#what counts a childhood favorite characters

[lavendermatchastrife]

Please Come Home For Christmas

summary: you move back to your small town just in time for the holidays and your hot new neighbor gives you a warm welcome!

a/n: I just thought that Gojo deserved to be in a Christmas romcom. This is one part, another will be released later.. probably. Either way this can be read as a standalone. I have not written or published since like 2014, fair warning I usually only write alt characters. Please enjoy my attempt at a corny Christmas romcom.

word count: 14300+

warnings: 18+ mdni, sexual content, unrealistic and corny, reader afab, au!non sorcerers, no beta we die like men, established last name, sensitive topic mentions such as: weight/mental health, insecure!reader, implied/referenced chubby!reader, mentioned/implied Asian reader, inexperienced!reader, cocky!gojo, alcohol use, drunk!reader, drunk!gojo, swearing, gojo lowkey objectifies tf out of reader, obsession if you squint, use of 'you' not 'y/n'

Snow gently falls as you wander outside, looking for the pickup checkpoint. Cold hands rub together while you make your way through the outside of the bustling airport. You breathe a few puffs of warm air onto them, occasionally scanning the crowd for a familiar head of ashen blue hair. A sigh breezes past your mouth, of course your best friend is running late on one of the coldest days of the year so far. A cold day and you had failed to wear a pair of gloves. (In your defense you did just get your nails done.) You sigh once again, and go to grab your stack of luggage to look around for your friend some more. You’d hoped the pickup area would be less crowded considering the abrasive temperatures and slicing winds. Of course that wasn’t the case as countless people flooded the outside of the airport. Christmas was right around the corner, it made sense that it was going to be crowded regardless of where you went. Another sigh wracks your body when someone pushes against you, almost knocking you over. Before you can turn on your heel and give them a piece of your mind however, soft gloved hands obscure your vision from behind. Giggles erupt and the petite frame behind you shakes with their amusement, and you gasp in feigned shock.

 “Guess who~” the singsong voice brings a bright smile to your face.

 “Eve!” you whip around and bring your best friend into a tight embrace. She hugs you back even tighter, and you both hold each other soaking in each other's warmth and company. All care for the world lost on you during this brief reunion. The scent of her favorite perfume invades your senses as you take in a deep breath. Pulling back, your eyes process her appearance for the first time in what felt like decades. In all honesty, you called or video chat almost every day; but it had been so long since you’d actually seen her in person.

 “Oh my god I’ve missed you so much!” She cries out dramatically, pulling you back in for another hug. You chuckle, patting her head while she holds you in place.

 “I missed you too, Eve.” she lets up her hold on you, and you take note of her outfit. Her hair is styled into low hanging twin tails, a white and grey plaid scarf is neatly wrapped around her neck. A dark purple puffer jacket with white fur trim swallows her petite figure, a denim skirt is placed over a pair of thick tights that are surely keeping her warm. 

 You've known Evelyn Days since your childhood. Meeting in some dumb middle school extracurricular (not dumb; it was a book club) and it was like you’d had an instant connection. One seat next to each other and from there it was history. Coincidentally she lived two houses over, and came by whenever she felt like it. Most nights you’d spend at each other’s houses, doing projects; homework; video games; sometimes nothing at all. She was your date to prom. When you moved away from your small town it was hard, not because you particularly liked where you’d grown up; but because you’d found home in Eve. While you were close to your parents for most of your life, you’d had a falling out. Your relationship with your parents became rocky when you’d decided to pack everything up and pursue a career in writing in the big city. Most family members thought you’d been betraying your community. Rather than settle down and start a family, pick up a job at a local business, or further your education for the betterment of your town; you’d left everyone behind. A long time ago you were dead set on becoming a teacher there. Growing up changed your way of thinking, and instead you decided to become a writer. Life felt stagnant and often boring in your small town, it was beautiful and safe, however you couldn’t shake the feeling that you needed to live a little more. Your parents eventually saw your side of things, but the time spent with that tension was still hard to think about. Despite the popular opinion of your tight knit community, your friend Eve supported your decision. She was all for your abrupt change in career path and your sudden need to leave. She of course was heartbroken, but knew that it wasn’t goodbye.

 Eve smiles at you, shaking you from your reminiscing, it reaches her eyes and you feel in that moment incredibly happy to be home. You take a hold of your luggage and she helps you with any bags she can carry. As she turns on her heel, leading you out of the airport you catch up on your small town gossip. She tells you all about how Vanessa (your high school bully) still can’t keep a boyfriend. Mr. Choi (your neighbor down the road) passed away almost six months ago. Alma (a mutual friend from high school) is on her second pregnancy; twins. Some kids have been vandalizing the lake, TP-ing the cherry blossom trees. While driving home one piece of juicy gossip piqued your interest a little more than the others.

 Coming from out of state was a handsome, mysterious, new high school teacher.

 “He moved here about 4 months ago. All of the old guys grumbled as soon as they saw his moving van outside of Mr. Choi’s house. You should’ve been there, the whole town gathered at your parent’s place and watched in your front lawn while they moved his stuff in.” She giggles at that, stopping at a red light and turning her head to face you. “No but he’s like… actually incredibly handsome. Even from far away I could tell he was gonna be way too much for our sleepy town.” You believed her, rolling your eyes as she went on about how she just knew he had a tight body. “Oh but that’s beside the point. He’s actually a pretty stand up guy. We all had our doubts, y’know, since he’s not from around here. But he goes to church every Sunday. Bought gifts for his immediate neighbors and paid a visit to the rest to introduce himself. The kids in his class love him. He’s been a pretty great addition to the community.” Her rambling brings a small smile to your face, and as she prattles on about the next person and the next subject you listen with your head turned to look outside of your window. November was looking more like December, snow beginning to fall just a little harsher as the time passed on, gathering in fluffy piles on every street and lawn in sight.

 Your surroundings start to become familiar after an hour of driving, and you feel excitement building up inside of you. Shades of blue, orange, and pink have replaced the bright golden morning, the little bit of farmland you passed through was engulfed by fluffy blankets of shimmering white. As you cross into your small town you’re greeted by the picture perfect Christmas card. A rainbow of  lights decorate the outside and inside of various shops. Big velvety red bows are tied around every iron lamp post. At the center of the town square is a gazebo, sparkling red wreaths are on the pillars of the entry point. The railings have silver and gold lights wrapped around it intertwining with a darker red garland. Christmas was only a couple weeks away, and your town was decked out for the holiday. 

 “The city decided to decorate early this year, did it a week before Thanksgiving.” Eve explains, rolling her eyes as you stare in wonder at the various Christmas light fixtures scattered around the small park surrounding the gazebo.

  “Those weren’t there the last time I visited for the holidays.” You note, turning to look at Eve and pointing in the direction of the lights. You knew your town heavily relied on the income brought in by the season, but they were really going all out.

 “I think they’re hoping to draw in more Christmas tourists or something.” She replies, finally beginning the turn down your road. “Like, a Christmas walk? A family photo event?”

 “Mm, I see.”

 As you near your house, you begin to pass by Mr. Choi’s and you try not to immediately widen your gaze in surprise. Even from a distance you can tell that the man struggling to put up decorations outside of his new house - is quite tall. Muscular but not to an obvious degree in his navy sweater. Bright red ears, a matching pink nose, eyes hidden behind rectangular shaded frames, chin tucked into a comically large cream-colored scarf. Bright white hair tousled about, shit eating grin plastered on his face when he set something up successfully. You didn’t even need to see him up close, you knew this man was gorgeous.

 “Is that our new neighbor?” You ask, trying to mask your interest but of course your friend picks up on your curiosity.

 “Sure is. Quite the looker.” She hums, slowing to a stop to wave at him when you finally pass by.

 He’s on your side of the car, struggling with a roll of string lights this time. His hands are visibly shaking as he throws one end of the chords over the other. When he registers that there’s a window rolled down and someone shouting, “Good afternoon Mr. Gojo!” He begins to jog your way. You hold your breath while turning to your friend and silently will her to roll up your window and move on. The evil look she gave you had you sending a quick prayer up to the sky before finally turning to meet your neighbor. He stops by your window, leaning down and resting a folded arm on the roof of her car to get a good look at you both. His proximity turns your nerves hot, and you lean back slightly away from him. 

 “Well if it isn’t Lil’ Miss Evelyn!” His deep voice rang in your ears, a playful lilt sending warning signals to your brain. He shifts his glasses down, crystalline blue eyes peeking over the rim. 

 “And who might you be?” Gojo tries not to stage at you too hard, but he’s taken aback by the sight of you. Your hair was braided into low pigtails, your pout had a deep burgundy gloss. He could tell you were beautiful as soon as he saw you even from far away, but he was almost winded when he came close to you.

 “I’m-“ Evelyn cuts you off, grabbing your hand and holding it close to her cheek.

 “Why, this is my beautiful wife, finally back in town.” You turn to face her, cheeks tinting pink and you laugh at her remark. You properly introduce yourself to him, and try not to dwell on his gaze that hasn’t left you.

 “Visiting for the holidays?” He asks, his gaze not-so-subtly raking across your face and then over your frame.

 “No, moving back. I figured if I could do my job anywhere, why not home?” You shrug as your response leaves your lips, a lazy and content smile spreading across your features.

 “She’s a writer, a very talented one.” Eve brags, turning her nose up in pride.

 “Oh neat, maybe I’ve read your work?”

 “I doubt it, I’m hardly popular, and I usually only write for children and teens.”

 “Then I’ll have to snag a couple copies.” He insists, pulling his phone out to look

you up. He makes a show of adding your oldest book to his Amazon cart before leaning back down, “you find a decent place in the area, Miss?” His eyes stay locked with yours as he waits for your answer.

 “Oh, just about the coziest place around.“ You point at your parent’s house across the street. “Childhood room, warm meals, rent free. I have it made.” His eyebrows raise at this, cheeky smirk making its way onto his face. You were the pretty eldest daughter of the Manivong’s he’d heard so much about. “It’s good to meet you, Mr. Gojo.” You add, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, looking up at him and finally letting your eyes meet his own. He reaches a slender hand out, long fingers grasping your own in a warm handshake.

 “It’s very good to meet you too, Miss.” He replies, winking at you. “Call me Satoru.” You nod in response and silence falls between you both. His hand holds yours, unwavering and you hope your own doesn’t start to sweat. He’s clearly hanging onto your every word and action, your nerves burn with his active perception. Your friend is long forgotten as you both have a staring contest with each other. The cold mid-afternoon air seemingly has no effect on either of you. Unbeknownst to you, Evelyn was being thoroughly entertained by the whole interaction. She’d never seen you so smitten before, and she couldn’t wait to get you alone later for the inevitable talk that would happen.

“You’ll have to drop by some time, I’ve made it a point to get to know all of my neighbors.” He leans in just a little closer, “If you’re anything like your old man, maybe you could help me with some decorating.” He suggests, he sounds playful and you aren’t sure if he’s hitting on you. You weren’t used to interacting much with anyone outside of your immediate circle, let alone the opposite gender. You always had a hard time telling when people were flirting with you or being friendly. Deciding that maybe this Gojo character is just a really friendly man, you attempt to brush off the itchy feeling building up inside of you. However you couldn’t help but be slightly intimidated by his confident aura, so you offer a meek nod.

 “Maybe, if my schedule allows it.” You’d noticed that he still hadn’t let go of your hand, and hesitantly you pull your own from his grip.

 “Well if decorating falls through, I'm sure we could find something else to do.” He’s hitting on you so obviously now and it brings just a little bit more warmth to your face. You try to sputter something witty out, however words are lost on you in your slightly flustered state. You look like a goldfish, your eyes wide while your mouth opens and closes with every failed attempt at a response. He soaks it in, smitten by how easily his words effected you. 

 “Well,” Eve decides then to intervene, “we should probably head out. She has a mountain of unpacking to do. I’ll bet her parents are waiting for her.” Eve says, getting ready to pull away. Satoru’s eyes flash with disappointment for a split second, not wanting to part from such a pretty thing. You’d been so easy to tease, so cute under his scrutiny he couldn’t help but mess with you even if it was just for a little while. He was looking forward to being neighbors with you, already.

 “I would hate to keep those two waiting.” Satoru replies, glancing from Eve back to you, “It’s been a pleasure.”

 “Likewise. Have a good night, don’t hurt yourself with all that decorating. Christmas isn’t going anywhere.” you tease, beginning to roll your window up. It wasn’t clever and you were more embarrassed while trying to match whatever playful atmosphere there was than you would’ve been if you had just said something like, “bye see y’round”. Gojo chuckles in response, pale blue eyes peering down at you from those damned rims one final time.

 “I’ll certainly try not to, especially now that I have such a beauty watching me.” He sends you a wink before he’s pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and skulking back to his yard. Your eyes are fixed on his back as Eve peels away, and they can’t seem to leave his broad figure until you’re pulling into your driveway. The very short drive to your house is spent in silence, not uncomfortable but very knowing. You had the feeling that you were in for an earful. You were grateful she’d wait until you were both comfortable in your room to even begin to bring up your vaguely salacious interaction. 

 Much like the other homes in your neighborhood, yours was decked out in various lights and fixtures. Your father had a penchant for detailed displays and Christmas was his favorite holiday. A delicate nativity scene graced the center of your front yard. Various cream colored light-up deer were placed across the rest of the yard. The front porch had dark evergreen garland wrapped around the pillars with a rainbow of sparkling lights, a classic poinsettia wreath hangs on a silver hook at the center of your burgundy front door. A sloppily put together snowman is closest to the steps of the porch, and you wrap your black and white striped scarf around it. As you tug it on tightly the front door suddenly flings open and three children resembling yourself come running after you. “Sis!” They all yell in unison, trying not to stumble over each other as they race into your arms. You wait for them, arms wide stretched and they pummel into you. All four of you fall to the ground, snow catching you and their delighted squeals allow a sigh of relief to finally escape you. It finally felt like you were home. Bumbling squeals and excited rambling fill the empty silence. Rosy cheeks beam up at you. After a good laugh, you four scramble to get back up, while you dust off the snow from yourself and the children you feel the sudden need to turn around. When you do, Gojo is leaning on the railing of his porch. His gaze brings heat to your cheeks once again, and when you meet it you abruptly turn back around. You miss the signature sly smirk he throws your way, before he turns away and into the warmth of his own home.

 “Oh my god, you guys aren’t even in snow suits, where are your jackets?!” Your exclamation brings exasperated groans and naughty giggles spread amongst your siblings. You shuffle them inside, rolling your luggage inside along with Eve. “Shoes off!” You yell at them, when you finally clamber through your doors, excitement buzzing around you; shaking off your own shoes. “Mommy~ Daddy~ your favorite is home!”

 Your home is just the same as you’d last left it. Toys scattered around, various shoes strewn near the front door. A staircase and banister directly in front of the door, leading to the second floor where your old room is. The only difference between your last visit and now are the mountains of Christmas decorations throughout every area. The same evergreen garland wraps around the handrail leading upstairs, multi-color lights wrapped along with it. Wreaths of varying themes are on every door. Leading into the living room that is just a few steps away and to the right of your front door, are snowflakes clearly made by your siblings, hanging from the ceiling or taped to the walls. A mistletoe hangs in the entryway of the living room, and as you pass through it you spot a great big Christmas tree tucked into the corner. Not yet decorated.

 You hear clattering from the kitchen, a few light swears and then your mother is rushing over to you. You’re engulfed in a soft yet firm embrace, and when you hug your mother back your father saunters down the steps from the floor above. He’s in no rush to hug you like your mother, but he smiles while he waits. “Ah, my little girl!” he pulls you in tight while you bury your face into his chest. He smells like cinnamon and a heavy aftershave (of the musk variety) that makes you cringe and pull away in disgust.

 “Whatever that is, smells awful!” you remark, scrunching your nose. He huffs and rolls his eyes mumbling something along the lines of it’s always something with you. “Do you need any help with dinner, mom?” You ask, she shakes her head with a soft smile.

“Oh no dear, you know how I get about my kitchen. Just go get your stuff situated and settle in. I’ll call you guys down when it’s ready.” You don’t have to turn around to know that Eve is buzzing at the end of the staircase, waiting for you to finally follow her up the steps and into your room. You know she’s hardly said a word to your parents, eager to ’talk boys’ with you in what felt like years.

 You turn away from your parents, finally making your way to the steps and sure enough Eve is there. She impatiently grabs your hand and drags you up and around the corner. Your room is on the left side of the second floor and the only one at the end of the hall. Adjacent to a restroom that you’d claimed as your own however it was originally for guests. Nearing your bedroom you pump the breaks, Eve quirks an eyebrow. Her silent question is not lost on you.

 “I just wanna put it out there that I really, truly, honestly don’t know what that was about.” It sounds as if you’re pleading but you aren’t sure if you should be defensive. What is there to even be defensive about? It was just a little flirting. Wasn’t it? It’s not like it was any grand display of attraction. There were a few playfully exchanged sentences. 

 She shakes her head unconvinced, and pulls you into your room, the door already slightly ajar. You stumble in, greeted by video game posters, dark bedding, a large fluffy black rug on oak floors, and an enthusiastic cat. The large tan and brown Maine coon stretches into a big yawn. He then chirps while running up to you, weaving through your legs. He had been taking a nap on your bed, the indent from his resting spot on the corner closest to your door still there.

 “Listen babe,” Eve crawls onto your bed, propping one of your pillows behind her back as she sits against the wall. “you don’t flirt. If you’ve ever thought someone was hot, you’d usually just tell me about it later.”

 “I mean, sure he was attractive-“

 “Let me finish,” you sit next to her, pulling your cat into your lap. “I think he wants you.”

 “You do?” You’re bashful and twiddle with the ends of your fingers a little, peering up at her through your lashes.

 “Oh my god he wants you so bad!” She cries out, and you both erupt into giggles. You laugh at the fact that someone as crazy good looking as Gojo even looked at you. It just felt too good to be true. “He was inviting you over; he wants to hook up with you, I just know it.”

 “I’m not gonna-“

 “You should sleep with him!” You quickly shush her, covering her mouth with your hands. You stare at her horrified, wide eyes and she mirrors them.

 “Shhhhhh, my parents will hear.”

 “Sorry, sorry, but just listen to me. You had a really bad breakup, I think just a little fling could be good for you.”

 “That sounds so easy coming from you.” You sigh, flopping down so that you’re resting with your back flush to the mattress and your legs are draped over Eve’s. Your hair is splayed out, and your cat (Dusty) fiddles with it as you speak. “I have, like, no confidence, plus. I’ve never…gone all the way with anyone before. Messing around is one thing but putting it in scares the hell out of me.” You groan, rubbing your hands over your face.

 “You could just give him some head.” Her suggestion makes you snort, “either way, he was totally into you. He’s never talked to me like that. On top of it, he’s not dating anyone around here.” While she speaks, you decide to go through your boxes. You pull out a towel and travel sized toiletries. Throwing a bag of makeup you found onto the vanity adjacent to your bed, you nod at what she’s saying. You kick your clothes off, feeling the sweat from your layered airport outfit cool your skin once exposed to your slightly chilly room.

 “Would you, y’know-” as her sentence trails off, her eyebrows wiggle with implication.

 “Oh absolutely, but like; in my dreams right?” She scoffs at that, and you defensively ask, “well would you?”

 “Nah, I’m holding out for this super cute friend of his that pops by every couple weekends.” Eve sighs dreamily and you quirk an eyebrow at this. She doesn’t further elaborate and you’re too tired to even ask about that. Rather, you finish getting together a change of clothes for the night, not wanting to look sweaty and awful for your first dinner with your family in ages. The black bra you wore accentuates the curves of your breasts rather nicely before they’re hidden behind your carefully wrapped towel; and Eve of course is no stranger to this revelation, “Did you go up a cup size?”

 “Mhm, yep. Thank you for noticing, it’s all the carbs from that bakery near my old place. It was a real problem.” You sigh again for what feels like the billionth time, recalling your binge eating during the worst parts of your most recent breakup. Your long term boyfriend had cheated on you, in your own bed, a tale as old as time. You were miles away from any support system you had, and the only comfort you’d found was through constant snack runs. Snack runs, romantic comedies, and so many tissue boxes. As a result of this you’d put on more pounds than you’d care to ever admit. During the lowest point you had decided that enough was enough and began exercising more. Not working out at a gym by any means, god knows that you did not have the capacity nor the commitment for that. You walked more, and did Chloe Ting workouts in your room when you were feeling motivated enough. “You’d think that considering I’m much more active, I’d have lost more weight. These tits just won’t go away.”

 “More o’ you to love.” You roll your eyes while she suggestively bites her lip. You tell her you’ll be back, and go to take a much needed shower. Washing away the dirt and grime from your long day eases the tension in your shoulders. Your soap smells like lavender, the scent and steam filling your bathroom almost instantly. When you finish, you walk back into your room with your freshly dried hair and a towel still wrapped around you. You shimmy on slightly flared black pants, and you thank whatever is out there that the black turtleneck you chose for the night is the same shade. Finally after throwing on a random (black and white polka dot) pair of fuzzy socks, you get started on your makeup. It’s a simple wing, just to boost your confidence if anything. You keep your base a tinted moisturizer rather than a full coverage one, not wanting to go through the pain of setting everything with powder tonight. Dark brown lines your lips and you pop a matching shade of brown gloss. Feeling content with your freshened up appearance, you adjust your facial piercings back into place. Right as you finish up, your mother’s voice calls to you from outside of your door. A gentle rap against it follows her voice.

 “-would you mind running a plate over to Satoru? Dinner is ready, I'm just waiting for it to cool off a little before serving everyone else.” Your eyes widen in panic, she wants me to run dinner over to him? You don’t feel ready to see your dangerously handsome neighbor so soon. You open your door trying to remain as inconspicuous about your raging emotions as possible, “why, don’t you look lovely dear, did you go up a cup size?”

 “She sure did!” Eve replies still propped against your wall and resting on your bed, the fluffy cat now in her lap. “She would love to take Mr. Gojo a plate of food.” You whip your head around, squinting at her as if to say “you’re dead to me” and she sticks her tongue out at you. You groan quietly before turning back to your mother.

 “I’ve only just met him, do you think that’s a good idea? Won’t it be awkward?”

 “Oh he is a very sweet boy, I doubt you’ll have any problems. Now go get bundled up, it’s gotten colder out there.” Your mother insists, thrusting a hot container of food into your hands. It’s glass, and you’re grateful for the cloth keeping your fingers from being burnt but it’s still very hot to the touch. You don’t protest, if you did you know you’d tip her off. You were the one that always greeted your neighbors, brought leftovers, ran errands for everyone over the years, it’d be strange if you were suddenly opposed to it. “I feel so bad for that poor boy, still doesn’t have a real friend around here. All he does is work, or help out around town. ‘Least I can do is give him some dinner.” Your mother was too sweet for her own good. You hum in response, resigning yourself to the task thrust into your hands. Her bleeding heart was almost sickening. You decide to throw on your grey puffy jacket again, and matching fuzzy earmuffs. Black gloves hug your fingers, when you grab onto the container of food once again you’re thankful for the lack of heat. Your mother retreats down the steps and you close the door, taking a deep breath.

 “Oh my god you’re gonna do it.” Eve teases when you turn back around to her, your red face doesn’t help whatever denial spills from your lips. “Oh my god this is so exciting.” Her jittering frame full of excitement only further adds to your growing anxiety.

 “We’re not doing anything, I’m just being neighborly.”

❄️

Eve’s knowing look haunts you when you find yourself making the small trek to Gojo’s house. The lights are on, smoke coming from the chimney. His Christmas lights, that he’d successfully installed along the railing of his porch; twinkle in tune with your beating heart. You buzz his doorbell, staring at the silver and grey tinsel wreath hanging from his white front door.

 You’re just being neighborly.

 You’re just being neighborly.

 You’re just being-

 The door opens, and instead of staring at the pretty wreath it’s replaced by a slightly dampened shirt clinging onto a muscular chest. You gulp, and your eyes trail up.

 “Hello.” You start when he doesn’t say anything immediately, already feeling awkward.

 “Good evening, Miss.” Gojo’s deep voice is sultry, a stark contrast to his cheerful tone from earlier. He sounded tired. It’d gotten darker as the hours passed, the soft twinkling from the Christmas lights doused his features into an ethereal glow. He’d showered, his hair clearly still damp, and a towel hung over his shoulders. “I see you got all dolled up just to see lil ol’ me!” His teasing implication short circuits your brain. Your mouth runs dry, you forget what you were supposed to say.

 “I-“ you look quickly from his chest to his eyes back to his chest and then away, “do you like stew?”

 “Pardon?” Gojo leans against the frame of his door, his languid pose only accentuating the muscles previously hidden by his winter coat. You really do try to keep your eyes level with his own, but if they drift could anyone blame them?

 “My mother made stew,” you bring the glass dish forward, “well it’s either soup or it’s stew; I can’t remember. It’s hot so be careful.” Your averted gaze entices him to call out your name. Its softness comforts your nerves slightly. You turn to face him again, “oh, yes?”

 “Your mother makes a great stew.” Your eyes focus on his chest while he speaks, and it felt like he’d been flexing on purpose. Taunting you, as if he knew that you were like a cat being coaxed with some catnip. (Spoiler alert: what you brushed off as nothing was entirely deliberate.)

 “Yes, she does, she puts all of her love into her cooking.” You reply, shifting your gaze to finally meet his own.

 “Won’t you have dinner with me?” His tone is enticing, pleading if you focused hard enough to recognize it. His sudden invitation catches you off guard.

 “I’m sorry?”

 “How about I drive you back over to your place, you grab yourself a bowl, and we eat back at mine?” While he tries to sound suggestive, maybe even flirtatious he mainly sounds eager. He was hooked on you, just a single interaction with you and that was it to him. Gojo wanted to take any chance he could get to have you over.

 “I don’t know you.”

 “Well that’s what dinner is for silly.” He leans down towards you ever so slightly. It began to dawn on you that Gojo was a very bold man. If he wasn’t bold then he was certainly confident, and he was certain that you wanted him too. “Drinks, of course; are on me.”

 “I’m not sure..” you trail off, a shiver running through you as the night breeze starts to seep through your coat. Your breath comes out in a fog and Gojo of course seizes that opportunity as well. 

 “It is freezing outside, do you want a ride back to your place anyway?” You glance at him again, and he senses your hesitation. His mouth begins to open, but you cut him off.

 “I would appreciate that, thank you.” His smile is blinding and he turns inside slightly to shuffle around the wall for his keys. He slips on a pair of snow boots outside of his door (near the doormat). While he guides you to his car you realize how underdressed he is.

 “Mr. Gojo, where is your coat?!” You want to scold him like you would your siblings.

 “I’m fine like this, your place is just across the street.” You can’t protest when he opens the passenger door for you, but when you slip inside it’s like an ice box.

 “My god are you sure?” Your teeth want to chatter but you will them not to. With your jaw tensing you almost beg him to go put a coat on. “You’ll catch your death in here.”

 “You really hate this shirt, huh?” His tone is incredulous but you can tell he was just joking around. Even so, he reaches behind you towards the backseat. His proximity causes you to freeze up again, puffs of your breath fan across his close figure. He was so close to you; he smelled of peppermint. His bulging chest was so close, if you moved even the slightest bit you could easily rest your head against it. His pebbling nipples from behind his shirt seemed to taunt you, damn the cold weather. Gojo was invading your space on purpose, of course, and you were innocently oblivious. He produces a navy jacket, and as he slips it on you wonder if the wide turtleneck even keeps him warm.

 “I’d hate for you to catch a cold, think of your poor students.”

 “Ah, so you’ve heard of me?”

 “Just this afternoon.”

 “How’s my reputation?”

 “It’s hard to say, so far it’s leaning towards your favor.” You tut, it’s playful. “My personal opinion however, has yet to be determined.”

 “I’ll have to find some way to get you on my side.”

 Once the vehicle is warmed up the short drive to your house is made in a peaceful silence but there is a tension growing. From what, you can’t quite place. You thank the gods when you realize that you’re in your driveway. There’s a palpable pause between you both, he’s waiting for you to leave. Your fingers twitch from their spot in your lap, and you feel yourself stalling. Looking to the side, your pretty glossed lips part, Gojo finds himself staring at them. A cool feeling washes over yourself, not wanting to part just yet; you can’t stop your mouth from moving.

 “I’ll be right back.”

 Gojo blinks, “you will?” He swears he can hear his heartbeat quickening almost immediately. 

“Yes, I won’t be long. Dinner is still okay?”

 Fuck yes it is.

 Your eyes widen and he realizes that he’d said that out loud. He doesn’t fluster easily but he coughs to cover his brief outburst. Gojo was not an eager man, as cocky as he may seem he truly wanted for nothing. He’d never had to proposition anyone before. He knew he was good looking, he had decent finances on top of it. Yet when he approached that window earlier his confidence seemed to leave him instantly. Your wide eyes and flushed cheeks were endearing, not to mention you were exactly his type. He wanted you bad.

 You don’t waste any more time and unbuckle yourself, hurrying to leave his car. You had to be quick or you’d change your mind. He watched with bated breath as you hurriedly walk up the steps and into the warmth of your childhood home. As soon as you’re out of his sight, Gojo relaxes almost immediately. He leans down to rest his forehead against the steering wheel, a dramatically whisper-shouted, “fuckkkkk yessss.” escaping him in the process. He was so in, you were right within arms reach. He felt lame, wanting you so bad despite having no idea who you were. If he was a better person with a clearer mind his almost imstwnt longing for you might have concerned him. However he was simple, all he could think of at this point was having you under him by the end of the night. Call him a sleaze, but he truly didn’t do this often, so he was going to take what he could get. Gojo’s fingers grip the steering wheel harder, and as his body thrums with anticipation he finds himself hurriedly tidying himself up. He checks his appearance in the mirror, perfect as always. Nothing in his teeth, lips glossed. His hair was neat but also messy in a sexy way, like he’d done it on purpose-yet he ruffled it some more for good measure. He unzips his jacket to get a look at what exactly he had put on last minute. The compression shirt he threw on when he had heard his doorbell ring was a lucky grab. He knew it hugged his chest well, clinging to him a little harder and a couple areas dampened with his shower slicked body. It was no surprise that the grey sweats that hung low on his hips didn’t leave much to the imagination. Yeah, he had this in the bag.

 On your side of things, your heart thrummed in a gentle acceptance. You’d left Gojo to his own devices and upon entry into your home, you were refusing to let panic set in. Your siblings (Emmett, Phoebe, Lillian) as well as Eve and your parents are situated around the table. Slices of warm bread, a tub of butter, as well as carefully placed bowls of stew were placed in front of everyone. They’d been waiting for you. Your mother is the first to greet you. Shit, you were beginning to feel bad.

 “I know this is so last minute, but do you care if I have dinner with Mr. Gojo?” You hate being inconsiderate, you know they’ve missed you. It was your first night home, after all. They were so clearly waiting for you to get back.

 “What for?” Your father sneers, his bright mood upon seeing you dampening at the mention of your new neighbor. “Why can’t he just eat over here?”

 “Well honey, there weren’t enough chairs. The old set is in the attic, I didn’t want to bother with all of that.” Your mother explains, “I think that’s a wonderful idea, dear. Getting close with people around your age is important after all.”

 “He’s in his late twenties, Maira!”

 “Making friends is important, Christian. She doesn’t have many, love.”

 “Eve is here though, that’s so rude to her!”

 “Mr. Manivong, I’m here like, every night. I won’t mind.” Eve is practically bouncing in her seat and you know you’re in for it later. She tries to not sound too excited at the prospect of you having dinner with the hottest catch in town. “I’ll keep the bed warm for you, my love.” She salutes you and you bite your lip in nervousness. You make a vague gesture towards yourself, silently asking if you look alright. Her salute shifts into an okay and then she begins to dramatically fan herself. You snort and shake your head at that. Neither of you realize your father was watching the both of you until you hear a scoff come from him.

 “Of course.” He grumbles out. Everyone in the room ignores him.

 You don’t remember seeing your mother leave her seat. Before you even realize it she has a hot bowl shoved into your hands as well as a warm wrapped loaf of homemade bread; and she’s ushering you out the door. Soft words of encouragement and excitement leave her, vague mentions of so handsome good for you, and take your time sweetheart your father will live. Your father’s grumbling fades as the door shuts behind you, and you’re then faced with the reality that you’re about to have dinner with a (handsome) complete stranger. The cold autumn air bites your cheeks, and you steel yourself. 

 It’s just dinner. You’re just neighbors having dinner.

 You open the passenger door once again, and Gojo’s slightly slackened frame straightens immediately. His features turn bright, and despite him waiting for you in your driveway; he was still happy that you actually came back out. He doesn’t waste time with useless greetings, he just makes sure you’re buckled in and pulls away. It’s begun to snow again, the fat clusters tap against the windshield filling the silence. You’re undeniably excited, your frame practically buzzes with the idea of a new friend. Friends, yeah right. You were having a hard time admitting to yourself the real attraction you were starting to feel for him.

 Gojo glances at you when he’s pulling back into his property. Once parked his eyes find themselves lingering on your thighs as they subconsciously rub together. His crystalline hues meet your own and his tongue darts out to wet his lips. His mouth had suddenly gone dry. You both try not to awkwardly clamber out, but you notice that he seems just as stiff as you are. He hadn’t bothered to lock his door, when he opens it for you he tries not to appear too eager. You leave your shoes near the entryway after you kick the snow off of them and he follows suit. You linger by the threshold, clutching your container of soup. Gojo takes it from you, his fingers lightly brushing your own, and sets it on an island in the middle of his kitchen and dining room. He makes an excited hum when you hand him the bread as well. 

 Upon entry you’d noticed how cozy his home was. The living room greeted you at arrival, black rectangular picture frames hung in several areas. Among them were photos of family members or friends, some of Gojo himself with them. The same man with stretched ears was in quite a few, you noticed. Situated next to his grey couch was a photo in a silver oval frame of Gojo and some students, on what you assumed was a field day. They were all bright smiles and peace signs. A mug that read World’s Greatest Teacher was placed next to it. The dining and kitchen area was separated by partial walls and a marble island, the bottom cupboards had various Christmas washcloths hanging from the outside of them and winter themed placemats were on his dark oak dining table. He had one of those realistic trees that looked like the branches were brushed with snow; it was in the leftmost corner of the room, closest to the door. You could tell he started decorating, a box of ornaments in varying shapes, sizes, and colors sat unopened near it. Silver and gold tinsel were still perfectly wrapped in their packaging. The only thing on the large tree were warm twinkling rainbow lights.

 He steps close to you once more, and offers to take your coat. You thank him, shuffling the thick garment off. You don’t notice how his eyes linger on your chest for a little longer than they should have. The ribbing of your sweater accentuated the outline of your breasts, and now it was his turn to be distracted. He wanted you before and seeing the curves of your body for the first time didn’t help sate his desire. It certainly didn’t help his case when you seemed to push your breasts out more as you held your hands in nervousness behind your back. Truth be told the only thing on your mind was how sticky you felt in that jacket. It was hot in your house as well as his car with the thick layers on and you began sweating. It was relieving not having it on anymore but your breasts under the warm sweater felt suffocated and the thing you wanted most was to just take your damned top off. Your uncomfortable shifting only brought more attention to them, yet you still didn’t pick up on Gojo’s virgin-like ogling. Eyes glued to one thing only: your tits.

 “Well we better eat it while it’s hot.” His deep voice cuts through the suddenly thickened air, startling you. You nod, following him to the dining area. He doesn’t bother taking any of his own bowls out of the cupboards, choosing to instead grab a couple of spoons to save time on dishes. You can respect that, you hated doing the dishes.

 Rather than being any more nervous, you decide that the sound of clinking silverware and the news playing on his television as white noise isn’t so bad. Small talk wasn’t something you excelled in. Starting a conversation was a hurdle in itself, but maintaining a steady flow while keeping the interest of the other person was overwhelming. As a result of your awkward mannerisms and ‘lack of interest’ your relationships were few and far between. The only person that seemed to bask in your silence was Eve, who could chatter away to no end. When it struck you that Gojo didn’t seem to have the desire to make you talk, it oddly comforted you. You’d always felt pressured to fill the empty space and you usually fell short of any fulfilling interaction. 

 Eating with your neighbor might not be so bad if it stayed just like this.

 Gojo clears his throat. “Your mother is a great cook.”

 “Yea, she is.”

 “She has your dad or one of the kids run me over some dinner or a snack almost every night.” He remarks, gesturing towards the island behind you. You turn around and spot a couple bags of various snacks that you could always find in your own cupboard. At the center of the island was a dish with three cheesecake slices tucked inside. You loved your mother’s cheesecake. “She made that a couple days ago, I’ve been too busy to indulge.” He pouts, going over to grab you both a slice. “I have a bit of a sweet tooth and hardly any time for myself so she’s always saving the day.” You accept the slice, eager to sate your own craving.

 “She’s pretty great, and her cheesecake is the best.” He hums in agreement, a cozy silence falls into place once more. 

 While initially dinner together was a little awkward, all of Gojo’s aforementioned confidence seemingly disappeared; eventually conversation picked up. While usually you were slow to open up, Gojo had a way of getting you to talk without trying. You’d learned that he was quite the nerd, and when it felt like conversation was running short he would bring up a game he liked to play during his free time. A book he’d read recently. An anime one of his students recommended. With dinner having been finished long ago, you’d both gravitated to his couch.

Maybe I should head out, it’s gettin’ pretty nasty out there…

No, no, it’s freezing. Why don’t you wait a little while, at least for the snow to let up?

Reruns of old Christmas specials played in the background on his wall mounted television. Glasses of red wine reflected the flames from the fireplace underneath it. Small talk about work, college, short term aspirations; morphed into steady laughter and stories from your childhood. The longer you spent on it the more you realized his sofa was just too comfortable. The atmosphere was quite intimate, you were clueless to the fact that it was deliberate. Gojo hadn’t planned on having you over so soon, it wasn’t his fault that he was thrown off a bit. Naturally, he’d set things into motion the way they should be throughout the evening. He had dimmed the lights over the course of the night, letting his fireplace illuminate his living area. A consequence free show played as a source of casual entertainment. Gojo casually lit a holiday pine scented candle in the kitchen while you had been enjoying dessert, and when things shifted to the living room he lit a sage scent that complimented it perfectly. He, of course, wouldn’t be a good host without providing refreshments. His finest and most expensive wine, a sparkling palate cleanser that wasn’t too sweet, wrapped foreign chocolates, and dried fruit were neatly placed on his coffee table in front of the sofa. He had you right where he wanted you.

 “Oh I didn’t realize you moved from there! I have a couple o’ buddies around that area.” his features brighten after learning where you moved from.

 “Ya don’t say! Small word.”

 You could feel as the minutes shifted into an hour, and then an hour and a half; your hesitancy to leave grew more and more. As your stories became more intimate, the proximity between you both shortened. While you weren’t put off by how close he was, it was something you were hyper aware of. Your elbows brushed lightly against one another on the back of the couch as he mirrored the way your head rested against your hand. If someone had peaked in on you both, they might have mistaken you for good friends or partners, the laughter and conversation flowing freely between you both. The alcohol in your system had your core feeling warm, your cheeks rosy, and your lips loose. He was practically entranced by you as you explained how your recent ex tore your heart to shreds.

 “Eve ended up flying up there for a weekend and she helped me throw his stuff out. Couldn’t just throw my mattress out though, but I guess it’s fine since I moved back here in the end.” You reach over to the coffee table for your glass of wine, taking a sip. An amused snort leaves your mouth while you watch on the tv a stop-motion reindeer jump around in glee at his crush admitting that she thought he was cute.

 “I can’t believe he cheated on you, in your own bed.” He remarks, shaking his head with a click of his tongue. Gojo can’t take his eyes off of your form, soaking in the subtlety of your enjoyment.

 “Ugh, I know! He couldn’t even make me cum in it, what made him think he could get her to?” The wine seemed to remove your filter. Despite the both of you being equally surprised by your words it brings bubbling laughter up from your stomachs. Gojo laughs in further disbelief; you laugh at your own expense.

