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#please follow my bestie if you don’t
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tumblr staff is cowards btw for not putting it on ur activity graph when u lose a follower
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say what you will about zukka shippers, but i think that one of the best things about us is that we don’t tag any post we make that even remotely mentions zuko or sokka with “zukka”
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Remember when I made a post abt kaizen yea that was funny I should do that again
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bigfatbimbo · 2 months
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on my knees begging for some Lucifer smut. Hes such a dork I need him biblically 😭
OMG LITERALLY SAME I LOVE HIM SO MUCH I WANNA EAT HIM UP 🫶🫶
anyways i’m obsessed with him so i’m gonna do nsfw hcs and a little drabble at the end bc bestie i need him too
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art by hellpple_hz on twitters
❀˖° So let me just say, if been a long time since he’s gotten laid so he’s probably so nervous about it.
❀˖° I could see him being a switch but never really a hard dom, more of a sevice top. Like when he tops it would be all about your needs.
❀˖° He definitely loves, probably prefers, when you take control and treat him. He loves feeling cared for it’s so sad.
❀˖° Has a huge praise kink, giving and receiving. He just likes to know he’s doing well. 
❀˖° “good boy” “pretty boy” “pretty baby” are his favorites because he really wants to feel appreciated by you.
❀˖° If you call him on of those during sex he’ll probably whine on the spot because he’s just pathetic like that.
❀˖° Intimacy while doing it is a must. Like please hold his hand when you tell him you’re close. He wants to feel as connected to you as possible.
❀˖° I’m pretty sure Lilith canonically pegged him so… yeah he’s very into that. Being fully taken care of by you while you’re fucking your strap into him.
❀˖° He’s the king of hell and he’s probably very stressed all the time so not having to think or make decisions would make him very happy.
❀˖° When he tops, I feel like he also praises you a lot. I also don’t see him being too dominate and rough.
❀˖° His style is definitely more gentle and caring as he fucks you. He fucks you like you’re made of porcelain, not wanting to break you and only wanting to let you know how perfect you are.
❀˖° I don’t think he’s extremely kinky but I do think he’s SUPER VOCAL. Have you heard his voice? he just sounds like he whines.
❀˖° If you praise him too much he probably tears up under all the attention. Lovingly fucking him and telling him he’s perfect? He will actually cry.
❀˖° When he goes into subspace he’s actually so cute. He just begs you to tell him how well he’s doing and that you love him. To the point where he doesn’t even understand anything else if it’s not praise.
❀˖° Also very sweet during aftercare! Definitely makes breakfast for you the morning after.
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“Just like that baby, you’re doing so good for me,” you cooed as you rode lucifer into what be another orgasm of the night. 
“My love, nngh, please,” he whimpered and threw his head back. His face was puffy from crying and his hair was in shambles from all the attention.
“So pretty like this, sweetheart. So pretty, letting me use you as a toy,” you smile as he lets out a broken whimper from the praise. 
A tear rolls down his cheek and he lets out a soft whine when you roll your hips and pick up the pace. 
You lean forward and breathe into his neck, “you’re doing amazing, Luci, you’re taking it so well.”
He half sobs and arches his back. You pepper kisses all over his tear-covered as your hands lovingly trace his body.
“Please…” he whispers pathetically, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Please what, baby?” You say sweetly as you continue to milk him dry with your pussy.
“Please,” his brows furrow tightly as if he’s trying to remember how to speak under all the pleasure, “please let me cum.”
You smile and ride him faster, starting to loose composure yourself now. 
“Whenever you want, Luci,” you sigh and let your head fall slightly back as you feel your own climax approaching.
Lucifer whined loudly and bucked his hips up into your cunt. 
“My love, nngh,” he moaned uselessly as his eyes filled with more tears. You picked up the pace and Lucifer arched into your touch, chasing his orgasm.
“Good boy, making me feel so good, baby.”
That was his breaking point. With your climax following soon after, he moaned loudly, finally releasing and falling back onto the mattress, chest heaving. 
“Oh my goodness,” he panted, “Th-thank you, my love.” He shut his eyes and softly smiled, exhaustion finally setting in.
“You did amazing,” you say softly, leaning down to kiss his cheek before picking yourself up off of his overstimulated cock.
His eyes fluttered open slightly when he felt your hand slowly tracing down to the base of his cock.
“But we’re not done yet.” 
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a/n: real men say ‘oh my goodness’ after an orgasm
remember that
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catsharkie · 2 months
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what if ds9 had tumble
capsisko
the wormhole :) 
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i-identify-starships-in-posts follow
klingon bird of prey, cloaked.
capsisko
?
(2373 notes)
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skrainfanboy5997notdukat follow
Gul Dukat did nothing wrong.
wormzallday
f
juuuuulian
u
(9208 notes)
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miles-edward-obrien
I thought I had work today, but no, the time loop.
(0 notes)
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ziyart 
STATUS UPDATE, I WON THE ART COMPETITION! 
#THERE WAS NO ONE ELSE IN THE COMPETITION!
(9 notes)
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kiranerys
If another thing breaks on this station i swear to the prophets
kiranerys 
the replicator just sent someone to the infirmary. our doctor is running on negative 60 hours of sleep at least
kiranerys
i just want a raktajino
kiranerys
@miles-edward-obrien get your ass in here
(23 notes)
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sponsored 
come to quarks, quarks is fun, come right now, don’t walk, run!
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miles-edward-obrien
I thought I had work today, but no, the time loop.
(0 notes)
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juuuuulian
no sleep for 55 hours and counting!
juuuuulian
56 hours and counting!
juuuuulian
57 hours!
juuuuulian
where is miles
wormzallday
julian please
(7 notes)
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n0gg
ah yes. me. my bestie. and his 50k word fanfic draft.
jakeosaurus
YOU asked ME if you could beta
n0gg
its funnier if i blame you
#lol
(93 notes)
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juuuuulian
no sleep for 55 hours and counting!
juuuuulian
56 hours and counting!
juuuuulian
57 hours!
juuuuulian
where is miles
(7 notes)
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ziyart
MY FRIENDS TOLD ME I CAN TYPE IN ALL CAPS!
# IM NEVER GOING TO TALK IN LOWERCASE EVER AGAIN!
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miles-edward-obrien
I thought I had work today, but no, the time loop.
(0 notes)
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garaksclothiers
So many accusations in my inbox! You people certainly are creative.
odododo
I know you’ve killed before. You’ve barely tried to hide it
garaksclothiers
Oh? You hate me and my whimsy?
odododo 
I’m going to make a callout document on you.
(12 notes)
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jakeosaurus
if the voles had subspace i think it would look like this
skittering-002
i love being in conduits undisturbed
pittering-pattering follow
I CAST PLASMA BEAM 10000 DEATHS
skittering-002
AHHHHH
(201 tiny notes)
the-scuttler
scuttling
the scuttler
easy website
(10032 tiny notes)
n0gg
the station is under attack stop vole blogging
jakeosaurus
do you think skittering-002 and pittering-pattering were in love
(38 notes)
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deepspacenineofficial
Apologies for the high pitched whining! Our shields are activated, we are currently under attack. There is also an ion storm passing through.
miles-edward-obrien
If I get stuck in a time vortex again I swear to god
miles-edward-obrien
FUCK
(203 notes)
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deepspacenineofficial
Apologies for the high pitched whining! Our shields are activated, we are currently under attack. There is also an ion storm passing through.
miles-edward-obrien
If I get stuck in a time vortex again I swear to god
(203 notes)
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jakeosaurus
if the voles had subspace i think it would look like this
skittering-002
i love being in conduits undisturbed
pittering-pattering follow
I CAST PLASMA BEAM 10000 DEATHS
skittering-002
AHHHHH
(201 tiny notes)
the-scuttler
scuttling
the scuttler
easy website
(10032 tiny notes)
(38 notes)
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n0gg
wormzallday
i really wish women were real
(1348 notes)
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kiranerys
guldukat follow
#YES
(1024766 notes)
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sodacowboy · 1 year
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I’m listening to my 2022 y*utube recap playlist because I don’t feel like Choosing TM and my lord the amount of jarring tone shifts that are happening is honestly hilarious
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asahicore · 3 months
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bad news first - sjy (m)
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this work contains smut - minors please do not interact pairing. jake x fem!reader synopsis. From the moment you'd met at eight to the day he moved to South Korea at fourteen, you and Jake were inseparable. But after years of being apart, you've come to terms with the fact that at twenty, you and Jake just aren't what you used to be. That is until you get a text from him, and all of a sudden, he's back by your side, doing his year abroad at the university you study at, and all your feelings for him float back up to the surface. genre. college au, childhood friends to ???? to lovers, painful mutual pining, one bed trope..... a sprinkle of angst (my hand slipped) but mostly fluff i promise and smut (mdni!!!), also i made sunghoon really weird in this and idkw, this is set in scotland.. edinburgh uni rep!! word count. 23k author's note. everybody say happy belated birthday to @zreamy.. happy belated birthday zo!!! being 22 years and 6 days old is cooler than just 22 years old anyway.. hope you like it bestie... if you dont... well theres a building on campus thats 17 stories high sooo.. enjoy! i hope everyone else enjoys too, since this is a bday fic for zo she couldnt beta read so i had to raw dog this so if its terrible.. not my fault! lmk what u think!! i also made a playlist for this, do listen along!!
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“Alright kids, good news or bad news first?”
You looked at your teacher, then at the boy next to you, then back at your teacher. “Bad news first,” you said in unison.
You were only eight, but you were both wise enough to know that hearing good news second would assuage the blow of whatever these bad news were. Miss Dawson sighed as she crouched in front of you. “The bad news is your bus driver is on strike and won’t be coming. The good news is that your parents have been informed and are coming to pick you up soon.”
Following her instructions, you headed to the gymnasium and sat there silently among the other kids. Not many kids in your class rode the bus home, and the ones who did seemed to have drivers not on strike, so it was just the two of you. You were used to that, though - over January and February, you had made a sort of silent pact to stand and wait for the bus together. You sometimes shared snacks, but you never spoke. For some reason, you felt at ease with this boy, even though you didn’t know much about him. You had heard he had moved to Brisbane just at the start of this year, all the way from South Korea. You were pretty sure his name was Jake.
You handed him one of your Twix bars. Then he spoke. “I thought a strike was when you did really well in bowling.”
“Same,” you replied, mouth full of chocolate and caramel. “I’m not sure why that would keep the bus driver from picking us up.”
Jake looked at you with wide eyes, distress clear in them. “Do you think he went bowling instead of picking us up?”
This made you frown. “That’d be really rude.”
“It would. I always make sure to go bowling on the weekends, ‘cause if I missed school that’d be rude to Miss Dawson.”
You nodded your head in fervent agreement. “For sure.”
That weekend, his mum called your mum to ask if you wanted to go to the bowling alley with them. From then on, for the next six years, you were stuck together by glue. 
--
Twelve years later, Jake’s name appearing on your phone screen has become such a rare sight, you don’t believe it right away. It takes you a few seconds of intense squinting at the letters to actually realise your eyes aren’t deceiving you.
jake.sim15 hey y/n!! you go to edinburgh uni right?
You type and delete three different responses before settling for a simple yeah, I am! what’s up?, hoping you sounded nonchalant even though you very much felt chalant. You thought that whatever you sent wouldn’t be as weird as taking forever to answer such a straightforward question. 
As you wait for Jake’s reply, you scroll through your previous shared messages, noting with sadness that for three years in a row, the only instances you’d texted were to wish each other a happy birthday or when he reacted with a fire emoji to Stories of your dog, Milo. Before that, your last conversation was to congratulate each other about getting into your top choice universities and to discuss plans for your respective futures.
Futures that used to include each other, you think. His reply appears at the bottom of your screen before melancholy can fill your heart.
jake.sim15 i applied to go there for my year abroad next year annnnd i got in !! heh
You shoot up straight from your seat on the lounge chaise you’d been sunbathing on, a loud “Oh my God!” involuntarily escaping your mouth. 
“What? What happened? Is everything okay?” Chaewon asks frantically, rushing over to your side. “Oh,” she says when she sees your phone. “It’s a text… from a boy?” 
This makes Yunjin, previously unbothered by your panic, rise from her seat and take off her sunglasses. “A boy? Show me,” she demands, snatching your phone from your hands before you can protest. Upon seeing the texts on your screen, she lets out a loud gasp. “It’s not just any boy! It’s the one and only Jake Sim himself.”
“Give that back!” you plead, hand reaching for your phone, but Yunjin is already walking away.
“And he’s coming to Edi this September, apparently. He says he’s sorry for not saying anything earlier, but he was waiting for an answer up until now.” She scoffs. “Leave it to our uni to tell someone they’re in less than two months before term starts. Oh, you’re the first person he’s told, Y/N! After his parents. How cute,” she coos, protesting when you snatch your phone back from her. “Hey! I was reading that.”
“Those are my texts, Yunjin. I’m the one who’s meant to read them.”
She shrugs. “You would’ve told us anyway.”
“What are you going to reply?” Chaewon asks. With the both of them hovering over your shoulders and watching as you type a response, a sort of stage fright comes over you, making you send what might be the most unoriginal reply known to man.
“Awesome? Seriously, Y/N?” Yunjin reads, disproportionately disgusted with you.
“That’s a lot of exclamation marks. It almost makes it look like you don’t mean it,” Chaewon says.
“I do mean it!”
“Well, he seems to like it. A smiling-with-teeth emoji is a good sign, right?” she asks in an attempt to make you feel better.
“He has automatic caps off. That man is run-through,” Yunjin says, shaking her head as she walks back to her sunbed.
“You were excited about him texting me just a second ago,” you reproach.
