#this is very long sorry! but it has to be presented this way.

[fridgemissionmaster]

“Sorry Bud, I already promised to study with Satan then, maybe later, okay?”

Bitter blueberry jam dribbled down his chin.

“Yeah! Let’s go after cla-”

“MC, Diavolo wants to talk to you.”

“… Hopefully this won’t take long.”

A gulp of air along with brittle burnt tarte taint.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t make it to your practice! Mammon blew up a wall of the chem lab and Lucifer had the both of us clean up…”

Colorful cookies, maybe they were macarons left a tingling spice on the way down.

“I… Maybe next week. Solomon decided that skipping a couple lessons to be too terrible and is insisting that we bump them up before he has to leave for the Sorcerer Society thing. I-I’ll tell you as soon as I get free time, okay!”

Boba tea, bubbling sodas, cold pizza who’s fat congealed on the meat slices, breath trembling inhaling chopped up veggies.

A deep sigh escaped him as he further burrowed his face into those fluffy red pillows. It always had been difficult to get time with just you, usually there was someone else around. At least then he still got to be with you at all.

Beelzebub was a very kind and considerate demon, considering he was literally starving all the time he probably had the most control over himself than any other of his kind, and that included his jealousy. You knew of these feelings too, he was after all a very blunt person as well, admitting to these feeling as such when Barbatos got to spend so much time with you so close to make a present for him, or when those Queen of Jealousys got him to act on these impulses, lying to Solomon about being on a date so he’d back off or wisking you away when Leviathan tried dragging you off to play games when you already promised him to do so.

He didn’t like how rough he became under his impulses, with others and especially you. But it was effective in getting to be together and you didn’t mind at the time.

…

If you let him, he’d swallow you whole. Eat up all your time and anything else you were willing to give. Did everyone feel this way about you or was it just him and his gluttonous tendencies, wanting to consume everything you are.

This was ridiculous, everyone else kept needing you for one reason or another, practically kidnapping you from place to place, once literally by Mammon this week. How long had it been since he last got to talk to you outside of brief dinner conversations and quick date rejections.

And you really tried making time for him too, but something ALWAYS came up lately.

His stomach felt sour, acids stinging and gnawing away at him, boiling and churning. It was rancid this heat in his gut. Would he also have to get used to this feeling too? But then what would be left for Levi to be the avatar of?

… Great and his snack stash was empty.

With perhaps a bit too much force he knocked the little crate back under the bed.

Kitchen.

Asmo hadn’t done the dinner shopping yet so surely it’d be fine if he helped himself now, Asmo could just replace whatever he needed.

… It was eerily quiet in the house; most everyone was out for the day for one reason or another aside from

well…

He stood beside the library for a moment, Solomon droning on and on, you piping up on occasion.

How many times was the shady sorcerer going to harass you about having another lesson, you had enough work from R.A.D. you needed a break.

But

You agreed to them.

You were okay, he’d seen you stand up for yourself plenty of times.

Kitchen. He needed to get a something to settle his stomach. The tase on the back of his tongue was acrid.

Bitter blueberry jam dribbled down his chin.

A gulp of air along with brittle burnt tarte taint.

Colorful cookies, maybe they were macarons left a tingling spice on the way down.

Boba tea, bubbling sodas, cold pizza who’s fat congealed on the meat slices, breath trembling inhaling chopped up veggies.

They were all spat back out when plastic got caught between the teeth, sometimes even removing the packaging taking too long.

Crack the skull open, find the candy and sweets inside, let it all come spilling out to be swallowed once more, letting everything fall into a lemon juice ocean with no ice or sugar, let it all lap against the eroding shore.

White, bright-

Oh…

The fridge was empty.

Lucifer was going to scold him for sure…

Quickly he stood, shutting the door behind himself as if fearing anyone was there to catch him.

But no one was there.

……… Maybe he should do a little shopping before anyone found out. And Madam Scream’s just released some limited cookie flavors! He could get some to share with you after dinner as a surprise dessert! He should also pick up your favorite just in case you didn’t like the flavors or were allergic to them so you could still have a nice treat. There was also going to be a new episode of the Great Devildom Bake Off, it’d be perfect to watch that with pastries in hand, snuggled on the couch under a fuzzy blanket. A hum rumbled in his chest, the man almost missing the drool leaking from the corner of his mouth before quickly wiping it away.

He'd have to watch the episode alone, but he could at least give you your favorite before you left for the Demon Lord’s Castle after dinner.

Trotting out the kitchen, around the corner he strode towards… the…

Something dark, something sweet, he gave the air a couple more sniffs.

Chocolate! And quality ones at that! Poison green apple, bloody orange, and depressive blue strawberry liquids inside! You popped one into your mouth with a tired, content hum, eyes closing for a moment to savor the taste. One of his favorite expressions. What a treat.

“Oh, Beel!” Excitedly you straightened your posture, turning to face him. You voice was slightly muffled with the chocolate stowed away in your now puffy cheek to speak a little more clearly. “Perfect we were just taking a break.”

“Only for a minuet.” You glared at the white haired man for a moment mumbling ‘you made that very clear’.

“Anyway! What are you up to! Wait, com’ere you can try some of these- ah- eh.” Your excitement fizzled out, instead turning sheepish and disappointed. He peeked over the couch finding you patted an empty tray. “Sorry Beel.” He hated how you just deflated.

“Ah-” The bags under your eyes were a bit more dark than usual. Hand on your cheek, his thumb carefully stroked the spot, making sure to go nowhere near your eye.

“That’s okay. I was going to get some stuff for us from Madam Scream’s. But maybe I could have something sweeter to tide me over?”

He barely had a moment to react, your warmth crashing into his lips, drawing a shuttering breath from him. Was he melting? It felt like he was melting. And that taste, the taste of you, your lips were like nothing else, his heart always pitter-pattered the moment it hit his tongue. “One more.” He could only bring himself to part away for a moment. How long had it been? He missed this so much, although, he was pretty sure he’d feel the same if you gave him a kiss on the cheek that lasted longer than a microsecond or wasn’t interrupted by someone. He couldn’t help staring for a moment, adoring the deep dark red blooming across your face and savoring the heat radiating off your cheeks. “See you at dinner.”

With a spring in his step he waltzed out, that giddiness bubbling and popping out of his chest, he almost wanted to go run a few laps around the Devildom! But he had a mission first so that would have to wait for another time! It almost felt- not embarrassing, but something like it, an overflowing happiness that made him want to hide away and sink in the feeling, a smile pulling on his lips so hard, he swore he could still taste that sweetness on them!

“H-HOLD ON! YOU CAN’T JUST UP AND DO THAT!”

Huh?

“MC!” You didn’t heed Solomon’s call, bursting out of the library.

“GIVE ME BACK MY CHOCOLATE!”

“… What?”  Maybe… there was a reason you look so flustered. Guess he got REALLY into your kisses. But how could he not? “I’m sorry. I can pick you up some more a-”

“No! I want that one back!”

“It’s kind of melt-” It was simple to step to the side when you lunged at him. He recognized that look in your eye, something embarrassed, something playful. But more importantly, you smiled, smirking as you chased after him, some of that tiredness seeming to disappear.

Okay, he’d play. A light chuckle escaped him as he took off.

“Get back here!” You ran about, vaulting over couches, ducking around corners, racing up the stairs, hiding in rooms for a moment only to weave around and escape.

He stood in the attic, just as he was about to dash out and leap down the stairwell you blocked the door! When did you get so fast, or was Solomon teaching you a new spell for that?

He couldn’t hold back anymore, when you leaped into him Beel wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight and close. The force behind your jump did catch him off guard, knocking him slightly off balance. Spinning on toe he kicked his other leg out desperate for balance but knocking into the bed behind him put a bit of a hinderance to that.

The pair of you were a giggling mess toppling over into the nest-like pile of pillows and blankets. You took deep breaths, arms wide open looking to the ceiling while Beel found himself atop you, using his arms to prop himself up a little so you had breathing room.

With one last heaving breath you cracked your eyes open, so brightly smiling at him. Your hands cupped his cheeks pulling him in. “A few more.”

He certainly would never deny you that, but he did have to ask. “What about your lesson?”

“… Later. I’ve missed my Love Bug.” How your voice wavered, trembled at the end, his knees grew weak.

Now it was his turn to be the red faced one, getting a bright exhausted laugh out of you. Oh what your nickname, your affection did to him. So sweet and warm and just so good. So mild and cozy. He could stay like this forever, just in your arms.

[tarnishedxknight]

"Very well, the door opened all of its own accord. I believe you. The technology in this place is passable at best," Drace said. "But you still did not have to linger when it did open," she insisted, attempting to walk Larsa some distance away but finding the boy rather adamant instead. And so she stopped and listened to him protest his age and insist that he need to speak to Gabranth. All of that was not surprising, given that young age he protested so much, but what had her finally feeling irritated with the boy was his observation that she was... not helping.

Drace sighed and knelt down so she would be at Larsa's height. "You are quite right, my lord. I am not helping," she said definitively, pausing before she continued. "I am not helping you, at present. I am, howe'er, helping Gabranth." She wondered if she would get through to him, given that he was showing all twelve of his years and that he was so very eager to get his way, and yet she persisted. "He is underneath those blankets because he is not ready to receive you. I am sorry that you had to see him in that state, but it is a state you are not used to seeing him in. In our own time, there were far more barriers and boundaries to seeing him that way than there are in this one. Especially... when one does not knock, or if one permits the door to decide whether or not one intrudes upon the privacy of another."

Another soft sigh and then her tone softened just a hair more. "Larsa... I think 'tis admirable that you wish to speak to Gabranth. He wishes to speak with you as well. But he is wounded as you say, though not at all in the same manner he is with Basch. He is not angry with you, but he does need time. Whether that time is several minutes or several days, I know not, but accosting him in this instance will do neither of you any good. 'Tis admirable that you wish to talk, but 'tis not only about what you want in this moment, and you must give him time. When he said my name just now - I know that you heard it - 'twas his indication to me that he was not ready to see you just yet. If he had been ready, he would have simply addressed you himself. I only did as he asked of me and ushered you out for now. Not forever."

"'Tis not a matter of trust or of some irrevocable wrong you think you have done to him. If you do not speak to him right this moment, there is no magical time that shall pass after which he'll no longer forgive you. You are his son. He will always love and forgive you. There is perhaps no one else on this earth to which he would grant such allowance. 'Tis only that yesterday gave him a very bad shock, and he is not his usual self because of it. He-..." She hesitated to speak for Gabranth, but she knew this to be true. "He is afraid you will turn away from him, my lord, and that has given him a terrible shock. Give him time. If I know him at all, he is probably already collecting himself, and you shall not have very long to wait."

Larsa did not expect to be unfrozen at all, let alone in the future. When he had snuck upon Gabranth's ship set for Pharos he did it to ensure the peace would be possible. The last thing he remembered was running towards fallen Gabranth and then... Light. (Marvel AU) - tarnishedxjudgement

@tarnishedxjudgement

Noah didn't have the same abilities and resources in this time period with which to inform himself of anything and everything that was going on around him. He was in the dark, most of the time, unless directly informed of things, a condition he hated. Being at the mercy of others he neither knew nor trusted for information was not a position he usually found himself in.

It was the reason he hadn't known about Drace being found after him until she was brought one day to the training compound. Inexplicably, after executing her in his own timeline, here she was again, seemingly from another. The entire experience was wholly jarring, but not nearly as jarring as losing his only son.

So often had Noah thought of Larsa in the months following his revival in this strange time. Thoughts invaded his peace, his sleep, his ability to function, until he found himself so erratic and unhinged that he did not recognize himself anymore. Even Drace found it difficult to comfort him, and she had always been a master of that feat. There was no closure to be had, no second chances, no going back... and that knowledge was eating Noah alive from the inside out.

But once again, information had been kept from him, and yet another arrival from Ivalice to the Avengers compound was neither expected nor necessarily wanted. Would it be another Dalmascan? Gods forbid a Rozarrian. And the way the people of this time seemed to think that all Ivalicians got along and would be happy to see each other was beyond irritating to him. Nevertheless, when he was specifically summoned to greet this newcomer, Noah begrudgingly left his quarters to do so.

What he saw... stopped him dead in his tracks. Within seconds, his expression betrayed him, and within a few more, he was on his knees, his legs giving way in disbelief of the sight that lay before him. It was little Lord Larsa, looking just as he did when last Noah laid eyes on him, perfect as can be.

He knew he should say something, but words betrayed him as well as his own legs had. Instead, he merely stared, the absence of his helm serving to display to the boy all the shock, confusion, and relief at seeing him standing there. Finally, he forced out the only two words he felt he could say without falling apart.

"My lord..."

[bronx-bomber87]

Hello and happy Wednesday Fandom and wonderful readers :) This was another solid episode. The hitman SL could be interpreted in a few ways I think. Which is kind of fun. I'll be real honest I'm not 100 percent sure what the endgame is and such. This doesn't feel done. But that is the fun part of these 'First' impressions. Those first initials thoughts. Would I like to be spot on and right all the time? Sure who wouldn't be? haha

But I'm also ok being off or wrong about this as well. I'm sure my outlook will be wildly different when this ep gets added to my master list this summer. I was entertained though I will say that. We got to have Tim/Angela on a case too. What's not to love there? Bestie time is always appreciated.

Second LOVED The Lucy/Celina SL. I'm very close to my sister so it struck an emotional chord with me. Just like her sister SL did the first time. As a all around episode I really enjoyed it. Not gonna say it was 7x08, 7x09, 7x11 or 7x12 caliber but I liked it all around like last ep. That is the theme of this season. Plus I'll never say no to another hug. Ever. Hard to believe we're in the home stretch. The final 5 are left including this one. This has gone way too fast. Only 4 left after this one. Better to not dwell on that too long. Let us begin.

7x14 Mad About Murder

We start off in what has become my happy place this season. Tim's house. Just makes me giddy to be there. No matter the occupants with him. Obviously the most enjoyable is when Lucy is there ha. But I'm getting such joy out of the use of it. I'm sure Eric was thrilled considering he fought so hard to get it back. Love that man. Oh Captain, my Captain.

Tim invited Miles over to strong arm him into the touch football game. Which is beyond precious by the way. I love seeing Tim so passionate about it. We know how much he loves football. What it means to him. Also how competitive he is. Was giving 1x05 vibes. Their convo is interrupted by a knock. The minute Tim opened the door and that man said his rank and name I was anxious.

Now I will say the way he cocked his gun and reopened the door. Have mercy. I was here for it. Tim in streets plus that? Thank you writers for this morsel. The dude's face when Tim reappears with the gun is priceless. Not what he signed up for. But what did he expect showing up to a cop's house with a message like that? Tim doesn't have time for this and has Miles cuff the guy.

This is where all my questions and anxiety stem from for this SL. Questions like. Who is this person? Why are they wanting to take down this site? But mostly WHY Tim? Why deliver it to him? This is where my nerves kick in. This unknown voice saying they will destroy him if he tries to find out. They could mean 'You.' as the collective LAPD 'You.' But they could also not.

Now would I be reacting this way if this was delivered to Nolan? No. Not even a little bit. Sorry John. lol But I am over protective over him and Lucy. More so than anyone else on this show. Something I'm sure is obvious af to you all. The fact that this landed on Tim's doorstep put me on edge from the moment it happened.

Just didn't sit right with me. Them finding Tim at his house and presenting it the way they did. I could be overreacting but my initial gut reaction to this was anxiety and questions. That is the fun of going through these the first time though and seeing how it unfolds. Was quite the start to the ep.

Poor Celina I can't even imagine what she was feeling. To take the darkest moment of your life and hear people talk and comment on it? What a violation. I feel dirty just writing about it. Let alone living it. I do love that Lucy love's true crime. That has always made me chuckle. She lives and breathes it and craves more in her off time.

Lucy's face when she hears Celina's name. Ugh. I would've reacted the same way. Taken off like a bat out of hell. Ready to destroy this podcaster. Lucy is barely able to keep up with Celina as she all but bolts towards this woman's place. Trying to be supportive of how she feels but wanting to keep her anger contained. Since she is a a public servant and all.

We can see the concern written all over her face as she chases Celina. She's such a good friend. I love her. We all need a Lucy in our lives friend wise. Luckily she is able to contain it best she can with Celina pulling her mom out. They run into another woman in the hall. One desperately looking for her pregnant sister who has been missing for weeks. Celina's mom volunteering them to help her. Their SL begins.

What I loved about this SL was we got to have Tim and Angela on a case together. Bestie's unite on this one. This may be random af but made me think of a thing on New Girl. 'A Classic Winston and Cece mess around.' LOL A classic Tim and Angela case. This scene above being why. The looks shared between them while they investigate these clueless people haha Didn't have the space to get third guy in but their shared looks are top notch.

That first lady is clearly checking Tim out. No shame in her game. Saying as long as his arm as she checked out his arm lmao I mean, I was checking out his arms too, but I always do that when they’re in plain view like that. The way he turns around to Angela had me cackling. Man never knows how to take being hit on. Never has. Never will.

Eric is so effortlessly funny it’s subtle, but it lands so well. And Alyssa? Her reaction in kind is absolute perfection. They're so good together. The second one hitting on Angela is too funny. I was laughing so hard. "Not this shorty.' Ha I really do love when they're paired together. Only other person Tim has this good of chemistry with on a case, besides Lucy, is Angela. Their banter and teamwork is *chef's kiss* So you'll never see me complain about them tackling a case together.

They find out hitman and clients alike are being wiped out due to website being hacked. Which is horrifying with how quickly they found that out tbh. I mean clearly the person who let Tim know and the person wiping out these people are not the same.

Makes me wonder who the hell it is.... I'm assuming that's the idea. That we aren't supposed to know. What they do know is they have a list of people to stop from being killed.

Nolan tries to make a dad joke and fails HARD. The look between them had me cracking up. I did love their in-sync turn to face John. Only other person I would be comfortable Tim having this much case chemistry with is her. Bestie magic at it's finest. They're so over Nolan's BS and I'm laughing so very hard. Thinking he has something important to say and it's that....Swing and a miss good sir. I love them.

I LOVE LOVE LOVE the authority Lucy exudes in this scene. Takes control of the situation immediately. Telling Heather she needs to leave. Not in a minute. Not after they talk. NOW. Of course she tries to contest it and that doesn't fly with Lucy. Not one bit. 'She's not in charge. I am.' *mic drop* Like hot damn girl. You're every bit the badass you don’t give yourself credit for. Look at you. I'm so proud.

Forever in awe of the confident BAMF of a woman she has become. It floors me just like Tim's growth. Makes me so happy to see. I adore Lucy taking on this leader/protector role for Celina in this episode. Knowing these waters are going to be choppy emotionally for her with this one. Celina has come a long way but this is a trigger for her. One she wouldn't be able to handle on her own.

Now I totally understand why Taylor did this. I'm very close to my sister. She's basically one of my best friends. I cannot imagine having a fallout like that and then have her go missing. I would be sick with worry and guilt. Needing to do SOMETHING to fix it. To alleviate the anxiety and worry eating me alive. I would be insane with stress and reaching out to anyone to help me. As I said earlier this SL struck a personal chord with me. They wrote this very well.

We get to the scene (other than the hug) I was most excited to get to. Some bestie time at Tim's house. Which I am more than happy they are at once again. They take a break from work and Tim asks if she wants a drink? They shift from work to personal life pretty quickly. Thank you Angela. You are a Queen and we all adore you for it. Doesn’t hold back on giving him shit in the slightest. No matter the subject. We are not worthy madam. But forever grateful.

She starts out slow. Asking about the game. If he convinced Miles to join yet or not? I love her easing him into it. She knows this man well. Tim jokes he threatened a blue page. Angela poking and prodding in a way only she can. Tim saying this game is important to him. Angela knows exactly what that is code for. All his issues with his father and what football represented for him. Doesn't waste a second calling him out for it. Tim asking if she always has to poke at his feelings? Uh duh.

Of course she wants to talk feelings. What else do you expect Timothy? Sure it's a convo she's been wanting to have for awhile with him. Especially with Tim and Lucy in a seemingly better place, a confusing, messy place, but still better. One where no one, including them, fully knows what that means. Clearly that is coming across to everyone in the station Angela included. Also love her saying he's one of the girls and girls gossip LOL Fantastic but true. What happens you have a girl-bestie my love. They wanna talk feelings.

Angela doesn't beat around the bush. Telling him to just spill it. He's not going to win this battle and he knows it. Asking Tim what's going on with him and Lucy? I will say this scene gave me 6x06 vibes. That scene in the car at the dock while they're tailing Ray. Angela giving him her advise whether he wants it or not. He isn't nearly as obstinate now as he was then. He is just a smidge this time around haha. It feels mostly banter based though. Tim replying honestly he doesn't know. It's a fair assessment.

They're in a better space but they're not fully healed. She just used his body like a jungle gym not long ago. One he was more than happy to be, but it did make things messier.... So this is a fair reply from him. Following it up with her taking the Sergeants exam. Which is his way of saying he hopes that gives him another crack at winning her back. Angela picks up on this of course. Implying as such in her reply.

Being our on screen shipper saying 'So you two can get back together?' I love her so much. Tim denies it at first. Saying it's good for her career. I mean it is but it is also good for you two and this bloody chain of command issue. Tim letting her know it has come up though.....Angela ask if she can offer a little advice? I was so excited about this for couple reasons. One another square down for my bingo card haha Two. I just really wanted a scene like this. Angela telling him like it is about Lucy. He is far more receptive than he's ever been. Even if he is sassy in his reply above.

The giving season continues on with Angela's spot on advice. Crushing it on all fronts in her guidance. Putting everything on the table since they're talking about it. Starting off with Lucy was (and still is) the best thing that's ever happened to him. FACTS. Just straight FACTS to begin with. The advice is to come. But I love her saying this to start with. We've known this for a very long time. But it is nice to hear it on screen. Just like everything else this season. It's so very satisfying to watch that become cannon. Angela watched over the years the positive impact Lucy has had on her friend. The amazing woman she's become. How happy she made him when they were together. Watched the change in Tim due to her. It had to be said.

She kicked this speech off strong and I was cheering her on. Angela soldiers forward letting him know if he is lucky enough to win her back after ALL he put her though. And as we all know far too painfully well, what he put her through was nothing short of hell. God it was hell on earth for us as well. Idk even with my previous ship I adored I felt as much agony as 6x06 made me feel. I love Angela recognizing that. I really do .She may have no idea the details but she knows the turmoil he thrust upon her with their breakup. The magnitude of it wasn't lost on her. I adore Tim nodding along with all of this. The Tim he is now, the more healed, more grounded one, knows exactly what Angela’s throwing down right now. I love that this is something that is brought up a lot. The severity of what he did doesn't fade. It's ever present.

He isn't shying away from it though. Post-therapy, there’s no one more aware of the damage he inflicted on her than Tim. I love Angela calling him on it and he is in absolute agreeance. No fight whatsoever. Her follow up to that is utter perfection. That he should be on his knees every night, praying in gratitude if he’s lucky enough to get her back. Yes he should be. GOD I LOVE THIS WOMAN. Ain't no one gonna tell him straight like his bestie will. Tim understands the assignment. You can see it when he says 'Understood.' All that’s left is the convo and Lucy's forgiveness at this point. Feel like everything else is in place IMO. We are so close I can feel it.

I admire Lucy apologizing here. I would do the same thing. The guilt would be eating me up. I would want to address the elephant in the room as well. I can't sit on things. I have to talk about them or they'll suffocate me. Lucy doing this is for Celina is just the best.

It's like this episode was trying to remind me why I love Lucy Chen so much. I already knew but I don't hate the reminders. I just adore her having the foresight to know it probably upset Celina. To nip that in the bud before they really dig into this investigation. Adore this woman. Safe to say I might be a little in love with Lucy Chen too haha

I was kinda hoping they’d have a case like this living together I will say. So having them team up like this was exciting to watch. Celina thanking her is everything. She knows what balls it took for Lucy to own up to listening to that podcast. To be vulnerable and confront it like she did. I love their bond it's so sweet. I'm sure it's something Celina NEEDED to hear but would've never asked of Lucy. That's what makes the moment so impactful and special IMO. I love their friendship so very much.

This entire sequence put me on edge in the best way. It was so good. The way they teamed up and saved this girl and child. Also Lucy Chen you are an absolute BAMF. That almost doesn't seem like enough of a word for her. Holy Hell. Do you see how she flew through that window and was immediately ready to negotiate?

Gun drawn ready to talk this unstable person down? I am in awe of her Fandom. Doesn't hesitate to pull that trigger when its warranted. To save that little babies life. To think you doubted you were a bad ass in 7x11 Lucy. SMH. Bailey should be the one metaphorically holding the beer now LOL If only she could see herself the way we all saw her. Goodness she is impressive.

Look at Lucy comforting Celina. Knowing right away this must be upsetting for her. How could it not be? They got to have the ending she was robbed of. I’m sure this is striking a deep chord within her. Lucy is making sure she is ok. Letting her know it's ok if she isn't ok.

I love that so much. When you don’t get any validation growing up, it’s such a blessing to find people who do that for you. Validate your feelings. Not only that but letting you know sometimes it's ok not to be ok. I can't explain how this hit just right.

I loved Lucy being that friend in this moment for her. Something very healing about receiving it. You can see Celina wants to cry after she say this. She've given her the space to not be ok with this. It's lovely. This scene got me square in the heart I will say. What a good episode for them both. Holy cow. Lucy spots her person waiting for her and feels the siren call of him. Letting Celina know she is going to be right back. That when she is she'll take her home.

Have to get some Feral Caitlin out before we start on this hug. Mmmm god Tim showing up looking like a god damn snack. Just look at him above when he arrives. Badge showing, tight red shirt, and jeans. Lord have mercy. This man will be the death of me in the best way.... I love him coming to check on her right away. Clearly hearing she had to shoot that crazy woman. His first priority is her. She’s the first thing on his mind and the first place he runs to.

I cannot with how much I love this. Adore that Tim is the one to initiate this hug. Transparent Tim continues to make me happy beyond belief. Doesn't ask if she needs a hug. Just engulfs her in his arms, the moment she is close enough for him to scoop her up. Lucy easily folds into him. Like the perfect puzzle piece she always is in their hugs. Just locking into place like it's where she should always be. Look at her above It's the first time she's been allowed to fall apart a little.

The little happy grunt she does once she's in his arms. *screams* The look of absolute relief that he is there is getting me emotional af. Like she can breathe a little knowing he’s there. Tim happy to be the one to hold her up if only for a brief moment. Also can we talk about where her hands are and where she slowly withdraws them? So intimately placed…my goodness. Tim trying to make a joke to get her to smile. It doesn't land like he wants with her defeated reply. So he just nods being whatever she needs in this moment.

I adore Lucy being open with him about how she’s feeling. That logically she can understand how someone could be that broken. But emotionally? She is wrecked and upset. Hell I am too. That whole scene was disturbing to watch unfold. I love that she leans into him emotionally when something is upsetting and hurts. Just like old times. We all know It’s how she makes sense of things by talking them out. Lucy knows he’s steady enough of a pillar to work it out with her.

That she feels safe enough to do that with him constantly now. Look at how we started this season. She wouldn't talk to him about Seth and her initials issues. Now look at her. It’s been a slow, steady kind of healing and there’s something so beautiful in that. How naturally it's come without being rushed. I commend the writers so much this year for it's pace. The maturity of it all has blown me away.

Now Tim just screaming his feelings once again in his reply. Concern pouring out of him. The relief in his eyes knowing she’s ok is glorious. To him at the end of the day Lucy being ok is more important to him than anything else. He conveys as much to her. This man isn’t going to waste a single moment with her without making sure she knows how much she matters to him. Keep showing up for her Tim. I know I have said that a lot but it's working. His consistency in moments like this are paramount to building toward their reconciliation and that talk.

It's sweet she is leaning on him a second time here. Asking if it was ok if she didn't come to the game later? Needing his reassurance to take care of herself. He gladly gives her it. The way he builds her up before saying he’s got her back I cannot. That is his speciality this year. Building his girl up when she needs him the most. Love me some s7 Tim fandom. I loved this man before; but God almighty, he has leveled up this year and I love him even more, if that’s possible.

I adore him listing all the ways she's earned her break. The reverence in his tone as he explains all the reasons she deserves to go rest. The man doesn’t need extra reasons to be so gone for her, but she just keeps stacking them up with badass moments like this. Also we got to see a little protective Tim coming out in his reply. He wouldn’t hesitate to destroy anyone who tried to give him crap about her missing it. Little bit of feral Tim comes out and he stops himself. And just says he’ll fill them in.

You watch him take a beat before he says it. Then finishes with 'I'll fill them in.' When really he’s wants to rip them a new asshole if they say anything. But refrains from saying as such ha Like to note the way Lucy looks at him adoringly as he answers the phone. The heart eyes are real. She didn’t decompress until her person arrived. Just being strong for Celina then he showed up and she could fall apart a little. *happy sigh* His sweet touch before he has to go has my shipper heart all happy. Gah I love them.

There is literally no purpose to this gif other than the sinfully delicious man above. Just flexing those sexy forearms as they prep. Tim Bradford is a full-blown thirst trap, and I’ve never been so dehydrated. The thirst is very real. Something about Field Tim and street clothes has me extra feral. haha *fans self*

I will say I loved Angela being the one to take Malvado down. Just like Lucy doesn't hesitate to do what must be done. After he kicked Tim and Nolan's ass....

Before she leaves she mentions the thing that's been bugging me this entire SL. Who is the person that contacted Tim? Is there any significance in him being chosen? Or was it just random? My gut just isn't sitting well with Tim being the chosen one to receive the news. So who this is? I guess that’s still TBD.... For now. I might be overreacting like I stated earlier. Simply because it's Tim who was the target to start the case. Like I said if it was Nolan I wouldn't bat an eye.

Could be mean nothing but we're headed toward the end of season.... So I'm a little on edge bout finale implications. I could be completely wrong and this has zero to do with Tim. Could have no connection to him at all. This could be another Monica fueled plan to get more players off the board.

And while that might not be him directly. If true doesn't mean he wouldn't be collateral damage in it all. Especially if this person wants revenge for being revealed and told him as much. My anxiety was cranked for this and I can't explain why. All I do know is we are not done with this whatever it is. And that's what makes me nervous. I don't have answers lol and that's ok shall see how this ends up playing out.

Tis Entire game was adorable and I loved it. As Giants fan And Eli Manning being the brother I love more I adored Cooper Manning being in this ep. That was amazing haha Also Angela trying to bribe Wes was everything LOL Nolan's face was funny in reply. Also it was pot shot at the refs from last season in the NFL I'm dying. IFYYK. Won't say no to Sports Tim in my fav color rocking a black eye. Idk why that does it for me. But honestly anything about this man does it for me let's be honest. haha Was a light and fun way to end the ep.

Next week looks GOOOOOD. I know the documentary eps aren't always well received. But I always have a soft spot for them. They're usually hilarious and more importantly produce excellent Chenford content. They're being interviewed together for it too. So I am ready for whatever goodies we get in this episode. May even get a more open Tim than we've ever seen with these. Especially if the topic of Lucy is brought up and or their relationship. It's a bummer about Abagail. I do love all the s2 tie backs this season. Rachel and Now her.