 “Oh you poor thing,” his sympathetic coo is bordering on patronizing, “I bet I could make you cum.” The wine seemed to remove his filter as well. He had mumbled it, you don’t think he even meant for those words to leave his stream of consciousness. There’s mirth swirling inside of his piercing gaze, and something else that you can’t quite place.

 “I’m sorry?” Your laughter teeters off, and Gojo decides that he might as well just go for it.

 “How ‘bout it? Wanna fool around?” He wraps his hand around yours, and takes the wine glass from you. When he sets it aside, your breath hitches in your throat. His delicate features were tipsily flushed, much like your own. And to your absolute horror: he sure was handsome.

 “I don’t know you.” Your statement from earlier bubbles up and escapes from your throat before you can even think of stopping it. Yet you lean in closer, your fingers move from being dropped into your lap, to grazing the surface of the cushion between the both of you. He places his own hand to just barely ghost across the tips of His fingers against yours.

 “Well, we’ve met.“ he holds up his free hand, and ticks away at his fingers, “Had dinner. And now we’ve shared some drinks. I’d say we’ve been on a couple o’ dates by now.” You find yourself leaning back as he leans into you further. Fingers itching to reach out for him.

 “I’m not comfortable sleeping with you tonight.” Tonight? Does that mean it was possible in the future? Truth be told, his offer was tempting, you just felt shameful having sweat so much. You don’t miss the way his features light up with excitement, however. You both crawl backwards, and his forearms rest on either side of your head, his nose barely brushing against yours. He’d lost that dumb pair of shades two wine glasses ago, wanting to see you without any obstructions. His lips almost graze your own as he speaks.

 “We don’t have to have sex.” Right, he said he wanted to fool around. You hum, biting your lip lightly in thought. 

 “Gojo I-“

 “Satoru.” He corrects, ocean blue eyes boring into your own hazy ones.

 “I really need to shower, I sweat on the way over here, I showered earlier but I’d feel terrible-“ He’s nodding along, not seeming to care for your (very valid) excuses. They’re falling on deaf ears, because why were you wrapping around his neck? Why was he so damn mesmerizing? You felt stupid for a brief moment, and figured it didn’t actually matter if you just kissed him. So you did. It was a light peck at first, your eyes flutter closed, and he reciprocates with a peck of his own. One turns into two, two turns into three, three shifts into a deeper kiss. You make a noise in the back of your throat, or was that him? Your fingers tangle into his snowy locks, as he settles his weight between your legs. Your thighs grip his hips and it’s definitely him that groans. You weren’t ever really into kissing, it repulsed you when it went on for too long. But as Gojo experimentally swiveled his hips into yours, the slight friction eliciting a sultry moan, you think to yourself that you don’t actually mind it. Not with him at least. His tongue snakes its way into your mouth, and as it dances with your own it almost hypnotizes you. He pants in between kisses, growing more eager and frustrated with every passing moment that he grinds into you or sucks on your lips and your tongue. It grows sloppier, he eventually switches from your lips to kissing around them. Drool gathers around the edges, and he eagerly laps it up, but this only worsens the mess. He kisses down your mouth, your chin, your jaw, your neck. It’s fiery, hotter than the flames flickering across the room, you think. 

 As you become uncomfortable with the heat, you squirm to pull your shirt off. He pulls back, going to remove his clothes as well. The obvious tent in his pants causes your fingers to stutter with the button on your own bottoms. The large imprint only grows larger as his pants are removed and reveals a monster confined behind black briefs. You gulp and stand up to shimmy your pants off, walking away to put your clothes somewhere you could easily find them. You were stalling as your nerves built up again. Were you going to have to stick that huge thing into your mouth? He’s oblivious to your inner struggle, making himself comfortable on the couch below you. He taps his thigh a couple of times, a wordless beckoning when he notices you staring at him. The short distance to him has you nervously clasp your hands behind your back. When you’re in front of him again, you drop to your knees. His blatant confusion almost immediately embarrasses you. Why did he look like that? Shame wells within your gut as you believe you’d made a mistake.

 “I’m sorry, did you not want me to suck you off?”

 He stares down at you, blanking on what to say. Of course he did, he was just hoping to make out some more first. A noise of consideration thrums in the back of his throat, and then suddenly he beams at you.

 “No actually; I’m gonna eat you out.” He flashes you a cheeky grin, his confidence from earlier returning. “Awkward question but I gotta ask, are you clean?”

 “Yes I am. Haven’t done anything since I last tested.” You tilt your head to the side. “But why would you wanna do that right now? Like I said, I sweat a lot earlier.”

 “…to get you off? Because it’ll be fun?”

 “Oh, are you sure?” Your hesitation is cute, and concerning. Rather than respond he sits up and wordlessly pulls you onto the couch so that you’re next to him. He lays you out gently, and your heart thrums. “I’m not sure if I’ll finish tonight. I’m really okay with just doing you. I wouldn’t want to put you through such a hassle.” You ramble in embarrassment, your shame at being so hard to sexually handle evident.

 Your previous partners were less than attentive. They’d usually moved on or given up after a few minutes. Suffice it to say you certainly hadn’t finished from any head you’d briefly received. You just couldn’t help the numb feeling you’d felt every time someone touched you intimately. Unbeknownst to you Gojo was not only competitive, he also loved a good challenge. There was a chance to be the best head you’d ever gotten, and the first to make you cum all in one go. You feel his breath travel from your clavicle, nibbling kisses that wander downward over your navel. Your shivering at the anticipation of his touch is not lost on him. 

 “Gotta be insane to think that I’m not gonna eat this pussy tonight.” As he said that, he finally spread your legs for him. Your knees touch the couch at your side. His hands are flush against the swell of your thighs; holding them in place. Gojo peppers the ghost of short and soft pecks against your clothed sensitivity. You try to resist the urge to buck up, but at your subtle movement he firmly buries his face against the fabric. It’s a silent encouragement to do what you want. You aren’t used to it, and in that moment you are so grateful that you had the foresight to match your panties with your bra. He continues to kiss the same area, they deepen with each one. He could sense your lack of confidence, your inexperience, and he was perfectly okay with taking the lead. You’re unsure when he does it, but your panties are suddenly pulled to the side. The wet muscle that was buried in your mouth earlier finds itself dancing with your lower lips this time. There was a tense silence in the room, save for the crackling of flames in his fireplace, but as he starts to work you; your breath audibly hitches. You squeeze your eyes shut, and the pad of his tongue runs up and down from your twitching hole to your buzzing clit. It’s almost terrifying, your hands go to your mouth to suppress the noises begging for an escape. You can’t help but pant as his tongue continues to torment you. He applies just the right amount of pressure, soft lapping at your clit so wet and noisy.

 “Ngh.” Your back arches, he applies just a little more pressure up and down your slit before sucking on your clit. It’s hypnotizing but you find yourself becoming overwhelmed. One of your hands snakes into his cloudy tresses, “Wait, Gojo, I’m getting scared.” Your voice comes out high pitched and whiny, it’s the first thing you’ve said since he laid you out. He moans against you upon hearing you, “This is scaring me a little, can you slow down?” The breathlessness in your voice makes the hard-on behind his briefs throb almost painfully.

 “Call me Satoru, sweetheart.” He kisses your clit then, having missed feeling the hard nub against his soft lips. “Of course I can slow down, whatever you want.” He doesn’t sound put off, he wasn’t complaining about his jaw, he wasn’t just whipping his dick out. Yet you can’t help but feel embarrassed and like you’re inconveniencing him. With your inexperience taking over you mumble and push his face back, “I’m sorry I’ve never really done this for so long before, if you want we can switch.” He pouts at the feeling of your warm hand holding him in place.

 “What do you mean ‘so long’ it’s barely been ten minutes.” He’s puffing out a playful laugh, and then weaving his arms around your thighs. Hugging them almost to bring your arousal closer to his face, he gently rubs the plush of them as he starts to gently lap at your slit again. You tasted amazing, he had to focus on not cumming in his pants as soon as he was met with your dripping sex. You were paranoid for nothing, Gojo couldn’t get enough of you.

 “Gonna keep going until you cum, we can stay here the whole night for all I care.”

 “I’ve never finished like this before.” You admit, hiding your face behind your hands. It’s like the embarrassment can’t leave your body. His ministrations don’t stop, and they start to grow in intensity at your words. You’d been spurring him on whether you had meant to or not. 

 “Shouldn’t have told me that sweetheart, now we’re really gonna be here all night.”

 “Gojo, I can’t stay here all-“

 “Satoru.“ The deepening of his voice is just barely a growl, and your hips buck in response. 

 You suddenly yelp, because instead of feeling his tongue enter you; you feel him shift so that one of his hands is positioned at your entrance. A warm digit probes the outside of it, not entering but teasing you. Your thighs clench around his head and he groans at this. “Fuck yeah, you want it?”

 “I, I don’t know. Your fingers are so long.” You sound like you’re on the verge of tears, and if you were being truthful you probably did want it. You were absentmindedly grinding your hips, swiveling them into his prodding touch.

 “You think my fingers are long? Wait till you see my dick.” His teeth playfully nibble at your thighs while he waits for your permission. You inhale sharply, still trying to suppress the noises of pleasure he so desperately wanted you to let out.

 “A little is fine, but go slow please. It’s been a long time.” Your soft and curious gaze pierced his own, and he knows he’s in for it. You’re gonna be the death of him.

 He tuts, “I don’t know.~ It doesn’t sound like you want it bad enough.” His finger betrays him, and it shallowly teases your entrance. Labored puffs of air leave your mouth at this. Your eyebrows pull together and he could cum on the spot just by the sight of you. There’s an almost magnetic push and pull between you both. As your hips continue to gyrate, furthering in intensity as your frustration grows; he’s barely teasing you and pulling himself in the opposite direction just to lead you on. Never fully leaving you, remaining firm in just grazing. Occasionally a faint whimper will escape you, and he rewards you with pushing in just a fraction deeper each time. He was finding out that you didn’t have to try hard to get what you wanted from him. 

 “S…Satoru.” Just hearing those few syllables tumble from your trembling pout has his hips stuttering into the couch. He’d picked up a steady grind of his own while waiting for you to just give in to your desire. “I want it.” It’s barely audible and he makes an incredulous noise in the back of his throat.

 “Pardon?” He’s tugging your panties down, tucking the delicate purple lace into the cushion of his sectional. His breath ghosts over your sensitive nub, he can’t help but reward it with a sloppy kiss. You mewl almost instantly, the loudest you’d been all night. “Yeah, you got somethin’ you wanna say to me?”

 “I want it.” You sound so sure now, your cares finally departing from your conscience. What did this matter in the end? You huff, caressing his face and he eagerly leans into your touch. He’s kissing your fingers, and peppering your wrist with his affection.

 “You want it bad?” He’s lifting your hips just enough to provide himself with better access to your dripping folds. The sight of him through your half-lidded eyes has you panting once more. You eagerly nod, continuing to caress his face and massage his scalp.

 “Nnmmh!” Your throat draws out sickeningly sweet whimpers once he’d begun his descent upon your flower once again. This time with added vigor, and a delicious friction you’d never felt before. His experimental kitten licks from earlier evolving into deep drags of his tongue against each and every dip. With his glossy lips on your clit, they alternate between harsh sucking and firm circular motions. He still doesn’t finger you, your fear and hesitation from earlier finally blooms into a deep desire for more. “Satoru.” You mewl, the drag of your voice heavenly, the breathy pitch sardonically kissing his senses.

 “Yeah, baby?” He’s removed himself from you with an obscene pop from your clit, his mouth and chin coated in a glossy sheen of your slick and his saliva. You’d been grinding against him harder, searching for more friction.

 “I want your fingers in me so bad, Satoru.” You’re begging at this point, pulling him up briefly to kiss him in the hopes of sweetening him up. You’re entangling tongues, he’s dragging his clothed erection dangerously across your weeping petals. The sound of your mouths colliding and teeth mashing quickly fills the air once more. Gojo’s hot touch finds itself attached to your breasts, and he wastes no time finally ripping that god forsaken bra off. Your breasts spill out of the cups, and two twinkling pieces of jewelry flirt with him at eye level. He’d instantly pulled away from the intensity of your lip lock as soon as your pierced nipples had made contact with the air. His large hands find purchase on your plush chest and you push into his touch. The gentle massage he gives you almost relaxes you more than it arouses you. The friction from his hips against yours, his soft suckling on your neck, and the fervent kneading of your breasts makes you lightheaded in the most tantalizing way. He’s finally snaking his way back down to your core, kissing along that same fiery path. He doesn’t say anything, too entranced by your every movement. A single digit almost immediately bullies its way past your resistance. The inside of you is tight, warm, and so obnoxiously wet. His finger slid in so easily thanks to the abundance of your natural lubrication. You finally moan out, arching once again into the pleasure he gives you. He’s working you, in and out, in and out. Licking and sucking up and down from your entrance right back to your most sensitive bundle of nerves. Your toes begin to curl, you’d never felt this electric before. Your hips rock yourself against his face, and you give in to the pleasure. Allowing yourself to close your eyes, run your fingers through his silky hair.

 “This pussy tastes so good, sweetheart.” Your absent nod in his direction has him biting back a snicker. You’re lost in the pleasure but he wants you to do more than this. He wants you to feel so much more. He wants you desperately. His pace picks up in intensity, lapping at your clit and steadily thrusting two fingers into you. The addition of another digit has you immediately blanching.

 “Ah, r’there!” They thrum against your sponge-y sensitivity, “ah, ah, ah! So good!~” And while your moaning doesn’t grow in pitch, you are hardly being loud, your vocalized praise encourages him. Targeting your g-spot he nibbles and suckles on your clit relentlessly. His wrist is escaping you fast, pounding back into you harder each time. Your honey squelches and it fills the room drowning out the noise from his crackling fireplace. You don’t notice him reach over to shut the specials you’d previously been watching off. You also don’t notice the way he occasionally pulls his mouth away from you to take in the intensity of your being in the throes of pleasure. He was determined to get you off. As he’s working back into another rhythm with the intent to finish you, he hits that hot spot over and over again. “Satoru~ ngh.” Your head is thrashing back and forth, “Satoru…is t’much I feel weird, baby, oh- slow down.”

 “Fuck, what did you just call me?” He suddenly stops his ministrations and you almost sob in frustration as your teetering peak is pulled away from you. You stare at him, eyes fogged from your heat and confusion. Didn’t he want you to call him by his first name? He kisses you then, kicking off his briefs. It’s more intense than earlier, if that were even possible. He’s between your legs and you feel something smooth prod at your slippery entrance.

 “B..baby?”

 “Shit, call me that from now on, sweet girl.” His words are punctuated by a shallow swing of his hips against you, length sliding against your thigh. He’s staring into your eyes, they’re blown and dark to an animalistic degree; his hair is disheveled into beautiful chaos by your own hands. He’s intimidating to say the least, and yet something about him was eagerly welcoming you in. If Santa existed then you’d hoped you would see Satoru wrapped under your tree for Christmas. By gods was he beautiful.

 “Who’s making you feel good, baby?”

 “Satoru is?” Your questioning tone has him rasping out a humorous gasp between a sloppy kiss and he’s moaning into the next one.

 “Fuck yeah, call out to me.” He’s massaging the fat of your breasts, running his fingers along your sides soothingly, squeezing along the plush of your tummy, kissing your face, your lips, your neck. Finally he’s back to persistently penetrating your gummy insides. The slick walls can’t decide whether to suck him up or push him out, and his dick thrums with want at the thought of feeling you around him. Satoru sits on his haunches, your lower half thrown over his own, and if he moved even a little bit he could insert himself into you if he was so inclined. Instead, he’s watching you writhe under his touch, fingering you without a care for your overstimulation. Rubbing his spare hand across your clit, skilled digits flat as they rub impossibly fast against it.

 “Mmm, ha,” you pant, tears pricking the corner of your eyes, “ah wait!” The pounding motion of his fingers going in and out of you grows into that intensity once again. Pounding. Pounding and pounding as he’s rubbing your sensitive bud with no sign of letting up. “Satoru please! Something weird is happening. Ungh!” Your voice peaks almost pathetically, and he’s laughing at you. Your writhing is amusing and so attractive to him he doesn’t know if he should be euphoric or in disbelief.

 “Haha, look at you! You said you wouldn’t cum! You’re almost there aren’t you? You wanna cum, Miss?” He’s throbbing against your backside, sliding in any way he can against you. Desperate for sweet friction but determined to ensure that this isn’t about him. Wet beads of precum staining the skin where the head of his member slides freely. “Cum for me? Don’ be scared you’re just cummin’. Are you tellin’ me you’ve never felt this before?” You shake your head profusely, and grab his wrist to find purchase. He doesn’t stop, his pounding almost bruising. Finally his fingers speed up just right against your clit and the small shriek that tumbles past your sobbing makes him choke out an obscenely loud moan. It sounds pornographic and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was the one being brutally pleasured. Despite barely any stimulation he was clearly as fucked out as you were, and he practically cums when a massive wave of sparkling slick splatters across his abdomen. It paints his wrist, his abs, his face, your thighs. Fat tears fall from your drunk eyes and he’s moaning again, “oh fuck-“ sorry, sorry, sorry, “you just squirted on me!” He’s laughing out loud, and your embarrassment makes you want to run away. That hasn’t happened before, I’m sorry! Gojo lays you down once again, his fingers barely leave your tight cavern.

 “I’ve never done that before.” Your pathetic whining from embarrassment nearly sends him over the edge, “oh my god I’m so sorry!”

 “No, no, no, awe, baby.” He’s cooing, kissing you once again, “uh uh, no apologizing, that was so sexy I almost came just from the sight of it.” you’re moaning some more at his soothing.

 “It was good, baby? 

 “So good, sweetheart.” his fingers slow to a stop. He brings them to his lips, gingerly

sucking them clean. His vulgar display has you clench around nothing. Satoru then positions his erection flush against your lower lips.

 “Wait, Satoru, I’ve never...” Your voice trails off and he sucks in a sharp breath eyes practically rolling to the back of his skull as he waits for you to finish your sentence, “I haven’t gone all the way.” You mewl when he pulls away to smack his hardness across the sputtering wetness.

 “Shit I’m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum.” He’s panting, and the state of his disheveled hair and flushed cheeks brings a pang to your heart. “I wasn’t gonna put it in, can I just feel you?” He licks the tears that escape from your eyes, and sucks on your desperate lips. His own desperation manifested in the form of shallow ruts against your overstimulated pussy. You nod, spreading your legs to welcome him further into your embrace. He tries not to let surprise take over his features as you reach out your hand to lay flat over his sliding prick. You apply pressure, and the both of you groan as a result. With you pressing his throbbing erection against your plushy folds as he slides back and forth it provides a sweet relief he’d been desperately needing. He was shameless in voicing his noises of pleasure, he was so sensitive considering it’d been a long time for him as well. Your noisy slick sloshing and creating a mess of you both fills the room. “God, this pussy is the best. So good baby.” His rutting picks up in pace, he tenderly holds your face just to kiss you hard. You’re both moaning into each other, noises filling his space so naturally.

 Slip and slide.

 Slipping and sliding.

 Your lower halves dance with each other so agonizingly, and you find yourself pushing him back to grind yourself on him. “Satoru I’m close again, ah.” Your head is thrown back, it’s as if you’re a siren calling out to him and he can’t keep his eyes off of you. Your features are cast in the dazzling lights of his tree. “Ah, ngh, ah!” You lean down, hands splayed across his pale chest, breasts scrunching together and he almost thrusts into you. He grabs your thighs, rocking you harder onto him. His groaning and grunting as your sweat and juices flow freely between you makes your slippery descent all the more intense. It’s sudden, your orgasm wracks through your entire body, “oh fuck!” You lean down to desperately kiss him, and he finds it adorable. You’re so cute and as he’s swiveling his hips upwards to chase his own high he lets you know.

 “So cute baby, so good for me. Cum all over me that’s right, I’m gonna cum too.” You were an affectionate and kissy partner, everything he’d ever wanted.

 “Cum for me,” you kiss him again, sucking on his bottom lip and then you bite it hard drawing back with a pop, “cum for me, baby.” He’s about to, his eyes roll back into his skull, but before he can you’re pulling away and making your way down his figure this time. You lick a thick stripe of saliva from his heavy balls all the way up to the tip of his swollen prick. You take him in easily, mouth being stuffed impossibly full. You’d been wanting this all night, to feel him down the back of your throat.

 Gojo was big, and you knew there was no way you’d be able to fit all of him into your mouth. That certainly didn’t stop you from trying, and as you’re sputtering and choking on him he gasps in encouragement. He’s seeing stars regardless, tensing to keep from spilling down your throat immediately. He steals a glance at your bobbing head, your timid freshly manicured fingers wrapped around the base of his cock and pumping what your mouth can’t take. It’s too much, and with only a couple measly thrusts he’s spilling into your mouth.

 “What are you an angel?!” He’s gasping, moaning like a porn star once again. Although you didn’t know much about him, Gojo being loud in bed somehow just made sense. “Shit take it, take it, take it.” He’s fucking his seed into your mouth, you attempt to breathe heavily through your nose and suppress as many gagging noises as you can. It’s sloppy, and bubbling past your lips and Gojo can’t stop himself. Drunk on you, drunk on the feeling of your lips; nether and otherwise against his dick. “Fuck I think I love you baby, holy shit you’re the best.” He’s rambling and you try not to let his fucked out confession freak you out. Rather than dwell on his pillow talk, you make a show of swallowing his load, sticking your tongue out once you’ve finished. “Shit come here, gimme a kiss sweetheart.” He’s grabbing you by the shoulders, pulling you to straddle him. You lean in to kiss him, the intensity from your orgasm fizzling out as you languidly rub your swollen lips together. You taste bitter and sweet at the same time, an almost dangerous combination for Satoru. The kiss you both share is dizzying, raw lips drawing together just to keep feeling each other. He sucks on your tongue and fondles your breasts some more, his hands having felt lonely without you in them. You think to yourself that if he did love you after one night of fooling around that you might be okay with it. 

 “Did you really enjoy it, Satoru?” You ask, but he doesn’t even need to answer. Not when he is gazing back at you with half lidded eyes, a lazy smile, sloppy hair, and a flushed chest, neck, and face. His lithe hands rub your sides in comfort, your shoulders in appreciation, your hips in adoration.

 “Gimme another kiss, sweetheart.” And you do, with no hesitation. It’s languid, romantic even. “Shit, wanna go again?”

 “I have to go home, Satoru, next time though.” His dumb smile has you bashfully looking away. When he reaches his pinky out in front of you, you grasp it.

 “Promise?”

 “Promise.” There would be a next time? He’s stupidly elated just thinking about such a promise. You’re grinning to yourself, without realizing it you stroke his hand soothingly. Fingers intertwining, there’s another feeling between the both of you blossoming.

 “So, about your Christmas plans?”

❄️

Satoru offered to give you a ride home once you’d both sobered up and you happily accepted. Before leaving, he was attentive, making sure your body was okay, that you weren’t sore anywhere. Tentative fingers brushed over your body with a dampened and warm washcloth, cleaning any mess that was made. He located your discarded clothes, handing them to you minus the pair of panties you came with. They were conveniently misplaced but your brain was so foggy that you didn’t care. He was clearly the best sexual partner you’d ever had, and you hoped that the good chemistry would be a constant among the both of you.

 The drive back was light, there wasn’t an awkward atmosphere, rather he seemed to be in a great mood and it rubbed off on you. You’re looking out the window, rosy cheeks scrunched into a giddy smile. His hand rested on your thigh, a caring thumb ran soothing circles in place. It was snowing again, the tiny flakes melted as they landed on the window. When you pull into your driveway for the final time, your hand meets his own where it rested.

 “I had a really good time.” you admit, although it was rather obvious. You sound hesitant like you weren’t sure how he would act around you now that everything was said and done. He didn’t like it. He brings your laced fingers up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles as he holds it against his cheek. 

 “We could have a better time tomorrow.” You smile and look away again.

 “I don’t know…” but you don’t pull your hand away, instead you bring yourself closer to him. You peer at him, biting your bottom lip nervously. “Isn’t that too soon?”

 “Never.” 

 “Hmmm…” you look at your house. The lights are off inside, your rooms window is at the front of the house on the second floor and you can see that it’s still on. You roll your eyes fondly, of course Eve was still awake. She confirms that by peeking her head out of your curtain, she spots Gojo’s car and immediately shuts it. “Well, I’d love to.”

 “Then I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart.” He kisses your hand again and you think to yourself that you wished he would just kiss you again. As if reading your mind he gently cups your face and brings you in for one. It’s languid, and while it wasn’t meant to be deep it naturally evolved into something bordering on intense. He can’t get enough of you, his insatiable lips ravage yours and you crawl into his lap across the way. He leans his seat back, pleased with the steamy development, and his hands go from caressing your face to traveling down your back and finally down to grope the plump of your backside. You whimper, but continue the lip lock. Your tongue experimentally traces his bottom lip and he groans, opening up for you to explore him again. He’s rutting his hips up, it isn’t serious by any means he had no actual desire to take it any further than that. You grind down on him, your movement turning sloppy. Before things can blossom into anything else, you pull away, a string of saliva snapping between the both of you. His hands are still on your ass, and yours are in his hair. He’s flushed, panting, and you can’t help but kiss him again. Your neediness makes him laugh but reciprocates all the same. He was so messy but the way he handled you was absolute perfection. You break apart, finally, and you look behind you to make sure no one else is around. Paranoid your family might see you.

 “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You finally say, departing from his warmth painfully. You leave then, closing his car door gently as you do. You look behind you and wave, he’s smiling while resting his chin on his toned arms.. They’re folded over his steering wheel while he watches you go inside. He waves back, a little shake of his wrist and you finally disappear into the warmth of your home. The walk of shame (at a less than appropriate hour) was surprisingly not as bad as it could have been. No one is up to catch you other than your mother in the kitchen, she’d gotten up for a midnight snack and met you while you were putting the dishes in the sink. They’d be tomorrow's problem. 

 “How was it dear?” She asks gently, sliding a glass of hot chocolate your way.

 “Good, we watched some Christmas specials over dinner and talked for a bit.” you know that it shouldn’t have taken you this long to get back, and she knows that too, but she smiles and nods along.

 “That sounds wonderful, we’ll invite him over next time.”

 “How about tomorrow?”

 “I’m sure he’d love that.” You smile back at her, you would love that too. You sip your cocoa until it’s gone, chatting with your mother about unimportant things. She retires before you do, and you quietly make your way up to your room. Your creaking footsteps cause you to cringe, and as soon as you’re twisting the doorknob your friend jumps up from her spot on your bed.

 “Fucking finally, oh my god tell me everything!”

a/n: erm would y'all let gojo go down on u the first day u met him?

◼️yes

◼️definitely

◼️absolutely

i scattered different references to a few christmas songs so i hope y’all catch em :3 merry xmas and happy holidays hope y'all enjoyed ~🐇🎄❄️

header by @strangergraphics 🖤

[silly-monkies]

Most of my current favorites are all possibl mentally unstable psychopaths what makes you think my previous favs have a chance o<-<

1. Yes they have to fight, 2. Tell me who’s fighting who in the tags! (I’ll add the most ridiculous combos in a reblog)

[aquanutart]

I absolutely LOVE the Squirtle/Wartortle illustrations by kantaro in Pokemon 151!

The Squirtle jumping so joyfully from the rock into the ocean, the colors are STUNNING! I love the contrast of the Squirtle's aqua blue framed in the vivid orange sky, the soft bit of blue reflecting in its shell and its tail just catching the sun, how little and squishy its body looks as it launches itself towards the water with such tremendous excitement!

The lineless style of the background gives me the feel of a travel poster and I sense the tropical environment around it from the rocks and trees framing the corners, the waterfall splashing with as much energy as the Squirtle!

The layered blues on the surface of the water and the bubbles rising at the corner make me FEEL the liquid rising to meet the Squirtle--I can just feel how the next moment it's going to break through and be immersed in a cool island swim!

And the Wartortle running along the sunset beach, this is somehow everything I always imagined for Wartortle! I adore the way the rich purple melts into the warm red/orange sky, the matching purple clouds and shadows in the foreground, and how the dimming sunlight glows red on Wartortle's deep blues!

I love how the yellow and orange of the sky illuminate the lapping waves, I can just feel the gentle motion of the sea at dusk. The aqua color of the ocean matches Wartortle's ears and tail and sets off the red-orange sand, I just love how the colors are here!

Wartortle looks so round and squishy, I love its happiness as it goes frolicking through the shallows, chasing the bubbles caught in the setting sun! The shine and deep shadow on its shell give it an almost jewel texture like real tortoise shell; I love the silhouetted splash Wartortle leaves as it goes running across the shore. It's so full of energy and delight at the end of a gorgeous day! The colors in these are SO vivid and harmonized and the style is so cute and bursting with energy and joy. I just LOVE it (also Squirtle is my starter)

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

Trying to transliterate Leara's name into Quenya, and it somehow becomes, uh,

Lëarra

Which basically means "You Sealion!"

And I'm just, "Oh yes, this is That Sealion Woman, and she can breathe fire, as all sealions do."

If Leara, for any reason at all, needed an actual Quenya or Sindarin name for any fun Elvish shenanigans, we'll just use Calairie/Calearil, which is "Light of the Sea" in Quenya and Sindarin, and what Leara actually means.

[harrysfolklore]

misunderstood hero with a heart of gold - mv1

summary: max verstappen has never been one to read books, but everything changes when he comes across a pretty booktuber who describes him better than anyone else did before

word count: 8.2k + social media posts

folkie radio: another one of my babies finally sees the light of day 🥹 this fic is really special and i was lowkey gatekeeping it but i feel ready to share it, plss take care of it <3 i hope you like it

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Max Verstappen was bored.

It was late and he was alone in his hotel room. He had a race the following day and he knew better than staying up late. His team was already on his ass for sim racing at ungodly hours of the night when he had a race, but nevertheless, he was bored and not sleepy yet.

He scrolled through his phone, not really paying attention to what popped up on his Instagram feed, Tiktok for you page or Twitter timeline.

After a few minutes, his finger landed on the YouTube app, one that he barely used if he was completely honest, but for some reason he never deleted it.

A bunch of videos showed up on his main page, most of them about F1, gaming, fitness or cats. He scrolled through the thumbnails absentmindedly until one title caught his eye: "Formula 1 Drivers as Romance Book Character Tropes."

Max had no idea how that video ended up in his suggestions page. He wasn't much of a reader—he had only read two books in his entire life, for crying out loud— but curiosity got the better of him. He clicked on the video.

The screen shifted to a bright and lively setup, where a young woman with vibrant energy and a contagious smile greeted her viewers. "Hey everyone! Welcome back to my channel. Today, we have a fun video where I'll be pairing Formula 1 drivers with romance book tropes!"

Max found himself smiling for some reason, he thought she was really engaging and funny — and really pretty—. He leaned back against his pillows, more intrigued by the second.

"As some of you might already know, books are not my only passion, I'm also a huge Formula 1 fan since I was a little kid thanks to my dad, so I thought it would be fun to do a little crossover of my two obsessions."

Max grinned again, finding himself oddly invested in this unexpected combination of romance literature and Formula 1. Or maybe just mesmerized by the pretty girl who was talking on his screen.

"Let's begin with Mercedes," she said, clapping her hands together, "Lewis Hamilton is definitely our 'Charming Prince Charming.' He's got the looks, the talent, and that air of royalty about him."

Max chuckled, thinking it was a fitting description for his rival.

"Now for George Russell," she continued, "I'm going with 'The Boy Next Door Who Grew Up Hot.' I mean, have you seen his glow-up?"

Max chuckled again, nodding in agreement. George had indeed transformed quite a bit since his Williams days.

"Moving on to Ferrari," she continued enthusiastically. Max wondered if that was her favorite team on the grid, "Charles Leclerc is our classic 'Childhood Best Friend You've Always Had a Crush On.' He's got that sweet, familiar charm, but with a spark that makes your heart race every time you see him."

Max raised an eyebrow, surprised by the change in description. He had to admit, it fit Charles quite well.

"And for Carlos Sainz," she paused dramatically, "he's either our 'Older Brother's Best Friend' or the 'Bad Guy Who's Mean to Everyone but His Sweetheart', just think about it, he's got that rugged exterior, but you just know he's a total sweetheart deep down."

Max laughed, realizing she had Carlos pegged perfectly. He watched with growing interest as she continued.

"Now, let's talk about McLaren," she said with a sparkle in her eye. "Lando Norris is our 'Adorkable Comedian Who Steals Your Heart.' He's funny, relatable, and has a way of making you fall for him before you even realize it," Max grinned at the description of his good friend, "And Oscar Piastri... he's 'The Shy Genius.' Quiet, reserved, but incredibly talented and intelligent. He might not be the loudest in the room, but he's someone you'd definitely want on your side."

Max nodded in agreement, thinking of how Oscar had impressed everyone since joining McLaren. She continued pairing each driver with a character trope, she described Daniel as the "Life of the Party with a Sensitive Soul," highlighting his infectious energy and hidden depths. Pierre was dubbed the "Resilient Underdog," emphasizing his ability to bounce back from setbacks. Yuki was described as the "Fiery Spitfire with a Soft Center" and Logan was labeled the "Rookie with Untapped Potential," suggesting a character arc of growth and discovery.

With each driver's description, Max's anticipation grew. He found himself eagerly awaiting his own characterization, both curious and slightly apprehensive about how the pretty girl with an obsession with books and Formula 1 would describe him.

When she finally got to Red Bull, he sat up a little straighter, his interest piqued.

"Now for Sergio Perez," she said, "he's our 'Loyal Wingman Who Deserves His Own Happy Ending.' Always there to support, but with a story of his own waiting to be told."

Max nodded, thinking it was a pretty accurate description of his teammate.

"And finally, saved the best for last," she said, her eyes twinkling, "we have Max Verstappen."

Max held his breath, oddly nervous about how this stranger would categorize him.

"Max is our 'Misunderstood Hero with a Heart of Gold,'" she said with a warm smile. "Often perceived as cold or distant, but actually deeply caring and protective of those close to him. He's the type who shows his love through actions rather than words."

Max felt his cheeks warm significantly. This description caught him completely off guard. It wasn't the usual 'aggressive driver' or 'arrogant champion' narrative he was used to hearing. Instead, it felt... true. Uncomfortably true. He wasn't sure how to feel about being seen so accurately by a stranger.

As the video ended after she said her goodbyes, Max found himself staring at his phone screen, replaying her words in his mind, his thumb hovering over the comment section. He had never left a comment on a YouTube video before, but something about this one compelled him to break that habit.

After a moment's hesitation, he tapped the comment box and began typing, Once he was done, he paused, reading over his words. It felt strange, almost vulnerable, to acknowledge her characterization of him. But there was also something liberating about it. He added a thumbs-up emoji at the end and hit 'Post' before he could second-guess himself.

As Max set his phone down and settled into bed, a small smile played on his lips. He had a important race the following day, but all he wanted to think and dream about was the pretty stranger who had somehow seen through his carefully crafted public persona.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 10,725 others

f1gossip “I went to bed early last night. Just listened to the team’s orders, you know?”

Max Verstappen for media day today, however he left a comment on a YouTube video around 2:46 am 😭

view all comments

username1 HES SOOOOO

username2 the fact that he left a comment on a BOOKTUBER’S channel MAX VERSTAPPEN YOU DONT EVEN READ BOOKS 😭

username3 he looks so pretty tho

username4 MAX WE ALL SAW YOU

username5 max was actually checking which romance trope is him according to booktubers

username6 HES SO RANDOM

username7 max’s search history: lestappen as fictional couples

liked by username1, username2 and 102,438 others

ynreadsbooks in honor of max verstappen x3 world champion commenting on my latest video (which is insane to say out loud wtf) should i do another f1 themed video?? any suggestions?

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username1 YES QUEEN

username2 that max comment was so random but so real

username3 max verstappen, the man who has read two books in 27 years watching booktubers was not on my bingo card

username4 @/maxverstappen1 you favorite youtuber will do another video about you

username5 BOOKS WITH RACING THEMES

username6 books inspired by f1 circuits would be fun

username7 @/maxverstappen drop a suggestion

maxverstappen1 started following ynreadsbooks

liked by username1, username2 and 15,836 others

f1gossip Max Verstappen was seen outside of a bookshop in Monaco today !

view all comments

username1 BABYYYY

username2 max ??? bookshop ????

username3 WHAT SHIFTED

username4 he thought it was jimmyz

username5 HEELPP what is he doing there

username6 hello i work there. he arrived with a list of books in hand that he wanted, he bought around 15 action and fantasy books

↳ username1 FOR REAL???

↳ username2 max said book girl summer

↳ username3 this is so random

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

If someone had told Max that this year he would spend his summer break reading, he would've laughed at their faces. Yet here he was, lounging by the pool in his Monaco house, a book in his hands and a smile on his face.

As he turned the page of "The Martian," the latest sci-fi recommendation from YN, Max couldn't help but reflect on how different this summer break was.

Usually, his days off were filled with lavish yacht parties, exclusive clubs, or intense training sessions and hours of sim racing to stay sharp for the second half of the season. But now, he found himself eagerly devouring books and spending hours chatting with YN about plots, characters, and everything in between.

As the weeks passed, Max found himself growing increasingly close to YN, despite never having met her in person. Their text conversations flowed effortlessly, ranging from in-depth discussions about the books they were reading to playful banter about racing and life in general.

Max was surprised by how much he enjoyed her company, even in this digital form. Her wit, intelligence, and genuine interest in his thoughts beyond his racing persona were refreshing. He found himself sharing things he rarely discussed with others, and looking forward to her messages became a highlight of his day.

He also thought she was absolutely gorgeous.

As if on cue, his phone buzzed with a new message from her.

Max chuckled, about to reply when he heard the doorbell. He remembered Lando and Daniel were coming over for dinner. As he got up to let them in, he quickly typed a response, telling her that he would talk to her later.

"Well, well, well," Daniel's voice boomed as Max opened the door. "If it isn't the newly minted bookworm of Formula 1!"

Lando peered around Daniel's shoulder, "I half expected to find you wearing glasses and a sweater vest, mate."

"Very funny, guys. Come in," Max rolled his eyes as he stepped away from the door.

Ever since his friends noticed his brand new habit, they took it upon themselves to tease him whenever they could. As they made their way to the backyard, Daniel spotted the book on the lounger.

"The Martian?" he read, picking it up. "Isn't this a bit advanced for your reading level, Maxy?"

"Ha ha," Max deadpanned, snatching the book back. "It's actually really good. It's about this astronaut who gets stranded on Mars and has to use science and engineering to survive-"

"Whoa, whoa," Lando interrupted, holding up his hands. "Who are you and what have you done with Max Verstappen?"

Daniel draped an arm around Max's shoulders. "I think our boy here is trying to impress a certain bookish YouTuber. What was her name again? YN?"

Max felt his cheeks warm. "It's not like that. We just... talk about books and stuff."

"And stuff," Daniel repeated, wiggling his eyebrows. "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

Max rolled his eyes, trying to brush off their teasing. "Seriously, it's not like that. We just have a lot in common."

Daniel and Lando exchanged knowing glances before bursting into laughter.

"Sure, mate," Daniel said, patting Max on the back. "Whatever you say."

They settled by the pool, beers in hand, and started chatting about the upcoming races and their plans for the rest of the summer. Despite the playful ribbing, Max found himself genuinely enjoying their company. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed his friends.

As the evening wore on, the conversation eventually circled back to Max's books and his little friend on his phone.

"So, Max," Lando started, a mischievous glint in his eye, "have you color-coded your bookshelf yet? Or are you more of a chronological order kind of guy?"

"Nah, mate. I bet he organizes them by how many times YN has mentioned them," Daniel chimed in, "Top shelf is probably her favorites, right Maxy?"