“Yeah, before I found out he was a whore.”
“Yunjin, you know we don't slut-shame here!” Chaewon exclaims. Before Yunjin can say anything even worse in response, your phone starts ringing, and Jake’s name appears on your screen. “He’s calling you?” Chaewon gasps, making Yunjin sit up with a start for the second time in less than five minutes.
“This man is insane,” she remarks with all the seriousness in the world.
You run away from your friends, finding refuge in the outside kitchen area out of earshot. They don’t need to hear your conversation with Jake. You love them, but they can be weirdly unsupportive in moments like these.
“Hey, Jake,” you greet, hoping he doesn’t notice the breathlessness in your voice. It was because you had just ran, of course - you didn’t want him to think you were so nervous about talking to him after such a long time, you could barely breathe. Because you weren’t. At all.
“Hey, Y/N!” he replies, and the excitement in his voice makes your heart melt. “I hope it’s not weird that I called, I just thought it’d be nicer than texting, is that okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine, it’s nice to hear your voice,” you say before you can really think about it, and cringe at your own words. Years without talking and the world’s worst line is the first thing you say to Jake. Thankfully, before you start excruciating yourself, a chuckle pours out of Jake’s throat and blesses your ears.
“It’s nice to hear your voice, too. What are you up to?” 
“Oh, I’m on vacation with my friends. One of them has a rich aunt who owns a villa in southern Italy, so we’re just chilling by the pool right now.” 
“You always wanted to go to Italy! That sounds so nice,” he says. Your breath catches gently in your throat - he remembers, you note.
“Yeah, it really is. What about you, how are you spending the summer?”
Jake tells you about the local bookstore owned by a grandpa that’s always had a soft spot for him and that gave him a part-time job for the summer. “I’m trying to save up as much money as I can before I leave. If I treat you to a meal, will you show me around the city?” he asks, and you can hear the grin in his voice. It makes you realise how much you’ve actually missed him.
“You don’t need to treat me to a meal, I’ll show you around anyway.” 
Still, he insists, and you find yourself giving in quickly - because it’s Jake or because free food is on the table, you’re not sure. Probably both. 
You and Jake get to talking, but fitting years and years of catching up into one conversation is an impossible task, and before you know it, when you check your phone, you’ve been talking for over an hour. Yunjin is angrily waving at you, pointing at her stomach to indicate hunger like a caveman who’s just learned how to communicate. You apologise to Jake, telling him you have to go, and plan to meet during fresher’s week before you hang up.
A few hours later, you get a text from him saying it was nice talking to you and jokingly asking whether Yunjin was satisfied with lunch. It’s innocuous, but it opens a gate for more texting, which leads to long, rambling voice messages, which leads to late-night phone calls that remind you of when you were fifteen and still kept in touch. When August fades into September, you feel like you’ve got your best friend back. 
You remember why you were so in love with him at fourteen.
--
You see Jake before he sees you.  
Among the throngs of people, you manage to spot the dark, messy flop of hair on his head weighed down by a nice pair of wireless headphones. After a thirteen-hour flight from Seoul, a four-hour layover in Frankfurt and a final, two-hour flight to Edinburgh, he looks rightfully exhausted, using what looks like the last of his energy to spot the exit and the airport bus stop. Even wearing a simple denim jacket, white tee and grey sweatpants, he’s so gorgeous you forget what you came here for, until he almost walks right past you without seeing you. You put yourself in his path and hold your hand-written banner up, making yourself as obvious as you can as you call out his name. 
When he sees you, he stops dead in his tracks for a second, someone almost running into him before he remembers the crowd behind him. His tired features break out into a bright smile that has your heartbeat speeding up so much, you think it might run out of your chest. 
He had told you not to come, that it would be late for you and he didn’t want to bother you, but you had managed to get the information of his arrival before he forbade you from picking him up so you did it anyway, wanting to surprise him. After years of being apart, rather than waiting another day, you wanted to see him as soon as possible.
Jake briskly makes his way to you, dropping his bags next to him on the floor as he engulfs you in a hug, warm and tight as if he’s trying to make up for all those years. You hug him back as if someone would appear out of thin air and take him away from you again.
“This was the longest day of my life, I’m so happy to see you,” he says when he pulls away, and you’re so happy you can’t even say anything back, resorting to giggling and lightly swatting non-existent dust off of his shoulders. 
As you wait for the bus, he tells you about every trivial thing that happened to him on his trip, from how expensive a sandwich is at the airport to the German kid sitting in front of him that kept turning around to stare at him on his second flight.
“How did you know he was German?” you ask, amused.
Jake pauses. “Just vibes.”
Conversation on the bus is slightly disjointed as you jump from topic to topic with random pauses here and there before one of you finds something to talk about - but it’s okay, you hadn’t expected for the two of you to be as easy as before. It’s more awe at seeing each other after such a long time than awkwardness. Even though you’d caught up over summer, there was a world of difference between speaking on the phone and actually sitting next to him. You notice things like the shine of his hair, the creases that form on the sides of his lips when he smiles, or, unfortunately for you, the veins that run along his forearms and hands - things you hadn’t noticed previously thanks to the sometimes questionable quality of the front camera of his phone. Once in a while, your thigh brushes against his, and it reminds you that he’s really here. Even that he’s real, at all. 
In a tragic turn of events, Jake lives in the student accommodation you used to live in in first year, and coming back to it two years later is slightly traumatising. His three-person flat is in a different building as your old one, and you marvel at how it somehow still smells the same - like dusty, decade-old carpeting and the permanent stench of students’ dubitable cooking. He’s the first one to move in, which makes the place slightly eerie, but it means that you’re not bothering anyone by unpacking Jake’s stuff and cooking Shin Ramyun the previous tenants had left behind at 11pm. 
Your late dinner was meant for you to take a small break, watch a couple episodes of Friends which Jake had been shocked to learn you’d never watched, and you had been shocked to learn he was a die-hard fan of (since one year ago), then get back to unpacking. But the ramen sends an already exhausted Jake into a food coma so intense, he falls asleep on your shoulder five minutes into the second episode. 
You let him sleep as long as he needs, turning the volume down on his laptop and stifling your chuckles as much as you can. You feel like a cat has fallen asleep in your lap - you are now obliged by law to stay still until Jake wakes up. It’s not until an hour later that Jake’s uncomfortable sleeping position forces him awake, lifting his head off of your shoulder with a grunt. He looks around himself, at his room that’s not quite familiar to him yet, then at you, eyes still scrunched with sleepiness as a grin blooms onto his lips.
“Sorry,” clearing his throat of its grogginess. “What time is it?”
“It’s almost one a.m,” you reply, and his eyes go wide.
“You should’ve woken me up! Does your shoulder hurt?” he asks, much more alarmed than he should be, and it makes you laugh.
“It’s all good. But now that you’re awake, I should probably head home.” 
“I’ll get you an Uber,” he says, already pulling out his phone. 
“It’s fine, Jake, my place is a ten-minute walk from here. I live just up the road.”
Jake’s fingers on his phone pause as he looks up at you. “Then I’ll walk you home.” He lifts a finger in warning when he sees you start to protest. “And don’t fight me on this. You did so much today, it’s the least I can do.”
As much as you love the idea of spending more time with Jake, even if it’s just ten minutes, you still don’t want to bother him when you know how tired he is. “It’s really safe around here. I can just text you when I’m home, if you’re worried about me getting kidnapped or something,” you say, taking his jacket from his hands and placing it back on his desk chair.
He grabs it back, putting it on before you can take it from him again, and rummages through one of his suitcases for a black, woolly scarf. Neither of you speaks as he wraps it tight around your neck, even though the early September weather isn’t cold enough to warrant it. His hands stop briefly on the scarf and a small smile spreads on his lips. You hope he doesn’t hear your sharp intake of breath when your eyes meet. “It’s not about that,” he says simply, voice low and unlike you’ve ever heard it before. You don’t think his voice had quite finished cracking when he’d moved away back then. 
Suddenly, he steps away, grabs his keys, and heads for the door. “Let’s go!” he says, voice back to its usual cheery tone. You don’t find it in you to question him, so you just follow him out, welcoming the night breeze that cools down your burning cheeks with open arms. 
The walk to your place is mostly done in comfortable silence, but it still goes by too quickly for your liking. You keep your hands in your pockets to prevent yourself from doing something stupid, like reaching out for Jake’s hand that swishes back-and-forth as he walks. Instead, you bury your nose in his scarf and relish in the unfamiliar but comforting smell that his cologne has left behind on the fabric. You hug goodbye when you reach your flat, and you have to remind yourself to let go. He insists on you keeping the scarf. “My mum packed me, like, three, so you can have that one.” 
“Your mum still pack your things for you, does she?” you ask, tone playful.
“No-” he says, voice slightly whiny, before he realises you’re just teasing him. “Whatever,” he chuckles, ruffling your hair. You hope the streetlights aren’t bright enough for him to notice the flustered look on your face. The both of you stand there awkwardly for a second, before he lets out another chuckle. “Right. See you tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” you beam.
“Okay,” he says, but still doesn’t make a move to leave. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll be off then.” He gives you one last smile then turns around, burying his hands in his pockets, and you watch as he walks away.
“Get home safe,” you call out after a few seconds. 
He pivots on his heels, and, with a wave of his hand, says, “I will! Go inside.”
“Good night!”
“Night, Y/N!”
When you walk into your living room, Yunjin is sitting on the couch, arms crossed over her chest, gaze trained on the wall opposite her, one lamp lighting the otherwise completely dark room. She looks like a detective in one of those bad cop shows.
“Gosh, what’s all this for?”
“You’re back awfully late,” she says, neither looking at you nor answering your question.
“Yeah, I was with Jake,” you shrug, heading into the kitchen for a glass of water. She abruptly gets up from her seat, following you into the other room and staying close behind you.
“And?” she demands, mouth way too close to your ear and making you start.
“And what?” you ask. 
“What do you mean and what?!” she says, clearly agitated. “I want to know everything!”
“There’s nothing to say, really. He seemed happy I picked him up from the airport, then I helped him unpack. He lives in Riego, by the way.”
“Ew.”
“I know, it was awful going back there.”
The two of you stare at each other as you drink your water. “Well?” she asks.
“What?”
“Is that it?”
You fill your glass again to take it into your bedroom. “I don’t know, we just ate and watched Friends.”
“You hate shows with laughing tracks,” she states like it’s an accusation.
“It wasn’t actually that bad,” you reply, shrugging.
She tuts. “Love will do ugly, ugly things to a person.”
“You’ve been in a loving relationship for the past two years.”
“This isn’t about me. Can we talk about how you’re still in love with the same loser from when you were ten?”
“I was fourteen, and don’t call Jake a loser when you haven’t even met him.” You ignore the roll of her eyes. “And I’m not. Not anymore. I’m just happy to have my friend back.” Yunjin gives you a look. “Okay, maybe I’m still a little bit in love with him. But it’s so little, it’s barely there.” Her expression is unchangingly unimpressed and you can’t help but throw in the towel. “Alright, fine. I still love him, what about it?”
“You’re pathetic.”
“I know that, no need to remind me.”
“Are you gonna do something about it?”
“My patheticness? I’ve tried, didn’t really work.”
“No, idiot, about Jake. You should go and get him! It’d be so sexy if you got together as 20-somethings after knowing each other since you were babies.”
“We were eight when we met. And I don’t know if sexy is the word I’d use here.”
“Anything is sexy if you try hard enough,” she says, and you have to laugh. “Anyways, you should confess your undying love and tell him you’ve felt that way since you met.”
“I wasn’t-”
“Guys might not show it, but they probably get all hot for stuff like that. Boosts their ego and shit.”
“Yunjin, I just got my friend back, I’m not gonna risk it. Plus, who knows, I might not actually be in love with him. It might just be my emotions acting up, like, seeing someone I used to like after a while. We’ve both changed so much, once I get to know him more now, I might not even feel the way I used to.”
“Notice how you’ve used the word might twice in ten seconds? You’re just trying to find excuses.”
You groan. “This is why I hate English Lit people.”
“You do English Lit.”
“I know, and I’m the only nice person that does it.” In your head, you add and Jake, but saying it out loud would only make this conversation worse for you.
“What’s that scarf, by the way? Did he give you that?”
You look down at the scarf like it’s a piece of incriminating evidence. “Can you stop grilling me, please? It’s late.”
“You’re not answering my question.”
You sighed deeply. “Fine. Yes, he gave me-”
“It’s not even that cold outside!” she exclaimed in an outrage. “Don’t tell me he also walked you home?”
You pause. “He did.”
She gasped. “He walked you home because he’s in love with you.”
“He walked me home because he’s a good friend that looks after me.”
“He walked you home because he realised how hot you’ve gotten and he wants some of that.”
All you can do is sigh. “Whatever. I’m going to bed.”
“If you weren’t such a coward, you wouldn’t be going to bed alone.”
“Whatever!” you say, shutting the door behind you, shaking that preposterous conversation out of your head. When you get into bed, it takes you at least half-an-hour before you can settle down, but you know your constant tossing and turning isn’t due to your inability to find a comfortable enough position to sleep in. Between your evening with Jake and Yunjin’s pestering, thoughts run wild and incoherent through your head. 
You want to tell her every little thing that happened with Jake tonight, but you’re afraid it might do you more harm than good. She is most definitely the type of friend who will take the smallest action a guy did for you or the most meaningless thing he might have said and turn it into a sign that he has the hots for you, which usually does wonders for your confidence, but right now, you don’t need that kind of delusion. Did seeing your childhood best friend you used to secretly harbour feelings for make you feel some type of way? Of course, but that doesn’t mean you still love him after all this time, after six years of being apart, the majority of those years spent with no contact. It wasn’t like you parted ways with resentment, or anything of that sort, far from it; rather, you drifted apart naturally, as two teenagers with over 7000 kilometres between them would. At first, you’d call frequently and even write each other letters - but as you became more preoccupied with school, friends, and extracurriculars, your phones gradually rang less and your mailboxes became gradually emptier. You don’t even remember who sent the last, unanswered letter. 
