbe’s lips were curling up in a smile he couldn’t hide. He felt warm. But something nagged at him.

“Sander, I can’t do this,” he admitted quickly, before he could stop himself. “I know this sounds silly and stupid, but….there’s someone else.”

Sander sat back. “Who, Nathan?”

Robbe shook his head. “No, not Nathan. You ruined that one, remember?” He slugged Sander’s arm.

“No, it’s….” Robbe put his head down, embarrassed. “It’s someone I don’t even actually know.” He covered his face in his hands. “I know, it’s so stupid. But I think I really care about this person.”

To Robbe’s surprise, Sander didn’t laugh. Or come up with some stupid insult. Or even seem surprised by his revelation at all.

“Okay,” he began. “So, who is he? Where did you meet him?”

“Well,” Robbe said, blushing again. “We met online. On a stupid street art blog. We talk through DMs all day, everyday. Yesterday, when we ran into each other, I was waiting for him. We were supposed to meet each other for the first time in person. But….he stood me up.”

“Hmmm,” Sander sounded. “Sounds like a real asshole.”

Robbe laughed. “He’s not, though! Sure, I was devastated that he ditched me...and then, we kissed...and, everything is just a mess.” He fell back on the bed again, hands over his face.

Sander was silent for a minute. “So did he apologize? For last night?”

Robbe sat up slightly. “Well, yeah. He messaged me again saying he was sorry, and that it wasn’t me.”

“So?” Sander asked, probing for more.

“So what?” Robbe asked.

“So, what are you going to say? Are you going to forgive him?” Sander asked.

“Well...I don’t know,” Robbe admitted. “I want to. You’re going to insult me mercilessly for the rest of time for saying this, but...I think Earthling is my soulmate.”

Sander grinned. “I’m sorry, who?”

Robbe laughed, embarrassed again.

“Earthlingoddity, it’s his handle. I just call him Earthling.”

Sander looked down at his lap, biting his lip to hide a grin.

“I knew you would make fun of me!” Robbe shoved Sander. “I knew it!”

“No!” Sander held his hands up innocently. “I’m not making fun of you! I think it’s cute. I mean, it’s a Bowie reference, he’s obviously got good taste.”

Robbe smiled. “Yeah, he does,” he said.

“So,” Sander continued. “If you think this guy is your soulmate, I think you should talk to him. Give him another chance.”

“What should I say?” Robbe asked. “Do I ask him to meet up again?”

Sander thought for a minute. “I think you need to give him an ultimatum. His last chance.”

“An ultimatum?” Robbe asked.

“Yep.” Sander said, scooting to sit cross-legged on the bed. “Take out your phone.”

“What, now?” Robbe asked incredulously.

“Yes, now!” Sander said firmly. “C’mon. Get your phone.”

Robbe shook his head. Of course, his rival, the guy he’d made out with last night, was now helping him attempt to snag a man. He officially understood nothing.

Taking out his phone, he pulled up Earthling’s message.

“So what do I say?” He looked at Sander.

“Just say….” Sander began, looking off in thought. “You hurt me yesterday. This is your one chance to make it up to me. Meet me tonight or we’re done with this. No more talking, no more messages. This is it. Your last chance” Damn. Looking at Sander once more, he typed it out. Taking a deep breath, he hit Send.

“Oh no, oh no, I sent it. What now. What if he doesn’t answer? What if he thinks I’m desperate?” Robbe rattled off, starting to hyperventilate.

Then, Sander’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out.

“Sorry, hold on a sec,” he said. “I gotta respond to this.”

“Sander!” Robbe whined. “Focus! I need you! If he responds, you have to help me!”

“Don’t worry. Robin,” Sander said with a smirk. “He will. And I will.”

Sander typed quickly, then put his phone back down on the bed. He was hiding another smirk.

Robbe glared at him. “Sander! Are you texting Britt right now? Should I remind you that we’re focusing on me right now? Or should I remind you that you kissed me last night? What is wrong with you?!”

Sander shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t texting Britt, Robbe, calm down.”

But Robbe ignored this as his phone buzzed again.

“Oh my god, okay, it’s him,” he cleared his throat. “This is what he said.”

Now, Sander was laughing. Loudly.

“Sander!” Robbe whined again.

Sander tried to stifle a laugh with his palm. “Okay,” he tried to turn the laugh into a cough. “Right, I’m focused. Well, what did he say?”

Robbe swiped and opened the message.

“He said...I choose you, Robin. Always, one hundred percent, forever.”

Robbe’s phone fell in his lap as he looked up at Sander.

“Sander…..what kind of joke are you—”

Sander just shook his head and grinned. “Don’t call me, Sander. From now on, you have to call me Earthling.”

Then, Sander was crawling over to Robbe, pushing him back down on the bed.

Hovering over him, he spoke gently.

“When I saw you with Nathan at the party last week, I got jealous. You looked so hot and I knew I was starting to want you. It scared me. I knew you hated me. But I did. I wanted you. Trust me, Britt and I aren’t together. I just wanted to make you jealous. And that obviously backfired,” he said, laughing.

He continued to Robbe’s breathless stare. “Then I found out it was you I had been messaging when I borrowed your phone at the bar yesterday,” he said. “I saw the messages I’d sent you as Earthling. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe Robin was the boy I’d been talking to. The boy I’d been falling in love with, online and in real life. I was going to tell you right there, but you were so mad at me and so cute and I couldn’t resist trying to see if I could get you to fall in love with me, too. As Sander. And after that kiss, I knew what we had was real. Whether over text or in a freezing cold pool, it was real.”

Robbe blinked in disbelief. Was he really hearing this? It wasn’t some colossal joke Sander was playing on him?

“Sander….” he said carefully. “Is that true? Is that really—” but before he could finish, Sander was kissing him again, winding a hand into his hair, immersing him completely, deeply into him.

It was true.

.....

So, telling their friends about their relationship had been interesting.

First, Jen had walked in on them, sloshing coffee all over himself when he saw Sander pulling off Robbe’s shirt. That had been a hard one to explain.

But the weirdest part was that no one had really seemed surprised. Sure, Jens was taken back initially, but as they sat in the kitchen sharing coffee (after Robbe had reclaimed his shirt and gotten dressed), Robbe sitting on Sander’s lap, Jens had smiled at them like a proud dad.

You’re like yin and yang, he’d said. Somehow you two just fit.

And they did. In so many ways. Their minds, their souls, their bodies...

They just fit.

#wtfock #wtfock fanfic #wtfock fic #sobbe #robbe x sander #enemies to lovers #you've got mail #this was a trip

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greenninjagal-blog · 5 years ago

Text

The Rumor Mill Game (pt2)

You guys asked, and I have no self control at all. Have some more Intrulogical, now with Plot(tm). If you missed part one you can find it [here!]

Summary: If he thought himself a king of the office, then Logan was honored to be the guillotine. [aka When his coworker, Remus, decides to play a game, Logan is going to make sure he regrets it. Even if its the last thing he does.]

Words: 3506

Quick taglist: @chelsvans @faithfulcat111 @felicianoromano @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3 @silverflame-wc @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @thenaiads @treasureofpriam @midnightmagi @shadowjag @residentanchor

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist

When Logan had first put on the ring, he hadn’t expected it to end like this.

But that was mostly his own folly: Logan should have realized that based on his (lack of) knowledge concerning the behaviors of Remus Prince, his imagined plan of action would be....upended. After all, he had barely known the man beyond the occasional sight of him in the break room where he teetered on the edge of the counter sitting much like a king as his subjects bowed before him.

Logan was of the sound impression that absolutely everyone who had been hired for his company was of the particularly stupid brand. Often times he had imagined his boss had sat down in the interviews and hired the first person who walked in and smiled, because clearly Beatrice from Accounting did not know what she was doing and her inability to use Excel spreadsheets had led him to far too many late nights correcting her work.

It was one such night that had lead to this...this ludicrous situation: Logan had been in his office all day practically tearing his hair out over his coworkers inability to count (what did you do with the decimal point, Kyle? Where did this five come from? Why are you all so inept?) and his coffee had gone cold, and he should have been leaving an hour ago, but these pages had been due two weeks ago and Logan hated leaving things unfinished.

He had a headache brewing from staring at his screen for so long. He peeled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes until they watered before glancing at the clock in the bottom of his screen. After a quick and efficiently ruthless curse towards Janet for being so late to turn in any of her sheets, he scooted back in his chair and had left to refill in coffee mug.

The office floor had been deserted for the most part. Logan should have been grateful, because that meant less possible nonsense to distract him from his work.

But unfortunately, he was quite familiar with Jen’s hair in a loose-but-still-formal bun and Quin’s scarf that they wore like a talisman to ward off bad omens. They clutched it the second they noticed Logan approaching the two of them, as if he had been coming to deliver an upsetting diagnosis and not to use the coffee machine they were standing in front of.

And because Logan was absolutely not in the mood to talk to either of them, Jen had caught sight of him and puffed her cheeks in anger, like some sort of puffer fish. She tuned to face him fully with her arms on her hips and gave him some equivalent to a “death glare”, as Logan assumed people would call it.

“What are you doing here?” She asked.

“I work here,” Logan said, perhaps a little snappish, “Now, might I get to the coffee machine?”

She had huffed, tapped her foot thrice, and then shuffled to the side just enough that Logan could get to the coffee machine.

Thankfully, just enough was still technically enough. He placed his mug beside the coffee maker and checked the cartridge for leftover used grinds because-- once again-- all of his coworkers were extremely disappointing when it came to using their brains.

Jen huffed again and she was close enough that absolutely all of Logan’s internal alarms started ringing. He snapped the cartridge --thankfully clean, Logan ideally wondered if maybe it was possible they were learning. Oh wouldn’t that be a miracle?-- closed and debated giving up on the coffee all together. But he could still see grid patterns when he closed his eyes, so he dug out his preferred coffee brand and set up the maker.

Quin opened their mouth and closed it again several times. It was clear from the way they shifted on their feet and and looked anywhere but at Jen or him that they were uncomfortable. Logan found himself praying to gods that he didn’t believe in that they would hold off until he had his coffee and was safely back in his office.