Thank you forever and always to my readers. Your likes, comments ( love chatting bout the season come chat) and reblogs fuel me. These are a fun thing I get to do for my happy place and you all make that possible so thank you. Shall see you all 7x15 :)

~~~~

Side notes-Non Chenford

Idk why hearing Eric’s voice say “previously on the rookie.” Brings me so much joy but it does LOL

Poor Nyla…I hope their meetings gain more traction in the future. Nice to see her and James in a better place it seems.

Omg these videos….I can't believe thats what they watched lol

Same day delivery for the win. Gah I miss same day delivery. Where I am now does not have it LOL I was very spoiled where I was before. Lived near a hub No where near one now...

God John’s view is stunning always blows me away when we're at his house. Legit distracts me in his house haha

Didn’t mind the FBI insert this ep. Maybe it’s the others I can’t stand LOL she’s pretty solid addition if we’re gonna have them.

So proud of Miles and his video. Love this kid. I love him using the game to get Tim to do the videos. I love him hahah well done sir. Also we better see dem videos.

[storkmuffin]

Don't you think it's strange how members treat Mingi sometimes? Like it might be something in my head, but several times I saw them making jokes with the mingi and him seemed extremely uncomfortable.

I know they love each other (and this is obvious), but sometimes I find the jokes very strange. It could be something in my head, so I'd like to know your opinion too.

( sorry english is not my first language )

Hi! First of all, English isn't my first language either, so let us shake hands and congratulate each other on how well we use it.

I think you might be referring to the ways Mingi gets teased both on stage and in their reality content, right? If not, pls do send a follow up and let me know what you meant. To answer the question: I don't know which jokes you mean, but I have to confess I haven't found any of them strange. I think maybe ?? you have a special tenderness for Mingi that I don't have (I don't feel especially tender about any of them, tbf) so we're probably just looking at the same content with different lenses. But I say again - if you have a specific moment you want to discuss I'd be very interested in hearing what that is.

Ateez is to me a very masculine group. Their sound, their dance moves, the swagger, the willingness to get down and dirty (in the very restrained Kpop way of doing that, but still), the intense competition, the fact that the company keeps setting up content where they kill and defeat each other FOR FUNSIES- this is all very manly man, bordering on macho dynamics to me. As a woman who lives in a very homosocial life, I have seen from the sidelines that for Korean men, the ability to withstand an emotional gut punch, the occasional public humiliation, and other violence is important in order to 'belong' in all male social circles. If you pull similar moves on a woman as a woman, you're going to be ostracized. The rules are different. So to a certain extent, they're always ribbing each other and 'joshing' each other. I saw this in a movie with Gwyneth Paltrow once - where she asks why when men play, they always play at killing each other? This movie was set in the 1950s and had 100% white americans speaking english to each other, so I dont think this is purely a Korean phenomenon either.

Secondly, because they have Wooyoung, San, Hongjoong, Jongho and Yunho in the group, Ateez prioritizes some hard to meet standards: Speaking without ever stumbling or choosing the wrong word during a very long shoot day. Being fast and sharp with a quip. Absolutely never letting any mistake go by unremarked, and never forgetting any error anyone else has made. Having perfectly alert and calibrated social skills.

Third, this particular group of young men are HYPER competitive.

So that's happening in the group as their on-going dynamic.

Then there's the Mingi factor. Mingi has immense star quality. He's super confident. He's got that thing that some performers have where he gets on stage and the spirit descends and nothing and nobody can stop him. He's so powerful. He either was born with or developed the skill of working a stadium up to fever pitch when none of the rest of them can do that on their own yet. He also is one of only two members who have so far demonstrated the capacity to produce his own music. He doesn't just contribute lyrics, he's a lyricist. He got the Calvin Klein shoot which is the Grade A stamp of approval for being a beautiful, desirable man.

And at the same time, he's also deeply weird and offbeat, very much distracted by his own thoughts until you force him to pay attention, and even then he's got something pulling at him so he's not entirely present. And he's kind. He just seems very accepting, well disposed to people, and happy to be included. He's also emotionally very transparent, too.

Mingi himself seems to acknowledge that his 'on' persona and 'off' persona are very different - he's so articulate and fast-talking when a rapper, and then when he's 'off' he mumbles and says odd things and can't finish sentences nor read off a cue card without falling apart and making the bit 'die.' This makes him a delicious (sorry I'm Yunho coded) target for teasing - he provides so much material for such teasing, for one, and for another, he seems/is deeply kind so he won't go on some sort of warpath if you overstep, and third, this big beautiful handsome guy reacts like a little kid when something goes wrong and it's just so funny and cute. I think Mingi also has a sense of humor about himself as well as a very dry acceptance of the fact that he is imperfect (Yunho has ZERO acceptance of this by the way), so if a bit is funny and he looks a bit silly, he's like, well that's life.

I think on the whole his ability to take it on the chin and smile about it and move on is also really helpful in cementing the parasocial adoration his particular stans have for him, and it does make him look like the good guy (Wooyoung by contrast willingly plays the villain a lot and Hongjoong who is actually quite funny and playful, is willing to be the strict boring dad, so they all make a certain amount of sacrifices for the content).

I hope this answers your question??

[waitineedaname]

Came here because of your FMA Post-Canon GreedLing series and now I want to read/watch/idfk what this is SVSSS now. You've infected me and now I need to do research

YESSS READ MY SICKOS NOVEL!!

my very basic pitch: SVSSS is Scum Villain's Self-Saving System, a Chinese transmigration novel! the premise is that Shen Yuan is the #1 anti-fan of a trashy stallion novel -- he likes the monsters and the little crumbs of plot and loves the protagonist, but fucking hates literally everything else about it. when he finishes it, he's so overcome with rage about the ending that it literally kills him, and his dying thoughts are "dumbfuck author, dumbfuck novel." much to his surprise, he wakes up as the central villain of that novel with a transmigration system essentially telling him "you think you can do better? just fucking try it buddy"

it's a hilarious series, and a very quick read! the characters are really fun, the two main characters are completely deranged (a classic example of "I can fix him" *makes him worse*), and the balance between ridiculous humor and genuine emotion is excellent. also, as a loving satire of stallion novels/BL novels/webnovels in general, it has a lot of interesting things to say about the tropes embedded in those stories, as well as interesting things to say about being a writer and being a reader!

there are official print translations in English, so I recommend checking out your local library/bookstores, but if that doesn't work for you, it's also available on the Internet Archive and Anna's Archive! it's fairly short, only four books (three for the main plot + fourth book of plot-relevant extras)

enjoy!!

[writingmochi]

lissie: hello subi! i get to finally reply to your review hehe so sorry for the delay. i'll try my best to reply every paragraph. it might as long as yours so i'm gonna put it below "read more"...

in a way, i write it to be more nostalgic but it does feel bittersweet too. there are nuances when it comes to being a kpop idol, of course, with the whole dancing-singing-rapping aspects of it. riki came from a place of dance, but then he is thrust into the world where he is also have to indulge in music deeper than just a tool for his dancing. that's why he got reminded of that music project: a further imagination of actually making a realisation of the band with his best friends. it also shows how riki feels his friends complete him and how he copes with that incompleteness by thinking about the what ifs because he will go to korea alone and have to stand alone to actually debut as an idol...

ahh no worries! me too~ i have a phase where i only write and only read to write reviews. and i am currently in an only-write phase so i have no desire to write reviews to actually focus on my brainpower with my writing. i have never felt this energised with writing since 2021-2022 where i'm posting time wave nearly monthly. thank you for taking your time with though.

gosh, i know that must hit different for you because you are experiencing the same thing. even if that time has past for me, it still left a mark in my brain because i also usually compare myself to other people's accomplishments in my age.

omg omg nice of you to tell that it is worth it. i am glad.

well... there is a romantic aspect between mc and riki, but i made that reference so that only the japanese know. it's something that my japanese friend told me when i consulted with her about the culture of it all...

do you remember the button riki gave to mc before he left? that button holds significance because it is a tradition with japanese graduations where the boy gives his second button to the girl that he has a crush on. the reason why it is the second button from the top is because it is the closest to the heart and it is considered as a memento. so, with that said, riki giving mc his second button tells her that he has a crush on her implicitly, and that's why mc reacts in surprise.

but there's also nothing wrong with mixed-gender friends, ya know? i have a tyunkai fic about that that i still have to finish. i just want the romantic aspect of it to be not so on-the-nose...

when i was finishing the fic, i watched a kore-eda movie nobody knows (that made laurel hell be as dramatic as it also is in a way) and because of the similar-esque setting, i try to elongated the scenes of it all because i have to fill in context while also setting it in the present of the fic. the little scenes i think show the humanity of it all and how people close to you sometimes catch on to what you do (which i will elaborate in the video post hehe)

i inserted myself into a bit of reader's choice as someone who has many what ifs about my major, especially after my study exchange to the uk where i learn things outside of my major at my home country. i realised that the learning process is everlasting until one's death, and rather than sulk on the wrong choice, think of it as it added more of your understanding and completes you more. it is also inspired by a bunch of my friends who went to art school/art major and how they can actually fall out of love with their art. so, i do think mc is very mature in her choice of major: learning something insightful while also balance her hobbies cause the door doesn't automatically close even when she picked another choice.

yeah, this is also a coping mechanism for me as a covid graduate from high school. will definitely elaborate that in the tyunkai fic. but, i do see this more as an alternate universe if niki doesn't let go his teen years to pursue being an idol in korea and he makes that choice later. many idols don't pursue their mandatory education as necessary anymore even though i do believe high school, secondary school, gymnasium, or and other terms of those are still important. it is more beneficial in the long run because idol/celebrity life is fickle when you have many competitors and to make yourself remain in the minds of people.

i had hoped that people like niki or those idols who debuted young could still living the teen life and finish their education first before debuting, no matter if they are already a trainee or not. i will always advocate age-appropriate concept on idols as a coping mechanism for me seeing niki being portrayed in a sexy way alongside enhypen when he was still a minor. because i couldn't even comprehend the mental state you recieve there.

even though i'm nearing the end of my uni (undergraduate) years, that transition part still remains a key part in my life. i made huge life choices such as getting rid of my social media and, heck, even starting to write again on this blog because of that transition period. i just hope that this fic can tell you that you are not alone on this and maybe, one day, you can reach what you want, no matter how many and complicated it is.

that part you highlighted is a pretty clear reference of the song, besok mungkin kita sampai, and i just also see it as a motivation for myself to not give up genuinely. that even if people around us seems to move or reached their destination first, you are also moving to find yours. and you will reach there someday.

once again, thank you so so much for the long-ass review and i'm glad that the fic resonates with you~

cast: trainee!niki ✗ seatmate!fem.reader (ft. &team's taki (takayama riki), p1harmony's soul (haku shota), niziu's nina (makino nina), and xg's cocona (akiyama kokona))

synopsis: graduation is such a melancholic concept, happy to finally be able to escape school, but sad that people will separate to their own road. it is no different for riki. on his graduation day, he spends one last day with his seatmate of three years before he pursues his career across the sea

genre: melancholia, hurt/comfort, coming of age, slice of life, trainee au, high school au, fluff, angst

based on: music hindia's "besok mungkin kita sampai" (2019) (genre: indie pop)

word count: 13011 (13k)

warning(s): blood, some curse words, mention of bruises, pretty heavy life stuff even for a high school age

message to the moon: remember that this story is fiction and do be careful and read the warnings at the top. all the idols mentioned here are not what they are in real life. (y/f/n) = your full name!

i had to open up my japan 2020 trip memories to remember the whole atmosphere + adding a bit of my knowledge and experiences too. i have to post this in april since it is the right momentum for it and riki’s graduating class is THIS YEAR! i wanna thank @oiwxa for her insight into a japanese high school graduation and its rituals (especially since you rb the og riki as a regular hs student hc like that is very useful) and my friends who indulge in japanese culture for helping with additional insights :D this is also part of my milestone now closed collab "discover: 200" which you can check out! hope you enjoy!

masterlist

what does one think about when they hear the word “foam”?

a child will imagine a white porcelain bathtub, the one they are sitting in with most of their seated body underneath the water that fills from the bottom of the tub. bubbles made from the mix of the running water and the poured liquid soap to create a magical concoction of science. more and more fill the tub until it overflows and splashes outside, landing on the tiled floor. one can pick up childish giggles as the bubbles caress the skin before it pops, creating a ring of soap on the skin nearest to it. one could imagine their parent beside them following their giggles, helping wash them up after playing in a grassy park and falling on the dirt patch chasing a squirrel. but the child was having too much fun trying to make their hair stand up from their scalp to care about the suds that clean away the dust and soil.

a person who visits a beach will be reminded of the white foam that flows to the coast, pushed by the tides to escape the blue waters. froths created from the combination of nature’s rhythm on the breaking of seawater and dissolving salt or tiny planktons. one can walk to the edge where the land meets the sea and meet the foams by themselves, letting their leg submerged into the wet sand before the incoming wave tries to push you away with its natural force. the water tickles above the ankle as foam created from the physics of it before receding into the ocean along with more grains of sand. the image of it pairs with the familiar crunchy sound of the waves that instantly show up in the head and from the popping of the tiny bubbles.

for riki, it was both of them and one more.

his hand is full of white fluffy foam. the boy's eyes stare at it before turning to the mirror in front of him. he sees the visual of a makeshift white full beard made from the tiny bubbles on the surface of his skin, all of them spread out to the jaw, cheeks, and even around the top of his neck, making him look like a younger version of father christmas if he ever goes to meet the children in spring—a season too late for the tradition and years too old for him as he knew about the truth of his parents being the “mythical man” that gave him gifts by the bed. the boy opens the tap.

the water runs down and cleans his hands, letting the residue drain down the hole before he picks up the item that he’s been learning and still is learning to adapt to at his age. the shaving razor he had that is in the same color as his toothbrush.

the razor glints under the lights beside the mirror. his hand grips its handle, following the steps his father had taught him. the older man told his child that facial hair grows in different ways depending on where they’re located, and how he has to shave it the other way for the most efficient result.

“if it’s on the cheek, then you have to shave it diagonally downwards to the corner of the lips. if it’s above the upper lip, then you have to shave it outwards from beneath both nostrils.”

riki recollects the words accurately as he imagines the visual vividly. how he can see himself in the mirror as his father when the boy remembers he stood beside him, a razor in his own hands as he teaches his son how to shave the facial hair he might not want to own—right in front of the same mirror he stood across now.

shaving your own facial hair seems to be a rite of passage for a boy who is nearing the end of his puberty days. their growing plates are still growing as riki still remembers how he was slightly shorter than his father when he was taught his first lesson in shaving facial hair. now he is taller than his father, either from how many times he has to jump along with the moves of a choreography or run along with a rolling ball on a grassy field.

riki can definitely feel and see the difference. his lanky body now shows more prominent muscles from the physical activities he does, notably his bigger calves from moving on his feet so much. the baby fat on his face has burned enough that his bone structure sticks out as he notices the apples of his cheekbone protruding on his facial features. his voice also deepens as he can still remember how itchy it is, dropping step by step until he can perceive the vibration of his neck’s skin from the moving larynx; a voice that screams baritone or bass, even reaching vocal fry level if he wants to learn the technique.

all of that happens in the three years of high school. if middle school him could witness him now, he wouldn’t believe that that is what he’s going to look like. so many things happened in the past three years that month by month—even day by day—he can feel himself changing physically and mentally.

and today, his three-year journey in high school ends. his graduation day from being a high school student. also, his last day home before pursuing his dream in seoul, south korea.

riki has always been an active kid, but there are two constants throughout his activities in his 18 years on earth: soccer and dancing. one may look at both of them differently, but he has always found a resemblance between the two. the agility of dancing helps control the ball if it’s in his possession. the stamina training he had done to run from one side of the field to another helped him practice longer, thus making him learn the choreographies faster than the other kids.

his hopes and dreams are tied between the two of them. he even wants to continue it to his adult. many of the kids were always asked “what you’ll be when you grow up?” and their answers will be different years later. yet, riki’s stayed the same. always between the two of them.

but he has to choose one to pursue even further, to focus on even in the hardest times he might get in his life.

after seeing korean idols on stage performing in front of thousands of people, he chose to dance. he wants to be like them one day.

yet, that doesn’t mean he’ll let go of soccer that easily.

soccer is still there for riki as a hobby. but he decides to push his dream of being a soccer player behind to train more for his dancing: learning between the street dances and contemporary ones he is still lacking in, yet determined to improve on. it sacrificed him hours of rest time to nail each of the basics in each study, peaking his figure to one of an all-rounder dancer who learned multiple branches of the certain performing arts.

his fruit of labor comes at the right time and moment when he joins an open audition for a big label in south korea that is hosted near here. riki rubs his hand on his pants as he sees a tv playing in the waiting room of a live performance he watched with his own eyes. his figure between all the visible moving lightsticks that decorated the arena, resembling a starry night. they all gave their best to show their craft on stage where people had encouraged them so much to achieve their dreams until that level. it tugs little riki so hard on his heartstrings that he can’t think of his other activities that can bring him the same sense of joy and pride at the same time. soccer seems to be the nearest one but what if he falls out of love and wants to retire early? being a performer means he could also explore other avenues of performing arts if he wants to experiment. though there is a school for it, art is the outlet for human creativity. and each person has their own way of interpreting what they want.

the audition process was nerve-wracking for him; fear flew and crowded the room as riki saw the people he had to compete with. getting tunnel vision from his anxious self, all he could think about when seeing them was how better they were compared to himself. even the lone camera on a tripod makes him nervous as he knows the implications of the recordings being sent to the highest of the higher-ups who have the choice to make his life change forever. as the person before him steps aside, he takes their place and introduces himself like what he practiced. the words flowing out of his mouth smoothly before he let his mind back to when he was alone in the dance studio he called his second home: his actual home is the first and the school’s soccer field is his third.

the fluidity of his body lets him perform the routine he practiced countless times, a routine he trained with his dancing coach that highlights his greatest strengths in performing arts. riki feels how his eyes droop down, letting his movements and muscle memories do the work for him, something he allows as he has been practicing with the lights out.

“when you lose one of your senses, another sense grows to complement it,” his coach reminded him.

riki didn’t even break a sweat when he listened to the unfamiliar song. he just freestyle danced to the rhythm as best as he could to the song he used as a lesson. one has a faster bpm than the other, so he has to adapt with how many milliseconds he has to let his arm stay in the air. in his consciousness, he is confused as to why none of the judges stopped him like the other contestants. many of them were better but stopped earlier that they didn’t even reach the end of the choruses for songs, making his eyes tremble more behind his eyelids. yet, he continued until something stopped him. well, the music does as it fades away.

the process was rigorous when he had to sing and do body shots in another room—alone from the other contestants with people he assumes are higher in the recruitment process. when the papers of the contracts were placed in front of riki, he was halfway through his high school career. a contract to be a trainee in south korea, the place where the performers he saw reside. the headquarters of the leading asian pop culture in the world. riki has to be there to feel it himself.

he had his mom beside him as she read through the contract, a small smile on her face as she tried to understand the best of the contract with the formal and legal lingo that is used alongside the translator they hire for this and her family member who is a lawyer. he had already met up with the trainers before—the judges he auditioned to and more through video calls—and they agreed that riki has the potential to be something more.

he signed the paper that seals the next chapter of his life, agreeing to move to korea when high school ends.

riki returns to the mirror when his hand is unconsciously shaving the foamy area; following a set routine of the parts he has to shave and what section is next. that’s when he sees the thin foam turn pink. eyebrows raised, the sting comes too late as the soapy substance meets his open wound. he instantly flipped the tap open and cupped the water in his palms, brushing the soap substance away as fast as he could, gritting his teeth when he felt the cold liquid caressing his skin. blood flows along with the water as he smoothes the skin down, not recognizing any more slippery base substance when he gently dries his wet area. turning his face, he sees the long thin slit on his clean cheek, right under his cheekbone and going horizontal above the jawline, almost like a secondary of it. the razor he holds is placed under the running water when he sees the translucent crimson color flow down the drain hole.

placing the razor away, he opens the cabinet door for the first aid kit he had always picked up. being such an active kid doesn’t mean that he is immune to injuries. open or close wounded, he has scars of his injuries all around his body. the nasty scar on his right kneecap from when he tripped on himself while playing soccer on an asphalt road, bruises on his forearm from when he slammed himself too hard on the dance studio’s floor, and many more. he once feared that red color flowing on his skin layer, but seeing it so much and its purple-ish-blue companion, he throws that fear away and lets it sink into the ocean that is just a walking distance from his abode.

the first aid kit is filled with the most essential items riki uses to heal himself. his mom always told him to treat his injuries as soon as possible so no nasty virus or bacteria could infiltrate the atoms that encompass his functioning body and destroy it from the inside. and make him worse instead. he always thought the scars he got litter on his skin would disappear one day. time goes on as it denies his assumption. he learned this from biology class where the teacher mentions that the cell tissues of skin cannot get rid of scars because the injuries are being repaired by the same cells that create a scar. the cells in those areas are ever-healing; never going to stop healing because it has been injured before.

another scar to tell, i guess. he sighs as he dabs the wound with the red-brownish antiseptic on cotton all along the opening before he grabs the bandage and sticks it on the wound. pressing it down gently, the bandage nearly blends in with his skin color as it creates an abnormal diagonal patch on his somewhat clean yet acne-scar-filled skin. a minor bump rising because of the white pad on the sticky side. brushing his black hair away from its place that fallen on his forehead, he closes the distinct naruto-themed bag of his first aid kit and brings it to his room.

the navy graphic t-shirt he wore has droplets from the water but not of the blood from the small rectangle mirror sticking on his wall. on his bed lays the final piece of his gakuran as he picks up the suit jacket. riki pushes the golden buttons through the holes in an order, leaving the last button open right at the top so that he looks cooler—and so that he doesn’t get easily choked. his eyes scan his nearly clean room where items are still cluttered here and there. that is until he sees the large suitcase at the leg part of his bed. all the clothes and essentials he has packed to be used in korea are already in there. his flight is tomorrow morning; flying from haneda airport. the open duffel bag of his is still on his bed as he puts the naruto-themed first aid kit inside.

“riki!”

“yes?” his hand on his chest from the surprise calling of his name passing by the barrier of the wall.

“we have to go. we don’t want to be late.” his mom’s voice calls from outside the room. the boy lets the bag rest on the mattress before he picks up his trusty backpack and saunters to the door of his room and opens it, seeing his mom cleaning the dishes and dad slurping on a cup of ramen on the small dining table after leaning almost half of his body. both of them are in an outfit he isn’t used to seeing. only in times of graduations, weddings, or funerals.

“i made one for you.” riki followed his mom’s eyesight to the steaming cup of ramen across from his dad. “your sister has left for school earlier, but you don’t want to be late for your assembly.”

the boy’s long legs reach the seat where the cup of ramen is. its familiar smell enters riki’s senses as he picks up the folding plastic fork and scrumptiously enjoys the hot noodles. he felt the tangled noodle warming up his esophagus while his dad was pouring a glass of water from the pitcher on the table. as riki looked at his dad, he could see himself in him. his dad’s feline-like eyes—combined with his mom’s—make riki’s signature aggressive-looking eyes, like a leopard ready to pounce on its prey. his sisters are also like him but softer as how biology designs feminine features. but, all of them didn’t expect riki’s growth to spurt as he entered high school. he definitely thanked his genetics but also the nutritious homemade food mom made for him full of the omega-3 of fish and the glutinous yet small grains of cooked white rice.

the sunlight enters through the window of the dining and kitchen area where he sees a small garden that is full of little plants and flowers. the beam highlights the light brown of the wood from the last time his family renovated the house fully. small, quaint, yet architecturally smart; with hidden compartments for storage and changing furniture. he can describe his newly renovated home as one of the best things japanese architecture offers. his father learns so much about architectural innovation from watching renovation shows while his mom has the say in interior designing—picking the type of wood to use, placement of the furniture, and others. his new room became his favorite place in the world, with the floor-to-ceiling cabinet and wardrobe combo to put his childhood things he couldn’t bear to let go. though small, he’ll miss his room and the window that overlooks the small one-lane road filled with houses of neighbors he knows.

his nimble fingers expertly pick up the narutomaki along with the noodles from his seafood cup noodles with his chopsticks. the orange-reddish broth colors the inside of the cup as he stares at his phone, scrolling down the news of his favorite player transferring teams—a player exchange that costs millions of US dollars, a japanese player. the player was pretty new for his time, but riki can relate to him so much as the player enters such a big league at such a young age. in a way, riki lives his soccer player dreams vicariously through him. now, as he sees the familiar name transferring from playing in the Premier League to La Liga, his lips pursed as he can imagine the player playing in matches with the likes of many of the skilled players he idolizes in his life.

cupping the cup, he drinks the remaining broth as it warms his stomach, accidentally burping as his dad lets out a giggle in front of him. both of them wait for mom as she finishes up and walks to the shoe cabinet. riki picks up his beaten shoes—his favorite shoes since he bought them in his first year of high school. he remembers how his father agreed to pay him for the pair of shoes before realizing that it’s too big for his feet. yet now, his feet are grown to match their sizes, making them fit him perfectly. he uses those shoes all the time, especially for dancing and soccer. he wore the exact same pair of shoes when he auditioned. but now, he looked at its battered shape with seams ripping from the sole. nevertheless, he wore it to celebrate his and his shoes’ journey every day from when he went to school and the dance studio. riki rather see these shoes break because of his activities than never use them all because of their fragile state.

something he also has to let go like the life he has here to continue to live.

-

climbing up the last stair to the train platform, riki could see the coastline of the beach that is a five-minute walk from where he is. there’s a chugging sound of the moving train from the rails behind him going in the opposite direction of where he will go. behind the curtains of the three and more story high-rises, he can see the light yellow patch of the beach before gliding his eyes to a long grey platform of the small harbour. even with the distance, he can hear the sound of the crashing wave meeting the land. his eyes slowly relax as he stares at the neighborhood and city he calls home and the ocean in its background. the ultramarine spectrum healing his vision along with the lightly cloudy sky as specks of black dots are far at the edge of the horizon. the fishermen fishing for the catches to then be served in the most fresh condition possible in a large franchise sushi restaurant of a small mom-and-pop sashimi booth. the small taste of saltiness in the air because of how close he is to the source.

even with the small islands in his view, he still couldn’t believe that the body of water he was seeing was leading to the largest ocean on this blue rock. how the nearest landmass from japan is the united states with hawaii placed near the middle of the pacific. it always blew his mind whenever he realized how big the world is when he always saw the scaled-down version of it in a map app. he didn’t realize how big japan is when he realize that sapporo is near russia and the western and southern parts of okinawa is nearing taiwan or the phillipines. maybe, the vastness of the unknown world beside his city, the cities he visited, and the little buildings where people he knows do their activities is the one making him rub his palm on his pants so much.

the walk to the train station was short as he viewed people living their lives behind his parents’ footsteps on the clean sidewalk. entrances to office buildings opening one by one, the large signages of buildings that house pachinko machines stay idle as the mini convenience store below it shuts much of its fluorescent light after leaving it on for the night, and sparse numbers of motor vehicles running down the two-lane streets as bicycles are being dominated by workers. riki also found kids his age roaming the sidewalk to their nearest school. some of them wearing their uniforms just fine, while others were still shivering from the leftover winter wind—wearing puffy jackets to conceal them. he could recognize students from the neighboring schools just from the uniforms they were, some wore gakurans but others also used a more modern prep school uniform he has seen looking like the korean ones he found on the internet.

the sound of the distinct train station melody flies through the air as he watches the chugging commuter train on its way to the platform. his head stands out of the crowd as his height helps with easier detection when he identifies the small sliver of color that corresponds with the train line it is. from the outside, he catches a faded reflection of himself with a few people inside; people wearing masks to cover themselves from the flu because of pollen and the cold while others let their faces open as they can smell and inhale the clean spring air. the white LED lights illuminate the train car as he steps in—ducking his head cause he feels like he could slam into something hanging on the ceiling anytime. he turns to stare at himself from the glass’ reflection, how the corner of his mouth turn a bit downwards, which created a slightly intimidating frown. riki knows about what his friends call his resting bitch face, so he mostly gives a small thin smile after wetting his lips, which he did when he notices it on the reflection. his fingertips rubbing against each other to warm himself up before touching the backpack that is hanging by the straps to keep it safe in his arms.

the train is chugging down on the rail as the view outside moves with relativity. riki sees the familiar passing billboards he has seen time to time, changing its every advertisement from new ramen flavors to new animation movies to new j-pop album releases. yet the distinct enormous billboard hangs near a pedestrian crossing of a larger station that he always goes by. people walking about to their destination as the melody sounds every time the train stops at the station, spoken in both english and his native japanese. riki’s being is alert as the sound calls the name of the station near his school, eyes looking at the screen on top of the door as the train stops at another elevated station. the boy could sense how the train wobbled beneath him as he and the others stepped out of the cart. tapping his card at the gate, riki strides along the familiar pavements towards school.

approaching the building complex that has housed him for three years, riki sees the recognizable sailor uniform the girls wears—the same uniform hung outside of his room for his little sister to bring into her room—as he steps forward with every step. calls of names are spoken between one another as he walks closer, some are calling his name which he gives different greetings while others are gathered with each of their friends. in a cautious state of mind, his eyes scoured around to see the groups of parents crowding around their children; some stood up like skyscrapers compared to them. he sensed the bandage on his skin a bit heavier than before when he turned to face his dad, who was staring at him. mom is out of his sight as he watches his father’s hand caressing his injured cheek.

“from shaving…” riki replies after letting out a light hiss, widening his eyes so he wouldn’t turn away. his dad lets out a small giggle as he pats his cheek, making riki actually retreat and copying him with his own giggles. the smell of the distinct flowers and leaves crowds around him as the sakura petals fall down on the paved road of the school that is surrounded by cherry blossom trees. but different flower species are also showing up in the number of bouquets the graduating class has on their hands. the sakura pinks being the background contrast with the whites and yellows in the bouquets. that is when he found a single person who has purple flowers in their bouquet. lifting his head to see the owner’s, the corners of his lips rise just from identifying the familiar face.

you are clutching the ends of the bouquet your parents have surprised you with. your own backpack hangs on your shoulders as you hug your father, seeing a little red panda wearing a graduation cap on the top as your mother asks one of the parents to help capture the picture. posing in between your parents, you let out a wide smile as you hear the familiar clicking sound a few times before you drop from your tippy toes—something you always unconsciously do when taking a picture. you admire the way the white and purple flowers makes the bouquet looks grand yet still screams you—purple has always been and will be your primary color.

seeing the bouquet and the many students makes you wonder if your friends are here or not. you raise your head and chin up, curiously looking at the stream of students and parents gathering at the front of the gate and school buildings before the graduation ceremony begins. that’s when you see the familiar tall boy who was always sleeping on the table beside yours whenever both of you were in class.

“riki-chan.”

he can follow your mouth’s movement, grinning when he picks up even a small sample of your voice on the other side of where he is. your voice calls to him like a siren as he takes one step forward. that is when he felt a hand slapping his back as riki could already guess who it might be.

“shota! i almost choke.”

riki hears shota’s infamous giggle as he turns around, finding him with his eye smile as he wraps his arm behind the boy’s back, “come on, niki. don’t be so serious. we’re graduating today.”

“i know,” he replied. he wanted to return to your presence once again when he let his eyes squint and something flinch to grow on his lips. riki watches his father approaching him with his mother as he takes a peek at the yellow-flower-full bouquet she is holding, knowing that it will be for him as he sees his parents trying to conceal it—even though they failed by how flustered they are to see their son already has his eyes on them.

“ta-da!” his parents proclaimed as he saw the bouquet in close detail, seeing a few white petals scattering the bouquet as the yellow slowly became softer in his eyes. creating a more pastel yellow than the ones that shock his eyes with how bright the yellow is.

“thank you, mom and dad,” he replies as he carefully picks up the bouquet and cradles it in his arms. his father greets shota as he asks the boy questions on where his parents are while his mother finally notices the bandage on his cheek, hearing her clicking her tongue as she tries not to laugh at how clumsy her son was.

shota helped in taking photos for the family, even though his sister is there but it was so hard to reach her when she was already with her friends. he glances at the clock on top of his screen after seeing his chat with his younger sister when he realizes it’s almost time for the graduation ceremony. riki reminds his parents of where the parents will gather as he slowly places the bouquet under the care of his mother. waving and saying a “see you later”, he and shota go to the crowd where the graduating students are—dividing into each class crowd as he is letting the memories of the graduation ceremony replay in his mind from the rehearsals..

shota greeted most of the class students as riki stayed behind, letting the guy feel the fame once more as he couldn’t help but grin at seeing another boy in their usual circle of six—walking towards them with his own grin on his face.

“taki-chan.” riki calls for taki as he did their bro hug. his hand playfully ruffled his dyed locks as he commented, “you’ve already bleached your hair?”

“yes, let’s just say that it’s my graduation gift from my parents. i have to look stylish when i moved to germany for university. how about you, niki? why do you even have a bandage on your face?” taki playfully poked riki’s face as he turned his head, wanting to bite the finger like it was a clawing game for making him sense the reminder of the pain of the cut skin.

his circle of six has two rikis in them. so, to differentiate them, they use their first syllable from the last name as their new nickname during their high school: creating the unstoppable taki-niki duo. taki is also part of riki’s dance studio, but he’s doing it more as a hobby than a career like what riki is doing. shota, on the other hand, frequents the arcade during their high school times. in the nearest arcade from school, he has a high score in playing the arcade’s taiko no tatsujin; even having a pair of specialty gloves he said could help with the grip of the drumsticks. his love for rhythm gaming also shows in school when shota showed riki his device when he plays osu!—the game that successfully gets taki actually after he is numb to it by dancing to hip-hop and b-boying.

“there you guys are!”

the three boys all glanced to the side to find the three girls had completed their circle of six. kokona stands in the middle as he catches her pouting face with her hands on her waist; one part of her hair is already highlighted and even riki can notice she is wearing a slight faint of eyeliner on her eyes. beside her, he sees you with your wide eyes-small smile combo, and nina who is playing something on her phone.

kokona is the musician of the group—"a born-to-be musician" as she likes to call it—as riki has always found her making lyrics upon lyrics, from the most poem-like to outward disses as he knows she can beat him in a rap battle if he wants to. nina is the brains of the group. having mixed parents like shota makes her able to speak in four different languages, but she is also academically smart as she is always representing the school for a social science olympiad and she spearheaded the economics club in school. and, you. you are the artist of the group. every time riki meets you in class, you always have a manga on one side and your sketchbook on the other as you try to read and draw at the same time, making the characters in the manga you are reading on the sketchbook in your own art style.

riki is lucky to have his circle to be as creatively well-versed and supporting each other’s endeavors. they were the first ones to know that riki is now a trainee for a label in south korea. and they couldn’t have been more proud as shota even gifted him his old korean language 101 books for him to start his language learning early; even adding a few korean terms the boy learned from his mother as riki tried to familiarize himself with them.

his homeroom teacher, mister terada, reminds them to stand in line according to their last names instead of seatmates, making all six of you scattered as riki stands with a boy in front of him and a girl behind him. he could hear the coordinator’s voice slowly letting the classes in one by one into the hall where he has seen his parents are in—seating at the bleachers at the top that are lining around the open middle area. riki could sense his legs being numbed as he didn’t know how long he had to stand up when he felt your touch on his wrist as your line was beside his, holding him up as you let out a pout. when it’s his time to enter the hall, he basks in the large space to see the parents sitting in the bleachers surrounding the students. said students all sit at their assigned seats from the rehearsals as riki recalls his path when he'll be walking to the stage to get his diploma.

the assembly finally started and both the boy and girl beside him started to chuckle when he had to cover his mouth to let out a huge yawn. the tiredness of packing his stuff for his later flight last night got into him as he just wanted to be his class’ turn so he could get his diploma and maybe take a few minutes of a power nap. he could hear nina asking for him a few seats away, watching her discreetly pushing her hand out. he reached his own as he felt something on his curled palm. opening it up, he found a small wrapped mint candy that he recognized as a staple of nina's as their “awake pill”. the spicy mint taste makes his nerves alive and aware as he sees the first few classes already getting their diplomas. he had to remind himself of all the rehearsals he had done after the exam for the past two weeks—the correct place to stand while waiting in the line, the etiquette and who to shake hands with, and where you pose for your graduation photo.

riki graciously stands up and stretches his tired body from sitting too long as he walks to the path he had track with his eyes and is currently in the line awaiting his turn. he spots kokona already sitting down with her diploma and also shota who is walking to sit down on his seat. step by step as more and more names are being called, he is now one step away from the short flight of stairs to getting his diploma.

“nishimura riki.”

his name is called as he puts out a smile he has been learning while walking across the stage, bowing deep and shaking the hand of the principal before meeting mister terada who he gives another bow to before he receives the diploma with both of his hands. he turns towards the end of the stage and poses for the camera at the end before sitting down, looking up at the bleachers as he can catch his parents’ voices, cheering for him.

yet, for him. finally, it was time to get a nap as he awaited the last homeroom of his high school career.

-

thud.

thud.

thud.

that’s what riki picked up before he leaned down to grab his usual drink from the vending machine’s slot at the bottom. his backpack has been placed once again on his back after he met up with his parents when the assembly was done. he really had a pretty good nap before the boy beside him shook him to wake up when the ceremony comes to an end with the last hurrah from his juniors—seeing his younger sister too as riki chuckles when they both catch each other’s eyes. too many people were crowding the floor when the mc said it was over over, but he knew he will reunite with his friends once again after fulfilling the parchedness of his esophagus.

straightening his back, he felt the weight of the bouquet fall down and rested on the bottom of his bag alongside his diploma as he awaited for the final things to do here: cleaning up his shoe locker and one last meeting with the homeroom teacher about his career sheet. his parents had long gone home and he had already done the nearly complete family photo with his younger sister. riki glanced at the view behind him as he saw a few kids playing soccer in their 30-minute recess time—he could see himself in them as he either helped in attacking towards the goal or defending it against his friends. 30 minutes that seemed like a lifetime when he was there to feel it himself now appears so short as he sees it from an outsider’s perspective.

“boo!”

riki turns around in a whiplash, almost spilling his drink from the bottle before he pauses and calms himself to stare at you. your purple backpack sways alongside your own movement as you laughed—even making you nearly folded yourself to get a grip on your knees because he was too funny. your laughter dies down as flip your backpack around to put your diploma inside the main pocket.

“thought you’d be here,” you mumbled, pulling out your wallet from the bag as you approached the vending machine. the backpack hangs only on one shoulder as you plunge the coins in and press the button of the drink you want.

“you always get a drink when you’re sleepy.” you then added, making riki chuckle.

it’s a habit of his he had always overlooked but, somehow, you remember. once in class, he had been taking a huge nap during japanese history class as he let the thick textbook cover him. he had a very late practice session for a choreography because he hadn’t nailed each move—maybe because it was near the exam time or whatnot. yet, no one seems to wake him until the end of the period. lifting his head up groggily, he looks at his classmates who are eating or talking with each other. that shock coming from him made the thick book fall as he heard a snicker coming from one of the crowd. riki sheepishly smiled as he wanted to crouch down to grab the book when he finally noticed the light-colored soda on the edge between his and your desk. the brand is his favorite, yet he thought it might be yours. but with the way the bottle sits behind the line between yours and his desk, he knew that it must be for him as he unconsciously swallowed his saliva; picking up and cracking the bottle lid open as he sipped the soda before going to his usual hangout place with the rest of the six.

he picks up the familiar set of thuds as you lean down and grab your purchase—the same brand yet different flavors. he watches you as you playfully shake the bottle, seeing the foam forming from the chemical reaction as he remembers what you say: “i like the soda fizzy.” but it is also like you that you are not careful when you open the bottle, seeing the pastel-colored foam flowing out of the cracks and landed on the pavement before you instantly gulp nearly a third of the bottle.

you let out a huge aahhhhh as you felt the coldness of the soda trailing down into your stomach, looking behind the color-glazed bottle to catch riki with a small smile on his face, but no movement in his eyes, gazing at you—making blood flow towards your cheek.

“hello? riki-chan?” you waved your sticky soda-stained hands in front of riki’s face before he seemed to snap out of it. that’s when you finally notice the little bandage on his cheek, spread wide right underneath his eye and cheekbone.

“what happened?” you softly poke your finger against the bandage, making riki back off as he looks away, eyes moving so rapidly before he lets out a small smirk.

“pressed my shaving razor too hard. it bleeds, so… yeah. gotta have to be reminded of that whenever i see my graduation picture now,” he told you in such a nonchalant manner, making you let out your own chuckle.