Tonight isn’t the first time you replay the moment Jake announced that he would go away, but it’s the first time it’s a bittersweet memory. It used to only be bitter - but now that you’ve reconnected, you can look back at it with fondness, wishing you could tell fourteen-year-old you the hurt would only last so long. 
It hadn’t started unusually.
“So, bad news first, right?”
In your six years of friendship with Jake, this had been the first time you’d really been wary of what he would say next. The look on his face told you that this bad news wouldn’t be as easy to shake off as usual. Your definition of bad news was things like I got grounded so I can’t hang out, I forgot we had a test tomorrow so I can’t hang out, my allergies are acting up again so I can’t hang out.
“I’m moving to Korea next month.”
I’m on another continent, so I can’t hang out.
You remember the words not quite making sense at the time. “Oh? How long are you staying there?” you said, taking a bite of your strawberry ice cream which Jake had insisted on paying for, even though you knew he didn’t get much allowance.
“Forever.”
You stopped chewing, and the ice cream melted uncomfortably in your mouth. You don’t know how long you stayed there, frozen as you stared at your best friend in disbelief. It wasn’t until he lightly shoved your shoulder, only meeting your eyes for a split second, that you remembered to swallow and to say something.
“Forever as in… You won’t live here anymore? At all?”
Jake shook his head. He kept his eyes trained on the vanilla-chocolate ice cream sandwich he’d left in its wrapper. In the blazing hot Brisbane summer, it had probably fully melted two minutes ago. “At all.”
“Oh,” was all you found yourself able to say. For some reason, you hoped that continuing to eat your ice cream would stop you from crying, but to no avail. Hot, salty tears quickly started raining down your cheeks, mixing with the sweetness of your ice cream when they reached your lips. 
“It’s my dad’s work. Same reason why I moved here when we were kids in the first place. They wanted him here then, they want him back there now. We just have to follow,” Jake explained, sounding just as upset as you felt.
“Right.”
“Are you mad at me?” Jake asked, worry clear in his voice, and finally turned to face you. At the sight of you crying, he let out a small oh, tears of his own pooling in his eyes.
You frowned. “Of course not. I’m never mad at you, you know that. I just… You’re my best friend, Jakey. It’s gonna be so lame around here without you.”
“It’ll be lame there without you, too.”
You attempted a smile. “Well, of course. But at least you’ll get to make new friends, see new places. You’ll be in a whole other country, I’m sure you’ll have fun there. I’m gonna be stuck in boring old Brisbane for the foreseeable future.”
“Do you know how offended our friends would be if they heard you speaking right now?” he asked, nudging your shoulder with his.
You sniffled and let out a chuckle. “They’re all great, but… I don’t like them nearly as much as I like you,” you said, staring down at your hands, hoping he wouldn’t realise exactly what you meant by that statement.
A weight was lifted off of your shoulders when Jake answered. “I like you the most too, Y/N.” You tried not to think too much about whether he’d meant it platonically or romantically - none of that mattered anymore. All that mattered was the feeling of his arms around you, his warmth enveloping your whole body, his familiar scent that you already missed. 
You felt him take a deep breath against you before he pulled away. He sniffled and did his best to put on a smile. “Right, enough of that. I’m not leaving until next month, so don’t think you’re rid of me just yet,” he joked, and it helped alleviate the weight on your heart, even if just a little. “You said you had something to tell me? Good news after bad news, and all that.”
“Oh. Right. I forgot about that.”
You thought for a second. Today was the day you had planned to confess your feelings to Jake - you’d only told him you had good news to share. But what was the point now that he was leaving? If he felt the same way, it would only make his departure that much harder, and if he didn’t, it would ruin your last moments together. It just wasn’t worth it.
Jake tilted his head, waiting for you to speak. In a split second, you made yourself forget your disappointment over having built the courage to tell him how you felt only for it all to fall through, and resolved to make the most of Jake’s last month here. You wiped your tears and mirrored his small smile as best you could. “Um, it wasn’t anything much. My mum made those cowboy cookies you like.”
Jake’s head fell back as he groaned in anticipation. “If she wasn’t happily married with three kids, I’d marry your mum. Let’s go right now.”
You laughed. “There’d be a bit of an age gap there.”
“We’d make it work,” Jake joked, throwing his arm around your shoulders as you walked towards your house. He beamed down at you, his bright, boyish smile that you loved to bits, and you beamed up at him as you grabbed the hand that hung off your shoulder in your own.
You walked as happily as you could. “Do you even speak Korean?” you suddenly asked.
Jake halted abruptly in his steps, a gravely offended look on his face. When you looked back at him in confusion, he rolled his eyes and started walking again, pulling you with him. “It’s literally my mother tongue, Y/N. I speak it every day at home.”
“Oh, right.”
At the time, you thought nothing could come between you and Jake. Not anyone, not anything, neither distance nor time. But they did. A week after he’d left, a boy from your class you’d talked to maybe once or twice asked you out on a date. You weren’t sure why, but you said yes. Then you said yes to being his girlfriend, even though you didn’t like him all that much, and you even said yes to reducing your texting with Jake because it made him jealous. When you’d broken up with him and wanted to catch up with Jake and apologise for your absence, you’d found that his new school in Seoul was a lot more demanding than yours in Brisbane, and he had to spend most of his evenings in academies if he wanted to get into a nice university. It’s when you learned that he’d be staying in South Korea for college that you decided to leave Australia too. Brisbane was a lot less fun without him there - why bother staying? You couldn’t go to him because of the language barrier and the cost of university there. If you were to essentially uproot your life, might as well go somewhere you could get a scholarship and understand the people around you. 
It seemed insane that someone you had thought would be by your side for the rest of your life, someone that was part of your most cherished memories, had been reduced to someone you casually texted once in a while. It seems even more insane that now that you’re finally done essentially grieving your friendship with Jake, he stands in front of you again, six inches taller but still donning those puppy-like eyes and smile of his.
For your sake, you just hoped you wouldn’t be as in love with him at twenty as you were at fourteen.
--
The next day, you show Jake around campus, which wouldn’t normally take more than ten minutes, but takes double that time because of the sheer amount of people there. Between the Societies Fair taking up most of the square, the tour guides leading freshers, walking slowly and taking in their new campus, and the pizza and drinks stands, freshers’ week always turns campus into what feels like the busiest place on Earth. You try not to let it hit a nerve for Jake’s sake, who’s clearly ecstatic at all the activity, but you like this place a lot more when it’s quieter. You walk through the Fair, laughing as Jake marvels at all the different clubs and societies at the Uni. 
“Gardening Society? Dungeons & Dragons Society? Wine society?” he exclaims, astonishment growing with every passing stand.
“And this is only the first day. They also have a Taylor Swift Society.” He grabs a flyer from about every society, even though you know he’ll join between two to zero of them. 
When you walk out, there’s a girl handing out samples of shampoo and conditioner, and you let her give you one, more out of politeness than anything. 
“These are so useless,” you start, and Jake chuckles, unaware of the incoming rant. “I had that job of distributing them last year, and we would get a tip if we gave them all out. So naturally I put a bunch in my bag, but then I had to use them for like two weeks.” You sigh. “First of all, my hair did not like it. And second, the ratio is so off. There’s way more conditioner than shampoo when it should be the other way around, so you have to condition your hair even though it’s not properly clean. So stupid.”
“Sounds terrible,” Jake says, laughing. “Is that why you’re not doing it this year?”
“Oh… Not really. I dated the guy that takes care of this promo stuff, so it would’ve been kinda awkward…” you trail, immediately wishing you could backtrack on conversation. Talking about your ex with Jake wasn’t on your to-do list for today. Or ever.
“You dated your boss?”
“The manager, yeah, I guess. He was only 24, though, don’t worry.”
“I’m more worried about the power imbalance than the age gap there.”
You shrug, looking down at your shoes. “It’s not like he was that high up.”
“So, what happened? Why did you break up?”
“Well, he acted like our four-year age difference meant he could treat me like a little kid. It was nice being taken care of at first but then I realised how condescending he was and dumped him.”
“How long were you together?”
You pause. “Two weeks,” you admit abashedly, making Jake chuckle. “At least he didn’t waste my time and showed his red flags early on.”
“Any boyfriends since?” he asks, and you wonder whether you’re making up the unsure tone of his voice. As if he’s curious, but doesn’t want to show it too much. You hope you’re not making it up.
“A few, but they never last very long with me,” you say, a meek smile on your lips. “Furthest I got was three months.”
“And why didn’t it work out with three-months-guy?”
“He started comparing me to his mum a bit too often.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah, I ran out of there without looking back.”
“Well, it’s nice to see you’ve got high standards. I would hate to see you date just any loser.”
You want to say, High standards or issues?, but you don’t want to make it weird, so you play it cool instead. “I would never. I have a mental checklist with everything a guy needs to have for me to date him.”
“A checklist? I have to hear about this.”
You sigh, debating whether you should tell him about it. Would he notice it’s based on him? Would he notice the only person that could tick practically every box was none other than him? Jake gently elbows your side, goading you on. When you look at him, he’s got a shit-eating grin playing on his lips, and you give in. You look off into the distance as you start listing your requirements. “Well, there’s all your basics like funny, taller than me but not too much, ‘cause I don’t want neck cramps, smart, takes uni seriously, has plans for his future, easy to talk to, not emotionally stunted and can actually have a vulnerable conversation. It’s also a bonus if he has a nice face.”
“How much of a bonus?”
You think for a second. “It’s more a dealbreaker than a bonus, actually. Nice smile is a must, definitely.”
“Okay. Got any more specifics?”
“I do have some particular ones. It’s nice if he’s a reader, but it’s terrible if it makes him think he’s better than everyone or if he tries to sound smarter than me. I like it if he has experience, I don’t want to have to teach him everything. But obviously I don’t want him to still be in love with his ex. Guys and their first loves, I swear… I also don’t really like picky eaters.” You look over at Jake and take a double-take. He’s typing away on his phone, but because of his privacy screen protector, you can’t see anything. You huff. “I also don’t like it if he has those protective screens on his phone. What’s on there that’s so important that I can’t take a peek? What are you even doing?”
The sweet sound of Jake’s giggles erases any trace of annoyance that you felt seconds ago. He turns his screen towards you, showing the list of mostly ticked boxes that he’s written up. “See? I check most of these,” he says with a proud smile. “Guess your standards aren’t that high.” You don’t tell him that your standards are high, he’s just that amazing. 
You do your best to look only amused at this even though inside, you’re all but freaking out. “Which are you missing?”
“Well, I clearly own a privacy screen. And I don’t have much experience. Not nearly as much as you, by the sounds of it,” he admits, somewhat sheepish. “But other than that, I’m practically the perfect man for you.” He looks down at you with a smile so bright, it makes you wish you had brought sunglasses. It takes everything in you not to scream right then and there. Yes, Jake, you are the perfect man for me, but I wish you wouldn’t say it like it was a joke.
You let out a stiff chuckle, and, rather than saying something stupid and possibly damaging, shift the conversation to him. “What do you mean by not much experience? Have you not dated anyone?”
Jake sighs. “Nope, not anyone. I went on a few dates, you know, went through a few talking stages and all that, but it never went much further. There was always something…” He glances at you then. “Missing.”
“I know that feeling,” you say with a chuckle, and he laughs too, a breathy sound.
“I don’t have a checklist to pinpoint what it is, though.”
You smile. “You should try, it might help.”
“I just… I guess I’m like you in that I also have high standards. But it made me not even want to give anyone a chance, especially since I knew it wouldn’t end up anywhere.”
“Don’t tell me no one has ever managed to reach the great Jake Sim’s standards?” you ask, trying to keep your tone light.
Jake smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Of course someone has. She’s the whole reason I have standards in the first place. It’s not my standards I compare people to, it’s her.”
Jealousy has never made you feel as sad as it is right now. “And… it didn’t work out between you?”
Jake looks at you, eyes searching for something in yours but seemingly not finding it, and so he turns his gaze away. You don’t know why you feel so disappointed. “Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’. “She didn’t feel the same way.”
Whoever this girl is, you can’t believe how stupid she is for passing up the opportunity to have Jake Sim. “That’s… It sucks, I’m sorry,” you say. You don’t think spitting on this girl would make him feel any better, so you keep those thoughts to yourself.
“It’s okay,” he says with a small smile. “It was a while ago already.”
“Doesn’t sound like you’re quite over it, though,” you say, and you’re surprised but glad to see his smile widen.
“That’s true.” His eyes meet yours again. “I don’t think I’ll be over her anytime soon, either.” You have to look away to shield the pain that flashes through your eyes from him.
Pretending you don’t have feelings for your best friend and that you’re okay with him being in love with someone else is like riding a bike: even after years of not doing it, it only takes a few minutes for you to be able to do it perfectly again. Muscle memory, if you will. So you sigh dramatically and throw your arm around Jake’s shoulder, slightly pulling him down to your level. “Don’t worry. We’re going to have so much fun this year, you’ll completely forget about her. Promise. She doesn’t know what she’s missing. Yeah?” 
He smiles down at you. You want nothing more but that glint of melancholy in his eyes to be gone. “Yeah.”
--
Jake is only half-glad to see you haven’t changed much from your childhood and early teenage years. You’re still just as pretty, just as warm; it’s still as comfortable to be around you. You’re also still as dense.