Max felt his cheeks flush, but he couldn't help grinning. "You two are impossible."

"When are you finally going to meet her in person anyway?" Lando said, sipping from his beer.

Max shrugged nonchalantly, trying to hide the slight flutter in his chest. "I don't know. That's not something I've really thought about,"

He lied. In truth, the thought of meeting YN had crossed his mind countless times. The idea of finally seeing the girl who had captivated him with her intelligence, humor, and beauty made his heart race. He'd catch himself daydreaming about her smile, wondering if it was as warm and infectious in person as it seemed in her videos. But he wasn't ready to admit that to his friends just yet.

Lando and Daniel exchanged a look, clearly not buying Max's nonchalant act.

"Oh come on," Lando scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. "You expect us to believe that? You've been glued to your phone for weeks, mate."

"I bet he's already planned their first date," Daniel leaned in, "What'll it be, Max? A romantic book reading by candlelight? Or maybe a visit to the library?"

Max felt his cheeks heating up again. "It's not like that, guys. We're just friends."

"Friends who talk every day and have you blushing like a schoolgirl," Lando teased, nudging Max with his elbow.

"I do not blush like a schoolgirl," Max protested, knowing full well that his face was probably bright red by now.

"Sure, sure," Daniel said with a wink. "Just friends. So, have you at least thought about inviting her to a race? You know, show her what you do when you're not reading about Mars?"

"Why would I invite her to a race, that would be weird," Max protested again, "And she already knows what I do, she's a fan of the sport."

"Man, you're so stubborn sometimes," Lando rolled his eyes at him, "If you like this girl, why don't you invite her to a race? It could be a great way to finally meet in person."

"And who said that I liked her," once again, Max's defensive self came through.

Daniel and Lando shared an exasperated look before turning back to Max.

"Come on, mate," Daniel said, his tone gentler now. "It's pretty obvious. We've never seen you this invested in someone before. Not to mention, you're reading books voluntarily for the first time since... well, ever."

"It's written all over your face," Lando said, shaking his head. "You like her, and there's no shame in that. You light up every time your phone buzzes. It's kind of adorable, actually."

Max sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew his friends were right, but admitting it out loud felt like a big step. "Okay, fine. Maybe I do like her. But it's complicated, you know? We've never even met in person."

"That's exactly why you should invite her to a race," Lando insisted. "It's the perfect opportunity. She gets to see you in your element, and you get to finally meet face-to-face."

"Plus," Daniel added with a mischievous grin, "if things go well, you can always show her your trophy collection. I hear that's a great way to impress the ladies."

Max couldn't help but laugh at that. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Maybe," Daniel shrugged, "but I'm also right. What have you got to lose?"

Max pondered this for a moment. The idea of meeting YN in person both thrilled and terrified him. What if they didn't click in real life the way they did over text? But then again, what if they did?

"I'll think about it," Max finally conceded.

Lando and Daniel exchanged triumphant grins.

"That's our boy," Lando said, patting his back.

After a few more beers and food, Lando and Daniel left.

As the night deepened, Max found himself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. The conversation with Lando and Daniel kept replaying in his mind. His phone sat on the nightstand, silent but somehow still demanding his attention.

Max's thoughts raced. Should he text YN? Invite her to Zandvoort? The idea made his heart beat faster. He imagined seeing her in person for the first time, wondering if her smile would be as pretty as it was in her videos. But doubt crept in too. What if things were awkward? What if the chemistry they had online didn't translate to real life?

He rolled onto his side, eyeing his phone. The urge to reach out to her was strong, as it always was. Max realized that Lando and Daniel were right - he did like her. A lot. The thought of meeting her filled him with equal parts excitement and nervousness.

Taking a deep breath, Max grabbed his phone. Before he could overthink it, he started typing.

Hey YN, hope I'm not messaging too late. I was wondering if you'd like to come to the Dutch GP at Zandvoort? It's the first race after the summer break, and my home race. Thought it might be fun if you could make it.

He hit send before he could second-guess himself. The wait for her response felt eternal. When his phone finally buzzed, Max's heart leapt.

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username1 GIRL

username2 ARE YOU GOING WHERE I THINK YOU’RE GOING

username3 f1 x books this is literally me

username4 hot girls support max verstappen

username5 ahh if she’s going to the gp i’ll be so happy bc she’s a huge fan

username6 the way roles reversed and now max is his fan 😭

redbullracing We can’t wait 💙

↳ username1 REDBULL???

↳ username2 AHHH THEY PROBABLY INVITED HER

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As Max headed to Zandvoort Circuit for the Dutch Grand Prix, he felt the familiar weight of expectations settling on his shoulders.

The second half of the season loomed ahead, and the pressure to maintain his championship lead was on. He knew the team was counting on him to deliver strong results, especially at his home race where the orange-clad fans would be out in full force.

But amidst the pressure and responsibility, there was another emotion bubbling up inside him - a giddy excitement that he couldn't quite contain.

The thought of finally meeting YN in person after months of texts, calls, and shared book recommendations made his heart race in a way that had nothing to do with driving at a car at a very fast speed.

As he drove to the track, Max found himself smiling at random moments, his mind drifting to imagine what it would be like to see her smile in person, to hear her laugh without the filter of a phone call.

Max realized that for the first time in a long while, he was looking forward to a race weekend for reasons that extended beyond the track.

Unfortunately, his busy schedule kept them from meeting right away. Media commitments, team briefings, and practice sessions consumed his time, leaving him feeling frustrated and guilty for not being able to see her sooner. He sent her a quick message apologizing for the delay, promising they'd meet after qualifying.

As he made his way to the garage, a familiar voice called out behind him.

"Oi, Max! Ready for the big day?"

Max turned to see Daniel jogging up to him, his trademark grin in place.

"Yeah, should be a good quali," Max replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

Daniel raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't talking about qualifying, mate. Your special guest arrives today, right?"

Max felt his cheeks warm. "How did you even remember that?"

"Please," Daniel scoffed. "It's all you've been talking about for weeks. So, have you met her yet?"

"No, my schedule's been packed. We're supposed to meet after quali."

"Ah, saving the best for last, eh?" Daniel's grin widened, "Smart move. Nothing like the adrenaline of a good qualifying session to make a great first impression."

"Or to completely mess it up," Max muttered.

"Hey, none of that," Daniel clapped him on the shoulder. "You'll be fine. Just be yourself. She already likes you for who you are, remember?"

Max nodded, feeling a bit reassured. "Thanks, Dan."

With a deep breath, Max headed into the garage, Daniel's words echoing in his mind.

Qualifying went smoothly, with Max securing a front row start to the delight of the Dutch fans. The cheers of the home crowd were deafening as he climbed out of the car, but his mind was elsewhere.

After the post-qualifying interviews, Max sent YN a quick text letting her know that he was free now and she let him know that she was around the hospitality area.

As he walked towards there, Max spotted YN standing near one of the motorhomes, looking around with wide eyes. She hadn't seen him yet, and for a moment, Max just watched her, taking in the sight of the girl who had been on his mind for months now.

She was even more gorgeous in person than he had imagined.

Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she took in the bustling paddock around her. The way the sunlight caught her hair, the gentle curve of her smile as she observed everything with wonder - it all took Max's breath away.

He noticed little details he couldn't have seen through a screen: the way her eyes sparkled, the subtle freckles across her nose, the graceful way she moved as she looked around.

Taking a deep breath, Max walked over, his heart pounding. "YN?"

She turned, her face lighting up with a radiant smile that made Max's breath catch. "Max! Finally!"

They moved toward each other, and without hesitation, Max pulled her into a hug. The embrace felt natural, as if they'd done this a hundred times before. He was aware of how perfectly she fit in his arms, the subtle scent of her perfume, and the warmth of her body against his.

"It's so good to finally meet you," he murmured into her hair. "I'm so sorry it took so long, this weekend's been crazy."

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with understanding in her eyes. "It's okay, Max. That qualifying was amazing! I've never experienced anything like it."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. Come on, let me show you around."

He took her hand and he was struck by how natural it felt. Her fingers intertwined with his perfectly, and a warm sensation spread from their joined hands throughout his body.

They strolled through the paddock, Max pointing out the various team motorhomes, the garages, and the media center. YN was all wide-eyed fascination, asking questions and soaking in every detail. As they walked, Max found himself relaxing more and more, his previous nerves about their chemistry being gone fading away.

As they rounded a corner, they nearly bumped into Lando Norris. Who couldn't help but smirk at the sight of their hands intertwined.

"You guys met already!" he cheerfully said, "You must be YN."

Her cheeks flushed, clearly surprised that Max had mentioned her to his friends. Max felt a warmth spread through his chest at her reaction.

"Yeah, this is YN," Max said, unable to keep the smile off his face, "Meet Lando, the perpetual pain in my ass."

"Nice to finally meet the girl who's got Max reading," YN laughed, and Lando extended his hand, "Quite the accomplishment."

"Nice to meet you too, Lando," YN said, shaking his hand. "I've enjoyed watching you race, I'm a big fan. Congrats on the pole position."

"Cheers," Lando replied, then turned to Max with a mischievous glint in his eye. "So, has he bored you with car talk yet, or has he actually remembered how to discuss books?"

Max rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Shouldn't you be preparing for tomorrow, Lando?"

"Alright, alright, I can take a hint," Lando chuckled. "Enjoy your tour, lovebirds!"

As Lando walked away, Max felt a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. He glanced at YN, relieved to see her smiling.

"Sorry about him," Max said, shaking his head with a chuckle. "Lando has a way of making everything awkward."

YN laughed softly, her eyes twinkling. "It's fine. He seems like fun."

They continued their walk, finally making their way to the rooftop terrace of the Red Bull hospitality area. The view was stunning, offering a panoramic look at the circuit and the sea of orange-clad fans below.

"This is incredible," YN said, leaning against the railing and taking it all in. "Thank you for showing me around, Max."

"Of course," Max said, standing beside her. "I'm really glad you could come."

They stood there for a moment, enjoying the view and each other's company. Max felt a sense of contentment wash over him, the stress of the weekend melting away in her presence.

"Max," YN said softly, turning to face him. "I know this weekend is important for you, and I don't want to be a distraction. But I'm really happy to be here and to finally meet you."

"You're not a distraction," Max replied, reaching out to take her hand again. "You're the best part of this weekend, honestly."

They shared a smile, Max was well aware of the butterflies that fluttered on his stomach and the high school girl blush his friends teased him about, but he didn't care. He felt happy with the pretty girl who had been his source of comfort for months, finally face to face.

"You know," YN said softly, "when I made that video calling you a misunderstood hero with a heart of gold, I never imagined I'd get to see it firsthand. But being here, seeing how you are with your team, with the fans… I was right about you, Max Verstappen."

Max felt a warmth spread through his chest at her words. He had always been guarded about his public image, but hearing her perspective meant more than he could ever imagine.

"I'm glad you think so," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "You know, that video... it changed things for me. Not just because it led to us talking, but because it made me reflect on a lot of things."

"Who would've thought," YN said with a smile, "When I recorded that video, I never thought you would ever see it, let alone have an impact on you and let alone lead us to talking and me being here."

"Everything happens for a reason, right?"

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ynreadsbooks best experience ever. thank you, thank you, THANK YOU 🥺💙

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username1 OMFGGGG

username2 no one deserved this more than her for real

username3 SHE MET MAX TOO?? DESERVED

redbullracing Come back soon! 😉

username4 red bull finally inviting people who actually love the sport

username5 GIRL WE NEED A VLOGGGG

username6 omg how did this happen spiiiill

↳ ynreadsbooks let's say i got invited by the world champion

↳ username1 WTF

↳ username2 so MAX invited her not redbull help he really did become a fan after that video

danielricciardo Hope to see you around soon, love ! 👀

↳ username3 how do i sign up for this

username7 THAT PIC OF MAX IS SO BOYFRIEND CODED

maxversteppen1 Thank you so much for coming and making this day special ☺️

↳ username1 OMG MAX

↳ username2 i'd be screaming if i was her

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maxverstappen1 Enjoyed every moment in Zandvoort with this amazing atmosphere and the best company 🧡

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username1 KIIING

username2 how can a man be so babygirl

username3 all smiles even tho he finished p2

danielricciardo 🦁🦁

landonorris Simply lovely

↳ username1 menace

username4 bro who got you smiling like that

ynreadsbooks ❤️

↳ username2 biggest max girlie

↳ username3 WE NEED THAT VLOG

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When it came time for YN to leave the Netherlands, Max insisted on driving her to the airport himself. The car ride was filled with comfortable silence and soft conversation, both of them trying to stretch out their remaining time together.

Despite their short time together, Max found himself completely smitten, captivated by YN's intelligence, humor, and the way her eyes lit up when she talked about books or reacted to the thrill of the race.

He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he was head over heels for her.

As they stood in the departure terminal, Max felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her. He hesitated, his heart racing, but ultimately settled for a long, warm hug, breathing in her scent and committing it to memory. As he watched her walk through security, he already found himself missing her presence.

Now, a week later, Max was in Monza for the Italian Grand Prix. The day had been busy with media commitments and team meetings. Finally back in the quiet of his motorhome, Max flopped onto the couch, feeling drained but content. Without thinking, he reached for his phone and hit the FaceTime button next to YN's name.

Her smiling face appeared on the screen, and Max felt an immediate surge of warmth.

"Hey, you," she said, her voice soft and welcoming even through the phone's speakers.

"Hey," Max replied, unable to keep the grin off his face. "How's your day been?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. Editing videos, reading, missing the excitement of the paddock," YN teased. "How about you? Surviving the media circus?"

"Barely," Max groaned dramatically, "I swear, if I have to answer one more question about RedBull and their big mess, I might go mad."

YN laughed, the sound making Max's heart skip a beat. "Poor Max. Whatever shall we do to take your mind off your beloved team?"

"Well," Max said, shifting to get more comfortable, "I've been reading that new sci-fi book you recommended. 'The Martian-like Odyssey to Titan,' or whatever it's called."

"'Project Hail Mary,'" she corrected, "And? What do you think so far?"

"It's incredible!" Max's eyes lit up, "I mean, the science is fascinating, and the way the main character problem-solves is just... I don't know, it reminds me a bit of what we do in racing, you know? Constantly adapting, finding solutions on the fly."

"That's exactly why I thought you'd like it! The way Andy Weir writes about scientific problem-solving is so engaging."

They dove into an animated discussion about the book, Max marveling at how easily conversation flowed between them, how YN's passion for books was infectious. As they talked, a thought that had been brewing in Max's mind for days suddenly surfaced.

"YN," Max said, his voice softer than before. "There's actually something I've been wanting to ask you."

"Oh? What is it, Max?" she tilted her head, curiosity evident in her expression.

Max took a deep breath, suddenly feeling like he was about to qualify for a crucial race. "Well, I was wondering... have you ever been to Monaco?"

"No, actually, I haven't," YN's eyebrows raised in surprise, "It's always been on my travel wish list, though. Why do you ask?"

Max felt his heart rate pick up. He'd rehearsed this moment in his head countless times over the past few days, but now that it was here, he found himself fumbling for words.

"Well, you see, I have a two-week break coming up before the Baku GP, and I was thinking... maybe... if you're free, of course, and if you'd like to... you could come visit me in Monaco?"

The words tumbled out faster than he intended, and Max felt a blush creeping up his neck. He watched YN's face carefully, trying to gauge her reaction. His mind raced with possibilities - what if she said no? What if this was too forward?

YN's eyes widened, and for a moment, she seemed at a loss for words. "Oh, Max, that's... wow. That's really sweet of you to offer."

Max, sensing a hint of hesitation, quickly added, "You could stay at my place. I have plenty of room, and it would be great to have you around. Plus I have two adorable cats that I'm sure you'd love."

YN's expression softened, a mix of excitement and uncertainty in her eyes. "That sounds amazing, Max. But… are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose on your personal space or your time off."

Truth was, Max wanted to spent every free moment he had with her, but he wasn't sure how to let her know without sounding too forward or like a creep, so he just pressed on.

"You wouldn't be imposing at all, I promise. I really want us to spend more time together, away from the craziness of the race weekends. And I'd love to show you around Monaco."

He watched as YN bit her lip, considering his offer. The silence stretched for a moment, and Max found himself holding his breath.

"If you're not comfortable staying at my place," he added quickly, "I could book you a hotel room, or there are some great Airbnbs with amazing views of the harbor. Whatever makes you feel most at ease. I just… I really want to see you again."

As he spoke, Max realized just how true his words were. The thought of having YN in his space, sharing meals, exploring the city together - it filled him with a warmth he couldn't quite describe. It was more than just attraction; there was a comfort in her presence that he craved.

YN smiled, a warm look in her eyes. "You really mean that, don't you?"

"I do. Look, I know it might seem like a big ask, but I just... I can't stop thinking about how much fun we have together. And Monaco is beautiful this time of year. We could go for drives along the coast, have dinner at some amazing restaurants, or just relax by the pool if you prefer. No pressure, just... us. And well, the cats."

Max held his breath, waiting for her response. The thought of having YN in Monaco, of being able to spend uninterrupted time with her away from the pressures of the race weekend, made his heart soar. He imagined showing her his favorite spots in the city, maybe taking her out on his boat, or just lounging by the pool and talking for hours.

"Alright, Verstappen, you've convinced me. But I have one condition."

"Name it." Max grinned, relief and excitement washing over him.

"If I'm staying at your place, you have to let me cook my infamous waffles for breakfast. They're a secret family recipe, and I guarantee they'll be the best you've ever tasted."

"Deal," Max's smile widened, a burst of joy exploding in his chest. "But I warn you, I take my waffles very seriously. They better live up to the hype."

"Oh, they will. And I can't wait to meet the cats."

As they continued to chat and make plans for YN's visit, Max felt a warmth spreading through his chest. The prospect of having YN in his home, of waking up and knowing she was just in the next room, of being able to spend lazy mornings together over homemade waffles - it all seemed almost too good to be true.

He found himself imagining what it would be like to have her there. Would she curl up on his couch with a book? Would they watch the sunset from his terrace? Would he finally get the courage to kiss her?

The thought made his heart race. He remembered the moment at the airport when he had wanted so badly to kiss her goodbye. This time, he promised himself, he wouldn't let the opportunity pass by.

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The day of YN's arrival in Monaco had finally come, and Max felt like a giddy teenager preparing for his first date.

In the days leading up to YN's visit, Max had found himself unusually preoccupied with preparations. He wanted everything to be perfect for YN's stay. He'd bought new sheets for the guest bedroom, making sure they were the softest he could find. He'd stocked the fridge with an array of foods, unsure of her preferences but making sure to have options. He'd even gone so far as to buy a small collection of books he thought she might enjoy, arranging them carefully on the nightstand in her room.

The morning of her arrival, Max woke up early, his stomach a knot of excitement and nerves. He double-checked everything one last time - fresh towels in the bathroom, extra toiletries in case she forgot anything, a vase of fresh flowers on the kitchen counter to brighten up the space. He felt almost silly with how much effort he was putting in, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted everything to be perfect for the girl he was smitten with.

As the time to leave for the airport approached, Max found himself pacing, checking his watch every few minutes. He'd planned the route to the airport meticulously, factoring in potential traffic to make sure he'd be there in plenty of time. Just as he was about to grab his keys and head out, the doorbell rang.

Confused, Max paused. He wasn't expecting anyone - he'd made sure to clear his schedule completely for YN's visit. Frowning slightly, he opened the door to find Lando standing there, a wide grin on his face.

"Lando? What are you doing here?" Max asked, glancing at his watch.

"What, can't a mate drop by for a visit?" Lando replied, trying to peer past Max into the apartment. "Thought we could hang out, maybe play some FIFA."

Max shifted awkwardly, blocking the doorway. "Lando, mate, I'm actually just about to head out. I can't hang out right now."

"Oh, come on," Lando's grin faltered slightly, "Just for a bit? We haven't had a proper catch-up in ages."

"I'm sorry, I really can't," Max insisted, glancing at his watch nervously. "I have to pick up a friend from the airport."

Lando's eyes narrowed suspiciously, a mischievous glint appearing. "A friend, huh? Is it that your book dream girl? You're flying her out over here?"

Max felt his face heat up, a blush creeping up his neck. He tried to deny it, but his reaction gave him away.

"It is! Oh man, this is brilliant," Lando's eyes widened in delight, "Max Verstappen, blushing like a schoolboy over a girl."

"Shut up," Max grumbled, but there was no real annoyance in his voice. He couldn't help but smile.

"So, YN is finally gracing Monaco with her presence," Lando teased. "No wonder you've been so distracted lately. When do I get to hang out with her?"

"You don't," Max rolled his eyes, "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go."

"Alright, alright," Lando stepped aside, still grinning. "But I want details later, yeah? And tell YN I said hi."

Max waved him off, hurrying to his car. Despite Lando's teasing, he couldn't wipe the smile off his face. The excitement was bubbling up inside him again as he drove to the airport.

As he parked and made his way to the arrivals area, Max felt his nerves almost making him want to throw up. He found himself fidgeting, alternating between pacing and sitting, his eyes glued to the arrivals board.

Finally, he saw that YN's flight had landed. His heart rate picked up as he watched the doors, scanning the crowd for her familiar face. And then, suddenly, there she was.

YN emerged from the arrivals gate, looking a bit tired from the journey but still radiant. Her eyes scanned the crowd, and when they landed on Max, her face lit up with a brilliant smile.

Max felt his breath catch in his throat. He raised his hand in a small wave, a grin spreading across his face as he walked towards her.

"Hey, Max," she said as she reached him, her voice warm and slightly breathless.

"Hey," he replied, suddenly feeling shy. "How was your flight?"

Without thinking, he pulled her into a hug. As he wrapped his arms around her, breathing in the scent of her hair, he felt a sense of rightness wash over him. It was as if all the pieces were falling into place.

"It was good, just long," she hugged him back tightly. "I'm so glad to be here though."

As they pulled apart, Max found himself reluctant to let go completely. He kept one hand on her back as he reached for her suitcase with the other. "Here, let me get that for you."

"Always the gentleman," YN teased, but her smile was soft and appreciative.

As they walked towards the exit, Max found himself stealing glances at her, still hardly believing she was really here. "So, um, I thought we could grab some lunch if you're hungry? Or if you're tired, we can head straight to my place so you can rest."

YN considered for a moment. "Lunch sounds great, actually. I'm starving, and I'm too excited to sleep just yet. I want to see Monaco."

Max chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through his chest at her enthusiasm. "Lunch it is then. I know just the place – it has a great view of the harbor."

As they made their way to Max's car, chatting easily about YN's flight and Max's plans for her visit, Max felt a sense of contentment he hadn't experienced in a long time. The nervousness from earlier had melted away, replaced by pure happiness.

Loading YN's suitcase into the trunk, Max caught her eye and smiled. "I'm really glad you're here, YN."

She returned his smile, her eyes sparkling. "Me too, Max. Me too."

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username1 AWEEE

username2 those are cute kittens

username3 those look like max verstappen's cats

username4 JIMMY AND SASSY VERSTAPPEN??

↳ username1 how CRAZY would it be

danielricciardo Don't hesitate to shout if he's much trouble

↳ username2 HOLD ON??

↳ ynreadsbooks he's just fine don't worry 😅

↳ username3 IS SHE REALLY WITH MAX??

↳ maxverstappen1 I'm not trouble...

↳ username1 OMFGGG

↳ username4 THIS PLOT TWIST

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Three days had passed since YN's arrival in Monaco, and Max couldn't remember a time when he'd been happier.

True to her word, YN had cooked her infamous waffles for breakfast on the second morning of her stay. As Max had taken his first bite, his eyes had widened in surprise and delight. The waffles were light and crispy on the outside, yet fluffy on the inside, with a perfect balance of sweetness and a hint of vanilla. He'd declared them the best he'd ever tasted, earning a proud smile from her.

The days that followed had been filled with laughter, conversation, and exploration. They'd spent hours by Max's pool, talking about everything and nothing. YN would often bring a book, reading aloud passages that she found particularly interesting or amusing, while Max listened, content to hear her voice and watch the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about something she loved.

They'd explored Monaco together, with Max showing YN his favorite spots and discovering new ones together. He'd taken her to the Monte Carlo Casino, where they'd marveled at the architecture and people-watched. They'd strolled through the streets of Monaco-Ville, the old town, where YN had been enchanted by the colorful buildings. They'd even spent an afternoon at the Oceanographic Museum, where YN's enthusiasm for learning had been infectious, and Max had found himself just as excited as she was about the marine life exhibits.

Throughout it all, Max felt himself falling deeper for her. It wasn't just her beauty or her intelligence that captivated him, but the way she saw the world. Her curiosity, her kindness, her ability to find joy in the smallest things - it all made Max see his surroundings through new eyes. He found himself noticing details he'd never paid attention to before, appreciating moments he might have otherwise overlooked.

What struck Max most was how easy and right it all felt. There was no pressure, no awkwardness. Being with YN was as natural as breathing. They could talk for hours without running out of things to say, but they were also comfortable in silence, simply enjoying each other's presence.

As they returned from another long day of exploring the city, both Max and YN retreated to their respective rooms to change into more comfortable clothing. Max opted for a soft t-shirt and sweatpants, relishing the feeling of being relaxed and at ease in his own home.

When he emerged from his room, he found YN already settled on his couch, her legs tucked under her, a book in her hands and one of his cats curling beside her. She was wearing one the t-shirt she picked the night she arrived when she realized she forgot to pack pajamas. It was too big for her frame but Max felt like melting knowing she was wearing his shirt.

The sight made Max's heart skip a beat. There was something so intimate and domestic about the scene - YN looking completely at home in his space, in his clothes, absorbed in a book as if she'd always been there.

Max couldn't help but smile, a warmth spreading through his chest. He found himself wanting this view in his life every day - coming home to find YN there, comfortable and content. The thought both thrilled and terrified him. He'd never felt this way about anyone before, never wanted to intertwine his life so completely with another person's.

YN looked up from her book, catching Max's gaze. Her lips curved into a soft smile. "Hey. Want to join me?"

Without hesitation, Max crossed the room. Instead of sitting next to her, he surprised both of them by lying down on the couch and resting his head in her lap. He looked up at her, his eyes vulnerable. "Would you read to me?"

YN's expression softened, her eyes twinkling with affection. "Of course," she said, her free hand moving to gently run her fingers through his hair.

Max closed his eyes, reveling in the sensation. He felt her shift slightly, getting comfortable, and then her voice filled the air, soft and melodious as she began to read.

Max's lips curved into a smile. "Emma," he murmured. "I remember you mentioning it was one of your favorites."

YN paused her reading, looking down at him with surprise and pleasure. "You remembered that?"

"Of course," Max opened his eyes, meeting her gaze. "I remember everything you tell me."

A huge grin appeared in YN's face, and she bent down to press a soft kiss to Max's forehead. The gesture was so natural, so tender, that it made Max's heart flutter.

As she continued to read, her fingers still combing through his hair, Max found himself only half-listening to the words. Instead, he was acutely aware of every point of contact between them - the warmth of her lap under his head, the gentle touch of her fingers, the soft cadence of her voice washing over him.

In that moment, Max realized with startling clarity that this was what he wanted for the rest of his life. Not just the glamour of racing or the thrill of victory, but this - quiet moments of intimacy, the comfort of being with someone who understood him, who made him want to be better.

He reached up, gently taking YN's free hand in his own, intertwining their fingers. She paused in her reading, looking down at him with a question in her eyes.

"YN," Max said softly, his voice filled with emotion. "I'm really glad you're here."

She squeezed his hand, her smile radiant. "So am I, Max. So am I."

As she resumed reading, her voice mixing with the soft sound of the Mediterranean breeze outside, Max closed his eyes again, a sense of peace settling over him. Whatever the future held, he knew that this moment, this feeling, was something he'd cherish forever.

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ynreadsbooks monaco you're the dream 🤍

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username1 GIRL

username2 THIS ESCALATED QUICKLY

username3 how do you go from max randomly commenting one of your videos to this

username4 girl we can tell that's max dw 😭😭

username5 YOU OWE US A TWO HOUR STORYTIME VIDEO

username6 anything you want to tell us best friend?

username7 she just had a book and a dream fr

landonorris Has he bored you yet?

↳ username1 IM DYING

↳ username2 she really masterminded her way into the f1 circle

↳ ynreadsbooks he's nice, makes good smoothies 😉

↳ maxverstappen1 Good to know that ❤️

↳ landonorris I'm disgusted

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As the final day of YN's stay in Monaco dawned, Max found himself feeling so many bittersweet emotions. The past week had been nothing short of magical, and the thought of it coming to an end left a hollow feeling in his chest. She hadn't even left yet, and already he missed her.

For their final day, Max had decided to take YN out on his yacht. He wanted their last hours together to be special, just the two of them away from the bustling streets of Monaco. As they prepared for the day, packing a picnic and gathering sunscreen and towels, Max couldn't help but reflect on the past week.

Daniel and Lando had teased him mercilessly about his sudden disappearance from their usual hangouts. They'd made jokes about Max being "whipped" and how he'd fallen hard for his "YouTube dream girl." But Max didn't care. He was too happy, too caught up in the bubble of joy that surrounded him and YN.

As they boarded the yacht, the Mediterranean stretching out before them in shades of turquoise, Max felt a pang in his chest. This perfect week was coming to an end, and he wasn't sure he was ready to face reality again.

Once they were out on the open water. YN leaned over the railing, a look of wonder on her face.

"This is incredible, Max," she said, turning to him with a dazzling smile. "I can't believe I'm here, experiencing all of this."

Max moved to stand beside her, their shoulders brushing. "I'm going to miss you," he said softly, "This week has been… I don't even have words for it."

"I'm going to miss you too, Max. So much. But you know I have to go back home. I have videos to make for my channel, work stuff to catch up on…"

Max nodded, understanding but not liking it. "Maybe you could make a video about 'A Week with an F1 Driver'? I'm sure your subscribers would love that."

YN laughed, playfully shoving his shoulder. "Oh yes, I'm sure that would go over well. 'Day 3: Watched Max eat his bodyweight in pasta. Day 5: Learned that F1 drivers are actually big babies when they lose at Mario Kart.'"

"I am not a baby!" Max gasped in mock offense. "I'm just… competitive."

"Uh-huh, sure," she teased, her eyes twinkling. "Is that why you pouted for an hour after I beat you?"

"I did not pout," Max protested, but he was grinning.

"You know, it's still surreal to me that a random video I published got us here. If someone had told me a year ago that I'd be spending a week in Monaco with Max Verstappen, I would have laughed in their face."

Max reached out, caressing her cheek softly. "I'm glad you made that video," he said softly. "I'm glad I stumbled across it. I can't imagine not knowing you now."

As they stood together on the boat, the gentle rocking of the waves mirroring the tumultuous emotions within them, Max found his gaze drawn to YN's lips. They were slightly parted, soft and inviting. His heart raced as he lifted his eyes to meet hers, a silent question in his gaze.

YN's eyes, warm and full of affection, met his. A small, knowing smile played at the corners of her mouth, and in that moment, it was all the permission Max needed.

With a gentle tug, he pulled her closer, one hand coming to rest on the small of her back while the other cupped her cheek. Time seemed to slow as he leaned in, their breaths mingling in the space between them. And then, finally, their lips met.

The kiss was tender at first, a soft exploration. But as YN's arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers threading through his hair, it deepened into something more passionate. Max poured all of his pent-up emotions into the kiss - his joy, his longing, his hope for what they could be.

When they finally parted, YN's eyes were sparkling. "You know," she said, a playful tone to her voice, "I've been waiting for you to do that all week."

Max couldn't help but laugh, a mixture of relief and happiness bubbling up inside him. "Really? All week, huh?"

"Mmhmm," she nodded, her smile widening. "I was starting to think I'd have to make the first move myself."

"Well," Max said, his voice low and teasing, "allow me to make up for lost time."

With that, he pulled her in for another kiss. This one was different from the first - more confident, more passionate. His hands roamed her back, pulling her flush against him as her fingers tangled in his hair. The world around them faded away until there was nothing but the two of them, the taste of salt on their lips, and the warmth of the setting sun on their skin.

When they broke apart this time, both were slightly dazed. Max rested his forehead against YN's, unwilling to put any distance between them.

"I really like you," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "More than I've ever liked anyone before. This week with you… it's been incredible. I don't want it to end."

YN's hand came up to cup his cheek, her thumb gently stroking his skin. "I really like you too, Max," she replied, her voice equally soft. "These past few days have been like a dream."

Max pulled back slightly, just enough to meet her eyes. "I know you have to go back, but… I want to make this work. Us, I mean. If that's something you want too."

"I do want that. Very much. It might not be easy with our schedules and the distance, but I think you're worth it."

"We'll figure it out," he said, determination clear in his voice. "I'll come visit you when I can, and you can come to some of my races. We'll make time for video calls, and I'll text you so much you'll get sick of me."

YN laughed, the sound like music to Max's ears. "I don't think I could ever get sick of you," she said, her eyes twinkling. "But I'm holding you to that promise about the races. I expect VIP treatment, Mr. Verstappen."

Max grinned, pulling her close again. "For you? Always," he murmured, before capturing her lips in another kiss.

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ynreadsbooks has added to their stories

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The month following YN's stay in Monaco had been blissful happiness for both YN and Max. Their parting at the airport had been bittersweet, filled with lingering kisses and tight embraces. They had spent a good hour cuddling in Max's car in the airport parking lot, neither wanting to let go.

"I'm going to miss you so much," YN had whispered, her face buried in the crook of Max's neck.

Max had tightened his arms around her, breathing in her scent. "I'll miss you too. But we'll see each other soon, I promise."

When they finally managed to separate, their goodbye kiss had been passionate and filled with promise. As Max watched her disappear into the airport, he already felt a piece of his heart leaving with her.

In the weeks that followed, they took every opportunity to be together. Max would fly to YN's home during his breaks between races, often arriving exhausted but immediately revitalized by her presence.

Their reunions were always intense, filled with desperate kisses and roaming hands as they made up for lost time. But it was the quiet moments that Max treasured most - waking up with YN in his arms, her sleepy smile the first thing he saw; cooking breakfast together, stealing kisses between flipping pancakes; or simply sitting in comfortable silence, each lost in their own tasks but finding comfort in the other's presence.

Now, as they walked hand in hand through the paddock in Austin for the USA Grand Prix, Max felt a sense of pride and joy unlike anything he'd experienced before. Having YN by his side at a race weekend, this time as more than just a friend, felt right in a way he couldn't fully express.

"This is incredible, Max," YN breathed, squeezing his hand. "I don't think I'll ever get used to it."

Max grinned, his heart swelling with affection. He loved seeing the paddock through her eyes, rediscovering the magic that he sometimes took for granted.

"Wait until you see the track," he said, pulling her closer. "And the sound when all the cars start up… there's nothing like it."

They paused for a moment, watching as a group of mechanics wheeled a set of tires past them. Max took the opportunity to really look at his girl. She was radiant in the sunlight, her hair catching the light and her eyes sparkling with excitement. He couldn't resist leaning in to place a soft kiss on her cheek.

YN turned to him, a playful smile on her lips. "What was that for?"

"Do I need a reason to kiss my girl?" Max replied, his voice low and teasing.

She laughed, the sound music to his ears. "I suppose not. But maybe save some for later? We are in public, after all."

"You're killing me," Max groaned dramatically. "How am I supposed to focus on racing when you look like that?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll manage," YN teased, patting his chest. "After all, I hear you're quite good at this driving thing."

Their playful banter was interrupted by a familiar voice calling out. "Oi, Verstappen! Finally decided to grace us with your presence?"

Max turned to see Daniel approaching, his trademark grin in place. Lando was close behind, an equally mischievous look on his face.

"Hey guys," Max greeted, unconsciously pulling YN closer. "You remember YN, right?"

"Ah yes," Daniel's grin widened. "Nice to see you again, love."

"It's great to see you too, Daniel," she smiled warmly. "And you, Lando."

Lando's eyes darted between Max and YN, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "So, Max, finally managed to seal the deal, huh?"

Max felt his cheeks heat up, but before he could respond, YN jumped in.

"Oh, he did more than that," she said, her tone light but with a hint of something that made Max's pulse quicken. "He's been quite… impressive."

Daniel let out a low whistle while Lando burst into laughter. Max couldn't help but join in, marveling at how effortlessly YN fit into his world.

As they chatted, Max couldn't keep his hands off YN. He found himself constantly touching her - a hand on the small of her back, playing with her fingers, rubbing her arm softly. Each touch was like a spark, reminding him of their passionate reunions over the past month.

He thought back to their last meeting, just a week ago. He had flown to her place straight after he was done with some meetings in Monaco, exhausted but desperate to see her. The moment he stepped through her door, all fatigue had vanished. They had barely made it to the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes in their wake. The memory of her skin against his, the taste of her lips, the sound of her gasps and moans… it was enough to make him want to whisk her away to his motorhome right now.

Max was pulled from his thoughts by the approach of another familiar face. Charles Leclerc was walking towards them, his trademark charming smile in place.

"Max! Good to see you, man," Charles said, clapping Max on the shoulder before turning his attention to YN. "And who might this lovely lady be?"

Without hesitation, the words tumbled from Max's lips: "This is YN, my girlfriend."

He felt the girl stiffen slightly beside him, and for a moment, panic flared in his chest. Had he overstepped? They hadn't explicitly discussed labels yet. But when he glanced at YN, she was smiling warmly at Charles, her hand still firmly in Max's.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Charles," YN said, shaking his hand.

Charles raised an eyebrow at Max, a hint of surprise in his expression. "The pleasure is all mine. I hope you're enjoying your time in the paddock."

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, they parted ways. Max led YN towards his driver's room. Once inside the relative privacy of the small space, YN turned to him, a playful glint in her eye.

"Girlfriend, huh?" she said, her tone light but with an undercurrent of something Max couldn't quite identify.

Max felt a flutter of nervousness in his stomach. "I… yeah. I mean, if that's okay? I know we haven't really talked about it, but…"

YN stepped closer, her fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. "It's more than okay, Max. I was just surprised. We've been in this beautiful bubble, and hearing you say it out loud… it made it feel real in a way it hasn't before."

Max let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. His hands found their way to YN's waist, pulling her closer. "It is real," he said softly. "I've never felt this way about anyone before. Feels like you're everything."

Her eyes softened, her hand coming up to cup his cheek. "You're everything to me too, Max. I love you."

The words hung in the air between them for a moment, both realizing it was the first time either had said it. Then Max surged forward, capturing YN's lips in a kiss that was equal parts tender and passionate.

When they broke apart. Max rested his forehead against YN's, his eyes closed as he savored the moment.

"I love you too," he whispered. "God, YN, I love you so much."

YN's answering smile was radiant and she pulled him in for another kiss.

"So," he said, his voice husky, "ready to watch your boyfriend win a race?"

YN laughed, the sound filling the small space and Max's heart. "Always," she replied. "My misunderstood hero with a heart of gold."