“you look like those bad boys i’ve seen on high school animations… you just need your lollipop and done!” you tuck the closed soda bottle beneath your armpit right after you say that.

“aren’t i a bad boy, though?” he raised his eyebrows, mimicking those bad boys you described by poking the tip of his tongue towards the inside wall of his cheek—as if there is a lollipop there.

you scoffed, “you? nishimura riki? a bad boy? bah…”

laughter falls out of you because you can’t seem to see him in the bad boy role. sure, he being a former soccer player and a dancer makes him popular with other people. you remembered near valentine’s day this year that many girls—including your juniors—asked you about his favorite candy or chocolate brand and flavors so that they could give that to him. some even leave gifts to you so you can give them to them and you are obliged to give them because you don’t want to experience the wrath of a teenage girl; you know that feeling too much yourself. yet, riki seemed to be more nonchalant about that, dividing the chocolates into the rest of his circle and not really giving anything back on white day—except for giving you, nina, and koko-chan different popin’ cookin’ sets you recognize costs money.

maybe he is a bad boy after all because of that. but, to you, that is his charm. riki doesn’t seem to be someone who is trying to please what society asks of him. he should’ve felt proud to get so many gifts for valentine’s day, but he doesn’t, and he is not afraid to show it. he has this sense of agency in him to know of what he is seeking even at such a young age, and to him, it is dancing.

“we don’t want to be late.” you get a last glance at him when he nods his head, brushing his bangs away from his forehead as he leads the way toward the locker area.

riki views some students replacing their outside shoes with their indoor slippers as he had done the same, tucking in his battered-up shoes inside his locker as he had to remind himself to bring the slippers home instead of putting them in the locker. or maybe it can be a gift for the first-year junior who is going to be assigned his previous locker for their shoes. that’s for him to think more about because he still sense he has time to think about it—the day felt both fast and slow at the same time.

the hallways are as clean as ever as he and you climb up the flights of stairs toward your homeroom class. his eyes gaze at the ever-changing properties hanging on the wall, yet he can definitely remember what it looked like when he was first here.

the newly painted wall now has chips of paint fallen off to show the dried concrete. the bulletin board where each club is advertising their project changes with every new administration. some plants he had first seen as sprouts now grow into a beautiful shrub. with a few of the existing shrubs died because of various reasons. yet, the look of the hallway still is the same as he could pinpoint places he had touched before: he had leaned his body against those set of windows, he had taken a peek inside one of the classrooms as he awaited taki to come out of the class, and he had also sat down on the floor there with his circle to their bento boxes because their usual hangout place is being renovated.

riki reached the handle and slides the classroom door as he is greeted by some students already sitting there, hearing the same roar as you step inside behind him. his eyes landed on the seats where you and he had sat for the past year, empty and inviting to both of you as you gazed at your classmates with their own bouquets (if they have one) and definitely their own diplomas as you watched them still admiring it. your eyes gazed to see the rest of your circle already in the classroom as you placed your backpack to hang on the seat and immediately walks towards nina, asking if she has any wet tissue.

“what took you so long?” riki heard shota’s scolding from the seat in front of him as he placed his own backpack beside his desk.

“didn’t expect for all of you to be here already. so (y/n) and i took our time,” he answered so honestly, hearing taki’s snicker beside shota as he was eating a snack. riki sits on his chair as his hand reaches for the cupboard underneath the desk in front of him, tapping his palm against the surface to recognize if he has any leftover items he hasn’t brought home. that’s when he felt sheets of paper that were united by a paper clip. he pulled it out, seeing the dusty paper of what looked to be a musical notary for his music class exam.

he remembered it was a final group project for the music class, and he had to do it with all six of the circle. riki remembered all the music lessons he had learned from his brief training with the trainers as he helped the group create their own song. shota in the drums, taki on the bass, nina on the guitar, and you on the piano whilst kokona and riki sing along with koko who uses her lyricist prowess to make a song that is seemingly about friendship and farewells. if riki hasn’t been accepted by his south korea agency, he would definitely pitch the idea to all of you to create a band. maybe all of you can be the latest sensation japan will meet on those shibuya crossing’s digital billboards.

yet fate says otherwise.

riki’s nose itches as he dusted the paper as the specks of dust floated towards the ground, looking at the clear version of the notation and even his own scribbles as he remembered how kokona berated him for not being able to match her melody—"i’m a dancer, koko-chan. not a singer." “but you’re an idol trainee. surely, you can sing.”—before carefully tucking it into his bag as he pulled the bouquet out of the bottom and let the bag open because he just knew that his whole backpack would smell like it if he kept it close.

looking towards the surface of the desk, riki sees a shadow standing menacingly in front of his desk. the shadow slides the glico’s pocky box in his vision. his head shifts upwards as he sees nina holding two more boxes of different flavors, making him look to his side to detect both you and kokona already having your own pocky with your own differing flavors.

“my gift to you all because i know i won���t be able to see you much in america.” nina says after putting the rest of the boxes in front of taki and shota. he could hear the two boys coo and send her gratitude before grabbing the boxes and opening them to ravage them for themselves. riki finally took a closer glimpse of yours as he finally noticed how both of your boxes are green-colored.

“did she give us the same flavor?” he mumbled to himself, yet he mumbled outwardly, making you shift your head and face him.

“i think our flavors are similar, let me see.”

you gently grip the wrist he is holding the box with and bring it beside yours. riki examines how his box has a dark chocolate gradient on it while yours is fully green, trailing his eyes down to read the flavor name on the front of the box.

“see, yours says green tea while mine is rich matcha.” you say what you observed as he can’t help holding back a giggle as you seem to unconsciously play around with your lip after you say the word “matcha.”

though purple is your favorite color—matcha is your favorite flavor. you have always been seen with matcha-flavored everything if you are given a chance. matcha lattes whenever all six of you visit a cafe, matcha mochi whenever you buy mochis, or matcha roll cakes when the gang is trying to buy something inside family mart. it’s no surprise nina gives you that, but why did she give him a similar, lighter version of it?

whatever, let’s just eat-

the sliding door opens and behind it, the figure of the class’ homeroom teacher appears. everyone, including riki, is applauding him—slightly drops the box on the table as he didn’t get to rip it properly. mister terada slowly steps inside, a surprised face on his face as he slowly walks to stand by the table in the middle of the class. he is carrying a large box with both of his hands as the holler continues, which is followed by whistles before he places it down on the table. mister terada raises his hands and slowly pushes it down as the volume follows.

“settle down kids. this is our last homeroom meeting.” mister terada says as riki gazes at the open box, knowing that it’s probably the yearbook that he had shot the photos for in january. he remembered that day cause it was still cold as heck. many of his classmates brought their own properties for the shoot, yet riki only wears his gakuran with a loose button and his trusty shoes—the black and white soccer ball is being lent by the committee because he has and wants to represent soccer on some sort so that he won’t forget.

“today, i’ll be giving you your yearbooks and also recapitulate your career sheet to see how each has progressed. i’m sure by now you have picked to focus on one of the three choices you made from those you picked in your first year to pursue.” mister terada stated as he started to call each name in the student's list, starting with the class president.

the giving off of the yearbook is also followed with a mini consultation of each student's progress. yes, right in front of the class, which can lead to embarrassment if they can’t keep up. but so far, everything still goes according to their plan, some even find themselves straying from their primary focus to explore something new or getting caught in something that becomes their infatuation.

most of his friends that have come forward and got their yearbooks have spoken about the same thing that they have spoken about just between the six of you: kokona is going to music school, nina is going to america and studying macroeconomics, and shota is pursuing game development. then, it was time for his turn as he heard the calling of a certain nishimura riki.

“that’s our idol!” he picked up taki's shouted words as the rest of the class laughed. everyone knows just how much riki likes to dance. he had shown his skills numerous times in the school’s talent shows either alone or with taki as the riki duo that they are. so it isn’t also a surprise for his classmates to find out he had been accepted into a label in south korea that has been throughout his school—courtesy of taki, as he is the one that always spills it.

it even created a whole discussion on why riki picked a korean label instead of japanese one, but one thing is prevalent in the discussion: the korean idol industry will see his dancing skills as more valuable than in the japanese idol industry. it’s just the way those industries goes honestly. but riki also wants to appreciate the korean idols that inspired him to be who he is right now; especially with the existence of japanese people in the korean idol industry and how the numbers are still going up.

the class seems to unanimously sing yoasobi’s idol as riki playfully does the gesture in the viral dance challenge as he now stands in front of mister terada. bowing down to greet him, he picks up the yearbook with two hands as the teacher asks, “how is it with your idol training?”

“it’s going good. i’m actually already planning to move to seoul after graduation so i can train better and have a higher chance of debuting.” yet, riki didn’t mention he will actually move tonight.

“well, we can’t wait to see you on the world stage, riki-kun. i love how consistent you are with it and i sure hope that your consistency could also inspire the juniors to follow their dreams.”

“thank you, mister terada.” he bowed his head once again before returning to his desk as mister terada called for the name after his. he playfully opened the yearbook and skimmed it before landing on his class. his fingers flip the paper to finally open to the page where all six of his friends are—because they shoot their pictures together. riki’s photo is the one where he had all the gakuran buttons off from their respective slots and he is holding the soccer ball against his hips.

“look at that, a very bad boy of a manga.” he could hear his thoughts speaking to him in your voice as he wished you acknowledged that. he also moved to the superlative pages as he could remember his same-year peers and juniors him in the running. he didn’t expect to win most changed by his peers. maybe it is because he has his growth spurt as he could tell that he might even grow 10 centimeters whilst in high school. but also with how his voice changes because of puberty and how his style changes to accommodate his interests, including more exposed yet baggy clothing and the clip-on earrings he likes to wear.

“(l/n)(y/n).”

riki heard the scrapping from the chair beside him as he watched you standing up and walking towards the front of the class. though you haven’t fully spoken about what you wrote on your career sheet, being a mangaka is what everyone knows that you wanted to be. your illustrating prowess has always been shown in the festivals the school made yearly, whether it is when you helped with the class’ food market by creating brochures and banners or when you even opened an illustration service where you drew students and teachers alike for them to have. it seems that you’ve got your life in line alongside him. and that’s why it shocked him to listen to what you’ve answered to mister terada’s question.

“yes, my progression with my university application is great. i’ve been accepted as a student in the international relations major in kyoto.”

riki’s eyes enlarged because he can’t believe what he is hearing. he turns his head towards his friends who are also looking at each other in quick succession, all of them having confusion on their faces before returning to you who is smiling like you didn’t even feel the quake that shook your friends’ beliefs about you. as you walked to your chair and look around at each of your friend’s face, you give them a tight-lip smile. yet, all of them hesitate to ask you why you choose international relations instead of design or art school. they have to respect your choice just like any of their classmate's changes.

the revelation shocked riki the most as he thought that you had trusted him enough to tell him everything. he has been your seatmate for three freaking years and you have grown up together since the first year. he had always seen you drawing in sketchbooks you bring in class, even ignoring some lectures so you can focus on drawing and reading manga. sure, he can see you must picked studying social science for a reason but he thought that—maybe just like he is as you both are creatives—you just don’t want to do math and natural science like he is.

the number of students without the yearbook dwindles as every desk has one on top of it. mister terada stares at the group he can call his kids while mumbling, “i’m so proud of all of you. hopefully you can continue to grow and be impactful towards society-“

“wait, mister terada!” the class president shouts as she scrambles to get something underneath her desk to then watch her pick up a new bouquet. “this is our gift to you so you also have your own bouquet alongside us.”

riki remembered when the class treasurer suddenly asked him if he wanted to contribute to gifting a bouquet to mister terada during the class’ yearbook photoshoot. he gladly accepts it as mister terada is the nicest homeroom teacher he had throughout high school. some of his other homeroom teachers are unnecessarily harsh towards the students and even shamed for not following through with their career sheets—knowing that teenagers also can get stressed too in doing so. mister terada is the only teacher riki can comfortably consult about his choice of being an idol. at that time, he was contemplating if he should audition for one or just focus on becoming a professional dancer. yet, mister terada’s push also helps contribute to him filling in the audition form.

mister terada received the bouquet from the class president as he stared at it, his eyes glimmering before saying, “thank you so much. could we get a class photo with all of us?”

the students are standing up as they try to set their places. one of the student’s parents, who is watching the class outside from the hallway window, steps in to take the picture. riki stands beside you, taking a peek to see you already in your pose as he can’t help but put his hand on your shoulder. what’s wrong with friends of the opposite sex being touchy with each other anyway when he had seen all the different hugs and leaning against shoulders between the six of you?

as the click of the phone camera taking the picture rings and dissipates, it’s followed by a chorus of thank yous being thrown around as some students hug each other. he is busy too, as some of his classmates are trying to take a few last selfies with riki before he becomes famous—making the rest of the gang just snicker from the side.

“i’m going to miss you guys,” shota spoke as all six of you were huddled in the group hug. one last warm hug before all of you are going to your separate ways. riki also should go back home to rest up as he will go to haneda airport later but when the hug separates and all of you six are promising to catch up and communicate in your line group chat, he is trying to keep up pace with you who is tidying up your purple backpack.

“(y/n)-chan.”

“yeah?” you looked up from the backpack after zipping it up, wanting to grab your drink and the pocky that you know you’ll be eating on your way home. yet, with the way riki is looking at you; you know he is trying to let something out.

“do you wanna hang out on the rooftop? for old time's sake, as it is our last chance.”

you held down your smile, knowing that you also didn’t want today to end so early.

“yes. let me text the others in the group-“

“just,” his voice cuts yours, “just the two of us.”

you watched as his glittering eyes told you something, telling you to follow him as you could definitely feel that something was hanging that you had to speak about. and you knew it was about the changes in your plan for the future, especially as you confide with riki so much of your dream in creating your own manga series.

putting the straps on your shoulders, you point your chin towards the door and say, “ok.”

-

the breeze comes rushing in even if you stand behind riki’s figure, blowing your hair as his figure turns into a silhouette when meeting the afternoon sun. you step out onto the concrete ground as you glance at the half wall circling around the perimeter, seeing a few chipped-out paint coming off from said walls before you turn around to be greeted with the rooftop garden. the rooftop that you and your friends have always been on since your first year.

the rooftop is a somewhat famous destination per se, but only the people who are brave enough to trudge against the ever-changing weather could remain here even within the three terms. so that’s why only a handful of people can call this rooftop their hangout place—other than the back of the school or the cafeteria. you glance at the shorter half wall near the garden, the place you and the rest of the six usually hung out at; ate lunch at, doing homework at, and spending your free time at. you can even remember when you initiated the circle’s “logo” as you write your name in an arch, making the others write their own to create a full circle following the curve.

you’re going to miss this place when you’re in kyoto. you’re going to miss the friends that you meet here.

stepping in front of you as you follow, riki approaches the short half wall that is also acting as a multi-use bench, eyes taking a glimpse at the garden’s chlorophyll coming back after winter has frozen them up. insects that seemed to be brave enough to fly this high are visiting here, carrying the pollen for the plants to grow faster. you follow his movement as you sit beside him, gazing at the beautiful view behind the half wall of the sky as the sun is on the way to setting on the west horizon.

riki reaches for his pocky as the sound of the box ripping is heard beside you, making you take your own opened one as you finally rip the plastic packaging open that separates you from the delicious cream on a biscuit stick. yours were more green than riki’s—hence the “rich matcha” flavor nina gave you. silently, you both take a bite of the stick that you pull out. your taste buds are overwhelmed by the combination of the matcha-flavored cream with the matcha-flavored biscuit stick. you look between the front of where you’re sitting to peeking from the corner of your eyes as you see riki doing the same, making you hold back the chuckle before awkwardness comes to remind you quick, making you finish your whole biscuit as your hand reaches inside the aluminum bag for another one.

“you said you want to be a mangaka?”

the breath that you are holding is slowly dripping out, knowing that your intuition is right as to why he brought you here.

“i thought we were gonna fulfill our dreams together…” riki’s voice seemed so cold—even colder than the leftover winter wind in spring.

your facial muscles twitch, maybe it’s because of the sudden sensitivity your face felt the breeze or is the answer that you don’t wanna think about suddenly popping into your mind. yet, when you turn your head—forcing yourself to be brave—you find riki already staring at you. his piercing eyes making goosebumps rising on your skin as, even through his eyes, you can read what he is telling you. you’ve drawn and seen characters in those eyes, but feeling it in real life feels different. much more hurting. much more loathing.

you try to think of the words that you remember you discussed with your parents as you talk about the future, as they’ve reminded you of how dangerous that industry could be—"many animators are crunching their hours. we don’t want to see you like that."—and the fact that they knew, they knew you couldn’t be creative under pressure makes you rethink it. and here you are, trying to explain that to your number 1 supporter, just as you are to him in his dancer-now-future-idol career.

“i, i don’t know if it’s viable for me…” you started, glancing between the pocky box you’re holding and him as you let out a sigh.

“then choose something else other than an illustration, like, i don’t know, painting? graphic design? you like those, right?” you can hear the way riki’s throat is getting hoarse as he speaks, how he is gritting his teeth when saying those words before he takes another stick from his pocky box and takes a bite. the muffled crushing of the biscuit is much louder than when you both are eating it.

“i have to think about my future, riki. you do know i like history and geography and international relation calls to me the same time as a career as a mangaka.” you said in nearly the same tone, not wanting to hold back as you can’t believe just how one-sided he seemed to think of you. that you’re not more than just an art kid in his eyes. “just like how you pick between being a dancer and a soccer player.” you said the last sentence, voice getting lower until the sentence ends near mumbling. but you know riki’s listening.

this is now the correct time for you to pour why you hid your choice from him.

“don’t you know just how dangerous the animation scene in japan is? people are overworked to churn out season upon season nearly every year. being an independent mangaka is also hard when you have to fight against the big guns in the industry. though i’m good at drawing, i don’t know about my writing skills-“

“you’re writing skill is perfectly fine.” he cuts your tangent, pivoting his head back towards you, still not stopping you from continuing.

“okay, but people are suffering there and if i join that system, i know i’ll be suffering too.” you rub the bridge of your nose near the corners of both of your eyes, pressing down on it as you don’t want a single tear out. not right now when you are trying to defend your choice. you’re willing to let out different words just to try to make him understand.

“and if i’m going to school in international relations, that doesn’t mean that i’ll be giving up on drawing. maybe i could join an organization or event there that needs someone to illustrate stuff. maybe i could try doing freelance whilst also working part-time in some convenience stores near tourist spots in kyoto. that doesn’t mean i’m going to easily give up on that dream, it’s just i’m taking the longer way.”

riki held his breath as he heard your reasoning, the way the look of your eyes seemed to dwindle but also increased in sparkles as he couldn’t figure out what feelings you were trying to say. anger? sadness? satisfy?

but when he felt your hand reach to hold his, he knew that you now want him to, at least, believe in you.

“you don’t know just how frustratingly messed up my thoughts are when you said you are accepted to a korean label and to fulfill your dream as a k-pop star.” your thumb caressed his pinky finger, “because i know that it’s going to be hard for me or for anyone in our circle to reach your level of success this young and to talk to you in general because you’re either going to be in korea all the time or you’re going to be layers behind bodyguards when you’re not there.”

you gulp down your saliva, “i’m glad one of us is going to fulfill our dreams faster.”

the last sentence hits riki so much that he has his life’s perspective turn in some random of degrees. he had heard of his parents talking about his older sister who is now in university, about just how different her childhood dream is compared to what she pursued whilst growing up. the same goes for riki, who wanted to be a soccer player before becoming a professional dancer and now being an idol. you must be facing the same thing. he recall how you mentioned you wanted to be a chef during your childhood, how it changed to your love for drawing, before seeing yourself as a diplomat, yet that could definitely change given you have four years of university.

life is definitely much more mysterious than what riki has been accepting. people’s wants and needs change given the situation, from the farthest to the nearest. dedicated people are there but the environment and instinct seem to tell them to change paths. he definitely realizes more that one person doesn’t have a definite answer to what is their purpose in life. is it like him to perform on stage? is it like what he thought you’d do in making a best-selling manga? all of that is a possibility, but that is not definite.

now he knows that the purpose of life is to live. every change of heart is there for a reason that is at the same level as every dedication. that, in life, anyone can define themselves as plural, like his mother who is also a businesswoman, and his father who is also an engineer. like you, who may become a diplomat and an artist. or even maybe him, who can be an idol but likes to play soccer. he had felt that he was erasing one dream for the next. but actually, he is just changing priorities to the one he is focusing on. that is his idol career for him and the international relations major to you—because that dream is still there, now lying dormant.

“you can fulfill your mangaka dream too, (y/n).” your ears perked up at what he was saying. your hand rests and is idle on top of his as you can feel his hand underneath yours flipping unto the other side. “what you said is true. that you can still have drawing as a hobby to help relieve you from school stress, that you can make pocket money out of it. that the place is still there for you even if you change your destination to try something else. and i’m sorry for not realizing that.”

his fingers move to be in between yours before curling in, making you look down at them before at his face, “i don’t know when we will arrive at the place that we want to go. maybe never. maybe someday. maybe even tomorrow.”

riki let out a tremendous sigh.

“but i believe that you can still get there. i believe that you, me, and our friends will eventually reach there,” he spoke his mind, making him turn away his head because of how his hand is randomly holding onto yours.

before he turns his back, he felt your fingers also curling to meet his hand, locking both of your hands as the sky is turning from a blue to an orange, letting you know just how much time you have with him as he had told you, and only you, that he’ll be leaving tonight.

“thank you.” your sentence of appreciation is enough to lift a smile on his face as it reflects on yours.

the scribble on the half wall remains there as you hoped some school officials wash it or paint it some months after today. the sunbeams shining through the window to the hallway where students are finishing cleaning up their class so they can return home. the green grass on the field creating short shadows beneath them as the sun starts to sink. your hand remains in riki’s as you both step out from the school gate for the last time—seeing your juniors, giving you a sad look to see you for the last time, but also a cheeky look after finding your connected hands.

you and him stood in front of the gate as you faced each other. both of your houses are on separate ways as you slowly let go of his hand, letting out a shrug whilst also having a small pout on your face.

“so, this is a goodbye, then? i can’t even contact you anymore because you’re going to be busy,” you spoke out the truth—knowing that k-pop trainees aren’t also allowed to have their phones most of the time.

“more of like a see you later because i know that i’ll be giving you and the rest of us six tickets if i someday hold a concert here,” he replied, holding onto the strap of his backpack as you find his pocky box peeking out from when the water bottle is supposed to be placed—mirroring your own self.

riki’s eyes seemed to glimmer with something as he reached to the buttons of his gakuran, tracing his fingers on the thick gold button as he reached the second from the top, easily popping it off as he pushed it towards you. you looked down and up at his face, not wanting to show the shock on your face as you reached for the button, pinching it between your fingers before you placed it on your palm and instantly curled it up to keep it safe.

his body got knocked back as he felt the arms wrapping around him. his arms are in a pause before he naturally lets go, raising his hands to rest on your back as he tugs you in closer. his mouth beside your ear.

“promise me you’ll remember me,” he whispered, sending chills running down your spine.

“i promise and i hope you do the same,” you replied, sensing a single tear falling out of your eyes as you wiped it away with his uniform.

“of course, i do,” he spoke back. his body seemingly not wanting to let go of you as you pull yourself back, feeling him holding onto your upper arms as you let out a tight-lip smile.

“go on. you have a flight to catch,” you smirked and took a few steps back when you sensed his grip loosen. your curled hand with the button in the grip is resting by your heart while you see riki’s wide smile as he steps backward opposite to where you are going. flailing his arms as a wave of goodbye as you just want him to go back fast so you can finally shed the tears that are wetting your eyes.

you raise your own hand as you wave a goodbye when riki looks at your figure getting smaller and smaller with every step he takes backwards, wanting to run back to you to give you one last hug because he knows he’ll be missing you so much. he hopes that you’ll arrive at your dream tomorrow, but he will always give a word of encouragement to you in his mind even if he is training in the dance studio in seoul starting tomorrow.

he hopes you keep and take care of his second button, just like how you have supported and encouraged him to pursue his dream. and he is now more determined than ever to make you and everyone who knows him deep down proud as he closes this chapter of his life and opens up the next.

taglist: @raeyunshm @leilasmom @evidive @boba-beom @kwiwin @heesw1fe @aloverga @endzii23 @fluffyywoo @camipendragon @hiqhkey @wccycc @cha0thicpisces @y4wnjunz @yeehawnana @beansworldsstuff @kimipxl @blurryriki @amazzwon @reallysmolrenjun @stealanity @deobitifull @gandaengene @beomgyumineiro

© writingmochi on tumblr, 2021-2024. all rights reserved

[frobby]

i love madoka magica however i dont think we as a fandom talk enough about how tragic madoka herself is. probably because the narrative itself steers you away from thinking about her personally. shes not a character shes a desire that homura has, shes a force of good, shes homura's foil. but those are all madoka's narrative roles but madoka herself as a person is not really looked at because we are viewing this world from an unreliable narrator(homura) who only sees madoka as those things. The best thing homura could have done for madoka was give up on her, to let her go. because every time we go back in time the image of madoka is distorted, she loses more of herself every regression of homura's as she tries harder and harder to save her. We don't even know what madoka originally wished for to become a magical girl in the original timeline. and she actually acts quite differently than the madoka we meet. shes a lot more honest and caring and bold. by the time homura's has reached the actual anime madoka has been reduced by the sands of time to a figment of herself. she has no wants or desires of her own beyond wanting to do good and help her friends and when all her humanity is stripped away is when she finally acends to godhood because thats all thats left of her. an ideal and a faith in her. madoka kaname died a long time ago and all that is left is her ghost.

[mars-ipan]

btw i was Really Smart in communications today :]

[nbclover]

Christianity bothers me because it feels like a group of people toting love as their identity while simultaneously holding a belief in divine punishment for whatever they/their group agree is not worth loving. I don't want to be saved. I want you to shut the fuck up and either love me or don't. This is about you. You are not telling me to be better because you love me but because you love the idea of fixing someone. You get satisfaction from your faith which I find disgusting because just by my mere existence I am damned in your eyes. You don't know I'm damned. Why on God's green earth would I tell you enough about myself for you to know this. I'm not stupid. If you truly believe in a judgement day, let's leave the judgements for then.

[hedgehog-moss]

I need to confess something—my last post presented a deceptively idyllic vision of my hike in the snow. I only posted photos from the tranquil walk home at dusk and neglected to mention that I (once again) got lost in a featureless expanse of snow and briefly became convinced I would never find the road again and would have to dig a little den like an Arctic fox to spend the night.

You see, there's this place where Pandolf really loves to go for a walk on snowy days—it's on top of this plateau here:

^ see the fence in the middle, that curves to the left? Nothing bad can happen as long as you follow it. There are lots of landmarks in this direction, like trees, more fences, and a couple of houses.

In the other direction, however, lies The Nothing.

Here's a photo of Pandolf (eagerly) standing near the edge of The Nothing:

Characteristics of The Nothing: it is vast, and white, and becomes more and more featureless the farther you go into it—

—and Pandolf really, really loves it.

Even when he falls into a surprise hole where the snow is suddenly three times as deep (another characteristic of The Nothing), he'll just push himself out in one great powerful jump and keep frolicking.

Or he'll remain in the spot where the snow is deeper and try his best to bury his entire self into it.

He sometimes gets crazy eyes in The Nothing.

We always start this walk with such good resolutions.

We're definitely staying close to the fence this time! With all the lovely landmarks on the left!

And then, inevitably,

Further notes from my studies: • The Nothing has some small plants and rocks, but using them as landmarks is foolish, as they will eventually disappear. • No matter how many foot-, paw-, and dog-headprints you leave and how deep they are, they will disappear before you are able to retrace your steps, probably because The Nothing is always so windy.

Pandolf thinks this is a great characteristic of The Nothing, as it means he never runs out of immaculate snow to dive into.

The wind and the resulting snow mist are the really treacherous things about this place. These photos were taken in roughly the same spot, a couple of hours apart. In the first one, the fence on the left is clearly visible; in the second one, it has started to melt into The Nothing.

There's always a moment when I end up standing in the middle of, well, nothing, with indistinguishable whiteness in every direction, under my feet, above my head, left, right, and I start thinking about writing poignant farewell messages in my Notes app for my family to find at some point in the future.

One last interesting thing about The Nothing is the way Pandolf reacts when I finally find my bearings again and start walking faster, determined to get back to the safety of the road before it gets dark.

Pandolf then just

It's very different than the playful, energetic way in which he normally buries his head in the snow. This second type of burying is clearly a form of protest—if I continue walking away Pan will reluctantly follow me for 20 or so metres, then flatten himself to the ground again, in the same despondent way.

Hypothesis #1: He is trying to play dead like a possum, hoping I will go "well, I can't lug a dead dog all the way home, I'd better leave him here." And then he'll stay with The Nothing forever.

Hypothesis #2: He is trying to lay as flat as possible so as to become all but invisible against the snow. It's unclear if he knows he is the wrong colour for this.

Hypothesis #3: He is trying to commune with The Nothing, burying words of devotion and friendship deep into the snow and promising to return soon.

Conclusion: I'm sorry, I know that's a very long post, but seeing as each of these photos depicts perfect felicity on Earth, I find it hard to delete any. I also like how I intended this post to be about my long disoriented trek through the snow, wondering if I was going to find the fence or the road again before dark—and then I got distracted by how happy Pandolf was. Which is exactly how I end up getting lost in The Nothing every single time!!

[jakedustry]

𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐔𝐓 - 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐌

IN WHICH Jake Sim loves hockey, he loves it so much he is willing to spend his every free minute on the ice skating, but he also finds himself falling in love with you—the only girl his coach doesn't want him to date. But with the way you look at him, can he stay far enough to keep his position as the captain?

pairing– hockey captain!Jake x fem!reader

featuring– Enhypen members, Dani and Manon of katseye, Taehyun and Huening of txt, Keeho and Intak of piwon

genre– Fluff, Smut, slightly angst

warnings/contains– SMUT, simp!jake, kinda love at first sight, protective father, good relationships with parents, food mentions, Jake is very much a dream boyfriend, jake has a license, lots of teasing and flirting, secrete relationship, reader is told to be slightly shorter than Jake, nicknames/pet names used, parents get in the way of their relationship, masturbation (m & f), sexting, nudes exchange, oral (m & f), unprotected and protected sex, not proofread

word count– 25.5k

playlist »» ❝ It took five seconds to fall in love and two more to make you mine ❞ — Elijah Woods

↪ izzy adds... I've spend a good amount of time just looking at this picture of Jake instead of writing but honestly...can you blame me? It's the way he looks at me, I just can't adalhdlad Anyways, i'm glad to finally show you my baby because I've been meaning to write a hockey romance for sooo long. And what better present could I give myself than finally publishing it AND with Jake as the star character haha

m.list

Ice. Water. They were the same thing, right? And if water was a necessity, ice was as well, wasn’t it? Because truly, it was. 

There is no difference. Ice is simply frozen water, something we need to survive. 

And you needed ice to survive. The feeling of freedom when you moved around, the way your skates clung to your feet perfectly, and especially the memories the ice held. You couldn’t just give up on them, no matter how much you tried to. 

It wasn’t because you wouldn’t want to, in fact, you’d do anything to be able to step on the ice rink again, but it wasn’t within your capabilities to argue about the matter. It was overnight, without any previous warnings or discussions, and as you were picking up your things to leave for the ice rink before school, your dad stopped you, and your whole world had crumbled down. I don’t want you on my ice anymore. His words ring in your ears to this day, making you feel worse each time.

When you were younger, it was part of your daily routine to spend the afternoon there, hanging around with the players until late nights. One of the perks of being the NHL player’s daughter, you suppose. But then, in the blink of an eye, the father-daughter moments you loved so much, suddenly stopped. 

At first, he tried to excuse it by telling you you needed to focus on your studies, but the more time passed, the more obvious it became that he simply didn’t want you around. Whenever you asked him if you could join him when he had training, he brushed you off without any good reason. It didn’t matter who was on the ice, if he had a lesson with the kids or people your age—you just couldn’t go. 

It’s been four months since you last got to skate, and it felt like a part of you was missing. 

“Why don’t you just go when he isn’t around then?” Your roommate, Daniela, asks, her eyes softening when she notices your tired expression as you stare at your phone, looking through old pictures. “I don’t want to go behind his back,” you mumble without glancing up at her. 

“But you want to skate,” your other roommate, Manon, reminds you. You nod, putting down your phone and sighing as you notice the worried looks on their faces. “Well, then, how about we all go together? I might be able to get us in after closing hours,” you offer.

“I’m sorry, angel, I need to finish this project by midnight, so I can’t,” Manon excuses herself, and Dani follows soon after, saying she has two exams in the morning. “But you should still go,” she encourages you. “Go and have fun. We know how much it means to you,” Manon agrees with her, and you know you can’t back away now. You’ll definitely go tonight. 

As soon as your feet stepped on the ice rink, it felt as if everything was back to how it was supposed to be. The cold air hit your face and all your worries, all the stress you were feeling in the past few days, have washed off. You moved quickly, the blades of your skates cutting through the ice with ease. 

In that moment, you knew there was nothing else you needed. As long as you had the ability to skate, nothing else mattered. 

So, just like that, it became a routine. Every day, shortly after ten, you’ve gone to the ice rink, borrowing the keys from the manager and staying there for an hour at least. Daniela went with you from time to time, keeping you company as much as she could but at the end, you realized it was more convenient to just go alone, without having to worry about the time you’d leave or come back. 

You didn’t mind. You were skating again and that was enough. 

“Hello, Mr. Park,” you greet him with a smile, just like you had many times before. “You’re earlier than usual,” he comments, putting on his jacket and taking out a bunch of keys from his pocket. You smile, grabbing the keys from him. “I needed to get out,” you shrug. 

“You kids seem to do that a lot,” he shakes his head slightly. “School is a lot on you, huh?” You don’t answer, knowing just one look is enough as a response. When was it not a lot? “I see,” he nods, understanding. “In that case, I hope it helps you clear your head. Both of you.” 

“Both of us?” You frown as you tug the keys into your pocket. “Dani isn’t with me today, I’m alone.” 

You catch a change in his expression, a small yet visible flicker in his eyes, and it almost feels like he is planning something, as if there was something meaningful behind his actions. “Mr. Park,” you narrow your eyes at him, trying to see through him. He chuckles, sending you a warm smile before patting your shoulder and walking away. 

You watch him confusedly until his figure disappears and you turn around again. That was…weird, to say the least. Still, you decide not to pay it much attention and do what you always do—go on the ice. 

You smile, letting the feeling sink in before you furrow your eyebrows, the loud movement of the puck ringing in your ears. You look around, your eyes following the hockey player on the other side. You stare at the number 4 on his back, frowning when you realize you don’t recognize him. You always knew the names of every player on the team, their practice schedules, positions, and even the rankings your dad had for them. But now…you had no idea who this one was. 

A part of you hated your dad for it. 

You hated him for taking it from you. For taking the excitement you felt when you watched hockey players or figure skaters. Now, you felt like there was nothing connecting you to those sports. 

You take a seat on the closest bench, switching your shoes to your skates. You’re tying the laces when a loud pank interrupts you, the sound of the puck hitting the plexiglass making you flinch. You raise your head, watching as the boy stops in front of you when he sees you. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, pulling his helmet off with his empty hand, his hair sweaty. “That wasn’t meant to attack you or anything.” 

“I’m fine,” you brush it off, standing up with a casual shrug. “It’s not me you should be worried about, though. But rather your aim,” you point out. “And that stop didn’t look exactly stable, either.” You see him scoff, and slowly make your way toward the nearest entrance to the ice, your skates cutting through the surface with ease. 

“And who are you to judge? What exactly makes you think you know better than me?” he challenges you, his voice dripping with amusement as he leans on his hockey stick. 

You chuckle, turning slightly to look over your shoulder. You smirk. “Should I show you?” you tease, not bothered to wait for his answer as you swiftly push, gliding towards him, picking up your speed. 

His dark eyes widen in surprise and he drops his stick, his helmet following right after, expecting you to bump into him. However, you’re ready for that. With a swift movement, you take a sharp turn around him, coming to a perfect stop just behind him. “How’s that?” you ask, your voice filled with playful confidence. 

“Pretty good,” he breaths out, laughing in awe as he turns around to face you. “What’s your name, figure skater?” He asks, the mockery at the words ‘figure skater’ painfully obvious. “I’m not a figure skater,” you clarify, your movements precise as you pick up his dropped hockey stick. “I can handle the puck just as well,” you grin, imitating his moves from before and quickly scoring into the net. You strike a mockingly exaggerated bow, your name slipping past your lips, almost like a laugh in his face. 

What an introduction. 

“I’m Jake,” he says before picking up his helmet from the ground. You smile, skating backward away from him with his hockey stick still in your hands. He follows right away, and it’d be impossible not to notice the grin on his face. 

You take a few rounds around the rink, joking around with him as you skate backwards so you can see him. He has a cocky grin on his face, and for the first time, you don’t mind. You always hated seeing that look on men’s faces, when they thought they were above you, above everyone. But for some reason, his smirk didn’t look the same. 

At that moment, you think it might have hit both of you. The spark, the flame burning deep down in your stomach as you laugh together over nothing. 

You slow down so he can catch up to you. “Are you on the hockey team?” You ask even though you already know the answer. Of course, he is. The jersey made you figure out as much. “Yeah,” he nods. “The captain himself,” Jake laughs, speeding up to get in front of you and get the roles switched. “But I guess the coach made a mistake if there is so much I still need to develop.” 

“I mean, you’re decent,” you smile. “Oh, thank you. I appreciate that, figure skater,” he teases you again, but this time, you don’t hear any annoying mockery in his voice. “And anyway, the coach doesn’t make mistakes. He must have had something in mind when he made you the captain, number four.” 

“You seem to know a thing or two about him, huh?” You shrug. For a moment, your focus fades away as you think about your dad. You could have known the team sooner. You could have hung out with them just like with any of the other guys your dad trained. Sure, back then, you were a kid, so it was mostly just them looking after you, but you loved it nonetheless. You would give anything to feel that again. 

Jake uses the lack of your attention, grabbing the bottom part of his hockey stick and pulling you with him. You snap out of your thoughts, holding on tighter so you wouldn’t fall, letting him drag you around the ice rink. 

You stumble forward when he pulls with his full strength and you let go of the stick to be ready for the fall but before you hit the ground, his arms catch you, spinning you around as if it was a part of a performance. You end up laughing again. Honestly, you lost count of the amount of times he had made you laugh. 

“Thank you,” you mumble when he stops again, sending him a grateful smile. “For everything.” Jake shakes his head, “I didn’t do anything.” — “You did everything,” you correct him. “I needed this. So, thank you for reminding me why I love skating again.” 

Jake’s bag swings over his shoulder as he walks out of the ice rink with you, your bag in his other hand, despite all your protests. He insisted on carrying it for you, saying something along the lines of wanting to be gentleman-like. So you let him. 

“What exactly are you actually, figure skater? If you don’t play ice hockey or figure skate either, then what do you do?” He wonders as you lock the door behind you. “Nothing and everything,” you proclaim. “I grew up on this ice. I watched every game the Tigers played for the past thirteen years,” you shrug as if it was completely normal. It was normal, though. For you, at least. 

“So, are you some sort of Mowgli of the ice?” Jake laughs, causing you to do the same. “I guess you could say that. Even though it were still people who raised me, sometimes I feel like the ice rink had a big part in it too.” He nods, humming in response.

Jake ends up walking you to your dorm that night. You never mention who your dad is, nor what your last name is, because you don’t think it’s important. You talk about everything else with him—from your major, through your childhood hobbies, to your friends. You tell him all about it, and he tells you all about everything that he can think of at the moment as well. 

“Then, I’ll see you around, figure skater?” He wonders as he hands you back your bag, running his fingers through his hair. “Maybe,” you smile. “I hope you learn to stop more smoothly until we meet again, number four.” He chuckles, nodding. “I’ll do my best,” he promises, awkwardly snapping his fingers as he points at you and swallows what he wants to say next. You raise your eyebrows, questioning what it is, but he shakes his head, not saying anything else. He sends you one last smile before turning around on his heel. “Good night, figure skater.” 

“Night,” you mumble softly, smiling when you open your dorm door. 

“You’re acting weird,” Manon comments, eyeing you from across the room. You look up from your notes in your lap, raising an eyebrow at her in confusion. “What do you mean?” 

“Your book is upside down,” Dani points out and your eyes immediately fall down again. You quickly turn the book around, embarrassed. “For the last few days, you’ve been completely out of it. Why?” 

“I just can’t focus,” you sigh, resting your head against the headboard of your bed tiredly. “Tests?” Manon asks, but you’re not sure, honestly. Ever since that night, since you’ve met Jake, you couldn’t get him out of your head. You couldn’t stop thinking about how the hockey team was doing this season, who was on the team, and if your dad was still just as strict with them as before. 

You just wanted to be a part of the life again. 

“Boys?” Daniela chimes in. You give her a look—almost a warning one, but it only creates a smirk on her face. “Bingo.” 

“What boys? What do I not know about?” Manon’s eyes widen, searching for answers in your eyes. “Nothing,” you shoot back. “There’s no one. I’m thinking about the Tigers.” 

“Those, Angel, are men as well,” she reminds you with a teasing grin. “Some fine ones, may I add.” You roll your eyes at her, but you don’t argue. You might have only met one of them so far but if his teammates looked anything like him, it was only another reason to meet the team. 

You needed to convince your dad soon, no matter what. 

“So, what about the Tigers?” Dani asks, the study notes on her desk long forgotten as she turns all her attention to you. “I’ve heard they are doing pretty well this season. Apparently some good first years joined this year.” You hum in response, thinking about it for a second. 