Then and now, he did everything he could to make his feelings for you very, very obvious. Either you’re completely oblivious, or the idea of dating him is so horrifying to you, you understand but pretend you don’t. He really hopes it’s the former. 
He arrived in Edinburgh just a bit over a week ago, and you’ve seen each other almost every day. Out of those times, there isn’t a single one where he hasn’t tried to send something your way - something that says, hey, what if we stopped being friends and dated instead? Wouldn’t that be cool? Can’t you see how desperately I love you?, but you never latch on. The ball’s in your court, and he wants you to throw it back, but it’s been feeling more like a boomerang that always hits him right in the face when it circles back than a game of catch.
But he’s reminding himself not to be too greedy. Even if it’s just as friends, at least he has you back, so he’s satisfied with that. For now.
His first class of the year is on the following Tuesday morning, a ninety-minute seminar specifically made for exchange students called Discover Scotland. (He has Mondays free, resulting in a three-day weekend, which you and your 9am Monday tutorial are very envious of.) As interesting as the English Lit courses he’s taking seem, it’s this one he’s most looking forward to - except for the one class he shares with you, of course. Not even because of the seminars themselves, which will be about all sorts of topics on Scottish culture and history, but because of the coursework, as crazy as that sounds. It consists of a singular project, not due until the very last day of the semester, in which he has to travel to at least three different places in the country, research its background and provide a detailed account of his experience there. It can take any form: a written report, an in-class presentation, a podcast, anything. He could even film a TikTok if he wanted. Jake knew that being part of the Arts & Crafts club for two years in a row back in Seoul wasn’t for nothing - his scrapbooking skills would finally have their time to shine. 
That afternoon, he practically snatches you as you come out of your lecture, giving you little time to say bye to your friends, and makes you take him to the biggest stationary store you know in the city. If he wants to ace this project, he will need supplies. Many, many supplies. And it’s more fun shopping if you’re with him. You seem happy following him around the store, and when he asks you if you want to come on his trips with him, he can pretend it’s because you seem so excited about his project and not because he had thought of you accompanying him as soon as he heard about it.
As you stand in line at the till, you tell him that if he wants to start his project now, you could go to the beach together. You raise your eyebrows at him when he snaps your head towards you. “There’s a beach here?!”
“Did you not look at a map before coming here?” you ask, amused.
“I guess I didn’t…” he says, distraught at the new information. It only lasts a second, though. “Okay, let’s go now.”
“Now?” you echo, and he nods. “But-” you start, but are interrupted by your thoughts. “I guess there’s no reason not to. The weather’s nice and it’s not like I have any uni work yet. Let’s go,” you agree, looking up at him with a smile. You’re so pretty he almost forgets to look away, until the employee calls Next in a bored drawl. 
An hour later, you’re at the beach, barefoot on the sand and ice cream in hand. Strawberry for you and vanilla for him, he notes with a smile. Really not much has changed, he thinks. From the sand, to the water, to the promenade along the beach, Portobello is worlds away from the beaches back home in Australia, or those of Jeju Island. But it’s still nice, and because you’re with him, it’s even better. You’ve been walking around for an hour, splashing each other with water and mercilessly ruining sandcastles left behind before he realises you technically came here for his project. He writes down things he doesn’t want to forget on his phone and snaps a few pictures, sneaking a few of you when you’re not looking. He wants to tell you how beautiful you are with your hair blowing in the wind and the way the chill bites at your cheeks, but he keeps it a secret between him and his Notes app. 
Even though he lives two stops further down, he gets off from the bus with you, containing his excitement as best he can when you invite him up for a cup of tea. “Depends. What tea do you have?” he asks, trying and failing to play it cool. He’s just grateful he doesn’t have to come up with an excuse to spend more time with you.
You roll your eyes playfully as you unlock the front door to your building. “I can make you hot chocolate, Mister Tea-Is-For-Old-People.”
He chuckles. “Actually, I’ll have you know I started drinking tea at uni.” When you turn around to look at him, a surprised look on your face, he nods proudly. “Mh-hm. I got addicted to caffeine very quickly into first year so I started drinking black tea for the sake of my heart,” he explains.
“God,” you say breathily, sounding mildly horrified. “A caffeine addiction sounds intense.”
“It was, yeah,” he says, laughing as he follows you into your flat. 
Yunjin and Chaewon are sitting at the living room table, watching an episode of what he thinks is Gossip Girl, and they greet him as normally as these two can, but he wonders what the knowing look they exchange is all about. He’d met them the previous weekend when you had all gone for drinks together, along with Jay, Yunjin’s boyfriend, and they had all but grilled him on his relationship with you. He hadn’t thought much of it, chalking it up to your friends feeling protective of you, and truthfully, he was just happy to get to talk about you. But now, he was wondering if you had told them anything about him that made them so curious about him. If you did, he hoped it was something positive.
He stands awkwardly in the kitchen, chatting with you as you boil the water and get cups out, but he can feel their gazes burning the back of his head. Clearly, whatever conversation he’s having with you, he’s also having it with them. “How do you take your tea?” you ask.
“Um, three sugars and lots of milk, please,” he says, smiling innocently when you slowly turn to look at him, a mix of disapproval, disgust, and offence on your face. 
You sigh deeply. “I mean, I’ll do it, but I’m not sure that’s even tea anymore.”
“You’re one to talk, Miss Caramel Frappuccino,” he says, recycling your bad joke from earlier.
“At least I don’t claim to be drinking coffee when I order a frap,” you argue. “And this is how you battled your coffee addiction? You’ll be getting another kind of heart problem, Jakey.” He doesn’t know if you even notice your use of his old nickname - the first time you’ve used it since he’s been here - but you don’t make a big deal of it, so he doesn’t either. Not outwardly, at least. Mentally, he’s running laps around your small kitchen.
Jake laughs it off. “I thought I came here for tea, not a health check-up,” he says, smile growing wider at the sight of yours. 
“Right, sorry,” you say, giggling. “I’ll make your tea just how you like it,” you add in a sweet voice. Jake knows you’re just doing it as a joke, but it still manages to make butterflies erupt in his stomach. 
His tea tastes even sweeter that day.
--
A few days after your impromptu trip to the beach, you’re waiting for Jake outside of his class. He heard of this donut shop he “absolutely needs to visit” and is dragging you along with him - well, “dragging” is a big word considering you’d follow him anywhere. You got here a few minutes early, not needing much of a reason to leave the library, so you scroll through your feed until Jake calls out your name. You’re only mildly surprised to see Jay leaving the classroom behind him.
“Y/N! Can you believe that Jay and I are in the same class?” he says excitedly as the two boys walk toward you. You feel like a dog owner being greeted by their over-enthusiastic dog after a long day (about three hours) of being apart.
“I can believe it, actually. You two do the same degree.”
You exchange quick greetings with Jay before the three of you start heading out. As you walk, Jake throws his arm around your shoulders so casually, it almost throws you off balance. Physical contact always came easy to him, but there’s something about him doing it next to someone else that catches you off guard. It reminds you of walking somewhere with Jay and Yunjin as they discretely held hands. It makes you feel like it’s not the three of you, but Jay with the two of you. Like you and Jake come as a pair rather than as two individuals. 
All of that from a simple arm around your shoulders.
Jake asking you in a very unsubtle whisper whether Jay can come with brings you out of your head and back into the conversation. “Yeah, of course,” you say, smiling. It’s not a bad idea to have Jay along: hanging out with someone else might snap you out of your delusion.
Most of the walk to the shop is done in laughter as Jake and Jay realise how much random stuff they have in common, from their peanut allergies to the embarrassing Harry Potter phase they had as fifteen-year-olds. Grassmarket is really busy on Friday afternoons, and there’s a bit of a queue of other donut-enjoyers in front of the boutique, but you don’t mind. The sun is shining down gently on the square and it gives you time to choose your donut out of the ten or so flavours available. In the end, you go for white chocolate and raspberry, while Jake chooses Biscoff and Jay, tiramisu. 
“My friend Sunghoon would love this,” he says after taking a hearty bite. “He goes crazy over tiramisu. Like a cat with catnip.”
Jake chuckles, mouth full of Biscoff. “That’s funny, I also have a friend named Sunghoon who loves tiramisu back in Seoul.”
Jay punches Jake’s shoulder, eyes wide in amusement and shock. “Bro, that’s crazy. You have to be lying at this point,” he says, but Jake shakes his head fervently. 
“I promise I’m not. I’ve even saved his number with the tiramisu emoji.”
“There’s a tiramisu emoji?” Jay asks, already over questioning the existence of Jake’s Sunghoon.
The conversation circles back to the courses you’re all taking this semester, and Jake tells Jay about Discover Scotland and the trips he’s planned so far. “Well, if you really want to discover Scotland as a student, you need to go on a night out in Glasgow,” Jay says. Going by the look on Jake’s face, Jay’s idea seems to have struck a chord in him.
“Y/N?”
You nod, finishing your mouthful of donut before speaking. “Yeah, Glasgow’s really fun. We should go,” you say, laughing when the two boys high-five in victory. Between the train, the drinks and the club entry, going out isn’t a cheap ordeal, and getting to and fro also takes a while - even so, the smile on Jake’s face makes it worth it. 
He wipes some raspberry jam from the corner of your mouth, shooting you a wink, and you want to disintegrate right then and there, become one with the bench you’re sitting on and never have to face him again. The conversation resumes as Jay tells Jake about all the best places to go out in Glasgow, but you don’t hear a word - the feeling of Jake’s thumb so close to your lips takes away your ability for coherent thought.
“It’s decided, then. We’re going out tomorrow night,” Jay loudly announces. “Let me gather the troops.”
That’s how you find yourself in line for the club the next day, already tipsy from pre-drinking on the train and at the pub. It’s still warm enough for you and the girls to wear as little clothing as you want, but Jake insisted on giving you his flannel jacket anyway. If not for the warmth it brings, you’re glad to have his scent enveloping you.
The five of you work exceptionally well together. You, Chaewon and Yunjin have been a given since you met in first year, and Jay and Yunjin went so well together that he was but a natural addition to your little group. Jake’s only been here for over a week, but it’s like he’s always been around, and you couldn’t be happier about it. Him and Jay hit it off immediately, and although the girls needed some time to warm up to him (it’s not everyday that you meet your friend’s ex-best-friend she’s practically always been in love with; you understand why they might’ve been wary at first), they now tease him just as relentlessly as they do Jay. He takes it like a champ.
For a little while, you watch your friends speaking over each other, bickering over nothing, a smile on your face. Two pints of cider and some of Jay’s fancy vodka have made you more grateful than ever for them - if you drink too much in the club, you’ll be hugging them and crying about how much you love them. You’re not sure what that might look like around Jake, so you decide to keep yourself in check for the night. 
It takes about thirty minutes before you manage to get into the club. It’s not coat check season yet, so you head straight to the bar. “Sunghoon said he’d meet us here,” Jay says, lifting his head to spot his friend in the sea of drunk students. “Oh yeah, there he is! Hoon, hey!” 
You hear a loud “Jongseong!” being shouted from somewhere in the crowd, but you’re not sure who Jay is waving at until a boy whose face is mostly eyebrows is standing - well, standing as best as he can, with the copious amount of alcohol he’s obviously already consumed - in front of you. He gives Jay a hug and the three of you a nod of his head, a lopsided smile on his face. When he turns to Jake, his eyebrows lift first, then his face breaks into a wide grin.
“Jake, my man!” he shouts, taking a stunned Jake’s hand and bringing him into a hug. 
“Sunghoon? What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, chuckling and frowning in confusion. 
“I’m just partying, man! Same as you!”
“No, I mean here in Scotland, you dumbass!”
“You two know each other?” Jay asks, looking back and forth between his two friends.
“Jake’s my man!” Sunghoon exclaims, unhelpful and stumbling as he throws an arm around his man’s shoulders. Jake shoots you a distressed look but you just laugh at him.
“This is Tiramisu Sunghoon I told you about,” Jake says, helping Sunghoon stand up straight.
“God, what I would do for a tiramisu right now,” Sunghoon says, looking at Yunjin like she might relate. She chuckles awkwardly.
“I have no idea what he’s doing in Scotland, though. Hoon, I thought you were going to NYU for your exchange?”
Sunghoon pauses to think for a second, looking like he’s never heard of NYU in his life. “Oh, that! Yeah, I did an online orientation thing and… it did not go well. Let’s just say there’s someone in New York City who wants me dead,” he says conspiratorially. You all stare at him but he gives no further explanation. On your right, you hear Yunjin whisper what the fuck under her breath. “So I transferred here instead!”
“I didn’t know you were an exchange student,” Jay says, still looking just as confused.
“Yeah, man! But anyways, let’s not talk about uni right now. I’m on a bender, day three, baby! Do not talk to me tomorrow,” he says, chuckling until the smile suddenly drops from his face. “I mean that.” You look around yourself, glad to find everyone is just as baffled as you. “Let’s party!” Sunghoon cheers, intoxicated grin back on his lips. Jake and Jay follow, but you and the girls stay back for a second, taking in everything that has just happened.
“That. Is the most beautiful man I have ever seen,” Chaewon blurts, staring blankly at the spot Sunghoon stood in a second ago.
“Yeah, he also seems to be a raging alcoholic. And he’s what, twenty-one?” Yunjin says, a scowl on her face. 
“I could fix him.”
“Okay, let’s go,” you say, grabbing your friends by their wrists before either of them can say something worse.