[inkskinned]

"the curtains weren't blue on purpose. why should we care?"

my love! let me ask you this - did you eat breakfast today? this tiny moment in your life. just think about it. did you?

for some of you, the answer is yes and for some of you it is technically and for some of you it is does coffee count. some of you reached for cereal or gmo-free overnight oats or frozen waffles or 3-day-old pizza. sometimes we eat the same thing, every day, for weeks. i get tired of eggs randomly, only to go back to craving them desperately. i'm cuban; i take my coffee like my father showed me, very milky and sweet.

some of us ate in a hurry. some of us hate eating breakfast but if we don't we will get nauseous later. some of us took our meds first or took our meds after. some of us have a kitchen 5 feet wide and sometimes it's the biggest room in the house. some of us are confident there will be food in the pantry and some of us flinch and say well, the paycheck is coming. some of us turn on a podcast while we eat or we scroll our phones or write in our diaries.

some of us are choosing, specifically, not to eat breakfast. some of us are too busy. some of us are pretending we "just forgot," but we are ignoring the warning signs that everything feels too-heavy. some of us are so consumed with anxiety or grief that we can't eat. some of us can't stand up long enough to make our coffee. some of us have no table to sit down and eat.

i cannot tell you what an artist "meant" by their choices. but they did have to make a choice, conscious or otherwise, to give you information. to give you a little bit more light. each of these choices are little stars of data; connecting speckles for you to weave through, drawing a line.

you cannot use a mirror in a dark room. for some of us; we will not care that the curtains are blue, because that will just be a data point and not enough light to see by. for some of us, the blue curtains will be the same as our childhood bedroom. it will make us seasick. for some of us, blue will be the color of frostbite. it might look like a pixel up close; but from a distance, oh! the picture blooms.

i cannot tell you what will stick out for you. what will carry meaning. some of you will read the sentence "i didn't have breakfast today" and say "this means nothing." some of you will read that and say "oh, me neither." some of you will say "this means the character is probably a little grouchy." some of you will say "oh, i wonder if they're okay. why didn't they eat anything?" ... art is a mirror. i am holding hands with you, over space and time, and asking you to feel something with me.

i want you to read my work and find a blue pair of curtains. i want you to read my work and find things in it that i never imagined placing. i have no way of knowing what will resonate with you, that's true. and maybe i just was hungry while i wrote this, and thinking about the eggs in my fridge. but if you found meaning, that meaning is yours. it cannot be erased just because i didn't "intend" it. you created a different world by interpreting my work. it's collaborative! that's beautiful! that's stunning!

just! imagine looking at the night sky and saying - it's stupid to have a favorite constellation or a favorite star. they're just there.

because here's the thing - across centuries and cultures, we look up. we still find meaning in the stars. these beautiful, lovely scattered accidents. are you looking? they call. and we look back and say oh! of course we are!

[requiemforthepoets]

hey, are you still there? 𖦹 LN4

PAIRINGS: lando norris x female!reader

SUMMARY: you know yourself that it’s sad that you settled on being a backburner, but you didn’t mind crisping up on lando’s backburner as long as he still think of you.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, unrequited love(?), open ending, insecurities, reader being treated as a backburner, childhood best friends, christmas angst, luisa, typos, and few grammatical errors.

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i had always wanted to write this for so long, but i’m not sure how to pen it, but finally, here it is! so far, i’m satisfied. i don’t know much about luisa, but i’m sorry that luisa is kind of villainized in this 🥲 i’m sorry. this is like another christmas one shot, sooo haha i intentionally made it as an open ending bc i want to leave the ending to you, and let me apologize now bc this one shot won’t have a part 2. it just felt right for me to leave it as an open ending and leave the ending up to you. so i hope you’ll enjoy this one!

The glow of the snowy afternoon sun filtered through your apartment windows, casting long, golden shadows across the floor as you sat cross-legged amidst a pile of forgotten keepsakes.

Your plan was simple, really. To declutter, toss out what no longer sparked happiness, and finally reclaim some much-needed space in your small New York apartment. But simplicity soon faded the moment you stumbled upon a memory box that was buried beneath old blankets in the closet. You hadn’t thought about it in years, the worn out wooden edges now slightly faded, but just holding the box again made you feel something deep in your chest.

Sliding the lid of the box open, the faint scent of nostalgia greeted you. There was a mixture of paper and dust that carried you back to another time, another place. Polaroid photographs, ticket stubs, concert tickets, and tiny trinkets spilled out as you began to sift through the box’s contents, fingers brushing against fragments of a life you had once shared with someone who knew you better than anyone. Then you saw it—the camcorder.

It sat nestled at the bottom of the box, its black casing slightly scuffed but still intact, as though it had been waiting for you all these years. The sight of it made your breath catch, fingers hesitant as they wrapped around the familiar shape. A small laugh escaped you, soft and bittersweet, as a wave of memories washed over you.

The camcorder had been a gift from your parents, given to you when you were just a teen. At the time, you had rolled your eyes at the thought of having a camcorder. You were not exactly the type to obsess over gadgets or record everything, but your parents had insisted, saying something along the lines of making memories worth keeping.

You hadn’t even opened the box properly before you had told him about it. Lando had always had a thing for photography, an almost childlike fascination with capturing the world around him. Naturally, he had lit up at the mention of the camcorder. You remembered the way his face had brightened, how he had practically snatched it from your hands when he saw it, excitement radiating from him like it was Christmas morning.

“Trust me,” he said, voice brimming with certainty as he flipped the device open with ease. “This is going to be so much fun, you’ll see.”

And it was.

The camcorder had quickly become his, in everything but name. Lando had used it more than you ever had, his artistic streak shining through in the way he would capture the smallest, most mundane moments and make them feel extraordinary. But what stood out the most was his favorite subject. You.

Every time you hung out, or visited a new place, his focus would inevitably turn to you. At first, you had protested, laughing and batting the camcorder away, but over time, it became a rhythm of sorts. Lando, behind the lens, coaxing your laughter and teasing your smile, and you, rolling your eyes but secretly loving the way he saw you. Through the lens, even the quietest days seemed to feel alive.

You traced a finger along the camcorder’s edges, the faint outline of his fingerprints etched invisibly into its surface. Four years. It had been four years since you had left the UK—four years since you had left him. You told yourself that what you did was for the best, that you needed to grow, chase bigger dreams.

Part of it all was true, but the other part, the one which you didn’t say out loud, was the reason why your chest tightened even now. Was because Lando made you feel too much, and you were not sure you could bear it any longer.

You grabbed your laptop, briefly hesitated over the laptop’s keyboard before finally connecting the camcorder. The familiar chime of recognition echoed through the room as your laptop detected the device, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of nervous anticipation.

It had been years since you last thought about these videos, let alone watched them. As the files began to load, thumbnails filled the screen—tiny, burry windows into the past. You clicked on the first one, and the second is the screen lit up with a younger version of yourself, smiling awkwardly into the lens. Lando’s voice filled the room almost immediately.

“Come on, you can smile better than that!” he teased from behind the camera, chuckling.

Without even realizing it, a small smile tugged at your lips as you watched. The video playing one after another, each one showed a snapshot of your lives back then. There were clips of you on spontaneous trips—forests, city streets, karting, and endless car rides with Lando singing loudly and off-key while you laughed at him.

There were also quieter moments—rainy afternoon when you were sat by your bedroom window, lost in thought, while he filmed you from across the room, calling it aesthetic. Lando captured everything, from the highs to the lows.

The memories felt vivid, almost too vivid, as if you could reach through the screen and relieve those moments. It was the year he had started his Formula 1 career, and the first time you saw him truly chasing his dreams with everything he had, and were beyond proud of him. At the same time, it was also the year you were filling out endless applications to universities in America, unsure of where you wanted to go or what you wanted to do in life. It was like you were both standing on the edge of something new, something big, and it was both thrilling and terrifying.

It was also the year you finally admitted to yourself that what you felt for Lando was no longer just friendship. You had been so close for so long that the shift felt almost imperceptible at first—lingering glance here, flutter in your chest there. But you acknowledged it, there was no going back.

You found yourself looking at him differently, noticing the little things about him that had always been there but suddenly felt so significant. The way how his eyes crinkled when he laughed, his curly hair, aquamarine eyes, the quiet focus he had when working on something he cared about, and most of all, the way he always seemed to know exactly what to say to make you feel better.

But you kept it to yourself. You couldn’t tell Lando, not when he had told you so casually, like it was nothing that he liked someone.

“I don’t even know if she feels the same,” he had said, voice laced with uncertainty.

For a brief moment, a hope sparked in you. Maybe after all this time, Lando felt the same way about you. Maybe this was the moment that you had finally been waiting for.

But that hope shattered almost immediately when he pulled out his phone and showed you a photo. The girl’s name was Luisa, and she was stunning. She was everything that you were not—model, successful, gorgeous, has a radiant smile and a presence that seemed magnetic. Luisa was exactly Lando’s type, and you knew it.

The realization hit you harder than you had expected. You felt dumb and foolish, for even thinking one second that Lando could ever see you that way. You were not like Luisa, you were not the kind of girl who turned heads or made people stop in their tracks. You were just…you. Lando’s best friend. The person he could have a joke with, confide in, and lean on, but will never see you anything as more.

So you stayed quiet. Buried your feelings deep, gaslighting yourself that everything was better the way it is. The less you talk, the less you risked losing him. Maybe if you kept on pretending that everything was fine, you could learn to let him go.

A new clip began to play. You were seated on the edge of a bench, face scrunched in frustration as you ran a hand through your hair. The sound of Lando’s laughter crackled through the speakers, light and teasing, as he zoomed in on your expression from behind the camera.

“You’re such a drama queen,” he said, voice laced with amusement.

It was clear that from that clip that he was trying to cheer you up. It had been one of those moments when everything felt overwhelming. Your plans, future, and feelings. Yet, even in your frustration, Lando had managed to make you laugh. He always did. Watching it now, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly at how young and naïve you looked.

But the video carried more weight than just a frustration afternoon. That day, you had a front-row seat to another chapter in Lando’s pursuit of Luisa. It was the day he told you that he finally confessed his feeling to her, and you could still remember how his voice sounded. It was a mix of hope and vulnerability as he recounted every detail, but his excitement had quickly dimmed when Lando explained how his confession had met an uncertainty from Luisa, not really sure how she felt about Lando.

You remembered how that hurt him, even if he tried to hide it behind his usual bravado. It was one of the few times you had seen Lando genuinely shaken, his confidence chipped away by a single sentence. Still, it did not stop him, if anything, it only made him more determined to win her over.

This is exactly what Lando is—relentless, persistent, unwilling to let go of something he wanted.

Then there was you, caught in the orbit of it all. A pattern had started to form, one you did not want to acknowledge but couldn’t ignore. Whenever Luisa turned her back on him, when his texts went unanswered, or her attention drifted elsewhere, Lando would always find his way to you. His calls would come late at night, voice low and tinged with sadness as he stumbled through excuses to keep you on the line, and you, despite knowing better, would always answer.

Those were the moments you chastised yourself for loving. When Lando was hurt, when he felt small and alone, he always came to you. You were the person he confided in, one he leaned on. It almost felt like you mattered to him in the way you wanted to. Even if you knew, deep down, that it was not that. That it was temporary, a band-aid for his bruised ego—you couldn’t help but savor the attention.

But then, inevitably, Luisa would give him the smallest bit of her time, and you would become invisible to him again. The calls would stop, texts would taper off, and Lando would be lost in the glow of her half-hearted affection. You would feel the ache of being left behind, sting of knowing you were nothing more than a safety net, a placeholder, a convenient fallback plan.

It was a never ending cycle you despised, one that made you look at yourself with pity as you played into it. But whether it was out of hope or some cruel sense of inevitability, you stayed. You let it happen. Time and time again, picking up the pieces when Lando fell apart, only to watch him hand them back to her the moment she glanced his way.

It was always like this. It had always been like this, and somehow, despite everything, you definitely hadn’t learned your lesson.

The video continued to play, the faint static of old footage mixing with Lando’s voice can be heard, his laughter like a distant echo from another life. As you watched yourself on the screen—smiling, frowning, existing in a world where everything felt so much simpler—memories came rushing back, faster and heavier than you had expected. They were not just simple memories of moments, they were reminders of how deeply you felt, how much your life revolved around Lando without you even realizing it.

Your feelings for him had always been the silent undercurrent of your friendship, unspoken but ever-present. You had spent so much time trying to convince yourself that it was just a phase, that you would grow out of it, but you never did.

Instead, those feelings rooted themselves deeper, becoming a part of you. You wondered if the reason you hadn’t moved on was not because you could not, but because you hadn’t really tried at all. Maybe you were afraid, maybe life felt easier when you let it stay messy, undefined—when you clung to the hope that Lando might see you differently someday.

But the reality of it all was far less romantic. You had become his backburner, a place he turned to only when he had nowhere else to go, and the most pathetic part? You didn’t even mind. You let yourself burn quietly on his backburner, knowing full well you would never be the main thing in his life.

No matter how many times you say to yourself that it was okay, that you could handle it, deep down it ate you. There wasn’t anyone else you wanted, there hadn’t been for years. It was always him, it will always be Lando—his laugh, his voice, his stupid smile that made you forget the pain he caused by just being himself. You hated it, and yet you couldn’t even let it go.

Your memory reeled in to that one particular night, a night etched into your memory like a scar. Lando had called you on facetime, his face illuminated by the glow of his phone. His eyes were red, voice trembling with raw emotions as he told you what happened with Luisa.

She had hurt him again, made him feel small in a way that he couldn’t quite put into words. Lando looked so broken, so unlike himself, that it made your heart twist in ways that you did not want to admit.

And yet, you couldn’t help but tease him. You told him how he looked ugly when he cried, masking your own hurt with humor. But inside, there was a flicker of something else—something cruel and selfish. You felt happy that he thought of you in that moment, that you were the person he called when everything else in his life fell apart. It was sick and twisted, and you couldn’t have hated yourself more for it, but it was the truth.

At the same time, you felt conflicted, torn between two versions of yourself. Part of you wanted to scream at him, to tell him how much he had hurt you by treating you like an afterthought. But the other part of you, the part that still believed in him, in the friendship you had shared since you were kids—wanted to comfort him, to be there for him even if it meant breaking yourself in the process.

You always knew how it would go. In a week or so, Lando would be back on his feet, back in Luisa’s orbit, and you would fade into the background again. He would stop calling, texting, and you would be left alone again, waiting for the next time he needed you. You wished you could stop caring, that you could let him go and just move on, but you couldn’t. You cared too much, loved him too deeply, and it was destroying you.

You stayed. You stayed because even though it hurt, even though it made you feel small and invisible, there was still a part of you that believed in him. In the boy who had once held your camcorder, laughing as he filmed you spinning in circles in the park. In the friend who had always been there, even when it felt like the rest of the world wasn’t. You believed in him, even if it meant you couldn’t believe in yourself.

You checked the timestamp on the video and realized it was nearing the end. The final clips began to play, taking you back to a day you remembered so clearly—the beach trip. The screen filled with bright sunlight and sand, camera jerking slightly as Lando filmed you running along the shoreline, wearing one of his bucket hats and sunglasses, your laughter ringing out over the crashing waves.

You watched yourself as if through someone else’s eyes—carefree, alive, darting back and forth like a puppy with boundless energy. Lando’s voice came from behind the camera, teasing you for your antics, and you couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the memory.

It was one of those days you had hoped would change everything. Lando wasn’t thinking about Luisa then. He was with you, laughing, joking, making you feel like maybe you mattered more to him than you let yourself believe. You had clung to that slight flicker of hope every time he drifted back into your orbit, telling yourself that the moments he spent with you would eventually outweigh the hold Luisa had over him. But you know then, deep down, you knew better. You had always known better.

The last clip began to play. The two of you were in one of his cars, the camera shakily capturing the scene as he handed it to you. Lando had insisted you try driving it, grinning with the kind of reckless confidence that was so quintessentially him. You know that he hated someone driving him, especially that it was his car, but he didn’t even hesitated when it came to you.

The video was cut to him standing outside, filming you through the windshield as you tried to maneuver his car into a parking spot, and it was a disaster. He zoomed in on your face, flushed and irritated, as you waved frantically at him to get back inside of his car and help you. Your lips moved as you shouted something at him, your expression twisted in mock anger, but it only made him laugh.

That sound, the sound of his laughter—echoed through the room as you watched yourself scowling at him, completely oblivious to how the moment would look years later.

When the video finally faded to black, you sat there in silence, staring at the black screen of your laptop. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as a sad smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. The memories left a bittersweet feeling in their wake, filling your chest with an ache that never really went away.

You always knew the truth. You would always be in Lando’s corner, even when it felt like he had forgotten you existed. You would stay, waiting in the shadows, knowing full well you were his second choice, or maybe not even a choice at all. Yet, you couldn’t really bring yourself to care, you had settled on being Lando’s backburner long ago, content to exist where he had placed you, because even the smallest scraps of his attention felt like more than you deserved. You knew it would never be enough, but it was all you had.

When you left the UK, you had never properly said goodbye to Lando. You couldn’t face him—not after everything. It had been the hardest thing you had ever done, leaving the place where you grew up and leaving the person that mattered to you the most.

The day you were about to board the plane to America was supposed to be the start of something new for you. But it also turned out to be the same day Lando and Luisa had finally gotten together. It didn’t make sense at first, you had been too wrapped up in your own plans to notice anything strange.

You were so focused on your own future, dreams, and adventure that lay ahead. But the moment you realized what had really happened, the gut-wrenching truth hit you all at once. Despite everything, despite all the years of friendship, despite the deep feelings you had kept buried, Lando had never said a word to you.

The first sign came two weeks before your departure, when you noticed he had not contacted you. Not once. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had spoken, and then, one evening, it hit you. While youwere scrolling through instagram, lost in the sea of photos and videos, you saw it.

Lando and Luisa standing together in a sunlit paradise. They were everywhere—clinging to each other, smiling like they had always been this happy. Their arms wrapped around each other, looking like the couple everyone thought they were meant to be, living out the kind of romance you had always imagined for yourself—only, it was not with you.

It stung more that you could have imagined. It felt like a cruel grip and punch to the stomach—seeing them together, seeing him in a way you never thought you would. There they were, living life, having fun in Dubai, while you had been silently fading into the background, unable to say anything, unable to be anything more than just a shadow.

It suddenly made the decision easier for you. Maybe it was petty, or childish. But at that moment, it felt like it was the only way to protect yourself. You didn’t need to say goodbye, or talk to him again. You didn’t think that talking or saying goodbye to him would even change anything. You didn’t want to face the truth anymore—didn’t want to admit how much it hurts to be forgotten, be pushed aside while he moved on.

So, you did what you had to do. You packed up everything, every piece of your life that had been tangled with Lando’s, and left. You left without a word, without any explanation. The silence between you felt so final, so complete, as if you were never even meant to matter.

When you landed in America, you didn’t waste any second. You changed your number, blocked him on social media, deleted every trace of him from your phone, from your mind, from your life. It was easier that way, right? No more reminders of what you could never have. No more wondering if he still thought about you. It was better to start fresh, even if starting over meant leaving everything you knew behind. You never looked back, at least that’s what you told yourself.

You gently closed your laptop, the soft click of the screen snapping shut, and disconnected the camcorder. You wanted to throw it away, erase it from your life entirely, but something stopped you. Maybe it was the hope that one day, you could look at it without all the pain attached to it, or maybe it was the attachment to something that had once meant so much.

With a deep sigh, you placed it back in the memory box, careful not to let it settle to heavily among the other momentos you had packed away. You knew you wouldn’t be able to part with it—not yet at least. Instead, you pushed the box deeper into your storage room, where it would sit quietly for now, out of sight but never far from your mind.

You stood there for a moment, staring at the box as if it might somehow speak to you, but all it did was remain silent, like everything else in your life that you had tried to put behind you. The soft sound of snow falling outside caught your attention, and you moved toward the window, your gaze drawn to the soft flurry of while blanketing the streets below.

Christmas was approaching in just a week, and for a brief moment, you wished you could go home, back to your family, to the familiar comfort of the holiday season. But the thought quickly passed. Home felt too far now, and you had your own life to navigate, a life in New York that, for all its challenges, had become a place you had grown to love.

You turned away from the window and began to change, pulling on warm clothes fit for the snow outside. It wasn’t much, just a quick errand to stock up on groceries before it got too dark. You didn’t mind the task, it gave you a reason to get out, to take in the city and its wintry charm. The air was fresh and crisp as you made your way out of your apartment, locking the door behind you with a soft click.

The world around you was calm as you stepped out into the quiet of the snowy streets, snowflakes falling gently around you, almost like a veil between you and the hustle of city life. New York felt different in the winter, quieter somehow, even as the holiday decorations began to shine brighter. Streetlights casting long shadows across the snow, and you admired the festive cheer that the city wore like a second skin. You had seen the Christmas tree lighting at the New Haven Green just last week, a tradition that always brought a sense of warmth despite the chill in the air.

Walking through the snow, you felt a small sense of contentment, something you had been searching for but hadn’t fully realized was within reach. The lights, crisp air—all of it made you feel like you had carved out a space of your own here. You hoped that it would stay that way, that the peace you had found wouldn’t be disturbed, even as the holiday season and all its chaos loomed on the horizon.

The grocery store was just a few blocks away, but your thoughts drifted to other things—nothing too heavy, just the soft hum of city life. It had been a peaceful walk, but then, you froze.

Your eyes caught a glimpse of something, or rather someone, someone so familiar in the distance. Curly hair that you could picture in your sleep. At first, you thought it was a trick of the light, a resemblance that your mind conjured up after hours of rewatching old videos. You quickly dismissed the thought, trying to shake it off. It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t be here.

But then, as if the universe had conspired to pull the past back into your life. The person looked up, and everything in your world stopped. It was him.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. The air around you seemed to thicken, sounds of the city dimming in the background as you took in the sight of him. Lando. In New York. Of all places he can be in right now, why was he here?

It had taken a long time to convince yourself, year after year, that you were fine, that you had moved on, that everything was better this way. Yet here he was, standing only a few meters away from you, the same familiar figure that had been a part of your life for so long.

You both stood there, frozen in place, just staring at each other as people around passed you by. Neither of you moved, as if the moment held too much weight to let anything else happen. It was like time had bent around you, your mind racing, questions swirling, but none of them found their way to your lips. You couldn’t speak, you weren’t even sure you could breathe.

Lando stood there too, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that everything else feel irrelevant. You knew he hadn’t expected to see you. Not here, not like this. Yet, there he was—right in front of you, a ghost from your past made flesh, making the familiar ache in your chest resurface.

You had thought you were done with him, that you had moved on, but standing here, with him so close and yet so far, you realized that maybe you had not moved on as much as you thought.

The world around you seemed to hold its breath.

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY ; quinn hughes.

♡ ｡ﾟ･ pair: quinn hughes x fmc (madison, cindy kimberly face claim)

♡ ｡ﾟ･ word count: 52.1k

♡ ｡ﾟ･ synopsis: before becoming a world-known model, madison carter was someone else. she was quinn hughes’ best friend, and he was her favorite person in the world. until things changed and nothing was ever the same.

♡ ｡ﾟ･ what to expect: nsfw, childhood-friends-to-lovers, famous model fmc, hurt/comfort, shitty family but also! found family, angst, happy ending.

— author’s note: for young me, and for all the people who once thought that what they had wasn’t enough. spoiler alert, it was.

nhl masterlist.

— theme song: you too by chase atlantic.

main female character:

Madison Carter

— “do you know how much pain it took to make me this kind?”.

— makes the best blueberry pie in the entire world.

— does it smell like vanilla? spectacular give me fourteen of ‘em right now.

— dog lover.

— #1 fan of chocolate chip pancakes and gravity falls.

before you read.

0. warnings;

00. meet madison carter;

00.1. the first time you saw quinn;

00.2. the first time quinn brought you to his house;

00.3. the last time you and quinn saw each other;

chapters.

𖧷 chapter one

𖧷 chapter two

𖧷 chapter three

𖧷 chapter four

𖧷 chapter five

𖧷 chapter six

𖧷 chapter seven

𖧷 chapter eight

𖧷 chapter nine

𖧷 chapter ten

𖧷 chapter eleven

𖧷 chapter twelve

𖧷 chapter thirteen

𖧷 epilogue

after you read:

smau | quinn and madison through the years

[auroralwriting]

your beauty never scared me

spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

you’re scared no one will ever love and understand you, but spencer always has.

word count: 2.2k

warnings: a bit of unrequited love, comfort/angst/fluff, negative self thought, spencer is always a sweetheart, reader has a darker aesthetic

Maybe it was the fact that you came from a broken family from a young age. No, you didn't have a bad childhood, but it wasn't ideal for a young girl growing up.

It could have been the bad high school relationships, full of boys who didn't understand how to treat a young woman. Stuck at their stupid baseball games or waiting for them to finish their video game, sitting alone on their bed waiting for them to finish.

The most likely cause for your fear of love was simply the fear that no one would ever truly understand you, and therefore, never be able to love you right.

If you looked deeper, though, much further past the surface level, deep into the core, you would've realized that Spencer Reid had been there all along.

When you first joined the BAU, Spencer Reid was a typical little nerd, the glasses he wore even fulfilling the stereotype. His rambles about anything and everything were endearing, and lead you to begin your friendship with the man after he told you the history of your favorite movies.

"...its distinctive style with his signature blend of dark humor and whimsy. His imaginative vision, influenced by German Expressionism, is evident in the film’s surreal sets and exaggerated character designs. Burton’s decision to cast Michael Keaton as the chaotic title character and his encouragement of Keaton’s improvisation contributed to the film’s memorable, unpredictable energy. The innovative special effects and makeup, along with the creative set design by Bo Welch, further showcased Burton's unique approach."

By the end of his rant, Spencer had expected you to have been completely focused on anything else, but your eyes were trained on him, a small sparkle flickering in them.

"Spence, how do you know do much about Beetlejuice? You haven't even seen it before." you'd chuckled.

"I think Tim Burton is an interesting director. Maybe we could, uh, see it together sometime? If you want, of course." Spencer awkwardly fiddled with his fingers, the suggestion of the two of you hanging out outside of the work settle rattling his nerves.

You had given him a big smile, beneath your dark clothes and makeup was a heart of white and gold, a truly captivating soul. "I'd love to, Spencer! I own it, so you can come over whenever."

"Whenever sounds good," Spencer paused, thinking about what he had just said. "I mean, Thursday?"

"Thursday it is, boy genius." That name was usually reserved for making fun of Spencer, but the way you said it actually made his heart flutter.

Spencer would've never guessed that the girl, clad in dark clothing, the complete opposite of his own aesthetic, would be interested in hanging out with him. Then, it happened. And it happened again, and again, until you became friends.

Your friendship with the doctor grew. As you got closer, Spencer began to identify your fears and your tells. You played with your hair when you were nervous, bit the skin of your fingernails when you were anxious, tapped your foot or bounced your leg when you were impatient. He began to understand you on a deeper level.

It began to be the same for you. You knew his likes, dislikes, fears and worries. You understood his struggles with his mother and father, how sometimes this job didn't feel like enough until he made a true difference in someone's life.

Spencer Reid and you had connected in nearly a cosmic level, and that began to scare you.

It was two and a half years after Spencer had met you when he realized he had been falling in love with you for nearly a year. His small crush had grown exponentially. After Haley Hotchner's death, you'd taken in Jack for several days while Hotch planned the funeral and began to clean the house from the murders. Jack had taken to you quickly; he'd gone as far as to call you his favorite aunt.

Seeing the level of compassion and helpfulness you had displayed for Hotch made Spencer begin to realize that your friendship was beginning to move to the next level for him.

He began to think of you night and day, wondering what you were doing, how you were doing, what your plans were. He wanted to be with you, to feel your skin, linger in your existence. It wasn't until JJ had explained to him that that feeling he felt was love that he began to understand that you were in no place for him to admit his feelings.

Spencer never meant to profile anyone unless he was working, but he found it hard to not with you. He noticed your lack of dating, how even when you had the chance, you evaded it. He noticed your disdain to the notion of true love, or love at first sight, or even soulmates. It didn't take him long to piece together that it wasn't a hatred of love, no, it was a fear of it. However, he could never understand the why of the fear.

Now, you and Spencer had met five years ago. You'd both physically changed in looks over the time, but your friendship only remained and grew passionately stronger.

After the death of Emily, and finding out she didn't really die, Spencer had you as his rock. You grieved together, to the point that for three weeks, you lived with Spencer in his apartment. After you'd left, Spencer realized that he couldn't live without you anymore.

Spencer and you sat on his couch, the cold September month made you crave an early Halloween movie. So, Spencer put on his own copy of Beetlejuice he bought a few years back. The soft glow of the lamp cast warm shadows across the room, and the faint scent of popcorn lingered in the air. You could hear the distant hum of the city outside, blending with the soft rustling of the movie’s soundtrack.

"I like Adam and Barbara," Spencer hummed as he watched the screen. "They make a really good couple."

You nodded, "I guess they do,"

Spencer's brows furrowed at your words. "You don't sound convinced."

"I don't know," You shrugged, sitting up and crossing your legs. "He's sort of controlling over her. It's just too much, she's a strong woman."

"You mean he's protective over her in the afterlife filled with dead people they didn't even knew existed?" Spencer raised a brow, turning to you. "I'm pretty sure that's relatively normal."

Turning your attention back to the screen, you replied, "I guess so,"

Spencer sighed, finally deciding to ask you the question he'd been avoiding for too many years now. "Why are you so scared of love?"

His question made you turn back to him, a confused look on your face. "What?"

"You're so pessimistic about it. You always avoid dating, talking about it, anything to even do with love." Spencer explained. "I'm just curious, why?"

"Because, there is no way love that strong exists." You concluded, folding your arms over your chest. "That's why it's all in the movies. It's fake for a reason."

Spencer nearly chuckled at your words, finding himself in disbelief. Sure, he didn't really believe in soulmates, but he definitely believed in love. "Sure love exists," Spencer said. "True love has to come from somewhere to be spoken about. It's why its so deeply rooted into art and literature. Plus, with the psychological evidence of--"

"Okay, okay," You put your hands up in mock surrender. "I believe you, Spence." You'd never cut off one of his rants before.

"This bothers you," Spencer noted, his arms mocking your previous stance as they folded over his chest. "Why does this bother you so much, what aren't you telling me?"

You let out a huff of air in reply, your defences kicking into full gear. "Why do you care so much?"

Spencer stuttered over his words, “Uh- because it clearly affects you! It’s not hard to notice your dislike of it, and I want to know.” Spencer defended. He could see it in your eyes, though. You were too good of a profiler to not know he was lying through his teeth.

“The real reason?” You sharply replied, hating that Spencer was lying.

“Because I’m in love with you,” Spencer’s voice was filled with desperation. “Here you are, constantly belittling the idea of love when that’s all I want to give to you, and I don’t understand why.”

His words cut you like a knife. You hadn’t expected him to say that, let alone feel it. It almost made you feel guilty. “No one has ever understood me, Spencer. I don’t want to settle for just anyone who will pretend for their whole life that they know me when deep down they will never be able to understand who I am, what I need.”

“You think I don’t?” Spencer challenged. He tried not to feel offended at your words, truly. Yet they hit him like a slap to the face. He felt like he understood you.

“Okay, prove it then.”

Spencer was ready for this, “Your least favorite cases involve those with divorced parents. Not because of the affect on their children, but the affect it takes on them. You hate to see when it hurts one of them, or both.” Spencer’s first claim was true, and it caught you off guard. “You hate anything with a pumpkin scent, however, you enjoy real pumpkins because of their look rather than their scent. You bite your lip, tap your foot, shake your leg, all when you feel negatively.”

“Anyone could profile that,” You weakly replied, feeling thrown off at Spencer’s careful acknowledgment of your little tells.

“Are you afraid of love because no one will ever understand you, or because you’re scared you’ll never find someone who will.” Spencer finished. He watched as your mouth opened and closed, the words not quite making it out. “I see you, I hear you. My favorite thing is when you tell me things about yourself, your day, your feelings. Any day without you is a bad day and any day with you is a good one.”

Spencer’s words left your heart beating faster in your chest as you began to realize this is what you were looking for all along, but your own fear that you would never find it blind sighted you to the truth. The truth that Spencer Walter Reid was in love with you.

Spencer often recalled his own struggles with relationships, remembering the long hours he spent studying while his peers socialized. With him being so much younger, he had no way to truly connect with them. The sense of isolation he felt growing up made him cherish the connections he built later in life, driving him to seek genuine understanding and affection. On the other hand, your own problems with family and bad relationships drove you to hold a near-resentful feeling to love. It made you feel like it was something you could never have. That was something Spencer was beginning to see from your perspective.

"Please," Spencer's voice was softer, more vulnerable as his eyes pleaded with you. "say something."

"I'm sorry," you breathed. For a moment, Spencer thought you were about to reject him, until he saw the glistening tears form in your eyes. "I-I should've known sooner."

Spencer nearly chuckled, "I didn't want to make it too obvious."

"Spencer?" you asked.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"Why do you love me?"

Your question made his heart nearly crack at the raw fragility your tone held. All he wanted to do was to take you into his arms and sing you sweet nothings until you believed him, but right now that wasn't an option. "I love you because you're unapologetically you," Spencer's reply made you finally lock eyes with him. "You're so sweet and kind, you never try to hide the things you like and dislike. You're so bold and brave. You make me feel so alive, so wanted. Every moment with you is a reminder of how extraordinary it is to be around someone who radiates such genuine warmth and enthusiasm."

"You really love me?" Your voice felt meek in comparison to how your normal assertiveness and bravato sounded. Your heart felt three times bigger in your chest as a tear dared to slip down your cheek.

Before it could even leave your eye, Spencer brought his sleeve over his hand and soaked it up gently with the cuff. "I love you with every part of me."

"I think I want to love you, too." you admitted. It felt hard to say those words, to finally give into your darkest, most vulnerable desire of unwavering love.

"Even with your fears, you're beautiful." Spencer softly reached to graze your cheek. "This, your fears, nothing could ever scare me. I'll teach you to let me love you if I need to."

"That better be a promise," you slightly chuckled, holding your pinky out to the man.

Spencer smiled, locking his pinky with your own, "It's a promise."

As you held Spencer’s pinky in your own, a sense of peace settled over you. The weight of your fears began to lift, replaced by a tentative hope. "Maybe love isn’t as impossible for me as I thought," You whispered, reaching out to hold his hand. Spencer’s smile was both a promise and a comfort, signaling the beginning of a new chapter in your lives.

[illyrianbitch]

One Summer — Part Two

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: One beach house. One festival. One summer to fall in love.

Warnings: brief mentions of alcohol, cass & mor being bickering siblings, cass with facial hair, modern adaptions of bat wings aka tattoos, sexual n romantic tension, reader has a big fat crush

Word Count: 5.5k

Part One — Series Masterlist — Part Three

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

“I hate it.”

Though Mor was seated beside you, her voice seemed to reverberate from a great distance, oscillating from one ear to the other. Your attention was not on your two best friends; their conversation filtering through your senses like white noise. Instead, your mind was entirely captivated by the view of the beach you sat on. The sun was setting and a golden hue painted the skies, its final light skittering across the soft waves of the ocean.

This was always one of your favorite times of day.

There was a specific sense of peace that seemed to settle among everyone as the sun gave over to the power of the moon, a peace that almost felt tangible on your skin, like the grains of the warm sand beneath you. You dug your toes further into its warmth as Mor scowled next to you, her gaze stuck on the horizon where Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys currently ran around, attempting to pin one another and throw each other into the waves.

The topic of conversation was what it had been every time Mor complained over the past week: Cassian’s new mustache.

It had grown exponentially over the last week, now fully formed above his top lip. Even from this distance, you could make out its shadow. But, in all honesty, it wasn’t his mustache that you were focusing on. It was his chiseled, bare torso.

The boys were always very fit, sporting defined bodies with even more defined muscles. But you hadn’t seen them like this in a while: shirtless, sun-kissed, tanned skin, and swimming shorts that created sleek, stark tan lines along their hips. Not since way back in the first summer you all shared. Last year’s break was filled with an internship to beef up your resume, moving into your new place with Mor and Feyre, and spending whatever free time you had with Eris and his family— far, far away from Mor.

The boys had grown even bigger since that first summer. Cassian, in particular, had developed noticeable definition, which you attributed to ROTC and his various sports activities. After all, ROTC combined military training with college coursework and demanded a significant amount of time and discipline. Balancing academics, those military duties, and being a student athlete seemed like an overwhelming feat, but Cassian managed it all. His physique was a clear indication of it.

Yet, despite his impressive build, it was Cassian’s face that truly drew attention. His large, beaming grin had a way of captivating anyone who saw it. It seemed to say more about his character than his muscular frame ever could, making it clear that beneath all that strength was someone incredibly approachable and genuinely good-hearted.

Your attention traveled to Rhysand next. Rhysand always held a certain grace to him, a regal essence of someone born to be a leader, to stand out among a crowd. You’d watched him come into his own in the past few years, watched as he fell in love with Feyre and began planning a life for himself outside of the pressures his father had implemented throughout his childhood.

Rhysand’s usually meticulously styled hair now hung in front of his eyes as he dodged Cassian and went under his arm. He was always a bit leaner than Cass, but still very built, with large, defined muscles that Feyre giggled about every girls' night. Rhys knew how to put those muscles to use, Feyre seemed to remind you every time she was three margaritas in. You didn’t doubt it, even if you and Mor groaned and pushed her further off the couch—and watched as she fell to the floor since Feyre’s balance tended to disappear when alcohol was introduced to her nightly diet.

Despite every fiber in your being begging for your gaze to fall to him first, your eyes went to Azriel last. You’d been fighting the urge, telling yourself that if you looked at him last, your eyes could linger just a few seconds longer.

You were currently mesmerized by the tattoo sprawling across his back.

The design was captivating—an elaborate pair of wings stretching gracefully across his shoulder blades, with their apex extending along the sides of his neck. The wings seemed almost alive, their fine details appearing three-dimensional against his golden skin. The spaces around the wings were filled with swirling patterns that looked like shadows, moving fluidly as though they were dancing across his skin.

The wings didn’t stop at his back; they extended over his biceps and down to his elbows. When he moved his arms, it almost seemed as if he was preparing for flight, the tattoo coming to life with every gesture. Cassian’s wings mirrored this design, stretching over his own biceps and elbows in a similar fashion. However, the empty spaces on his arms were adorned with sharp, angular patterns. Where the patterns on Az’s skin were fluid, like smoke and shadow, Cassians were rigid, sharp lines like that of a fierce fight.

Rhysand’s tattoo was distinctively more reserved. His bat-style wings were intricately etched into his back, spanning from his shoulder blades to his lower back, but they remained tightly confined to his torso. Unlike Azriel and Cassian, the design didn’t extend onto his arms. Instead, it was tattooed in a tucked, retracted position. Besides the wings, Rhysand’s collarbone was adorned with an elaborate tattoo of stars and swirling patterns that mimicked the night sky, with galaxies appearing to shimmer and shift across his skin.

Your eyes stuck to Azriel’s moving form— glued to his every gesture, really.

Azriel was always very cute. Handsome and pretty in a way that made chests tighten. But you hadn’t seen it much recently, hadn’t paid attention to anyone besides Eris, really. Now that you were broken up, it was as if you were seeing things in a completely new light, with new glasses that magnified every detail of the males around you. The reality was undeniable: Azriel had gotten more attractive over the past two years.

It was unfair. Completely and utterly unfair.

And you were completely and utterly overwhelmed by it— more so than you’d ever expected. God, you needed to check yourself, to reel in this strange crush that had begun to bloom like a flower in a new spring. You felt feral. It was embarrassing, to say the least, and you were grateful that your friends were often too absorbed in their own lives to notice your lingering glances.

Your fingers itched to trace the intricate ink on Azriel’s skin. You settled for running the pads of your fingers along the bare skin of your knee, mimicking the graceful movements of his tattoos. The act was a poor substitute for the real thing, but it helped channel the sudden urge to connect with the beautiful art that adorned him.

Feyre let out a hum besides Mor. From the corner of your eye you caught sight of her tilting her head in quiet focus. “I don’t know,” she said after a moment, “It’s not that bad.”

Mor whipped her head to the side, her blonde locks cascading across her shoulder like a golden waterfall. She let out a shocked gasp.

“Feyre,” she scolded, “You can’t be serious.”

Feyre raised an eyebrow in response. “I’m serious. I’ve seen worse. It works for him, I think.”

Mor’s attention shifted to you. It took a minute before you were able to tear your gaze away from the view in front of you— the three boys illuminated by the soft glow of sunset; the delicate waves behind them that collected the remaining colors of the sky.

You turned to look at her, taking in her widened eyes and pursed lips. It was an expectant face, one she wore when she was waiting for important news— or in this case, for someone to agree with her. You offered a sheepish smile and shrugged, pulling your knees closer to your chest.