“I met their captain a few days ago, he was training when I got to the ice rink so we skated together,” you admit, watching their eyes widen in excitement. “It was nothing like that,” you roll your eyes at them even though a part of you knows it was like that. You can’t forget about the way he made you feel that day. “It just got me to miss them even more. You know, watching their trainings and stuff.” 

Their eyes soften and you shake your head when you notice the pity in their expressions. “Good thing Uni is keeping me busy anyway,” you joke, but the sadness in your voice is painfully obvious. Still, they don’t press you any more, understanding when it’s the time to just stay quiet.

It’d be silly to say Jake found his love at first sight. 

Still, he can’t seem to get you out of his head, and it’s getting to the point it disturbs his everyday life. 

“How about you stop thinking about getting your dick wet and focus, captain?” Jake’s roommate asks, dropping his notes in front of him. The black-haired boy snaps out of his thoughts, picking up the small notebook. “What’s this?” He frowns, opening the first page. “Ideas for our next game’s tactics. Discuss it with the coach if you like any of it.”

“And really, start paying attention. If you fail your exam just because of some stupid girl and we lose our captain, I’m going to beat you up.” Jake laughs, nodding. “I’ll pass, Jay. I’ve been studying,” he assures him, but the snort that leaves Sunghoon’s lips on the other side of the room makes Jay worry again. “What?” He raises his hands in the air in defence when he sees Jake glare at him. “I didn’t say anything.” 

“You didn’t need to,” Jake rolls his eyes. 

“Look, guys, you don’t get it. You should have seen her! She was so cocky! She thought she could skate better than me!” He exclaims, a smile appearing on his lips as he thinks about the girl he met two weeks ago. “Honestly, she might have been better,” he chuckles. “I just know I was supposed to meet her there.” 

“And here he goes again with the fate thing,” Sunghoon scoffs, turning around on his chair to focus on his new skating choreography instead. “If you two are fated as you say, why haven’t you met again, huh?” Jay shakes his head at him, sighing. “Just look over the game plans. I’m going to the library,” he waves his two roommates a quick bye, grabbing his bag from the floor and leaving the dorm. 

The room falls silent for a moment before Jake speaks up again. “What if I went to see her?” 

“Oh God,” Sunghoon groans. There was nothing good that could come out of this. No matter how he looks at it, Jake’s sudden obsession could only go left. Still, it didn’t stop him. Before Sunghoon could say anything else, try to explain why it wasn’t the best idea, Jake was already up on his toes, packing up his laptop and some books for his afternoon lesson. 

“It’ll be fine,” he proclaims when he sees his roommate’s face, chuckling at his worries. “I’ll just say a quick hi to her, maybe get her number, and then I’ll go. I have math anyway, remember?” Sunghoon sighs, shaking his head. He lets him go, though, deciding to leave it up to him to deal with whatever he is planning to start. 

Jake hesitates as he stands in front of the same door he last saw you at, debating what he wants to say. Just as he reaches his hand up to knock on the door, the wooden furniture flies open and he almost bumps into a blond that tries to leave the dorm. He quickly blinks a few times, asking her if she’s okay. 

“Yeah, no worries,” she brushes it off, her eyes wandering all over his face curiously. “I feel like I’ve seen you before.” 

“Ah,” he offers his hand for a handshake with a smile. “Jake Sim. I, uhm, am the captain of the hockey team.” She chuckles as she shakes his hand, connecting the dots. “Daniella Avanzini.” 

Jake awkwardly rubs the back of his neck as he looks at her, realizing that he really had no plan at all when he came here. She, however, just smiles at him, and as if she knew what was going on through his head, she informs him you’re not home at the moment. He nods, quickly apologizing as he turns on his heel to leave. 

“Wait,” she stops him, her grin somehow mischievous. “She mentioned you before, just so you know. If you want, she plans to go skate at ten tonight again. I need to study so I can’t go with her, maybe you could keep her company.” 

Without realizing what he is doing, Jake’s lips turn into a smile and he nods, saying his goodbye quickly and running to his lesson. 

It’s six when Jake arrives at the ice rink, cursing himself out for being late. Coach was going to kill him sooner or later. He does his best to change as fast as possible but when he steps on the ice, it’s already 6:12. 

“Sim, you’re late!” Coach yells at him from across the rink, only sparing him a mare look before turning his attention back to the boys in front of him, watching them closely. “Practice speed drills,” he proclaims, quickly entrusting for Jay to lead it as he walks towards the team captain. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” Jake apologizes without hesitation. “I got caught up in school work but I’ll make sure I’m on time from now on.” Coach scoffs, shaking his head slightly and patting his shoulder. “I get it kid, don’t worry about it.” Jake confusedly glances Jay’s way but he is too busy with his own thing to notice. Something feels wrong. He shouldn’t be this understanding. 

“You–You do?” 

Coach chuckles, nodding. “I have a kid myself, I know how hard it can be for you youngsters.” 

Jake’s brows furrow but he nods anyway. He isn’t sure why he is so calm about it but if Coach is in a happy mood, he doesn’t need to piss him off. “Right, thank you,” he mumbles, offering a small smile before putting on his helmet and joining the others. 

“Dude, how are you this late and still alive and breathing?” One of the guys, Huening, asks as he comes to a stop right before the captain. Jake simply shrugs, glancing back at the coach again. “Not sure, but not complaining either,” he says, patting Kai’s shoulder slightly as he looks around to see how everyone’s doing. 

“Okay, I need to warm up. Jay, you got it for a bit?” He calls at the older man, receiving a simple nod in return. “Okay! No more lazing around, let’s go!” Coach yells at the same time as Jake starts moving again, tilting his head slightly. This seemed more like the coach he knew so well. 

The training goes on; from passing, through rebound drills to a full practice game where Jake almost curses out one of his closest friends, Heeseung, after they collide together and both bump into the plexiglass, causing Jake’s vision to blur for a few seconds. And when they finish, they all skate to one side where Coach is already waiting for them, a pen and notebook in his hands. 

Jake groans, tiredly plopping down onto the ice and taking down his helmet, brushing his sweaty hair back so they won’t get in front of his eyes. The rest of the team follows shortly after, until it’s only the coach standing. 

“Okay, first off, you all did well today, and I’m sure you know what you each need to work on so I’m going to make it short,” he says before handing his notes of the practice to the captain so he can go through them with his teammates later. “I won’t be able to be here on Friday so please, practice just as if I was and focus on the things I pointed out,” he continues, signaling to the notebook Jake is holding. “And after you’re done, you’ll find videos from some games in my office, take it as your homework and study them before our next game.” 

They all chant in unison, assuring him they will. “Alright, any questions or suggestions from anyone?” Jake looks around. “Well, actually,” Huening clears his throat nervously. “I’ve been thinking– I mean, we’ve been thinking,” he directs to a few guys around him. “A lot of teams gain their popularity online and you know, we only have our instagram account that no one really visits anyway. Maybe…we could get a media girl or something?” 

“A media girl?” Coach questions. 

“Someone who would film videos for us, take pictures and take care of our media for us,” Taehyun explains simply. 

“More people would know about us that way which also means more people to cheer for us at games,” Heeseung joins in. “More pretty girls thirsting over us,” he adds with a laugh, high-fiving with Keeho beside him. 

The coach tilts his head, watching the boys in front of him as he thinks about it, eventually nodding. “Sure, if you can find someone who’s willing to, then why not,” he approves and the guys cheer quietly. 

Jake’s eyes widen as it hits him, immediately raising his head to join the conversation. “I think I know of someone.” Jay catches the small spark in his eyes and shakes his head, knowing damn well what he was thinking about. He wasn’t even surprised. 

“So, who are you thinking about?” Keeho asks as he takes off his gear in the locker room. Jake’s lips turn up into a smile just at the thought of you, and that’s enough for all the guys to corner him, questioning him about this someone on his mind. “What? Are you too scared one of them is going to flirt with her before you can?” Jay teases, shaking his head as he walks into the showers, a towel wrapped around his waist. 

“Oh? So your girl?” Heeseung wraps his hand around Jake’s shoulder but he escapes right after, grabbing his towel quickly to run to the shower instead. “Not my girl. Yet, at least,” he finally speaks up, disappearing before anyone can say anything else. 

Jake might not be the most responsible person on Earth or the most punctual, but when he knows a girl he can’t stop thinking about will be somewhere at ten, you can be sure he will be on time. 

Your eyes widen when you notice him sitting at one of the benches, a phone in his hands and his skates ready on his feet. Unlike the other day, this time he isn’t wearing his gear. He has a simple dark grey hoodie on with black pants, and you can’t help but smile. 

“You got lost, number four?” You ask as you slowly approach him. He looks up from his phone, grinning as he puts it aside. “My name is Jake, figure skater,” he reminds you while still keeping up. He watches you as you sit down next to him, putting on your skates. “And I am not a figure skater, Jake,” you say, unable to contract your smile as you glance at him again. 

“Guess I’ll have to think of a new nickname for you then.” 

“I guess you will,” you nod, standing up when you finish lacing your skates. “I’m not sure what you’re doing here but…first to be on the other side wins?” you suggest playfully, already stepping on the ice before he can even register your words. As soon as he does, he quickly tries to catch up to you, putting all his skills to use just to be faster than you. 

And he manages, even though it’s not the way he’d want. 

Just as he catches up to you, you step badly and the next thing he knows, you’re on the ice and he is turning around to get to you again as fast as he can. “Are you okay?” He asks, the worry in his voice painfully obvious. You take his hand when he offers, standing back up awkwardly. “I’m good.” 

He sighs in relief, shaking his head at you slightly. He ruffles your hair and you yell immediately, making him laugh. “Alright, bambi, I think I won. What’s my reward?” He teases, the nickname making you frown. “Bambi?” He only smirks, slowly skating away from you, not taking his eyes off you in the process. “Fine, what do you want?” You ask, your skates cutting through the ice once again as you follow him. 

“We need a media girl,” he admits without a second thought. “I said I would find one. And I want you.” His words send shivers down your spine. You bite your bottom lip, watching him nervously while thinking about it. But really, if Jake tells you he wants you, can you refuse? 

“The coach agreed to this?” You ask before giving him an answer. As much as you’d love to hold onto this excuse to be on the rink, you still don’t want to just go behind your dad’s back like this. “Yeah, he said I can handle it. He has a big thrust in me, you know,” he says proudly, making you chuckle. “I’m sure he does.” 

“We have practice on Friday. Come by, I’ll introduce you to the team and you can decide then. I’ll understand if they piss you so much you won’t want to work with them,” he jokes. 

“And what if you’ll be the one annoying me so much that I decide not to?” You grin and he rolls his eyes. You manage to do a full lap by then, still following him around the ice rink. 

“Also, I want two rewards,” he proclaims all of a sudden before stopping. You mimic his movement with a raised eyebrow. “And why exactly should you get two?” 

“Because I’m amazing?” Despite his lame act, a chuckle escapes your lips and he knows he’s already winning. “Egoist maybe, yeah,” you smirk, scanning his face with your eyes. “Okay, what is it? I warn you though, if it’s stupid, I’ll kick you to the balls.” 

“Not my kids!” He fake-gasps dramatically, putting his hands in front of his crotch to prove his point. You laugh again, shaking your head. He smiles when he sees you, and the moment you notice it, you feel like something shifts between you. You swallow a lump in your throat, prompting him to finally tell you what he wants. You know you will definitely think about that smile of his later, though. 

“Okay, jokes aside, I want your number,” he admits, your eyes widening. “Why?” He chuckles. “What do you mean ‘why’? I want to be able to talk to you. I mean, what if I decide to stay late for training and need a goalie?” 

“So that’s what I’m good for, huh?” 

“That and maybe…just in case I feel a bit lonely here all alone,” he whispers, skating away again before you can say anything. You take a deep breath, sorting out your thoughts before you follow him, taking a turn towards the exit while he takes another lap around. 

You grab his phone from the bench, showing it to him. “Come here and unlock it if you want it!” You don’t have to say more. Jake doesn’t show any signs of hesitation before rushing to you, barely stepping off the ice as he takes the phone away from you. You chuckle at how determined he is, writing down your number when he hands you the phone again. 

“Why exactly am I a bambi now?” You frown as you watch him add a contact name. “Smile,” he says instead of answering, positioning the phone right in front of his eyes to get a picture of you from his perspective. He isn’t much taller than you but you still look up, forming an awkward smile. You’re not sure why, but there is a smile on his lips when he lowers his phone again. A smile so adorable you want to savor it. 

“Bambi is a cute animal,” he proclaims suddenly, making you blink a few times. “And even though you scared the shit out of me for a moment when you fell down, you were kind of like a bambi.” 

“I’m not sure what that means or if I like it.” 

“I’m telling you you’re cute,” he clarifies and a blush creeps up your cheeks. “See?” He shows you the picture of you he just took and your cheeks just redden. You do look pretty cute in that. “Thanks,” you mumble, avoiding eye contact with him and trying to get past him on the ice again. He laughs quietly at that but still steps aside to let you go, putting his phone back down. As he turns around to join you again he stops for a second, simply admiring you as you spin around, doing a few tricks as you have the space now. 

A part of him wishes to watch you like this forever. 

“Did you know I’d be here?” You ask as you walk side by side with him outside, your hands in your hoodie pocket to keep them warm. “I did,” he admits. “I met Daniela earlier today when I stopped by your dorm and she told me you’d be here at ten.” Dani, I need to thank you for the rest of my life, you think, chuckling softly. “I see.” 

“She seems nice.” 

“She is,” you agree. “And so is Manon.” Jake smiles, fixing the strap of your bag as it falls off his shoulder. “Wait, shit, that means they’ll ask me about you,” you groan at the realization. Maybe you weren’t going to thank Dani for so long after all. Yes, you did enjoy your time with him but that didn’t mean you were ready for their questions when you got back. Honestly, a part of you wanted to keep it just between the two of you. A secret only you two knew about. 

“Oh, yeah? What are you going to tell them?” He teases, leaning slightly down to reach your ear. You roll your eyes at how cheeky he sounds, pushing him off again. “That you’re childish.” 

He chuckles. “And? What else?” 

“That you still can’t skate.” He fake-gasps. You bite your bottom lip, rethinking your words as you remember the moments you spent with him on the ice. “And, maybe, that I enjoyed tonight,” you mumble, so quietly he almost doesn’t hear you. 

“So you do like me!” He grins, clenching his fist in excitement as if he had just won a match against the strongest team in the league. You scoff, shaking your head at him. “You’re an idiot.” 

“Idiot you might consider going out with?” Jake asks, turning his head to face you, the hope in his eyes obvious. Your breath catches in your throat, the question loud and clear. Your eyes widen and you quickly glance at him to see if he’s being serious or just joking around. When you gaze into his eyes, you get your answer. 

“Maybe,” you mumble, averting your gaze again. “If you try hard enough.” 

And he does. He tries as hard as he can. Not only does he walk you to your door again, almost being dragged in by Manon when she sees him, but when he gets to his own dorm, he’s already texting you. It’s a stupid question, one that makes you raise your eyebrow, but it gets the job done, and you end up texting him for the rest of the night. 

You don’t think you’d be able to hide the smile he creates on your face even if you wanted to. 

Especially when he keeps sending you random pictures. Of his face, his roommates, of the notes he is studying at the moment, anything and everything. He’s cute, you have to give him that. 

Your Thursday lessons pass by in the blink of an eye and Friday rolls in faster than you’d expect. Jake provided you with the team practice schedule the day before and you were never this happy to know most of your lessons were in the morning and didn’t collide with any of their practice hours. 

You weren’t sure how you’d face your dad just yet, but that was a fight for your future self. Right now, the first thing on your list was to get out of your room as fast as possible so you can still make it to class on time. 

“You know, just saying like, you don’t need any makeup. So maybe, if you just ditched that, you won’t have to rush so much now,” Jake comments, watching you as you sit at your table, finishing up your hair. You glare at him. “I’m not letting you here again,” you warn him and he immediately raises his hands in surrender. “I got you coffee, come on!” You avert your gaze again so he wouldn’t see your smile. Because he did, and god damn. Who would have thought a man showing up at your door in the morning with a cup of coffee could be so fucking attractive? 

Manon and Dani left shortly after he came but they didn’t forget to mimic kissing together before they walked out of the door. You had to roll your eyes at them because even though Jake’s lips looked attractive, you weren’t just going to make out with him in your room when you were already running behind so much. 

“Okay, let’s go,” you proclaim, quickly collecting your books into a bag as you glance at him. He’s smiling when his eyes lock with yours, and it makes you melt just a bit more. “What?” you question, feeling slightly embarrassed with his eyes on you. “You’re pretty,” he says, standing up from your bed and handing you your cup of coffee. You blink a few times but before you can say anything, he is already out of the door. 

“Jake, you’re impossible,” you mumble, feeling your cheeks heat up. 

You catch up to him quickly, sipping on your drink as you walk side by side with him, sneaking glances at him until he calls you out on it. “You can just say you like my face and I’ll let you look at it all day but don’t be this secretive about it. You’re not good at it anyway,” he chuckles and you close your eyes in regret. You weren’t sure if letting Jake into your life was such a good idea after all. 

What even were you doing, honestly? Skating together at night, texting all day and at night where you should be long asleep, and now this. Why exactly did he just turn up at your door unannounced with your favorite coffee order as if it was normal? As if he’s been doing it for ages. 

But no matter how weird or rushed it might seem, it felt somehow right. You didn’t mind the attention he was giving you, and you definitely didn’t want him to stop. If anything, a part of you was just waiting for him to take a step forward. 

“I’m not looking at you,” you argue, averting your eyes. 

“Right, and I’m absolutely terrible at hockey,” he scoffs, shaking his head. “It’s fine, you can steal glances all you want. But just because it’s you.” 

You feel your heart skipping a beat at his words. He had his way of gently flirting with you and it was making you crazy. You knew he was interested in you, you’d be blind not to notice that, but you still didn’t know what to do with his compliments and flirting, how to react to them. 

When you got to class, you thought that was your moment, a free minute to think about everything and figure it out, figure Jake out, but you’ve barely settled down in the class when your phone buzzed, announcing a message from no one else but the lost puppy himself. 

Jake: one attachment You: what exactly am I looking at?  Jake: flowers You: yes, I see that You: but why? You: also don’t you have a lesson?  Jake: oh, no, I’m free for another hour so I’m just walking around campus Jake: saw these and thought of you

You stared at the messages, a blush spreading across your face. He couldn’t get any better. Everything he did, every little comment or action, made you feel important, seen. And honestly, you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep talking to him without pulling him into a kiss and claiming him yours. 

Because right now, there was nothing you wanted to do more. 

At five, you arrived at the ice rink, the loud chatter of the boys from the locker room reaching you right after you stepped inside. You chuckle at it, the familiar feeling making you at ease. You sit down at one of the benches, pulling out your phone and scrolling through your messages—a few emails from the school, a message from your girls, wishing you good luck, and also a text from your mom. You quickly open the text, smiling softly as your eyes land on a picture of your mom in a red dress, asking you if she looks good. You immediately tell her that she’s beautiful and ask her what she’s getting ready for. 

Just as you do, the guys’ voices grow louder and you look up, watching them step on the ice one after another. You immediately find Jake with your eyes, your smile widening as he waves at you, skating to the plexiglass in front of you. “Come here, I’ll introduce you.” 

You step on the ice in your sneakers, awkwardly smiling at the few boys staring at you. “Coach is out today, said he’s got something with his wife. He might seem a bit scary at first but he is nice, the biggest Tiger of us all,” he explains with a smile, his hair falling in front of his eyes. So that’s what mom is getting ready for, you realize. 

“Oh, wait, you probably know him already, right? Would be weird if you haven’t after, what, thirteen years, huh?” He laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, quietly cursing at himself to just shut up. You chuckle, sending him a reassuring smile, your heart making a little flip at the way he remembers your words. 

“Okay, well, these are the tigers. Boys, our new media girl,” your name sounds fancy on his lips, little too good, honestly. You scan the faces in front of you, a few familiar ones you remember from the hallways or parties. “If you need any help, feel free to text me,” a taller guy skates towards you, reaching his hand out. You grab it hesitantly, your eyes narrowing at the smug smirk on his face. 

“Back it off, Hee,” Jake warns him, almost pushing him out of the way, which only gets the older man to laugh. “No need to worry. I’m not stealing your girl,” Heeseung chuckles, turning his head towards Jay with a knowing grin. They exchange a few words but you don’t catch them anymore, not when Jake starts talking to you, mumbling a quiet sorry. 

“It’s fine,” you shake your head. “But…” a smile spreads across your lips as you gaze into his eyes, tilting your head slightly. “Your girl? How come I don’t know about that?” The worry in his eyes disappears, a hint of mischief replacing it. “They can probably just see the look in your eyes,” he proclaims, leaning in closer to reach your ear. “You’re basically undressing me with your gaze, Bambi.” 

You scoff, but before you can say anything, Jake is already skating away, leading their training and you have no other choice but to go back to the bench and think about it, about him. Were you doing that? Surely not… right? 

You watch Jake lead the practice and something in your shifts. As if he wasn’t already attractive enough, seeing him like this, helping everyone out and yelling at them what to do, he felt somehow hotter. 

Maybe you were actually undressing him with your eyes when you thought about it. 

And as if that wasn’t already enough on its own, every chance he got, he found a way over to you, asking you what you thought about them, if you were enjoying yourself, and also occasionally just saying a stupid joke that just came to mind. You laughed each time. Because no matter how stupid the joke might be, you weren’t thinking straight at the moment. 

“So, what do you think? Am I good?” He leans against the plexiglass, a smug smile on his lips. You shake your head with a chuckle, stepping closer to him. For a moment, you completely forgot about the other guys on the other side of the rink, only focusing on the golden retriever in front of you. “You’re not too bad.” 

“In that case,” he starts, quickly glancing around to make sure none of his teammates are standing behind him, ready to tease him to death the moment they hear him say the words out loud. “Can I finally take you out? Who wouldn’t want to date the greatest player on the hockey team?” 

You roll your eyes at his confidence but don’t refuse. Instead, you think. “Alright, Manon and Dani will be gone for the weekend but I said I’d stay at the dorm. If you want, you can come over and we can watch something.” 

He narrows his eyes, shaking his head. “No.” 

“No?” 

“I want a proper date with you. Not fuck you on the couch with a movie in the background just because you have an empty place,” he states, gazing into your eyes. Even though, if he was honest, he could still fuck you on the couch after the date if you wanted. 

Your breath hitches just so slightly as you look at him, averting your eyes. God damn it, Jake. He was better and better each second, and if he was in for the long game, so were you. “Fine, then pick me up,” you mumble, refusing to look at him again. But Jake doesn’t mind because he heard what he wanted, and he couldn’t be happier at the moment. 

You groan and close your eyes as you hear Jake turn around and yell “She said yes!” at his teammates, regretting your choice of date for a second. But when he glances at you again with his little boyish grin, you completely forget about it, telling him to get back to practice with a smile on your face. 

When the practice wraps up, your phone is full of pictures you took of the boys as they practice (most of them of Jake because every time he saw you pulling out your phone, he got into the shot), and it makes you smile again. Just being here with them makes you happy. Watching them bicker and tease each other, it was exactly what you were missing before. 

A few of the guys pat your shoulder as they leave, something about wishing you good luck but honestly, Jake is the only one you can focus on again. “Undressing me again, aren’t we?” He teases and you roll your eyes. “You’re on thin ice, boy. Might have to reconsider our date,” you warn him and he immediately raises his hands in surrender. 

“Okay, my mouth is shut,” he says, getting off the ice as well. He takes off his helmet, his lips turning up in a smile again as he watches you. “Wait for me? I’ll be quick.” You nod without a second thought, agreeing. 

It’s the third time he walks you back to your dorm from the ice rink. It might seem like a simple gesture, and really it is, but you still feel the warmth in your chest. You find yourself opening up to him more than night, sharing a few of your dreams and places you want to visit with him and he doesn’t miss out on the opportunity to offer you to go there with you. You brush him off but honestly, when you think about it, it doesn’t sound bad at all. 

“Darling, we haven’t seen you in so long. I miss you.” You smile gently as you listen to your mother’s voice, sipping on your morning coffee. At eleven. “I know, I’m sorry. But I have a break in a month, I’ll definitely come home then, I promise,” you say, a part of you feeling sorry that you haven’t been around for so long. Your mom sighs, putting her hand over the phone microphone as she shares the information with your dad. You catch a glimpse of his voice in the background but it’s not loud enough so you could make out words out of it. 

“And why not this weekend, Angel? I’ll make your favorite food.” You hesitate for a second, debating on if you should tell her or not. But in the end, honesty wins. After all, it’s your mother who you’re talking about. The same woman who held you in a tight hug after your first breakup, who told you stories about princes, saying she wishes you nothing less than a charming prince who would love you dearly. You knew she’d be happy to hear about it. Even if it means you won’t come home this weekend. 

“I’ve actually got a date later tonight,” you mumble and the soft gasp that leaves her lips makes you chuckle. “Oh my! Who is the lucky boy?” 

“He’s…” a smile spreads on your lips as you think back to the puppy-like-boy who’s been flirting with you since you first met him on the ice rink. “An engineering student. He…He’s nice to me, mom. And makes me smile a lot. I like him.” 

“That’s great,” she nods, approving quietly. “In that case, I hope you’ll have fun tonight. And, darling.” You narrow your eyes, catching the suspicious tone in her voice. She has something planned and whatever it is, it can’t be good. “If it works out, bring him with you next time. I’d like to see him.” And you were right. Even though you knew your mom would love Jake if she met him and that Jake would love your mom, thinking about bringing him to meet your parents when you haven’t even had one date yet wasn’t something you wanted to do. 

Still, you force a smile, almost as if she could see you through the phone. “Of course. I’ll see how it goes.” 

The conversation changes shortly after as she asks about Manon and Dani. You tell her about how they are doing in school, how you are holding up, and the conversation just flows naturally after that. 

At one point, she hands the phone to your dad and you repeat everything you just said, well, except for the fact you were going on a date. While your mom was always excited when you told her about boys you were interested in, you saw the way your dad’s jaw clenched just at a mention of a boy’s name. And while you loved being his little princess while you were little, you thought his overprotectiveness now was unnecessary. 

It’s around five when you hear the knock on the door. You get up from the chair you’ve been sitting in and open the door, your eyes falling on Jake immediately. He is wearing jeans and a simple white shirt with his denim jacket over it but god, he looks fine. 

“Why didn’t you call or text? I would have gotten ready first,” you mumble, stepping aside so he can walk inside. He just shakes his head, saying something about being able to be with you for longer like this. You sigh, closing the door behind him. “Alright then, how fancy do you want me?” He smiles, glancing back at you. “I want you comfortable,” he proclaims and this time it’s you shaking your head. Alright, fancy it is. 

Jake settles down on your bed, his eyes following you as you scan the clothes in your closet. Then, finally, your eyes land on a brown dress, one you know hugs your body well. You glance at him with a teasing smile before grabbing the piece and disappearing into the bathroom to get dressed. 

When you walk out again, Jake’s jaw is practically on the floor and he has to hold himself back as he leans against the wall, watching you from the comfort of your bed. “God,” he breathes out and you chuckle, whispering a quiet thank you as you sit down at the table beside him so you could do your makeup. “You’re beautiful, gorgeous.” 

A smile spreads across your lips without you being able to control it, looking at him through your mirror. “You already convinced me to go on a date with you, no need to try so much anymore.” He only shakes his head at your words, “I’m not trying for anything. I mean it. You look amazing, love.” The nickname sends a shiver down your spine but you don’t let it show, applying your makeup and trying to ignore the blush creeping up your cheeks. 

“Alright, let’s go,” you say, turning to face him. He smiles when you do, averting his eyes from you for the first time since you sat down as he gets up, offering you his hand immediately. You roll your eyes at how cheesy he is but hold his hand nonetheless, letting him lead you out of your dorm. 

“Where are we going?” You wonder, following him to his car. You walk slightly ahead of him, trying to open the car door but it’s locked. He chuckles, shaking his head as he reaches you, unlocking the car with a simple click of a button and then opening the door for you. “You think I’d let you open that on your own?” You blink a few times, sliding into the passenger seat without another word. You weren’t sure how you were going to survive the night if he had your heart racing so much already. 

The drive is calm, quiet, with jvke playing on the radio, only setting the mood for what’s to come. You softly hum to the songs as you look out the window, smiling. You weren’t even doing anything yet and it already felt nice. Just being with him, spending time together, was enough. 

When the car stops again and you try to open the door to step out, Jake sends you a warning glare, making you chuckle. Your hand falls back to your side while he walks around the car, opening the door for you and offering you his hand to help you step out. You shake your head at him, squeezing his hand tighter as he locks his car. “You really don’t have to do all that.” 

“Opening the door for you is the least I can do,” he assures you, the puppy eyes he gives you making your heart skip a beat. “Let’s go, everything is prepared already,” he says, taking you towards one of the buildings beside you. 

Your mouth falls open in awe as you step on the empty rooftop, your eyes landing on the blanket set in the middle with two baskets full of—how you assumed—food. You glance at him immediately, your eyes wide as you search for anything that might prove this isn’t real. Because honestly, how could it be? How lucky did you have to be to meet this man? 

“How did you–” 

“I have connections,” he shrugs, smirking when he sees your face. The innocent smile, with those wide eyes of yours was something he could look at forever. “I wasn’t sure what you would like but I thought dinner couldn’t go wrong, right?” He asks, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. You don’t answer him immediately. Instead, you move your hand to his forearm, squeezing it tightly as you stand on your tiptoes, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. 

Jake has to blink a few times to process what’s happening and before he can do anything, grab your waist, kiss you on the lips, smile, respond, anything, you’re already walking away, sitting down on the blanket he prepared earlier. 

He chuckles, shaking his head in awe as he comes to sit down beside you. You smile as you watch him, genuinely happy. “This is amazing, Jake. You couldn’t have made the first date better.” He smiles as well, opening the basket and taking out a bottle of wine. “I assure you it will be even better with this wine.” You laugh, taking out two glasses out of the basket and moving them towards him so he could pour the wine. 

The night went on with Jake feeding you all sorts of fruits he brought after you ate a dinner he ordered, drinking wine under the moonlight and watching the stars appear in the sky as you talked about all sorts of things. You’ve found a comfort rhythm together, making it feel easy to talk to him. And honestly, it felt almost like you were an old couple already, on your tenth date as least. It was a comfortable feeling. 

“Do you have any plans for the upcoming break?” You ask, taking a bite of a strawberry. “I was planning to go home, be with my parents and hang out with the guys. Riki has been bothering me about wanting to go out play basketball lately,” he laughs quietly at the thought, his smile turning into a teasing grin when his eyes land on yours again. “Why? Want to do something together?” 

You hesitate, rethinking if it was an appropriate topic of conversation when it was only your first date but the look in his eyes reassured you that whatever you want to say, he isn’t going to run away. “I might have mentioned you to my mom earlier today,” you admit and his eyes immediately light up. “Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “Said that you’re an annoying little puppy that has been following me around for weeks,” you stick out your tongue, making him laugh. “Yeah, and what else?” He teases, leaning back on his elbows. Your eyes shift to something more serious but the smile on your lips never leaves. “That I like you, and hope this works out.” 

“I like you too,” he says without a second of hesitation and you can feel your cheeks heating up. He said it as if it was easy, no big deal. “She told me to bring you with me,” you add, searching for any sign of discomfort in his eyes. He doesn’t budge a bit though, his smile only growing wider as he nods. “I’d like that, for sure. Riki and his basketball can wait.” 

“Are you sure? You should probably be with your family. And if Riki has been asking you for so long–” 

Your name leaves his lips, interrupting you. Your cheeks flush pink and you gaze into his eyes again, swallowing a lump in your throat. God, why does your name sound so good coming from his mouth? “I’d let Riki wait for the rest of my life if it means being able to spend more time with you.” 

“He probably wouldn’t like hearing that,” you say, trying to mask the fact your heart is practically about to jump out of your chest. Because Jake? He had a way with words. But not only that. In the end, it came down to him as a whole. The way his eyes wandered over your body, the way he always knew what to say and do, the way he put so much effort into your first date—yeah, you did want to bring him to meet your mom. Who cared that this was only your first date? You knew it wasn’t the last. 

“That’s fine. I only care about what you like hearing.” You roll your eyes at him playfully, finishing the rest of the wine you had in your glass before standing up, walking to the rooftop edge. You lean forward, looking down at the street beneath you, watching the cars drive through and people walk to their homes. 

Jake admires you for a second before getting up as well, walking over to you. He hesitates for a second but then hooks his arm around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder with a smile. You freeze for a moment, slowly turning your head towards him. “Jake,” you whisper, your breath landing right on his lips. “Yeah?” Your breath hitches as you gaze into his eyes, his close presence sending shivers down your spine. Not in a bad way, though. A far from it, actually. 

Your eyes flicker from his eyes to his lips and that’s all Jake needs before quickly spinning you around so your body would face him. He doesn’t wait for anything anymore and crashes his lips with yours, his hands coming to hold your head. His thumb brushes over your cheek as he pulls you closer to himself, kissing you as if you were the air he breathes. As if you were the only person in the world. 

And you kiss him back with just as much passion, one of your hands resting on his chest while the other holds onto his shirt, keeping him as close as possible. His right hand slowly moves down to explore the curves of your body, fingers digging into the skin on your waist in an almost possessive way. You moan under his touch, never pulling away, not even as his hand slides lower, wandering over your thigh before holding onto it, making you raise your leg and wrap it around him. 

“Fuck, wait,” Jake is the first to pull away, breathles as his fingers dig into the flesh of your thigh, still holding your leg around his waist. “Wait,” he repeats, resting his forehead against yours. He closes his eyes, a soft groan leaving his lips. Your eyes widen, and even though he told you to wait, you kiss him again, the little sound he left out driving you crazy. 

Your body fits perfectly with his and you melt into him, the movements so natural you forget this is the first time your lips met him for a moment. Jake pulls away again, stopping you before things can turn in the wrong direction. Because fuck. He felt that kiss in every part of his body. 

“What’s wrong?” You frown, slowly standing on both of your feet again. “Nothing!” He panics immediately, his eyes shooting up to meet yours. “No, this was– This was perfect, like I can’t even–” You chuckle as he stutters, trying to find the right words. His cheeks have turned pink, making him cuter than you’d admit. “I just,” he clears his throat, trying to regain his composure. “I don’t want our first date to go like that.” 

You raise an eyebrow at that before it finally clicks and you realize what he’s referring to. Your eyes soften, your lips turning into a smile. You can see it all in his eyes, the way he holds himself back, the way he eats your whole body with his eyes and yet, still only thinks about how to make your date perfect. 

“Alright, but what if I want to kiss you again?” 

“Then I’ll try really hard not to get hard.” 

You chuckle, the smile staying on your lips as you watch him. “Come here,” you say and he closes the space between you again. You place a soft kiss on his cheek, your hands resting on his shoulders. “Thank you. For trying so hard and making this the best first date I’ve been on.” You pull back again, scanning his features for a second. He looks proud of himself but also genuinely happy, his cheeks still slightly pink. You walk past him, getting back to the blanket while he stands still, thinking about everything that just happened. 

You glance over your shoulder at him, smiling. “Let’s go?” He nods, catching up to you and casually throwing his jacket over your shoulders as you crouch down to clean up. “Come on, I got it,” he says, squatting beside you and filling the baskets again with the food you haven’t finished. 

“You’re going to be cold,” you mumble as you stand up again and let him pick it all up. He only throws you a glance and you squeeze the jacket around your shoulder tighter, ignoring the way your heart tries to get out of your chest. 

Jake leaves everything in his car and walks you up to your dorm, lingering in the doorway. “If you want to come inside, I wouldn’t mind,” you offer, opening your door. He smiles as he looks you up and down, taking the sight of you into his head once more. “I’ll come inside another time. If we win our next game. I can promise you that,” he answers, and you roll your eyes at him, masking the fact that maybe you wouldn’t mind that. 

“You’ll have to dream about that.” 

“Oh, trust me, I will.” 

You smile, “Good night, Jake.” 

Jake smiles as well, a soft genuine smile you could find yourself falling for. “Good night, love.” 

On Monday afternoon, you spend a little too long in the bathroom and your roommates notice, watching you from the doorway with curious expressions. You sigh, turning to them. “I’m overthinking it,” you breathe out and Manon nods immediately. “What’s going on?” 

“This is the first time I’m going to see Jake since our date. I don’t know, I’m nervous!” You explain, groaning. Daniella only laughs at you, shaking her head. “So? You’ll watch him be all hot on the ice, take a few funny videos and then you can make out with him against the plexiglass. What’s the big deal?” 

You roll your eyes at her, pushing past them and stepping out of the bathroom. “How am I supposed to just be there and act all normal around him? What if his teammates know?” You quickly shoot them a glance, making the two girls laugh. “Oh they definitely know,” Manon assures you. “You think he wouldn’t brag about absolutely winning you over with that date?” 

“And even if he didn’t tell them, one look at you and they’ll all see you’re absolutely head over heels for him,” Dani adds, plopping down onto her bed. 

“Just kill me,” you whine, jumping onto your bed as well. 

But honestly, Jake should be the one you worry about the least. Because it wasn’t him who was going to be surprised to see you on the ice. 

Shortly after, a loud knock on the door echoes through the dorm and Manon goes to open it, stepping aside immediately when her eyes land on the hockey captain. You hear his chuckle when he comes closer to you and when you open your eyes to look at him, his hand is reached out towards you, helping you get up. “Let’s go. I can’t be late,” his voice is soft, causing a blush to creep up your cheeks as you gently hold onto his hand. He laces your fingers together, offering your roommates a quick hello with a smile before walking off with you by his side. 

You’re laughing when you enter the ice rink. Jake quickly disappears into the changing rooms but doesn’t forget to kiss you before he does, making you freeze in your place for a second as you watch him. Suddenly, you don’t feel so scared about how things were going to look like. Because with Jake, it felt easy. 

Except it wasn’t. 

Because as you enter the playground, your eyes fall to a person you completely forgot would be here today—your dad. Oh god. Okay. You take a deep breath as you walk towards him, preparing what you were going to say. He doesn’t notice you approaching as he focuses on his conversation with the goalie, Intak if you remember correctly. You clear your throat nervously, getting their attention. “Sorry to interrupt,” you start, watching as your dad’s eyes widen when he realizes you’re there. “I just wanted to say that I’m here.” 

Intak smiles at you immediately, greeting you warmly before skating off to warm up, assuring you their conversation already ended. You finally look your dad in the eyes, catching the mixture of emotions in them. Is he mad, glad to see you, or even disappointed? You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to find the right words to say. Then, his lips curl into a smile and he pulls you into a hug, making all your worries vanish. 

“What are you doing here, darling?” He asks as he takes a step back again. “Well, I know you said– I know you don’t want me here, for whatever reasons but…the guys asked me to be their media girl and I thought– it was a way to get back again,” you start blurting out words, unsure if they even make sense, avoiding eye contact as you wonder what he’s going to do. Kick you out, remind you you’re not supposed to be here? Whatever it is, you don’t want to hear it. 

But then he says what you least expected. “Angel, it’s fine,” he chuckles. “I know I…told you not to come here anymore but I’m glad you’re here.” 

“You are?” Your eyes lit up with a spark of hope. “How could I not be? You’re my daughter, I’m not going to say no to hanging out with you. And also, your mom has been all over me lately, telling me I’ve gone too far and should let you come here when the ice is free,” he sighs. 

“Why didn’t you want me here in the first place?” You wonder hesitantly, watching his smile fall, catching a spark of regret in his expression. “It was stupid,” he admits. “I’ve realized that right after I’ve done it. I just thought that now you’re all grown up you…” 

Before he can finish, another voice interrupts him and you feel a familiar arm hook around your waist. “Coach! I see you’re already getting to know our new addition to the team, this is–” 

“Hands off my daughter, Sim. Immediately,” your dad commands, his eyes darkening as he watches his captain pull you close so naturally. 

Jake’s eyes widen and he obeys right away, blinking a few times as he places the pieces together. “Your daughter?” He asks, trying to remain calm. But honestly, he was far from that. “You didn’t know?” He frowns, scanning the boy with his dark eyes. “Uhm, no, sir,” Jake answers, quickly glancing at you for some sort of explanation. You just swallow a lump in your throat, trying to figure out what even is the right thing to say at the moment. 

“Dad, stop. He did nothing wrong.” 

“This is exactly why I didn’t want you on my ice.” 

You frown, a part of you mad at your dad again. Because what did that even mean? That his reason behind forbidding you to skate was even stupider than he made it seem seconds ago? “What, Jake? The guys? You can’t be serious, right?” 

“I am serious. These guys are exactly what I’ve tried to keep you away. I know them, know what they are like. These players scream trouble.” 

You scoff, “ironic coming from a NHL player, don’t you think?” Unbelievable. You turn to face Jake, ready to assure him, tell him to ignore your dad, but before you can even as much reach for his hand, he steps away, his gaze fixated on his coach. “I’m sorry. I’m gonna…start the practice,” he excuses himself quickly, disappearing without a single glance in your direction. 

If you were mad before? You’re furious now. “Great. Really great, dad. Thanks for ruining all the good things in my life. As if taking skating from me for months wasn’t already enough.” Before he can say anything, argue or apologize, you’re already on your way out of the complex, ignoring his calls after you. 

You manage to bump into Heeseung on your way out, mumbling a quiet sorry as you try to move past him. He frowns, stopping you. “You okay?” He asks but you just brush him off, sparing him just one simple glance before he moves aside, letting you leave. When you step out, you realize it was so easy because there are tears in your eyes. 

You wipe them off with the back of your hand, cursing yourself out. You’re not sure why you’re crying, if it’s all the frustration building up in you, your hormones making fun of you, or because Jake, the boy who made you feel so good in the past few weeks, has just acted like he barely knew you. 

You hated the feeling. 

Heeseung quickly blurts out an apology as he steps on the ice, frowning when he sees no one is paying him any attention. He skates towards the others, raising an eyebrow confusedly at the way the coach’s eyes stay glued to Jake, following his every movement. “Jake!” He calls after him, bringing him back to reality. “What?” Jake blinks a few times, subconsciously glancing at the coach nervously before focusing on his friend. 

“What did you do? Why did I just see your girlfriend run out of here crying?” He questions and Jake’s eyes widen immediately. He doesn’t even care to correct Heeseung that you’re not his girlfriend as he asks a different question, “she was crying?” 

“Yeah, man. I don’t know what happened but she looked…sad, broken I’d say even.” Jake’s hand clenches into a fist, partly mad at himself for disappearing like that before and partly just…worried. Whatever it is that got you feeling like this, he hates it. And he hates himself even more, knowing he might be the reason. 

Jake is out of focus for the rest of the training, too lost to even notice the coach yelling at him for being on a completely different side than he should be. It’s all in a blur, the whole training, the way he crashes with Taehyun as they do speed drills (Jake’s fault, no doubt), and even the way some of the guys ask him why you’re not here and if you’ve already decided you don’t want to be their media girl. 

His head is fully occupied with the thought of you, the way you tried to reach for his hand before but he just stepped back, the way you looked at him when the coach said something about Jake not being good enough (he didn’t but that was how Jake interpreted it), and the way you had kissed him just a few days ago. 

So, naturally, when practice came to an end, he tried to get off the ice as soon as possible, needing to see you, talk to you, apologize, and kiss you again. 

But he had to freeze mid movement as the coach’s voice rang in his ears, calling after him. Jake made a spin, a soft sigh escaping his lips when he saw the look on his face. “Get changed and come see me in my office, Sim.” 

“Yes, sir,” Jake mumbles back, no questions needed. It was way too obvious what he wanted to talk about. 

“What did you do?” Keeho asks curiously, glancing at the captain as he takes his gear off. “Don’t even ask,” Jake groans, sitting down in his place. “Did you guys know she is his daughter?” He shoots them all a look, the hidden desperation to find out he wasn’t the only one out of the picture passing by unnoticed. “Who?” Kai frowns confusedly. 