Feeling generous, Sunghoon buys shots for all six of you, and you quickly down them before heading to the dancefloor. On your way there, a group of sober-looking girls hand Chaewon a giant, still almost full jug of red liquid, something that costs at least twelve pounds here. They say they’re leaving and don’t need it anymore, smiling as you profusely and astonishedly thank them. You look at your friends, mentally weighing the risk and drugging possibility this might present, but shrug and pass the jug around after taking hearty sips anyway. It tastes so much like fizzy cherries that you wonder if it even contains any alcohol, but sure enough, twenty minutes later, the three of you are spinning around on the dancefloor, screaming the lyrics to your favourite pop songs at the top of your lungs. Jake at a club is a completely foreign sight to you, and you can’t stop laughing at all the silly moves he pulls. 
You’re shaking your whole body to a Nicki song from the early 2010s when you suddenly feel a hand on your hip. Before you can turn around and slap whoever this random man is that thinks he can touch you, a familiar voice whispers it’s just me in your ear, and you simultaneously relax and tense up knowing that Jake is standing right behind you. “There’s a creep staring at you,” he explains, lips and breath gently tickling your ear as he speaks. You look around the room and quickly notice a man standing in a corner, drink in one hand and the other in his pocket, unmoving as he eyes you with a smirk so slimy it makes your stomach turn. To avoid his gaze, you turn around, but you’re not sure the sight you’re met with is much better for you.
Jake peers down at you, eyes slightly glossed over and cheeks flushed from the alcohol, jaw locked in annoyance. He glances at the guy in the corner, who you assume is still staring when you feel Jake’s hands brush along your sides until they reach your waist. His gaze returns to your face as he brings you a step closer to him. Reflexively, you wrap your arms around his neck. 
“Is this okay?” he mouths. All you can do is meekly nod. You watch as his eyes deliberately scan your face, going down and down. Time stills when they reach your lips and stay there. It’s like someone has put the booming music of the club on mute, and the only thing you can hear is your heart loudly beating in your ears. You suddenly feel very sober.
You swear Jake’s face is slowly inching its way towards yours when you’re abruptly taken away. Yunjin has grabbed you by the forearm, leading you and Chaewon to the bathroom as she chants “Bathroom break! Bathroom break!”, clearly unaware of the moment she’s just interrupted.
Because of the queue for the girls’ bathroom and Chaewon’s decision to console this random girl who was in the middle of a breakdown, it’s not until half-an-hour later that you emerge back into the crowd. You spot the boys at a table, two empty shots each in front of them and all three with a beer in hand. They will not be happy checking their bank accounts tomorrow morning. 
“Y/N! You’re back!” Jake calls out happily when he spots you, and you can tell right away that he’s much drunker than when you left him. His whole face is flush, his eyes don’t open quite all the way, and a lopsided smile won’t leave his lips - even like this, he’s so pretty that you want to grab his hand and take him somewhere it’s just the two of you. 
Chaewon gets drinks for the three of you and then you’re dancing again. It’s already one am at this point, and the remaining two hours until the club closes, fueled with alcohol and good music, go by in a flash. Before you know it, the DJ is playing All of Me by John Legend and the lights have been turned on, clear signs that you’re overstaying your welcome. The few people that have made it to closing time stumble out of the club and into the street, heading for either the nearest subway stop or the next party of the night. Since there are no trains at this time, your group walks to the close-by bus station, listening to Jake and Sunghoon grumble about how the clubs in Seoul don’t close until at least five or six and how trains run all night there. 
The bus is already at the station when you get there, and the driver doesn’t seem too pleased about having six mildly drunk kids get on his bus, but he’s probably used to questionable people taking public transport at this time of the day anyway. Physically, Sunghoon is sitting across from you, but mentally, he’s off somewhere far, far from this bus. With his head against the window and mouth wide open, saliva pooling at the corner of his lips, he looks like he’s any second away from obnoxiously snoring. Jay and Yunjin are sitting somewhere you can’t see them, probably eating each other’s faces; she once told you they had their “most mind-blowing sex” when both a little drunk, and much to your dismay, you haven’t been able to get that piece of information out of your head since. Chaewon is on the phone to her long-distance bestie Sakura, for whom it’s a nice eleven in the morning right now. 
This means that you and Jake are left alone, both of you still tipsy and not tired enough to fall asleep. You drop your head on Jake’s shoulder, and not only does he let you, he also takes your hand in his, interlacing your fingers and placing them atop his thigh. Clumsily, because he now has to use his left hand, Jake slips his phone out of his back pocket and shows you the photos he took all evening. As the night progresses, they get blurrier and blurrier, so much so that towards the end, you can’t tell what he was even trying to capture, and you laugh at how inappropriate some of these would be to submit in a university project. 
When he softly says your name, you don’t raise your head, simply humming to let him know you’re listening. You close your eyes, cherishing the way your name sounds on his lips. It’s his tone, tentative and vulnerable as he tells you there’s something he’s been wanting to ask you, that makes you look up at him. He, however, won’t meet your eyes, and settles his gaze on the window, even though it’s so dark outside you can’t make out a thing.
“How come you never replied to my letter? I know it’s been ages, but… I still find myself wondering about it.” The question is softly asked and you know he by no means wants to hurt you, but it still feels like a punch to the throat. You hadn’t remembered who it was that had sent the last letter, while he’d been wondering all these years why his words had been left unanswered. 
He seems set on not looking at you, so you rest your head back on his shoulder. Your hand is still in his. “I’m not sure, Jakey. I’m sorry,” you say, aware it’s not a satisfying answer. You’ve thought about why you and Jake had stopped talking for hours on end; you’ve discussed it with your friends and your mum, looked at it from all sorts of angles, tried to come up with real reasons other than time pulling you apart. But now that Jake himself is asking you about it, the words don’t come easy. You’ve theorised that you were afraid putting effort into sustaining your friendship would only hurt you in the end, because it was just that - a friendship. You could fool yourself into thinking you were okay only being friends with him when he was with you, that putting your feelings aside was worth it since you could at least spend time with him. But now that he was away, you didn’t have that anymore - it just hurt. So what was the point? And how could you phrase all this without betraying your feelings for him?
“Our letters were so sparse anyway back then, even our texts and calls were getting less and less frequent… And whenever I had a new boyfriend, I’d get into the same argument about being too close to you over and over again, even though you were literally on another continent.” 
“You know, I always felt sorry about that.”
“About what?”
“Those boyfriends of yours. I felt like you waited for me to leave before you started dating-”
“It wasn’t like that!” you exclaim, lifting your head again. Finally, he meets your eyes, gaze softening upon seeing your affronted expression. “It wasn’t like that,” you repeat, relaxing your tone. “If anything, they were the ones that waited for you to be gone. I'm sorry I let their jealousy get to me.”
Jake smiles, the tenderness in his gaze making your whole body turn to jelly. He squeezes your hands. “It’s okay. I just… I felt like I was always in the way of your relationships, even after I left.”
“You don’t have to feel sorry about that. They should’ve had more trust in me.”
He pauses, gaze dropping down to your intertwined hands. “I would’ve been jealous.” When his eyes find yours again, there’s something in them that you quite can’t place. It creates a ball of nerves that pull at your stomach. “If I were dating you, and you had a guy friend you were as close with as we were back then, I’d be jealous. You know, I’d assume he had feelings for you. And that you might have feelings for him, too.”
Because I did, you think. I did, and I still do. You try to communicate that thought to Jake, but telepathy works especially bad when one has as much alcohol coursing through their veins as you do right now. So instead, you say the opposite of what you’re thinking, turning away from Jake to avoid his gaze. You watch the dribble of saliva trickle from Sunghoon’s lips. “That’s not a great view of male-female friendship.” 
Jake’s retort comes immediately. “But we were different, right?”
His words echo through your head until they make even less sense than they did initially. Different from what? From who? You’re not sure - but you like the idea of you and Jake being different, special. You especially like the idea of Jake thinking so. So you look at him and smile. “Right.” 
Slowly, his grin fades and turns into a worried expression. “Y/N?”
“Mm?”
“We’re still different now, aren’t we?”
You want to wrap him in your arms so tightly neither of you can breathe. You settle for running a hand through his hair and pinching his cheek. “Course we are.” Your whole being relaxes when his face breaks into a smile again. 
--
The next morning, you wake up to Yunjin plopping down on your bed unceremoniously, shaking you awake, and asking you if you want anything from Snax Café. On one hand, you’re grateful that she thought of you and that in thirty minutes’ time, you’ll have the greasiest sausage wrap and hash browns known to man in your hand; on the other, you’d like to think that she knows you well enough to know to order your regular from there without asking. But that’s probably the hangover talking.
You stumble out of bed, thanking last night’s you for having remembered to take headache medicine before crashing. Even if your stomach is very upset with the copious amount of alcohol it needs to rid your body of, and your throat is begging for water, at least your head doesn’t feel like it’s been split into two. As Yunjin barges into Chaewon’s room just as she had done yours, you head for the kitchen to get yourself a tall glass of revitalising tap water. You’re only mildly surprised to find Sunghoon passed out on your living room couch - it takes you a few seconds to remember that the three of you took pity on him when you learned he lived over an hour’s walk from the station, so you let him spend the night on your uncomfortable, cold leather sofa. While you down your glass in three gulps, you hear Yunjin shaking Sunghoon awake and asking him loudly if he wanted something from Snax.
“Fuck, I’d kill for a Snax right now,” he groggily says before he’s even opened his eyes. When he does, they dart around the room until they land on Yunjin, who's crouching in front of him. He looks like he thought her question was asked in a dream and not in real life. He also looks like he's not quite sure where he is, or who Yunjin is. It isn’t until Jay comes wobbling out of Yunjin’s bed to the couch opposite Sunghoon that the memories seem to piece back together in his head. The three of you watch him like he’s an unstable mental patient and you’re his doctors. 
“No need for that, I’m ordering it on Deliveroo.” He nods his head and goes back to sleep for the time being. 
Just as you’re about to text Jake, your phone rings with a call from him. His raspy morning voice as he asks you whether you slept well makes you want to put your head in an oven heated at 200 degrees Celsius. However, you resist the urge, and answer him with a smile, then ask him the same question.
“I slept pretty well too. I’d have slept in longer but one of my flatmates decided to have a Sunday fucking brunch and his friends are so loud. Can I come over?”
You’re very aware of the other people in the room, especially of Chaewon who has just walked in and is eyeing you suspiciously as if to say, Why are you smiling so hard at ten in the morning? You know the girls would jump at any opportunity to tease you about Jake, and with the added presence of Sunghoon in the room, you can’t have that. So you stifle the giggles bubbling in your throat and answer as nonchalantly as you can. It also gives you the chance to reflect on why Jake Sim asking you whether he can come over makes you want to giggle like a giddy schoolgirl so much.
(Maybe it’s because when it comes to him, you’re still the giddy schoolgirl you used to be.)
“Yeah, of course. I was going to ask you if you wanted anything from Snax, actually.”
“Snax? What’s that?”
“Oh my God, Jake, am I about to introduce you to Snax right now?”
Twenty minutes later, the six of you are sitting around your small living room table, all varying amounts of tired, dehydrated and famished as you dig into your breakfast. Given your current levels of energy, it’s fairly quiet; plus, the food hits such a spot that it’s hard to talk and eat at the same time. Jake eats like he’s never had a breakfast wrap and hash brown in his life. It’s an endearing sight if you’ve ever seen one. 
You spend the afternoon together, watching movies curled up in your bed, and you try desperately not to think about the implications of that - except that’s hard to do when Jake is right next to you, legs and arms ever-so-slightly brushing against yours, his warmth so close yet so out of reach. You purposefully let him pick movies you’ve already seen so that you don’t have to focus on anything but your own thoughts and the faint but dizzying scent of his body wash. The both of you had an innumerable amount of sleepovers as kids, so this shouldn’t feel weird, but it decidedly does, probably because you’re much more aware of him now in a way you weren’t before.  
As hard as you try to figure out what exactly he meant by “different,” you draw a blank. The only way you’ll understand is if you ask him, and you’re far too scared to do that. You don’t want to seem so hung upon a singular word he used when he was tipsy. It might be slightly dramatic, but you felt like some sort of balance had been restored since Jake was back in your life - the problem was it made you scared to do anything that might threaten this newfound equilibrium. It at least seems like different means a good thing to him, and that’s enough for you. 
You look over to him when the second movie comes to an end. He’s sleeping peacefully, lashes caressing the skin under his eyes and cheeks looking rounder than usual. It’d be so easy to reach a finger out and trace the line descending from the top of his forehead to his chin, gliding along the bump of his nose and feeling the plumpness of his rosy lips, but you settle for drawing that line with your eyes instead.  
You don’t think you’ll be able to fall asleep with him next to you and your heart beating so loudly in your ears, but you find yourself waking up a few hours later, the sun already starting to set. Jake is already awake, scrolling on his phone, one arm casually behind his head as if being in your bed is as comfortable to him as being in his own. When he sees you’ve woken up, his honey-coated smile washes warmly over you, and he makes a joke about how he keeps on falling asleep when he’s with you. “I feel that at ease, I guess,” he says, and you hope you’re not making up the small blush that spreads over his cheeks. 
--
Semesters are always a short and intense affair, but this one passes by even quicker with Jake by your side. Before you know it, it’s midterms already, and you and Jake have travelled enough for him to complete his project and make another one just for the hell of it. He had scoured the internet for the cheapest train tickets and most noteworthy sites, planning trips that lasted anywhere between three hours and a day for the two of you. All you needed to do was follow and trust him, which was the easiest thing anyone could’ve asked of you. 