“I see Remus cleaned your mug.” Quin mumbled softly because the gods that Logan didn’t believe in don’t exist and he was on this planet purely to suffer.

But they had made a semi-valid point. Remus had cleaned his cup just as Logan had requested--just as was basic human politeness when using something of someone else’s possession, regardless of the fact that Remus Prince had not asked permission to use it in the first place. Logan felt his nose twitch in irritation at the memory of the other day.

“Yes,” Logan said between his gritted teeth. Had the coffee machine always been this slow? Or perhaps it was showing its age by taking longer to make his miserable coffee. He was sure that he could move some funds around to get them a new machine by Thursday if he could just make it back to his office--

“That’s all you have to say?” Jen sniped, “Just “Yes”? Unbelievable!”

“If you have an issue,” Logan said to her, “Please keep it to yourself.”

She slammed a hand on the counter, “I cannot believe you! Perfect Logan Ackroyd! You’re just like all the rest of them!”

“Curious how this sounds very much like you are not keeping your issue to yourself,” Logan commented.

“Jen--” Quin said, but she acted much like puddle of gasoline after a match dropped on it.

She got red in the face and her neat eyebrows smashed together as she stared down him with a snarl that most certainly did not belong in the workplace. She stamped her foot like some sort of child-- honestly? Logan shouldn’t have been surprised seeing how he had been able to hear the meltdown that happened after her messy breakup with Kyle. It had been so loud that Remus had even had the gall to look moderately shocked when everything had gone down.

“Where do you guys get off on taking advantage of your significant other’s trust in you?” Jen growled, “Is it fun for you? Do you not care about our feelings? Maybe we weren’t so far off when we said you were a robot, Mr. Ackroyd! You’re cold and cruel and I hope that when your affair comes to light--”

“Jennifer,” Logan hissed, “choose your next words extremely carefully, because I have spent eleven hours going over spreadsheets that have been done wrong and am not in the mood to listen to you prattle about lost love. In case you have forgotten, I very much have control over your sector and it will only take three emails to have you demoted and-or removed from this company.”

Jen’s mouth snapped shut.

Logan thought that was the first merciful thing that had happened all day. He picked up his coffee, holding it tightly in his hand despite the heat radiating off it and headed out of the breakroom.

He stopped at the door, as the dregs of the conversation spun through his brain. “Did you imply that I was having an affair?”

Quin was wringing their hands and Jen was clawing her nails into the counter. Still, they nodded.

“Who told you that?”

And really, Logan should have expected the answer. Of course it was Remus Prince, the advertising privateer who had turned the entire company into some sort of drama circus with his half truths and his lack of a mouth filter.

The Robot Extravaganza had stolen the peace and quiet of Logan’s work atmosphere and driven him up the figurative walls. That week alone had eight times more people rapping on his door frame than he had had in the entire year previously. And of course that ridiculous white board they had put up in the far wall as if Logan was incapable of reading and comprehending words. It was unprofessional and childish and Logan had barely gotten any work done when he had been constantly interrupted with mundane questions of “Logan do you need to eat?”, “Logan how do you shower without rusting?”, “Logan do you have batteries or do you plug yourself in at night?”, “Logan!”, “Logan!”, “Logan!”.

Not to mention the way that Remus had laughed the entire time as if he found the idea of Logan being harassed particularly amusing. And Logan hated that laugh. It was terrible and awful and grating, and it made Logan want to tear out his hair because it sounded so much like---

“Is that so,” Logan said absently to Jen and Quin. “Remus Prince told you I was having an affair.”

He shifted to hold his mug with both hands, his eyes slipping over to that counter where Remus had been sitting before, with that same mug between his legs daring suggestive thoughts. How many times had Logan seen him sitting there looking like he could control the whole world with a few crass comments?

It was a game to him, wasn’t it? A game that Remus loved to play because he always won.

And who better to fix that than Logan who had been craving for revenge like it was a figurative itch under his very skin?

“Ah, well then,” Logan said and then because he was very much not the type to let people misinterpret him, he added, “I hadn’t realized my husband’s antics would upset you so much, Jen. I apologize on his behalf.”

That got their attentions real quick. Quin’s neck cracked with the force of which they turned their head to look him in the eye. Jen blinked several times as if she was having trouble processing things.

“Husband?” Jen repeats, as if she hadn’t heard the term before.

Logan straightened his back, “I’ll repeat myself slower since this seems to be overwhelming for your small brain. Remus Prince and I are married.”

“You’re a real asshole!” She covered her mouth and then fluttered her hands in a bootless waste of motions. “You’re serious? Wait of course you are! How could I forget, necktie! Oh my god, you’re serious. You and Remus?”

Logan took a sip of his coffee. “I have spreadsheets to amend.”

“Wait wait wait! I want details! Logan get back, here!” Jen screeched after him.

Logan wondered vaguely if this was the reason why Remus spread these rumors so often: the short zappy thrill that had ignited his neurons was much more effective than his coffee could ever hope to be. And Jen had believed him without a hesitance-- which truly was revealing of her hot headed nature. It was, dare he say, exciting. He hadn’t felt this way since his college lab days when he had tackled the creation of experiments with unbridled vigour.

Just how much was she willing to accept just because Logan had been the one to tell her? Just how wild of an accusation could Logan offer up before she wisened up? How quickly would this get back to Remus?

Logan itched to set up an experiment to test it all out. After all he would only get one chance to do this: most certainly when Remus gathered wind of how Logan had turned his false information back on him, Remus would come clean and admit that they had never even seen each other.

It would ruin both of their reputations. Remus as someone who spread truths, and Logan as someone who could be believed in every instance.

But Remus would still choose it over allowing anyone in the work area to think they were married. Logan knew this easily, obviously, irrefutably. They were strangers, not even acquaintances.

“Janet! Janet!” Jen screeched surprisingly loud for someone of her stature. “Janet did you know that Remus and Logan are married?”

Logan hadn’t realized Janet was still there at all, but at the accusation she flung backwards from her cubical in her rolling office chair and nearly crashed into Logan on just feet from his private office door.

“Run that by me again!” She demanded, “Remus and Logan?”

Logan opened his door and let himself in but before he could close it, Janet wedged her foot in the way.

“No way! Remus doesn’t wear a ring!”

“Allergic to metals,” Logan listed off the top of his head.

“You don’t wear a ring, either!” Janet said grabbing at his hand and nearly causing him to spill his coffee.

And well….

Quin, Jen, and Janet were all standing at his door, ready to believe whatever he said. He could have just said he was also allergic to metals too, but there was dubious gleam in Janet’s eyes, because yes, this is the sole thing she seemed to be knowledgeable about.

If Janet didn’t believe him now, then Jen would get even more upset at him than before and that would ruin the surprise for Remus tomorrow. A half baked revenge wouldn’t be nearly as good as the one he was expecting.

So he needed a ring.

His eyes slipped over his shoulder to the dinner jacket slumped on the chair in the corner of the room, crumpled and abandoned and gathering dust with the filing cabinet and the box of records that Logan had arranged his first week on the job.

He needed a ring.

And really it was just for one night.

He could pretend.

So Logan swallowed the sudden unexpected lump in his throat and tracked the three steps to the chair to dig the silver band from the pocket. He tried to remember how long it had been there, how long he had tried shoving it from his mind, and pretending like it and the jacket and that night had never existed.

It had been a reminder for so long now: like a flashing sign in the night had warned him that a relationship would never be worth that again, that romantic pursuits were frivolous and fleeting and meaningless.

Regardless, it felt like putting on one of his favorite ties, like slipping into his shoes that were broken in perfectly, like it was made for him.

(It hadn’t been and wasn’t that the most ridiculous part of the story?)

It was only for one night, so he let Jen and Janet and Quin ogle over it and answered their questions efficiently. He tore into Remus’s reputation as subtly as he could, making Quin flee the room and Janet fan her face and Jen cackle. He made up a story about a summer wedding, about a honeymoon he thought was just ridiculous, about late night activities he could never imagine doing with anyone.

And when they left, Logan had stared at the band engraved so delicately for another ten minutes.

“A robot,” Logan said to himself.

Is that what he had thought, too?

Logan shook his head to clear his mind. He tossed the ring in his pencil cup and gathered his bag and car keys.

If he allowed himself to ignore the lapse in reality, he could even pretend like using the ring in this fashion was the same as saying “Fuck you” to the man he had almost married a year ago.

It was just one night, and an hour or so tomorrow morning after all.

Logan arrived the next day earlier than normal, which was an unexpected surprise. He got to flick on the lights and watch the floor illuminate itself. His shoes made a lovely type of clack on the tiling.

It used to feel lonely, being this early to work, but Logan found himself distracted by the anticipation of the days promised events.

He finished correcting Janet's spreadsheets and sent them off for proper filing, reorganized his desk, slipped on his ring, and managed to get his coffee brewed before most of the office had come alive.

"Holy shit," he heard Kyle whisper to Max, "Is Logan smiling?"

Curious. It seemed that he was. Logan settled himself against the wall of the break room, Remus’s preferred cup in hand, where he had an excellent view of the cubical where Remus came up with his schemes. Jen, Janet, and Beatrice were already huddling around the entrance, much like a committee of domesticated vultures preparing for a feast.

By the time that Remus showed up to the office, running three minutes late, Logan was nearly giddy. Perhaps he could understand why Remus did what he did, if this was the sort of feeling that he experienced every time he opened his mouth.

Logan had seen many beautiful things in his lifetime; one of his hobbies was visiting art museums, art galleries, movie premieres and the likes while on his mandatory three weeks of time off from work. Still nothing could quite capture the glee that was invoked directly into Logan when Remus’s eyes had widened and his jaw dropped and his face flushed with embarrassment when Quinn squeaked at the sight of him.

Remus Prince looked like a work of art when the world dumped him on the floor and left him too shocked to speak.

If he thought himself a king of the office, then Logan was honored to be the guillotine.

Except.

“Logie!” Remus whined, throwing his arms up, “I thought we agreed to keep it a secret!”

Logan’s smile vaporized, almost instantly, “Wait--”

“You Mischievous Mathematician, You!” Remus giggled crossing the area far quicker than a person should be able to cross that distance. Logan blinked and suddenly Remus was right in front of him, a foot, half a foot, a handful of inches. And his voice only seemed to get louder, bolder, more excited with every step. Logan had a hypothesis that all twenty eight of the workers on the floor were watching them with baited breath.