“Sorry girl, it’s kinda growing on me, too.”

Her mouth fell open and another dramatic, shocked gasp left her mouth. She returned her gaze to the view before her.

“It’s like I’m the only one with taste in this entire house.”

You snorted, turning to look as Mor shook her head in disbelief. Your gaze connected with Feyre’s as you leaned over slightly and you watched as her mouth curved into an amused smile, a small laugh leaving her delicate lips.

“You have a completely different taste than both of us, Mor. Maybe that's why you feel so passionate about this topic.”

Mor shook her head again, waving the comment off with an elegant hand— long red painted nails on every finger except for two: her ring and middle finger. The same style was mirrored on her other hand, currently at her side and playing with the sand.

“Actually,” Mor started, and you rolled your eyes at the tone of her voice, a smile tugging stronger at your lips. “It’s because I’m into girls that my opinion here matters the most.”

Your attention drifted back to the boys who had finally ceased their game. They were catching their breath, hunched over and panting, before gradually making their way back.

Cassian reached you guys first, his steps falling from a jog into a soft walk before he came to a complete stop. He brought his hands to his head, smoothing down the top of his pulled back hair and readjusting his bun. Then, he placed his hands on his hips as a grin broke out on his face, eyes trailing between you, Mor, and Feyre.

“Whatcha ladies gossiping about?”

His voice was still ragged from the running, coming out in a long breath and followed by a deep one. Mor frowned at him, crinkling her nose as she scanned his appearance.

“We’re talking about that disgusting caterpillar of facial hair you’ve forced us to endure the sight of.”

Cassian’s grin faltered. “Excuse me?”

Mor only raised a brow in response— a challenge. Cassian accepted wordlessly, crossing his arms across his bare chest and jutting his chin out defiantly.

“Don’t be a hater, Mor.”

She scoffed. “Hater is my middle name. Consider this a reality check: Shave.”

Cassian considered her response for a moment, lips pursing in feign contemplation. Nope,” he said, a hand caressing his mustache. “You’re just too stubborn to admit you might actually like it.”

Another scoff. Offended and insulted all at once, the presence of those emotions fully present in the sound as it left her lips. “There are many words to describe the way I feel about that monstrosity you’re touching. ‘Like’ is certainly not one of them.”

You tossed a glance over at Feyre. She caught your gaze, eyes glistening with a quiet amusement as she tugged her legs to her chest, her sitting stance mirroring yours. She placed her chin on her knee, eyes drifting back towards the two bickering adults.

“You’re so dramatic. This ‘stache isn’t for you, anyways. You’re not the population I’m aiming for.”

“And who, pray tell, is the target audience? Divorcees in soon-to-be foreclosed homes?” A raised brow. “Republicans?”

This conversation was one you’d heard almost every day since Cass had decided to grow his ‘stache out, opting to only shave his beard. The argument held the same structure everytime. Mor would complain that it was gross and an eyesore, offer a new metaphor to describe it, and insist that Cassian shave it off. Cass would wave it off, act offended, and explain his reasonings once more to her deaf ears. It’s for the indie girls at the festival, Mor, Cassian had whined two days prior, They’ll go crazy for a pornstache. It’s a trend now. Mor only complained more in response, groaning in disgust and telling him she was going to shave it in his sleep.

As the argument continued, Azriel and Rhysand finally approached. Rhys raised an eyebrow at the bickering duo, a knowing smirk spreading across his face. He flashed you a grin before flopping down next to Feyre. With a playful shake of his head, reminiscent of a wet dog, he sent droplets of water flying. Feyre let out a startled shriek and pushed him away, her eyes sparkling with annoyance as Rhysand’s laughter filled the air.

Meanwhile, Azriel approached slowly, the last rays of the setting sun casting a faint glow on his figure. As he neared, Cassian turned his attention to him, desperation evident in his eyes.

“Hey, man, help me out here,” he called, a hand extended in Az’s direction. “Tell her it works. Back me up.”

Azriel gave him a steady look before shaking his head. “I’m not going to do that.”

Mor let out a triumphant laugh. “Aha!” Her eyes glimmered in satisfaction. “Even Azriel agrees with me!”

Cass kicked a spray of sand towards her in response. It scattered in all directions and you sputtered, grimacing as the gritty texture found its way into your mouth and eyes. With a groan, you brushed it off, watching as Cassian’s face dropped and concern flashed across his widened eyes.

Both him and Azriel muttered curses under their breath, the two starting to move towards you. But Cassian was faster. With a swift motion, he plopped down beside you, arm reaching out to pull you into his side.

“My bad, my bad,” He said, his voice laced with sincerity as he tucked you against him, his damp arm warm around you. He gave you a reassuring squeeze, though you still felt the remnants of sand clinging to your skin.

You squirmed a bit, trying to escape his sweaty embrace, but Cassian held you close. Over your hunched back, he shot a glare at Mor. “See what you made me do?”

She squeaked. “What I made you do?”

“Yes you.”

Your cheek pressed against his chest, squished near the area where his arms met his torso.

“I didn’t force you to kick sand at me with your big ass feet,” she huffed.

A new argument arose, Cassian leaning further over your back to bicker with Mor face to face. The more enthusiastic he became, the farther he seemed to shove you into his form. You looked up and managed to meet Azriel’s gaze, widening your eyes in a plea for help.

He understood the look immediately. The corners of his lips twitched upwards in amusement as he stepped forward, knocking Cassian’s muscled calf with his foot.

“Cass,” Azriel said, “You’re suffocating her.”

It took him a moment to register the words. But when they finally hit, Cass sprung back, holding you out with his arms in a movement so swift you blinked to reorient yourself. He examined you with the same observant eye as a parent, looking over your exposed skin as if he was searching for any open wounds or deformities.

“My bad,” he repeated. He gave you a guilty grin as brought his hands to smooth down your hair. His large hazel eyes met yours, widened and soft like that of a puppy. “All better.”

You gave him a look— brows raised and scrunched, a deep crease forming in the middle of them.

“Get outta here,” you muttered, pushing his warm body away from you. But despite yourself, a small grin hung on the corners of your lips.

You still felt Azriel’s eyes on you— that faint warm sensation that filtered through your skin. You met his gaze momentarily, watching as his eyes bounced between all of you. He settled back on the large teddy bear next to you.

“Help me start the fire,” Az said, calling Cassian’s attention back to him. Azriel looked at Mor next, gesturing towards her with his chin. “You too, judgy.”

“What?” Mor paused, hands freezing mid motion of wiping sand off her thighs. “Why me?”

“Because you’re mean,” Cassian said, bringing a hand to stroke his mustache. “And mean people do labor.”

Rhysand snorted. You had almost forgotten Rhys and Feyre were sitting there, quietly in their own world until Rhys leaned back on his hands with a grin, obviously enjoying the argument.

Azriel rolled his eyes. “Get up, c’mon.” He gestured with his hands, herding them both like sheep. Mor let out a grumble but began to push herself up nonetheless.

“I’m getting up because I want to. Not because you told me.”

Cassian was in front of her before she managed, offering a large hand out. “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Let's go.”

She threw him a scowl, but the act had no malice behind it. Taking his hand, she muttered, “This would be much sweeter if you didn’t look like my creepy uncle Chris.”

Cassian just groaned.

Thank you, you mouthed when Azriel met your eyes once more. The corner of his eyes crinkled as he gave you a soft smile. Something deep within your chest flickered, like a candle being lit aflame. He dipped his head in acknowledgement before trailing after the two.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Forty five minutes later, you found yourself seated around a crackling fire, the sound of Rhysand's offhand joke eliciting laughter from everyone.The night had fully descended and the sky above was dotted with dim, flickering stars. You’d all discussed the summer, the festival, and your plans for the month. It was a summer of living, you’d told them. A summer to sit back and let life do with you what it may—and hope that meant all good things.

The stretch of beach was empty except for your group. Whether Rhysand and Mor’s family owned this area or the rest of the world had simply decided to stay in, you weren’t sure. Either way, you were appreciative.

Cassian was beside you, but your attention was solely on Azriel, who sat next to him. The firelight played upon his skin, casting a warm glow that accentuated the sharp lines of his face. The embers illuminated his hazel eyes with a brilliance that made your breath catch every time he laughed.

Azriel met your gaze, his features softened by the dancing flames, and your heart skipped a beat. His mouth moved, forming words, and it took a moment for you to realize he was speaking to you. You blinked, the spell breaking, and slowly forced yourself to focus, bringing yourself down from the reverie you had drifted into.

“Are you cold?”

Azriel’s voice rolled over you like a small wave and you shivered at the sensation. You looked down at yourself and realized, for the first time, how the night’s chill had settled in. Goosebumps had risen on your skin, more pronounced than you had initially thought.

“Just a little,” you admitted, running your hands along your arms in a vain attempt to generate warmth. The friction offered little relief and you exhaled softly. “I can just move closer to the fire.”

You repositioned yourself, moving to scooch closer to the fire that illuminated your faces.

“Nah, don’t do that.” Cassian said. You turned to find him watching you, his gaze steady, shadows of flames flickering on his features. He gestured back towards the house with his chin. "I have a hoodie in the living room if you want to grab it."

You considered his idea for a moment, then nodded in agreement. It was a sensible suggestion. Placing a gentle hand on Mor’s shoulder, you let her know you’d be right back. She smiled in response, her eyes warm in the flickering firelight.

You brushed off your pants and walked towards the house, your feet sinking slightly into the still-warm sand with each step. The contrast of the cool night air and the lingering warmth of the sand created a soothing, almost nostalgic sensation as you made your way to the living room.

The dimly lit interior welcomed you with a cozy, muted glow and your gaze fell on the kitchen counter. There, amid Azriel’s keys and a variety of Rhysand’s rings, rested a camera.

You took a moment to examine it—a digital model. While you weren’t particularly knowledgeable about cameras, this one was nice; reminiscent of a simpler time. You weren’t exactly sure if it was the design that made you feel that way or the person that owned it: Azriel.

You knew without a doubt that it was his. You could also assume, with a fair degree of confidence, that the camera could beautifully simulate the look of film.

Azriel had mentioned his burgeoning passion for photography two years ago, expressing a particular fondness for the aesthetic of film. He’d said that a true film camera was beyond his budget at the time, but a digital model with film simulation would be an ideal compromise. Rhysand and Cassian had gifted him this very camera the following Christmas. From what Mor had told you, Az never felt comfortable enough to pick up the passion— kept telling her that he hadn’t found his muse yet.

"Hey."

Despite how soft the voice was, you still jumped, placing the camera back down on the counter as you turned to face Azriel. He always had an uncanny ability to move silently, almost as if he emerged from the shadows themselves. It was unnerving at first, but there was a certain comfort found in his stealth now. His presence wasn't loud. You appreciated it.

"Hi, Az." You smiled sheepishly. "You're so quiet. It's crazy."

The corners of his lips twitched upwards. Azriel’s gaze softened slightly, his hazel eyes now glowing with a gentle amusement.

“Sorry,” he said, accompanied by a small laugh. He moved around you and made his way to the fridge. It opened with a small clatter, the glass bottles stacked on the door moving with the movement. He pulled out a few bottles of beers.

“You agreed to be the errand boy?” you asked, a hint of playful reproach in your voice.

Usually, the boys argued over every action; who would grab the next drink, who would drive while the others drank— the options were endless. It was often settled with a game of rock, paper, scissors, or a classic nose-goes. Azriel always seemed to come out on top.

He glanced back over his shoulder, a casual shrug punctuating his response. “If I didn’t, no one would.”

His voice was quiet– steady. You studied his movements, taking in the details of his tattooed back that were too small to appreciate from a distance. He turned around, walking forward to place the bottles on the kitchen counter across from you.

"You could be a spy, y'know."

Azriel raised an eyebrow skeptically, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that suggested he was both amused and intrigued. You returned the gesture, leaning forward on your forearms. The kitchen counter was cold against your skin and you felt a slight chill run through your body.

“You don’t agree?” you asked.

He met your gaze through his lashes and shook his head, a lopsided smile playing on his lips. The curls otop of his head bounced with the subtle movement and the warmth in his eyes reflected the gentle glow of the dim kitchen light.

“Nah,” he responded. He popped the caps off the bottles. “Don’t know if that fits me.”

“I think it does. You’re an observer.”

“Careful,” Azriel warned with a playful edge. His voice was smooth in a way that made you clench, tone low and unintendedly seductive. “Don’t make me sound like a creep.”

”Okay, what would you like me to say instead?”

He contemplated. “I just like to people-watch.”

You had to stifle a chuckle, finding his self-description almost endearing in its simplicity. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that actually sounded worse— at least to you. Instead, you reached to the side, grabbing the camera that had been in your hands a few moments prior. "This kind of people watching?"

For a moment, you both stood in silence as you stared at the camera in your hands. When you looked up, you focused on Azriel’s face. His eyes traveled from the camera to your eyes, and in that moment, there was something alive in his gaze—an intensity that seemed to make the room itself disappear. Something warm and comforting.

“I remember you talking about wanting to get into photography,” you said, your voice softening with genuine warmth. With a smile, you extended the camera toward him. “I’m glad to see you’re pursuing it. At least for the summer.”

Azriel’s smile widened slightly as he reached out and took it from your hands, the brush of his fingers against your skin sending a pleasant shiver through you. Your smile grew deeper into your cheeks, pulled at the edges by his very touch.

But when the camera was finally in his hold, something seemed to change in his gaze, as if the weight of the it in his palm was transferred to a weight on his chest. He let out a small sigh.

"Don't get your hopes up,” he murmured, “I haven't taken any pictures yet."

He placed the camera back onto the counter with a slight thud, the sound echoing softly in the quiet kitchen. You gave him a face.

“It’s barely been a week,” you said, trying to keep your tone light. “Six days to be exact.”

“That’s already a week behind.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, a small laugh leaving your lips. Azriel seemed to lock onto the sound, eyes glittering as his hand found the beer bottle again.

“Seriously?” You leaned against the counter, crossing your arms in a playful gesture of mock indignation. “It’s been six days and you’re already considering yourself behind schedule?”

He gave a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “It’s not just about having the camera. It’s about actually using it. I had high hopes for this week.”

“Sometimes its okay to just enjoy the moment, Az.”

He leaned in slightly, his eyes twinkling with playful intensity. You felt a catch in your breath at the way his expression shifted. It was enough to remind you that Az wasn’t just kind and attractive; he was a suave college boy when needed.

“Ah, but the burden of my artistic aspirations are too great,” he said, his voice low and playful, “How will I ever manage without my schedule?”

A comedian, truly. You raised an amused eyebrow. “And I’m the Type A one?”

"You are." He grinned. "Who counts the days they've been on vacation for, anyways?"

"Okay that's not fair."

Azriel chuckled and walked over to a vase on the counter. The vase, a clear, simple one that had come with a bouquet of flowers for Rhys’s mother, was part of a collection Azriel started—a small yet meaningful tradition of saving bottle caps from vacation. You took the opportunity to glance at his back again, taking in the intricate tattoos that adorned his shoulder blades. The designs seemed to pulse with life against his skin when they caught the light.

“It’s cool seeing all of the details in your tattoos. I never really noticed them before.”

Azriel turned slightly, his gaze meeting yours as he considered your observation. “Is this you admitting that you’re staring at my naked back?”

“Do you want me to be staring at your naked back?”

Azriel dropped the caps into the vase and walked back towards you. He gave you a nonchalant shrug, his mischievous smile lingering slightly on his lips, casual and knowing.

“It’s hard not to stare,” you added, tracing idle patterns onto the counter, unaware of how the motions mimicked the swirls on Az’s skin. “You, Cass, and Rhys have the most ink out of everyone I know. My eyes naturally gravitate.”

“And here I thought my back was special.”

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks and you quickly looked down at the counter, hoping it would hide the color spreading across your face. Your smile was so wide it almost hurt. You met his eyes once more. They were already on you.

“I will tell you that your wings seem a bit bigger than Cass or Rhys’s.”

Azriel’s grin widened at your response. He leaned forward, resting on the counter and lowering his gaze to meet yours. “Don’t tell them that.”

He took a swig of his drink. You watched the path of the liquid down his throat, tracing it to his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. You cleared your throat, laughing softly. “Never.”

He looked at you for a moment, gaze soft and contemplative. A thoughtful glaze found his eyes, as if he were lost in deep reflection.

“What?”

Your voice came out meeker than intended.

“I’m just really glad you’re here.” Azriel said. His voice was sincere, carrying with it a weight that made you pause.

You sucked in a breath. “Me too. It’s nice to be around you guys. All of you.”

“Would I be a dick if I said that I’m glad you and Eris broke up?” Azriel paused. “Because now you can be here with us.”

You bit back a smile, your cheeks warming slightly. “Maybe just a tiny bit.”

But the corners of your lips still twitched upwards, forming a lopsided smile.

He shrugged, a casual grin returning to his lips. “In that case, consider it thought, not said.”

You smiled at him, feeling a nervous flutter in your chest. The dim light of the kitchen seemed to cast a warm glow around him, making his features appear even more inviting than usual. He looked soft now, and you found yourself struggling to understood why, at one point, you were unbelievably intimidated by him.

Freshman year you would be having a heart attack now, truly. You could still feel her deep down in your mind, beginning to hyperventilate with excitement.

You looked down shyly, trying to steady your racing heart, and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before pointing at the beers.

“Do you need help with those?”

“Sure,” he replied with a grin, pushing one towards you. “I can never say no to you.” His words sent a rush of warmth through you, and you bit your lip to prevent your smile from growing even more. Forget alcohol— subtlety is what you needed more of. He rounded the kitchen counter.

As he neared you, he paused, his eyes flicking to your forehead. Placing the beers back down, he reached out, his fingers hovering inches from your skin. You scrunched your brows in confusion, blinking rapidly as his face came closer to yours. His touch was feather-light, so soft it was almost imperceptible, yet it sent a shiver down your spine all the same.

“What—” you began, but the words caught in your throat.

“There,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. He brushed something from your temple, his fingers lingering for a heartbeat longer than necessary. You felt your cheeks heat up, a growing blush spreading like wildfire.

You couldn’t help but imagine how Azriel must be with those he loved beyond friendship—how his gentle gestures must perfectly soothe the hearts of those he held dear. The soft touches, the attentiveness, the small actions that made Azriel so uniquely himself. The thought lingered as he pulled away, rubbing his fingers with a small, smile.

“Some sand,” he said, his voice casual, but the warmth in his eyes gave it a softer edge.

You managed to breathe out a thank you, the breath escaping you in a soft rush. Another shiver ran through you, not just from the chill, but from the unexpected intimacy of his touch. You stared at the counter, hoping it would hide the flush on your cheeks and the way your smile made your cheeks ache.

Azriel seemed to have a sudden realization. “Aaand,” he said, turning on his heel and walking briskly into the living room. Moments later, he returned with a small jog, tossing you a hoodie. “It’s mine, not Cass’s, but hopefully it’ll work.”

The hoodie smelled faintly of him—an understated blend of his personal scent that made you feel a little warmer. You took it from him, the fabric soft and reassuring against your fingers.

“Thanks,” you said, smiling as you pulled the hoodie on.

“Ready?” he asked, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he grabbed the remaining beers.

You nodded, following him back outside. As you stepped into the night, you couldn’t shake the lingering warmth on your temple. It felt as if the very spot on your head held an imprint of his touch, a marker of his fingerprints.

You smiled for the rest of the night.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Part Three

authors note: this series is the only thing keeping me going rn, just two sweethearts with crushes on each other and a lovely beach….and cass with a pornstache 😏

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @panther-girl-124 @bubybubsters 

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia  @ninthcircleofprythian @velariscalling @azrielrot

@justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli @mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound

@melissat1254 @m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers

[kaiijo]

DATES WITH HIM — [WIND BREAKER]

characters: suo hayato, kiryu mitsuki, umemiya hajime, hiragi toma, kaji ren, togame jo content: gn! reader notes: i did not come up with the date idea in suo's! also i recommend reading the mentioned works in suo’s part and listening to the song in kaji’s! obvious togame bias i’m sorry (but i’m also not)

suo hayato ✶ bookstore date

you saw the idea of a bookstore scavenger hunt date and it was too cute to resist. with your list in hand, you and suo make your way to your favorite neighborhood bookstore. the old lady who runs it greets the two of you before attending to other customers. suo leans over your shoulder to look at the first item. “find a joke to make your partner laugh.”

you make your way to the joke book shelf, where suo picks up a paperback titled 100 dad jokes to make anyone bust a side! he flips through it and lands on a page. “which days are the strongest?”

“i don’t know, which ones?”

he stares at you dead in the eye as he answers, “saturday and sunday. the rest are weekdays.”

you can’t help but snort and roll your eyes, and suo says, “we’re counting that!” and you check it off the list because you don’t know if you can take another cheesy dad joke. 

you read out the next bullet point: “find a puzzle to conquer together.”

you find and complete a crossword puzzle in a magazine (you kept the magazine with you to buy later). your scavenger hunt list leads you through the travel section to talk about your dream vacation spots; the children’s section where you find your favorite childhood books; and the cookbook aisle where you find a recipe you both want to cook together. finally, the last task challenges you to find a poem that describes your partner.

you and suo split up in the poetry section for that. you thumb through pages and pages but nothing is able to capture just how you feel for suo. you find one finally just as he walks over to you, a poetry anthology in hand. you read to him kevin varrone’s “poem i wrote sitting across the table from you” and he recites joy harjo’s poem “for keeps.” 

your heart feels like its about to burst as he finishes and you take his hand in yours, bring it to your lips for a kiss. his gaze is soft as he leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead.

kiryu mitsuki ✶ arcade date

you pout as you watch the final pac-man score flash on the screen in big, pixelated numbers: 150 to 170. kiryu ruffles your hair affectionately. “we’re all tied up again,” he says. “two to two. what do you want for the tie-breaker?”

you peer around the arcade, glancing at the flashing screens of various games. there’s street fighter, space invaders, and other classics but it’s the air hockey table that catches your eye. you nod at it. “settle the score over good old-fashioned air hockey?”

“sounds good,” he says and you two make your way over to it.

just as you arrive, another couple shows up. “oh, shit,” the other guy says when he and his girlfriend approach at the same time. 

“sorry,” you say. “you guys can have it if you want.”

“no, no, you two came first,” the girlfriend says.

“it’s seriously fine!”

“no, really, it’s cool!”

you’re all at a standstill, neither party willing to takeover the table. instead, kiryu pipes up, “there are four pushers, why don’t we play on teams? a friendly competition.”

“i’m down!” the girl smiles and turns to her boyfriend. “what do you think?”

“i say we crush ‘em!”

“ooh, those are fighting words!” you call, looping you arm through kiryu’s. “ready to kick some ass, mitsuki?”

“always.”

the competition is fierce — the other couple is a lot better than you thought and you’re playing best of seven rounds. it’s the tie breaker and you narrowly manage to block a shot from the other guy. the puck bounces off the sides, hurtling across the board towards kiryu, who easily deflects it back. the volley goes back and forth and there are far too many times it almost sinks into their goal.

the other couple just blocks a shot again and the puck is heading for you. you hit it at the right angle and it just ekes past the defense, sliding into the goal to end the game 4 to 3. you congratulate each other on a good game and kiryu sighs, “i guess that settled the score between us too, huh?”

“what do you mean?”

“you made the winning goal.” he holds out the tickets he’s won. “let’s go get you a prize.”

umemiya hajime ✶ farmer’s market date

“whoa! these squash look so good! how did you grow them? did you plant them in may or june?” umemiya’s eyes are wide and bright as he listens intently to the farmer’s answer. you don’t think you’ve seen him this excited before, which is saying a lot given his enthusiasm for almost anything. 

she smiles warmly at the two of you, asking, “how many would you like?”

“three,” you reply, reaching for your wallet, but umemiya is holding out the money for her before you can even open your bag. 

the farmer shakes her head, gently pushing his hand back. “it’s on the house,” she says, plucking a packet of seeds from a small wooden crate at the edge of the stall. “and i’ll throw these in too, all free of charge!”

“oh, please, we insist,” you begin to protest but she just shakes her head again. 

“it’s been a long time since someone has been this curious about my produce,” she chuckles, “and i’m not about to make a lovely young couple pay for this! all i ask is that you two raise the squash lovingly.”

“we will, i promise,” umemiya says, taking the bag of squash from her. as you two continue through the farmer’s market, umemiya interlocks your fingers, using his other hand to motion to the other stalls you pass. 

he says, “we have tomatoes and cucumbers already but we need mushrooms! oh, those look good!” he already leading you to another vendor, surveying the cartons of wood-ear mushrooms. you raise a brow in amusement as he buys five cartons, humming a cheery song. 

“what’s all this for, again?”

he beams at you. “the summer barbeque!”

“ahh, right!” you smile. “the infamous summer barbeque.” you glance around the market, pointing out a stall selling sausages and other meats. “i think we’ll want to get some protein, then, since your boys eat enough for a hundred men.”

“babe, you’re a genius!”

hiragi toma ✶ cooking date

make dinner at home for date night, they said. it’ll be fun, they said. you think anyone who said this is a fun, stress-free date is a total liar.

“alright,” you sigh as you clean the frying pan of egg residue for the third time. “well, fourth time’s a charm!”

hiragi pops a stomach tablet out of its packaging and chomps down on it. “you said that the last two times.”

“this one’s going to be the one!” you chirp, reaching for the egg carton. “it has to be, since these are our last four eggs.”

hiragi lets out a long, heavy breath before slipping his apron back on. “okay, one more time.” 

hiragi throws a large tablespoon of butter down the pan, tilting the pan from side to side as the melting butter coats the surface. you crack the four eggs into the measuring cup and beat them with a whisk, tipping a little drop of it onto the butter. it sizzles promisingly and you and hiragi share a glance and nod, then you pour the eggs in.

you stir the eggs quickly with a pair of chopsticks, stopping as you see the omelet beginning to smooth. hiragi tilts the pan to let the uncooked egg mixture start to cook, doing his best to keep the curds even and level. 

the new portion of eggs scramble and you spoon your chicken rice mix into the center of the omlet, roughly shaping it into an football-shape as hiragi kills the heat. “good?” you ask him, motioning with your chopsticks at the pile of rice.

“good.” he lifts the pan. “hot pan, coming through!” he places it on the damp rag on your counter. you slide the omlet to the edge of the pan, carefully wrapping the rice with egg on both sides. hiragi’s already moved to get a plate and you hold your breath as he slides it carefully onto the plate.

success.

you let out collective sighs of relief. 

kaji ren ✶ concert date

you had spent hours in an online queue to get kaji tickets to see his favorite band for his birthday. luckily, the venue isn’t too long a train ride from makochi but when you severely undersold how many people can cram themselves into the venue.

kaji’s grip is firm as you weave your way through the crowd, pushing closer to the stage. some guy jostles you, grumbling under his breath, only to apologize when he faced kaji’s cold glare. your boyfriend manages to get the two of you to a decent spot near the front, just off right of the center. 

“what song are you most excited for?” you ask him, speaking as close to his ear as possible. the din around you is getting louder and the crowd more electrified, so you know it’s starting soon.

“wasted nights,” he replies easily. 

you hum, “that sounds familiar. it’s on the playlist you made for me, right?”

his mouth lifts into a small smile. “yeah, i think it’s number eleven or twelve.” just as he is about to add something, the lights around you begin to flash and pulse as the ambient music dies down. the band comes out to thunderous cheers as they take up their instruments. 

even though you don’t know the band well, you can’t help but jump and dance with the crowd, and you sing along to parts you can remember. kaji’s not one for rowdiness himself but he thrives off the energy from it — you can see it in the way he bobs his head in rhythm, the way he seems completely in his element. as the fourth songs in the set transitions into the fifth one, a slower ballad this time, he wraps an arm around your shoulder and pecks your cheek. “thank you again,” he says. “i’m glad i’m here with you.”

you burrow further into his side, swaying to the music. “happy birthday, ren.” 

togame jo ✶ pottery class date

you tilt your head as the pottery wheel slows to a stop, examining the mug you were instructed to make. the rim is uneven and it’s leaning towards the left. togame’s isn’t any better given that his mug looks shorter and stouter than the rest of the class and the handle is fully too long. when the pottery teacher walks over, she offers a sweet smile. “beautiful work,” she says. “they both have a unique charm to them.”

“thanks, we totally meant to make them this way,” you say and she carefully brings them to the shelf where the other attendees’ mugs sit waiting for the kiln. 

oddly enough, seeing your mugs together makes them look somewhat normal, almost like an eclectic set, and when you glance at togame, he meets your eyes and you two try to suppress your laughter, togame’s broad shoulders shaking with effort. as you stand side by side, washing your hands in the classroom’s sink, togame smirks. he reaches over and claps a hand on your shoulder, leaving a large, damp terracotta-colored handprint on your shirt. 

you narrow your eyes and do the same, this time on the side of his own t-shirt. his hand touches your back and yours grazes his chest. you could probably do this forever but someone clears their throat behind you and you apologize as you actually finish cleaning up, stepping aside for another couple to wash themselves off. 

togame drapes an arm around your shoulder as you leave the building, saying, “i think i won, babe.” 

you know he’s talking about the stains all over both of your clothes but all you do is smirk at him. “i think i won, actually, since this is your shirt.”

he shrugs. “i wish i could be mad, but you look too good in my clothes to complain.”

bonus!

you return two weeks later when your “unique” mugs are primed for glazing. you two agreed to keep the final designs on your pottery a surprise so you sit as far away from each other with your backs turned. in the end, you two had similar ideas — he chose your favorite color as a background and painted on a pattern of your favorite flowers while you glazed your mug in orange and black with an attempt at a the lion face on the shishitoren jackets, albeit yours is way less threatening and much cuter. 

your mugs sit in each of your cabinets at your homes in all their uniquely beautiful glory, your new favorites — well-used and well-loved. one day, they’ll be together again, side-by-side in a cabinet that you two shared together.

[hwanchaesong]

Folklore: A Trilogy (August)

Childhood friend!Jake X F!Reader

Synopsis: Ever since you left home to pursue the city life, you really did think that everything was over. Then you returned, and you still see him there. Will something rekindle and burn inside you once more?

word count: 24.6k

genre & warnings: fluff, angst, smut, childhood friends, kind of slowburn, summer love/fling au, this fic is taylor swift inspired (maybe you'll also see other song references but who knows), mentions of bullying & childhood trauma, cursing, drinking, party/festival, country side & small town settings, fights, jealousy, built up sexual tension, implied situationship, lies lies lies, sop (with bf!sunghoon), cheating (zont zo this, stay loyal!), oral m&f rec, fingering, nipple play, dry humping, overstimulation, creampie, kitchen sex, bedroom sex lmao, multiple unprotected (wrap before you tap!) sex scenes, appearance of other idols, & reminder!! the idols' characters here do not mirror real life! not proof read! etc etc mdni

a/n: this is the first part of the Folklore: Trilogy, which focuses on Jake aka our August. also the longest fic that i have ever written for now 🥲 and yes, i changed the 'aesthetic' moodboard bc i am obsessed with this kind of layouts lately 👺

ps. likes, comments, reblogs are all appreciated! let me know what you think y'all. thank you so much and enjoy! 🩷

🎧 playlist

You stretched your back, muscles cramping from seven hours of traveling, drawing in the conventional briny ocean breeze that passes through the air as you stepped onto the sandy sidewalk, opening the brown gates and the creaking metal alarmed the people inside the building of your arrival.

"Well, aren't you home earlier than expected?" your mother greets you, giving you a welcoming hug when you enter the house and you take notice of something delicious wafting around your nostrils.

"Yes, there wasn't much traffic on the way here," you returned her embrace after dropping your bags on the floor, "and I smell something good." you remarked, heading towards the kitchen to find your dad bustling in front of the stove and your little brother mixing something in a bowl.

"They're chefs now." your mother jokes, following you in the kitchen and making small talk when the men of the house told you two to sit back and relax, to let them do the work this time.

"Wow dad," you peeked over his shoulders and you almost drooled at the delicacy he's concocting, "your cooking skills have greatly improved."

"Me too!" the youngest of your family spoke, walking over to you and nudging you with his elbow, "Look, I made your favorite dessert."

You lovingly ruffled his hair and ignored his complaints, knowing that he secretly loves it, "You're doing great as well, Riki."

You assisted with setting the table, sitting down in your usual spot and helping yourself to a large portion of food, wolfing the grub with the utmost gratitude because seriously, dorm and university meals kind of suck.

While eating, your mother decided to bring up a topic that you dare say, plain horrendous and tedious, "Now that you're here, you should come with us to the town fiesta before your summer break ends."

You groaned, not liking the idea of spending your beloved summer around other people, only wanting to be a couch potato, to sleep, eat and play games all day long.

"Don't be like that!" your father chides, eating a spoonful of the tiramisu that Riki made before speaking, "Besides, your old friends will be there. Aren't you excited to see them?"

Old friends. Pft.

Can you even consider those people your friends when all they ever did during your elementary and highschool years was to approach you whenever they needed something?

You hated them, really, they are one of the many reasons why you were determined to depart from your hometown. You only come back here from time to time because of your family. The moment you set foot into the city, you've already cut those stupid, snarky bitches in your life.

"Come to think of it, Jake will be there." Riki added, then you paused.

Jake? The aussie boy whom you've spent most of your childhood with? The same Jake who gifted you the largest teddy bear that he won in a shooting range in a local carnival?

You cautiously peered at your brother, asking him a mindless question for good measure, "Jake with a government name of Sim Jaeyun?"

"Yep, good 'ol Jake. Do you know that I'm taller than him now?" he snickers, visualizing the older boy's rage if he hears that comment.

"He's still here?" you asked once more, because surely, you thought that he's gone by now. Back to Australia to pursue a career there, it's what he has informed you before going your separate ways for college.

"Of course, where else would he be?" Riki side-eyed you then realization flashed on his face, "I get it."

"You get what?"

"You missed him." he wiggled his eyebrows teasingly that it had you slapping his shoulder in an attempt to terminate his annoying ass down.

"I don't! I was asking because he told me that he w-"

"Excuses, excuses." he cuts you off, waving his hand around dismissively, "I'm so gonna tell him that you missed him so dearly."

"Really?" you crossed your arms over your chest, a challenging aura radiating off of you, "Go ahead then, guess I'll give the clothes I bought to Sunoo and Jungwon."

He whined, you gave him the cold-shoulder, he pulled your hair, you yelled at him and you nearly went nuts when he licked your spoon filled with the last tidbits of the chocolate goodness. (which he knows is your pet peeve.)

Before a fight breaks out, your parents ushered you both to your respective rooms, saying that they'll take care of the dishes. Rubbing their foreheads and saying something along the lines of 'sibling dynamics never change.'

While showering, you pondered over the invitation, maybe you should go. Check out what's new, totally not because of a certain someone... you think?

Jake was your closest companion back then, a kind person with a heart of gold. If anything, you'd call him your true friend. He made you laugh, shared his food with you, and did everything together; attached to the hip like you two were born from the same seed.

Not until he told you that he's moving back to Australia to attend a university that he's been dreaming of since he was young.

You remembered crying yourself to sleep that day, then you made the decision to study in the city because there is no way in hell you'll survive college life here without your one and only friend.

So it really was a surprise to you when Riki revealed that he's still here. Does that mean that moving out was nothing but a mistake on your part? Does that mean that you could've stayed here and lived a peaceful life instead of hustling in a swarming city?

You shook your head, 'Y/N, don't be silly.' If you didn't explore outside your small town, then you wouldn't have the chance to meet him.

A giddy smile crept up your lips at the thought of your boyfriend. One day, you'll bring him here and he'll definitely love the area, especially the lake when it's frozen so he could skate on it, then you'll be there beaming then-

You slapped your soapy cheeks with both hands, scolding yourself for daydreaming, 'Stop being a delulu! It's only been a few months since you started dating him!'

You quickly rinsed and dried your hair, changing into some of your comfortable childhood pajamas and letting yourself fall into dreamland.

---------------------------------------------------

"What the fu-" you must have resembled that one Morty meme when he woke up, because who on earth is making all the noise downstairs when it's... oh, it's 1 PM. Dang, you slept that long? Like a log even.

You went to the bathroom and freshened yourself up, and when you deemed yourself presentable enough, you headed down to check what the commotion was about.

You definitely heard Riki shouting, but there is someone else. A voice that is eerily familiar but is somehow foreign to your ears.

You steadily walked into the living room, ceasing when you detected a mop of long black hair sitting next to your brother's shorter one.

"Huh?" you unconsciously uttered, catching the attention of the boys who are currently playing Mario Kart.

"Y/N?"

The rotation of the earth seemed to slow down when you saw him again.

There he was, the old friend that saved you from a gloomy childhood.

"Jake?" you hesitantly called out, making him smile, nodding his head in your direction before standing up and lurching towards you for a bone crushing hug.

"Y/N!"

"Jake!"

You hugged each other for what felt like hours, disconnecting when Riki cleared his throat, standing up from his position on the couch and retreating in the kitchen, "Imma go and fetch us some snacks, call me when you're done being lovey-dovey."

You rolled your eyes at your sibling's sass, returning your attention to the sunny boy in front of you.

"How are you? You look great!" he beams, tightly holding your hand in his while he scans you from head to toe.

It kind of made you self conscious, wishing that you should've made an effort to dress better but hey! He's your sweet, lovely Jake, you’re assured that there's no ill intention behind his stare.

"I’m good, busy with college and all. How about you? You look fine as heck!" you answered him with all the sincerity that you could muster, especially at the last part of your statement.

He looks great, like really great. You’ll even say that he’s transformed into an actual disney prince.

You do hark back to him being one of the rare good looking bunch of kids , but boy, did you not expect puberty to hit him like a bullet train.

Given that Riki is taller than him (man did not lie), his visuals are insane. He retained his puppy-like eyes, prominent cheekbones that were the result of his baby fats disappearing, his tall nose and jawline that are now sharper than a knife, and his lips.. his godforsaken lips. It's fuller and thicker, and not to mention, his beige skin is glowing.

He's a totally different person from what you can remember, and the more you observe him, the more you discern how much of a man he became. Only did you realize that you were blanking out when his phone rang, and being the nosey person that you are, you couldn't help but peek at the caller.

'Yuna.'

Oh, so he has a girlfriend. Well, you should have expected that. A pretty boy like him would surely bag any girl that he wanted.

"Right, I'll be there in ten." he ended the call and turned to you with an apologetic smile, "Guess we'll continue this talk later."

"I don’t mind, no problem."

Perfect if you say so, it'll give you some extra time to relax and sink the newfound information in your brain, that your childhood friend grew up into a dashing, debonair man.

"Here, give me your number so we could easily communicate." he hands you his phone, allowing you to type and save your contact.

"You're leaving?" just then, Riki emerges from the kitchen, holding a tray of munchies and setting it on the coffee table.

"Yeah, sorry man, I need to do something."

Riki side-eyes his friend with a sarcastic hum. (you think that side-eyeing people is his new habit from the amount of times he did it within a short span of time.)

"Do something or do someone?" Riki haphazardly asked, making Jake glance at you nervously, an awkward chuckle erupting from him.

"It's not like that," he glances at the clock, clicking his tongue and bidding his goodbyes, "I gotta go now. Y/N, I'll text you later."

He waves at you both, bolting through the door and Riki lets out a sardonic laugh, "Look at that fuckboy, so ready to get his dick wet."

"Hey," you pinched Riki's cheek, earning yourself a pained drone from him, "watch it. Since when did you learn vulgar words like that."

He swats your hand away, "Since birth. Ouch! Stop it!" he protests when you start pinching him more, not appreciating his raw sass.

"But really, he's a fuckboy now?" you inquired, flopping on the couch and grabbing a cookie from the plate, chomping on it while you watch Riki pour some juice for you two.

"Why? Are you jealous?" he teased, doing that same taunting eyebrow wiggle that you hate so much.

"I will literally choke you." you threatened, making him raise his hands up in surrender.