You’ve gone back to Glasgow, during the day, this time, as well as St. Andrews and Aberdeen. You’ve practically visited every loch and castle in a one-hour train ride radius of Edinburgh, and Jake has more lined up for the second part of the semester. He’s even said that your trips should continue being a thing next term, and you couldn’t have agreed faster. With every new destination, every train ride spent looking out a window or laughing about everything and anything, any odd Scottish food you try for the first time, you somehow fall for him a bit deeper. You didn’t know your love for him could bloom any more than it already had - but Jake is the gift that keeps on giving, and, unwillingly or not, he always finds new ways to make your heart speed that much faster.
Attentionate, affectionate, sweet Jake who always makes sure you’re comfortable wherever you go, always gives you his jacket or tucks your hair behind your ear to prevent it from falling in your face. Who, as time passed, grew more touchy, would hold your hand, ruffle your hair, pinch your cheek, which was simultaneously devastating and elating. Who, you could tell, started to linger more, both in his touch and in his gaze. Questions of does he love me back or am I seeing what I want to see? nearly drove you mad. 
--
“I feel like at this point the only way she’ll understand that I like her is if I kill myself and write in my suicide note that it’s her fault for not loving me back.”
Jake has been pacing back and forth in Jay’s living room for approximately twenty minutes, with no end in sight. At least he’ll have gotten most of his ten thousand steps of the day in.
Jay sighs heavily. “Okay, I really don’t think you need to go that far.”
“Sounds romantic to me,” Sunghoon says, mouth full of salted caramel popcorn.
“I hope you never get a girlfriend,” Jay retorts, looking at his deranged friend with a scowl. He turns back to his (slightly more) normal friend and gives him a sympathetic smile. 
“I mean, I told her we were different. Different. That we weren’t like regular friends. I tell her she’s pretty every chance I get. I give her my jacket all the time, even though this country is fucking cold. I’ve even given her a t-shirt of mine, sprayed with my perfume and everything. And don’t get me wrong, I do it ‘cause I love doing that for her-”
“Simp,” Sunghoon snickers.
“But what the hell else can I do? Like, she has to be ignoring it on purpose at this point.” 
“You could always, you know… tell her?”
Jake scoffs, fixing his friend with a derisive look. “Wow. What a great idea, Jay, I never thought of that one before!”
A popcorn lands right on Jay’s cheek. “You’re so clueless, man,” Sunghoon says, a shit-eating smirk on his lips. As if he knows any better.
Jay looks back-and-forth between his friends, an expression on his face like he’s been disparaged. “Sorry, I didn’t know being straightforward and honest was such a bad thing. It would just make things a lot clearer for the both of you.”
“But… I’m scared,” Jake says. 
“Man up!” Sunghoon suddenly yells, punching the sofa next to him, making his friends jump. “How can she ever figure it out if you don’t tell her?”
“You were on my side just a second ago, man, what are you doing?” Jake asks, confusion written all over his face. Sunghoon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two boys, retreating into silence as he stuffs his mouth with another handful of popcorn.
“Just ignore him,” Jay says. “But for once, he did say something that makes a modicum of sense. You think you’re being really obvious, but you might not actually be. Which could be a good sign, you know. I heard girls were super aware of a guy liking them if they weren’t into him, but being totally oblivious if they did like him.”
“Where did you hear that?” Jake asks, an eyebrow raised in suspicion.
“...Instagram Reels,” Jay reluctantly admits, frowning at Sunghoon who bursts into laughter. 
Jake holds the bridge of his nose between two fingers like his head aches. “You’re both so useless, I’m never coming to you with my problems ever again.”
“I’ll pretend I’m not offended by that.”
“I’d rather you didn’t, anyway,” Sunghoon says. He’s smiling but Jake genuinely can’t tell if he’s joking or not.
“But seriously, if you think you’ve done everything, then just do one last thing that’s so obvious she can’t misinterpret it,” Jay says.
“Like what?”
“Like kissing her, or some-”
“Kissing her?!” Jake echoes.
“That’s wild, man,” Sunghoon uselessly butts in.
“It’s just an example, calm yourselves,” Jay says. “Or, again, just straight up tell her how you feel. It’s what I did with Yunjin, and it worked.”
“You and Yunjin are dating?” Sunghoon asks, bewildered.
Jay shakes his head at him. “Where the hell have you been, bro? We were literally cuddling on the couch the other day.”
“I just thought you were really good friends, or something.”
Jake groans, holding his head in his hands. Sunghoon was of no help whatsoever, and Jay was so on point that it annoyed him. Confessing was the only solution - but Jake was so afraid of being rejected and losing your friendship that he had barely entertained the thought. But he had found the courage to do it once, and even though his planned confession had fallen through back then, he could get himself together and do it again. 
It was the day he had told you he was moving to Korea, which he himself had learned that morning. Originally, he’d texted you because he had news to share - good news. Or at least, he hoped they were good. He hoped the soft, lingering looks you gave him weren’t a figment of his imagination but rather the confirmation he needed that you liked him back. He hoped that like him, you cared too much about your friendship to make the first move into something else; that by confessing first, you’d be relieved of that responsibility; that his wish to hold your hand and kiss your forehead wasn’t one-sided. 
He decided not to prepare anything - just a couple sentences that he’d rehearsed over and over in his head. Declarations of love, bouquets of flowers, chocolate and couple keychains, all that could wait until after you’d said yes to being his girlfriend. He didn’t want to win you over just once, he wanted to show you every day how much he loved you. Fourteen-year-old Jake was absolutely head over heels for you; so imagine his disappointment when, as he was getting ready to meet with you, his parents called him downstairs, a tone to their voice Jake wasn’t familiar with, but that couldn’t mean anything good. 
“Your dad’s job is sending us back to Seoul next month,” his mom announced, not beating around the bush. He felt everything quite literally crumbling down around him. His friends in Brisbane, his school, his hobbies, but above all, you. He’d lose it all. And what was the point now in telling you how he felt? If you felt the same way, it would only make his departure that much harder, and if you didn’t, it would ruin your last moments together. It just wasn’t worth it.
What he had planned to be good news turned into the most awful ones. The thought of it happening all over again makes twenty-year-old Jake shudder. But he wouldn’t let himself be trapped by time again - sure, in seven months, the academic year would be over, and he would go back to Korea. But that didn’t mean that those seven months should be spent in agony, or the following ones either, for that matter. You would make it work. What was long-distance to someone who loved someone else as much as Jake loved you?
But he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself. He has to start by really resolving to do this, and in the off-chance that it actually goes in his favour, he’d start worrying about long distance then.
First, he has a trip to plan.
--
You should’ve known that a trip to the Scottish Highlands in the middle of November was a risky choice in terms of weather. The day started off nicely enough - no sign of rain when you woke up or as you watched the sunrise through the train window. Clouds turned the sky a bright white at first, then increasingly greyer and greyer. You feel the first drops of rain after lunch as you walk around a small village. By four pm, it’s pitch black and storming like you’ve rarely seen before. You head into a pub to grab a drink as you wait for the rain to subside, but subside it does not. You end up ordering fish and chips, one each, although one serving is enough to feed three. Even after taking your time eating, the bad weather does not let up. The last train, which is meant to be at eight pm, has been cancelled. Luckily, there’s an inn right across the road from the pub; you have no choice but to spend the night. 
The inn receptionist is sitting so low on her chair, you can barely see her over the desk until you’re standing right over it. Her face is hidden by a book and it’s only when you say hiya that she seems to realise you’re there. You had never heard of the book or of its author, but you recognized the cover design as that of those romance novels with repetitive plots and weirdly misogynistic love interests your mum and every other middle-aged woman was obsessed with.
Her smile widens as she looks between you and Jake. “Hi there. One room for the lovely couple?”
“Oh, we’re not-”
“Yes, please,” Jake interrupts, smiling down at her, then at you. “It’ll be cheaper if we share a room.”
“Our only room with two single beds is already taken, I’m afraid. One double bed okay for you two?”
You feel like you’re about to faint, so you’re glad Jake is there to answer. “Yeah, of course.” How the idea of sharing one bed with you is so okay to him, you’re not sure - granted, you’ve done it before, but this feels different. For all intents and purposes, this is a hotel room you’re staying in. And you’re staying in it with Jake. 
You try to calm your breathing as the receptionist guides you to your room, chatting casually with Jake on the way there. As she unlocks the door for you, she informs you that check-out must be done before eleven in the morning tomorrow, then bids you good night and leaves you to it, still wearing that smile you swear has mischievousness to it. The door clicks shut behind you, and it’s just Jake and you again, together in this small room until tomorrow morning. Your chances of survival are very, very low. 
Your room is a humble one, consisting of a desk, a cupboard, two armchairs, a small, separate bathroom and the infamous bed. Every surface seems to be covered with wood, from the ceiling, to the walls, to the old-fashioned furniture. Only the floor is a soft, beige carpet. Especially with the darkness outside, it makes for a gloomy room until you turn on the lamp by the entrance; it casts a warm, golden light in the room, one that would make you feel at ease if it wasn’t for Jake’s presence next to you. The implications of being essentially trapped in a barely-lit room with him are heavy on your mind, especially when he looks this gorgeous with his hair still damp from the rain and the soft lights playing on his face. 
His voice brings you out of your thoughts. “Right. Do you, um, do you wanna shower first?” he asks, setting his bag on one of the armchairs.
“Oh. Yeah, sure.” There has never been such an awkward tension between the two of you, but you know you’re not doing anything to ease it. You hope a shower will help you get out of your head and make you relax.
You feel the tension leave your muscles under the hot water, but your stomach is still in knots. You’ve never been this nervous around Jake before; back when you were fourteen and again in these past few months, you’d gotten so used to dealing with your unspoken feelings for him that you could almost forget about them when you were with him. They’d come back to you when you were alone and dwelling on the moments you’d spent together, on his words and actions you desperately tried not to read too much into but always ended up doing anyway. But right now, they’ve floated to the surface, becoming as obvious to you as a stain on your skin you can’t rub away. You’re scared Jake will notice it, and, in the worst case scenario you often thought about, would run away and never speak to you again. 
At least the raging storm outside would make that a bit harder.
When you step out of the shower, you curse yourself for not having worn more comfortable clothes on this trip. You definitely can’t wear these jeans and button-up sweater to lounge around. Thankfully, the inn provides two long bathrobes that you could wear over underwear and your tank top, but you wonder where on the scale of inappropriate this would be to wear with Jake in the room. He’s seen you in short pyjama shorts before, but this, like everything else that would usually be normal between the two of you, feels weird today. 
You wrap the bathrobe around yourself, tying it in place around your waist, and decide that it’d only be weird if you made it weird. And if Jake found the sight of your bare legs weird, then he was the weird one.
The scene you’re met with as you walk into the room makes you want to retreat into the bathroom immediately. Jake is lying on the bed with his upper half against the headboard, one leg extended and the other one bent, resting his head against one palm, using his free hand to scroll through his phone. His t-shirt has ridden up slightly, putting the waistband of his Calvin Kleins into view. Worst of all, when he sees you, his face breaks into a grin. 
Your stomach twists when he gives you a once-over, letting his gaze linger on your legs. “Did you bring a bathrobe with you or was it included?” he asks with an annoyingly handsome smirk.
You roll your eyes. “Yes, I bring a bathrobe with me wherever I go,” you say sarcastically. “Now shut up and go shower, you stink.” Reverting to insults is always the solution when you’re internally freaking out.
“Yes, ma’am.” 
He takes so long in the shower that by the time he comes out, you’ve dozed off in bed. As if you were a child, he wakes you up with a boop to the nose, crouching next to the bed and smiling at you. His wet hair falls on his head like that of a movie star in a shower scene, which you find extremely unfair, and his cheeks are red from the warmth of the water. 
“It’s still early. Do you wanna go grab another drink?”
“In our bathrobes?” you say, laughing. “Nah, I don’t really feel like drinking anyway.” Read: I’m not sure what I’ll do with alcohol in me.
“Okay, no worries. Um, I think I saw they had board games in the lobby?”
Your ears perk up at this. “Ooh, what kind of board games?”
Putting jeans on underneath his bathrobe, Jake slips away for a minute and comes back with Monopoly, Uno, and a deck of cards. “They didn’t have much for two players,” he says, dumping everything on the bed. 
You already knew that anything would become fun if you did it with Jake, but you definitely didn’t expect to spend almost five hours just playing Monopoly and card games with him. Neither of you stays put for very long, always switching from sitting criss-cross to laying on your stomach, making fun of the other’s bathrobe even though you’re wearing the exact same thing. You make each other laugh as you make up your own nonsense rules and disregard the laws of your games, attacking the other ruthlessly for a couple extra points or coins. Jake even makes you go get snacks from a corner store that’s miraculously still open because you lose the first round of Uno. 
After some time, Jake lets out a loud yawn, which in turn makes you yawn too. He checks his phone to find that it’s close to midnight already. “Time for bed?” he asks, and your nervousness that had finally dissipated as you played came rushing back. 
You nod. “Yeah, sounds good.”
The two of you clean up before brushing your teeth. Even that, with Jake by your side, becomes a silly affair as he pulls faces in the mirror and nudges your hip with his. You stay behind to use the toilet, and when you come back out, Jake’s already in bed, bathrobe tossed on one of the armchairs. This means that Jake is just casually in a t-shirt and boxers, waiting for you to join him in bed. Luckily, his back is turned to you, so you quickly take off your own bathrobe and slide under the sheets, careful to keep your distance from him. The sheets are cold underneath you, and you know it’ll take a while before your body heat warms them up - although you feel very hot and bothered because of the man lying next to you. 
“Gosh, I’m really sleepy all of a sudden,” he says, words distorted by a yawn. You only hum in response, and he reaches for the lamp to turn it off. Just like that, you’re in complete darkness, and Jake’s body is mere inches from your own. 