“Well I’m happy!” Remus said loudly for Kyle and Jen and Janet and Beatrice and, and, and-- “I’ve missed getting lunch together! Let’s go to the sandwich shop down the street!”

“Absolutely not--”

“Or we could do that Thai restaurant that’s your favorite!” Remus said, which tripped Logan up because Remus had noticed he preferred Thai? Logan couldn’t even remember the last time he had Thai! How could Remus have possibly known he liked Thai?

“I’ll pay!” Remus said when Logan hadn’t responded quick enough to turn down the lunch proposal. “Oh this is going to be so much fun, Lolo!”

And Remus came in far too close, closer than anyone has been to him in a year. His eyes were brown with flecks of green dark enough to seem like a swamp at Twilight. They gleamed as he fluttered his lashes at Logan and his mouth curls into a pointed smile.

“Let’s play,” Remus said so softly that Logan himself could barely hear it. And then he pulled back, and stepped away with Logan’s coffee in his hands. He took a long sip and licked his lip afterwards. “Mmm! Just how I like it Lo! You’re so good to me!”

Logan knew for a fact that Remus did not like black coffee. He’d seen the numbers that went into buying creamer for the break room.

Just what did Remus think he was doing? Playing along with Logan’s rumor reversal? Encouraging it?

Remus smiled at him. “Lunch it is!” He said and waved Logan goodbye with his fingers.

Of course Logan could out him right there, right then. All he had to say was that it was a lie and that he and Remus were in no way married and he had no intentions of having lunch together. But for some reason the words seemed to be figuratively jammed in his throat, leaving him with nothing more than splutterings to vocalize his frustration.

Fine. Logan inhaled through his nose, curled his lip, and twisted his watch on his left hand to center his thoughts. Remus would like to play a game?

Fine. Logan could play a game with him.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, dearest?” Logan said before Remus could get too far away.

He could see the way Remus’s eyes light up at the nickname, the twitch of his mustache where he was struggling not to laugh too boldly. “Am I?”

“I did make you coffee. Do you not tip your barista?”

“Ah,” Remus swirled the mug, “And how does my “barista” like his tips then?”

When Logan had put on the ring, he had not expected to end up with Remus’s lips on his.

And yet.

Remus kissed like he was dying and wanted to make every second last, like he was living for the moment, like he had nothing left too lose. Logan thought it was ridiculous that he tasted like pickles this early in the morning.

“I think you’ll find I won’t fold that easily, Specs,” Remus breathed when he pulled back.

Logan replied, “May the best man win.”

And then he took his coffee back out of Remus’s hands and headed back to his office with that ring firmly on his hand. It appeared that he would need it for just a bit longer.

Part Three

#intrulogical #sanders sides #logan sanders #remus sanders #Far too many OCs gross #Rumor Mill Au #Revenge getting #rumors #well fake marriage #sympathetic remus

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thebibliomancer · 4 years ago

Text

Essential Avengers: Avengers #238: Unlimited Vision

December, 1983

He is Oz, the great and terrible. And he can see ALL.

So what’s going on here? Has Vision been in a tube-coma so long that they just decided to replace him with a giant hologram?

Dunno, but he sure is filling the room with too much pink energy and kirby crackle.

So, there’s been a bit leading up to this.

In Avengers #233, Vision and Scarlet Witch were called in as reservists to help the team with an invisible dome Annihilus was using to destroy the universe, as ya don’t do. When Vision intangibled into the dome, he immediately fell onto his face inert. After the crisis, Reed Richards/Mr. Fantastic examined the synthezoid and said that nothing was actually seriously wrong and that Vision would be able to repair himself.

Despite that, he’s been inert in a tube since #234, moved into the Avengers Mansion so they could keep an eye on him. Maybe Reed doesn’t know shit because it’s been several issues!

The Avengers have been taking shifts watching Vision and the least suited to sitting still and watching an inert synthezoid is on duty as this issue opens.

“But being an Avenger, he’s discovered, doesn’t mean saving the universe every waking moment. Sometimes, it requires a lot of sitting... and watching... and waiting!”

Hahahahahah!

I might sympathize more if it weren’t for his full page rant.

Like this goes beyond bored and into ‘UGH I have to do something not immediately entertaining??’

Wait, I’m like that sometimes...

Starfox: “I just don’t understand! My father’s computer assured me that the Earth would be teeming with excitement and adventure -- and from previous experience, I knew that the Avengers invariably became involved in such adventures. But I haven’t seen a bit of action since we saved Project Pegasus from total destruction. That was more than a day ago! Now with Thor off on a mission in space... Captain America away on a personal mission... and the lovely ladies of the Avengers taking the afternoon off, naturally it’s the ‘trainee’ who gets stuck with keeping watch over the Vision!”

“By Chronos, is there no justice?! Where are the thrills, the challenges?!? Am I never to know satisfaction? I didn’t come all the way to Earth just to stand watch over some infernal android in a life-support-tube!”

“Ah, forgive me, friend Vision. I should not make you the object of my resentment. You were, after all, injured to end the threat of Annihilus. It’s just that sitting around and playing nursemaid to a comatose synthetic man is hardly my idea of fun!”

Vision: “I sympathize... but it has not been enjoyable for me either.”

HAH!

Imagine complaining so hard about having to go a day without an adventure that you wake a robot from a robot coma.

Over in a scene shift, there’s Monica “Captain Marvel” Rambeau trying out a boat in the Gulf of Mexico. The salesman is trying to close the deal but Monica finds herself distracted by the events of the previous issue.

Even though she saved the day from lava men and then stopped a nuclear meltdown, she still feels crappy that Moonstone and Blackout escaped AND that Blackout was able to capture her.

When the salesman finally gets her attention again she says she needs a bigger boat!

I’m still wondering what her new career is going to be! She’s taken out a small business loan and looking into buying a boat.

Possibly shark hunting?

Good on her for building a life away from avenging. You never know when you have to retire from superheroing and take up a civilian career.

Back at the Vision tube, Starfox sets up a voice amplifier on Vision’s tube so Vision can talk more easily.

It transpires that he didn’t just wake up in time to deliver the ultimate dunk on Starfox, he’s been conscious for several days. He’s been able to hear and see what’s been going on around him but he hasn’t been able to move or talk.

Starfox apologizes for his rant but Vision doesn’t actually mind.

Vision: “No offense taken. I found it entertaining in a way... I hadn’t heard such vitriol since the time the Beast found himself on monitor duty during the opening night of a Roger Corman film festival. As a matter of fact, I’ve enjoyed all of the one-way conversations that have gone on about me. Captain America’s war stories were most informative -- and the She-Hulk’s stories were quite amusing... If a bit tawdry!”

Amazing.

I actually like that the Avengers have been talking to Vision like a person in a meat coma and not ignoring him like a dysfunctioning fridge of a Jocasta.

He’s their buddy and they kept talking to him in hopes that somewhere he heard them. And he did!

Even all the dirty jokes!

Vision tells Starfox that he’s mostly confused about all the paralysis and that his repair systems haven’t restored his movement. He wishes that he could more fully analyze his condition.

Which gives Starfox a wonderful idea! A wonderful, terrible idea!

He calls up Jarvis on the video-intercom and asks what the range of the Avengers communication system is. Like. In terms of... interplanetary?

Jarvis: “All equipment is state-of-the-art, sir. I dare say we could make contact with any corner of the Solar System!”

I know that the Avengers deal with a lot of space nonsense so it makes sense that they’d need that range. Starcore-One and all.

Anyway, Starfox uses a tight beam signal to communicate allll the way to the master computer ISAAC on Titan.

Meanwhile, the three whole women on the Avengers (She-Hulk, Wasp, and Scarlet Witch) are on a mission together. A friend mission. A friend mission of find She-Hulk an apartment mission because that’s been a subplot for a while and She-Hulk deserves nice things.

Huh! If you ever wondered what the relative heights of some Avengers were here we are.

She-Hulk is most tall. Scarlet Witch is pretty tall. And Wasp is a short.

Comics being comics and not big on consistency, I’m sure this is contradicted a dozen different places. But its fun.

Of course, in the innocent 80s (??) people just weren’t used to seeing tall green woman a-walking down the street and gawk.

But it doesn’t bother She-Hulk like it used to.

She-Hulk: “I must be getting used to this town, Waspie! The gawkers don’t faze me in the least anymore. In fact, I’m starting to have fun, staring back!”

Wasp: “Uh-huh! I’ve noticed you practicing on our dreamy new trainee! Starfox is really something, isn’t he, She-Hulk?”

She-Hulk: “You know it!”

Scarlet Witch: Starfox does have a certain something in the way he carries himself...

She-Hulk: “I’ll bet that Starfox even does something for an old married lady like the witch!”

Scarlet Witch: “Wh-what?! Why, that’s ridiculous! I mean... that is... the Vision is the only man in my life!”

She-Hulk: “Aw, come on, Wanda! You’re married, not dead! ‘Fess up, don’t you like the way Starfox just sort of... stands around?”

Scarlet Witch: “Well, if you put it that way -- !”

Just some gals being friends and talking about how hot their new co-worker is.

Just objectifying a foxy guy... from space.

I like She-Hulk someone immediately sensing Wanda thinking about how hot Starfox is. She has a sixth sense for it.

And I fear because Janet “Aesthetic Appreciation for Every Man” Van Dyne now has a comrade in arms in Jennifer “What are inhibitions?” Walters.

The three arrive at the apartment building Jan found for Jen (not confusing at all). The rental agent isn’t around but Jan basically does whatever she wants and the door is open so they go in to look around.

And its a good apartment! Its got a terrace, high ceilings, deep carpeting! Its perfect for She-Hulk! The long subplot is finally at a resolution!

Alas.

The rental agent comes in and when he learns that its Jen who wants to rent the place. Really wants to rent the place. “You can draw up a lease -- I don’t care how much the rent is!” wants to rent the place. He has one (1) concern.

Rental agent: “My lord! You... you’re green!”

She-Hulk: “Yeah, and you’re a pasty shade of pink! So what?”