“Guess. Maybe the only girl Jake ever flirted with?” Taehyun chuckles, making Jake roll his eyes. “She isn’t the only girl I ever flirted with,” he argues but Taehyun doesn’t care enough to argue back. He just shakes his head, gently patting his shoulder as he moves to the showers. 

“She’s the coach’s daughter?” Jay speaks up, getting Jake’s attention immediately as he nods fiercely. “Apparently! He almost killed me when I put my hand around her waist earlier!” 

“And what did you do?” Intak eyed him from across the room. “Left,” he answers, so quietly the guys around him almost don’t hear him. Heeseung, however, catches it, his eyes widening. “You what?! Is that why she was crying?” 

“I don’t know!” Jake groans, hiding his face in his hands. “And now coach wants to speak with me as well. I don’t want to speak to him! What if he kills me?” 

“Should have thought about that before you made moves,” Intak snickers, disappearing into the showers as well. 

Slowly, everyone gets into the showers so they can be back at their dorms sooner but Jake takes his sweet time, delaying the meeting for as long as possible. However, when Huening peeks back into the dressing room a few minutes after he’s left to inform Jake about the fact the coach looks impatient, he collects his things and finally makes his way out of the dressing room. 

“You wanted to see me?” Jake says awkwardly as he steps into the office, placing his bag on the floor near the door but not sitting in the empty chair in front of him. All of a sudden, it didn’t feel the same as when he came into the office after practice to discuss game tactics. “You can sit down, Jake,” he says, more calm this time. 

The hockey player nods hesitantly, taking a few steps forward and then sliding into the chair. He stares down at the table, thinking about what he was supposed to say, how he would explain himself. “So,” the man clears his throat and Jake finally looks up. “You’ve been…seeing my daughter?” 

“Uhm,” Jake hesitates but when he sees the look on his face, he realizes lying isn’t going to get him anywhere. “Yes, I’ve– We met here a few weeks ago when I stayed late after practice to train some more.” 

He hums in response, eyeing him up and down. Jake swallows a lump in his throat. “And I’d like to keep getting to know her if that’s okay with you.” The coach stays quiet for a while, his brows furrowed into the same thoughtful look he always had while watching a team’s gameplay and figuring out what they could do to stop them. It makes Jake nervous. 

“And you’re the guy my wife told me about before? The one she had a date with this weekend?” 

“That would be me,” he nods. 

“What did you do?” 

“We had dinner together, sir.” 

“And then?” 

“I…took her back to her dorm. Walk her to the door and then we parted ways.” 

“You didn’t come in?” 

“No, sir,” Jake answers, frowning slightly. “I was respectful the whole time,” he adds, leaving out the fact he almost got a boner after kissing you. That definitely wasn’t something he’d want to discuss with your father. 

He hums again, not saying anything else. 

“I want you to keep your distance,” he proclaims suddenly, making Jake’s eyes widen. “What?” 

“You heard me, didn’t you? You have games to focus on, tactics to go through and teammates that rely on you. You need to have a clear head with no distractions if you want to take it somewhere.” 

Jake wants to argue, say that you’re not a distraction, that he can easily play as well as he did until now and still be a good boyfriend to you, but when he sees the firm look on his coach’s face, one telling him that it’s already decided and he can’t do anything about it, he only squeezes his hand into a fist, gripping tightly onto his pants as if that could possibly ground him. 

“You can go now,” he says but it’s more like a command, telling him to get out of his sight. “I’ll see you on Wednesday, rest well.” 

“Right,” Jake mumbles, the sound coming out more grumpy than he’d intended for it to. He doesn’t care to apologize though, pushing the chair back and getting out of the office as soon as he can, almost forgetting to grab his bag on his way out.

Jake [19:52]: I’m sorry Jake [19:52]: for brushing you off like that before

You stare at his messages for a few seconds, squeezing the phone tight in your hands as if that could make them go away. Well, maybe if you squeeze hard enough they will. You sigh, turning it off. You’re not even sure what or who you’re mad at but the feeling sits on your shoulders, reading the messages with you and it makes you feel even worse. 

Manon looks at you from across the room, glancing at Daniella before they both walk over to you, sitting on your side each and pulling you into a hug. You chuckle softly but in reality, it comes out broken. “Men are idiots.” 

“Absolutely,” Manon agrees, her grip tightening just a little. You smile, allowing yourself to melt in their warm embrace. “Yeah but one of them is my dad and the other a boy I really want to keep in my life.” 

“And that’s fine, just–” before Dani can finish her sentence, probably say something about how there will be more men interested in you and that Jake doesn’t have to be the one you settle for, your phone lights up again with another message from him. 

Jake [19:55]: Your dad held me after practice, wanted to talk to me

You blink, ignoring Daniella’s frown and unlocking your phone immediately. 

you [19:55]: About?  Jake [19:55]: Us Jake [19:55]: He asked me about our date Jake [19:55]: What we did and then basically if we slept together you [19:56]: what did you tell him? Jake [19:56]: The truth Jake [19:56]: That I took you back home and left immediately after you [19:57]: hm  Jake [19:57]: I’m sorry, Bambi Jake [19:57]: I planned on running to you right after practice  you [19:59]: But you didn’t Jake [19:59]: your dad told me to stop seeing you 

Your heart drops when you read the last text, part of you mad at your father, the other just disappointed. Because if your dad telling him to stop was enough for him to actually do so, then maybe you were wrong about him all along. 

Jake [20:00]: he practically told me that if I want to play I have to 

“My dad is officially not an actual person,” you groan dramatically, showing the text messages to your two friends. Dani reads through them with a frown, judging every word silently. 

you [20:01]: Are you going to listen to him? Jake [20:01]: I don’t know 

You want to tell him that if he’s even thinking about it then you should put an end to whatever it is that’s between you two, you should tell him that but as you watch the three dots appear and disappear all over again, you decide you can’t. 

So instead, you change the topic of your discussion, acting as if nothing happened. You can sense that Jake is somewhat relieved when you do but it lingers in the air for the rest of the conversation. How could it not? 

You know Dani judges you when she sits at her bed again and focuses back on her work but you try to ignore it, focusing on Manon’s support as she encourages you to text him, and then eventually, when the clock hits eleven, forcing you to talk about the elephant in the room as well. 

You sigh but listen anyway, your fingers hesitantly moving across your phone keyboard. And so, you talk about it. About what your father said, how you feel about it, and how Jake wants to do the complete opposite of what his coach told him to. It makes you smile. 

you [23:26]: How about this you [23:26]: We can pretend to listen to him Jake [23:26]: I’m listening Jake [23:26]: Enlighten me princess you [23:27]: Shut up you [23:27]: Around him, I can pretend I’m mad at you you [23:27]: And we won’t talk you [23:27]: You’ll simply act like he asked you to you [23:28]: while in private… Jake [23:28]: We continue seeing each other you [23:28]: exactly Jake [23:28]: I can definitely work with that Jake [23:29]: it’s not like I want him around on our dates anyway Jake [23:29]: Even less if I’m coming in you like I promised 

You roll your eyes at him, ignoring the smile that spreads across your lips as you read his messages. Who cares what your father thinks. If Jake is supposed to scream trouble, you’ll gladly listen to it all. 

The following days pass by exactly how you planned. You stay as the team’s media girl, talking to your dad as if nothing ever happened and acting as if Jake didn’t exist. And then, in private, you make use of all the time you can get together. 

“Missed you,” Jake mumbles as his lips crash with yours, guiding you towards his bed. You smile into the kiss, your hand finding a few hair strands and tugging at them slightly. He groans, sending a shiver down your spine. “You were with me the whole evening,” you remind him, holding onto his collar as you sit down on his bed, bringing him down with you. “That’s different,” he argues, stealing another kiss from you. 

His hand grips onto your waist, keeping you as close as possible, his lips never leaving yours. “Well, if you want to be with me more, feel free to tell my dad,” you smirk, pushing him off slightly. He frowns, “don’t talk about my coach while being in my bed.” You giggle, a soft sound that makes Jake’s heart skip a beat. 

“Then talk about what you want to talk about,” you tease, moving back until your back hits the wall. He immediately moves to sit in front of you, his hands gently parting your legs so he can move between them, coming closer as he kisses you again with so much need it causes a moan to escape your lips. 

“Be my girlfriend,” he says between kisses, squeezing your tights firmly. Your eyes widen immediately but the surprise vanishes when you see his sincere eyes, waiting for your answer, his thumb gently stroking your skin. “That’s how you ask a girl you like?” You tease him, trying to ignore the butterflies forming in your stomach. 

“Please,” your name on his lips makes you weak every time but now that he has that look in his eyes—the one that makes you want to kiss him until neither of you is able to breathe—it makes it even harder for you not to jump him immediately. “Let me take care of you, cherish you, and make you smile every day as your boyfriend. Because as much as I love this, I want to be yours completely.” 

By the time he finishes his sentence, you’re already pulling him in for another kiss, your cheeks completely red and your heart beating faster than before. Because, god, Jake Sim was going to be the end of you. “Yeah, I’d like that,” you say and he immediately cups your face, pulling you even closer than before, his body fully on yours now. 

His hand moves down again, his fingers gently wandering under your shirt when the door swings open and you quickly push him off, turning your head to see who came in. “God, get your own room for this,” Jay groans, closing the door behind himself. Jake sighs, running a hand through his hair before glancing at you, giving you one of his boyish grins. Your breath hitches for just a second before you clear your throat, recollecting yourself. 

“I thought you would be out,” Jake shrugs, moving to sit beside you, casually hooking his arm around your shoulders. You smile at him and shake your head slightly. “It’s fine, I should go anyway. I still have stuff to learn.” He turns his head to you to argue but when he sees your soft, reassuring smile, he just nods. “Text me later?” 

“Of course,” you nod, leaning closer to place one last kiss on his lips before standing up. “Don’t kill Jay while I’m gone.” 

“I’ll try,” Jake promises with a laugh, watching you leave the dorm with a smile. 

“Sorry, man. I didn’t know you two would be here. Put a sock on the knob next time or something,” Jay sighs, throwing his bag onto his bed. Jake just shakes his head, brushing him off by saying it’s fine. “Sunghoon has practice later and I have a date so if you want, the room will be free then.” 

“You’ve heard the lady, she has work to do,” Jake chuckles. “But thanks, I’ll figure something out.” 

Jake must have been the luckiest person to ever live because what were the chances of having an empty dorm and a girlfriend who loves to make him go crazy? 

Jake [21:05]: Still studying? 

He waits for an answer for a few minutes, trying to focus on his own work but honestly, it’s impossible. He reaches for his phone to check his messages when it suddenly lights up, announcing that you answered. He doesn’t hesitate at all as he opens your conversation, his eyes widening when he sees the picture you’ve sent him. 

It’s simple; you lying in your bed, your hair a mess on your pillow with your lips slightly parted, your eyes piercing at him through the screen. He groans as he watches you, his eyes falling to your bare shoulders. You’re in a white tank top, the straps falling off your shoulders enough for him to picture how you’d look with nothing to cover your body. 

Before he can do anything about it, he remembers how you laid in his bed just mere hours ago, thinking about how it’d feel to have you here again. You, bend over this very desk he’s been sitting at for the past hours, when he finally gets to touch you in a way he dreamed of from the very first moment he laid his eyes on you. He can hear you moaning his name and groans, sliding his hand between his legs. 

 He palms himself at the thought of you, your pretty eyes looking at him as he slides his tongue between your folds, knowing you taste incredible. He closes his eyes shut, his brows furrowing as he thinks about you in his bed, screaming for him to slow down to loudly all the kids on this floor would know just how good he makes you feel. 

He thinks about you in every part of his dorm, the shower, where he helps you wash up just for his cock to find your hole again, at the entrance where you’re so impatient you can’t even wait to get to his bed before you wrap yourself around him, even on the floor, sucking him off under the table while he tries to focus on the new hockey tactics you helped him come up with before. 

He chases his high as he thinks about what kind of face you make when you come, his hand moving faster, with more force. Soft moans leave his lips as he reaches the edge, his cock twitching in his hand and your name falling off his tongue before he releases, imagining it’s your mouth wrapped around him, your lips that swallow his sperm. 

“Fuck,” he curses, his head falling back as he catches his breath, pushing all the dirty thoughts that still hang in his head aside as he looks at your photo again, typing his answer. 

Jake [21:17]: That’s my pretty girl you [21:17]: Took you a while to answer for someone whose I’m supposed to be Jake [21:17: had a problem I needed to take care of, sorry baby

Your cheeks flush red immediately when you read his message, your mind going blank. Daniella notices the shift in your behaviour but before she can say anything, you run away to the bathroom, locking the door behind you as you slide to the floor against the door, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. 

you [21:18]: Show? 

You bite the inside of your cheek as you wait for his response, the room getting hotter when you see a picture he sent you. You swallow hard, feeling your pussy clench around nothing but thin air as you stare at the picture of his hard cock in his hand, catching a glimpse of his cum. God. 

He’s big, bigger than you expected. You slide your pants down with ease, your fingers finding your clit immediately. You bite onto your bottom lip so you wouldn’t let out any sounds, keeping your eyes on his picture. 

Jake [21:20]: Feels good?

He sends the questions as he palms himself again, watching the three dots appear and disappear again. He smirks, knowing damn well what he’s doing to you. 

you [21:20]: yeah

You send him a quick picture of you sitting on the floor, two fingers deep in your hole while your thumb presses against your clit. Your face is out of the picture but you know he won’t mind that, not when he now has a better material to jerk off to. 

You keep your eyes on your phone, reading through his new messages as he praises you while also trying to guide you through it. It works. Too damn much, if you’re honest. You close your eyes as you feel your orgasm building up, the thought of his long fingers (that you fantasized so much about before) replacing yours sending you over the edge. 

You sigh, your breathing heavy as you text him again, trying to calm down. If you don’t find a time when no one will be at the dorm quickly, you’re sure to go crazy soon. 

The following Saturday you find yourself standing in the coaching box alongside your dad, watching your boyfriend and his team skate around the rink. It’s the second period already and Tigers are winning by three points but you can’t help but feel nervous every time they lose the puck. Maybe because it’s the first game you’re watching as a girlfriend of one of the players, or maybe because you know there are scouts watching the game and this could be a great opportunity for Jake (or any of his teammates). 

You yell excitedly, cheering them on as you see the number four pass by two defenders all alone, the nervousness building up in you as you watch Jake make it to the goal. “Come on, come on,” you mumble as he shoots, praying for the puck to make it in. “Yes!” The whole team yells at the same time as Jake scores another point for them. 

The buzzer announcing the period end rings in your ear and you watch Jake skate towards the bench as quickly as he can, wishing to do nothing more than to pull you into the warmest hug he can. However, before he can do anything stupid, his coach pulls him into a hug instead, patting Jake’s back while praising him about the goal he just made. 

Still, his eyes stay glued to you, his coach’s words passing unnoticed by him. You smile at him, jokingly rolling your eyes when you see your dad. Jake chuckles, taking a step back and finally looking at the coach. 

“Thanks, coach,” he laughs before his teammates pull him into another hug. Your dad walks back to you, smiling proudly. “He’s going to take it far. If he’s lucky the scouts are all already writing his name down.” You smile as well, glancing at Jake for a brief second before you mask your excitement again. “Yeah, he isn’t all bad,” you mumble, making sure not to pay him more attention than absolutely necessary. Because if Jake’s truly lucky, your dad won’t notice the way his eyes linger on you throughout the whole fifteen minute break. 

The third period passes in a blur, ending with the Tigers’ win eventually. You watch as Jake and Heeseung find each other when the game ends, laughing as they pull each other into a hug. Huening and Jay skate to them immediately after, the rest of the guys following as soon as they can, jumping from the bench and skating to them to celebrate. You smile, a proud genuine smile your dad hasn’t seen on your face in what feels like ages. At that moment, it was completely clear to him that forbidding you from stepping on the ice was a bad idea all along. Because this was where you belonged, in the stands, watching his team take home another win just like you always had. 

“God, you were so pretty standing there and cheering me on,” Jake mumbles against your lips as he kisses you again, his hands wandering under your shirt. Your back hits the wall as he cups your breast in his hand, moving to kiss your jaw. “Are you sure no one’s here?” You ask, tilting your head slightly to give him more space as he moves lower, placing wet kisses on your neck. 

“The guys are all long gone. I told them not to wait for me,” he says and you gasp as you feel his teeth on your skin. The game ended almost an hour ago, no one should be at the rink anymore. Yet, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you could get caught any minute. Even though the changing rooms were more private than the game area, it still felt too exposed. You just want to take him back home with you but you know that isn’t possible, not when both of your roommates are there. 

With the way he sucks onto your neck he’ll definitely leave hickeys but you’re not in the right mind to care enough, so, instead of telling him to be careful not to leave any visible marks, your hand finds his hair and you keep him in place, a soft moan escaping your lips at the feeling. He smirks, rolling up your shirt to get a better view. “Remember my promise?” 

“That you’d come inside of me if you win the game? Very clearly,” you assure him, your breath hitching when his cold fingers wander over your bare skin. He smirks as he watches you, his hand moving to your back, holding onto your bra clips. “Can I take this off?” You nod, your eyes following his every movement. He’s hot with his hair still wet from his previous shower, standing in front of you in that annoyingly handsome tank top of his. 

He unclips your bra, letting it fall to the floor. He groans at the sight, feeling his cock twitch in his pants. But just as he leans down, cupping one of your breasts with his hand and kissing the other one, the door swings open and he is quick to fix your shirt so that whoever just walked in won’t see what’s meant for his eyes only. Probably a cleaning lady, he forgot about the possibility of one of them coming in. Still though, how unlucky did he have to be to be interrupted both times he was about to be intimate with you? 

He opens his eyes, ready to apologize to the lady for still being here but he stops when his eyes land on a male figure instead, the words catching in his throat. 

“What the hell is going on here?” Your father’s voice rings in your ears and you quickly stumble forward to collect your bra from the floor, hiding behind your boyfriend to put it back on. Jake clears his throat in the meantime, opening his mouth and closing it again because truly, he had no idea what the appropriate answer to that question was. 

“Sim?” His voice is stronger now, sending shivers down Jake’s spine. “We uhm– this isn’t–” he tries to figure something out but when he comes to the conclusion there’s no possible way out of this, he closes his mouth again. 

He calls out your name next and you squeeze your eyes shut as you take a step forward again, standing by Jake’s side. “We are going home. Now. And you, Sim,” he turns to him again, staring a hole in the middle of his eyes. “We will talk about this later. I thought you had a good shot at making it somewhere but you– don’t expect to play on my team again.” 

“What?!” You and Jake shout at the same time. You immediately look at him, your eyes full of regret while his just show…fear, vulnerability. You hate seeing that. “You can’t be serious!” you yell, looking at your father again. “You can’t– He is your best player! You’ve seen him play today! You hugged him and called him son!” you remind him but your dad just scoffs. “I’m not talking to you about this. Take your things and get to the car. End of discussion.” 

“No, you–” you try to argue again but Jake stops you, holding your hand in his and making you look at him. “It’s fine, darling,” he assures you, giving you one of his smiles, except this time it not only feels but also looks forced. You open your mouth again but he leans down and presses his lips on yours, squeezing your hand tightly so you’d know he is there. “I don’t regret you in the tiniest bit,” he says gently, slowly letting you go. The pain in his eyes makes it feel like your heart is being ripped out of your chest and there is nothing you can do about it. You hate the feeling. 

“Go,” he nods, mouthing the words “text you” as he places his hand on your lower back and guides you forward until you finally move on your own, stopping only once you reach your dad. “Fuck you,” you look him straight in the eyes with not a single care in the world before walking past him to get outside. 

Jake exhales deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I love her,” he proclaims confidently, catching his coach off guard. Your dad stands at the door, still trying to make sense of what just happened and if you really cussed him out. He focuses on Jake again, his glare never falling. “And honestly, I don’t care if you won’t let me play because of it. But we both know Heeseung won’t perform that well without his duo and it’ll only be a matter of time before the team falls.” 

“Are you threatening me?” He raises an eyebrow in disbelief. 

“No. That’s your hobby lately, don’t you think?” Jake doesn’t say anything else, taking all his things along with your jacket that you left just lying on one of the benches and making his way past the coach. He stops again in the doorway, hesitating for a second. “I won’t stop seeing her.” 

“Right,” the coach mumbles but all the confidence he had while yelling at the two before is gone, replaced with uncertainty and fear. “Good luck with the rest of the season,” Jake adds, the genuinity in his voice only pissing off the coach more. 

The door closes again and just like that, he’s standing there alone. He needs to blink a few times to gain control again because everything about this conversation was only proving him of the fact he had no control anymore. His little girl was growing up faster than he could comprehend, and his team was slipping through his fingers just as fast. He knew what Jake was like and that he had a great potential to continue with hockey and honestly, he wasn’t sure if he was protecting his daughter’s future on Jake’s. 

“Darling,” he breathes out as he slides into the driver’s seat. You don’t turn to look at your dad though, focusing solely on the game on your phone. He sighs, running a hand through his hair before fastening his seatbelt. “I’m just looking out for you. You have the whole life ahead of you, so many opportunities and goals to still achieve.” 

You scoff, ending the game and switching to instagram to scroll through new posts, not paying him the slightest bit of attention. Your childhood nickname falls from his lips and you squeeze your phone tighter, holding onto the last bit of strength you had. He sighs again, starting the car and driving off the parking lot. 

You sit in silence, still on your phone and texting Jake to even notice the road you’re taking, ignoring the way you catch your dad’s eyes in the rearview mirror every now and then. 

you [14:26]: The worst card ride ever Jake [14:26]: it’ll be fine love  Jake [14:26]: you just need to make it back to the dorm and then we can go out Jake [14:26]: I’ll take you out on dinner, hm? Jake [14:26]: what do you say? you [14:27]: I say that I’d absolutely love that Jake [14:27]: okay good <3  Jake [14:27]: I need to give you back your jacket anyway

It’s only then that you notice the missing piece of clothes, smiling as you read his messages. No matter how mad you were seconds ago, he managed to calm you down in the single minute you talked with him. And that was something you weren’t giving up on, no matter how much your dad wanted you to. 

you [14:28]: Shouldn’t it be me stealing your clothes sir? Jake [14:28]: Just say a word and all my hoodies are yours Jake [14:28]: I’d actually kill to see you in my clothes Jake [14:28]: Please

You giggle, stretching your legs slightly. Your dad looks at you immediately, the grip he has on the steering wheel tightening as he notices Jake’s name on your screen, a mix of emotions rushing through him. He wants to be happy for you, cheer you on in your relationship if he had you smiling like this, but he just can’t push aside the thoughts of what the future holds. You being with Jake could make him give up his career for you or it could make you give up on your dreams in order to support him just like your mom did, and he would hate for that to happen. 

you [14:29]: That could be arranged  you [14:29]: If we happen to go back to your dorm after dinner and casually decide to sleep over I’ll need to wear something Jake [14:29]: I’m telling the guys to find a different place to sleep at tonight Jake [14:29]: Can’t let them see that

The smile on your lips never leaves, not even when you finally look up from your phone and see the unfamiliar road, frowning. “Where are you taking me?” 

“Home,” he answers simply and it takes you a second he isn’t talking about your dorm. “What? I have plans, I don’t have time to drive home and back.” 

“You should have thought about that before I saw you half naked with my player,” he says through gritted teeth, more judging than he intended. He’s not sure why he says it in the first place. He really wants to reconcile with you, forget about the whole thing and act like nothing happened but for some reason, every time he opens his mouth, the wrong words come out. 

“I’m an adult!” you remind him, looking at the time on your phone. “You can’t be fucking serious.” 

“Language!” You huff, taking a deep breath as you finally turn your head to face him fully. “The fact you’re mad at me doesn’t mean you’ll be speaking to me like that.” 

You don’t say anything back, writing Jake a quick text explaining the situation before turning your phone off and placing it down in your lap, crossing your arms as you watch the road ahead. If he wanted to kidnap you then so be it. It’s not like you would sit around saying nothing forever. 

“Honey, how come you’re so late?” Your mother’s voice makes you look up as you step out of the car, her eyes lighting up immediately the moment she sees you. You smile, greeting her warmly and walking over to her. “What are you doing here? I need to cook something for dinner! You’re staying, right?” She asks, hopeful and excited. You chuckle, nodding. “I didn’t plan on visiting this weekend but dad kidnapped me so I had no choice,” you shoot him a look but he ignores it, taking his things from the car and coming to greet his wife with a kiss. 

“Kidnapped her?” She asks confusedly but he just brushes it off, saying that you’re talking nonsense. You scoff, moving past both of your parents inside the house. It’s been around a month since you last came by, with school and Jake keeping you busy, there wasn’t a chance for it before. And even though you didn’t want to be here, you would be lying if you said you don’t like being home. 

You pull out your phone again, glancing back to make sure your parents are still outside before you start a video call. You don’t even have a chance to fix your hair or make sure you look good when the call goes through, Jake’s face lighting up your screen immediately. You smile, a soft “hi” leaving your lips. “You ran away or something?” He asks after a greeting. 

Rolling your eyes, you glance behind yourself again before walking towards your room. “No, I successfully made it home. Want to see my room?” You ask but before he can even answer you enter the room, giving him a quick tour when he says he needs to see every corner, mentioning something about how a childhood bedroom creates a character and he needs to see everything. He’s a bit weird but honestly, you couldn’t find him more attractive. 

You sit down on your bed, resting your head against the headboard, watching him talk about how the guys jumped at him the moment he stepped into his room, congratulating him on his play. The excitement in his eyes as he talks about hockey makes your heart melt, until you remember your dad’s words. Don’t expect to play on my team again. 

Hockey was his whole life, the thing he was the most excited about, something he spent every free minute thinking about, you couldn’t be the reason why it was taken from him. You’d rather never step on the ice again yourself if it meant he could still play. 

“Heeseung said that he spoke to one of the scouts after the game, apparently they are thinking about me!” He grins and you can’t help but smile. “That’s amazing, Jake. I knew you could do it from the moment I first saw you.” He gives you a look but the smile never leaves his lips. “You told me I’m terrible and need to fix everything.” 

You shrug, laughing. “Yeah, that was me telling you I think you’re amazing.” 

“So you were in love with me back then,” he teases, making you roll your eyes again. You open your mouth to answer but a soft knock on the door interrupts you. You give Jake a quick look so he stays quiet and watch the door open, your mom walking in with her usual gentle smile. 

“Is that the boyfriend of yours?” She asks, immediately noticing the cause of your smile. You nod, biting the inside of your cheek. She walks over to you, sitting down on the edge of your bed. “Can I?” You don’t hesitate before moving closer to her, holding the phone so Jake could see both of you. He immediately greets her, the boyish grin on his face making you roll your eyes. “Jake, was it?” she questions and he introduces himself fully, saying that he’d offer her a hand as well had it been a different situation. It’s lame but she laughs nonetheless. “Well, we can shake hands when you come to visit next week. My daughter told you about it, right?” 

“She did,” he nods. “And I’d love to come, if I’m welcome to, I mean.” 

“Dear, of course! I wouldn’t have invited you if you weren’t.” 

“Dad isn’t a big fan,” you mumble, causing Jake to chuckle and your mom turn to you. “He met him before I could?” There’s a hint of betrayal in her voice but you already know that once she knows the full story it will be replaced with something else—disappointment. Not towards you, but your father. 

“Jake is on his team, the captain.” 

“Was,” Jake corrects and you roll your eyes again. “I was on the team, but Coach kicked me out today.” 

Your mother’s brows furrow, already sensing something iffy about it. “Why would he do that?” 

“Ask him, I’d love to know the reason as well,” you say, getting more and more annoyed as you speak. You sigh, running a hand through your hair to calm yourself. “Let’s not talk about it now, though. And for your information,” you turn towards Jake again, a shy smile spread across your face. “I’d love to have you here.” 

“Then I’ll definitely come,” he assures both of you, watching as your mom’s smile grows wider. She sits there with you for a bit longer, asking Jake about all sorts of things and watching you interact together, somehow feeling proud. She always wished you the best in life, and from what she saw in the short moments, Jake was exactly that. 

She goes to leave the room but stops again as her hand grabs the doorknob, glancing back at you one last time. “I’m not sure what you and your dad did to each other but I don’t want to stir the pot even more so, honey, try to cover that hickey of yours so he doesn’t have a reason to freak out,” she winks at you before disappearing from the room. 

Your cheeks grow red from embarrassment as you lean closer to your phone, looking at the hickey Jake has left on your neck in your front camera. He laughs on the other side of the phone, saying that it looks great but you only send him a pointed look. You groan, “I’m going to strangle you, Jake Sim.” It’s a threat, but he smiles. “With your thighs I hope.” 

You close your eyes, exhaling tiredly but Jake notices your lips twitch as you try to hold back your smile. He knows he’s got you exactly where he wants. 

You spend another thirty minutes on the call with him before finally stumbling out of your room as the smell of chicken hits your nose. Your dad tells you to sit that as he plates everything so you do, playing with your sleeve awkwardly. 

The food is set on the table soon after and your parents both sit opposite you, your mom asking you about exams and friends casually while your dad eats in silence, humming sometimes as a form of response. 

You stare at your plate for a few seconds before deciding to look up, catching your dad’s eyes at the same time. He sighs, visibly exhausted. You’re not sure if it’s because of the continuous arguing with you or just today’s game, though. “You didn’t mean it, did you? That you’re not going to let him play anymore.” 

Something flickers in his eyes, a moment of hesitance, regret maybe, you don’t know. He doesn’t answer, just putting another piece of meat into his mouth. You don’t just let it go like he seems to want, though. “He is your best player and you know it. You can’t kick him out just because he is dating your daughter instead of being fucking happy for me.” 

That seems to work because he winces, finally looking at you, really looking at you. “Darling,” your mom coos softly, tilting her head slightly, almost as if to tell you to calm down. You shake your head, refusing to drop the conversation. “I’ll…I won’t go on the ice ever again like you wanted, I won’t be near when you have practices and I’ll stop coming to games just please.” The plea sends a shiver down his spine, making him drop his fork on the table. 

“I don’t want you to give up on skating for him.” 

“So you’d rather make him give up on his whole future for me? Because we both know he doesn’t plan on leaving. If he did, he wouldn’t have talked to me again after you told him to stop seeing me the first time. And honestly, I don’t want to leave either.” 

“You did what?” Your mother turns her attention to your dad immediately, slapping him across his shoulder. “That poor boy does nothing but make our daughter happy and you told him to stop seeing her?” You knew that if someone was going to have your back it’d be your mom but you didn’t expect her to be so into it. She didn’t know Jake. There was no reason for her to get all worked up and start a whole argument with him. 

But, you weren’t going to stop her. 

You watch your parents argue for a while, your mom telling your dad he’s unreasonable and should finally realize you’re an adult while he tells her something about thinking about the future of the both of you, which only makes things worse. They start arguing about how their situation used to be similar and he doesn’t want you to go through the same thing your mom did but you disappear then, figuring that’s not a conversation you should be a part of. 

Later that night, a knock on the door makes you look up from your phone. You expect it to be your mom, after all, it’s always been her who talked to you after they had arguments when you were little, wanting you to know it was all okay and you didn’t need to worry about anything, but when the door opens, it’s your dad you see standing there. You sit up, nodding for him to come in. He sighs, closing the door behind himself as he pulls out a chair from your table, placing it right in front of your bed and taking a seat. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, running a hand through his hair. You frown, not saying anything as you watch him, waiting for him to say more, explain himself. “I know it’s stupid and unreasonable,” he repeats your mother’s words, his brows furrowing in a way that tells you he doesn’t completely agree with it. “You know I love you, right?” He finally looks up to meet your eyes and you nod, a part of you feeling bad when you see the look on his face. The regret you thought you saw before is now way more visible, accompanied with a sign of simple care. “And I love the boys on my team, all of them. I think…Jake is a great kid, darling.” 

His words catch you off guard but you still stay quiet, knowing that’s not all he wants to say. “When me and your mom met we were around the same age as you, did you know that?” He doesn’t give you enough time to answer before he continues. “She wanted to be a doctor, she had her whole life figured out while the only thing I knew was that all I wanted to do was skate and be with her.” You smile, the thought of your parents at your age warming your heart. You can see yourself and Jake in their place. You can see Jake loving you all the years later just like your father loves your mom. 

“Then I got an offer, a contract with a team I really wanted to join. It was on the other side of the country and your mom…she dropped everything without thinking about it so she could go with me. I know she doesn’t regret it now, and neither do I, but knowing she gave up her future plan for me ate me alive for years.” 

“I never wanted to see you go through the same, so I did what I thought was the best at the time; told you not to skate so you couldn’t meet any hockey players that could mess with your future. I know it’s stupid, that it’s up to you what you do with your life I just…I simply didn’t want hockey to be the reason for another girl I love to lose something she’s passionate about.” 

You stand up from your bed, regretting all the bad words you said about your dad in the past few days. He watches you walk over to him, waiting for you to say something, anything, but you just pull him into a hug. “I love you too, dad,” you mumble. “And I’m sorry for cussing you out before.” He chuckles softly as he pulls back, shaking his head. “I deserved it.” 

“I’m not going to force Jake to leave my team, by the way. I’d be incredibly stupid to let that sort of talent escape.” You grin proudly, thanking him. “And…if it’s something you both want then,” he clears his throat, visibly stalling as he thinks it over. “Then I’d like to see him come with you next time,” he nods slightly, almost as if he was approving of his own words. “But just, please, promise me you won’t make your whole life about hockey, his games and plans. Promise me that if you stay together, you’ll figure something out while you both do what you love, even if it means being away from each other for a while.” 

You nod, it’s the least you can do. “We will,” you agree. 

Not having to hide a whole hockey player from your dad feels great. You still have to stay professional while filming the guys and limit Jake’s neediness while being around your dad but that’s understandable. And Jake knows that as well, still, he loves pushing the limits. 

“So, you’re going to be at our game tomorrow, right?” Jake asks, his hands resting on each side of you on the bench, trapping you in. He hovers over you, and even though you want nothing more than to pull him into a make out session when he gives you that boyish grin of his again, the presence of your father next to you reminds you to think straight. 

“Yeah,” you nod slightly, unable to take your eyes off him. He smirks, quickly glancing at his coach before leaning closer to you, stopping just below your ear. “And then you’ll let me go for as many rounds as I score.” He says it like it’s a deal you agreed to before but when he backs up again, there’s a question in his eyes, mixing with a sign of hope and mischief. “You better score a lot then,” you smirk, pressing your hand on his chest and pushing him off gently. “Go practice.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he does a little prince bow, winking at you once more before putting on his helmet and skating away, joining the others. 

“Is Jake going to drive you afterwards or should I wait and take both of you?” Your dad asks, keeping his eyes on the boys while sitting down beside you now that Jake’s gone. “Jake will drive. I agreed to go grab some food with the team after the game so we’ll drive on our own.” He nods, glancing at you again. “And he’ll be staying the whole week?” 

“The whole week,” you agree, causing a sigh to leave your dad’s lips. “In your room?” You roll your eyes, “yes, in my room. And in my bed, you’re not expecting me to make him sleep on the floor or something, are you?” 

“No,” he answers through gritted teeth, making sure you know he isn’t exactly happy with the arrangements. “Just don’t…no, nevermind, I’m not talking about this,” he shakes his head aggressively. “I’ll talk to Jake instead.” Your eyes widen, realization hitting you. “Don’t talk about sex with my boyfriend!” you smack his arm. 

“I need to talk to him as a worried coach to make sure my player doesn’t get a girl pregnant in his prime year,” he shoots you a pointed look and you sigh. The following week was going to test your strength and love for your father a lot. 

8:00 am lights up your phone before you knock on Jake’s door, watching as it swings open immediately. Jake doesn’t hesitate before grabbing your hand and pulling you against him, your bodies colliding together. “What’s going on?” you ask, blinking a few times. “Why was I supposed to come?” 

“The guys are out, they went for breakfast as Jay’s pregame ritual,” he explains, still holding your hand as he takes you towards his bed. “I’d like to start a pregame tradition with you as well,” he explains, his eyes glinting with need. “Oh?” Your lips curl into a smirk as you sit on the bed. “And what might that be?” 

Jake kneels down in front of you on the floor, gently pushing your legs open, keeping his hands on your inner thighs as he looks up at you. And god damn is he the hottest person you’ve ever seen. “Can I eat you out?” You blink, feeling hotter just at the thought of that. You bite your bottom lip, slowly nodding. His smile grows wider, his eyes lighting up as if he was a little kid whose parents allowed him to eat ice cream before dinner. 

He stays on the floor, sliding off your jeans, groaning quietly as his eyes land on your panties. “God, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he sounds desperate and your body responds immediately. He runs his fingers over your clothed cunt and the whine that leaves his lips makes a shiver run down your spine. If this was his reaction to barely seeing you, how loud on earth was he going to be during the whole deal? 

It takes no time for him to slide your panties down to your ankles, moving his head closer to you immediately, keeping his eyes on yours as he licks a long strap from your hole to your clit. “Fuck,” you moan quietly, grinding your hips against his face. He smirks, his grip on your thighs tightening as he holds you in place, firm enough so you can’t move on your own. “Relax, baby. I’m going to take my sweet time with your little pussy.” 

And he does. He absolutely fucking does, to the point it drives you crazy. Your legs shake and you squirm under him as he lazily sucks on your clit. It’s torture but god, he’s also the greatest pussy eater you’ve met, definitely the most eager one from everyone you’ve been with. His whines and groans fill your ear and the only thing you can focus on is how he sounds against your wet cunt. “I’m gonna–” your breath hitches and he sucks harder. “Wait just a bit longer, baby.” 

Jake’s hand slides to his pants, pulling out his throbbing cock and slowly palming himself while he brings you closer to your orgasm, his free hand still digging into the flesh of your thigh. “Need you to hold it in, love. Want to cum together,” he groans, his tongue flicking between your folds. “God, your pussy is so good.” 

You whine, your eyes closed as your hand finds his head, pushing him closer against your clit, needing the release. You feel him smirk, letting his cock free for a minute as he holds you with both hands again, opening your legs wider. “Jake!” 

“Fuck,” he whines again, pulling away from you completely which only causes you to whimper. “Say it again.” 

“What?” You shoot your eyes to him again, shaking your head as you try to bring him closer again. You fail. “Say my name again, say it over and over again and I’ll let you cum, okay?” You nod, his name leaving your lips in a broken whine. “That’s my girl,” he smirks before dipping in again. You gasp at his harsh suck but you definitely don’t complain. “Jake, Jak–Jake–mhm.” 

“Yes, baby, it’s me. I’m making you feel all good, aren’t I?” You nod fiercely, throwing your head back as you tug on his hair lightly. He whines again, finally bringing you to your climax with one last lick. Your legs tremble around his head but he doesn’t seem to mind at all, giving you a few more licks so you can ride it out before coming up to you, stealing a kiss from you immediately. “You taste fucking amazing, you feel that?” 

The taste of your own cum on his lips feels weird but you never pull away from him, only deepening the kiss. You glance down quickly, finding his hand palming over his length again as he kisses you, trying to reach his own climax. You wrap your hand around his and he smirks against your lips. “Want to help with that?” 

Your mouth is wrapped around his tip quickly, looking up at him as you move your head for some sort of reassurance. Which is exactly what you get as he cups your face, moaning loudly at the sight of you. He could watch you forever, especially when you’re stuffed with his cock. 

“God, baby, have I told you you’re absolutely gorgeous?” He groans again and you only suck harder instead of responding. He starts blabbing things after that, soft praises leaving his lips as if it was the only thing he knew how to do. You stop paying attention to them in the middle of it but your body still responds, your pussy getting wet again. 

You pull back slightly just to tease him but Jake doesn’t seem to like it much as he thrusts back into your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gag but don’t pull back again, relaxing your mouth completely and letting him gently thrust into you on his own. He doesn’t care, closing his eyes and gently brushing his thumb on your cheek just to feel himself. 

He comes down your throat slowly after and you gag again, pulling back completely before swallowing. He praises you again and again, kissing you as if you are the air he breathes. Because to him, you are. Your bodies wrap together as your kisses turn gentler, more loving. 

You just lay in the bed for a while, leaving wet kisses all over each other’s bodies, leaving marks behind before Jake’s alarm rings and he takes you to the bathroom, helping you clean up in the shower. When both of you are done washing he throws a jersey over your head, making you glance down confusedly. You had your own team clothes to wear with the team logo and everything but before you could protest your eyes land on the number on the jersey, realizing it’s his. 

“You want me to wear this?” 

“I want everyone at the rink to know my gorgeous, talented, lovely and smart girlfriend already belongs to someone,” he whispers, capturing your lips in another kiss. You smile, nodding slightly. In that case, you were going to wear his jersey for the rest of your life.

As soon as the game ends Jake runs into your arms, picking you up and spinning around before pushing his lips against yours. You giggle, wrapping your hands around his neck and pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. 

Tigers won 5-2, three of those points scored by Jake because as you later found out, he told Heeseung about your little deal and so he helped him get as many goals as possible. You don’t even care, for all you care he could have scored zero and you’d still let him have whatever he wants. 

Your dad clears his throat behind you and Jake gently places you back to the ground, grinning happily. “How was that?” 

“Amazing,” Taehyun pats his back from behind, the other guys slowly joining in. “As the MVP today you’re buying, right?” Heeseung wiggles his eyebrows as he wraps his arm around Jake’s shoulder, making him scoff. “I only buy food for my lover and myself, I don’t think you fit in either of those categories,” Jake shakes him off quickly. You shake your head at the interaction, the smile on your face never leaving as you congratulate them all. 

Jake wraps his hand around your waist, keeping you close as he talks to his team about the game. You don’t mind at all. You wrap your arm around him as well, smiling back at his friends when they give you a teasing, knowing look. This time, your dad seems to have the same smile on his face, looking at Jake more proudly than as if it was a warning. 

“Okay, go change quickly so we can go,” you say, placing a quick peck on his cheek to which Heeseung laughs with a whistle, taking your boyfriend from you. Jake mumbles something under his breath but you don’t pay it any attention, watching him leave with a smile. 

“The jersey suits you,” your dad speaks all of a sudden, making you turn to him. “Yeah?” You bite your lip nervously, looking down. “Thank you. For accepting him,” you smile, looking at him again. He rolls his eyes, almost as if that wasn’t exactly true, yet. “He still needs to work for it. I’ll have my eye on him during the whole week.” You chuckle, nodding. “Have fun with that.” 

It’s four pm when you finally part ways with the rest of the guys, your fingers laced with Jake’s as you walk towards his car, sliding into the passenger seat after he opens the door for you. He settles in the driver’s position, looking around. “Did you have fun?” He wonders, his voice soft, soothing. You smile, reaching for his hand again as you assure him it was great. 

“But next time, let’s eat alone, just the two of us, yeah?” 

You agree, squeezing his hand in his. “I’d love that.” 

“Good,” Jake smiles, leaning in and capturing your lips with his. “How about dinner tomorrow?” He asks between kisses, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. You hum against his lips, agreeing. Your fingers tangle in his hair, keeping him close as you deepen the kiss, enjoying the alone time with him. You were definitely going to make use of all the time you have during this break, with no roommates standing in your way and no exams watching over your back. 

You stay in the parking lot for a few more minutes, sharing kisses and light touches with soft giggles that make you fall for him just a bit more. “I like you so much,” you mumble and Jake’s grip on your waist tightens. “Yeah?” He teases, a smirk forming on his lips. You roll your eyes at his reaction, kissing him again. “I like you a lot too,” he says and even though you’ve heard him say it many times before, it warms your heart in a way that makes you feel like he just said the other L-word for the first time. 