It’s eerily quiet for a while, and when you’ve managed to slow your heartbeat and regularise your breathing, you start trying to fall asleep. You toss and turn, unable to find a comfortable position until Jake’s low, sleepy voice breaks the silence. “Can’t sleep?” he asks, and you freeze.
You sigh. “No. I’m sorry for keeping you up,” you say guiltily.
“It’s okay. I can’t really sleep either. It’s a bit cold in here.”
You pause. “Right. Yeah, it is,” you say, even though you feel like you’re sweating buckets. 
The room plunges into silence again, long enough for you to think Jake has fallen asleep. You feel something cold against your foot, only realising as it slides up your calf that it’s his foot. “Jake!” you whisper-yell, withdrawing your leg as he bursts into giggles that warm your heart. “Your feet are so cold,” you say in-between chuckles.
“I’m cold all over,” he whines. “Have they not turned the heating on yet? It’s already mid-November.”
“People are used to the cold here.”
“Well I’m not. Can we cuddle?” he suddenly asks, and he must somehow feel the way you freeze in place because he stammers out a justification straight away. “For, I mean, just for warmth, you know. I don’t think I’ll sleep otherwise.”
His foot finds yours again and you can’t help but laugh. “Sure, fine,” you say with a sigh as if you were doing only half-heartedly for his sake. As if this was some big sacrifice you were making, and not something you’d daydreamed about one too many times before. 
Your heart is beating a thousand miles a second when you scooch closer to Jake, his hands finding your waist as easily as if they’d been there a hundred times before. He pulls you in much closer than you had expected, holding you tightly against his chest, one arm for you to use as a pillow and one hand resting on your lower back. You try to calm your respiration so that he can’t hear how short of breath you are, but based on his own breathing, he seems to be out in five minutes. It takes you longer to fall asleep, every shift of his body sending shivers down your spine, but you manage to relax after some time, letting his warmth envelop you as you drift off to sleep.
--
The feeling of waking up with you in his arms is so unreal, Jake thinks he might still be dreaming.
He looks down at your peaceful sleeping face and can’t stop the smile that spreads on his lips. Jake always thinks you’re pretty, but this is a sight he particularly wants to commit to memory. He watches fondly as the bright sun rays of the early morning hit your face, making you scrunch your eyebrows and bury your face deeper against him. You grunt softly, and when he feels you shifting and stretching your legs, he pretends to fall asleep so you don’t catch him staring. It seems like you’ve raised your head, chin tilted towards him - if he’s lucky, you’re watching him “sleep” just like he did seconds ago.
He contains a smile at the joke that forms itself in his brain before shooting his eyes open, catching you off guard during what you thought was a private, secret moment. 
“Shit!” you yelp, practically jumping off of him and rolling onto the other side of the bed. He bursts into laughter, proud that his little prank was effective. Before you can scold him, he makes his way to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and bringing your back against his chest. He thinks he feels your body tense; but then you bring your hand over his, swiping your thumb back and forth against his skin, and you relax in his hold. “You’re so annoying,” you complain, but your voice is tender, almost weak.
He buries his face in your hair, trying not to be too loud when he inhales there. “Sorry,” he says, the smile evident in his voice. “The opportunity was right there. Caught you staring, huh?”
“You’re such an idiot.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” It’s quiet for a few minutes, and Jake is more than happy to enjoy this moment in silence, but there’s something burning the tip of his tongue. It’s been there for a while now, but he thinks he’s finally found the right moment. “Y/N?”
“Mm?”
“There’s something I couldn’t tell you last night, but I feel oddly okay saying it right now. Are you listening?” 
“I am, yeah,” you say gently, voice so soft it caresses his skin and draws goosebumps from it.
His chest expands and falls with a deep, shaky breath. With your back right against it, he’s scared you’ll hear that his heart is beating faster than it should. “Bad news first?” he says with a nervous chuckle.
“Uh-oh.”
“There’s no roundabout way to say this, so here goes, I guess.” He takes another breath. “I’m in love with you, Y/N.” You tense in his embrace, and he waits for you to say something, anything before he continues.
“Oh,” is all you say. He hopes it’s a good oh - even if it isn’t, he doesn’t let it deter him.
“Yeah. I really debated telling you this… I know you might not feel the same way. But I also know that if I don’t say anything and make the same mistake twice, I’ll beat myself up over it for the rest of my life.”
“The same mistake?” you ask, looking at him over your shoulder.
He gazes down at you tenderly, pushing hair away from your face with a gentle hand. “I already felt that way back when we lived in Australia. I was about to tell you but when I learned that I was moving, I didn’t wanna risk ruining the little time we had left together.”
The look on your face both breaks his heart and patches it up again. “Jakey…” you say, voice just a whisper. You turn around to face him and bury your face in the crook of his neck. The fact that you’re not saying much is making his stomach twist in agonising stress, but he takes it as a good sign that you’re still holding him tight and not running away.
“I think I’d be the luckiest guy on Earth if you felt the same way,” he says, hopefulness clear in his voice. 
And then he finally hears the words he’s been dying to hear all these years. “Of course, I feel the same way, Jake,” you say, eyes meeting his. “This isn’t bad news at all, it’s like, the best possible news ever.”
It takes him a few seconds, but when your words sink in, a bright smile graces his features. He feels tears coming up - tears of relief that you feel the same way, of sadness that it took the both of you so long to get here, of happiness that something new might start - he’s not sure. Perhaps everything at once.
“Of course?” he echoes, smiling wildly. “It wasn’t obvious to me.”
“Oh, gosh,” you murmur, burying yourself into him once more. “I can’t believe this is actually happening.”
He tightened his hold around you, bringing you to him as close as physically possible. “Me neither.”
The feeling of you tangling your bare legs with his and bunching up the fabric of his t-shirt in your fist awakens something in him - he had been in his head, thanking the heavens that you loved him back, reeling from his belated confession, but he was now very aware of his body. And of yours. He was reminded of Jay telling him to kiss you - although he hadn’t needed to go there to reveal his feelings to you, it was still a possibility. It was even more so now that he knew you felt the same way. 
He tries to be subtle as he brushes a hand up your back to the nape of your neck, gently grazing his fingernails against the skin there. He has to suppress a self-satisfied smirk when he feels you squirm under his touch, lifting your head to fix him with a scolding look. Your stern expression fades as soon as his eyes fall on your lips, however, and you quickly mirror his gaze. His lips part, and he feels his whole body shake as he takes a deep breath in. Who knew that you’d share your first kiss on a random Sunday morning in the fuckass middle of nowhere in Scotland?
Maybe you take pity on him, or you recognise the effort put into being the one to make the first move, or, as he’d like to think, you just really want to kiss him - either way, you’re the one who closes the gap and presses your lips to his.
Your lips. So soft, so delicate against his, absolutely perfect. It’s a simple, tentative touch, but he’s craved it for so long that it makes his head spin. He frowns, despite himself instantly needing more than this feather-like feeling of your lips brushing against each other. His mind tells him to calm down and take it slow, but his body takes over, urging him to grab the nape of your neck a little harder, to hold you a little closer to him, to kiss you a little stronger. Thankfully, you let him do all of this and more, hands finding purchase in his hair and returning his intensity tenfold. 
He doesn’t know what’s better - the fact that you’re kissing him or the kiss itself. The way your lips move against his is intoxicating; it wraps itself around its mind and leaves no room for thoughts that aren’t of you. You seem to want him as desperately as he wants you, to have waited for him as long as he did for you, and this is what drives him crazy. You press your body against his and he sees stars; you let out a moan against his lips and he kisses you deeper, ready to do anything to hear that melody again. 
Unfortunately, the only melody he gets to hear is that of his phone alarm, informing you that it’s quarter to eleven and that you have fifteen minutes to leave. Check-out at eleven am had sounded nice yesterday; now, he would stay in this dingy inn his whole life if it meant he got to keep kissing you. 
The both of you reluctantly break apart, bursting into giddy laughter when your eyes meet. As said before, Jake always thinks you’re pretty, but with your pupils blown and your lips plump from kissing, this might just be the prettiest he’s ever seen you. 
“You know, I like you a lot, but I’d like you even more if you could stop time,” you say.
He looks down at you with a smile, pushing away the strands of hair that had fallen on your face. “Sure, I’ll learn how to control time for you.”
“Thanks, Jakey.” You peck his lips, lingering, and he closes his eyes to savour your sweetness. 
“Anything for you, baby.” His eyes widen at the nickname slip, but you erupt into giggles.
“Baby?”
“Would you look at the time, we really got to go,” he says, detangling his limbs from yours. He pauses for a second. “Baby,” he repeats, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before bouncing from the bed.
You get ready together, and the mundane tasks of stripping sheets from a bed and packing bags become the funnest things he’s ever done. You’re all over each other, attacking the other with kisses and hugs; Jake doesn’t think he’s ever felt quite this happy. 
And this is only the beginning.
--
There’s a glint in the receptionist’s eyes when you check out of your room, as if she knew something you and Jake had been oblivious to all along. It’s the only one in town, so you go back to the little pub for a full breakfast with eggs, hash browns, haggis, and sausages. You get coffee so strong you think you might not sleep for the next four days, while Jake drinks tea that is equal parts sugar, milk, and actual tea.
From the moment you leave the pub to the moment you arrive at your doorstep, Jake’s hands barely leave yours. When they have to, like when you’re searching for the perfect seat on the train or when the controller checks your tickets, they’re back together within a minute, like two magnets that can’t stay apart for too long. The rain has long subsided, leaving place to a bright blue sky and wet blades of grass that shine in the sun. 
Now that your mutual feelings don’t need to be kept secret, you tell each other about everything you had to go through, like you pretending your good news was your mum having baked the cookies Jake liked and him seeing your new boyfriends every two months on your close friends story. He tells you about all the hints he’s dropped, causing you to facepalm over and over again. It feels like two friends catching each other to speed on all the latest gossip, except the topic of that gossip is you.
The juxtaposition of your familiarity with Jake with the novelty of behaving like a couple, of not having to hold back with your touches or gazes or words, is nothing if not jarring. But you have a feeling you’ll get used to it in no time. 
As you unlock the front door to your building, you don’t ask him if he’s coming up - to you, it’s a given that you’ll be spending the rest of today and every day after that together. So when he doesn’t follow you, staying still on the threshold, you turn around with a questioning look on your face. 
“There’s something I need to do this afternoon,” he says, taking both of your hands in his.
“Can’t I come with?” you say. Jake wavers for a second, but sadly, he stays firm in his decision.
“Sorry, baby, it’s a surprise. I’ll be back at seven with takeout?”
You can’t possibly be mad at him when he calls you baby and offers food in the same breath. “Only if you bring takeout.”
“You only love me because I feed you, don’t you?” he asks, a smile on his face.
“Yup,” you reply. You’re standing on a step, so you bend down to kiss him - you intend for it to be a peck, but when your lips touch, you’re unable to pull away. You let yourself get lost in the feeling of his lips on yours, in the warmth that takes over your body and makes your brain all fuzzy. 
A loud, affronted gasp from behind you makes you jump from Jake, and when you turn around, Chaewon and Yunjin are standing in the stairwell, staring at you with wide eyes and gaping mouths. 
“So this was a sexcapade?” is, much to your horror, the first thing Yunjin says.
Thanks to Chaewon, neither you nor Jake have the time to dwell on this sentence as she comes running down the stairs and pounces on you. You don’t know how a woman so small can have such force, but her hug is so tight you can barely breathe, let alone hug her back properly. “I knew you could do it!” she exclaims. When she pulls away, she seems so moved, it looks like she’s about to cry. “You finally popped your Jake cherry,” she whispers, but it’s loud enough for Jake to hear. A bark of laughter escapes his throat.
“Okay, thanks, guys,” you say, escaping this awkward situation and going up the stairs. “I’ll see you later, Jake!” you yell over your shoulder. The girls seem to be on their way out, and you’re more than happy leaving him to deal with them on his own. God knows you’ll get the worst of it when they come back. 
As soon as you get to your flat, you make a beeline for your bedroom, plopping on the bed. You’re the same person, and this is the same room. But something within you feels entirely different, like a scar that you had been carrying around had, without you even noticing, healed so well you could barely see it anymore. You lifted your hands in the air, looked at the back of them, then at your palms. They were the same old hands that had been with you your whole life, and you were almost shocked that there wasn’t something utterly different about them after having held Jake’s hand for so long. Just to be sure, you sniffed your right hand, but it didn’t smell any different, either. But you still felt Jake’s hand on yours, like headphones you’d been wearing for hours and still felt on your ears after taking them off.
Yunjin and Chaewon are back from their shopping half-an-hour later; they got you a chocolate fudge cake from Tesco to congratulate you. “You guys are acting like this is my birthday…” you say, eyeing the cake greedily as Chaewon cuts it into three equal parts (even though it says serves eight on the packaging). 
“This is more important than your birthday, Y/N,” Yunjin states as she pours oat milk into three cups of Earl Grey tea. “This is, like, the moment of a lifetime.”
“Are you saying a girl’s importance depends on her having a boyfriend?”
“Yes, Y/N, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Especially when said boyfriend is the guy she’s been pining after for all of her teenage and adult life.”
You sigh. “Well, he hasn’t exactly popped the boyfriend and girlfriend question yet.” They both turn to look at you, an annoyed look on their faces. You stand up straight, uncomfortable under their gazes. “What?”
“Usually, I’m all for clarity on this issue,” Chaewon starts. “But isn’t it pretty obvious here?”
“You’re still gonna have to tell us everything in minute detail, but Jake’s already told us what happened. He had no qualms referring to you as his girlfriend, so I really don’t think this is something you need to worry about. What you should worry about is when and where you’re going to hop on that dick.”