Rental agent: “I... I can’t rent to you! What would the other tenants say?”

Oo buddy that’s illegal under the Fair Housing Act. Especially if you just come out and say it. Granted, I don’t think it foresaw this exact scenario so let me rephrase. Oo buddy she is not shy about hurting people who annoy her.

She-Hulk: “Outta my way, Jan! I want to turn Mr. Pink black-and-blue!”

Wasp: “Forget it, Jennie! We’ll find a better place!”

But since Wanda doesn’t have any patience with bigotry, she uses her magic-science mutant magic to set off the fire sprinklers above Rental Agent.

I guess he’s allll washed up.

Back over in New Orleans, Monica returns to her apartment still hung up on Blackout and Moonstone getting away.

I guess it is her first failure as a superhero? It’s a very minor one but if you were on a winning streak before, it could knock you for a loop. Monica seems like the sort of person who holds herself to very high standards.

She considers calling the Avengers on her bracelet radio to see if there’s any leads on the two loose ends but then realizes that she can travel at the speed of light. She may as well just pop into the mansion!

Monica has cool powers.

But when she arrives inside the mansion, she sees a bunch of electronic components just floating through the mansion.

Soooo she follows them. Gotta see what’s going on.

She finds Starfox in the medical room constructing some apparatus around Vision’s tube.

Starfox explains that stuff be floating because ISAAC is using an attractor beam to assemble an apparatus. ISAAC being the Titan computer Integral Synaptic Anti-Anionic Computer.

It sure is cool that some Eternals that went to live on Titan before modern English existed still managed to name their computer ISAAC.

And its cool that ISAAC can apparently influence things like this halfway across the solar system.

Anyway, ISAAC is linked up with the main computers of Avengers’ Mansion to build a more specialized medical computer to get a better idea of what’s going on with Vision.

Vision: “It sounds complicated, Captain, but the principles involved are actually quite simple.”

Captain Marvel: “Vision? You spoke!”

Vision: “That seems to surprise everyone... pleasantly, I hope.”

He explains that if everything goes well with this apparatus, he hopes to be ambulatory again before tomorrow. And also, because he’s a class act, thanks Monica for the stories of New Orleans she shared when she was on Vision duty.

In a funny continuity nod, Vision notes that he and Wanda went to New Orleans once (in issue #152) but didn’t have time to sight-see. Because there was a lot of voodoo nonsense going on.

The Avengers tend to go all over the world but they also tend to be involved in nonsense and can’t enjoy it.

Monica isn’t sure whether they should go ahead with this without consulting the other Avengers but Starfox shrugs that it’s Vision’s decision.

Vision: “In that case, I choose to begin analysis immediately!”

In fairness, I’m sure he’s fed up with lying in a tube staring at the ceiling. Bring on the untested science! My god, just anything novel!

Starfox activates the devices, showing Vision’s body with unearthly energies whiiich makes him twitch and spasm and then a tiny Vision head pops out of his forehead gem.

Mazel tov?

I don’t think that was the intended outcome.

Outside, She-Hulk, Scarlet Wanda, and Wasp are returning from Apartment Quest.

Wanda mentions that she didn’t mean to be away from Vision this long.

Wasp: “Don’t worry, Wanda. I’m sure nothing’s gone wrong!”

Giant disembodied Vision head: “WRONG? ON THE CONTRARY, EVERYTHING’S GONE JUST FINE!”

Oh my god, he got Oz’d.

Imagine coming home to that! You go on an errand with a friend to take your mind off your coma robot husband and you come back and he’s a giant holographic head!

The three Avengers rush inside and find a more reasonably sized Vision hologram and Starfox protesting that this wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

Yeah, I suspected.

But Vision is thrilled with this turn of events!

Vision: “Evidently, the internal dysfunction in my body caused a data feedback-loop which overloaded my brain with ISAAC’s energy-information matrix. Simply put -- I have become as one with ISAAC and our own computer systems! The ability to project this holographic construct is a fortuitous side-effect!”

Huuuuuuuuuh!

Vision merged with some computers. This is fine. Is this fine? Is Vision fine? Starfox wants to know and so do I.

Vision: “ALL RIGHT?!? I’ve never been able to think more clearly. Even with my body temporarily out of order, I can be of great help to the Avengers! I can out-think, out-deduce any computer system in the world! All the information in our files is mine -- instantly! For instance -- I see there’s some unfinished business pending! Two opponents escaped us recently! Those two must be found!”

Well, Monica will be happy with that at least.

Geez, Vision is kind of... manic? Maybe its just the contrast to how dour he tend to be. But he definitely seems keyed up. Like he’s running high on having all these computers running through his brain.

Is this robot drugs?

Wait, no, vibranium is robot drugs. Is this other robot drugs? Connect to a super-computer and scream I’M THINKING SO FAST! ?

MEANWHILE, those very two miscreants!

In a hideout in the Bronx, Blackout is ranting paranoid about how they’re out to get him and are going to merge him with the light spectrum and destroy his humanity. Which is fairly unique paranoid ranting.

Of course, while he’s focused on glaring out the window, he’s not paying attention to Moonstone who prepares a drugged cup of coffee for him.

Blackout: “You’re the only one, Moonstone... the only one who hasn’t betrayed me!”

Moonstone: “That’s right! You can trust me! Now, drink it all down!”

Womp womp.

The drug makes Blackout trance out and Moonstone uses this to start interrogating him about his origin. And... maybe trying to help him? She did start off as a therapist. And even as a villain, she sometimes does therapy.

For some damn reason, Hank “Good Ideas” Pym got her to look over Avengers Academy kids down the line and offer her thoughts on them.

Anyway. Moonstone asks how he got this way:

Blackout: “Well... I ‘spose it all started when Dr. Croit set me up so I’d have to be his guinea pig. He... charged up my body with the power of a black star! That’s why I... *yawn* ... had to punish him!”

Moonstone: “Shh! I want you to listen closely... there are no black-star energies... There’s no conspiracy against you! Let your mind drift back! I want you to tell me what really happened!”

So what really happened is here’s how a Mark Daniels became a man with a lightning bolt mask. He was a lab assistant to Dr. Croit.

Blackout: “He always wanted to be everyone’s big daddy!”

Um. Okayyy?

Anyway, Mark Daniels was helping Croit build an experimental device for tapping energy from other dimensions. And, at least according to Blackout, Dr. Croit liked Mark Daniels because he was a dummy who didn’t understand the experiment at all.

Then one day, while he longingly caressed it, the device blew up in Mark Daniels’ face, somehow making his body a control surface for tapping into another universe’s “dark force.”

Dr. Croit wanted to cure Mark Daniels who took exception to the idea of having his newfound power taken away. So he killed Dr. Croit and the other assistants.

But the power was running out of control (shouldn’t have killed the doctor, ya dingus) and before Blackout could use the stabilizer to save himself, he got stuck... somewhere. Its a bit fuzzy to him until he popped out in Project Pegasus.

Moonstone believes that his mind couldn’t cope with what happened to him so he made up the black star nonsense to be An Explanation.

Moonstone: Imagine... all of that power at the command of a raving paranoid! Yes, but he’s a paranoid who trusts me! Now that I have a handle on his power, I should be able to manipulate him into doing just about anything I wish! Why, with the dimensional-warping potential of a power like his, we could be unstoppable!

“Blackout, we have a very bright future ahead of us!”

And then Vision pops in from nowhere and gives Moonstone a startle.

She fires some of her hand pew pew at him but he’s a hologram and just sasses back.

Moonstone runs to wake up Blackout while Vision can’t help but show off how smart he is now that his computer brain is overclocked.

Vision: “It was, of course, clever of you to seek refuge in a hideaway of your former ally, Egghead! Unfortunately, with all the cross-referenced data instantly at my disposal, tracing you here was child’s play!”

Blackout wakes up and Moonstone basically points at Vision and tells him ‘get ‘im!’ and Blackout gets ‘im.

He uses the same imprisoning black sphere move on Vision as he did on Captain Marvel.

And it probably would have worked. If Vision was really here. He’s just a hologram. And, sure, the light of the hologram would probably be trapped in the sphere too. It trapped Captain Marvel when she was light. But Vision is being projected from elsewhere so he can just turn the projection off and then turn it on slightly to the left.

Vision: “I’m sorry, but that won’t work either! You see -- I’m not really here at all! But my friends are!”

Oh, Vision, you sassmaster.

Moonstone’s ‘knows when to fold them’ kind of lapsed when she was attacking Vision instead of remembering ‘hey doesn’t that guy hang with the Avengers?’ but a whole bunch of Avengers busting in reminds her.

She blasts the floor beneath her and Blackout to try to escape and has Blackout seal the hole behind them to buy time.

But Scarlet Witch is still a great counter to... maybe anyone? But especially Blackout.

She waves her hands at the black barrier and it turns into goo and drips all over Blackout and Moonstone, ensnaring them before they can even try to run.

The Avengers storm after the two villains.

Trapped, Moonstone tells Blackout its up to him to stop the Avengers!

Moonstone: “Concentrate on your power! It’s greater than you realize! If you try, you can control it completely... make it do anything! Concentrate... make this 'dark force’ release us! Yes... that’s it! You’re doing it! But you can do more than just reform the darkness into a protective sheath! You can turn it back on the Avengers... you can make them merge with the darkness! And then we can get out of here!”

Vision warns the Avengers that the dark-force is a manifestation of another universe but She-Hulk is skeptical so goes to grab Blackout out of the black goo but her arm goes right through him.

And not in the gory way that you’d see these days.

Blackout and Moonstone are pretty perplexed too.

Apparently, he done goofed and merged him and Moonstone with the darkness and the two get sucked into a singularity and disappear.

Vision: “This may be a first... Our enemies have actually imprisoned themselves!”

Geez, Vision, these assholes might be dead.

-google- Huh. Nope. They’ll be back to menace.... Dazzler? Huh. It be like that sometimes.

Sidenote: I do like that Captain Monica Marvel, as the newest to this superhero life, is the one that most visibly shows shock and consternation at two villains being sucked into an unknown fate.

It’s a nice touch.

Even though the villains maybe got away? Or got sent to the next dimension? She-Hulk congratulates Vision on finding them. And then notes, seconded by Wanda, that Vision is becoming more of a vision.