“Let’s go,” Jake leans back in his seat, finally starting the car and driving off. His right hand rests on your thigh soon after, his eyes focused on the road. You smile, stealing glances at your boyfriend as he drives you home. You could definitely get used to this. 

Jake grabs your bags from the truck of his car while you open the front door of your house, greeting your parents before running out again to help him. However, when you reach him, asking him to give you one of the bags so he doesn’t carry it all on his own, he just brushes you off, saying he’s got it. You know he does, that he could easily pick you up as well but you still want to help. 

“Love, just go inside and watch me with your pretty eyes, yeah? I’m not gonna have you carry some bags when there’s no reason for you to.” 

You roll your eyes but still listen, walking in empty-handed with your boyfriend right behind you. “Dear, go help the poor boy,” your mum nudges your father immediately when her eyes land on Jake. He however shakes his head, still refusing any help. Your dad scoffs but there’s a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Which room is yours?” You point towards a door and he nods, leaving you in the hallway alone. 

“He’s more handsome in person,” your mom teases immediately, making you roll your eyes with a smile and your dad grumble something. “Please, just let him breathe. Both of you.” You mom giggles, taking your dad with herself back to the kitchen so they can resume cooking and you quickly run to your room. 

Jake is sitting on your bed and looking around the room when you come inside. His eyes immediately flicker to you and he opens his arms with a smile, telling you to come closer. You step between his legs, letting him wrap his arms around your waist and rest his head on your stomach. 

The two of you settle in your bed, laptop opened on Jake’s lap as you watch a movie, cuddling together. The moment is sweet, relaxing, something he’s been craving after the intense game earlier. When your mom comes into the room to tell you dinner is almost ready, Jake immediately jumps out, offering his help. 

You watch him joke around with your mom as he moves around the kitchen, helping her finish up. He starts a conversation about today’s game with your dad as well, listening to all his feedback. It makes your heart ache. It’s like he belongs there, in the small space of the kitchen, in your family, in your life. You experienced relationships and grew to realize they weren’t easy, they were hard, with obstacles on every corner but with Jake, it was the opposite. You thought it would be hard, and it was for a while at first but now, it just seemed like this was how things were supposed to be. 

“How many points did you score today?” Your mom asks curiously, setting down a plate in front of Jake. He smirks, glancing at you for a brief moment before answering. “Three. But I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t score anything if it wasn’t for your daughter cheering me on the whole time.” Your mom smiles proudly and you blush, kicking his feet under the table. He chuckles, his hand finding a way to your thigh and giving it a tight squeeze. You stay quiet after that. 

The conversation flows naturally as you continue eating. Your mom talks about memories from your childhood, family vacations, how you first started skating, and even some of your more embarrassing stories you’d rather forget. Your cheeks flush red and it takes everything in you not to shut down the conversation immediately. However, when the familiar sounds of Jake’s quiet laugh rings in your ears and you notice the happiness on his face, you stop yourself. The embarrassment you felt slowly turns into something softer, more gentle. 

Jake eases into the rhythm of your family quickly, assuring your father of his good intentions every time he feels the warry in his eyes, joking around with your mother as she sets the picture of little you into his head. He bets you were the cutest kid. 

He offers to help with cleaning the dishes but your mom refuses, telling him to go spend more time with you, which he happily agrees to. You roll your eyes when you hear their conversation but lead Jake back to your room nonetheless. 

“Your mom loves me,” Jake grins proudly, closing the door shut behind you. You smile, shaking your head. “Don’t let it get into your pretty head, captain. That doesn’t mean you’re not being watched by my father all the time,” you close the space between you, your voice teasing. When you look up at him, he’s smirking. “Call me that again,” something flickers in his eyes as his hands find your hips, pressing your body against his. 

“Captain?” you raise an eyebrow at his request but the tease in your voice never falls. “Is that what turns you on?” you whisper, pressing onto him more until his back reaches the door. “Maybe,” he leans closer, claiming your lips with his as his hands wander to your lower back, taking in every inch of your body as he moves lower, giving your ass a tight squeeze before lifting you up as if you weigh nothing. 

You wrap your legs around his hips, your fingers tangling in his hair as you deepen the kiss, a soft moan escaping your lips. “God, you’re absolutely beautiful.” A shiver runs down your spine as he says your name. “Tell me what you want, baby. What you want me to do.” No words leave your mouth as you press your lips on his again, pressing your hips on his harder as a form of answer. He smirks again, walking over to your bed where he drops you. You gasp but can’t help and laugh as he comes closer, spreading your legs and settling between them. 

“Words, love. I want words from you.” You moan again as he presses himself against you, feeling his bulge through the layers of clothing you’re both wearing. “Anything, everything–” you gasp when he rolls his hips against yours in a slow, teasing motion. “You promised three rounds, Captain.” 

Jake grins, watching your lips part as his hands wander over your body again. Gentle touch on your shoulder, his fingers brushing over the skin of your arms, his hands coming under your shoulder to trace over your stomach and breast. Your breath shakes as you watch him, your eyes following his every movement. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” he mumbles, kissing you hungrily, the kiss able to convey all his feelings. “Dreamed of you like this.” His right hand moves lower, stopping between your legs and pressing it over your core. 

“Jake,” you gasp as his lips move lower, leaving wet kisses and marks over your jaw and neck. He hums against your skin, pulling off your pants with ease. “Yes, baby?” He asks as he slides your panties to the side, his fingers flicking between your folds. “What do you need, tell me.” 

You grind your hips against him on an instinct, a soft whimper of his name leaving your lips. “Need you, need– fuck,” you whine, looking up at him. “Come here, closer. Need you closer.” He smirks, leaning down and holding your chin with his left hand, making you look at him. “That’s it, baby. Use your words,” he kisses you again, his tongue fighting with yours as he rips your panties away, making you yelp. 

You barely register him pulling his pants off as he cups your breast in his hands, massaging them as he waits for your every reaction. His mind is clouded with thoughts of you, what he’s going to do, what kind of pleasure he would bring you. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. He needs to hold himself back not to cum untouched just from the way you look at him. 

“In, Jake, please,” you beg and something in him flickers. He moans, the sound sending a shiver through your whole body, and pushes your legs up, making you hold them. His eyes focus on your cunt, aligning his cock with your entrance. “God, you’re so fucking wet, darling. I can just slide into you–” he pushes his tip in, making you gasp, “with ease.”  

Your nails dig into his shoulders, your mouth wide open, the only sounds leaving your lips being a few broken gasps, barely audible once. Yet, they are loud enough for Jake. He leans closer, placing a few open-mouthed kisses on your collarbone. “So good,” he moans against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. “It’s like you were made for me entirely,” he praises, his kisses lowering to your breast. He lets out a silent grunt as your nails dig deeper but he never backs away. 

“I–” I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. The words are loud and clear in his head, the urge to say them out loud for the whole world to hear so strong he has to bite down his tongue not to do so. But, god, does he want nothing more. “I need you so bad,” he says in the end instead, listening to your quiet moans as he thrusts into you, quickening his pace. 

Your eyes roll back, one of your hands squeezing the sheets beneath you while the other finds Jake’s, lacing your fingers together. Your bodies move against each other, the room getting hotter each second as you get closer to your climax. “So good,” he praises you again, his teeth digging into the soft skin of your shoulder. “Jake, I’m gonna–” You don’t even get to finish your sentence as he thrusts harder into you, making you gasp. It only takes a few more quick hip movements before your breath shakes and you reach your orgasm. 

Jake pulls out right after, cursing under his breath as he palms himself over your stomach, finding his release as well. “Mhm–more,” you beg, holding onto his wrist. He goes crazy over your words, flipping you onto your stomach with ease. “You want more?” he asks with a smirk, pressing his body against your back as he leans to your ear. “You better have a condom on hand then because I do not want to be pulling out again.” 

Your whole body trembles as you point towards a drawer beside your bed, watching his hand reach for it. It takes a few seconds but the same hand rests on your back soon, tracing his fingers across your spine, making you arch your back. He chuckles when you raise your ass, your breast pressing against your mattress. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, giving your ass a tight squeeze once again before he feel him enter you from behind again. 

You lose track of time, how long it takes for Jake to bring you to your climax again, how much time passes before he goes down on you, encouraging you on your third release of that night, you don’t remember how many times you truly come on his tongue either, everything getting blurry in your head, the only thing you can focus on being Jake’s moans and whines. It’s music to your ears, just as much as your moans are to his based on what he tells you. 

I love you. Jake fights the words back again as he rests on top of you, gazing into your eyes as if you were the only thing he could see. Because to him, you were. “You did so well,” he says, cupping your cheek and brushing a few sweaty strands of your hair off your face. “You weren’t so bad yourself, Captain,” you smile back, pressing your lips on yours in a soft, gentle kiss. 

“Let me help you wash up?” You nod and he immediately stands up, ready to get to work. 

The rest of the week goes on like a dream. Jake takes you out every day, on dates, night strolls, buying you flowers or sweets the moment he sets his eyes on a shop for even a mere second. You certainly can’t say you’d mind. And somehow, in the mix of the days you spend with him, you notice a shift in your parents behaviour, mostly your dad’s. His intense stares, the ones supposed to dig a hole in the middle of Jake’s forehead, slowly turn softer, watching him with much more appreciation you’d dare to say. 

“You need to come back soon, dear,” your mother says, making you roll your eyes as she eagerly holds Jake’s hands. “Shouldn’t you be saying that to your own daughter?” You question, watching as your boyfriend leaves out a soft laugh. “I’d love to visit soon again, I’m sure we can arrange something,” he agrees and she finally lets go of his hands. You replace his spot, hugging her goodbye with a promise of finding time to visit. 

“Sir,” Jake smiles as he steps in front of your father. They stay silent for a moment, watching each other before they both laugh, your dad pulling him into a hug, as if he was the son he called him before he became your boyfriend again. “I’d like to say you surprised me but I always knew you would be good to her.” 

“Did not seem like it before,” you comment, watching their exchange. Your dad sends you a look but doesn’t say anything. “Just…continue treating her right,” your dad turns his attention back to Jake, “otherwise, your death can still be arranged.” Your mom slaps his shoulder but Jake only laughs, nodding. “I promise to treat her like a princess,” he assures him, mocking a prince’s bow to prove his point. You shake your head at him, locking his arm with yours. “Let’s go.” 

He listens well, that’s something you’ve learnt over the past few days. Your bag swings over his shoulder as he laces his fingers with you, saying one last goodbye to your mom before leaving the house, taking you to his car. 

And as if the dream was to never end, the attention he pays to you, the care he holds for you, never disappears, only growing each day. He keeps to his promise and with every longing look from across the rink, every touch of his when you find yourselves back in your room, and every word he says to you, you find yourself falling for him more and more. 

“Oh but that’s not all,” he laughs, forming a grimace similar to disgust. “As if the whole conversation with Jay wasn’t weird enough on its own, I walk into the bathroom and boom, a lady hiding in there,” he says, skating ahead. You chuckle, following him with ease and listening to his stories. “I ran off immediately and called Sunghoon not to come back to the dorm anytime soon. Something Jay should have done for sure.” 

“But there’s a good thing that comes from it,” he turns around to face you, one of his boyish grins on again. “It gave me a reason not to be in my dorm studying, and also an excuse to see you.” You shake your head slightly, quickening your movements slightly to reach him. He offers you his hand immediately and you hold it without hesitation, letting him pull you closer. “I missed you.” 

“We’ve seen each other earlier today,” you remind him. 

“Not the same. Far from it.” 

You smile, not saying anything for a while as you simply let him guide you around the rink, your eyes locked with his. It’s quiet and yet, it feels like everything about the moment is loud and clear, letting the emotions you’ve been feeling for a while come out. 

“I love you,” you whisper. 

Jake’s eyes widen and he stops in his tracks, making you bump into him. “Say it again,” he begs, his eyes flickering from yours to your lips. “Please.” 

You smile, cupping his cheek. “I love you, Jake.” 

“God,” he breaths out, his arms wrapping around your waist as he picks you off the ground and spins around. “You just made me the happiest man on earth, you know that?” You laugh, telling him to put you back down. The moment he does, his lips find yours in a tender kiss, telling you everything you need to know. He pulls back and smiles, pressing his forehead on yours, “I love you.” 

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[writingsbychlo]

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE | mattheo riddle

summary; mattheo is your slightly toxic, slightly unhinged, but absolutely adoring and completely obsessed boyfriend.

word count; 7077

notes; literally the moment I started watching the PPP music video I was like 'oh it's so matty coded' and this came to mind immediately. I didn't intend for it to get so long, it was supposed to be a short drabble. whoops.

The first time you met Mattheo Riddle, you were just walking out of detention as he was walking in. 

Well, being dragged in by Madam Hooch, more like. He had blood on his face, and his knuckles, and he was smirking to himself as a sorry-looking Cormac trailed them inside. His eyes met yours, he’d winked, and you’d both continued to watch one another over your shoulders as you crossed paths, until the door shut. 

You were his, from that very first moment. 

The following days brought stolen glances across the classrooms and the Great Hall, his arrogant smirks and your shy smiles, and the look on his face that made you blush. You had to see him again, and opportunity presented itself that same Thursday, in Potions class, as Mattheo argued with Snape over… something. 

You’d tuned out, preferring to sit and watch him. He was just so pretty when he was mad. 

“That will be detention, Mr Riddle.” Snape drawled in that monotonous tone of his, and Mattheo glared across the classroom at the professor, who looked like he couldn't have cared less if he tried. “Unless anybody else has any objections, we can return to—”

Your book hit the ground with a resounding thud. The sound of it echoed around the room, and all eyes turned to you. You weren’t sure what exactly had brought it on, and your friends stared at you, horrified about the disruption. An excuse sat on the tip of your tongue, but then your eyes met those enchanting honey-brown ones, and he was smirking at you once again, a single brow raised. 

“Motherfucker.” You squeaked out, and after a pause that felt like it lasted an eternity, your professor sighed. 

“Very well. Detention for you, too.”

Your jaw dropped, heat flushed your face, and Mattheo’s smirk stretched into a smile. Another wink, and you were a goner. 

That same evening in detention, you’d been punctual and prompt, and he had sauntered in fifteen minutes late, sliding into the chair right beside you. Whispered conversations became jokes and confessions, inching closer and closer together, until you could count every little freckle that danced across his nose, and taste the nicotine and mint still on his breath when he spoke. His eyes held you captive, the stories he told had you on the edge of your seat, and the way his hand slid up your thigh had you burning. 

Your first kiss was a month later, when he’d made you promise not to get any more detentions just to see him. Instead, you’d waited outside the classroom, and the moment he’d been out, he’d given you that same flirty grin. Pressed up into the stone wall behind you, with one of his hands beside your head as the other sat on your waist, his tongue had slipped into your mouth. He’d tasted like chocolate and cigarettes, and you’d been intoxicated. 

And when he pulled back, his softest smile yet on his face as his hand had taken your own, you’d known that he was yours, too.

“What do you mean you’re going out with Mattheo Riddle?” Your friend hissed, her eyes wide as the two of you huddled close together, ducking along the corridors as you hurried to your next class. 

“Well, I mean that he asked me out on a date, and I said yes, so—”

“Don’t be sassy with me!” She scoffed, and you smiled, shrugging. She really had left herself wide open for that, it wasn’t your fault you took the chance she presented. “He’s bad news.”

“Oh, come on. What does that even mean?”

“It means that he’s bad for you. He’s bad for everyone!” Finally reaching the classroom —early, as always— the two of you settled in at your desk, unpacking your books, and still whispering despite the empty classroom you found yourselves in. Not even the professor had arrived yet. “He’s always getting in fights, and he’s always in trouble or detention, and— hey! I bet he’s the reason you’ve been getting a string of detentions lately, huh?”

You had no rebuff to that, heat coating your cheeks but you couldn't hide the smile that grew on your face at the mere thought of all your detention time spent together. “He told me not to do that anymore, that’s why he asked for a date! See? He’s good for me.”

“Oh, gee, what a saint he is.” She muttered, eyes rolling so hard you thought they’d fall out. All humour slowly dissipated between you both, and she frowned and opened her notebook, dipping a quill in fresh ink. As the seconds ticked by, tension grew between you both that you didn’t like. 

“Look, I know what people say about him, and the reputation he has, but he’s not like that with me. He’s not been like that with me.” Your hand lifted, scratching your cheek subconsciously. “It’s… not our first date. It’s just the first one I’ve told you about, because I knew you’d react like this. But, if you knew him like I did, you’d understand…”

Your voice trailed off, dreamy with a sigh and she turned to look at you. One of her brows raised as she put down her quill delicately. A beat passed, and her shoulders sagged, a little of the tension slipping free. “He really makes you happy? Because… I’m just worried about you, y’know?”

“I know, and I love you for that. But I just need you to be happy for me right now.”

“He’s going to break your heart. He’s going to make you cry, and hate the world, and I don’t like that.” 

Your hand slipped to hers, taking it in yours and squeezing. Flicking through your mind was the confidence brought on by every sweet word he whispered in your ear. All the soft kisses and touches. They didn’t know the kindness, and the devotion, and the loyalty. 

How could they, when they never gave him a chance? But his friends did, they saw the same side of him that you did. The version of him that would defend their name, and stop at nothing to make them happy. The version of him that didn’t believe the lies and the rumours, and never even looked at any other girls. 

They didn’t know how funny he was, how secretly cuddly he was, or how he just craved a little attention. They didn’t see him on the nights he’d sneak into your dorm just to crawl into bed and hold you, or the flowers he’d drop off outside your door. They didn’t see the love-hearts written on the corners of his notes in class or the way he got grumpy if he went too long without affection. 

You had good taste. You knew you did. It was just a shame nobody else saw it.

 “He won’t, I know he won’t.”

“I hope for your sake he proves me wrong.”

Mattheo was nothing if not a sweet-talker. He’d spent the morning covering you with kisses, and whispering into your ear about the date he would take you on tonight. By the end of the day, you’d been kissed on every inch of your face, and the husky tone of his voice was still ringing in your ears as he bid you goodbye, and promised to pick you up in a few hours. 

He’d been right on time, too. Knocking at your door at seven on the dot with flowers in hand and a whole new batch of compliments rolling off of his tongue. Gods, did Mattheo love to make you blush. Everything from looking you up and down seductively, to telling you that you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, he did it all. 

He kissed you like you were the only woman in the world, like he wanted you to feel his love and devotion as much as he spoke the words, and you melted into him every time. Whether it was a brush of his lips over your own, or his hands grasping at your body, pulling you so close you nearly fused as his mouth claimed yours, he did all of it so passionately. 

Now, he was kissing your knuckles, guiding you toward one of the more expensive restaurants in Hogsmeade, one you’d never been to before, and grinning at your expression. 

“Matty, this place isn’t cheap!”

“Nothing will be good enough for my girl, but certainly nothing cheap. For now, this is the best I can give to you.” Tugging you in close, the two of you stood outside of the beautifully decorated little building, and he nudged his nose against yours. “One day, I’ll take you all around the world, to eat the best food with the best views.”

“Oh…” Your hands settled on his face, thumbs rubbing across his cheeks as he smiled, and you pressed a kiss on his lips in gratitude as words seemed to escape you entirely. “I love you.”

“I love you more, pretty girl.” His arms were tight around your waist, not quite ready to go yet, and his lips parted like there was something more he had to say. “Listen, when we get in there, I just have to speak to one of the workers real quick, okay?”

“Okay.” It didn’t seem all that concerning to you, and with a final kiss to your lips, he was holding open the restaurant door for you. His hand was warm in your own as he led you through the building. But then he was guiding you right past the hostess station, and you glanced back to it, but his feet never stopped moving, and you hurried to keep up with him. 

Past tables and other workers, your jaw dropped with a soft gasp as he let himself into the back of the restaurant.

“Matty, I don’t think we’re allowed back here…”

“Don’t worry about it, baby.” Mattheo smiled, leaving another kiss on your cheek as he let go of your hand. “Wait here for me, ‘kay? I just need to speak to one of the chefs.”

With that, he was disappearing into the kitchens, and you leaned back against the wall, staring at the clock opposite you. Seconds ticked past, turning into minutes, ten of them, to be precise, before the shouting started. Mattheo was yelling, you’d know his voice anywhere, and when you poked your head around the doorframe and into the kitchen, it was to find him holding a vaguely familiar-looking chef by the collar, and slamming him into a wall. 

“Mattheo!”

Your voice fell on deaf ears, as the two began to push. Mattheo’s back hit the counter behind him, a sickening smack and a grunt of pain, before the two were throwing fists. Every crunch of bones on skin and every rattling sound of a body hitting the workstations and countertops made your stomach turn. You covered your ears, turning your back on it all and shaking your head. 

You didn’t need to see that. 

Eventually, the other chefs stepped in, dragging Mattheo out of the backdoor. When it was all over, you apologised profusely as you hurried through the kitchen to follow after him, hopping over the boy he’d beaten half-senseless who was groaning on the floor. 

Stepping out through the backdoor, Mattheo was pacing, spitting a bloody mouthful out onto the floor, and his head snapped up in your direction. Only when he realised who it was did his gaze soften, and he wiped his palm across the back of his mouth. 

A few seconds of silence passed as the shock settled and you checked he was okay, and when he reached for you, you turned from him. Storming away down the alley, you heard his frustrated groan behind you, the sound of him kicking a trash can, before he was hurrying after you. 

“Okay, I know that wasn’t how the evening was supposed to go—”

“Oh, it wasn’t?” Your laugh was so dry it almost made your chest hurt, and you didn't even bother to look back at him as you began to walk back through Hogsmeade.

“I fucked up, I know—”

“Understatement of the century.” You muttered, ignoring his attempts at excuses and explanations as you wove through the streets. People offered you both funny looks, no doubt because of the blood running from his nose as he tried to stop it, the pair of you mid-argument. 

When you reached the edges of the town, Mattheo fell into step beside you, his hand skimming down your back, burning into you through the thin fabric of your dress. A dress that had been a damn waste to put on.

“Don’t touch me.” You hissed, slapping his hand away from your lower back, and he whined.

“Oh, come on, baby. I’m sorry.”

“You’re not sorry! You planned this, and told me we were going on a date!” Your arms crossed over your chest as you stomped back out of the small village, beginning the walk back towards the school. “You lied to me!”

“Woah, now! Hey! I never lied! I fully intended to—” He huffed as you continued to walk ahead of him, all but speeding in your heels until you wobbled, and he cursed under his breath, catching you to steady you. Spinning you around, he tipped your chin up with one finger. “Listen, pretty girl. I never meant for all this to happen, okay? I meant it when I said I’d made us a reservation. I just figured I’d go and get my money from this guy, maybe even let him off a few galleons so he’d give us better service, and then we’d have a nice date. I didn’t expect him to start a fight!”

“He didn’t start the fight, you did!” You poked a finger into his chest, and he winced. Obviously, you’d found a bruise by mistake. Smoothing your palm over it in way of a silent apology, his hand cupped yours, holding it over his heart. “You said ‘Let’s take this outside’.”

“Okay, well, I was calling his bluff. I didn’t expect him to actually take me up on it!”

Your jaw tightened, and your lip wobbled. You felt ridiculous, you’d gotten all dressed up, and you were hungry, and he’d let you down. At your expression, his own face crumpled, and he sighed sadly as he cupped your cheeks. 

“Please, baby, don’t cry because of me. You look so pretty, you did your makeup so nice, I don’t want you to cry because of me. Let’s just go back and find somewhere else to eat, yeah?”

“I don’t want to, and we can’t! You’re dirty and bleeding, and you’ve got a black eye coming on. We can’t go anywhere.” You muttered, crossing your arms. He leaned in, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“I’m sorry. I love you, more than anything. I really didn’t mean for it to go like this. I won’t let it happen again.”

“Promise me.” You huffed, gaze finally returning to his, and he nodded emphatically. “No more acting stupid in front of me.”

“I promise, sweet girl. I’ll never mix business with pleasure again, okay? When I’m with you, it’s all you.”

Just like that, he had your walls crumbling. How could you stay mad at him, when he smiled so sweetly, and made you feel so special? You gave in, one hand lifting to his cheek, touching gently at the swollen skin around the cut on his face. He hissed and pulled back, and your frown only deepened. “C’mon, you can come to my dorm, I’ll clean you up.”

“You’re gonna’ clean me up?” His smile was like that of a puppy, taking your hand happily and guiding you back along the path. “I tell you what, I’ll force Nott to sneak into the kitchens and make us some pasta, in exchange for the room to himself tonight, how’s that?”

“And where will you be sleeping?” You smirked, and he matched it, shrugging. 

“I don’t know. Maybe the cold, stone floor in front of the common room fireplace.” Your eyes rolled, and he dipped his head, leaving a kiss on your neck. “Or maybe, my loving girlfriend will let me stay over, and I’ll make it worth her while…”

“I don’t want to look at your battered face.”

“Put a pillow over my head and get on top, then.” He snickered, and your jaw dropped.

“Matty!”

You brushed your fingers through Mattheo’s curls, and a sleepy rumble emanated from him. He nuzzled in a little closer. The tip of his nose rubbed your sternum and his arms tightened around you. He pressed a lazy kiss to your skin through your tee, melting into you further with the sigh he let go. 

You’d spent all day dozing on and off together, lounging in bed, and watching movies. You’d dragged yourself up at some point to grab a book, an attempt to be productive, but Mattheo had quickly put an end to that as he dragged you back into the sheets. Now, the evening was rolling around, the sun was setting, and the stagnation of the day was beginning to become bothersome. 

With another huffed-out sigh, Mattheo lifted his head, a frown on his lips as your hand slipped down to his cheek. He was sleep rumpled, a crease across his cheek from where he’d been lying on you, and you rubbed it soothingly. 

“I could do with some fresh air,” He eventually mumbled, twisting his head to kiss the palm of your hand. “Let’s go for a walk or something.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest. Lately, he’d been getting into all sorts of arguments and fights. Never with you, no, your little disagreements ended with him conceding and kissing you senseless. But, he’d been drawing a lot of extra attention to himself lately, and it wasn’t all that positive. You weren’t so keen to have another date ruined by his fighting or being dragged off to detention. 

“Maybe the courtyard?”

“We could stay here?” You suggested, and he pursed his lips, shaking his head. 

“No, I want to go out. You don’t have to come, baby. I’ll just go for a smoke break, I’m sure Theo is knocking around here somewhere.” With that, he hauled himself up from the bed, and you watched him go. Stretching out muscles that hadn't been utilised all day, you bit your lip, tangled up in the sheets still as you watched him fetch a fresh t-shirt and tug it on, before searching for a pair of jeans. 

You couldn't very well let him go alone, if he did, he’d smoke, and you hated that. But if you did go with him, you’d spend the whole time trying to stop him from riling up the Gryffindors he seemed to be having so many problems with recently. 

He found a pair, tugging them up his legs and buttoning them at his waist. He was determined to go then, and you rolled over to prop your head up on your arm. 

“I really can’t convince you to stay?” You teased, sneaking a bare leg out from under the covers that led all the way up, and giving him a flash of what else lay underneath. Rolling onto your stomach and letting the sheets fall, his eyes fell straight to the skimpy little bit of lace you’d donned earlier, barely classifying as underwear at all. 

He groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m gonna’ need a few more hours before I can go again, pretty girl. No matter how much you tease me with that little thong of yours.”

It was futile, once his mind was set, it was done. “Alright, fine.” You murmured, lips puckering as he leaned over the bed to give you a quick kiss. “I’ll come with you.”

“You will?” His face lit up, and guilt instantly flooded you. 

It wasn’t necessarily his fault. It was just a part of his culture. He’d been raised on impulsivity and violence and arguments. You knew all about his home life, his childhood and his upbringing. He’d had a rough time of it, the grizzly truth unveiled to you between late-night kisses and midnights at the tower as he smoked. You were surprised he even possessed the limited emotional functions he did, unlike his brother. You were supposed to guide him, to help him see better, to love him right and show him the purity of it. 

He tugged on your hands, an excited smile on his face as he helped you out of the sheets. He found your denim skirt on the floor, holding it out for you and letting you balance on his shoulders as you wobbled into it. 

“How about the forest, instead?”

At least there would be fewer people there. He nodded his head, swiping a kiss to your cheek as he mumbled a spell to set the bed off on making itself. “Whatever you want, baby.”

It would surely end badly, something or someone would send him into a spiral. But, until that happened, you wanted to soak up every second of that smile on his face, that you put there so easily. How anyone could think he was bad, when he smiled so sweetly, was beyond you. 

You brushed your fingers through Mattheo’s curls, and a sleepy rumble emanated from him. He nuzzled in a little closer. The tip of his nose rubbed your sternum and his arms tightened around you. He pressed a lazy kiss to your skin through your tee, melting into you further with the sigh he let go. 

You’d spent all day dozing on and off together, lounging in bed, and watching movies. You’d dragged yourself up at some point to grab a book, an attempt to be productive, but Mattheo had quickly put an end to that as he dragged you back into the sheets. Now, the evening was rolling around, the sun was setting, and the stagnation of the day was beginning to become bothersome. 

With another huffed-out sigh, Mattheo lifted his head, a frown on his lips as your hand slipped down to his cheek. He was sleep rumpled, a crease across his cheek from where he’d been lying on you, and you rubbed it soothingly. 

“I could do with some fresh air,” He eventually mumbled, twisting his head to kiss the palm of your hand. “Let’s go for a walk or something.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest. Lately, he’d been getting into all sorts of arguments and fights. Never with you, no, your little disagreements ended with him conceding and kissing you senseless. But, he’d been drawing a lot of extra attention to himself lately, and it wasn’t all that positive. You weren’t so keen to have another date ruined by his fighting or being dragged off to detention. 

“Maybe the courtyard?”

“We could stay here?” You suggested, and he pursed his lips, shaking his head. 

“No, I want to go out. You don’t have to come, baby. I’ll just go for a smoke break, I’m sure Theo is knocking around here somewhere.” With that, he hauled himself up from the bed, and you watched him go. Stretching out muscles that hadn't been utilised all day, you bit your lip, tangled up in the sheets still as you watched him fetch a fresh t-shirt and tug it on, before searching for a pair of jeans. 

You couldn't very well let him go alone, if he did, he’d smoke, and you hated that. But if you did go with him, you’d spend the whole time trying to stop him from riling up the Gryffindors he seemed to be having so many problems with recently. 

He found a pair, tugging them up his legs and buttoning them at his waist. He was determined to go then, and you rolled over to prop your head up on your arm. 

“I really can’t convince you to stay?” You teased, sneaking a bare leg out from under the covers that led all the way up, and giving him a flash of what else lay underneath. Rolling onto your stomach and letting the sheets fall, his eyes fell straight to the skimpy little bit of lace you’d donned earlier, barely classifying as underwear at all. 

He groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m gonna’ need a few more hours before I can go again, pretty girl. No matter how much you tease me with that little thong of yours.”

It was futile, once his mind was set, it was done. “Alright, fine.” You murmured, lips puckering as he leaned over the bed to give you a quick kiss. “I’ll come with you.”

“You will?” His face lit up, and guilt instantly flooded you. 

It wasn’t necessarily his fault. It was just a part of his culture. He’d been raised on impulsivity and violence and arguments. You knew all about his home life, his childhood and his upbringing. He’d had a rough time of it, the grizzly truth unveiled to you between late-night kisses and midnights at the tower as he smoked. You were surprised he even possessed the limited emotional functions he did, unlike his brother. You were supposed to guide him, to help him see better, to love him right and show him the purity of it. 

He tugged on your hands, an excited smile on his face as he helped you out of the sheets. He found your denim skirt on the floor, holding it out for you and letting you balance on his shoulders as you wobbled into it. 

“How about the Lake, instead?”

At least there would be fewer people there. He nodded his head, swiping a kiss to your cheek as he mumbled a spell to set the bed off on making itself. “Whatever you want, baby.”

It would surely end badly, something or someone would send him into a spiral. But, until that happened, you wanted to soak up every second of that smile on his face, that you put there so easily. How anyone could think he was bad, when he smiled so sweetly, was beyond you.“Baby, wake up.” The words were mumbled tenderly into your ear, and you groaned a little at the hand gently shaking your shoulder. “Come on, pretty girl, open those eyes.”

“What, Matty? It’s the middle of the night.”

“I know, that’s why it’s the perfect time!” Excitement tinged his voice, and as you forced your eyelids open, you found him standing at the edge of your bed, wand lit up dimly, and your coat in his hand. “Get up, baby. We’re going for a walk.”

“Now?”

“Yes. You don’t think the stars and the moon are romantic? Isn’t there just something… better about the night?”

Your smile was against your will, sitting up slowly and swinging your feet out of the bed, suppressing a yawn. “You’re lucky I wore full pyjamas to bed tonight.”

“You mean I could’ve walked in here to find you naked?” He clasped a hand over his heart, letting out a pained groan. He handed you his wand to hold, before dropping to his knees before you. 

“No, you perv! I meant that I’m wearing full-leg pyjamas, not my shorts!”

He only snickered to himself, while navigating your trainers onto your feet and tying the laces up for you. Once they were secure, he took his wand back, sliding it into his back pocket and clasping your hands in his own. With a kiss on your lips, he wrapped the warm coat over your shoulders. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be, Matty.”

He grinned at that, taking your hand, and leading you through the silent halls. Twigs snapped under your feet as you crossed the courtyard together, giggling and shushing each other, and you had to admit that he was right. Both the adrenaline of it all, and the beauty of the scenery, made for the perfect blend of excitement and romance. 

As you cleared the school building and began to make your way out across the fields, Mattheo’s arm looped around your waist, supporting you through every dip and hole in the grass, never letting you so much as stumble. 

“Nearly there.” He whispered into the cold night air as you approached the quidditch grounds, the different house flags blowing gently in the summer breeze. 

“Nearly where? I thought we were just going for a walk.”

He didn’t reply, and only a couple of steps later, the barely concealed voices of several of his friends carried across the pitch towards you both. “Mattheo Riddle, I swear to Merlin, if you’ve brought me along on one of your ridiculous schemes—” You shrieked, cutting yourself off as one of the Weasley’s firecrackers shot past your head, between the two of you, and Theodore’s laughter echoed out, following it. 

“Oi, Nott, watch it. If that’d hit my girl, the next thing to be hit would be your face on the fuckin’ concrete.”

“Relax, she ducked! No harm, no foul. Right, principessa?” Theo smirked, seeming to appear from the shadows as he sparked his lighter, and brought the flame to the end of his cigarette. Lorenzo was there too, a bag over one shoulder that rattled suspiciously as he came towards the three of you, and your arms crossed protectively over your body. 

“Matty, what is this?”

“Don’t flirt with my girl in Italian.” Mattheo glared at his friend, but it soon melted away as he was handed the cigarette, and Theo tucked his hands into his pockets, appraising you. 

“This, bella, is revenge.”

“What did I just say about the Italian—?”

“Why do you need revenge?” Your words crossed Mattheo’s who only huffed, but remained quiet as he passed the cigarette beyond you to Enzo. Nobody answered, and your boyfriend shuffled from one foot to the other as your narrowed gaze turned on him. “Mattheo.”

“The Gryffindors were talking shot about our upcoming game, and McLaggen and his mates thought it’d be funny to charm all our jerseys pink for practice, so we’re just getting even.”

“Why do I get the feeling that whatever you’re about to do is far beyond ‘even’? Pink jerseys don’t seem equal to… whatever you’re doing here. I want no part of it.” You spun on your heel, but didn’t get very far, not even a single step, before Mattheo was wrapping an arm around your waist, and pulling you into himself. You jabbed a finger into his chest, putting the full heat of your wrath into your stare, “You said we were going for a walk!”

“We are! We did. Look, this is gonna’ be fun, you’ll see. I know how much that one Gryffindor chick has been pissing you off lately. I'm getting revenge for you too, here!” He cupped your cheek, running his thumb over your lips, before planting a kiss there. “I’m avenging you, baby.”

He took your hand, pulling you along behind him with the kind of infectious excitement that made you smile, even when you didn’t want to. Sitting down on one of the benches, you watched with an amused smile at the way he and his friends whispered conspiratorially amongst themselves as they thought through just what they might do. 

That innocent adoration you had didn’t last long.

You’d been expecting a few stink bombs in lockers and foul-smelling potions tipped into the shower drains that would stink for weeks. Maybe even a hex or two for inconvenience. A shriek burst past your lips as another of Theodore’s rockets shot past your head, screeching as it went and your hands clasped over your ears. 

He was letting them off, inside. Glitter exploded everywhere, the few flaming pieces of ash sprinkling down eroded holes in the towels and jerseys hanging on hooks around the locker room. Glass shattered somewhere, and Theo all but howled with laughter as the rocket shot off into the night sky to fizzle out with a colourful bang.

Enzo was spray-painting something on the walls in the shower room, following his rude and physically impossible message spray-painted on the inside of the door that he was still snickering to himself about. 

Mattheo was systematically unlocking all of the cupboards, and placing a different bad-luck hex on every single piece of equipment. After leaving a sporadic spiral-dive hex on one of the brooms and putting it back, you’d had enough. 

Sweeping your hair out of your eyes, you stood, making your way over to his side. “Matty…”

“Yeah, baby?” He was distracted as he mumbled his response, careful wand-work as he charmed one of the beater’s bats to flop like wet spaghetti every time they tried to hit something. 

“Mattheo.”

At your tone, and the use of his full name, he looked up. He took in the nervous expression on your face, the sad and pouty frown on your lips, and sighed. “What’s the matter?”

“Don’t you think this is a bit much?”

“They were talking shit about us!”

“You're risking really hurting someone, though!” You gestured around, from his handiwork to the broken window and glass fragments on the floor. “You’re actually damaging school property!”

“A few spells will have it cleaned up in no time. Don’t be dramatic.”

You gaped at him for a second, before walking away, turning your back to him and plopping down back onto the bench with a huff. Behind you, you heard him kick something, swearing under his breath, before he stepped back into your sight. When you didn’t look up at him, he dropped down to his knees, forcing himself into your line of vision. 

He has his puppy dog eyes on, and pressed a kiss to each of your hands as he took them in his own. “I didn’t mean it like that, pretty girl. I just meant… you don’t get it. This is what we do. You’re just too sweet for this, you wouldn't hurt a fly. But this could be so much worse, it’s all a bit of fun, just trust me, yeah? I’m getting them back, for me, and for you.”

“But it’s a lot. And I never asked you to get even for me.” You whispered, and he nodded. 

“You don’t have to ask. I protect you, that’s what I do. It’s you and me, baby. For life.” You softened a little at that, and he noticed, his smile growing again as he knelt up, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. “I won’t do anymore, how’s that? I’ll round up the boys, and we’ll get out of—”

Just then, voices flickered through the room. The angry, panicked shouting of at least six different people, rapidly got louder as they neared the space you occupied. Enzo clambered up onto one of the window ledges, and peered out of the broken glass. “Oh, shit. They know. ‘Least ten Lions, coming this way. And fast. Fucking go!”

The first spell bounced through the open glass, sending shards flying as it caught the last of the jagged spikes still on the frame, just as Enzo ducked out of the way. Theo scrabbled past, and out of the back door, Enzo quickly following, and you jumped to your feet as Mattheo did. 

Another spell burst through, bouncing on the locked door, and the muffled voices of your accomplices felt a million miles away as fear struck through your body. The door rattled again, the lock creaking as the half-arsed spell they’d sealed it with threatened to give way. The pounding of your heart in your chest was deafening, roaring in your ears—

Then, a hand clamped down on yours, pulling you along. “Baby girl, let’s go! Come on, what are you doing?”

Mattheo tugged on your hand, like a splash of cold water the jolt he made snapped you to your senses. You stumbled after him, staring at his bouncing curls and the flush of his cheeks as he looked at you, guiding you out of the backdoor and into the night. Stumbling down the hill, the two of you ran so fast you almost fell several times, angry shouts following you out into the night as flashes and flickers of bright spells whizzed past you constantly. 

You let Mattheo guide you, running until your lungs burned and your chest ached from your pounding heart, but you’d lost them. You’d lost Theo and Enzo, too. Silence shrouded you both as you finally came to a stop, only the lapping water at the shore of the lake and both of your soft pants to break the heavy quiet.

He turned to you, one hand lifting to tuck some hair behind your ear, and you glared at him as he leaned in to kiss one of your no-doubt flushed cheeks. 

“You are so beautiful.” He whispered, knuckles still tracing up and down your jaw as he stared at you under the moonlight. 

“I’m so mad at you for that. I hate running, and panicking, and vandalising. All the things I hate, you just wrapped ‘em up in one.”

He smiled something wicked, and leaned in, to bump his nose with your own. “You love me, though.”

“Debatable, right now.” Your scoff was lost as he pressed soft kisses to your lips, coaxing you into remembering just how much you loved him. You were ashamed to say that it worked, as you parted your mouth a little more to reciprocate. 

You felt his smile pressed to your mouth as he did, that hand on your cheek smoothing out, fingers in your hair as he cupped your head, and angled your face for a deeper kiss. 

You were once again both panting by the time he pulled away, satisfied and smitten. 

“Come on, my angry girl. Let’s go for that walk now, yeah? Just me and you for a stroll around the lake.”

You winced as another cracking sounded out, the echo of Mattheo’s fist against the cocky Ravenclaw’s jaw had your stomach rolling. A boy you’d never much cared about. He was entitled and arrogant, and tended to run his mouth a little too much. He thought he was the best thing to grace the halls of Hogwarts, and a blessing to womankind, and you’d caught his eyes on you a couple of times. 

Of course, you’d never mentioned as much to Mattheo, in hopes of sparing him this exact situation. Mattheo didn’t take kindly to lingering gazes, and he didn’t tolerate leering ones at all. He was protective, overprotective, and he was a little bit crazy. He was also in love, and in his opinion, the cat-call the Ravenclaw had given to you and the choice words he’d accompanied it had crossed a line.

And they said Ravenclaws were the smart ones.

So, Mattheo hadn't hesitated. He’d dropped your hand, curled it into a fist, and swung on the boy before he’d even finished smirking at your shocked look. 

Now, you were sighing, as he took the Ravenclaw down to the ground, uncaring of the blow to his shoulder as the two rolled over the stone floors. Scuffling and throwing blows, a crowd formed around them, jostling you endlessly from side to side. He was winning, as always, beating the poor boy into the same blue as his house banners, and no amount of pleading on your behalf to just drop it was going to stop him now. 

You should’ve been halfway to Hogsmeade by now. You’d never make your reservation, and you’d gotten yourself all dressed up for nothing. Hours wasted on hair and make-up and picking out the perfect outfit for this date, all for Mattheo’s impulsive temper and one gross creep to ruin it.

The two continued to brawl, fists slamming, feet kicking, and blood splattering as the crowd cheered and shouted so loud it was deafening. You’d learnt it the hard way a long time ago that you couldn't do anything to stop him now, not when he got into this state, without risking getting hurt yourself. All you could do was wait, and hope.

Finally, the Gryffindor prefect stepped in. He was a sturdy man, broad-shouldered and thick-muscled, as was his friend, as the two grabbed for one of Mattheo’s arms each, pulling him off and to his feet. Blood streamed from his nose, and he grinned, pink tainting his teeth before he spat at the boy curling up on the floor. 

“You be fucking glad they stopped me, because I wouldn't have!” 

“For fuck’s sake…” You muttered, the heat of embarrassment crawling up your cheeks as several gazes fell on you. Elbowing his way through the crowd was an equally red Professor Slughorn, but his flush was from anger. 

“Riddle! Of course, it’s a Riddle. You can take yourself to detention.”

A whine slipped free from your throat as you crossed your arms over your chest. Mattheo attempted to shake off the two prefects, wiping his nose with his sleeve and wincing at the feeling. He shrugged, “I can’t tonight, professor. I have plans.”

“I don’t care! Detention, now!” 

Stepping over the Ravenclaw still whimpering at your feet, Mattheo smiled what you assumed was supposed to be a seductive grin at you as you neared him. With the split of his lip, the stain of dried blood on his face, and the splotchy swelling along his nose and jaw, it didn’t quite hit the mark anymore. You were too angry to fall for it. 

“So you’re bailing on our date, again?” Your lip wobbled, arms crossed your chest as you tried to glare at him, but the stinging in your throat betrayed you as your voice cracked. 