"Simmer down." he sat next to you, exiting Mario Kart and opting to play some anime on Netflix, "I don't know if it's true or not, but word from others is that Jake's been screwing girls since last year."

"Is that so?" you nonchalantly replied, listening to your brother gossip but then you got lost in your own thoughts.

The rumors are bad, but you somehow can't bring yourself to believe it. In the short amount of time since you've left, maybe some things have really changed. You wouldn't know, you weren't here to witness it.

You shrugged and watched the anime playing on the tv, something about a reincarnated slime. This is a good distraction instead of waiting for Jake to text you.

---------------------------------------------------

You don't know what came over you when you heard your phone go off, the message notification sound making your heart skip a bit. You hurriedly got off your vanity and laid down on your bed, gripping the phone and opening the text.

'Hey Y/N! Jake here, this message is kinda late, so sorry, I got caught up with something.'

You smiled and saved his number, typing in a reply... which you didn't give much consideration to and now you are regretting your uninhibited decisions for sending that.

You (8:45 PM):

Got caught up by your girlfriend? Who was she again, Yuna?

Jake (8:46 PM):

You saw that?

Noo, it wasn't like that I swear. I helped her fix her brother’s computer. She is just a friend, nothing more, nothing less.

Again, you don't know what came over you as you rolled over your bed, staggering at the fact that he's explaining himself even though he’s not required to. And you guessed you took too long to reply when your phone buzzed, signaling that he's calling you.

You straightened your back, clicking the green button, "Hello," his voice sounded gruff over the speaker, "are you mad? Promise, she's not my girlfriend or anything. Please don't be mad."

Straight to the point, you see, and his chatterbox personality still comes out whenever he gets mousy about something.

"Jake, chill out." you giggled when you heard his relieved sigh from the other side, "I'm not mad at you, I just did something for a while." you lied, "Besides, why would I be angry if you got a girlfriend?"

There was a beat of silence before he spoke, "I mean, we did make a promise back then so.." he trails off, and the flashback about your salad days takes over.

"Promise me that I'll be the only girl in your life!" you cried, smacking little Jake on the head.

"Ack!" he yowled, his tiny hands flying to the stinging area of his skull.

You were being unreasonable, but the thought of losing Jake to that ugly girl in class 2-A made your younger self throw a tantrum. Wailing like a toddler while stomping around the empty playground.

"Y/N! I didn't do it on purpose! She touched me first!" Jake tried to explain, sprinting to you when you accidentally tripped on a rock, face planting on the dirt, "Are you okay?!"

You hurriedly sat up, not wanting to look weak despite your crying and looked at him, staring at his teary eyes, maybe you are being unfair to him.

You sniffled, wiping your tears away before mumbling, "Just promise me."

Jake sighs, dropping to his knees in front of you and holding his pinky finger out, linking it with yours forcefully but with care, "I promise you, in the name of all my ancestors, that you'll be the one and only girl in my life!" he exclaims, giving you a toothy smile that immediately soothes all your stupid concerns.

"Well, except for my mom and Layla... and maybe some relatives."

You bit your lower lip, heart rate speeding up, "You haven't forgotten about that? We're like, what? Eight?"

"I take my pinky promises seriously!" he declares, making you laugh heartily at his mindless yet captivating jest.

"So, wanna catch up? Let's hang out at the beach." he suddenly proposed, catching you off guard. You peeked at the clock, it's nearing 9 PM but oh well, you're old enough to do this, unlike before that you had to sneak out of the house just to meet up with him.

"Yeah sure. Just give me a few minutes." you agreed and he happily cheered, the call ended after that and you hurriedly stood from your bed; Fixing your hair in the mirror, making sure to spray a decent amount of perfume and tiptoeing out of your house, trudging the road for a seven to ten minutes stroll to the beach.

When you arrived, Jake was already there, fixing a blanket that you assumed he brought so the two of you can sit comfortably instead of getting sand on your buttocks.

"Hello, kind sir." you greeted him like a princess, bowing to him gracefully.

"Hello to you too, mademoiselle." he takes your hand as he mimics the bow that you did.

"You speak french now?" you razzed, resting on the blanket first and tapping the space beside you.

"I was trying to go along with whatever skit you're doing." he says, his tone sprinkled with some attitude but nonetheless still sat beside you.

The atmosphere was tranquil as you both stared at the clear night skies, letting the evening wind blow through your faces, bringing a sense of solace that you really missed.

Until your mouth itches and you break the congenial quietude, bringing up the topic that has been bothering you.

"Say Jake," you started, staring right ahead and disregarding his sparkling eyes that he directed at you when he heard your voice, "you told me that you're going back to Australia for college. It really was a surprise that you're still here. What happened?"

He averted his gaze when you went and returned his stare, "Nothing. Just.. something came up, so my parents told me to stay here instead."

You frowned, your guts telling you that he wasn't telling you the entire truth, but you ultimately decided to let it go for now. You don't want to make him uncomfortable by pushing him to open up to you, knowing that it's been a while since you two had hung out.

Heck, you think- no, you believe that he's closer to your brother now.

You let out a sigh, giving him a covert smile and patting his back, "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Nah, it's fine." his mood shifted into a lighter one, seizing your hand on his shoulder and clasping it into his, "Aside from that, I'm glad that I didn't leave, because if I did," he squeezes your hand, his warmth seeping through your bones, "I wouldn't be able to see you again."

For the nth time that night, for whatever mysterious reason, you went and reciprocated his actions, squeezing his hand tighter, sitting next to him closer, and smiling blithely at him, "Welps, I'm here now." you whisper, and you swear you saw something twinkle in his irises.

"You are." he smiles back, releasing your hand and slinging an arm over your shoulders, "That is why we need to make the most of it, okay?"

You hummed, leaning on his side and snuggling under his hold.

You’ll later say that you missed him, that’s it. You missed your friend, the person who stuck by your side despite your annoying and messy ass.

There's nothing wrong with spending time with a person that you had regarded as your human diary, the person that you once held feelings for. That was all in the past, for now, you'll catapult your qualms away and enjoy the moment.

When it was getting colder, Jake offered to walk you home, laughing like some elementary schoolers while trudging to your house, talking about the dumbest shit you had done during your juvenile years.

It was nice, it was always nice being with him. A sense of warmth within you knowing that you're safe when you're with him.

The reminiscing went to a halt when you stood by your humble abode's gates, "Welps, I'll see you again soon." you stood awkwardly, like you wanted to say more, to do more, but you don't know what words or actions there are to say or do. 

Finally, Jake took the initiative and stepped towards you, enveloping you in his arms and wishing you a good night before parting your own ways. 

As you lay down on your mattress, drowsiness lulling you to sleep, you couldn't help but think about the light pressure on the crown of your head when Jake hugged you.

You chose to remain ignorant, along with the thunderous thumping of your heart in your chest.

---------------------------------------------------

"Oh my god! He's a hottie!" Sunoo exclaimed, gaping at the picture on your phone.

"Let me see!" Jungwon dropped the other side of the shirt that he's been vying for with Riki, making the younger stumble on the floor, the other dashing on Sunoo's spot on the couch.

Your brother groaned, rubbing his stinging buttocks that made contact with the cold wooden tiles, "That fucking hurt."

"Language, Riki." your scolding fell on deaf ears as he continued muttering curses under his breath, directing such vile words to his friends.

You, Riki, and his childhood friends’, Jungwon and Sunoo, are currently in the living room, busting out the souvenirs that you bought for them when the topic of your boyfriend was brought up. (courtesy by the pocketz.)

They were whining to you, begging you to show them a photo, to which you shyly presented your phone up, your lover's social media account opened and ready for them to rubberneck at. It was safe to say that they were awed by his visuals, except for your bratty younger brother.

"I'm much more handsome than him," he comments, draping his body all over the boy who's holding the gadget and looking at the image as well, "bet I'm taller than him too."

"Shut up. Is height your only way of hyping yourself?" Sunoo rolled his eyes, shoving Riki off of him and letting Jungwon grab the phone and have his turn of stalking your boyfriend's instagram account.

"Wow, Y/N, your man looks like he came out straight from a manhwa." Jungwon stated, "And no, sorry Riki, I love you but there is no way you're more handsome than this guy."

"Whatever." Riki gave it up, choosing to hide the shirt that he's keeping tabs on from the corner of the box that made Sunoo shriek, yelling that he already called dibs on the piece of fabric.

Jungwon returned your phone back to you, going over to his friends and joining the chaos.

You chewed on your lower lip, staring at your boyfriend's picture. He does look ethereal. Standing in a field, looking sideways to subtly flex his side profile, and to top it off, the mixture of bright orange-blue hues of the skies highlight his sharp, charming visuals even further.

Your dopey smile was difficult to fight off, suddenly missing him and wishing for him to appear out of nowhere so you could hug and kiss him.

"What's the commotion all about?"

A wild Jake appears, infiltrating your home with a grin and scanning the area before sauntering to the venue of the ruckus You quickly close your phone, tossing it on the table and giving the aussie a side hug when he flumps on the unoccupied space beside you.

"These boys are bickering over the clothes that I bought." you explained, answering his question as he scrutinized the three idiots who kept on fighting over a hoodie, ignoring his existence in the room. "Apparently, they love these kinds of styles."

"I bet they do. Look at them going crazy over a pink hoodie." Jake derides, kicking Jungwon on the butt and chastising them for not even sparing him a glance when he popped up in the room.

"Sorry, didn't see you there hyung." Jungwon nonchalantly says, the other two temporarily paused and muttered an uninterested 'hello' before going back to their serious business of sorting outfits.

"Wow, really these guys." Jake sighs in displeasure, a grimace on his face as he watches the youngsters, "How long have they been at it?"

"About.." you trailed off, peeking at the time, "two hours now. It's getting kinda boring."

Jake pondered for a while, after a minute or two he turned to you and fished out his car keys, dangling it in front of you with a smirk on his face and hazel orbs full of mischief, "Whaddya think of a ride around town?"

You blinked at his spontaneous behavior, shrugging and pretending to think about the suggestion even if you already had an answer, "Sure. I mean, there's nothing much to do here."

Jake cheered and made a dash towards his car, mumbling something about revving it up and you have to come quick. You shook your head endearingly at his excited demeanor, truly like a puppy.

You went to follow him but not before telling the boys who are, until now, arguing over the mundane things about your souvenirs, "Y'all, I'm going out for a while. Look out for the house while I'm gone, and don't destroy anything while mom and dad are not here too."

You stood there for a while, observing their squabble, then you chose to drop the formalities since they're too centered in their own world to even give you the time of their day.

"No, I'm telling you, this is my size!"

"You're too puny for this, c'mon man, be serious."

"I ain't the size of your dick."

"Wha-! Say that again you fuckhead!"

Truly a pandemonium, you purse your lips and rubbed your forehead, shooting your parents a text about your whereabouts and leaving the house altogether because some children just won't listen.

Something scintillated within you when you saw Jake patiently waiting outside, leaning on his car and playing with his phone.

You took your time to extensively admire him, finally seeing him in a holistic perspective.

Him, standing there with his leather jacket, clad in an all black outfit down to his shoes. His charcoal tresses flowing the same way as the wind and oh, how he glows under the glittering rays of the afternoon sunlight is blinding you.

He's flawless.

"Yoi!" you snapped out of it when he called for you, opening the passenger door and motioning for you to get on. 

You hurriedly went in, suspiciously not making eye contact, making you miss the knowing look he sent you. Now, you tried to relax, sitting on the leather seat but my god... his scent is so strong inside, it invades all of your senses, making your hands clammy.

Jake went and sat in the driver's seat, laughing when he saw you struggle to put on the seatbelt. He bent over to your side to help you out, brushing against your hand in the process.

"Your hands are sweaty." he remarked, then raised an eyebrow, "Are you.." he peeked at you from under his long hair, batting his lashes at you, "Nervous?"

Well that did the trick. You were caught red-handed and you’re not quite sure on what to or not to do, stumbling over your words to try and explain yourself.

"Hey, hey, calm down."

You took a deep breath. He's close, too close as he's still hunched over to you. Faces mere centimeters from each other but you need to be brave, gazing into his mellow eyes and feeling yourself settle when his hands enveloped yours, "It's just me, okay?"

"Right." you giggled nervously, "But no, I wasn't nervous. I was only out of it. You know, 'cuz I'm tired." you tried to play it cool like you weren't losing your mind just a few seconds ago.

He, at long last, moved away from you, letting go of your hand and starting to drive away.

"Really now?" he asked, a sly smirk on his lips but it was wiped off and was replaced with a pout when you, shockingly, flipped him off. (he did not expect you to do that, earning you a whiny "Since when have you been so violent?" from him.)

In your defense, flipping someone off is not a sign of violence, but rather an off-handed way of showing affection.

---------------------------------------------------

The trip went smoothly, you weren't anxious like a shivering chihuahua anymore, allowing you to appreciate the beauty of your hometown.

There were a lot of recently developed things.

New buildings, new attractions, and you even saw a glimpse of the upcoming jubilee; the stalls and decorations are a total giveaway.

"Woah, I was gone for a bit and changes like these happened already." you remarked, surprised at the amount of transformation in your settlement.

"Like they say, change is inevitable." he replies and you couldn't agree more. "By the way, can we go somewhere as our last destination?"

The sun was starting to set, the time for you to go home was getting close because your parents made you promise to join them for supper. But it's okay, one more location with Jake won't hurt.

So you agreed, letting him drive while you close your lids, enjoying the salty breeze from the ocean and letting the current of air brush your hair and skin, relishing in the serenity that you barely experience in the city.

After a few minutes, the vehicle went to a halt, hearing Jake murmur a small 'We're here.' made you open your eyes, and you were greeted by the familiar view.

"Oh my god, Jake!" you grinned, running towards the small, dinky wooden house that stood in the middle of the wild grasses and flowers. A rush of happiness flowing in your veins at seeing your 'secret base.'

You gasped when you entered, Jake following closely behind, you couldn't believe what you were seeing.

"Yeah," he bashfully puts his hands inside the pockets of his ripped jeans, biting his lips whilst he inspects your expression, "I took care of our secret base all this time. Corny, I know, but I really wanted to keep this in good condition."

He rambles and you listen, walking around the expanse of the room and true to his words, the four corners of the house are basically spotless. Despite the rust forming around the edges of the metals and a portion of the wood being eaten by some kind of insect, everything is still the same.

"Are you kidding me Jake?" you spun on your heels and ran to him, pulling him into a bear hug and burying your face in his chest, "This is like, the best thing that ever happened to me ever since I came back here!" you exclaimed, staring up at him gleefully.

He lets out a relieved sigh, returning your amity with the same fervor, "I'm glad, I thought I was way overboard with this."

"Pft. No way!" cue you trying to do his Australian accent, breaking the hug and proceeding to jovially push him away, "But genuine question here, why did you go all the way and take the job of being the caretaker for this supposedly tree house." you jokingly quoted the word 'tree house' with your fingers, making Jake hoot in laughter at the hidden agenda of your sentence.

"We really did our best to make this a tree house, unfortunately, we were too dumb to figure out how to build a damn house. Good thing your father is a good carpenter." he chuckles, recalling the memory of how and why the miniature flat was built.

"No, but really, the thing was.. I, ah fuck-" he runs a hand through his silky strands of inky locks, his ears turning red and your heartstrings were pulled by his adorable mien.

What your younger brother told you suddenly echoed in your brain, "Jake's a fuckboy now."

Yeah, he might be, considering the amount of girls that kept on clinging to him while he toured you around the metropolis. You saw a glimpse of it, his flirty persona, but right now, you firmly believe that he's still the same Jake that you knew.

Jake Sim, the guy who befriended you when no one else was willing to because apparently, you were a freak during your girlhood. The same guy who always protected you, stopped you from making poor life decisions that you'd probably regret sooner or later.

The same guy who took you to prom during your senior year, the one who gaped like a fish when he saw you all dressed up, a large grin on his face while he complimented you throughout the night nonstop. The one who never left your side and danced with you during the said event, not glancing at any other women's direction and focusing on you and only you until he couldn't take it anymore and kissed you on your front door.

Jake Sim, your first friend, first kiss, and inescapably, first love.

"Tell me." you urged him, cupping his face and staring right through his worries, "You can always be honest with me."

Jake visibly gulped, his hands moving on its own and engulfing yours that are planted on his cheeks.

"I wanted to preserve the memories." he admits, his eyes softening at your astonishment, "This was the place where we started our family, with our daughter Layla."

You snickered, "Layla.. how is our daughter doing?" you asked, suddenly curious about the adorable dog's whereabouts.

"So now you remember her?" Jake rolled his eyes, but still answered you nonetheless, "She's doing fine actually, she missed you a lot."

"She did?"

"Yeah, she missed you." the volume of his voice dropped, almost purring, raspy and feathery, tickling your insides, "Even her father missed you, if we're going to be blunt here."

"And who is the father?" you inquired, not noticing that Jake guided your hands towards his shoulders, his own palms gliding down your hips and gradually tugging you close to his body.

"Me, I'm the father."

You were too engrossed at the melodrama-like scene that you're starring in, not having the ability to discern that your faces are inching towards each other every ticking second.

*ring ring*

Like a wake up call, thanks to your phone, the two of you jolted and immediately separated, breathing heavily and thinking 'What the hell just happened?'

You answered your phone, your mom is getting dramatic because it's late and she's hungry, telling you to go back home right at this instant.

"Let's go, I'll drive you back." Jake's voice was distant, seeing that he's already outside, waiting for you to exit the house.

The journey back to your residence was a complete 180 of the atmosphere from when you both left. It was taciturn and morose, so much that it made you want to walk back home instead.

When he parked right outside your gates and you were about to offer him goodnight and farewell, he promptly gripped your wrist, preventing you from escaping the auto, "I'm sorry, back there, I.. I didn't know what came over me."

"No, no, it's fine. It was an accident." you say, but then you heard him mutter something, but you couldn't quite hear it. So you asked him to repeat himself.

"I said," he took a deep breath, "I want our friendship to be just like before. If that's okay with you."

You smiled, flicking his forehead as a way of telling him that everything is okay, "I would love that, you doofus."

---------------------------------------------------

Jake watches you enter your home before going off on his own apartment but not before stopping in an vacant road and banging his head repeatedly on the steering wheel.

That was so shitty and uncool of him.

Almost kissing his friend— his friend that has a boyfriend.

He sighs, shutting his eyes and repeating a mantra in his brain, 'Don't do that ever again.'

He barely managed to save the night, a poor attempt at that, thankfully, you're nice enough to let things pass and accept his proposition of rekindling what's supposed to stay in the past.

This is fine. It's foolish of him to think that he's something more to you. So he'll accept the fact that you'll always see him as your friend.

Even if he wants to love you, even if loving you is a complete necessity for him. He'll bury all of those, hidden in his box of filtered feelings and emotions, because once he lets go of his restraints, he'll lose you.

Dear lord no, the mere thought of losing you makes his stomach churn in a not so nice way, evoking the bile to rise in his throat.

Again, he convinces himself that he doesn't need anything else but to have you in his life.

"Jake, keep your shit together." he opens a compartment, looking intently at a bracelet made out of shells tucked safely in a clear glass box.

Wanting you was, is, and will always be more than enough. 

---------------------------------------------------

Undeniably, your parents nagged you for being late to the family dinner, but you paid no mind to them, opting to eat your food at the speed of light and locking yourself in the privacy of your room, throwing your body on the comforts of your bed.

Once inside, you felt like you could breathe again, all the substandard smoke inhaled from earlier finally out of your lungs. You were dizzy from everything that happened today, and you want nothing more but to combust at the mixed emotions that are brewing up.

You almost kissed Jake, for fucks sake. The thing was, you liked the way he looked at you, the way he held you, the way h-

You gasped when your phone rang, guilt running through your whole system when the screen lit up with the words: 'Hoonie 🐧'

You took a deep breath, collecting yourself for a moment before grabbing your device and answering the video call with a giddy smile and shaky hands.

"There she is, my baby, the love of my life, my wife, m-"

"Hoonie!" you whined, cutting the voice off which made the person on the other line chuckle, his loving eyes glimmer when he saw you blush.

"What? Am I not allowed to shower my baby with love?"

You giggled, lying properly down the bed and lifting your arms up so your phone would be directly facing you, letting you admire the man that you proudly call yours.

"Of course you can. How's your practice over there?" you asked, wanting to know his life’s events.

"It's fun actually, I was really nervous at first but guess what, the coaches here in Canada are so nice and they taught me new techniques so I can improve further! And, the pancakes here are so fucking delicious." he's basically rapping, you think, but you still find yourself getting drowned by his voice, the way he excitedly tells you everything about his training camp in another country is endearing. Although, you frowned when he suddenly chips his rants off, a sad sigh escaping his lips.

"Why, what's wrong?" worry graced your expression, making him coo at how adorable you are.

"Nothing. I just wish you were here with me right now."

You watched him sit up from his own bed, leaning onto the wooden headboard and intently studying you, "I wish I could come home to you after practice, then we could cuddle and kiss.. and maybe eat some pancakes too."

You laughed at his unseriousness, really, he could say the most romantic words out there yet he'd still sprinkle it with his weird uncle humor. Well, that's one of the many reasons why you love him.

"You're crazy about those pancakes aren't you?" you watched him nod his head, his eyes crinkling as he probably feels pride swelling within him for making you laugh.

"I'm crazier about you though." he winked, a boyish grin on his lips and you couldn't help but kick your feet like a kindergarten student with a crush.

"Gosh! Now you're just making me miss you more!" you grumbled, lying sideways and hiding your maroon colored face in your pillows.

His melodic chuckles resound in your ears, and you peek at him when he softly, sweetly tells you that he misses you too, tons and lots.

"No but really, aside from dying on how much I want to hold you," you chuckle at his dramatic sentence, "one of the agendas here is because a little birdie told me that you don't want to go to your town fiesta."

You groaned, "I'm gonna tell mom that you called her a little birdie."

"Hey missy, no tattling allowed here." he clicked his tongue before continuing, "But no, it was Riki who told me. And, I think you should go because I heard that it's a special celebration in your town that only happens once a year. Besides, you can't let Riki run around there alone, what if he accidentally stabs himself with a spoon?"

This time, you groaned and whined, explaining to him the many reasons why you don't wanna go. It's hot, there's too many people, and Riki is old enough to handle himself. Really, like a child throwing a fit which made your boyfriend massage his temples, and as you were on your number five reason why you didn't wanna go, you halt when his voice dropped an octave on the other line.

"What if I give my princess a little something tonight if she decides to go?" he says, and something about his tone sends shivers down your spine, especially the way he called you 'princess.'

A pet name that he uses only for certain circumstances.

"What?" you asked dumbfounded, knowing the purpose behind his words but your brain is not fully processing the situation.

"You see, I can feel it when my princess is kind of frustrated.." something in his eyes darkened as he looked at you through the screen, one that shoots arrows down to your core, "because I am too, honestly haven't touched myself for days because it's never sufficient when it's not you."

You almost choked when he let out a deep moan, and you could see the muscles in his biceps moving and bulging. The sound of his sheets rustling is very much an obvious sign that he's starting to play with himself.

"Hoon- I.." you trailed off, rubbing your legs together to generate some relief, every second you hear a guttural groan from him the wetter you become.

Oh fuck, you two were just being lovey-dovey a while ago and now it's getting real nasty... and you're loving every single second of it.

"Yes princess?" he says huskily, looking at you with hooded eyes, waiting for you to speak up.

"Help me, please." you pathetically whimpered, snaking a hand down and inside your shorts and underwear, instantly feeling the sticky juices of your pussy.

"Sadly princess, I can only do that when you say yes to the proposal, yeah?" he replied, tone webbed with feigned sympathy as he smickered at your helplessness.

Your eyes slammed shut, legs twitching and your core in desperate need of release, "Fine!" you concede, taking a deep breath when you heard your boyfriend's triumphant chuckle over the line, "Can you please just-"

"Now, now," the man uttered, biting his lower lip to keep himself from tittering at your desperate demeanor, "listen to me well and do everything as I say, okay?"

You nodded your head as an affirmation, impatiently gathering your wetness that was pooling in your heat, lathering them all over your labia.

"That's my good princess, now can you touch your clit for me?" he instructs, his heavy breathing echoing in your brain as you do what he said. A light moan escaping your lips when your finger nudges your bundle of nerves.

"Circle them around, honey, write my name on that pussy." your lover on the other line shudders at the thought of spelling his name on your glistening part, he'll definitely do it himself the next time he sees you.

"Ah! H-hoonie, need more." you cried out, keeping your voice at minimum so the other occupants of the house won't hear what's going on inside your room. "Please, I need more." you continued whining, writing every syllable of his name on your clit, an unspoken proof of him owning you.

At this point, you're having a hard time maintaining the grip on your phone, forcing yourself to look into the camera, resigned pupils begging for your boyfriend to do something. And when he did say to plunge two fingers in, you immediately obeyed, curling it into your g-spot, imagining it was his deft digits that are pleasuring you, it had you writhing around your sheets, but it's not sufficient. Not adequate to send you to the edge. 

You fucking need him. You need Park Sunghoon himself.

"I-I can't Sunghoon, this is not enough I-"

"No baby, you can and you will." he rasped, and you can barely hear him stroking himself rather harshly, surely he's also imagining your soft, small hands on his cock as he works himself into his orgasm. "Let go princess, cum all over your fingers and I'll make sure that a grand prize awaits you."

You gasped, reaching euphoria with his encouragement, along with his insanely attractive groans while releasing his load into his hand. You moaned his name wantonly until you're panting and the only thing that you could think of is him, and the said award that you'll get when you see him after the summer break. 

Your phone slipped from your grasp, exhaustion seeping in and you don't wanna move anymore. You'll clean yourself up tomorrow, opting to listen to the praises that your boyfriend is giving you, finally sleeping with a satisfied smile when you hear the words that will forever make the zoo in your stomach crazy.

"I love you, my Y/N."

---------------------------------------------------

Giving in to your boyfriend made you lament, and as much as you want to hate him for compelling you agree to this stupid festival, you couldn't bring yourself to do it because apparently, your bouncy brat of a brother who entered your bedroom in the wee hours of the morning (10 am) and his joyful celebration of you coming to the stupid event was enough to make you think that yeah, accepting that proffer may be worth it.

Still, you weren't prepared for it. You only packed the essential clothes necessary for the entire summer break. And it did not include any extravagant, shiny dresses or outfits that are suitable for parties.

Thus, that is how you found yourself walking down the cemented pavement to go to the nearest clothing store after having your not so peaceful brunch. With your brother and his friends going off about how amazing the night party at the beach for the festival would be, you couldn't help but listen to them yap.

You yelped when a car stopped beside you, and you were so ready to dash off or scream if some masked man tried to kidnap you. The familiar black tint of the vehicle made you stop and rethink the overreaction that you're about to pull, then the window of the driver's seat rolled down, revealing none other than Jake himself.

"A pretty lady walking under the sun without an umbrella at like," he paused to look at the imaginary watch on his wrist, "one pm, that's uncanny."

You scoffed, crossing your arms, "The only uncanny thing here is that," you pointed at his face, squinting playfully "wearing sunglasses inside a car, what kind of idiot does that?"

"Hey! This is for fashion!" he yelled, offended at your snide remark, completely forgetting the character he's in. "Anyways, get in. Where are you even going?"

He gets out of his car, opening the passenger seat for you and signaling for you to enter. He stands there patiently, waiting for you to move even though he was clearly upset at your joke, evident by the pout on his lips. You couldn't help but smile, flowers blooming in your chest with how sweet he is.

You amicably walked in his direction, pinching in his cheeks, "You're spectacular in those sunglasses. Now let's go to some clothing store because I have to prepare shit."

While getting yourself comfortable inside his car, you saw him fight back a smile at your compliment, his pronounced cheekbones failing to hide his grin at the last moment.

The drive resumed without a hitch with you explaining the reason for your impromptu trip, and being extra, he just had to go to the mall because, and you quote, "The mall has more options, don't be such a grinch about it." end of quote.

Now, you're having regrets part two of today's adventure because how on earth are you supposed to act when two elderly couples have mistaken Jake as your boyfriend? And he was so casual about it! He could at least act a little flustered because you were always caught off guard!

What does that make you?!

"You don't have to be so shy about it." he pokes fun at you, dragging you around the mall after telling you that he knows a good store that sells really pretty clothes.

"I am by no means shy. I was just surprised that's all, and h-"

"Here we are!" he exclaims, cutting your sentence short when he pushes you inside the shop.

The bell rang, indicating your arrival and you could hear a faint 'Welcome' from the back, probably the only employee for the day, considering the small space of the clothing store.

The ambience inside is nice, the interior was giving Parisian vibes, but you couldn't admire the place for long when Jake shoved a bunch of clothes in your face.

"Here, try some of this on and let me see." he says with an eager smile, you just have to bring out the full potential of your neocortex and thalamus and you'll be able to see his wagging tail.

"You mean I have to model you these?" you raised an eyebrow, entering a dressing room and burrowing through the clothes, picking only the ones that caught your eye, shaking your head when you heard Jake shout about him being the fashion king of your town. 

The first outfit was a simple plaid red skirt and black long sleeve top, to which Jake said that it looks like you're going to a painting class.. it was a no.

Second outfit was a drag, he says, black sleeveless overall that you paired with a white crop top. Certainly, you'll have to remove the entire fabric if you want to pee, which is a good point.

You are now slightly fuming, wanting this shit to end, not until you saw an appealing, off shoulder white dress with golden linings on it. The subtle floral pattern embedded adds to its beauty and you think, yeah, maybe this is the one.

You threw it on without much thought, exiting the fitting room and showing it to your friend who was checking the prices of some of the clothes, "What do you think?"

Jake turned around from where he was standing, and it seems that time has been possessed by a turtle. His eyes widened, raking in your appearance and etching  it into his brain, never to consign into oblivion.

Now, Jake is a devoted Christian. He goes to church to pray, thanking God for all of the blessings he has received in his life. He heard the pastor describe heaven and angels, and as a child, he thought that he'll only see that in the afterlife. Never would he expect that he'll experience nirvana and see a spiritual being whilst alive, all in the shape of you.

He was so mesmerized by you that he didn't even realize you were talking, repeating your question from before. Then his small sphere broke when an unfamiliar voice spoke.

"I think you look great in it, ma'am."

"Oh! Uh-I, thank you..?" you trailed off, looking at the boy's name tag, "Yeonjun?"

"Yeps! That's me!" the black haired man chirps, "Well then, are you getting that? Which I think you should because it really suits you."

You put a hand over your chest, thanking the employee before excusing yourself so that you can return in your previous clothes and pay for the dress.

Meanwhile, Jake was stupefied. He didn't get a word in and he was about to shower you with compliments! He scowled at the tall boy standing in the corner, and when he felt the menacing glare of the aussie, he raised his hands up in surrender.

"I'm sorry man, had to speak to her because you were acting like a statue earlier." Yeonjun explains, but the smirk on his face didn't sit well with Jake.

"Where do I pay?" you appeared out of nowhere, the dress hanging on your arms, effectively breaking the tension between the two men.

"Right this way, ma'am." Yeonjun gladly guides you to the cashier area, giving you a flattering grin while he punches the price of the outfit. Before he could say another word, you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist, pulling you flush towards a sturdy body and a black card being dropped in front of the worker.

"I'll pay for it, no buts." Jake's authoritative behavior took you by surprise, thinking real hard on what made him act like this.

You discreetly looked at him, and my god were you blown away by how.. hot he looks when mad?

Wait a minute.. is he?

You heave when you're suddenly hauled out of the store, too busy in your own daydream to actually notice that he's done paying, gruffly grabbing the paper bag from the counter and storming out like an emotional old lady in a telenovela.

"Hold up, Jake!" you forcefully remove your hand on his own, sizing up his weird attitude before asking him what's up, and why the fuck is he upset out of the blue.

He faced the other direction, tuning in on him as he murmured under his breath, and you think you heard some curses like 'motherfucker' and 'cunt' and you had to compose yourself, or else you'll have no choice but to slap him silly for acting so tiresome in the middle of a jam-packed mall.

You sighed, putting your hands on your hips, a stance that mothers use when they're drained of their child's tantrum, "My fucking god, Jake, if you don't tell me what's wrong I'll leave you right here at this instant."

"That cashier sucks!" he bellowed, turning on his feet to face you with a frown, "He thinks he's a hotshot just because he's tall and he's muscular but argh!" he threw his hands up in the air, now sporting a petulant expression whilst crossing his arms over his chest.

"I get it." you giggled, raising an eyebrow at him that had him further frustrated, "You're jealous because he's handsome?"

"Yada yada," he rolls his eyes at your antics, not accepting such despicable reasons, "I'm a walking disney prince, he's no match for me."

"Alright, calm down Jakey." you laugh heartily, finding his baby girl stance absolutely precious, "Get that frown out of your face, you'll get wrinkles!" you went closer to him, brushing your hands all over his face to emphasize your point, not stopping until you saw a glimpse of a smile on his lips. And when you're content, you link arms with him, looking for the nearest ice cream shop, your treat, to cheer him up.

After ordering and settling down in Baskin Robbins, (the only ice cream shop in the mall), you excused yourself for a while. Going to a mini stall that you passed by a while ago to buy a certain necklace.

A silver necklace with the initials 'J' on it. You already made up your mind on purchasing it, a small gift for your friend. Staring at the jewelry now, you know that the adornment will shine on Jake the best.

You smile fondly, silver suits him, you think. Elegant and sophisticated, and the miniscule topaz stone in the letter that represents his name is the selling point for you, truly a necklace made for him.

After thanking the owner of the stall, you returned to the ice cream shop with a pep in your step, but your jolly attitude died down when you saw Jake with a girl at your table. And it appears that he’s enjoying the conversation with the pretty woman. 

'Well, fuck that, I ain't going back there when he's having so much fun without me.'

Your seething aura seemed to reach Jake, shivers running down his spine and his eyes were immediately drawn to the side, orbs widening in alarm when he saw you glowering.

Jake thought that the scariest moment of his life was when he was walking Layla early in the morning, and his dog choked on a piece of bone that was lying around in the neighbourhood, but as of now, he begs to differ.

His fear was audible in all ways, the girl in front of him noticed, making her follow what he was so riveting on and shit, that made you rage even more because it's fucking Kim Chaewon.

The girl who made your childhood a living hell. Your personal bully, the same girl who destroyed the sandcastle you built on the beach at the tender age of 6, the one who took everything away from you, the main cause of your departure in your hometown.

You felt so betrayed, the one person you thought she couldn't snatch from you, right in front of your eyes, was stolen.

You tried not to be affected by the scene, but you couldn't help the tears that pricked into the corner of your eyes when Chaewon smirked at you, and you'll be damned if you let yourself cry in her presence.

You turned on your heels, walking away and ready to commute back home but not before shooting Jake a disappointed look, ignoring his panicked expression.

Jake felt dread, guilt dropping down on his stomach when he saw hurt in your eyes, what's worse is that he's the cause of it.

He stood up right away, ready to follow you and explain the situation. That it wasn't what it looked like. He was about to take off, then he felt a hand grapple his wrist, a coy countenance can be seen on the culprit.

"You're seriously going after her?" Chaewon inquired, a mocking laugh escaped her lips, "What are you even gonna say?"

Jake retrieved his hand in a ruthless manner, sneering at the girl, "That nothing is happening here, she got it all wrong."

"Nothing?" she leered, batting her eyelashes like some bratz doll, "So fucking with me while she's gone and avoiding me when she’s here were nothing?"

"Listen here Chaewon," Jake aggressively leaned in, whispering through gritted teeth with a venom laced tone, "you do not say a word to Y/N, or else." then he left, running in the same direction that you took, making the blonde girl scoff.

Chaewon grimaced at the two cups of unfinished ice cream, setting her elbows on top of the wooden table and stagily resting her chin on her laced fingers, her attention stockpiling at a certain paper bag that's sitting on the left side of the comfy booth.

Scheme and trouble are her capital when it comes to instigations, "Game on, Sim Jaeyun."

---------------------------------------------------

"Y/N! Wait up, please, let me explain!"

You were well aware of Jake's pleads which made you walk faster, unfortunately, races like this meant that the one who has the longer limbs wins, and that wasn't you.

Jake caught up to you in no time, forcefully pulling you into his arms and enveloping you into a tight embrace, not letting you go even if you fight and hit him, accepting all of the profanities that you throw at him, he deserves that much.

It feels like you're in some k-drama. Getting back hugged by your childhood friend in a place where people are nowhere to be found, the skies turning into shades of gray and black, and frankly, you're getting tired of struggling knowing that you already lost the fight since he's so much stronger than you.

When he felt you go limp in his hold, he slowly turned you around so that he could examine you properly, a miscalculation on his part because seeing you in such a defeated state made him want to bury himself six feet under the ground until he's sure that he's paid the damages he had caused you.

"Y/N, please just one chance," he cupped your face, peering at you with such beseech, "please hear me out."

When you didn't speak, he took that as a chance to elaborate his case.

"I know it's wrong of me to interact with her, but she suddenly sat down in front of me. She caught me off guard and I was about to tell her off."

You let out a scornful laugh, pushing him away from you, "So you're saying that she's about to leave?"

He nodded, hope skirting his features but you wiped it all off with your next sentence, "Then why do you need to be so friendly with her, huh?!"

"I don’t want to make a scene there, Y/N. I have t-"

You raised a hand to stop him from saying more, having heard enough of his bullshit for the day, "Cut the crap, Jake, just- give me some time to think about.. t-this." your voice cracked in the middle and the sound reverberated through Jake's heart.

Watching you turn your back away was the hardest shit that Jake has to endure, especially since you're only a hair's breadth from his grasp.

Jake runs his hands over his face, attempting to rub the moisture away.

He has to fix this- No, he will fucking fix this even if it means that he has to go from heaven to hell.

---------------------------------------------------

You went home with a heavy feeling in your chest, ignoring the questions from your family and skipping dinner, (which is a big deal because your mother cooked your favorite food) since you don't have the appetite to join them for a delicious meal. You're tired, and all you wanted to do was cry yourself to sleep in the comforts of your mattress.

You dropped your body in the cotton sheets after washing up, dressing yourself in a simple tee and shorts.

It was eerily quiet, then the horrid memories that you clobbered in the back of your head started to swim back into the surface, your hands automatically went to your hair, gripping it hard as you choked back a sob.

A stuck gum in your precious, long hair that had caused you to cut it short, which made your classmates call you a tomboy.

Your artwork that was destroyed because this jealous girl just had to spray some black paint on it, causing you to lose a painting competition.

That one time when you had a crush on this guy named Soobin, but then he rejected you when you confessed because a certain someone made rumors about you wanting to have sex with him wherein reality, you only wanted to have a date with him.

Being called to the principal's office because you were accused of cheating during finals, which you never did but for some reason, 'evidence' of your wrongdoings appeared, and you lost the chance to become the class valedictorian.

The root of all these shitty things that you experienced: Kim Chaewon.

All the pent up humiliation and anger were released. The thought of Jake, the person who was supposed to be your shield from the disarray being involved with the person that you disliked, no, hate the most is killing you inside and out.

You sniffed, shutting your eyes and letting the tears flow freely as you clutched your pillow close to your chest. How you wished for your boyfriend to save you from this dark hole that swallowed you once more.

"Sunghoon, I need you here please."

---------------------------------------------------

You were rudely awakened by the repeated taps on the glass, a suspicious silhouette moving around the see-through curtain. You observed the shadow for a while until you decided to take action. 

You sit up, quietly grabbing a lamp on the bedside table and cautiously tiptoeing towards the window, you slightly jumped when the intruder knocked again.

You took a deep breath, raising the lamp on your left hand and slowly pulling the curtains to the side. You yelped when you were met with Jake's face pressed onto the glass of the window, clad in an all black outfit and you had to physically stop yourself from laughing with how hysterical he looks.