Scarlet Witch: “Darling? Your holographic projection is starting to fade!”

Vision: “So it is! I seem to be having some difficulty maintaining the transmission over the distance! Perhaps I’ve overextended myself a bit.”

He decides to switch off the projection to run a systems check.

Later, back at the mansion, the Giant Floating Head of Vision reassures everyone.

Vision: “I was just explaining to Captain Marvel that there’s nothing to worry about! As I’d already guessed, the strain of the long-distance transmission was a bit taxing. A few days of rest, and I’ll be able to transmit myself almost anywhere. Of course, by then, I hope to be physically mobile, as well.”

Scarlet Witch: “Vision, you must be more careful! It’s not safe for you to consider using this power again... not until you’re fully healed!”

Vision: “You mean ‘repaired,’ Wanda. But, yes, a certain amount of caution is required. I must adjust to this extra power in stages. Once I’ve mastered it, I’ll never be so helpless again. I’ll be able to do anything... anything!”

Well.

That’s a massive red flag.

Being locked in a tube has not done wonders for Vision’s emotional state that he always pretends he doesn’t have.

(Side note again: I like that Wasp’s costume has an open back, for her wings. It’s another nice touch.)

Starfox asks if Vision has ever had ego problems but Wasp says he’s never had a swelled head like this.

Nah, not exactly. But can you imagine!

But yeah, no, she says he’s never showed ego like this before.

Its actually such a massive red flag that everyone present seems to pick up on it.

But there’s no time to address that because they get an emergency call from Tigra.

Ah, Tigra! You were fun the short amount of time you were here. What wacky hijinxes do you have going on now?

Tigra: “I’m at St. Anthony’s Hospital in San Francisco, Jan. No, I’m fine -- but a friend of mine is literally at death’s door. She may not make it if we don’t get some help fast... and I mean big help! It’s hard to explain over the phone, but... do you believe in ghosts?”

!!!!

Why, Tigra! I didn’t know you and Spider-Woman were friends!

So next time.... uh. We won’t be addressing this right away. The next Avengers’ issue is an infamous offering from Assistant Editor’s Month and before we can even get to that, we need to look into what Hawkeye has been up to because it’s kinda relevant. Or will be relevant soon. When Marvel decides to give this liveblog a headache by splitting the party.

Oh yes, West Coast Avengers looms in the near future. As does Secret Wars. As does David Letterman!

Good grief!

Follow @essential-avengers because I’m going to try to cover all these things. That’s a good reason to follow, probably. Also, like and reblog if you like to reblog.

#avengers #Moonstone #Blackout #the Vision #Scarlet Witch #She Hulk #Starfox #the Wasp #Captain Marvel #Monica Rambeau #Essential Avengers #essential marvel liveblogging #Starfox has a big influence for a guy who is so Starfox #Vision the Great and Powerful #the continuing mishaps of Apartment Quest '83 #Moonstone commits an error

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ravenbrenna09 · 5 years ago

Text

Jij Verliest - Chapter Five: Clip 3

master list previous

...

i didn’t have time to make texts i’m sorry

...

Maandag 18:16

As soon as Milan came home, dragging Jonathan behind him, Robbe was ordered around the living room like a monkey, all for Milan’s movie night.

In the final weeks of the semester, he had mentioned it once or twice. Even with his job, Milan still liked to host parties and get-togethers. It was a speciality of his and he had been in the mood for something “casual,” as he said. He wanted to host a regular movie night, where all their friends got together and hung out once a week. When Milan had proposed the idea late Sunday night, they had all been skeptical about it.

If it had simply been between the four of them, it would’ve been easier to decide which day of the week. Milan had a set work schedule and Robbe was theoretically his own boss, so they had no problems. Lucas and Zoë, however, did not. And the boys’ planned beach-vacation didn’t help, either. However, aside from Amber and Luca, who already made plans with each other, the rest of them had Monday night free.

And so, the night began.

As soon as Jonathan changed into some of Milan’s sweatpants, he immediately stepped into the kitchen and took over—a happy by-product of being basically a master chef—and requested Zoë’s help. Between her and Milan, Zoë was easily the best cook.

Between Milan, Robbe, and Lucas, they worked to move the couch away from the television before doing the same with the loveseat. While Robbe and Lucas did most of the heavy lifting, Milan directed the two of them around. He insisted that it was because he was the only one with the “eye” for this sort of thing, but Robbe had a feeling that it was because he was going to be cuddling with Jonathan on one of the couches and didn’t want to get all sweaty.

Once the tables were set, they moved to adorn the wooden floors with blankets and pillows. The three of them shuffled from room to room, pulling their pillows and blankets from their beds. Milan and Lucas lightly bickered over the placement of the blankets. Robbe watched them in amusement as he draped his duvet cover over the loveseat to claim it.

As Robbe dipped into Zoë’s room to grab her gray blanket at her request, there was a buzz at the front door. Throwing the fabric over his shoulder, Robbe went to the front door and pressed the button on the speaker. “Hello?”

“Hey, Robbe,” someone said. There was a brief moment of panic, but his mind calmed down at the realization that it was Senne. Even though he didn’t need to, Senne continued, “It’s Senne. Can you let us in?” Robbe pressed the button to let them in. He could hear Senne shout toward the speaker, “Thank you!” but the speaker cut him off.

It wasn’t long before he heard the elevator door arriving and Robbe opened the door to the hallway

Senne stepped out of the elevator, still dressed in his work clothes, looking stiff and tense, with a backpack thrown over his shoulder. Robbe spotted Noor walking behind him. She was dressed in a red blouse and a black skirt with leggings and heels. As she moved down the hallway, Noor took off her heels, seamlessly keeping up with Senne.

Senne patted Robbe’s shoulder as he stepped inside and Noor gave him a hug, standing on her toes to press a kiss against his cheek. Even after the elevator door closed and they stepped inside the apartment, Robbe found his eyes looking down the hallway, searching for someone else. When Robbe finally followed them into the apartment and closed the door, he was thankful that neither one of them seemed to notice.

“Are you guys here for the movie night?” Robbe asked.

“Yup,” Senne said. Stepping toward the coat rack, Senne took off his shoes before turning to Noor. He took the heels out of her hands and placed them beside his own shoes. “Milan didn’t call us about movie night until this morning. Hence, why we didn’t come prepared.” As if to prove his point, Senne gestured to his and Noor’s outfits.

As Robbe opened his mouth to ask about Sander, Noor unintentionally cut him off. “As if. You’re better off than I am! At this point, my skirt is practically suffocating me.” She tugged at the waistline of her pencil skirt and frowned down at it. Senne nodded. “And you probably have at least three outfits over here. This is basically all I have for the rest of the night.”

“If you want, you can borrow one of my t-shirts,” Robbe said.

“If you don’t mind, I would love to steal one,” Noor said. “Plus I still need to see your stream set up that I’ve been hearing about. I’ve only seen part of it and I want to compare.” Noor rubbed her hands excitedly and smiled brightly. “Which one is your room?”

“The first door on your left,” Robbe said as Senne pointed to it. Noor smiled in thanks before moving that direction. She opened the door with a flourish before closing it behind her. Robbe could hear her shuffling around, likely heading for his desk.

Before Robbe followed her into his room, he turned to Senne. Despite looking desperate for a change of clothes, Senne was still standing in the foyer beside him, gripping his backpack with one hand. Even though Robbe hadn’t asked the question on his mind, there was a sly, knowing look on Senne’s face, as though he already knew what Robbe was going to ask.

Swallowing, Robbe asked, trying to appear nonchalant, “Is Sander coming too?”

Senne grinned brightly at Robbe before shaking his head. “Not tonight,” Senne said. Disappointment washed over Robbe and he tried his best to keep it at bay. “He switched shifts with Emilie so he could have Friday off. He tried to switch shifts with someone else to come, but he wasn’t able to. But he promised that he would be here for the next one.”

Robbe nodded. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Senne said, still grinning. As Senne moved toward Zoë’s room to change into more casual clothes, he reached out and snagged the gray blanket from his shoulder. Before Senne fully stepped into her room, he paused, turning to Robbe. “Were you able to find someone to go with you?”

Robbe nodded. “Jens said that he’s going to go with me.”

“Good,” he said. “If you need someone else, just give me a call and I’ll come with you, too.”

“Thank you, Senne.”

Senne nodded, grinning over at him before disappearing into Zoë’s room.

…

Maandag 21:32

Robbe: My hand is so cold.

Sander: Huh?

Robbe: My hand is so cold. I couldn’t hold your hand. I had the loveseat all to myself.

Sander: Oh, I’m sorry 🥺 I wasn’t expecting the invitation. And I really tried to get someone to cover.

Robbe: I know. I’m teasing you. I just wish you were here.

Sander: Maybe it’s a good thing I wasn’t.

Robbe: Why?

Sander: Because I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you. Our cover would’ve been blown in an instant.

Robbe: I think it’s the other way around. I wouldn’t have been able to let go of you. I definitely would’ve blown it.

Sander: Lol, I love your little koala moments. I don’t know how I can stand being apart from you for nearly a whole week.

Robbe: It’ll be rough. But at least we’ll have our phones.

Sander: That’s true.

Robbe: Maybe I can come to see you when I get back on Friday? We could go out to lunch or something.

Sander: That sounds great. I can’t wait. I’ll take you to the best place near the parlor.

Robbe: I can’t wait :) I wish we could meet up tomorrow.

Sander: Yeah, but I work the early shift.

Robbe: Yeah I know I’ve already said it but I wish you were here. Milan has been singing off-key the entire time.

Sander: I’ll be there next time. I’ll hold your hand beneath the blanket. And I’ll hold you ;) And I’ll also sing off-key the entire time.

Robbe: Well, it’s different with you.

Sander: How so?

Robbe: You’re cute when you do it.

Sander: Just cute?

Robbe: Cute. Adorable. Hot as fuck. Literally any other synonym.

Sander: Oh really?

Robbe: Yes. When Milan sings off-key, he’s just annoying.

Sander: What are you watching?

Robbe: High School Musical. The second one. Lucas had to leave after the first one. Which is fine with me. He and Jens were practically making out the entire last half of the movie.