“Don’t cry, baby, you did your make-up so nice. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” He leaned in, lowering his voice in an attempt for intimacy, despite the Gryffindors tugging on his arms. “I love you.”

You sighed, but released your anger, cupping his face softly so as not to aggravate the painful patches further. “I love you too.”

His lips barely brushed your own before Slughorn was grabbing him by his collar, and yanking him away through the crowds towards detention. Once he was gone, the cowering boy on the floor dragged himself to his feet, his friends hauling him away, and he made the wise decision not to even glance in your direction. 

Even as the crowd parted and you made your way back to your dorm, the lingering feeling of anger petered out to immense disappointment. 

Your reflection was frowning as you stared at yourself in the mirror, pretty outfit and stunning makeup, all going to waste while your boyfriend rotted the night away in detention. 

Detention. 

The same place where your relationship had started, and a ridiculous idea began to root itself in your mind. Tipping out the contents of your school bag, your books and quills scattered across the bedding, and you repacked it with what you’d need instead. 

With a fresh spritz of perfume and a new swipe of lipgloss, you left your dorm, heels clicking against the stone as you hurried yourself along on your mission. The doors were spelled against sneaking out of detention, but sneaking in was surely a different case. 

Your suspicions were confirmed as you pushed the door open, the loud creak echoing through the room, but you were granted entry as you stepped inside. The door slammed shut behind you, and yet, Flitwick didn’t so much as flinch from where he was snoozing atop the desk at the front of the classroom. Mattheo watched with widening eyes and tissues pressed to his nose as you walked through the aisles and took a seat beside him at the desk he’d claimed as his own. 

“What’re you doin’ here, baby?”

You scoffed at his muffled voice, swinging your bag off your shoulder and onto the desk, before sitting down. Taking his hands in your own, you pulled them back, inspecting the damage he’d made to his pretty face. “It’s date night. I wasn’t going to let you sit in here all alone, when I put effort into looking this good.”

Your whispered words made him grin, and you took the tissues from his hands, dabbling softly at the last of the blood. When it was gone, you rifled through your bag instead, producing a small vial of swirling purple liquid. Upon seeing it, he groaned. “Oh, no, I hate those. They taste gross and musty.”

“Maybe if you hadn't done this to yourself, you wouldn't have to take it.” You uncapped the vial, and as the smell drifted to him, he gagged. You raised it to his lips, and he offered a sullen look but parted them for you to tip it into his mouth. Swallowing it came with a grimace, and you wiped your thumb over his lips to get rid of the sticky residue it left. Within seconds, the swelling on his jaw was going down, the cut on his nose was healing over, and the nasty bruising under his eyes was fading away. “That’s better. My pretty boy is back.”

He blushed at that but offered a cheeky grin, and leaned in to kiss you sweetly. Before his lips could meet yours, you swerved, and he grunted unhappily as his mouth landed on your cheek instead. 

“You’re not kissing me while you still taste like that gross potion.”

“Typical.” He mumbled, but left a few more peppered kisses along your jaw. You worked as he did, laying out the various snacks you’d brought with you along the table, and as he caught sight of the chocolate frog, an excited gasp slipped free. He snatched the frog up quickly, tearing off the foil wrapper and snapping off a leg. 

He lifted it to your lips, always offering you the first bite, and you let him feed it to you while he watched on. Happy you’d taken it, he snapped off another, dropping the chunk into his mouth and chewing happily. 

“God, I love you so fucking much,” He sighed as he finished eating, finally leaning in to claim this kiss he had been denied earlier. “I’m gonna’ marry you someday.”

“Yeah, and you’ll probably get yourself arrested on the big day.” Your voice was bitter but your smile was the same as whenever he talked of his plans or your joint future. He knew you were bluffing too, closing the gap between you both once again, and nipping gently on your bottom lip. 

“I always come back to you though, baby.”

That made you kiss him properly because you had no retort to offer. It was true, he always found his way back to you. He was crazy, reckless, and impulsive, but he was in love with you, and he didn’t care to hide it. 

Not from the others in the detention room, not from the people in the halls, not from anyone on this earth. It was the two of you together, he’d never leave you behind or let you down, and you could trust him in that. 

So, maybe he did prove ‘em right. But he also proved you right. Mattheo Riddle was so much more than they all said he was. He was loyal and loving, and he was yours.

[thankskenpenders]

Thoughts on two specific areas of the writing in Sonic X Shadow Generations

The best new 3D Sonic game in over a decade (or even two, depending on who you ask) dropped late last year. And I didn't write anything about it! Sometimes life happens. Well, I've finally sat down to finish Shadow Generations, and by now everyone has already been singing its praises for three months. This is the rare instance where the entire Sonic fandom, and even mainstream reviewers, are in agreement on something. The level design is the best it's been in a long, long time and the cool factor is off the charts, embracing Sonic's peak cringe era in an incredibly confident way. It's great. If you're even reading this post, you probably don't need me to tell you that. So I won't!

No, what I'm really interested in here is the writing. Because this is me we're talking about. But I actually don't want to talk about the main narrative of Shadow Generations, which is really solid little story about Black Doom trying to mold Shadow into his perfect soldier. No, I'd like to zero in on two other aspects of the writing here: the revisions made to Sonic Generations, and Gerald Robotnik's unlockable journal.

The updated Sonic Generations script

The new package mostly presents Sonic Generations how you remember it. There are some tweaks, but it's not a major overhaul. Graphically, I don't think the game has been touched much, if at all. I certainly can't notice any difference without a side-by-side comparison, despite playing it on a PS5. The most notable update is that the game's script has been rewritten by Ian Flynn.

Naturally, this caught my attention. Generations always had a nothingburger story, so with Ian rewriting Pontac and Graff's lame dialogue there was nowhere to go but up. (I don't like to pin the blame for those games' stories entirely on them, as a ton of it was dictated to them by Sonic Team, but, well, I don't think they're very good dialogue writers.) But it's less a complete rewrite and more like Ian was brought on as a script doctor for some minor touch ups here and there. Many lines of dialogue are completely identical to how they were originally written in 2011, and many others only have slight wording changes. Ian was clearly not allowed to request additional scenes or extend the ones that already existed. He has to match the original beat for beat so that they can reuse 99% of the cutscene animations. Don't expect it to be a whole new experience compared to the original.

Still, I think the new script is an improvement, albeit a minor one. Various things have been tweaked to maintain characterization consistency. Cream calls Sonic "Mr. Sonic" instead of just "Sonic." Instead of calling Sonic "buddy," Rouge uses the pet name "Blue," like she tends to do in things like the IDW comics. Espio doesn't have to remind you in the dialogue that he's a ninja, and he no longer has a line making it sound like he has some kind of soul reading power. I also like that Modern Sonic now actually has responses to what his friends say when he rescues them, rather than being silent like Classic Sonic. They won't blow you away, but they make Sonic feel a little more engaged with everything.

In general, the altered dialogue just seems tighter to me, and some of the more childish or trite wording of Pontac and Graff's script has been altered. Here, let's actually make a direct comparison, just because this stuff is interesting to me as a writer. Here's a couple lines from after the Egg Dragoon fight late in the game, in the original script:

Modern Eggman: Ooooh... I can't believe this! I was supposed to beat you this time. Modern Sonic: Aw, I'm sorry! I didn't get that memo. I beat you every time! [Turns to Classic Sonic] No, seriously, we beat this guy every time. It's like it's our job or something!

This is a simple exchange. Eggman is mad that he lost. Sonic is unflappably confident because he always beats Eggman, and he explains this to his younger self. But the wording here isn't particularly good. Eggman's simple and direct wording makes him come off like a little kid who's mad because his older brother beat him at Mario Kart, rather than a mad scientist who just had his plans foiled. It's making light of the situation.

And I've never liked Sonic saying "It's like it's our job or something!" That doesn't feel like a thing Sonic would say, it feels like a thing an outside observer would say about Sonic. This is a frequent problem with so-called "MCU dialogue," where quips meant to echo the commentary of a casual, somewhat disinterested audience are inserted into the story itself so that the writers can be like "See? We get it. We're genre-savvy, too!" It also just reminds me of bad Sonic Boom: Rise of Lyric lines like "Rings! It's like they're made for me!"

And then here's Ian's rewrite:

Modern Eggman: I recalibrated everything! This was supposed to be my time! Modern Sonic: Oh, please, keep dreamin', Egg-head. I beat you every time. [Turns to Classic Sonic] No, seriously, we beat him every time. Our score card's flawless.

Eggman's still mad about his defeat, but the line "I recalibrated everything!" makes it more specific. He put all this work into the engineering side of his latest scheme and got tunnel vision, thinking if he got his creations just right there'd be no way he could lose. "This was supposed to be my time!" also turns it into a time travel pun, which is a bonus. He's still pitching a fit over losing, but it feels more like Eggman pitching a fit, rather than sounding childish.

And then instead of saying that beating Eggman is "like his job or something," Sonic says he's got a flawless score card against Eggman. He doesn't take Eggman seriously as a threat—at least, not to his face. He acts like it's all a game. But he conveys this in a way that feels truer to the character, rather than feeling like the words of a real world observer poking fun at the tropes of the Sonic series.

Is this amazing, A+ dialogue that blows me away? No. Again, it's not a completely different scene from the one we already had. Ian had to fit the beats of what was already there. He couldn't go all out and write an all new story confirming his longstanding headcanon that the Time Eater is a remnant of Solaris or whatever. But the wording here makes the existing story land a little better and feel truer to the characters in subtle ways.

But to me, the main change is that the Sonics and Tailses seem to have a more solid understanding of what's going on with the timeline and the Time Eater, compared to how idiotic they sometimes seemed in the original game. Which is good! No more standing outside Green Hill and wondering why it seems so familiar. Thank god. As part of this, yes, there are a few more references to past games in the dialogue, like Sonic briefly being confused about the fact that they're time traveling without the Time Stones, or South Island and Westside Island being acknowledged as the normal locations of Green Hill and Chemical Plant. Yes, ha ha, insert joke about how Ian loves references here. Look, it's Sonic fucking Generations. It's a game built entirely out of nostalgic references. Just own it! And, again, in this instance Sonic and Tails come off as less stupid when they make it clear that they do, in fact, remember their adventures from presumably less than a year ago in-universe.

Eggman, too, seems to have a better understanding of the powers he's toying with. Where in the original vesion his focus was simply on going back in time to undo his previous defeats and he seemed kind of oblivious to how much the Time Eater was actually fucking up the universe, here Eggman says he wants to use the Time Eater to give himself complete control over the entire timeline. Eggman also makes way fewer references to his own failures and shortcomings. Of course he won't admit that Sonic has defeated him time and time again. To him, he's never truly lost—Sonic just keeps delaying the inevitable total victory for the Eggman Empire.

So, yes. The new Sonic Generations script is better. It won't blow anyone away, but it's better than it was. It's been elevated from "kinda lame" to "fine." No, if you really wanna see Ian flex his ability to breathe new life into old Sonic stories, look no further than...

Gerald Robotnik's Journal

Hoo boy.

The story of what happened aboard the ARK has always been... a bit confusing, to say the least. Fans with encyclopedic knowledge of the script for every route of Shadow '05 may disagree, but it's the truth. We've had all the pieces to understand the story for a long time now, but that info was given to us out of order by a pair of unreliable narrators—Gerald, who became a vengeful lunatic shortly before his death, and Shadow, who was subjected to multiple rounds of amnesia and altered memories. Some of the ambiguity left by Sonic Adventure 2 was cleared up in Shadow '05, but that game also retconned in a bunch of new elements to Shadow's backstory (aliens!) that lead to further confusion. Not to mention the fact that that game had multiple routes and only revealed the truth about Shadow if you sat on the ultimate final boss battle for WAY longer than the fight would normally last. Or the fact that Sonic X made its own tweaks in its telling of the story. Or the fact that none of these things ever had the best English translations. I can't blame anyone who hasn't played those games in two decades for not remembering the truth about these characters and getting some details mixed up.

What we needed was something to piece together all of the info we have into one coherent backstory, told in chronological order. And thanks to Shadow Generations, we have that, in the form of an official journal tying together what we knew from Sonic Adventure 2, Shadow '05, and Sonic Battle into the tragic tale of Gerald's rise and fall.

Ian Flynn was the perfect man for the job here as the guy who started his career by tidying up the mess that was the first 159 issues if Archie Sonic. This is what he excels at: taking disparate bits of weird Sonic lore from multiple different sources, boiling them down to their most interesting elements, and connecting it together in a way that will make the audience see the dramatic potential he's always known was there. Rather than feeling like a cynical exercise in franchise building, going back and explaining things that never needed explaining so that people can add more bullet points to the wiki, he puts a new spin on things that retroactively enriches those past stories. The story here means something to the characters involved and gives us a better understanding of them as people, rather than as plot devices to motivate Shadow.

(And, of course, Ian didn't do this journal alone. He wrote the story, but I also have to give a huge shout out to Evan Stanley, who made the final product. All of her handwritten journal entries, sketches, and "photos" included throughout. The physical damage done to the journal over the course of 50 tumultuous years, passing from Gerald to Eggman to a certain special someone at GUN. The way Gerald's handwriting gets less and less legible as his mental state declines. So much love was put into what could have been a mere text dump in a menu, and it really elevates it to the next level. Congrats on officially getting hired by Sega, Evan, you've sure as hell earned it!)

The main idea the journal conveys is that Gerald was under a lot of pressure from a lot of different parties—GUN, the President, his colleagues aboard the ARK, Black Doom, even his own family—and boy did it get to him. The known incidents aboard the ARK mentioned in previous games are put together here to form a story where everything slowly spirals out of control as Gerald keeps compromising his morals to further his research, thinking he'll eventually find some way out of all this because he's a genius. I won't recap that whole story here (if you haven't already played the game and read the journal entries, I would highly recommend at least reading it on the Sonic wiki), but I'd like to highlight my favorite elements of the story, as Ian tells it here.

1) The Eclipse Cannon

Here's something that never quite made sense in Sonic Adventure 2: why does the ARK have a laser that can blow up the Earth built into it? It was supposed to be a peaceful research colony. Sure, Gerald went crazy and swore revenge on the Earth, but, like... when did he have an opportunity to go back up to the ARK and modify it? Did he have someone else do it? How? The ARK was raided by GUN and shut down! And then they arrested him, held him in prison for an unclear period of time, and executed him by firing squad when he was no longer useful! It doesn't add up. Shadow 'the Hedgehog '05 would give its own answer by introducing the Black Arms and saying that the Eclipse Cannon was always supposed to be a secret trump card against the Black Comet. But, like... we know that's kind of a bullshit answer, right? You don't need enough power to blow up a whole planet just to destroy a comet.

Well, the new journal retains what we already knew, but it paints a much more complete picture.

See, long before Gerald ever made a Faustian bargain with Black Doom, he had already made one with an even greater evil: the military. GUN gave Gerald much of the funding for the ARK, Gerald's personal utopian research station in space, but it didn't take long for GUN to start pressuring him to design them weapons. Gerald tried to get GUN off his back by personally contacting the President of the United Federation, and the President gave him an alternative: how about, instead, you just use your genius brain to figure out the secret to immortality for us, so our soldiers can be immortal? Gerald was initially sickened by the notion and found it completely absurd, like chasing a shadow... but given no other option, the sarcastically named Project Shadow soon began in earnest. (Maria would later put a more positive spin on the name after Shadow's awakening, pointing out that a Shadow can show us the direction of the light, like she says in the game itself.)

Of course, this search for the ultimate life form didn't go very well, and without any results on that front GUN kept hounding him for weapons. Gerald would throw them a bone here and there to get them off his back. His research on Chaos resulted in the Artifical Chaos prototypes, which he worried would be used for warfare but could at least theoretically be used for search and rescue missions in floods, in his mind. But that wasn't enough. So he gave them Chaos Drives to power their mechs. And that still wasn't enough. He's got Emerl. He'll give them Emerl. They're not impressed by Emerl. They'll shut the whole ARK down if Gerald doesn't give them something big.

Fine! GUN wants something big? Gerald builds a huge fucking laser cannon into the ARK. However, as a middle finger to GUN, Gerald makes it so powerful that it would destroy the Earth if it was ever fired at any target on its surface. In other words, GUN now has their ultimate weapon of mass destruction, fulfilling his contract, but they can never actually use it. Oh, the delicious irony. (And also Shadow will blow up the Black Comet with it in 50 years yada yada yada.) Is this perhaps extremely shortsighted and naive of Gerald, to believe that such a weapon would never actually be used just because of the risk? Of course. But hey, that's Gerald for you. And I love this as an answer.

(Also, this, uh, kinda echoes something from real life! Remember the bit in Oppenheimer where he says all nuclear war will become unthinkable, and Edward Teller responds "until somebody builds a bigger bomb"? Yeah, Teller went on to conceptualize a superweapon codenamed Project Sundial that would have been able to kill all life on the planet, as the ultimate deterrent for war. This was never made for obvious reasons, but hey, there's a basis for this sort of thinking outside of heightened sci-fi! There's a whole Kurzgesagt video about this if you're interested.)

2) The Biolizard

The Biolizard is, of course, brought up as the initial failed prototype of the ultimate life form, from before Gerald met Black Doom. We don't really learn all that much about it that we didn't already know, but I just love the way it's framed in the story.

As you can see above, we actually get to see a picture of Maria holding up the cute little salamander that would end up mutating into the Biolizard through Gerald's experiments. (Researchers want to figure out how to replicate salamanders' regenerative abilities for humans in real life, too, so this was a natural starting point for the project.) And then, after it grows to a monstrous size and goes out of control, Gerald has to lock it away in an unused sector of the ARK. He needs to keep the poor thing alive for his research into harnessing Chaos Energy, building life support systems directly into it, but he doesn't have the heart to tell Maria what happened. So it just becomes this first dark secret weighing on his conscience. The Biolizard becomes Gerald's Tell-Tale Heart beating beneath the floorboards of the ARK. I love that.

3) Lost Impact was the breaking point for the ARK

Remember the level Lost Impact in Shadow '05? The flashback level on the hero path where Shadow is running around fighting Artificial Chaos enemies on the ARK 50 years ago? Yeah, that wasn't just a random incident. That was important, as we now know due to its placement on the timeline.

See, Emerl's rampage aboard the ARK that was chronicled in Sonic Battle and Dark Beginnings set off a domino effect. Emerl riled up the Artificial Chaos, causing Gerald to lose control of them. They became violent, and so Shadow had to stop them, as depicted in Lost Impact. The thing is, that incident sent an SOS signal to GUN telling them that shit was going down on the ARK. Gerald didsn't fully understand the trouble he was in and assumed that he'd simply be reprimanded by the higher ups, or maybe face legal action. But, well... the next time he heard from GUN, armed troopers were raiding the ARK.

So Lost Impact was the straw that broke the camel's back. I just really like that detail.

4) Maria

And, of course, there's Maria herself. Maria has often been more of a symbol than a character, this perfect embodiment of everything that's good and pure in this world who gets killed to motivate Shadow and Gerald's revenge plots. But I really like the wrinkles this journal adds to her and Gerald's story, and their relationship. This is the most fleshed out they've ever felt.

For one, the journal leans into the idea of Maria's intellectual potential. The rest of the Robotnik family is all geniuses, after all, and she was proving to be a really bright kid. She excelled in her studies on the ARK, and she even helped design Shadow's jet skates and inhibitor rings. When Maria died, the world didn't just lose a symbolic personification of purity. She genuinely could have been a hugely influential scientist who did so much good for the world. That's what Gerald wanted for her. But we'll never know, because GUN killed her.

Speaking of her family, their presence isn't just mentioned for the sake of fleshing out the Robotnik family tree. It's mentioned that as Gerald struggled to find a cure for Maria's illness through his genetic research, he faced mounting pressure from his family. They didn't want Maria to be up on the ARK forever. They wanted Gerald to hurry up and find a damn cure, or otherwise just send her back home to Earth so she could be with her family again. She'd been up on the ARK for so long that Gerald's coworkers started thinking that she had been born up there. Eventually she gains a baby sister on Earth who she's never met. A rift forms between Gerald's two sons, and he's unable to really deal with it because he's so consumed by his work. There's this sense that the family is falling apart, and that everyone is dreading the possibility that Gerald will never find a cure and that Maria will just spend her final years up in space and die far away from her family, because Gerald just couldn't let go. If that happens, it'll break the whole family. But he can't stop now. So he just keeps working. Curing Maria is the only way to win his family back, in his eyes. It can't all be for nothing.

But my favorite detail regarding Maria is this one paragraph:

Maria is growing into a lovely young woman. It breaks my heart that someone as bright and energetic as her is diminished by disease. There are no visible effects, and I've caught my fellow researchers muttering to each other, doubting her illness. It is infuriating. I find all my reason and restraint vanishes when she's slighted.

This is SUCH a great addition to the story! It's always been true that Maria doesn't really seem all that ill, just looking at her in cutscenes. With this one little comment, Ian flips that issue on its head and turns it into a story about invisible disability. She doesn't act like she's in chronic pain, so she must not be, everyone thinks. And this really, really gets to Gerald, as does the pressure from his family. He's dedicating his whole LIFE to saving her, and they think she's faking it?! It's such a small addition, never referenced elsewhere in the journal, but it adds so much flavor to the story, as does the implied family drama. It grounds Gerald and Maria and makes them feel more like real human beings, rather than being pure archetypes. It's just enough info to let my imagination run wild filling in the blanks.

You also get the feeling that Maria being such a walking ray of sunshine was the only real source of joy Gerald had left in his life before Shadow was awakened, and the only thing keeping him from snapping under pressure sooner. All this stuff just keeps piling on, everything's spiraling out of control, but at least Maria is keeping her chin up, right? It makes so much sense that losing her would make him go off the deep end when it's framed like this.

It's just... man, I never thought I'd care so much about Gerald and Maria. But that's the Ian Flynn touch. After years of less than stellar Sonic writing that seemed to be embarrassed of itself, I'm so happy to have new games coming out that fully embrace the history of the series like this, making its world feel so rich and real instead of just serving as an excuse for a string of platforming levels. I don't even like Shadow '05, but I'll be damned if Ian and the rest of Sonic Team didn't make something amazing by "yes, and"-ing Shadow's cringe past here. Sonic has truly reached levels of "we're so back" never thought possible.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Merry Christmas, Baby

Summary: You're not sure what to get Javi for Christmas, until he gives you an idea for a gift you can't put under the tree

Word Count: 3.3K (I wrote this in two hours, the thots do be thotin)

Paring: Husband!Javi x Wife!reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex (whoops), breeding kink (I'll say it once and I'll say it again, you KNOW this man deserves 17 kids) vaginal fingering, creampie (big time), family planning, Javi gets so excited about the idea of another baby he literally can't control himself, terrible, sexual Christmas puns, cute and sweet Christmas fluff bc I love this family more than life and you know they give their kids the most magical Christmases 🥺

A/N: I'll take Javier Peña with a big fat breeding kink for a thousand, please!!! I was feeling in a writing rut, until I read @notjustjavierpena Husband Javi Christmas fic last night, and lord have MERCY, consider me inspired 🫡 I'll never shut up about the fact that this man wants a football team, and every Christmas will ask to put another baby in you as his only Christmas gift BYEEEEEEE I need to be institutionalized at this point sorry this is poorly beta'd, it's me, I'm allergic to editing!!!

Forever and Always Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

“Javier Peña, there has to be something you want for Christmas.” 

“As long as all my girls are happy, that’s all I want.” 

“Unfortunately, I can’t wrap your sappy sentiment, Javi.” 

There was nothing more that you enjoyed than showering Javi with gifts for the holidays. There were few people on earth you could imagine being more deserving than your husband- you’d find a way to wrap the moon and top it with a bow, if that’s what he wanted. Unfortunately for you, Javi was so sweet, it made buying gifts for him nearly impossible, considering there was rarely ever a tangible item on his wishlist. 

“I don’t need anything, baby.” Javi smiled, reaching for the roll of bright pink and sparkly wrapping paper in front of him to start covering the new Barbie Dream House Lucy had been begging for all year long. “Toss me the tape.” 

“Well obviously I have things for you, but I always wanna make sure I’m getting you things that you want.” You sighed, gently throwing the roll of Scotch tape you had been using over the pile of gifts between you and Javi you were working on wrapping while your daughters were asleep. 

After six Christmases under your belts, you and Javi had learned from the one grave mistake of waiting until Christmas Eve to wrap all your daughter’s presents, now taking a few nights before the big day to wrap and assemble any gifts being left under the tree for your own sanity. 

Now that your girls, Lucy, Elliot and Harper, were six, four and two, it made Christmas even more magical, knowing that they were beginning to understand the concept of what the holiday meant, and all the joyous anticipation that led up to the 25th of December. 

It also meant that there were a lot more presents to wrap- 1, because Lucy and Elliot knew that they could ask for gifts they wanted, and 2, because Javi would say he’d be done buying presents and then show up the next day after work with another toy for his girls. 

“Honey, you get great gifts, for me, but especially for the girls, too. Fuck, I forgot this needs batteries…” Javi mumbled to himself, carefully undoing the wrapping paper he had started working on, “You make a very good Santa.” 

“I think the girls like your version of Santa better, since that’s how they end up with double the gifts under the tree.” You giggled, playfully rolling your eyes at Javi before reaching for the next toy in the pile, “I’m being serious, Javi. I love spoiling those girls just as much as you, but you also deserve to be spoiled too, ya know.” 

“You’re my wife, gave me three beautiful daughters, and tolerate me on a daily basis. Baby, that’s plenty fucking spoiled, if you ask me.” Javi grinned, giving you a reassuring nod and little shrug of his shoulders. 

“You’re much more than tolerable, you goof.” You laughed, cheeks pink at the warmth of your husband’s words, never failing to make you melt a little more each day. “Will you please just tell me one thing you want? Then I’ll let it go, I promise.” 

Javi sat quietly for a moment, fiddling with the edges of the wrapping paper he was working on before a boyish smile began to creep into the corners of his cheeks. 

“Uh oh.” You laughed to yourself, immediately recognizing the goofy grin Javi was trying to contain, “What is it, Peña?” 

“You’re not gonna like it.” Javi snickered to himself, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“Jav, if it’s another dog, I told you, when the girls are older and-” 

“No, it’s not another dog.” He smirked, still softly laughing to himself as you tilted your head at him in confusion, trying to piece together what kind of gift Javi would want that would take any convincing from you, crossing your arms over your chest as you attempted to decipher the devious splayed across his face. 

It only took about two seconds and that look to figure out what Javi was in the market for.  

“Javi…” You sighed, your tone jokingly stern. 

“Osita?” He responded back, trying to downplay his giddiness now that you had figured out his gift suggestion. 

“Javi, four kids is a lot of kids. One more, and they’re doubling us in ranks.” 

You had always been on the fence about having a fourth baby. Not because you didn’t love having kids, or that you didn’t think you couldn’t handle it, mentally or financially, but because your brain worked in logistics- adding one more member to your family was getting you to the point where you’d have so many kids, you wouldn’t even all fit in Javi’s truck anymore, unless someone got demoted to the trunk, which, in all honesty, you were sure Elliot wouldn’t mind. 

For Javi, on the other hand, there was no need to worry about logistics- the two of you would figure it out sooner or later. The only logistics he was worried about was instigating the baby making process.  

“You asked what I wanted!” Javi replied, chuckling as he held his hands up in defense, “I think I’ve been a very good boy all year, if you ask me.” 

“What you’re asking for is definitely putting you on the naughty list.” You huffed, trying to distract yourself with finishing wrapping the present you were working on to hide the fact you were genuinely considering Javi’s present suggestion. “You really think we can handle four kids, Jav?” 

It took everything in you not to laugh at the way Javi instantly perked up when your first response to his gift idea wasn’t rejection, eyeing you up and down and gently biting down on his lower lip. 

“Mhmmm.” He nodded, slowly making his way around the pile of presents to scooch closer to you, “I’ll take care of everything, mi amor. You, the girls, the baby, I can ask for less hours at work so I can help around here, whatever you want, you know I’ll give it to you.” 

“You really want this baby, huh?” You giggled, smirking at Javi as he crawled next to you, hungry look in his eyes while he began to cage his body over yours, carefully laying you down on the floor beneath him. 

“Fuck, I wanna knock you up again so bad. You’re so fucking sexy when you’re pregnant.” Javi groaned, planking overtop you, his hot breath dancing across your skin in between his soft nips at your pulse point. “Let me fuck another baby into you, Osita. Please.” 

Any inhibitions you would have had in protest had completely flown out the window, arousal soaking the fabric of your underwear as Javi kissed up your neck and across your collarbone, softly palming at your breasts under one of his old sweatshirts you had thrown on. 

Truth be told, you and Javi had talked about baby number four enough that you were already leaning towards saying 'yes' anyways, but that wouldn’t stop you from having a little fun in seeing how badly Javi really wanted the Christmas gift he was asking you for. 

“Tell me how badly you want it, Javi. Tell me how much you wanna fuck another baby into me.” You devilishly whispered into his ear, smiling to yourself at the pathetic groan that rumbled from his chest in response. 

“Fuck me-” Javi moaned, hands feverishly groping your body, “Fuck, I want it so bad, quierda. Wanna fill you up ‘till it has no choice but to fucking take, fuck this pussy so full of me, let everyone know who it belongs to, watching you carry our baby. Please, Osita.” 

It was a good thing you were already prepared to be easily swayed, because even if you weren’t, listening to the way Javi was begging to put another baby in you would have easily been enough. 

“Okay. Merry Christmas, Papí.” 

Your green light was all Javi needed to spark something completely feral in him, practically ripping your clothes off you in the middle of the living room, sprawled out on the carpet. 

“Javi, we can go upstairs and-” 

“No. Fuck, I need to fuck you right now, just like this.” He grunted, shedding his clothes before his hand was cupping over your underwear, jaw going slack at how absolutely soaked the fabric was under the pads of his fingers. “Apparently you do too, huh, Momma? She’s so wet for me, isn’t she? Pretty pussy wants me to fill her up so bad.” 

Your stomach churned in arousal as Javi ripped your panties down your legs, revealing the puffy, glistening mess beneath. Javi had barely touched you, and you could already feel the way you’re dripping, admittedly just as turned on as him at the idea of letting him add another addition to your family. 

“Christ, baby.” Javi muttered, settling between your legs. Letting his hands run up the insides of your thighs, he took his thumbs and slid them between your folds, spreading you open to get a full view of the way your slick was coating your cunt. “Making a fucking mess for me already.” 

“I think I’m ovulating soon.” You sigh, doing some quick math in your head, trying to account for just how worked up you were, Javi’s eyes so going wide at the realization, you were worried they may just pop out of his skull. 

“Oh, fuck me.” Javi groaned, shaking his head in disbelief at his luck, “You’re right, Merry fuckin’ Christmas to me then.” 

Swirling the pads of his fingers against your clit, your back arched against the floor at the shockwaves the pleasure sent through your body, making you gasp so loud, you were worried you risked a real possibility of waking up your daughters. 

“F-Fuck, Javi-” You whimpered, already bucking your bottom half towards him as he sunk his two fingers into your cunt while the heel of his palm rubbed deliciously against your clit. Reaching up, your grasp wrapped around Javi’s bicep, muscles flexing with each pulse of his fingers as you left half-crescent moons in his skin. 

It took everything in you not to scream as a third finger joined the first two, stretching you out as he bumped against your g-spot, tension already beginning to build in your core. A sudden gasp escaped your chest, surprised by the newfound emptiness that had you clenching around nothing, looking up to see Javi reaching down to wrap his hand around his cock, stroking it a few times before lining it up with your entrance. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I need to fucking feel you, baby. Swear you’ve got me feeling like I’m about to bust like a fucking teenager.” Javi grunted, running his tip against your clit and down your cunt, collecting your arousal before thrusting himself inside you, filling you to the brim with every inch of him. 

Unless you were desperately pressed for time, Javi normally had a bare bones minimum of pulling at least one orgasm out of you before he fucked you, but seeing how worked up and needy he was to feel you wrapped around him, it was about as close to an orgasm you could get withtout actually having one. 

“Oh fuck, Javi!” you whined, feeling the tip of his head kiss your cervix as he began to thrust in and out of you, feeling dizzy from his fullness. You could tell he was trying to hold himself together, his hips slamming into you in deep, slow thrusts, breath hitching in the back of your throat every time he buries himself deeper inside you. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking tight. Fuck, I can’t wait to fill her up, give you every last fucking drop. Taking me so fucking well.” Javi moaned through gritted teeth, already scrunching his face in concentration through his pussy drunk babbling.  

Running his hands up the back of your thighs, Javi pushed your knees to your chest, pinning your legs in place against your stomach to stretch you out even further, letting him sink himself even deeper to hit the spot he knew drove you just as crazy as it drove him. 

Despite how lost in pleasure the two of you were, Javi was at least conscious enough to realize how loud you had gotten, quickly reaching up cup your mouth, catching your muffled moans in the palm of his hand. 

“I know, hermosa. Fuck, I love hearing you, but we gotta keep quiet enough, baby.” Javi huffed, snaking the hand covering your mouth between your bodies, circling at your clit, almost as if he was putting you through some sort of cruel test to see how far he could push you before he had you screaming at the top of your lungs. 

“Fuck- fuck, I know. You feel so good, Javi.” You whined, hand pressed against his bare chest, his warmth and weight pinning your body below him. 

You feel the way Javi’s thrusts become quicker and harsher, filling himself as deep as he could as your cunt began to clench around his length, sucking him in with your warmth and wetness. Your eyes had been scrunched, so lost in your own pleasure that you hadn’t even noticed the nearly pained look on Javi’s face, furrowing his brow in deep concentration with each slap of his hips against yours. 

“You okay, Javi?” You asked, panting out each word as he pounded into you, circling your clit faster and faster as his grip tightened around your thighs, trying to keep himself grounded. 

“Yeah, I- Fuck- fuck me, I’m trying so hard not to finish before you do. Pussy feels so fucking good. Wanna cum so fucking deep inside you.” Javi moaned, the rhythm of his hips already starting to falter thinking about his endgame. 

If you weren’t so lost in your own ecstasy, you probably would have giggled at Javi’s admission, giving him shit about how he couldn’t hold it together for even just a few minutes, knowing he could finally try to get you pregnant again. But right now, you’re just shocked you can even get any words to form coherent thoughts to string together, let alone tease him. 

“Put a baby in me, Javi. Fuck, want you to cum so deep inside me, please, baby.” 

You could barely finish the whimpers of your sentence before Javi’s pace became sloppy and erratic, hips stuttering before his jaw went slack, letting a low, long groan escape from his chest. 

“Oh, f-fuck-” Javi stammered, flushing his hips against yours as you felt his warm spend coat your walls, pressed so deep inside you, you were convinced it’d have no choice but to stick, in a few weeks finding out baby number four would be on the way. 

Javi’s chest rose and fell, looking down at the way your bodies melted together beneath him, igniting something primal in him to see the mix of your arousal seeping around where the two of you met. His eyes darkened, looking down at you with a feral sort of smirk, not even giving you the chance to speak before his lips were crashing into yours again, hips slowly thrusting while his fingers rubbed at your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“J-Javi, what are you-” You muttered, cut off by the messy dancing of tongues and teeth in your mouths. 

“I’m not done yet, Momma. Not until I fuck myself so deep in there we know it fucking takes. Wanna keep you stuffed so fucking full of me.” Javi grunted, rubbing your clit faster at the way he could feel the walls of your pussy starting to flutter around him, determined to make sure he wasn’t the only one who finished. “Cum for me, baby. I know you’re close. Can feel how tight she’s getting for me.” 

You knew just as well as he did that the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine had slowly begun to flow to every inch of your body, building up through your legs and into your core, clenching down harder and harder around Javi’s cock, knowing there was no doubt the mess between your legs was surley just as wet as it sounded as he slid in and out of you. 

“Oh fuck, Javi, oh fuck- fuck, fuckfuckfuck- ah!” 

It didn't take long before your orgasm crashed through you, lighting up every inch of you in radiating pleasure, your cunt clamping down so hard around Javi’s cock, it made him let out a strangled gasp as he choked out curses under his breath. 

“Jesus, fuck. Gonna squeeze every last fucking drop outta me, huh? My greedy fuckin’ girl.” Javi smirked, planting a soft kiss on your lips before he slumped on top of you, your chests rising and falling as one as you finished coming down from your high. 

The two of you laid there for a moment, catching your breaths and basking in bliss before Javi was pulling out of you with a hiss, one hand wrapped around his softening cock, the other scooping up the mix of your spend pooling between your legs before it dripped to the floor, carefully pushing it back inside you. 

“Fuck,” Javi laughed to himself quietly, sitting back on his haunches, admiring the slick, shiny mess your pussy had become, “Jesus, I can’t remember the last time I came that hard.” 

“Looks like Christmas came early this year… and so did you.” You giggled, making Javi roll his eyes, playfully shaking one of the legs still pressed to your chest. 

“Shut up.” He sighed, shaking his head at you before laying back down beside you, shifting so that his chest was pressed to your back, spooning you in his grasp. “Gotta make sure Santa’s not the only thing coming down the chimney this year.” 

“Jesus Christ, Javi.” You can’t help but snort, ashamed of how easily amused you are by his stupid puns. 

“What? You let me get my gift early, least I can do is stuff your stocking for you.” 

“Oh my god, you are the worst.” 

The two of you giggled, basking in your laughter as you laid together on the floor, only spurred on by the fact you realized how ridiculous it was that the two of you were completely naked in the middle of your living room, surrounded by a sea of wrapping paper and presents. 

“Speaking of stocking stuffers, we should finish wrapping the rest of these gifts we have out before we go to bed. At least some of these presents should be wrapped, because the one you just gave me was most definitely not.” You teased, craning your neck to pepper ticklish kisses across Javi’s jaw. 

“It’s the gift that keeps on giving. I’ll give it to you tomorrow too, if you let me.” Javi grinned, giving you a playful wink before pressing a kiss into your messy hair and patting your hip, reaching over you to grab the pile of clothes the two of you had left next to you. “Seriously though, thank you. You and our girls are the best gift I could ever have, but adding one more would make me so fucking happy. I love you, Osita.” 

“I love you too, Javi. You guys are the best gift I could ask for, too. Although, I will say, your gift also selfishly works in my favor, too. Some presents are just better unwrapped.”

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[luveline]

Hiii!! Could I request a bombshell reader x Spencer where someone (a local police maybe) says something rude to her about her appearance or something and normally it doesn’t really get to her, but something snaps and she kinda shuts down/is rude to Spencer until he coaxes it out of her? Sorry it’s long I had an idea and ran w it loollll

ty for requesting angel! confident fem!reader, 1k

Spencer shouldn’t expect his colleague to hold his hand, especially one so confident. What sense would that make, a woman as established as you are, who smiles without a lick of worry nor smugness, wanting to hold his hand? 

But you do it all the time, is the thing. In the car on the way to crime scenes, in the hallways of the office, under the round table. It started as a tethering for his distractedness, when one day he’d wanted to talk but hadn’t had the presence of mind to walk at the same time, so you’d taken his hand and led him to the office. You’ve been taking it at your discretion ever since.  

Spencer knows something is wrong —you haven’t tried to hold his hand all day. And even if you aren’t interested in him romantically, Spencer has come to crave the touch. He’ll accept platonic hand holding. Anything, really. 

“You’re staring very deeply, Dr. Reid,” you mutter, shades from your usual lightness. 

“I’m thinking.” 

“Aren’t you always?” 

“About you.”

“Well,” you smile fleetingly. “You should always be thinking about me.” 

“You’re truly humble.” 

His joke doesn’t land, it crashes and burns; your smile fades completely into a short, sharp line. Your gaze moves back into the restaurant, waiting for the team's food order in silence once again. 

Spencer’s pinky finger twitches across the gap. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks. 

“Fine.” 

You stay quiet, Spencer worries. He takes the bags before you can when they bring your food to the collection desk, two lumps of heat he holds to his thighs as you begin the walk back to the hotel. Tonight, the team will pick at their food together and rehash the same arguments they’ve been making all day, filling in each other's gaps, and tomorrow the work will start again. He can’t have you this unhappy again tomorrow. 

“You’re amazing,” he says, watching you turn to him from the corner of his eye, “you know you are, we all do, everyone who meets you. I know you don’t need me to tell you that, or to feel better, but… I’m here for you. If you want to talk. It’s been a hard couple of days, and talking about traumatic events as they happen and directly afterward make them easier to recover from.” 

“I’m not traumatised.” 

“Upsetting,” he corrects. “Having a shoulder to cry on is good for you, and I can be that shoulder. You know, if you need me to be.” 

He can’t know this in the moment, though maybe one day you’ll tell him, further down the line when the hand holding is better defined, but you look at him and you love him. To know Spencer is to love him. Or at least that’s how you’ve always felt. You’d love to cry on his shoulder about what transpired that morning if it weren’t embarrassing to think about, you’re upset over a throwaway comment made by nobody important. 

Spencer offers his company earnestly. He stammers. It’s amazingly sincere, as he usually is. He won’t mind if it’s embarrassing, he’ll just listen. 

You clear your throat. “I know I’m not to everyone’s taste. I know that the way I… present myself isn’t what most men like. People love confidence, but not when it’s bossy, not when it’s– when it’s vain. And I am vain. I think about my appearance a lot, I think I’m beautiful most of the time, I try so hard to have that be true.” You eye him thoughtfully. “Do you realise that?” 

He shakes his head gently, one ear toward one shoulder and then the other, as though balancing. “Sort of. I know you put effort into your appearance, but I also assume a lot of it to be natural.” 

“Right, well. It’s not natural. Not really. My natural beauty wouldn’t be all the beautiful to most people. And I’ve accepted that, I know what I like about myself, and–” You’re losing the thread of your point, an upset creeping into your melodic tone and turning it ragged. “When people tell me they don’t like how I look now, I guess it hurts because I know they wouldn’t like me before, either, and I feel defeated because I know I can’t win.” 

“Who said they don’t like how you look?” Spencer asks, confused, on his way to annoyed. 

“Officer Friendly.” You look to your shoes, watching the steps you take. “Guess he wasn’t as nice as we thought.” 

“What did he say to you?” 

You shrug. “Same story. He doesn’t like girls who wear makeup. Doesn’t like uppity women.” 

“Did he call you that?” 

“What are you gonna do if he did?” you ask without malice. 

“Morgan’s teaching me self defence for a reason.” You smile at his light joke, though it doesn’t last. He transfers the takeout bags into one hand, the other held out to you, his fingers sliding down your arm to your wrist. “You know you’re beautiful, with or without makeup. And you’re not uppity, you’re out of his league. There’s a difference.” 

“You’re flirting with me.” 

“No.” He wishes he had the wherewithal sometimes, but this isn’t flirting. “I’m being honest with you. Men like that don’t like you because they know they’ll never, ever have you, or anyone like you. There isn’t anyone like you,” he adds, sliding his hand into yours. 

He squeezes all your fingers together twice in quick succession. 

“Don’t let a jealous chauvinist halfwit make you think you’re not good enough,” he says. 

You curl your fingers around his before he can take his hand back. Slowly, you squeeze his hand. Then, smiling, you let him go. 

“I’ve never heard you say something mean like that,” you say. “Halfwit. That’s crass.” 

“I was going to say he’s an asshole, if that’s better.” 

Your laugh echoes off of the sidewalk. “That’s perfect. Say something meaner.” 

The insult he uses next doesn’t bear repeating. 

[plutoslastwords]

I love ur baby Norris fic smmmm

Can you do one where she is feeling super clingy and just dosent want to leave him alone whether she is just always wanting to be held or just living in his shadow and constantly following him.

koala time

lando norris x daughter!reader

summary: baby norris doesn't get clingy often, but when she does, she really does

warnings: none!

w/c: 1.6k

a/n: sorry this is rushed and all over the place hahah, but hope you enjoy xx