"Jake?! What the fuck?!" you whisper-yelled, putting the lamp down on your dresser and quickly unlocking the window, ushering him to get in before someone sees him and calls the police.

"What are you doing here?! And in the middle of the night? Do you have any idea that people might see and talk about this?!"

"I have ice cream. You didn't get to eat yours today." he shoves a plastic bag in your face, not minding your words as he huffs and puffs, probably out of breath since he had to climb the tree behind your house and go over the roof so he could slink into your bedroom. 

Yes, because life is not that easy and clichéd that a tree would be conveniently placed right in front of your window on the second floor of your home. Jake has to work for it.

"I don't want it." you uttered, trudging towards your door and opening it, beckoning your head downstairs, "Please leave, I'll be nice enough to escort you out."

You weren't looking at him, you don't have it in you to take him in because you're weak. You're not strong enough to stay mad at him, you know that one gaze into his starry eyes and you're gone, and you couldn't afford to do that.

Still, you should've checked at least once because hearing the plastic being dropped on some furniture and his incoming footsteps made you assume that he's done, that he's leaving, which was not the case.

A surprised gasp left you when Jake's hand grasped yours that was holding the knob, closing the door with a slight thud and he easily towers over you. An uncharacteristic intensity in his usually warm sepia orbs made your knees buckle, your heart rate speeding up when you realized that his masculine body had you trapped. Most importantly, his musky perfume makes you dizzy, clouding your ability to make sound judgment.

"I came here to see you, so no, I'll politely decline the offer of me leaving so soon." he murmurs, his hot breath cascading down your cheeks, and you got even more flustered when his free hand gripped your chin, leniently guiding your vision towards him.

"Please, Y/N, baby. Will you listen to what happened earlier?" he rasps, earnestly peeking into your own eyes as he searches for an answer that he desperately needed.

You'll condemn his perfume, his minty breath, his insanely attractive voice, and the sudden romantic ambience of the room. You'll inculpate anything at this point except your fragile self, because is it supposed to be your fault if Jake has the ability to render you defenseless against his overwhelming power over you?

A shaky sigh escapes you, nodding your head absentmindedly. The pet name surely had an effect on you, to which you could only describe as a grand circus playing around your whole nervous system.

"Jake.."

"There is nothing going on between me and that bitch, okay? I only care about you," he pulls your interconnected hands from the knob, bringing it to his lips and gently pecks your knuckles, "I'll drop anything just to be by your side, you know that right?"

"Please baby, I'm so sorry. I will never get in touch with her ever again. I'm so fucking sorry, I don't- I hate it when you cry, I hate it when you're sad. Please let me make it up to you. Please let me show you how much you mean to me."

You're not an impulsive person, as you'd like to believe, you tend to think first before doing something that you might regret in the future, but as of now, none of that matters.

For once in your life, you took the initiative, connecting your lips with Jake's, pouring all of your feelings in one emotional kiss. He wasted no time in returning it, turning his face sideways to deepen the liplock.

So this is what it felt like to kiss your plush, glossy lips. This is what it felt like to hold you in a way that is more than just some fucking friends.

This is what it feels like to have you. Intoxicating, addicting, and astronomically out of his wildest dreams.

Jake was brought back to reality when he felt you suck on his lower lip, opening his eyes in a haste and pulling away from you.

"I don't think we should d-" he starts, but you hush him by placing your index finger above his lips.

This is.. wrong. You are in a relationship, right? You two shouldn't be doing this.

"Jake," you whisper his name with such mirth, "show me how much I mean to you.. please."

That was the last thing Jake needed, throwing out whatever rationality remained in his brain in exchange for the yearning that he desired for so many years.

He groaned when you willingly opened your mouth for him, allowing him to slip his tongue in, licking every corner of your cavern. You let his wet appendage graze your teeth before moving your own to clash with his. Both are battling for dominance in this erratic exchange of saliva which he inarguably won, and you couldn't keep your moans at bay when he sucked on your tongue.

Pressing his lips into yours once more, a heated make-out ensues with him leading the way, wrapping his arms around your waist and compressing you between his body and the door, wanting to lessen the distance. He wanted more, he needed more, and he sure as hell will make the most out of this.

He'll act as a clueless villain if it means that he'll be able to steal the most precious gemstone that's already owned by someone.

But who fucking cares?

How could one say that it's wrong when everything feels so right? No one is qualified to dictate shit when the pieces of the decimated past are starting to recoup themselves, turning into a masterpiece called a forbidden tryst.

"Keep it down baby, don't want your parents to barge in here don't we?" he muttered against your lips, head moving to your clavicle and you instinctively craned your neck to the side, giving him the permission to paint you with the most colorful hues of blue and purple.

Jake breathes through his nose, inhaling your rousing vanilla and strawberry fragrance. This is what he's ever dreamed of. You, in his arms, marking you as his and only his.

One rainy day, he woke up only to realize that he wanted to be the man to make you happy. He wanted to cook meals with you, travel around the world, take candid photos of you and set it as his wallpaper. He wanted to be the person that you'll meet at the end of the church aisle.

The recollection of when it started was totally blurry.

Was it when you cried over that dimpled man back during 8th grade? Or was it when he saw you in your ball gown for prom? He has no idea, but he does know that he's prepared to give and let go of everything just for you.

Jake clutches on your waist even tighter, nuzzling his nose in the nook of your neck and leaving lightweight kisses up to your mastoid. He smiled when he heard you giggle, biting your ear lobe teasingly, "Still ticklish I see."

You poked his side in retaliation, making him jump and shriek a bit, "So are you."

"Why you little-!" Jake carried you like a sack of potatoes, dropping you on the cushions haphazardly yet you felt his palm on the back of your head, acting as an insulation so the impact won't hurt you.

"You'll be sorry for that." he says with a smirk, wedging himself in between your legs, and before you could reply, he kissed you deeply, proceeding to attack your neck with pecks and bites, sucking in the spot that had you gripping his hair.

His hand started to explore your body, tracing your shape and going inside your shirt, stopping right under your boobs. Jake lifted himself off, his eyes speaking for himself, silently asking for consent if it's alright to remove your clothes.

You nodded and started peeling off the shirt, the fabric getting comically stuck on your forehead (that's what you get for wearing clothes from your junior high days). You both laughed at the witless situation, and despite all that, you felt him help you out of the predicament but not without leaving a kiss on the exposed lower half of your face.

When the shirt is finally out of the way, you hastily remove your shorts as well, leaving you in nothing but a pair of panties because yes, you did not put on a bra, finding it ridiculous to wear one inside your own house.

You suddenly felt conscious when you noticed that Jake was unmoving and you found yourself covering your upper body, a movement that made the boy snap out of his daze.

"No, baby don't cover up," he grins sweetly at you, gulping down his nerves, "sorry, you're gorgeous, I can't help but admire."

You bit your lower lip, glancing at him and tugging at his own clothes, "Then be fair, give me something to admire too." you shyly said, avoiding eye contact when you saw him grin.

Jake instantly shrugged every piece of his attire, baring his all to you, and your eyes almost popped out of their sockets because what the hell?

Of course you knew he was well built, his fitted outfits leave nothing to the imagination at times, but fuck you to the moon and back, you did not expect him to be this muscular. He has abs! For goodness sake, you weren't prepared, and it shows since Jake has to boop you in the nose to get you out of your daydream.

"I know the view is amazing," he gently laid you down, positioning himself on top of you, "but tonight is all about you, darling."

He pulled you in for another solid minute of make-out session, this time though, he touches you with more vehemence. Snaking his hand on your chest, gripping your left boob and lowering his head down to give the other the rightful attention it deserves.

You moaned his name when he suckled on your nipple, tongue circling around the areola and occasionally biting to add more to the sensation. He used his fingers to twitch and pull on the other nipple, his other hand trailing over your stomach, down to the navel until it reached your heat. He experimentally dipped a finger, gathering your juices and groaning at how wet you are for him.

"Baby, you're dripping and I've only done the bare minimum." he mutters, releasing your nipple with a pop and staring down at you with desire written all over his features, "You really want me that bad?"

"Yes Jake," you answered without any hint of doubt, "I want you, please, do something." you begged, and who was he to say no to his beautiful baby.

"Your wish is my command, princess." he grinned, going into full action as he slid down, coming face to face with your core.

Princess.

There was only one person who called you that. It should hit you by now that this is taboo... but it's just one night.

After this, you'll move on and act like nothing happened. Isn't it?

You weren't able to delve deeper into your thoughts when you felt a finger inside your pussy, a warm mouth lapping at your wetness and sucking on your clit harshly. Your back arches when another digit goes inside you, going at a moderate yet wonderful pace every time it curls and hits a spot that has you curling your toes.

"Right there!" you moaned, getting closer to your orgasm, Jake sensing this made adjustments to his ministrations, basically going into feral mode. His deft fingers pumped in and out of you vigorously, his sucking, add to that the small nips in your bundle of nerves are getting too much for you to handle.

"Cum for me." he uttered, and the mini encouragement and vibration from his voice had you undone within a few seconds. Gushing into his face which he happily guzzled on, not stopping until you told him to stop, sensitive from the overstimulation.

He went up to your face and you could see the shiny slick on his lips, "That felt good?"

You smile, pulling him in for a kiss, tasting yourself in his tongue, "Very much, but what about you?"

"Baby, didn't I tell you that tonight's all about you?" he shakes his head, using his own limbs to spread your thighs open, allowing him to slot himself in the middle, goosebumps rising on your skin when you feel his tip prod at your entrance.

"Then what are you waiting for?" you taunt, wrapping your legs around his waist, pressing him closer to your soaking cunt. "Take me, Jake."

You really have a way with words or maybe you have this effect on him like magic, whenever you talk, all he could think about is making you his.

Inch by inch, he inserted his big, fat cock inside you and you know, because you feel it. The way he stretches you out just the right way, the vein on the side of his dick pulses every time you clenched on him, and when he finally bottomed in, you both let out a sigh that you didn't know you were holding.

Jake grits his teeth, putting the tip in and he thinks he's crazy because it's just the head but your pussy is sucking him all in and it almost made him cum.

He calmed himself down, if he's intending to pleasure you as much as he could, he's sure as hell to make himself last longer than usual.

He lets you adjust to his length, taking in a slow pace when you whisper for him to move. Gently rocking his hips into yours, making sure that he wasn't hurting you in any sort.

Then you begged for him to move faster, harder, truly, you're making this more difficult than it's supposed to be. He could hardly contain himself, but the more you egged him on, the more he let loose.

"Ah!" you cried out when Jake did a rather ruthless thrust, his tip hitting your cervix deliciously and it was getting him drunk off of you. He got a taste of you, and it'll be difficult to stop. He rammed into you mercilessly, the creaking of the bed was the least of your concerns now as you're more focused on the delightful feeling he's giving you, unconsciously scratching his back.

Jake hisses at the pain, but it motivated him to no end, knowing that you love what he's doing to you right now. Knowing that the reason you're acting like this is because he's doing you, as of the moment.

Your warm, wet walls hugged his cock so nicely that it made him believe that your pussy is made for him. Truly, every time he pushes in, you get tighter and it feels like paradise.

Nothing matters but the hushed moans of his name on your lips, he doesn't care about anything other than how good you feel.

You weren't in a good condition either, you're losing grasp of what's real, drooling mindlessly at the delight you're receiving. The man on top of you gives it his all, fucking you with all his strength as his length hits all the perfect spots inside you, making your eyes roll and see stars at the back of your brain.

Jake really tried to hold on, but your sudden release made your walls squeeze his cock, a low groan coming out of him as he cursed and complimented you on how well you're doing for him.

"Baby, I'm close." he warned you, sweat forming on his forehead and dripping down to your cheeks, and he finds it so hot when you dart your tongue out to lick the salty substance away.

"Inside, Jake. Please come inside me."

"Are you sure?" he slowed down a bit, peering into your eyes for confirmation.

Then you cupped his face, smiling at him lovingly, "Yes, I trust you."

That was all it took for him to release his seed inside you, thrusting shallowly to ride out his high until he collapsed on top of you, rolling over and slipping out of your walls when you halfheartedly complained about how heavy he is.

He finally did it.

Jake felt like a champion, one chance was enough for him and he's thanking all of the deities out there internally for giving him the opportunity to show you the love he's been meaning to shower you with.

He felt his body stiffen when you laid your head on his chest, telling him to stay, but what terrified him the most was when he listened to your request and naturally wrapped his arms around you.

Jake focused on you, combing your hair using his fingers as he watches you drift into dreamland.

You look ethereal like this, glowing under the dim light of the street lamps outside and how he wishes for you to continue being with him like this until you're grey and old.

He'll slip out of bed later, (couldn't risk getting caught by your family in the morning), and write you a note to make sure that you won't feel like shit when you wake up. For now, he'll relish in the blanket of your warmth and even breathing.

The boy sighs, his hand moving to your back, fingers lightly tracing his name over your smooth skin, 'J A K E '

---------------------------------------------------

It was supposed to be a one-time thing, but then Jake finds himself in your window again the next night, and you let him in every single time. The moment he steps inside your room, no more pretending, straight to kisses and you getting railed into your mattress.

It was like a routine you both fell into, but as much as the guilt gnaws on your conscience, it was too good to let go. A drug you couldn't get enough of, you both have fallen into this wild goose chase but it's very much late to back out.

That's what happens behind closed doors when the moon shines, the strenuous task begins during the day.

Seriously, how are you guys supposed to act in front of your family and friends when there is 'something' going on.

It was exhilarating though. Sneaking knowing glances across the room, sometimes with a matching wink, the subtle thigh touching, following each other into a room without any people just to steal smooches.

It was all fun and games until someone had to make the situation even more arduous, courtesy of your brother whining about going to the beach without your parents aka friendly bonding.

It should be easy, acting like normal best friends and playing around in the water but noo, of course even a simple hang-out would turn into a battle of 'the first one to gape like a fish loses.'

By all accounts, it never crossed Jake's mind that you'd be daring enough to wear a swimsuit that shows a lot of skin, because you're usually a conservative little girl. So he was astonished when you exited the changing room, sporting the sexiest red two-piece, shaking his head in disbelief when you discreetly threw a smirk on his way.

He knew you were playing a game, displaying your ass for him, swaying your hips while walking towards the chosen spot for today's hang-out.

Jungwon whistled, Sunoo made a surprised pikachu face, and Riki paid little to no attention to you when you sat down on the blanket with them, under a big umbrella that you rented out shielding you from the scorching sun.

"Is this what the city air does? I dig it." Jungwon says, giggling when Riki hollered in disgust, side-eyeing you before making a comment about how he'll smack Jungwon in the head if he remotely said anything like that again.

Jungwon raised his hands up in defense, looking over Sunoo's direction for assistance, "I was complimenting her! Help me out here, man."

Sunoo raised an eyebrow, doing his infamous googly eyes at his friend, "You did sound like a pervert there but yes, I'll agree that Y/N looks great." he turned to you and gave you a thumbs up, to which you returned with finger guns.

Jake quietly nursed his bottle of cold beer, not participating in the conversation until the three stooges pointed it out.

"Yoi, one beer is all it takes for you to go mute?" Jungwon mused, Riki followed up with the teasing, saying that maybe Jake hasn't been getting laid, thus, the cranky disposition.

"Wha-! No, lemme tell you that I've been getting it so well nowadays." he defended himself, but not without giving you an inconspicuous glance.

"I don't wanna hear your sexcapades," Sunoo stood up, pointing at the ocean excitedly, "I think it's time to play, no?"

The other boys agreed except for you, telling them that you want to take a look of the scenery first before joining them in the water.

"You sure?" Jake asked, and you gave him the positive signal and he shrugged, "Suit yourself."

It was his turn to make you flustered.

Now, you have seen the guy naked, but it was during lights out, not in broad daylight, so the gulping that you did was unplanned. Staring at him while he removed his plain tee, bearing his toned muscles and abs for you to ogle at.

You glared at him when he threw a smug look in your direction, thanking the gods that the other younger boys were oblivious as fuck, mainly, their priority was the race to the water because the loser will buy them milkshakes later.

"What are you playing at Jake?" you questioned, standing up from your seat and doing your very best to look at him square in the eye, forcing yourself not to look down.

"Baby," he says, walking closer to you, licking his lips when he focuses on your cleavage, "you started this didn't you? Make sure to finish it then."

You weren't able to utter another word when he walked away and joined the others in the sea like nothing even happened, like he didn't make your heart race with exhilaration.

You huffed, turning on your heels to ambulate around the area, unaware of Jake's predatory gaze on you.

You watched the soles of your feet sink into the sand, leaving footprints behind, your brain contemplating the whole scenario that is sure to bring a storm into the fragile house made of cards. Starting from when you and Jake began this.. affair. Then your thoughts drifted to Sunghoon, you mowed at the unearthly concept, your conscience punching you in the face.

Your boyfriend is probably out there, tiring himself out during practice, doing his best to improve his skating skills so he could show off and make you proud when he wins all the gold medals for his competitions. While you're here, doing the unimaginable with a man that is supposed to be just a friend.

You paused, hugging yourself as some kind of comfort. Maybe you missed Sunghoon so much that you unconsciously went and found some kind of intimacy, any kind of affection that will satisfy you while you're away from your lover.

Will you really put the blame on that? Yes, it's pathetic but you have already crossed an unforbidden threshold, a thorny one that bleeds you dry but the more you drown in it, the more you get hooked.

You shook your head, trying to get a clear vision of how this is supposed to end, too lost in your own thoughts that you didn't notice a pair that was trudging towards you, that is until their voices startled you out of your reverie.

"Uh yes? How may I help you?" you inquired cautiously, looking around just in case, and you felt stupid for not covering up because you can definitely feel their stares on your exposed skin.

"Relax pretty, we won't hurt you." the guy with a mullet spoke, smirking at you, the taller boy beside him nodded before adding a statement in.

"We noticed that you're alone, it's kind of dangerous here you know?"

"I'm a local, I know my way around here." you replied in a monotonous tone, letting them know that you're not interested in whatever they want to do with you.

"If you're a local," the mullet boy came closer to you, invading your personal space which made you frown and back up, "then how come that your face is not familiar?"

You took a deep breath, getting ready to shut them down when a towel was draped around you, a protective arm slinging on your shoulder and pulling you into a cast-iron body.

"Because she's keen on keeping her privacy, to avoid harrowing guys like you."

You'd recognize that voice anywhere, but you were surprised to hear such menacing articulation from him, very different from the usual sugary one that he always uses.

"Well hello to you too, Jake." the taller guy with brown hair greeted the aussie, a friendly smile on his face yet his passive-aggressive tone threw his calm demeanor away.

"Hello, EJ and Nicholas, didn't expect to see you here." Jake responds, matching the taunting attitude of the duo.

You clung to Jake, not minding the droplets of water if it means that you'll feel protected.

"Oh, is this your new bitch?" the one called Nicholas laughed, giving an amused applause and a low whistle, "You really have great taste, Sim."

You heard a low growl erupting from Jake's chest, his muscles tensing and you saw how he clenched his fist, getting ready to throw a punch if the need arises, "Don't you fucking disrespect my girl."

"Ah!" the ponyo look-alike named EJ mused, like a lightbulb went off in his brain, "Your girl? She's your girlfriend?"

"No way!" Nicholas sniggers, a surprise etched on his face, not believing what he was hearing, "A fuck boy like you settling down with a girl like her? That's some fucking news man."

One moment Jake was beside you, then he was gone, launching a full blown strike into Nicholas's face, and putting your scouts honor on the line, you’re sure heard something crack.

"Jake!" you cried out, fear creeping into you as you tried to simmer Jake down.

"A girl like her? A girl like her?! Fucking asshole, take that back!" Jake yells, about to attack the other man again but a divine intervention transpired, namely your brother and friends who came to the rescue.

They noticed that you two were gone for a while now, and thank god they decided to hunt for you both or something very bad might have happened.

"Oh my! Hey! Hyung, calm down!" Jungwon and Sunoo held Jake back while Riki got in between, helping Nicholas up, asking for forgiveness to deescalate the fight.

"Don't apologize to that asshole, he fucking disrespected your sister!" Jake shouts, breathing heavily through his nose, struggling to contain his anger.

Nicholas scoffs and wipes the blood from his busted lower lip, "I was stating a fact, that she is your bitch."

Silence ensues when Riki harshly shoves Nicholas, his friend EJ catching him before his ass makes contact with the sand. You've never seen your younger brother display an act of dominance before, rage brewing in his glare as he spoke in a threatening tone, "EJ, you're the sensible one here, get this fucker out of my face before I do something that we'll regret."

"This runt-" Nicholas was about to retort but he was dragged away by EJ, effectively stopping the brawl.

Jungwon and Sunoo sighed in relief, finally releasing Jake from their grip. Riki then went to you, softly patting you on the head as if he's saying that he's got you, that no one is allowed to mess with you except for him. Then he turned to Jake, "Thank you for defending her, hyung."

You all decided to go home after that incident, the mood totally ruined and you can hear the boys plot revenge as payback while you're changing, and you had to stop them right there.

As a compensation though, you and Riki invited them to stay for dinner, to which they happily agreed, not wanting to miss the opportunity of having free food.

When all of you stepped foot inside the reassuring space of your home, the sullen spirit from before was lifted up by some video games and snacks that your parents provided, letting you guys have fun while they prepare dinner.

You watched as Sunoo, Jungwon and Riki yell at the top of their lungs, accusing one another of cheating until one of them actually does it and everyone loses their minds. You laugh, then suddenly you were hyper aware of Jake's presence beside you on the sofa when his knee accidentally touched yours.

Your eyes discreetly slide over to his hunched form, the dim lights of the living room somehow highlights his sharp features even more, yet it made him look softer. You always had a habit of being obvious it seems since Jake turned to you with a questioning look on his face, silently asking you what's wrong.

You have to make up an excuse asap, and the lacerations on his knuckles provided the best one.

"I think we should treat that." you pointed at his hands, crummy reason but you'd stick to that rather than admit that you have been admiring him like a creep.

"Oh this? It's fine, it doesn't hurt that much." he looks at his knuckles, waving off your offer but you insist, telling him that it's the least that you can do after acting as your knight in shining armor in your damsel in distress. Thus, you find yourself alone with him in the bathroom, Jake sitting on the cover of the toilet while you rummage through the cabinet for the first aid kit.

"Found it, here." you ushered him to show his hand to you, placately tending to his wound, cooing at him like a mother hen whenever he hisses at the sting, making him chortle at the way you're acting. When it's all done, he thanked you, ready to leave but for some reason, you tugged him back to his position and placed your lips on his in a flash.

Jake was suddenly rigid, not really knowing how to react at first but he is nothing but a weak man when it comes to you, so he did what he does best, show you how much power you have over him, kissing you back as hard as he could. Then your next words made his head spin, like he's drunk off of you.

"I haven't thank you enough, Jake." you murmur against his lips, lowering your head to have your mouth reach the skin on his neck, sucking and biting it until you have left a visible mark. Your hands slithered over his clothed body, feeling his abs as you got on your knees for him, "Let me take care of you this time, hm?"

How can he even say no to you, he's going crazy right now. Your doe eyes begging to him, to let you pleasure him. Your silky voice calling him baby like he's the only boy you've ever called with that name. Your small hand on his crotch, palming him over his jeans. He couldn't say no to you.

"Go on then, I'm all yours." he rasps, relaxing his whole body and enjoying the show that you'll gladly perform for him.

You smiled and bit your lips, excitement coursing through your veins as you began to unbuckle his belt, lifting himself up to help you remove his pants and boxers so you could get to work.

His length sprung up a bit, having been freed from its constraints, still a bit soft but your mouth still waters from its sheer size. Your adventures with Jake always end up with him pleasuring you, never really giving you the chance to appreciate him like how you've always wanted.

You gently grabbed his manhood, your finger tracing the prominent vein on the side down to his balls, causing a sharp inhale from the man above you. You licked your lips, gazing at him from under your lashes, "What do you want me to do, Jake?"

God fucking shit.

Jake could cum just from your innocent teasing but he has to hold himself back, he must enjoy this, because he’s aware that this will be the best blow that he'll ever receive. He hasn’t experienced it, but he’s about to and if it’s you, he knows damn well that it will be out of this world. 

He takes hold of your hair, gathering your strands and creating a ponytail, letting you kiss around his crotch and groin, then he stops you with a rather harsh tug on your scalp.

"Take me baby, use that pretty mouth of yours, and only your mouth." he instructs, giving emphasis to not using your hands which you immediately obligue, massaging his balls with your tongue until he tells you to stop.

Jake went and grabbed his dick, the tip leaking with precum and had half the mind to smear it all over your glossy lips, "Spit on it, then use your hands."

He doesn't need to elaborate more as you collect whatever moisture you can get inside your mouth, spitting on his member and lathering it all over his cock, moving your palm up and down, the slick making your movements smoother.

He can't wait anymore, not when you're allowing him to do things to you. No more restraints as he grabbed your chin, your mouth forming an 'o' shape and gave you this look, quietly informing you that he's done playing. You nodded, finally taking him in your mouth and you couldn't help the pride that swells within you when he suppresses his groans.

You coughed up a bit when the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, some tears forming due to gag reflex, but Jake was unforgiving, whispering about how good you take him and that you should do more if you really wanted to thank him for everything that he's done for you.

You began to bob your head up and down, relaxing your jaw and hollowing your cheeks so you could take more of him, ignoring the pool of spit that formed on the corner of your mouth, letting it drip down your neck. 

You started off slow, gradually increasing the pace. You used the tip of your tongue to zone in on the smaller and more sensitive areas of his member, pausing the bobbing of your head so you could pay attention to his angry, red head. Wrapping your lips around it and sucking, like a child with a lollipop, slowly.. slowly, enjoying his grunts and praises about how good you make him feel.

Jake felt his dick twitch when you used your hand, wrapping it around the base of his cock, adding pleasure to the parts that couldn't reach your mouth (because he's big af), and he felt himself losing control, a small apology leaving his mouth before he sets the rhythm himself. Holding your head steady as he stood up, his manhood not leaving your mouth and he started thrusting mercilessly. His dominant side always gets to you, and he knows because he's hearing those gagged moans as he used you like his personal fuck toy.

"I'm close baby." he warns, and he looks down, and fucking hell, the image has been burned into his brain. Messy, you're basically crying and drooling around his cock, your hands helplessly holding onto his thighs for support while you struggle to breathe through your nose. 

Truly, the best view he's ever seen.

He staggers, not bothering to pull out of you, releasing his seed inside your mouth, not giving you a choice but to swallow all of it.

Jake exhales, satisfaction painted on his face while he slides out of your wet cavern, finally giving you the opportunity to catch your breath.

He knelt down in front of you, his forefinger smudged the strayed mixture of his cum and your saliva on your chin, swirling it around before inserting his digit inside your mouth, a smirk forming in his lips when you obediently sucked on it.

"That's my girl, now let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"

---------------------------------------------------

"Bro, hey! Are you listening?"

Felix, one of Jake's friends from Australia snapped his fingers in front of the said man, breaking him out of his daze as he turned his attention from his phone to his friend.

"Pardon?" he asked, shiny eyes blinking while smiling innocently.

Felix rolled his eyes, pointing an accusing finger at the younger, "You've been fixated on your phone the whole day. Say, you're waiting for your girlfriend to text you, no?"

"I'm not!" he fights back, "And how many times do I have to say this, she's not my girlfriend!" he grumbles, running a hand through his hair.

Jake has always been a popular guy in this town, and obviously, after the incident at the beach, rumors fly through gossip faster than light.

"Jake and Y/N are together!"

That's what they all say, and as much as he loves the sound of you two dating, he's worried that the.. girls that he's been with might go crazy and attack you. He doesn't want you to get hurt, but all that he can do is deny everything. Heck, even Jungwon, Riki, and Sunoo helped in putting the baseless fire out.

"Doesn't look like it to me." Chan then interrupted the discussion, emerging from the kitchen with bottles of coke in his hand, setting it on the table and letting the other boys refresh themselves from the heat of the summer season.

"That's what I've been saying." the freckled boy agrees, finally having someone side with him.

Jake was about to retort again after gulping his sugary cola, but he stopped when he received a notification from you, saying that you need a ride and you're currently at the parking area behind the mall. He jumped from his seat, bamboozling his way out of his friends' apartment, bidding his friends a hasty goodbye.

Jake went back for a second, his head peeking from the door, "Oh and Felix." 

Said man was startled, pointing at himself with a confused look on why his name was called all of a sudden.

"Yeah you, to answer your question earlier. No, I won't be going to the club or party or whatsoever. Hooroo!" and he was gone.

The two boys who were left in the living room looked at each other and shrugged, "Not his girlfriend, he said."

---------------------------------------------------

You were near having a panic attack, who would've thought that going to the mall to buy a new dress (because your last one was sadly lost and never found), would cause such chaos?

Tons of girls are either asking you about how you got together with Jake and how lucky you are or just plainly wanting to pull your hair out for stealing their prince charming... and you had enough of their bullshit.

You stood there in the parking lot, waiting for the very main cause of your dilemma to come and pick you up. Just then, a familiar stygian Kia entered the empty lot, stopping right in front of you then Jake himself appeared right out of the vehicle.

You wanted to scream at him for causing you so much trouble but a lump was caught in your throat when you saw his disheveled appearance, clearly rushing here to get to you but still managed to look exceptionally good.

How can one look like a painting da Vinci himself made even when his hair is all over the place and the collar of his denim top was not fixed at all?

Fear not, only he, Sim Jaeyun, can pull it off.

"Y/N! Are you okay?!" he dashed to you, holding you by your shoulders and examining you thoroughly if you were hurt. He swears, if he sees one tiny scratch on you, he'll haunt whoever caused the damage.

You almost cried at how sweet he is, but you opted to bury your face on the crook of his neck instead, surprising him but he returned the embrace nonetheless, entwining his fingers on the strands of your hair and setting his chin atop of your head. Apologizing for whatever happened to you, knowing that he was the root of all of these.

"No," you detached yourself, staring down at your white sneakers and how it complements Jake's brown leather shoes, "I guess I was shocked because I was literally being mobbed in there. Felt like a celebrity for a second." you tried to joke about the situation but Jake remained sympathetic.

"What are you even doing out here?"

"Well, I still need a dress for the festival.. which is tomorrow."

Jake facepalmed, laughing at his stupidity because how could he forget?

He held your hand in his, tugging you with him and ushering you inside his vehicle. When asked where he was taking you, all he replied to you was giddy "Secret!"

Soon, you arrived at his flat, and you were awed because it's been too long since you visited in here. Certainly, it still looks the same and the memories came rushing in like a wave.

Running around the house, chasing Jake with a spatula because he thought it was a great idea to scare you while you were in the bathroom, planting an oak tree in his small backyard, making him promise to take care of it even if he’s hoary and hunched.

You followed him to the steps, a delicate smile on your lips when you saw the rust on his door, surely a sign of the aged building. Upon entering, a familiar border collie ran up to you, sniffing you before wagging its tail in pure joy, making you squeal because she remembered you.

"Layla!" you hugged the little bundle of joy, rubbing her fur zealously, "You've grown so much! I missed you!"

Hearing your voice must have set off something from the dog as she threw herself over you, basically begging to be babied like how you did before. And you are willing! Except that she’s hogging you, her whole weight pushed on you which made it hard to breathe. 

Jake, who was standing at the side, watching the wholesome interaction with glittering expression sensed your distress, "Layla! Come here!" he called the dog, using the treats that were stored as a way to entice the furry creature, which definitely worked.

"Sorry about that, she gets excited really easily." Jake went to you and helped you up when Layla was busy with her snacks, "Told you she really missed you." he adds, making you chuckle.

"I can see that. Well, what do you need to do that requires you to kidnap me here?" you asked, gazing at him curiously which made him nervous.

"Right." he scratched the back of his neck, giving you a sheepish grin, "Would you mind if I go to my room for a bit?"

You puckered your lips in curiosity but didn't question him any further, telling him that it's fine and that you'll wait. When he got out of his room, he was holding a pink paper bag, shyly walking up to you and handing you the item.

"What is this?" you accepted the bag, fishing whatever it was residing in there, then your eyes shimmered in recognition, hastily pulling it out and an attire was presented to you.

An elegant, satin red dress. An outfit that looked exactly like the one that you were eyeing back when you were 15, the age where you wanted to act like a model or some actress, and the red dress in a catalogue made you feel like you could reach such dreams.

"Do you want to try it?" he asks and you nod your head, heading towards the bathroom, leaving Jake and his nerves for him to calm. But you wouldn't let him, how could he when you got out of the toilet wearing the shade of autumn that represents all of his thoughts and emotions for you.

You walked closer to him, merrily twirling around to show off, "What do you think?" you look at him expectantly, skittish for his reaction.

Jake gave you a once over, hands in his pockets as he raked in your appearance, from your head to toe, and he tried his best to come up with a coherent answer. "You are," he inhales, removing his hands from his pockets and throwing it up in the air and placing it on either of your shoulders, "ethereal."

His heart beats strangely fast, which is a natural occurrence whenever he's with you. It always happens whether he likes it or not, something that he has no control over. He fixes his gaze into your gorgeous eyes and he soaks in them. 

Everyday he swims to the thoughts of you, diving deep into the complexity of his feelings and hoping that when he ascends, you'll finally be able to see him in a different light.

"Say Y/N, would you like me to chaperone you during the fiesta?" he queries, and you couldn't help but laugh at his old method of asking you to be his date for the party.

You gathered his hands on your shoulders and held them into yours, transferring your warmth into his own skin as opposed to the cool air that starts to surround the house due to the darkening of the skies outside and the whirring of the air-conditioner, "I would love to."

Then your phone sets off, what a way to ruin the moment but you were pulled back into reality when you saw the caller.

"I'll be right back." you gave the man a tight smile, trudging down the hallways and out to the backyard to give yourself some privacy, unbeknownst of Jake's footsteps that followed you due to your anxiousness, but he made his presence hidden, and his blood boiled when he realized who it was that you're talking to.

He heard snippets of the conversation, and as much as he knows that he's in the wrong, the jealousy rises up to his stomach unprovoked, choking him until he's out of air.

"Yes, Hoonie, I'm having the best time here."

Best time because he's with you, making you feel like you're the only woman in the world.

"I do, I'll send you a photo of the dress soon."

The dress that he personally bought.

"Alright, take care. Uh-huh, love you too, my figure skating prince."

Well, that's fucking it.

The green eyed monster got the best of him, rage seeping through his bones and.. and he thinks he needs a glass of water to settle down. He runs to the kitchen, reaching for his favorite mug and filling it with ice cold water, letting it run down his throat and he wishes he could just dump it down on his brain to cool off the fiery envy that swiftly creeps up on his whole being.

He jumped a bit when you called his name, startling him when you were there, standing by the kitchen door with concern gracing your features, "Are you okay? Is something wrong? You don't look too good."

A barrage of questions and he answered it all in his brain in fear of saying something that might potentially hurt you.

Is he okay? No.

Is something wrong? A lot. You. Him. This. Whatever the fuck this is.

He doesn't look good? That’s where you're wrong. He always looks good.

His internal battle and fuming facade had you worried, taking steps closer to him in an attempt to console him. He was fine a few minutes ago, now he’s acting like this? 

The moment you stepped into his sanctuary, touching him on his biceps, all his walls broke down and he immediately pulled you closer to him, connecting your lips together in a hot, messy, searing kiss.

He held you by your waist and you automatically wrapped your arms around his neck, granting him the license to trap you between his sturdy body and the marbled counter.

On the other hand, when your boyfriend called you, taking in his soft voice, his longing words. Hearing him tell you how much he misses you and how everything will be easier only if he has you by his side.. and his never ending canadian pancake jokes, this time with maple syrup.

It reminds you that you are taken, but you let yourself fool around for too long and you're stricken with guilt. Sin written all over your heart and soul because Sunghoon's own heart was getting broken without him even knowing and Jake's will sooner or later be shattered as well.

You walked back inside the building, determined to put an end to this fallacy as soon as possible. You've let yourself fall into the rabbit hole, and you believe that you have been only missing your other half to the point where you willingly rekindled an old flame, thinking that this summer thing would be the answer to your loneliness.

But you proved yourself wrong yet again when you let yourself be submerged into Jake's honeyed touches and spicy kisses.

You couldn't simply say no to him, not when every crevice of your body has been explored by him, savored and shaped to perfection exactly to his liking.

You moaned his name when his hand massaged your boobs over the thin dress, his thumb adding slight pressure to where he's sure your nipples are located. His tongue never stopped invading your mouth, asserting dominance that you've never seen from him before.

He hoisted you up the counter, spreading your legs for him to slot his tiny waist in, and when the need for oxygen was needed, you both parted ways and the string of saliva between your lips made the tips of yours ears red.

Jake's heated gaze had you embarrassed, his left hand on your thigh started moving, deft fingers tracing faint lines on your skin and you barely made out the words.. 'M I N E.'

You were inclined to return his stare, and all you could do was to revive the long forgotten yearning that you had left a year ago, everything that has been existing inside his hazel orbs.

There were a lot of uncertainties. What if you didn't leave your small town to pursue a city life? What if you stayed here instead? Will the changes be different like how things were right now?

No lingering stares across the room, no skinships concealed by friendship, no more denying of what you two really are because.. fuck this all. Friends do not know the taste of each other, a simple platonic relationship doesn't give you a whole orchestra playing Taylor Swift's Wildest Dreams like that one scene in Bridgerton.

No, friendship doesn't make you feel like you're in heaven but love does.

This was supposed to be a one time summer fling, when the leaves turn into the color of wine that you had been nursing late at night, a past time that you developed whenever you're troubled about what you're really going through with Jake; you shall leave it all behind.

You will, but for now, the necessity to bury yourself in Jake's iridescence is your utmost priority.

You pulled him in again for a kiss, this time with a plan.

"I don't think this will reach the bedroom." he murmurs, his hands all over your body as he tries to feel you more, palms finally back on your thighs to lift your dress up, revealing black laced panties that had him groaning and inevitably, harder down there.

You giggled, pecking his cheeks while you started to unbutton his denim shirt, tracing your fingers over his golden skin, "I don't mind, do whatever you want. Also, leave this on." you say, admiring his chiseled muscles under his top.

He curses under his breath, you really know how to rile him up. You know him too well, and he's down bad for that.

Jake has always been a good boy, and he doesn't need to be told twice. If you told him to do whatever, then he'll do just that. First, he plans to fuck you in that tiny little red dress.

His hand traveled to your panties, chuckling when he felt a wet spot in the middle, his middle and forefingers playing with it, "Damn baby, haven't done anything yet you're this wet?"

You whined at his teasing, moving your hips for more friction but Jake pulled away, causing you to protest which seemed to please him, given by his smug countenance. He clicked his tongue and raked in your appearance, in a complete disarray and he's glad that he can affect you this much.

"I need you to be patient, baby. Can you do it for me?" he mumbles, voice dropping a pitch lower and it makes you wetter because it's so damn hot, not like his predatory leering helps your condition. Although, as much as you wanted to test his leniency, you decided to listen to him this time around, sitting still and watching him do his thing. 

Your obedience greatly pleased the man, leaning down to give you a peck on your top lip, lightly nibbling on it before pulling away. 

His hands move on your arms for a second, moving up to your shoulders. His calloused palms, probably from doing sports and playing the violin, are clement against your smooth skin, goosebumps running along the path that was traced. 

Jake seems to be in a trance, hyper fixated on your body as he glides the straps down, guiding your arms so he could remove them through the straps, causing the upper portion of the dress to get loose in the process. 

The action reveals more of your supple chest for him to gawp and you let out a gasp when Jake buried his face on your cleavage, trailing smooches on your chest and when he can’t take it anymore, he straightens himself up and he completely removes the bodice of the dress. 

He takes the initiative to bring your bodies closer together, spreading your thighs wider and bunching the dress on your waist, until his hard on can be felt on your clothed womanhood. 