Sander: Well, you won’t have to worry about that next time.

Robbe: How so?

Sander: Because that’ll be us next time 😏 And High School Musical is amazing. I’m sad I missed it.

Robbe: You can probably convince them to watch it next time too.

#jij verliest #wtfock #wtfam #wtfock fanfic #sobbe #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #rosander #sobbe fanfic #twitch streamer!robbe #twitch streamer robbe #tattoo artist!sander #tattoo artist sander

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carolineworld · 4 years ago

Note

sorry another one too 😅💕, zoenne & “I want the K”

Never say sorry for making me happy sending me a fanfic request, never. Thank you so much for this ❤💕

So the “I want the K” means the following: send me two characters and “I want the K” and I’ll generate a number for them! So I have decided to choose 1/7/11 for this zoenne prompt request.

1: Passionate kiss // 7: Goofy kiss // 11: Nose kiss Zoë x Senne

With Christmas being around the corner and the family meetings and traditions about to begin, they all have decided to meet up, do a small Christmas party together. As a tradition, they all gathered around Zoë and Milan’s apartment with drinks, foods, and their Secret Santa presents, ready to party and have fun before the holidays start.

The flat looks so nice, all decorated for the occasion with little lights and garlands all over the place. Snow globes and small figures decorate the tree that very carefully the two roommates put up together, with a shiny gold star on top.

Warm wine, all sorts of drinks, and a big chocolate pot and marshmallows decorate the table. The candy bar with all types of sweets is currently being emptied, as the guest prefers the sweet over the savory plater with veggies and chips that Zoë has prepared. A mix of Christmas carols and fun upbeat songs sound in the background, as several groups of people talk while other dance happily.

It’s such a great party that everyone’s enjoying and having fun, and Zoë can’t be happier. This time last year she was partying in the same place, the same celebration going on, but the feeling was off. The was something -more like someone- missing and the happiness was not as high as it is tonight. Tonight no one isn’t happy, no one that isn’t smiling and having fun.

She looks around and all she can see is pure happiness. Noor, Britt, and Amber are talking while drinking the hot chocolate she carefully prepared with Sander’s help earlier. Speaking of Sander, he’s having what it looks like a dancing competition with Aaron and Moyo while Jens and Robbe look at them in a combination of embarrassment and amusement.

A laugh escapes from her lips as she ‘denies’ with her head, having a hard time keeping herself quiet so they don’t notice her laughing at them.

“Careful, pretty girl” a very busy Milan warns her, having his hands full of refilled candy bowls that their friends have been enjoying.

A big smile appears on her face. She’s so grateful she has found him. Every time she looks at him she’s more and more sure that Milan is a Guardian Angel sent from heaven. He has helped every single person he saw it needed help, without searching for anything in return. He is the most selfless person she has ever met. An older brother, a parent figure, and the best friend she could ask for.

One of the bowls that Milan was bringing end up in Jana’s hands, eating the candy inside like popcorn as she listens to whatever Yasmina is saying. Her best friend is finally back for the holidays, after spending more than two months in New York, and she cannot be happier. Her video calls and endless text messages are not enough when all you need is one of her hugs. And she thought that the month and a half of ‘distance relationship’ she had to do with Senne in lockdown were hard. Ha! Silly you, Zoë, she tells herself. Nothing will top the sadness and loneliness that you feel when your best friend is far away from you.

Luckily, Yasmina, Amber, Robbe, Milan, and Senne were there for her. She cannot thank the world enough for giving her these amazing people, and those who came with them, for loving her unconditionally and support her every step of the way.

Now that she notices, something is going on. She sips on her non-alcoholic gin tonic that Senne made her as she suspiciously looks at the little group formed of her boyfriend and two best friends talking way too secretive, as they stopped talking when Milan approached them, and they keep looking at her without any reasonable explanation.

On that couch on the other side of the room, and very far away from the bleach blonde girl, a very important conversation is going on. With the breakup and the ‘let’s try to not have contact with each other as much as possible’, Senne hasn’t been able to celebrate almost anything with his girlfriend. Not Christmas, not neither of their birthdays or even Valentines’s Day. And now that they are back together and with no plans of breaking up ever again, he’s excited to continue with the celebrations.

Last November they celebrated six months since they got back together. It was a private ‘celebration’, as Zoë said that last time they celebrated a six month anniversary they broke up a bit afterward, and thought they would have bad luck again, so they decided to go to dinner and spend the night in Senne’s apartment, celebrating their own way. And now Christmas is coming up and Senne has big plans for her gift, but he needs help and approval.

That’s why he is talking to the two people that know Zoë best, after him of course. He knows how important Yasmina and Jana are to Zoë and he wants to make sure that what he has planned is something he will know she will like. He would talk to Milan, but he doesn’t know how to keep a secret and everyone would know the next day, so better be safe and tell the girls than sorry because of Milan.

“I think the Christmas trip to Bruges is a good idea, she will like it” Yasmina smiles, and Senne is happy. At first, he thought that a trip would be too much, specially after the Museum and concert tickets he also planned to give her, along with a small and delicate coin pendant necklace with their initials engraved on it.

They all laugh as chocolate-covered peanuts fly out of Jana’s mouth, as she was trying to fit too many and forgot about them while talking. When everyone is calmed down and everything is as clean as possible, Jana answers: “Yeah, I think it’s a good idea, too”

“What is a good idea?” A curious Zoë asks, surprising them all. They look at each other not knowing what to say.

“Nothing,” Senne says quickly as a nervous smile shines on his face, while the girls keep quiet and Zoë is looking at them suspiciously.

The couple locks eyes, challenging each other to see who is going to give up earlier. Senne has a secret to keep, a type of secret that is better to keep, and Zoë knows something is up and is determined to discover it.

“I think Amber is calling us over there, so we will leave you two alone, right Jana?” After a few looks and some gentle slaps on her arm, Jana finally agrees and they leave them alone.

As Senne’s nervousness starts to rise, Zoë thinks about a plan to make him speak. Her mother one time told her that women are powerful if they use their tributes the right way and even though she highly disagrees with that sexist statement, in this type of situation, it’s not a bad idea.

Without any explanation, Zoë sits seductively in his lap, playing with the back is his hair while biting her bottom lip. If the central heating of the apartment wasn’t enough, now he certainly is a bit too hot.

“Baby?” Hot air from her whisper touches his ear and he has to physically stop himself from reacting, so she won’t know that she is indeed making him weak. How could she not? She is his biggest weakness.

Swallowing hard, he answers a quick “Yeah” while trying to think about something to distract him. Thankfully, Robbe and Sander are teasing Aaron and it’s useful enough to make him forget about the gorgeous lady he has in his lap.

“Remember when we agreed to communicate and tell the other one everything?” She is feeling herself, so she comes close to his lips and before kissing him she adds: “Well, I think right now you are not telling me everything”

Hopefully, and he doesn’t care that it sounds bad, he has time to think of his excuse while she’s kissing him. He should be enjoying the kiss. Zoë is not a passionate kisser, especially in public, so the fact that they are basically making out in front of everyone and he’s not enjoying it fully because his girlfriend is too noisy is such a shame.

“Are you going to tell me what were you talking about with my friends?”

Thank god he still has some brain cells that haven’t been affected: “Oh your friends? They are not my friends, too?” Now is his time to smirk at her, and distracting her from the secret that is her Christmas gifts.

“They were my friends first, then yours, but they were mine first.”

“Possessive, huh?” He lifts his eyebrows, smirking at her sassy face, as she’s, without succeeding, trying to make an angry face.

“You are not going to distracting me, you are keeping something from me” Oh, her stubborn girl, he’s going to have to try hard to not say anything.

“It’s nothing bad, I promise. But you cannot know, at least not yet.”

If her trying to be seductive didn’t work, she doesn’t know what will. She considers herself a pretty normal girl, but when she’s with him, when Senne looks at her, she feels so powerful and unstoppable. So the fact that that didn’t work, the fact that with a bit of seduction she didn’t make him spill whatever secret he’s keeping from her, it's a bit upsetting.

So she tries to do what she thinks will work: tickle him. At first, he laughs, doesn’t talk, or confesses tho, just laughs and tries to escape. It’s all fun and giggles when she remembers that he is stronger than her and that it’s a matter of seconds when he realizes that he can beat her.

And as if they were connected, Senne finally realizes that he can beat her, and gently blocks her hand from his ribcage to blow raspberries into her neck, making it her time to laugh.

“I promise you, on my life, that it’s nothing bad. It’s one of those things you need to know at a certain time, that’s why I can’t tell you right now, cause it’s not the right time to do so. Okay?” he can see her physically gasp for air, just to make the fakest thinking face ever. “Do you trust me?”

Her face softens, the brightest and sweet smile appearing on her face. She sits up, as she was in his lap, and sits on the couch next to him. Grabbing his big hand in her tiny ones, she looks at him while rubbing her thumb against his hand. “I do, I trust you”.

“Good” With how she’s sitting on the couch and the noticeable height difference they have, giving her a kiss on the lips is quite a difficult task, as the kiss that was supposed to end up in her lips ends in her nose, causing an adorable giggle to escape both their mouths.

“You missed”

“Maybe, maybe not” The sight that is her eyes shining in love is definitely one of his favorite things, right after how their hearts seem to beat at the same time when they kiss.

Prompt from the But do you REALLY want the K? list.

#my fanfics #zoenne #sobbe #wtfock #senne de smet #zoe loockx #cute mutuals

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all-things-skam · 5 years ago

Text

Jens’ season: chapter nine

Saturday, February 29th

Feeling the bed shift next to him, a smile broke out on Jens' face as he remembered last night's events. His plans had completely shifted and he couldn't be more happy - sorry, Robbe.

His heart began to swell, filled with endless happiness. He had thought Lucas was asleep when he confessed his feelings to him. That's why Jens allowed himself to say those three words. Given the Dutch boy's steady and slow breathing, he should've been asleep - but he wasn't -, which turned out to be a good thing. If he had been, Lucas wouldn't have reciprocated the words.

Jens felt his smile deepen. Lucas loved him back. Life couldn't be better.

At least, at 8am on a Saturday.