~~~

For a three year old, you are relatively independent. If he had to guess, Lando would regretfully say that it is because he has to be away so often, so you have had to learn to cope with life without your daddy. Obviously you have babysitters and such when he can’t be there to look after you himself, but he knows that no one can properly fill the void of a missing parent.

It's not like you're already ready to live by yourself yet, but it’s the little things like knowing where the cup cupboard is, or where all of your clothes are so you can get yourself dressed in the morning - though you sometimes struggle with the fiddly buttons. In a way, it makes Lando sad, he should be the one doing these things for you, you’re just a baby, you shouldn’t have to do this all yourself.

Unfortunately, there’s not much he can do about it except shower you with attention whenever he gets the chance, making sure that you know just how much he loves you.

However, no matter how independent you can be, there are times where you just need your daddy.

Lando has dubbed it ‘koala time’, when you practically attach yourself to him, not letting him go anywhere or do anything without you, clinging to him like he’s about to disappear. It normally occurs when he’s just got back from a long trip away, and for the next few days you follow him around like a shadow, placing yourself in his lap every moment that you can, whether it is convenient or not.

At present, you’re on Lando’s private jet, along with a few other drivers whose names you haven’t been bothered to remember. The next race is in Japan, and luckily you have some time off from school for spring break, so naturally Lando is taking you along. You’ve never been to Japan, but Daddy has told you that it is very cool, and he’ll take you to lots of shops in Tokyo to buy you new toys, so you’re excited.

The flight from Monaco is long, you spend most of it asleep on a little makeshift bed that you have, and the rest of it immersed in some movie that Lando has got playing on your iPad. You’re not in any sort of clingy mood at the moment, so you’re perfectly happy to sit by yourself and watch your cartoons.

Finally, you arrive in Japan, Lando scooping you up from the plane and carrying you through the airport to the awaiting van that will take you both to the hotel.

“You excited, angel?” He coos at you as he places you on his lap in the car, your bags disregarded to the side.

You nod eagerly, everyone so far has been very nice to you and you are awaiting the moment you can get your hands on some new toys.

The drive to the hotel is fairly long, as Tokyo is so big. You’re only staying in Tokyo for a couple nights, to enjoy the city before travelling further south down to the Suzuka circuit. On the drive you quite contently sit on Lando’s lap, making small comments about what you can see outside the window, mainly just taking in your surroundings. 

When you finally arrive at the hotel, it is very grand, very befitting for a millionaire Formula 1 driver. You’re escorted to your suite, which has a grand king-sized bed for Lando, and a smaller twin bed for you, where a bunny plushie is sitting there waiting. (Lando had told them in advance about your love for the animal)

The excitement of the new room is almost enough to defeat the exhaustion that you are feeling, but eventually the long flight starts to catch up with you, and Lando knows you well enough to notice the first stages of collapse.

“Okay, baby, I think it’s bedtime now, yeah?” He picks you up from where you’re sitting on the bed, holding you on his hip whilst he looks through the suitcases to find you some pyjamas.

In response you try to protest, but the only sound that comes out is a yawn, and even at 3, you know that it is a losing battle. Instead, you opt to lean in closer to his hold, burying your face in the crook of his neck and falling asleep there. He smiles when he notices, softly changing your sleeping body into some pyjamas, and tucking you into your bed with your favourite teddies.

“Goodnight angel” He presses a kiss to your forehead.

The next morning you wake up as usual, you crawl into your daddy’s bed, snuggling up next to him to which he responds by wrapping you in his arms and falling back asleep. You’re having none of that, continually hitting him until he wakes up and gets you both ready to go down to breakfast.

It’s there that the jetlag hits. You’ve never been anywhere with this much of a time difference before. Well, you have, but you were a newborn, and newborns have no concept of time, newborns never sleep. Therefore, the jetlag hits you hard and fast, causing you to almost fall asleep in your half eaten waffle. 

Lando chuckles when he notices this, being an F1 driver, he’s basically become immune to jetlag, so it’s amusing to see his usually oh so energetic daughter completely collapse.

“You tired, baby?” He coos

“‘S early, daddy…” You mumble, eyelids threatening to close.

“It’s 10am, angel girl.” He chuckles at your drowsy state.

Throughout the day your jetlag doesn’t improve, you’re still very very tired. However, unlike most toddlers who have tiredness and grumpiness going hand in hand, your tiredness comes with a big dose of clinginess.

After breakfast you refuse to walk anywhere without Lando carrying you, burying your head into the crook of his neck, and your little hands gripping the collar of his shirt tightly. 

When you get to the place where Lando is meant to be meeting up with a few of his team members to discuss what’s going to be happening in the upcoming weekend you still refuse to let go, even after Lando sits down at the office table.

“Baby, do you wanna go sit over there for a bit whilst Daddy chats?” He asks softly, knowing you’re probably in a bit of a fragile mood.

You shake your head stubbornly at this, you want to stay with your daddy. You just grip onto him tighter. 

At some point in the meeting, you fall fast asleep, and a kind secretary takes you from Lando’s arms - with his permission - to go and lay you down on a nice comfy sofa for you to continue your nap.

When you wake up, you are appalled. Where is your daddy? You immediately sit up, ignoring the rush of exhaustion that is still somehow hanging on, no matter how much you’ve been sleeping. You toddle into the room where Lando is, seeing that he is just leaving, from another door, presumably to go and grab some lunch from the office canteen. Naturally, you follow close behind.

You trail behind him the rest of the way like a shadow. He doesn’t notice you as your legs aren't long enough to fully catch up. When he finally slows down a bit, you see your opportunity, running up to him and clinging onto his leg.

He jumps slightly. “Oh, baby, you gave me a fright, I thought you were having a nap, hm?” He scoops you up into his arms, holding you close.

“Want daddy.” You mumble, pulling at his curly hair. 

“We don’t pull hair, my love..” You pout at that, but stop, resting your head on his shoulder as he walks further into the lunch room. 

Throughout your stay in Tokyo the clinginess doesn’t get much better. Most notably is when he’s on a conference call with a brand back in England in the hotel room. He had put you to bed a couple hours before so wasn’t too worried about you interrupting. 

Obviously he had underestimated the power of a jet lagged toddler. 

You wake up unhappy, you’re still tired, you’ve been tired for days now, and you want your daddy. With a frown on your face you waddle into the room where he’s taking the call, standing next to his chair and holding your arms out, gesturing that you need to be held.

He looks at you with surprise, muting his mic, “Darling, you’re meant to be in bed…”

You don’t say anything in response, simply holding your arms out higher, pleading with your eyes for him to hold you. He knows he cannot resist once he sees that pleading look in your eyes, sighing he lifts you up, holding you on his lap for the rest of the call, not caring how unprofessional it might seem, any brand he works with should know that you’re his first priority, always.

After the call he puts you to bed, but you immediately crawl into his bed with him, grabbing at his arm and nestling your face into it like it’s a pillow. He sighs, knowing that there’s no way he’s winning this one.

He places a little kiss to the top of your head, “My little koala, daddy loves you.”

~~~

a/n: pls continue sending in requests about baby norris, i love writing her!!