Jake then resumes his ministrations, hands going over your belly, outlining your rib cage and his fingers traces the shape of your breasts, the sensations are building up fast and the agitation is starting to get to you. You made that apparent when you wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing him closer to give him a silent signal of where you want him to touch you. 

He only chuckles, dipping his head near your jawline to trail kisses over it, reaching your ears and whispering sly statements, “We’ll get there, princess. Hold on tight and enjoy the ride, okay?” 

“But Jake..” you whined and he shuts you up with a filthy, open-mouthed kiss where his tongue dominates your mouth, he takes that as an opportunity to engulf your boobs into his large hands, tenderly kneading and squeezing, tracing your areola in the process to make you squirm. 

You moan into his mouth when his fingers rub your erect nipples slowly, increasing in speed and pressure as seconds go by. Your moans getting louder when he adds some twisting and pulling, pleasurable but not enough to cause pain. 

Jake can’t help the groan that escaped him due to your incessant grinding, directly stimulating both of your lower areas. Your damp panties have been clinging on your pussy, your juices soaking even his jeans, specifically the area of his raging boner. 

Jake disconnects from the liplock, observing your tousled appearance and despite his wobbly vision, he can confidently say that you’re insanely otherworldly. 

The vermillion tint on your cheeks, blown-out pupils and bruised lips. Truly, the epitome of the goddess of beauty, his one and only. 

“Jake?” you questioned, in a hazy stupor with your labored breathing, “What happened?” 

Jake shakes his head, leaning down to rub the tip of his nose on yours, giving you a butterfly in the stomach-inducing feelings, “Just that you’re gorgeous.” 

He chuckles when you squeaked at his compliment, removing his hands from your boobs in lieu of grabbing your ass, further pressing you on his hardness before leaning down on your chest, his warm breath hitting your mounds that had you shuddering. 

You clutched on his shoulders for support when he began sucking on your nipple and gyrating on your covered wetness. You felt him flatten his tongue on your boob, covering an ample surface, turning into the hardened edge of his wet appendage flicking the nub repeatedly. 

A brave lioness is what you are, primed for battles and victory yet you are nothing but a lady in desperate need of release in Jake’s presence and skillful tongue. 

Soon enough, when your clit has been prodded far too many times by the rough fabric of your undergarment and your erected buds have also reached their limit, your back arched in pleasure, your orgasm washing over you like waves. 

Jake continued his movements, ceasing only when you whine in overstimulation. 

“My baby did a good job.” Jake praises you, patting your head and smoothing the bird’s nest on top of it. A spent smile is painted on your face, slumping onto the tiled countertop to catch your breath, then your eyes almost bulge out of its sockets when you hear Jake say that you’re not done yet.

He merely raised an eyebrow, getting rid of his pants and personally manhandling you into a position of his liking but is also comfortable for you. He pushed your panties to the side, too impatient to remove it and lining the tip of his leaking cock in your entrance. 

“I still haven’t cum yet, princess.” he mutters, holding your thighs apart as he plunges into you, inch by inch, “You’ll help me, right?” 

You nod your head, hands going over to his chest and he immediately grapples it in his, groaning in pleasure when your gummy walls sucked him in, but he held the overwhelming urge to do it one go as he wanted to feel you in the most intimate way. 

“That’s my good girl.” he moans, bottoming out of you. He stays motionless for a few minutes, giving you adequate time to adjust. Then he started moving, freeing your hands to grip the sides of your hips, his pace was tamed at first but he went feral when you beseech him for more. 

His thrusts gradually escalate, fast-moving and solid, making you feel so full. Every drag of his member on your slick creates squelching sounds mixed with your mewls, it rings in your eardrums, and the result is you getting wetter. 

You’re basically lathering his counter and skin with your juices but Jake couldn’t care less, frowning in concentration as he does his best to pleasure both of you. 

“Don’t stop.” you mumble along with other incoherent sentences, his darkened eyes glimmered, ramming inside you with all his might, adjusting a bit so he’s able to hit your sweet spot, and when he finally hits it, his reward is your chants of his name. 

“Don’t worry, babe.” he grunts, tilting to match your face to grace you a saccharine kiss, his pace unrelenting and merciless, not wasting any minute as he bullies into your wetness without any care in the world, “I don’t plan on stopping.” he mumbles against your lips.

The knot in your belly gets tighter each time his cock grazes your g-spot and you purposefully clenched around him, causing him to unconsciously dig his nails into the flesh of your thighs. 

The euphoric feeling was too much for you to handle, closing your eyes and dumping your head on his shoulder. 

Jake’s gasps and low grunts are echoing in your head, slightly opening your eyes when you feel a rather pleasant yet burning sensation, realizing that he’s rubbing your clit. Adding onto the stockpiling gratification. 

You heard Jake curse, expressing how breath-taking and marvelous you are, in every aspect and facet. You tried peeking at him in spite of your incoming cloud nine, and in your drunken stupor of paradise, your enticement towards his sweaty neck invoked you to lean in and suck on his skin. 

Jake moans in delight, a specially harsh thrust was given to you in the process, taking you by surprise as it strikes the perfect site that had you tingling and creaming all over his member. 

You accidentally bite a bit too hard on his neck, marginally leaving teeth marks that’ll surely take at least a few days to heal. 

Jake’s hips stuttered, groaning rather gutturally at your dripping, warm cavern’s involuntary clenching, seizing his cock and as much as he wishes for the intercourse to carry on for a little longer, he has also reached his limit. 

He releases his seed inside, painting your walls white and warming your core. He keep his languid strokes to ride your highs, halting when the dopamine dies down.  

The smell of sex drifts in the kitchen. Sweaty, hot, satisfaction and fulfillment surrounds the place. Both of your strained breathing reiterates the events that have transpired. 

You made the first move, lifting your head from his shoulder and pushing his sweaty locks that got stuck on his forehead, smiling at him giddily, “That was amazing.” 

He wheezes at your pronouncement, “I know. You are amazing.” 

“Why is it always me?” you complain, not accepting his never ending praises towards you. Besides, it wasn’t you who’s doing all the work in your.. endeavors. 

“Because,” he engulfs your hand in his, kissing your knuckles and fingers one by one, “that’s what you are. Amazing.” 

You roll your eyes at his flattery, then the joy you’re feeling turns into sorrow when he pulls out of you, some of his cum oozing out of your hole. The emptiness nearly made you whine but you fight off the impulsive thoughts of doing so. 

After cleaning up and making sure that you’re presentable for other people to see, Jake offered to take you home and you accepted. Throughout the ride, you two are singing at the top of your lungs, ranging from love songs to rock songs, tittering when the other’s voice cracks. 

When you’re finally home, you are reluctant to separate with him, but he assured you that he’ll see you tomorrow. As he should because he is your date for the event. 

Bidding goodbyes was a herculean task, managing to do it when your parents themselves went out of the house due to their anxiety at the car parked in front of the house for 10 minutes. 

You steer away from your family’s curious questions, telling them that you are tired (the truth) and you crave some alone time to rejuvenate. 

 It is a very particular day, like you two have discovered something new that veered your social link to a blithe yet brooding one. The possible consequences of your poor decision-making was washed away by fatigue, thoughts of Jake and the excitement of tomorrow’s event lulling you to a dreamless yet deep sleep.

---------------------------------------------------

You watch the youngsters run and jump in thrill at the vibrant and bright atmosphere of the location for the town’s long awaited celebration, sighing through your nose but  still laughing at their energetic vibes. 

“Takoyaki!” Riki exclaims, nudging his friends and quite literally yowling at them when they disagree at his suggestion.

“I want some candied apples.” Jungwon points at a certain stall, Sunoo’s eyes following suit and the smile that he’s sporting is the biggest you have ever seen. (desserts do have that kind of effect, maybe that’s why they always have a room in the stomach.) 

“Really? So early in the evening and you want sweets?” the tallest among the guys deadpans, turning to you for help, “Knock some sense into these idiots.” 

You pinched the bridge of your nose, nonchalantly waving Riki off, “Put on your big boy pants and deal with it.” 

You ignore your brother’s bleating, facing Jake who is beside you the entire time and fretting over the fact that your mother and father left you to look after the boys to have their ‘alone time.’ 

“Jake?” you called for his attention when you noticed that he wasn’t responding to your hardcore yapping, only to find him immersed at you. 

“Jake? Is something wrong?” the thumping in your chest accelerates as he peers at you with dreamy eyes, permeating with fondness and yearning. You are not entirely sure on how to react, standing there like a statue until the man in front of you scratches the back of his neck in embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry.” he laughs bashfully, “You are simply glowing, a rare jewel. I can’t stop admiring you.” he admits and the blush on your cheeks darkened. 

Your appearance is not something to be confident at, you look decent at best if you say so. 

You wore the red dress that Jake gifted you, paired with rubber shoes of the same hue. Your hair is styled in a dutch braid, decorating your strands with various pins and ribbons for the aesthetic, and finally, a natural make-up for added radiance. 

You literally see no reason for him to goggle at you, but then again, you can’t and don’t perceive yourself in Jake’s point of view. You’d be shocked if you learned how angelic you are in his world. 

In Jake’s standpoint, the tinge of cerise complements your sublime beauty like no other. It brings out the tincture of your eyes, the carmine of your cheeks, the cherry of your lips and it greatly enhances your flushed complexion. A mermaid you resembled because of your hair, relatively constructing an illusion of enchantment.

That is why he cannot fully fathom why you’re denying his words, simply because Jake is confident about it. He frankly believes that there is no other like you— unparalleled and stellar. 

“Be serious for once.” you say, thwacking his shoulders with a snigger.

Jake frowns, facing you and catching your hand in his, he opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a shrilling voice, one that had you reeling in consternation and abhorrence. 

“Well, well, well. The power couple has revealed themselves.” 

Great, the night is young and it’s already ruined by none other than..

“Chaewon.” Jake utters her name with such revolt, shielding you from her as he protectively shifts you behind him, “What do you want?”

“You wound me.” she places a hand on her chest, faking a sad expression before she wheezes and narrows her overly eye-shadowed eyes in your direction, “Hello again, Y/N. Won’t you come and greet me as well?” 

Your whole body trembles when you hear her call your name in a sweet, sickening manner with an underlying condescending tone. It wreaks havoc in your supposed to be zen state, the rain in your glossy orbs threatens to fall any minute the more the interaction is prolonged. 

Jake senses your dilemma, and he knows that he has to do something, anything to not let this get out of control. He needs to wrap this up asap. 

“Chaewon!” Jake roared, seething and perturbed, “Get out of here while I’m asking nicely.” 

The girl hoots in laughter, obnoxiously even, holding onto her tummy, “You’re hilarious, Jake. Why are you acting like nothing happened between us?” 

Time seemed to come to a pause at her revelation. Surely, that wasn’t what she said, right? 

You must be mistaken because Jake? The boy that you trust the most, the only person who is aware of your trauma towards Chaewon’s wrongdoings.. something transpired between them? 

Your head that is hanging low amidst the whole ordeal tilts to spare the girl a glance, which you shouldn’t have because you have now witnessed the most gut-wrenching sight: Chaewon wearing the white dress that was supposed to be yours. 

She peeks and notices your gaze on her, whirling around to show-off with a haughty smirk, “Pretty isn’t it? I’m really happy that Jake gave this to me.” 

“Jake gave that to you?” you whisper, and like a bat with supersonic hearing, she makes-out what you just said without any problem.

“Yeah!” Chaewon giggles, and she dropped the bomb that exploded all over your conviction and solidarity, “I mean.. From all the nights me and Jake have spent in his bed, I think it’s only natural for him to give me some gifts.” 

Your eyes widened in anguish, meeting Jake’s with resentment. You don’t even need to explain yourself, your betrayed expression articulates all the emotions that are fermenting in your being, spoiling the gaiety and leaving a bad taste in your mouth. 

You bitterly tugged your hand, grimly retiring in this shithole wordlessly. Jake’s pleas were blocked out as the ringing in your ears is too noisy, currently focusing on how excruciating it is to wear your rose tinted glasses.

Seeing in a bird's eye view, the earthquake of indulging in your desires, the red flags; rejecting the clues and signals in place of shooting stars and red roses.

There is nothing wrong with harboring intense, burning feelings for someone. There is nothing wrong about it except…

You choked back a sob as you stood still in the middle of some empty street, covering your mouth with your palm while you used your free arm to hug yourself, a coping mechanism to the either the cold breeze or the icy realization of your own breach of trust.

To the person that you are tied to. The lover whose heart is reserved for you but here you are, cracking his entirety unbeknownst to him. 

Truth to be told, you are apprehensive about the entirety of your solstitial days. You are no doubt in the utopia of cloudy marshmallows and lustrous sequins, such vista is brought to you by your paramore, Jake. 

Your affairs are not accepted by society, deemed illegal by the law and an unforgivable misdeed by the gods. Yet you couldn’t, for the hell of it, deny the fact that you are over the moon, spending time with your revived ardor that you thought had passed away. 

Reflecting on your decisions brings you on a disparaging trip to guilt land, your sins are not reasonable, will never be decipherable but love has always been like that, isn’t it?

Working in mysterious ways, playing with fate and destiny, using cupid as its puppet and people’s heartstrings as marionettes until it cooks up its desired results. 

But must it be so ferocious? 

You are having a meltdown, drowning in these poisonous thoughts when a distant voice clears your smoggy psyche. 

“Y/N!”

---------------------------------------------------

Jake fumbled. He fucked up. So bad. 

He was motionless for a minute, wide eyed and panicking as the noise around the ongoing celebration helped him block the cringe-y voice of the girl, whose presence if he must say, is irking as hell. 

He watches as your lovely figure walks further away, getting smaller the more distance you put between you, and it’s nauseating. The agony was fucking too much, not foreseeing the events.

He was meant to be with you the entire night. Eating delicious foods from the stalls, winning you a giant teddy bear, watching the grand fireworks whilst he kisses you under the radiance of the natural and artificial stars. 

And whose fault is this? 

Jake turns to the culprit, her innocent facade pissing him off to no end.

“What the fuck, Chaewon? Have you finally lost your marbles? Didn’t I tell you to leave me the fuck alone?!” he yells, his emotional intelligence gone because the mere thought of losing you is not worth the effort of suppressing his anger. 

“What?” she asks, crossing her arms in disdain, “I only came here to say hi and to show the dress.” 

The scene appears to catch the attention of the bystanders around them, and multiple pairs of eyes scrutinize the pair, which is not good for the sake of it all. 

Jake inhales, praying to anyone out there to give him the patience that he’s currently lacking, “How many times do I have to say that I’m not interested in you? We fucked once and I was drunk! That’s the end of the story!” 

“So fucking around with Y/N is better? Have you forgotten that she has a boyfriend? You really want to spend your precious summer with a whore?” she rebuts, and what she labeled you was the last straw. 

He ruthlessly gripped her arms, no caution nor forgiving, “Listen here, you do not call Y/N a whore ever again. She is so much better than you and,” Jake scoffs, eyeing her with disdain, “you do not even come close to her level. So, I would really fucking appreciate it if you zip your shitty mouth, or else I will make your life a living hell.” 

Jake lets her go, clenching his fists and hiding it inside his pockets, glaring at the teary-eyed woman but he certainly does not fucking care. She can bawl her eyes out and spread gossip about him, but he won’t let any disrespect towards you pass. 

He turns around, quickly changing plans as he thinks of ways on how to make things up with you, but before that, he took a shot of belittling the girl, “Now that I see it, that dress is ugly as hell. You can keep that, it's only beautiful if Y/N wears it.” 

Jake then runs off, in a mission to find you. 

---------------------------------------------------

“Y/N!”

It took you a minute to process what’s happening. One moment you are alone and the next second you’re engulfed in a warm hug. Must be a divine intervention or something, your knight in shining armor coming in at the right time to save you from the sorrows of your own faults. 

You pushed him away rather forcefully, vigorously wiping the remnants of your tears away but Jake has seen it either way. 

He cups your face, mellowly speaking, “Please don’t cry, baby-”

“Stop!” you cried out, placing your hands on his chest to put a tiny gap in the middle, a feeble attempt at refusing his support, “Stop calling me that if you don’t mean it. I-I.. Please, I want to be alone.”

You’re beginning to go into hysterics, sobbing uncontrollably now that you have been slapped by reality. 

“I don’t want you to be alone, and,” Jake steeled himself, not accepting your rejection, “I mean it. You are my baby so please Y/N, let’s talk this out.” 

You shake your head, struggling against his firm hold. The complexity of the whole situation embroiders dark threads in your snowy fabric, commencing the madness in you, and you’re so damn afraid if you’ll be able to surpass this test. 

“Jake, I don’t want to- Please, stop, I can't do this anymore.”

You are too busy wallowing in despair that you failed to notice Jake’s terror stricken guise. All of his brain cells are working overtime to think of something, anything to dissuade your incoming rash verdict about your.. circumstances with him.  

Jake slides his palms onto your shoulders, lowering his forehead down the crook of your neck, shutting his eyes and relaxing for a second. 

It’s now or never.

“You can’t do this anymore while I've been here, doing it ever since.” he mumbles, decibels reaching your ears and it makes you confused.

You stay rooted in your spot, listening to his shallow breaths, “Doing what?” 

“This Y/N.” he lifts his head up, meeting your weeping orbs as his lower lips tremble, wavering and hopeless mien, “I did not pursue Australia for the sole reason of staying here, because I thought that you’d continue college in this town.” 

Wait. You are the reason?

“I wanted to be with you, then I learned that you applied to a university in the city and I was too late. I wasn’t able to go with you because I hesitated. And that was the biggest mistake that I will forever regret.”

Jake didn’t give you the time to butt in, he prattled on and on, explaining and disclosing every bit of information that you have to know.

Chaewon and him did have a history, but he was drunk and was in need of some sort of intimacy because all he did was miss you while you were gone. Yes, shitty excuse but that was the truth. He apologizes hundreds of times for that, verbalizing that he avoids her like the plague after their one time encounter, and that she’s the one who kept on persisting in a relationship with him. 

He doesn’t want to do shit with her and he is willing to spend a lifetime making it up to you if it means that you’ll forgive him. 

You mutter his name in hopes of cutting his reverie to tell him that it’s okay. That he doesn’t need to be unfair to himself and that you also have made an awful blunder yourself. So, you tried again but then he blurted out the words that rewired your verdict.

“Y/N, I love you. I am so fucking in love with you. You inhabit my day, possess my nights and I-”

You finally placed your lips on his, shutting him up for good. You can’t contain your selfishness anymore, and you’re going to hell for it.

“Jake, I understand.” you whisper against his lips, “No more talking. Just kiss me.” 

And he did. A passion filled kiss in the dimly lit middle of the road, and soon enough the two of you are giggling out of your wits, running towards his flat to savor each other beneath the raving moon and stars. 

Ablaze sheets and shushed confessions of affection, lustful chants of pet and nicknames, hot and ponderous breathing. Lips molding, tongues dancing, limbs intertwining — love was made multiple times that night. 

Jake felt his turbulent ambitions being nurtured into a calm sea. 

When he holds your sweaty body close to his after the last of the many rounds of ardent copulation, he pecks the crown of your head, thinking that he’s got you. 

Imagine the bewilderment and fretfulness that he undergoes when the next morning, he wakes up and you’re not by his side. The slot beside him is where you’re meant to be. 

So, why are you not here?

He is like a thundercloud, fixing himself up and taking a dangerous, speedy trip towards your house only to gain the certitude that you have left. 

“Yeah, she came back home during dawn, grabbing her suitcases and catching the earliest train back to the city. She didn’t say anything to us, just that she needs to go back as soon as possible.” Riki clarifies groggily, your brother rubbing his eyes sleepily, overlooking Jake’s fall from grace. 

He thanks the younger and when the door is shut, he’s out. 

He was in a sinking boat the whole fucking time, his white knuckle grip on the handles was useless as he’s the only one dying with it. 

You, his gospel, are once more absent to guide him, and he is left alone to fend for himself. 

Jake enters his car in a daze before laughing to himself, beyond miserable and breaking down. You can’t even be bothered to give him an acrid goodbye. Was he not worth the time? Was he not worth it? 

He slams his hands on the steering wheel, his eyes going over the hidden compartment where the bracelet with your initials sits. Looks like he won’t be able to give you that, no?

“What do we do now, Sim Jaeyun?” 

---------------------------------------------------

Your sudden disappearance deeply troubled Jake. His gut tells him not to contact you first, listening to his intuitions and twiddled on his thumbs. 

He waited for a call, message, anything to let him know that you have not abandoned him, but not once did he receive one. A complete dissonance and in a flash, the pigments in his face that you have sprayed were drained. 

He prayed for a sign to the deities because he’s tired of waiting, ‘Give me a reason to stop chasing after her.’

And what he asks, he gets. 

One day, when he was rolling around in his bed, stalking your social media, he saw that you updated on instagram. He immediately opened the app, but he was crushed like an insect at what he saw.

It was a photo of you and your boyfriend. Seems like your ‘ice skating prince’ won a tournament, no trophies at hand since his prize is already in his arms— you. 

Jake lies down on his back, his arms covering his eyes and he lets the salty tears that he’s been keeping at bay for the longest time freely stream down. He granted himself the license to cry this time, to have a moment of weakness as he grieves at the newly formed memorabilia of adulation and picturesque remembrance.

You should have at least given him some sort of magnanimity, a heads-up perhaps? 

Yes, it was necessary so he could’ve commenced the digging of the graves. One for his dying gray heart and one for his wilted, parched crimson roses. 

Jake is no stranger of the naked truth, that he was the other guy in the portrait. The snake and not the proprietor but even for a trifling moment, despite the bleak and slim chances, he believed that the silver lining exists. 

He was so sure that the inkling sentiments, skinship, companionship throughout the summer would mean something to you.. If not, then why would you be so cruel to give it to him? Why would you be so heartless to let him think that he could win against someone that is unrivaled when it comes to a space in your heart and life? 

He spilled his booked sentiments, you let him savor you, allowed him to follow you to the depths of nowhere only to pull back at the last minute, leaving him stranded at the end of the cliff. 

So he did what must be done. He jumped in the deep, dark ocean of precariousness. Hoping that at the end of his expedition, a treasure would be waiting for him. 

Jake did find fortune alright; rusted, grotesque, and counterfeit. 

He was a deep-dyed, utter fool. Pathetic at its finest for falling for a person he could never, ever have. 

Indeed, a complete defeat. What was the name of the victor again? Ah, right.

Park Sunghoon. 

taglist:

@deobitifull @dreamiestay @shiningnono @anormieee

[miriaocs]

GET TO KNOW YOUR TWST OCs (and their relationships)

(Or how I make up excuses to blabber about my OC lol. Most of the "who" questions are aimed at the twst cast, but feel free to include other twst OCs as well!)

Name: What does your twst OC's name mean? Why does Rook/Floyd call them [insert nickname]?

Inspiration: Is your twst OC inspired by any villains? Concepts? Anything Disney-related?

Age/Birthday: How old is your twst OC? When is their birthday? Whose birthday (among the cast) is closest to your twst OC's? Does the horoscope lie or do they get along well?

Dorm: Which dorm is your twst OC in? Why? Which qualities they have make them suitable for said dorm? Do they have a roommate and how is their relationship?

Class: Who is your twst OC's classmate(s)? How would you describe their relationship? Did they have different classmates in previous year and did they get along?

Height: How tall is your twst OC? Are they conscious about their height? Are they close to someone with similar leg length?

Hair/Eye color: What are your twst OC's hair and eye colors? Who got the closest/opposite palette to them?

Homeland: Where is your twst OC from? Do they know anyone from the same hometown prior to NRC?

Club: Which club does your twst OC join and why? Is there anything memorable about the club fair day/their first day at the club? Which clubmate is their favorite?

Subject: What is your twst OC's best subject? Worst? Do they study with another whom excels at the same subject? Do they ask anyone for help with the subject they are bad at?

Hobby: What are your twst OC's hobbies? Who among the cast will they possibly ask to join in their pastime?

Pet peeves: What are your twst OC's pet peeves and which one in the cast accidentally (or not) commit the "crimes"? How will your twst OC deal with that person?

Food: What is your twst OC's favorite and least favorite food? Why (optional)? Is there anyone they can share their favorite food? Is there anyone they can count on to take over the food they dislike?

Talent: What is your twst OC's talent(s) and who can properly appreciate that?

Unique Magic/Signature spell: What is your twst OC's UM (if applicable)? What can they do? What is the incantation? Is there any weaknesses/loopholes and who can exploit those?

Quote: Give me something your twst OC will say. Either something they always say or something iconic they said. Something that helps solve the problems or something that is a catalyst to even more issues.

(Ok I'm kinda running out of ideas here) Personality: Give me 3 adjectives to describe your twst OC. Or an essay. Whichever works. Whose personality among the cast is closest to your twst OC and do they get along?

Backstory: Tell me anything about your twst OC's backstory. Their childhood, their parents, their siblings etc. Does their backstory affect how they are as a character now and how they interact with the cast?

Pick only one: Let your twst OC pick only one and explain the reasons: only one favorite from each dorm, only one favorite housewarden/vice housewarden, only one favorite first/second/third year etc.

(For my beloved yume shippers) Partner: Who do you ship your twst OC with? Are they in a relationship? If yes, how did it start/end? If no, why?

[burrowdarling]

A Magical Surprise

Summary: You plan a trip with your little family to Disney, but you have a magical surprise for Joe of your own. Requested by this anon!

Pairings: dad!Joe Burrow x mom!reader

Warnings: none, some Disney adventure fluff, Joe having major dad energy, pregnancy announcement

Note: Hi! Thank you to the anon who requested this. Some good ole tooth-rotting fluff after all the spice I've written recently. I think this turned out cute, and I somewhat proofread it (oops). Hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 1.8k

Check out my Masterlist here!

Taglist: @burrowbarbie @definitelynotdomanique @one-sweet-gubler @plushkhiii @enchantedinfinity @iosivb9 Feel free to comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the list!

You and Joe had talked at length about taking your little family on a getaway. The two of you as a couple hadn’t taken a trip since you had your son, aside from going to see Joe play. It took a bit of time for you to get to that point and were only able to travel to so many games. Your son had not taken a trip outside of Joe’s games before either, having both of your families local was a blessing. After some planning and brainstorming, the two of you decided what better place to take him than Disney. He was at that age where he was able to go on the rides and actually enjoy it as well as you and Joe getting to bask in some memories while he was little. Everything was still so new to him in his little world, that being able to bring his favorite characters to life would be an amazing sight to see.

In the days leading up to the trip, you had been feeling somewhat off. You hadn’t thought too much of it, but there were some similarities to the symptoms you had felt when you were pregnant with your son. You decided to play it safe and take a pregnancy test before you traveled. Sure as shit, the small plus sign popped up fairly quickly and confirmed your suspicions. You were so excited, having discussed before that it felt like the right time to try for baby #2. It was eating at you that you hadn't told him yet but had the perfect idea planned out to surprise him during your trip. 

You were able to play how you were feeling off to Joe by saying how you must’ve gotten a little bit of something from work, but how you knew you’d be feeling better in time. He seemed wary, but took your word for it, doting on you for anything you asked for. 

“I just want to make sure you’re okay mamas, gotta be feeling well so you can enjoy our trip” Joe would say, bringing you crackers and seltzer to settle your stomach. Little did he know, it was your morning sickness hitting you in full force. You couldn’t wait to tell him.

Your flight was a breeze, your son sleeping the entire way like a saint. It gave you and Joe some time to catch up and just talk. It was so nice getting to reconnect together with no other worries to bother you while you’re in the air. Being married to a star had its perks, having taken a private flight meant no needing to wait around in an airport full of strangers and a smooth arrival, avoiding baggage claim and a car waiting for you. Joe loaded in all of your bags while you got your son settled into his carseat, making your way from the tarmac to the hotel. 

After a long day of travel, you got your son to settle down to bed somewhat easily. You were laid in in the hotel king bed when Joe came in from 

You got up bright and early the next day, hoping to beat the rush of the crowd. You’d also hoped you wouldn’t be bothered, having the fast pass as well as going during an off peak time. Your son's face had lit up with excitement the moment he got inside the gates, wondering what someone as small as he was must’ve been thinking about everything around him. His entire childhood was right before his eyes.

“I wanna go on dumbo” he exclaimed, about to take off before Joe reached out to scoop him up into his arms, a fit of giggles ensuing.

“Not so fast little man, this isn’t like the park at home we got to keep you close by. We can go on Dumbo, let’s go get in line” Joe said after he got him to settle enough to listen, his little arms flailing with elation at his dad’s word. You look at your two boys with a warm feeling in your chest, knowing today was the day you were going to tell him he was 

After quite a few rides, it was getting to be lunch time. You could tell that your boys were hungry, knowing you’d need to stop for food soon if you were gonna keep at it for the rest of the day. Your little boy was starting to get a little hangry, ready to throw a tantrum when he was told to wait for his mouse ears hat he wanted. You assured him he would get it, after he got some much needed food in his belly. That was, until you realized this was the perfect opportunity for your reveal idea.

“Hey hun, would you be able to grab us some lunch? I’ll wait for the hat to get made and meet you both at the table” you said, silently hoping he would abide by your request. The food court wasn’t far from the stand, knowing he could keep an eye on you from a close distance.

“Sure thing, want your go-to?” he asked, your boy in his arms resting on his side. You nodded, giving him a kiss of approval before he walked off to get some lunch. You exhaled a breath you didn;t realize you were holding in, knowing this would be a big moment for you two.

You got to talking with the park employee that was working the stand, explaining your idea to her and gushing over how cute it was going to be. You were going to have your son’s name stitched into the front of the hat. On the back, you had her add in “Big Brother”, letting the reveal come from the little hat on your son's head. She got it back to you fairly quickly, the sight of it beginning tears to your eyes from how happy this life has made you. 

You were excited to be growing your family with the man of your dreams, snapping yourself out of your thoughts to compose yourself. You were making your way to your family when your heart melted all over again. Joe and your son were sitting at a picnic bench, your son trying his hardest to reach the table on his own from the bench seat, but being lifted up by Joe to be sat on his lap. He seemed perfectly content with the new seat, easily able to reach his food on his own. 

Joe looked up at you as you approached the table, a big grin across his face when you sat down. Your son had matched his energy, eyes lighting up when he saw you with the ears in hand.

“Hey mamas, we got you some chicken tenders and fries” Joe said while your son had cut him off “those are your favorite, mine too” he said as he reached over to take some of your fries with his little hands. You laughed as he did so, pushing the small tray closer so that he could reach. 

“I got your hat for you sweetheart, we can put it on after we eat. What ride do you wanna go on next?” you asked, hoping to keep his immediate focus off of the hat clutched in your hands. He placed his index finger on his chin, tapping as if he was deep in thought. He pointed his finger straight up with a look of surprise on his face when he must've made his decision.

“I wanna see Mickey Minnie castle” he cheered happily. You couldn’t say no, even if that was on the other side of the park from where you were currently. You and Joe exchanged looks, knowing one of you was going to be carrying him not too long into your walk.

As you got closer to the castle, your son was itching to walk. He looked absolutely adorable with his little ears on, seeing the secret stitched onto the back as you walked close behind your boys. You snapped a quick picture as they walked up to the castle, knowing this would be a memory you wouldn’t want to forget. 

When you reached the castle, you asked one of the many photographers around to get a photo of the three of you. The photographer snapped a couple of shots, thanking her and moving on before you made your move towards the reveal. 

“Joe why don’t you flip his ears around, I think there was something on the back” you said nonchalantly as you stepped away from him. He tilted his head in confusion, but listened to your words. You watched as he slipped the elastic band from under your son’s chin and turned the back to the front, pausing to read the words in front of him. 

Joe turned his head slowly towards you as he processed the words “Big Brother” on your son's head. He seemed at a loss for words for a few seconds before he spoke up.

“Are you serious? You’re pregnant again?” his voice hopeful as you saw tears begin to well in his eyes. You gave him a small nod as tears started to come up for you too. Joe took a few steps over to you with your son in his arms as he embraced you in as tight of a hug he could muster.

“I’m so damn happy baby, how long have you known?” Joe questioned, his voice full of adoration from the news. 

“Not too long, it’s the whole reason I haven’t been feeling well. It’s been the hardest secret I’ve had to keep, you have no idea how badly I wanted to tell you” you laughed lightly, watching him process and a realization cross his face.

“I knew you couldn’t have gotten something from work that fast. God, I’m so excited I get to go through all of this with you, this was such a cute way to tell me even though I wish I knew sooner so I could’ve been there for you more” he set your son down, giving you a one-armed squeeze while your son grabbed onto your leg.

“Everything you did and still do for me is perfect. You’re an amazing dad to our little boy and I can’t wait to see how you handle one more little boy or girl” you said, giving him a kiss to add a finality to your words.

“Is it bad that I’m hoping for a girl so we both can have our own little minis?” Joe asked while lifting your son onto his shoulders to give him a good view.

“I just know you would be an amazing girl dad if it’s anything like how you treat me” you said, imagining Joe with your daughter and knowing how much he would spoil her.

“If I treat you like my queen, I would treat her like my princess,” he said as you all looked up at the castle in front of you. Your life felt like a fairytale that you got to live with your dream man.

[woaza]

LOVE LOVE LOVE UR SCAR STUFF!!! I am so glad he's starting to get stuff written for him he's so awesome!!!! Please keep going feed us scar fiends

Scar (Arcane) x reader || Pt.2

Link to Pt.1

Contains : Continuation of my head cannons and thoughts on scar in a relationship and as a person.

Word count : 3.4k

Warnings : Scars baby mama being a little crazy(?), grief, mentions of death, some of this is kind of a stretch?

A/n : I HEAVILY AGREE with you! He needs more written about him. I can never find any it’s so strange. I’m so glad you liked my last scar fic. I will definitely continue to do them! I have a lot of requests for other characters, but I need some of him.

— Scar is a Vastaya or more specially a Chirean. Well at least some form of a Chirean? (At least from what little there is about him.) Chirean’s were first discovered by a Zaunite miner. They can’t speak human languages but are bat like. Which scar is. So I don’t know if he is a Chirean or at least some sort of subspecies or a descendent. Since he is classified as one and there is very little known about them.

— One thing we know about Chireans are that they are Omnivorous. So they don’t really have any diet restrictions, but most real bats are fruit bats. So Scar will eat meat and vegetables, but fruits are definitely a favorite of his. Just think about it. In the slums food is hard enough to keep on the table. Sweet things (not to mention difficult to grow) like fruits are a rare treat. Scar feels like they are a special treat, but something about fruit just makes him happy. (So bonus points if you have a fruity perfume or cologne?)

— With those bright green eyes of his can definitely see great in the dark. With that being said also more sensitive to lights. When the two of you wake up in the morning he groans in annoyance so loudly when you turn on your nightstand light. Which yes, nobody likes seeing the bright light first thing in the morning. But for him it’s ten times worse. He will burry his face against your body, looking for an escape from the light.

Though with his eyes comes many benefits. Like Late night walks with him are a must. When his daughter (Who in my head I’ve been calling Petra but I read a cute fic where she was called Riri. So I’m in debate of what her name is but I digress) is being watched by Ekko or someone else he trusts, he’ll take you out on late night walks. He loves to hold you close, helping guide you when you can’t see because it’s too dark.

— When you two first start to see each other more romantically. He literally pretends to be so nonchalant. Acting like he’s above slightly cheesy romantic activities. At the start is the type to watch you dance instead of joining in. Despite desperately wanting to. He just wants to make sure your really in it for the long run and not a quick fling. Scar takes his relationships very seriously, especially because of his daughter.

—Since we are in the topic of his daughter, Baby mama? I could see this going a couple different ways— and I don’t know which is worse.

The first way is that he never had a good relationship with her. Maybe it was a hookup or a messy situation in general. He grew up in the slums and probably wasn’t the greatest of a person himself. “True love” wasn’t really the top of his concerns. Until him and this woman had a daughter together. He (immediately) was ready to become more serious because a child was involved (probably because he felt uncared for in his childhood, not wanting to do that to a child?). Though she didn’t want that and hesitated. Eventually leaving him to raise her by himself.

The second way I could see, is him truly falling in love with someone. Finally having a family and starting to build a life. Having a daughter and a small place to call home, that is until the city’s were flooded with shimmer. Losing his wife/partner to it and will never forget her.

In either case I think the mother of his child is another reason he’s kind of concerned with romance and getting closer to you in general. Scared that everything that happened will just repeat itself.

A/n: maybe more of this? I like making these. BUT I love this photo of him sm. I think it’s cute he’s just genuinely smiling at his daughter.

[ghouldtime]

Neighbor! König Part 2

Part One

Part Three

After you expressed interest in his miniature collection, he actually actively OFFICIALLY invited you over one evening (and inside!)

It may not sound like much to most to be invited into someone's house but for him, it's the ultimate trust. His house is his private space, his sanctuary, where he goes to be without other people

He doesn't ever invite anyone inside unless necessary or they've truly gained his trust and being invited INTO his house, and actually into a shared space of one of the hobbies that matter the most to him?? Yeah, that's how he says he likes you

He's been working on his models and dioramas for so so long he's incredibly proud and can't help but to want to actually show them off to someone who wants to see

Usually most people don't care :( or think it's weird

But you've embraced it! You're so excited and he's over the moon, he's having the best day ever, if you do research and bring him gifts or show him some new ideas

He has exquisite attention to detail and INSISTS on everything being exactly the way he envisions it. And you notice! You actually notice. Which means you care about his hobbies, the work he puts in, and therefore him

It might be a bit early to say the L word but he's feeling certain ways

He may be a big dude but that doesn't mean he lacks fine motor skills. He's laying those tiny pieces of moss onto the cobble stones like a PRO

Miniatures allow him control over the environment, even if it's on a smaller scale, and offer a way to keep his hands and mind busy so he often throws himself into it

It also helps him relive happier memories. He's afraid of forgetting them and when he's stressing, it's his happy place because he can look at them and simply remember the things in life that matter

He'll ask you about a story you like or a favorite show or book or movie. That's his next miniature planned (in secret. Can't ruin the surprise, he needs to have it all perfect. He will either read the book, watch the movie, will study EVERY detail)

He will start to invite you over when he's having a painting night or is working on them. You don't have to follow his rules or do what he wants! He's just happy you're there and appreciating it

He will always have your favorite snacks and drinks in stock too. Need to make it fun and can't have you going hungry

If you want, he'll put on background noise! He's happy to make it immersive and to light a candle or put something in a diffuser to really set the scene you're going for. But he's perfectly happy to hangout with you as is

You'll finally get to hear him laugh and hear his really, really bad jokes. He has a dry sense of humor and most of what he says isn't even close to funny, he's awkward like that

But if you laugh? That's it, he's sold.

Time flies so fast when you're over, you don't even realize it's 3am

You don't need to go home! I know it's right across the street but he has a guest room and it saves you the trip in the morning. You have a whole nother round of characters to paint :)

Okay maybe it was an excuse so you could see the curtains he'd made and the pillows and he decorated the guest room with! Like actually tried decorating. They're made with love, that's what counts right?

Did he spray the pillows with his cologne before you came over? Maybe, but he won't ever admit to it

You can't complain. Not when he insists it's no trouble at all, you should stay over, and he does everything he can to make you comfortable.

And you're certainly not complaining when you wake up to breakfast in bed

He's so happy to finally have someone to share his life with, even if it's nothing official. He might not say it because words are hard, but he'll always show it in every way that he can 💚

If you look closely at the replica he made of his childhood home, you'll notice two figures in the kitchen who just so happen to look like you and him

Proud believer of König being just a guy! A guy with hobbies! A guy with a calm domestic life! Just because he's a private military contractor doesn't mean he's a constantly violent dude or a guy who lacks an immense amount of respect for boundaries. Sure, he gets really into his job when he does it, but that's his realm! That's his zone. That's why he's confident and having fun, he knows he's good

Outside of work, he's just a guy with a troubled childhood making the best of life and trying to find his own sense of belonging, happiness, and peace

Justice for König, he's not an insane perv or some freakytron or some stalker :(