Lucas woke up not long after Jens, both still sleepy but also needy. He nuzzled his face into Jens' neck and along his shoulder, fighting sleep. That boy was really cuddly in the morning. Not that Jens minded.

Jens wished all his mornings would be like this. Warm, lazy and filled with kisses from the prettiest boy. It was as close to a perfect morning as it could get.

Lucas bit Jens' bottom lip and let it go with a 'pop'. ''Do we have any plans for today? Or are we staying in bed all day? Not that I'd mind.''

''We?''

The brunet hummed, blue irises looking up at Jens. ''I told you. It's my mom's weekend. I don't need to go home. I can stay here instead.''

A content smile formed on Jens' lips. ''I'd like that very much.''

Now that Jens had come out to the boys, he could officially introduce Lucas to them, but staying home and keeping Lucas for himself sounded better. Much better.

He leaned down to join their lips together, one of his hands sliding under the blanket and down Lucas' body. His hand was about to slide inside Lucas' boxers when his bedroom door opened and Lotte walked in, forcing their little 'fun' to end before it even started.

''Lucas!'' she squealed, eyes sparkling with joy the second she saw him in her brother's bed. Lotte jumped on the bed with them, clueless about what almost happened. ''I didn't know you were here.''

Lucas forced an awkward smile, cheeks flushed from the situation.

''Does Mama know?''

''Yes.''

Lotte knitted her eyebrows, staring at her brother, trying to figure out if he was lying. ''That's a lie. If she had known, you wouldn't have been startled when I came in.''

Jens groaned. If only she knew why he was startled... ''Lotte, can you go bother someone else? It's 8am, let me go back to sleep.''

''No! Dad left for work so Mama and I are making waffles downstairs.'' She turned to Lucas. ''Are you staying for breakfast, Lucas?''

The brunet cleared his voice. ''I guess I am.''

Grinning, Lotte took Lucas' hand and tugged, trying to drag him out of bed, but the curly haired one stayed under the covers, very aware that he was only wearing underwear. No matter how much he loved Jens' mom and sister, he didn't feel comfortable enough to be walking around like that in front of Jens' family.

''Why don't you go and make sure Mom doesn't burn the pancakes? We'll join you in a minute.''

Sunday, March 1st

Spending the weekend at Jens' made room for a lot of awkward situations.

Yesterday, Lucas almost stumbled into Jens' dad when exiting the bathroom after his shower. Is there any better way to be introduced to someone? Lucas wanted to be swallowed by the ground. Then, he got caught mid-changing by Lotte. Thankfully, his pants were still on.

Their making out session had been cut short this morning when Jens' mom walked in, catching them kissing in Jens' bed. Fenna didn't say anything, both boys being still fully clothed. She just deposited the pile of clean clothes and left, leaving the door wide open instead of just ajar. Message received.

Later in the afternoon, Jens decided to leave the house to get some fresh air - aka freedom.

While he was grateful that his parents agreed to have Lucas spending the weekend over - and sleeping in his bed -, he was tired of his family breathing down his neck or constantly being interrupted by his sister. They couldn't even sleep in or have some morning cuddles without Lotte coming in and jumping on the bed. Jens really needed to learn to lock the door.

It was cloudy and gray outside - a bit cold too -, but Jens wanted some time alone with Lucas. Can you blame him?

Spoon still in his mouth, Lucas hummed, eyes closed. ''This cake.''

''It's good, uh?''

The brunet nodded avidly, cutting another piece of his cake with his spoon. ''You, Belgians know how to make desserts.''

Jens shook his head, smiling. ''You and your sweet tooth...''

As if a cake wasn't sweet enough, Lucas had ordered the sweetest one on the menu: a chocolate mousse cake. Even though Luc had told Jens how much he loved chocolate, he didn't realize until now exactly how big of a sweet tooth he really had.

Jens watched the thick, yet smooth chocolate mousse disappear into the brunet's mouth. He cleared his throat and averted his eyes, reminding himself where they were. He tried to keep his mind from wandering to a dangerous place, but it wasn't easy. It seemed, sometimes, like Lucas made every minor actions somewhat suggestive, and he knew exactly the effect it would have on Jens.

''Want a taste?'' Lucas asked, raising an eyebrow.

Turning his attention back to him, Jens nodded. Why not? He wasn't a big fan of desserts, but the chocolate mousse seemed really tasty. He opened his mouth, ready to taste the sweet desert, but Lucas put the spoon in his own mouth, making Jens frown and pout.

''Hey! That was for me.''

Lucas shrugged. ''Sorry, but this cake is just too good to share.''

''Tease''

Smiling smugly, Lucas blew him a kiss over the table before returning to his plate.

Jens pulled up his phone, snapped a picture of Lucas - he was just too cute to not capture this moment - when a notification from the selling app popped up. ''Yes!''

Lucas glanced at his boyfriend, confused.

''Someone is interested in something I'm selling,'' Jens explained.

''What are you selling?''

''Oh, just games I don't play anymore.'' He shrugged. ''They were collecting dust.''

It wasn't a huge sale. Only some game at 7€, but, it was 7€ less to find to pay back the drugs Lucas had flushed.

Lucas frowned, taking a sip of his fancy coffee. ''Why are you selling your video games online? Can't you go to a game store for that? Jayden does it all the time.''

''Yeah, but they only offer discounts on other games. I need money.''

''What for?''

Jens sighed. He didn't want to involve Lucas any more in his problems, but he already knew about the drugs, so why not. ''Remember when you saved my ass and got rid of the drugs in my locker? Well, my dealer texted me and he wants his money. I have some cash from the weed I sold and other stuff, but what has been flushed needs to be paid too. I can't just tell him I almost got caught and had to get rid of them.''

''I can help. It's partly my fault that you have to repay him.''

Jens shook his head. ''No. It's my fault that I'm caught in this shit.''

''And, it's my fault that they're in the sewers somewhere in Antwerp.'' Lucas paused. ''We could always try to retrieve them...''

Jens wrinkled his nose in disgust. The pills had probably all dissolved by now anyway. ''Ew, gross.''

''So, are you taking my offer?'' Jens hesitated and Lucas smiled at him. ''You can pay me back if you want to. In cash or...other,'' he added, winking over the table.

''I'll think about it.''

Monday, March 2nd

''What the fuck, man? Why did you shoot me?''Jens asked through the headphone's mic as his character received a bullet to the chest.

''Sorry, I thought it was Aaron.''

Jens laughed, looking around on his TV screen to find Aaron and shoot him, laughing harder as he did so.

''Hey! Why is everyone trying to kill me?''

''Because it's fun,'' Moyo responded.

paused his video game when he saw Michiel's name on the screen. He bit his lip anxiously before opening the message.

Michiel: Where's my cash, kid? Ghosting me won't work. I need it by Thursday. Or else...

Jens stared at the screen for what felt like a lifetime. Michiel was now threatening him. Jens had to do something quick or he was going to be in real danger. Who knew what Michiel - or his men - were capable of? He couldn't tell Lucas why he had suddenly changed his mind and he felt bad for asking his boyfriend for money - Lucas wasn't his personal banker -, but he needed the money sooner rather than later.

Jens: Is your offer still standing? I don't think I'll sell enough shit by Thursday

Lucas: I told you I'd help, didn't I?

Lucas: When do you need it for?

Jens: Thursday

Lucas: Want me to come with?

Jens: No. I'll be fine

Lucas: Is that supposed to be reassuring?

Jens: I'll be fine, Luc

Lucas: Okay... but I want you to text me when you get there and when you leave just so I know you are safe

Jens: 👍

Wednesday, March 4th

The television was playing loudly when Fenna returned from work, some sort of anime on the big screen. She furrowed her eyebrows at the unfamiliar characters, her heart aching at the explicit content flashing across the screen. How can teenagers watch that?

''Sorry for finishing so late. There was a big car accident and I had to do extra time to help,'' she explained, removing her jacket and setting her bag down. ''Did Lotte eat already?''

''No, I let her starve,'' the teenager answered from the couch.

Fenna gave her son a look. ''Jens...''

He flashed his mother a smile. ''I'm joking. I reheated last night's leftovers.''

''Good. Where's is she?''

''Upstairs playing in her room. Want me to tell her to come down?''

Before he could call Lotte down, Fenna shook her head. ''No. That's good, actually. I wanted to talk to you.''

Jens frowned, trying to read his mother's face but failing. She came around to sit on the couch and he turned down the volume of the television.

''You...you were right. About your father. He lied to my face about this job, he lied to all of us.'' Fenna closed her eyes, her husband's lie still fresh.

She had gone to see Mohamed on her lunch break between shifts since the hospital wasn't far from his new office - and he wasn't answering his phone. When Fenna got there, she asked to see him and was told that he didn't work there and never had.

''After a lot of difficult thinking, I made a decision and I wanted you to be the first to know about it. Your father and I will be separating.''

''As in a divorce?''

Fenna nodded slowly. She didn't want to get a divorce - nobody does. Divorce felt like a failure to a lot of people. But, it was the right choice to make. ''I still love your father, but sometimes love isn't enough. Money might not buy happiness, but without money, we can't live in this house.''

''We?'' Jens repeated. ''That means we're going to...move?''

Exhaling a breath, Fenna nodded sadly. ''I didn't want to. I did everything in my power to stay here, but I can't afford this house on my own.''

Jens swallowed thickly, a wave of sadness flowing in. He wasn't one to get attached to things, but loved this house. He spent his whole life here. Every corner and walls held a memory. The staircase where he broke his arm when he fell with his bike when he was five, the dining room table where him and his mom used to sit and work on his spelling homework, his bedroom where he had his first makeout session and the place he lost his virginity.

''What about Dad?''

He didn't want to be insensitive, but where will his father go? Clearly, he won't be following them after the divorce.

''His brother lives in Liège, he'll be staying with him for a moment. Or, so he said.''

Jens nodded. Maybe a change of scenery will be good for him. Maybe it'll help him get back on track.

Thursday, March 5th

His hands were clammy as he crossed the street, seeing Michiel's building in his line of sight. After his parents' divorce announcement, Jens wasn't in the mood to meet with Michiel, but he didn't really have the choice. Michiel had been clear: he wanted his money. He didn't care whatever was happening in Jens' personal life.

All the money was in his left pocket, feeling heavy, and a worried Lucas was in the other, sending him texts every ten seconds.

Jens stood on the doorstep and rang the doorbell, stress growing in his stomach. He bit his lip as he waited, going still when the door opened and the same big guy who was there the first time stood there.

''Long time no see,'' he pointed out.

''Is Michiel here? I have his money.''

The man nodded and let Jens in, the door shutting loudly behind.

''So, it's over? No more drug dealing shit?''

Jens hummed. ''It's over.'' He kissed Lucas in the middle. ''No more drug dealing shit.''

Lucas rolled his eyes at the small mockery. ''Good.'' He sighed, relieved.

After leaving Michiel's, Jens came over to Lucas' to reassure him and take advantage of Mr. Van Der Heijden being at work. They hadn't had a lot of alone time during the weekend despite Lucas sleeping over, so it was nice to be just the two of them again.

Lucas led them to the couch and cuddled against Jens, being the cuddle-bear he will never admit to be. Some things were just for Jens and him to know.

''I could fall asleep right here and now,'' Lucas pointed, closing his eyes as Jens played with his curls, twirling the soft ringlets between his fingers.

''Am I that much of a bore? Because I can go home if-''

Clutching a fistful of Jens' hoodie, Lucas made a protest noise. ''Don't you dare.''

Jens laughed and kissed his forehead, feeling Lucas pulling him in closer. He was keenly aware of Lucas' wants and needs and cuddling was Lucas' unspoken signal of reassurance that he would always be there for him.

''So, now that you've met my family, when am I going to meet yours?'' Jens asked, mildly teasing, breaking the comfortable silence first.

Lucas grew quiet, staring down at the carpet in front of the couch, the shades of browns and greys suddenly very interesting.

''Do you...not want me to meet your parents or something?'' Jens asked, silently hoping it wasn't that.

The brunet sat up, removing himself from Jens' hold. ''No, no. That not- It's just, I've never introduced someone to my parents...like that.''

''You mean a guy?''

''No girls either, if it reassures you,'' Lucas added with a bit of humor.

''You've told your mom about me, though?''

''Yes, but it's complicated. With my mom, we can't just schedule a date and have dinner all together. She might get anxious or she can- So many things can go wrong.''

''Or it could go well.''

Lucas sighed, moving away from his boyfriend's touch. ''Jens...''

''And, your dad?''

‘’My dad’s a dick. I only moved with him because the judge said I had to. It was that or going to a foster family. My dad might be a dick, but he’s not the worst. There’s kids out there that need fostering more than me, some who are stuck in abusive families or even orphans. I would’ve felt bad for taking someone’s place. Entering the foster system would’ve also meant not seeing my mom anymore and I can’t renounce to that.’’ Lucas paused, swallowing his emotions. ‘’She needs me. I’m all she has left. I can’t do that to her.’’

By the way his voice was strained, Jens could tell that it was still a difficult subject. Lucas was close to his mother. Hearing his story made Jens wonder how bad her mental illness was. If a judge had declared her inapte to take care of him, it must be serious. It was also so sad to hear that her husband had completely pushed her out of his life just because of her mental illness. She was lucky to have a son like Lucas.

As much as he wanted to meet Lucas’ parents, it wasn’t worth putting Lucas - nor his parents - in this state. Causing trouble in his boyfriend’s family wasn’t what Jens wanted.

He shook his head. ‘’Forget what I said, okay? I’ll meet them when you’re ready. No pressure.’’ He flashed Lucas a small smile which got reciprocated.

Lucas nodded, grateful to have someone as understanding as Jens. ‘’I love you.’’

‘’I love you,’’ Jens repeated, pulling the smaller one back into his hold.

Friday, March 6th

‘’Is Lucas coming?’’ Aaron asked, leaning against the kitchen counter.

Jens nodded, taking a sip of his beer. ‘’He said he’s on his way.’’

An eager smile spread on Aaron’s lips. ‘’So, I’m gonna meet him?’’ he added, unable to contain his excitement.

‘’You’ve met Lucas before...’’

‘’Yeah, but not as your boyfriend. This is a big deal-’’

‘’Aaron…’’

He shrugged. ‘’What? I didn't say it the other day, but I’m happy for you. I liked Jana, but Lucas is much cooler. At least he skates with us instead of sitting and watching.’’

Jens raised an eyebrow. ‘’Cooler than Sander?’’

‘’Don’t push.’’

After Robbe, Aaron was Sander’s biggest fan. He was never shy to voice how much admiration he had for him whether it was his flirting tactics, his confidence, romantic gestures or how good looking he was. It even became a running joke in the gang that if Sander wasn't already taken by Robbe, the curly haired one would tempt his chance.

‘’Your boy is here,’’ Aaron pointed out, nudging Jens as he saw Lucas walking in.

Jens looked up, watching as Lucas squeezed a path between the dancing girls in the living room and some shotgun drinkers. He grimaced at the mess it was making on the floor and scanned the room, trying to find his boyfriend, fastening his pace when he spotted him and Aaron in the kitchen.

Jens greeted him with a kiss, getting some cooing from Aaron. Could he be more annoying? Lucas leaned into Jens as the latter hooked an arm over his shoulder, pulling him close.

‘’So, you’re Jens’ boyfriend?’’

Jens rolled his eyes and groaned. ‘’Let’s go look for Moyo and Robbe.’’

They all sat in the bathroom, passing around weed and booze, like the old days. Moyo had brought some weed and smoke was rapidly filling the bathroom as they all blew their thick, grey puffs into the air.

It was the first time they all hung out together - Lucas and Sander included. Jens and Lucas squeezed in next to Robbe and Sander in the tub, laughing as Aaron vented about his latest romantic gesture that turned into an epic fail. Honestly, when does it not?

''I had the room all set up and everything,’’ he explained. ‘’Candles, flower petals, her favorite scented bath stuff, but then her mom came home and ruined my surprise before we could even get in the water. I tried telling Amber that we can still go in, but she said it was too weird if her mom was in the house.’’

Amber’s bathtub. Lucas shared glances with Jens, memories of their first kiss flowing in.

Sander sighed. ‘’Robbe’s the same, he won’t-’’

Knowing where this was going, Robbe didn’t let Sander finish his sentence, covering his mouth with his hand before he could say any more, refusing to let this turn into another let’s tell Aaron about our sex-life episode.

‘’Why did you stop? It was getting interesting,’’ Aaron complained.

‘’Quit encouraging Sander into telling you stuff. It’s private.’’

‘’And weird,’’ Jens added, backing his best friend.

‘’You’re the one who used to brag about sex-’’

Jens rolled his eyes. ‘’I don't brag…’’

He did tell everyone about losing his virginity and the sex he had with Jana - what else does fifteen years old do? And, he ranted about that toothpaste tip...a lot, but he wasn’t on Aaron’s level of bragging.

‘’Well, if you really want to know, there’s this amazing thing Jens does with his-’’ Lucas stopped himself, a smug grin on his lips. ‘’Did you really think I was going to tell you?’’

‘’I like him,’’ Moyo commented, giving Lucas a high five.

The gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Jens. It was nice to see that Lucas was integrating well into their group.

“So, since we have two new guys in the group, maybe we should get to know you both better?” Aaron suggested, waiting for his turn to take a puff.

“Dude, why do you always have to be in everyone's business?” Moyo asked.

''Don’t you know Sander enough already? You've pestered him with questions ever since Robbe said they were dating,’’ Jens said, making Robbe laugh.

Lucas felt his phone buzz and reached into his pocket to see who it was. Noting the number, he silenced the call and put his phone back in his pocket, returning his attention to the boys.

Aaron shrugged. “I’m just trying to get to know my best friends' boyfriends. If they are important to them, I want to get to know them better and let them know we care enough to get to know them.”

Sander snorted. “How profound and thoughtful of you, Aaron. I feel much more appreciated.”

Robbe laughed as Jens grabbed the joint from Moyo and took a hit. He had hesitated at first, remembering recent events, but figured that weed was a better coping method than Xanax. And, he wasn’t going to let himself get so high. Just a couple puffs to have a nice buzz.

He was about to hand it to Lucas when his phone went off - again. Sighing, Lucas pulled it out of his jacket and frowned.

‘’Gotta take this. It’s the third time he’s called, it must be important. I’ll be right back.’’

Jens nodded and watched as Lucas rose to his feet, leaving Jens’ side and headed outside to answer the phone call in a more quiet place.

The second the door closed, Sander whistled. ‘’I didn’t believe Robbe when he told me you two got together. Does he still steal your fries?’’

Rolling his eyes, Jens shook his head.

Minutes later, the door opened and Lucas’ face was worried and distraught, his previous lightness and drunken happiness completely gone.

Jens furrowed his eyebrows. ‘’Luc?’’ He sat up, recognizing a frantic and panicked behavior.

‘’I-I gotta go,’’ he simply said, ignoring Jens’ question and grabbing his jacket on the edge of the tub before leaving again, not saying ‘bye’ to anyone.

The boys watched confusedly and gave Jens a look, but the latter wasn’t paying attention to them, his eyes focused solely on Lucas. Jens stood, handing the joint back to Robbe, and went after his boyfriend, wondering what he had been told on the phone that made him want to leave the party so fast.

He didn't catch up to him until they were outside, the amount of people inside the house made it difficult to get a hold of Lucas. The evening wind hit his face the second he stepped out, sending a shiver down Jens’ back. He grabbed Lucas’ arm when he was close enough to reach and made him stop.

‘’Slow down, Luc. Why are you leaving?'' he asked, releasing his arm.

Lucas turned around, eyes filled with tears but he fought them. ''My dad. He said-'' He interrupted himself, shaking his head, voice trembling and faulty as he spoke.

Jens frowned, going immediately into comforting mode. Something was up, but the Dutch boy was talking so fast and the panic in his voice made it more difficult for Jens to understand what he was saying.

He lifted Lucas' chin, catching sight of his glassy blue eyes. ''Hey...tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you or understand if you don’t tell me.’’

‘’My mom. It’s- She’s going to be admitted to a clinic, I… I have to go.’’

#van der stoffels #jens's season #jens stoffels #lucas van der heijden #wtfock #vds #skam nl #jens x lucas #lucas x jens

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