Chaewon bursts into laughter, and you can’t help but follow suit. “Gosh, Yunjin, you really do have a way with words.”
“I know. This is what having a Jane Austen hyperfixation at fifteen will do to you.”
Following Yunjin’s orders, you tell them about the events of the previous day and this morning over tea and cake. They ooh and ah and gasp in all the right places, ask you very specific questions and even make you draw a picture of the room you stayed in. You’ve talked to them about Jake so many times that there’s only so much to say now - but still, you talk for hours on end, deviating off-topic so often you end up talking about something else entirely. 
You’re in bed reading for your Middle English Literature class when the doorbell rings. It’s seven on the dot, so it can be no one else other than Jake. It’s been mere hours, but you’ve missed him enough to last you for weeks. 
He brought takeaway from the Indian place you’d raved about a hundred times but hadn’t brought him to yet. Somehow, your heart grows even fonder as you watch his reaction to the food, the raise of his eyebrows, the widening of his eyes, the excited shimmy of his shoulders. When you ask him about his afternoon, a wide smile breaks out onto his face, like a lightbulb illuminating a room. Without a word, he scurries to your room, bringing back some sort of book with him. He hands it to you  with a shy smile and curious eyes, eagerly anticipating your reaction. The cover reads Y/N and Jake in his clumsy but endearing handwriting, with the date of his arrival in Edinburgh and an em-dash scribbled underneath. “I haven’t booked my flight home yet, so I’ll add the second date later,” he explains. 
When you flick through it, you’re met with photographs of you and Jake on all of the trips you’ve done so far, as well as the various adventures you got up to in the city. There’s even one of you sleeping in the library at two am during midterms when you had forgotten about one of your essays, due at midday. Jake had come with coffee and words of encouragement, and now he could brag that the high mark you got was thanks to him. It’s not only photos - it’s also ticket stubs, receipts, stickers, and even a dried flower you had found pretty on your trip to St. Andrews. He’s also written quite a lot, from diary-like entries about what you got up to that day or songs that reminded him of you. 
“You misspelt right here,” you say, pointing to a sentence that reads This is the café write next to the hotel where the last Harry Potter book is said to have been written!!! under a photo of you drinking a massive cup of hot chocolate. The more you look at the typo, the more it makes you laugh, until you have tears brimming in your eyes.
Thanks to Yunjin’s messiness, pens and pencils are strewn over your coffee table. Jake, flushed red in embarrassment at the small mistake, snatches a pencil and aggressively erases write, spelling it correctly the second time around. “This is the level of today’s English Lit undergrads,” he murmurs under his breath. His frown disappears when he looks at you and he laughs along.
You continue looking through the album until you land on a page titled Why I love Y/N. From top to bottom, left to right, it’s filled with Jake’s tiny handwriting. You can tell he put effort into making it neat. There’s a singular photograph of you, one that dates from the first days after Jake’s arrival when you were walking around in the Meadows, the park right next to campus. The sun shone down on you and you smiled brightly at Jake behind the camera.  
You’re not a quarter through reading when tears swell in your eyes, rendering your vision blurry. You wipe them away before they can fall and stain the page. Jake has detailed every last thing he loves about you. It can hardly get cornier than this, but the fact that he wrote this about you makes your heart so full, you’re afraid it might explode in your chest. It ranges from basic things like the way she makes me laugh or her pretty face when she falls asleep in the train (or anywhere, for that matter) to more you-specific things like the strict pastel colour-coding she uses for her notes and her perseverance when eating spicy food even though she can’t take it. He mentions things about you that you didn’t even know, and that feeling of being known in-and-out, of being really seen by someone else only brings more tears to your eyes. Your favourite line comes at the end - the way she makes any place feel like home. A proper sob pushes past your lips at this, and Jake, who had been watching you with an anxious smile, rests a palm on your knee and inches closer to you.
“Why are you crying, is- Did I write something bad?”
You shake your head fervently. “No, no, Jakey, this is… It’s perfect. I’m just…” you trail, letting out a half-sob, half-chuckle. You look at him with a smile before pulling him into a tight hug. “I love it so much. I love you so much.”
You can feel Jake relax against you. “I love you too, baby. I’m glad you like it.”
You pull away after a small while, and turn the next page over. It’s a picture of you over breakfast this morning, with words WE’RE DATING!!!! written underneath it, and those simple words make you so happy, your cheeks ache from smiling. But every page after that is empty. Jake scratches the back of his neck. “I, um, I thought we could fill the rest out together. I debated just doing it myself and giving it to you at the end of the year, but I thought it’d be more fun doing it together.”
“It would. This is such an amazing idea,” you say, flicking back through the pages.
“I thought of it because of that project I had. When I started working on it, all the photos I wanted to include were of you, but I wasn’t sure how much my professor would appreciate that… So I decided to make one more personal. One for us,” he says shyly, shrugging like it’s no big deal.
“Thank you so much, Jakey.”
He smiles. “It’s no worries.”
“Did you do it all this afternoon?”
“I had started it before, but I added it most of today, yeah. Which, by the way, awful timing. I wanted nothing more than to spend today with you.”
Your heart leaps. You’re not sure you’ll ever get used to hearing such words from Jake’s mouth.
Sometime later, you’re laying in bed with Jake between your legs, watching the most recent animated Spiderman movie. With the tips of your fingers, you draw random patterns on his forearm, and if it wasn’t for his occasional chuckles, you’d think he had fallen asleep. You chat for a bit after the movie, but you find that after such an emotionally-packed day, you’re ready to call it a night fairly early. But when the lights are off and it’s just you lying against Jake’s chest, his fingernails grazing your scalp and his familiar, comforting scent clouding your judgement, all thoughts of an early night are thrown out of the window.
You shouldn’t feel so nervous - you had fallen asleep in his arms last night, and it had gone well. Really well. 
“This is different from yesterday, isn’t it?” Jake suddenly says, breaking the heavy silence with a low voice. It’s like he read your mind.
“Yeah,” you whisper against his skin.
No other words are needed. You brush the tip of your nose along his neck until you reach his jawline, pressing soft kisses there and delighting in the increasing shakiness of his breath. The feeling of your lips meeting is so intense, so all-encompassing, that you don’t know if you’ll be able to handle anything more.
This is still new territory, but you’re both so eager to discover it that it makes for a messy kiss, lips moving against each other ravenously, tongues beckoning moans from the other. It’s a kiss that somehow leaves you breathless and breathes oxygen back into your lungs at once. 
In a matter of seconds, Jake has flipped you on your back and is hovering over you, one hand holding him up and one hand free to roam your body. He slips it underneath your t-shirt, brushes it along the side of your waist, his touch leaving behind a trail of fire blazing on your skin. It’s so distracting, you can’t even kiss him back properly anymore. Jake doesn’t seem to mind. At first, when he starts pressing hot kisses to your jawline and your neck, you think he’s giving you a respite - but when he gently sinks his teeth into the skin there, leaving marks that will later remind you tonight wasn’t a dream, chuckling as you squirm and whine under him, you understand that this is anything but a respite. 
You curse your earlier decision of not wearing a bra, because it gives you no preparation whatsoever to the sensation of Jake brushing his thumb against one of your nipples. With a loud gasp, your back arches off of the bed, which only aids Jake in raising your t-shirt up over your breasts. 
He takes a minute to admire the sight of you panting and half-naked underneath him. It makes you feel shy, and you want to do something so that he stops looking and starts doing, but his gaze holds you in place. His pupils are blown with lust, eyes raking over your body and taking everything in. You have a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that it’s you he’s looking at with those eyes. 
His soft lips attach themselves to your nipple while his fingers continue their work on the other one. You’ve never felt this sensitive, never felt this on edge, like you might fall apart at any second even with so little simulation. Your core throbs, impatiently waiting to be tended to, but you’re already trembling so hard from Jake’s attention to your breasts that you don’t know what will happen to you once he actually touches you down there.
“You doing okay, baby?” he asks, the rasp in his voice making you want him impossibly more. You grip his hair and he looks up at you, a tender smile on his lips. You nod your head yes and he laughs. “Yeah? You want more?” You pause at his question. You do want more, but is it worth your sanity?
It takes you a second to decide that it’s worth that and more. You nod again. 
Jake seems to have sensed your hesitation. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I am. It’s just a lot.”
His expression of worry softens into a smile. “I’ll take it slow for you, love. It’s a lot for me, too.” He leans in to press soft kisses to your cheek, and some of the tension in your body diffuses. Whatever happens, Jake will be there to take care of you. “But it feels good, right?” he asks, lips moving against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
“So good, Jakey,” you reply shakily.
“Good.”
You can tell that Jake really does want to take it slow - his movements are more deliberate, gentler. But eagerness, both yours and his, soon takes over, and a minute later, he’s trailing kisses down your body until he reaches your lower stomach. Your breath quickens as he hooks fingers underneath your leggings and underwear, sliding both garments down your legs and leaving you bare to him. You think the feeling of his lips on the fleshy parts of your inner thighs is what might actually do you in, make you lose your sense of reality forever - but then his tongue darts out against your clit, a barely-there touch, and your whole body flatlines. 
Your reaction eggs Jake on, who, more confident now, takes the sensitive bud in his lips and alternates between sucking and licking motions. A knot ties itself embarrassingly quickly in your stomach, a knot that tightens and tightens as Jake flattens his tongue against you, licking up your juices from your entrance to your clit; a knot that threatens to come loose when he slides a long finger inside of you. You can’t take more than thirty seconds of this.
“Jakey,” you say, voice practically a moan. Your brain is fuzzy and it takes a distressing amount of time to form a simple sentence. “Can you come here?”
“Is something wrong, baby?” he asks breathily, sliding his finger out of you and coming back up so that his face is right above yours. 
“No, just… I want you.”
Any trace of worry on Jake’s features dissipates as he cocks an eyebrow, one corner of his lips tugging up into a smirk. “Is that so?”
This kind of boldness would usually have you rolling your eyes, but here, it only makes your core throb more violently. It’s almost humiliating how much you want this man. It’s definitely humiliating, how easy it is to swallow your pride and play into his game. “Yes, please,” you say, eyes pleading with him.
He smiles almost giddily before burying his face against the side of yours. “My baby’s so polite,” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”
“Take this off, then,” you say, grabbing the bottom hem of his t-shirt. 
“So she says please and gives orders,” he jokes, quickly obliging anyway. 
Not once in your time apart had Jake posted any sort of beach trip or pool photos, so this was the first time you saw his bare chest. God, was it one for the history books. You trace the defined lines of his muscles with a finger and wonder how he had managed to get even more perfect. He lets you marvel at him for it, clearly proud that you’re gawking so shamelessly, but your mind drifts back to more urgent matters when he presses himself into you, his clothed cock, hard and hot, brushing against your folds. “Fuck,” you sigh, bucking your hips into his to feel him over and over again.
It’s so much, but it’s not enough; Jake instantly gets your message when you hook your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, pulling him to you and kissing him feverishly. Your lips don’t part as he slides his boxers off, and you drink up the nectar that are his moans as you take him in your hand, pumping him a few times.
“Condom?” he asks, but you shake your head.
“I’m on the pill. And even so… I usually always use a condom, but I don’t want to now. Not with you.”
Jake closes his eyes as he takes a deep, stabilising breath. “I feel totally normal about that. Not crazy at all.”
You giggle, and he opens his eyes, a wide smile gracing his lips before he bends down to kiss you. “You ready for the night of your life?” he asks against your lips. “It’s gonna last five minutes, tops,” he says, making you laugh again. “I’m sorry, baby, I can’t do anything about it. I think I could’ve cum just from eating you out.”
“That would’ve been hot.”
“Really? We’ll make it a challenge for next time, then.”
When Jake plunges into you, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. He fills you up, slow inch by slow inch, until he’s buried to the hilt inside you. You both need some time getting used to the feeling - Jake drops his head in the crook of your neck and lets out a sound between a grunt and a moan, something you’ve never heard from him before. You grab onto his shoulders, fingernails digging into his skin as you try to tether yourself to him. You hold him so tight that he has no choice but to let his body rest on top of yours, his arms coming to circle your waist and bring you even closer. 
His movements start out halting, the pleasure so overwhelming that it makes it hard for him to move steadily. In time, he falls into a torturously slow rhythm, but it’s the perfect kind of torture, the kind that has tears brimming in your eyes. It’s so hard to take, and yet you want more. You’re brought closer to the edge with every thrust of his dick into you, especially as he picks up the pace and lifts your hips to meet his. The new angle has his tip brushing against that spot deep inside you that makes it hard to breathe. 
You can tell he’s just as close as you when he loses that steady rhythm he had found, his motions growing more desperate, harsher, quicker. Conscious of your roommates, you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans as your orgasm washes over you, your whole body on fire, so sensitive that the few more seconds Jake needs to come undone himself drive both your body and your mind into overstimulation. Even the feeling of him pulling out, drops of hot liquid dripping out of your entrance, is too much and makes you let out a small, tired whine. 
Jake peppers your face with kisses as he holds your waist tightly, brushing his thumb back-and-forth on your warm skin, sticky with sweat. “You did so well, baby. So good for me.” You think you might be ready for a second round if he keeps talking to you like that. “I love you so much.”
You sigh deeply, as if you were just told disconcerting news. “Okay.”
“Okay?!” he echoes, looking up at you with an outraged expression on his face.
“I’m sorry, I love you too, I just- I’m not used to this yet! You can’t just tell me you love and expect me to be normal. You have to warn me first.”
“Can I just warn you now that I’m going to tell you I love you every time I get the chance?”
You sigh. “I guess.” 
“Can I tell you now?” he asks, and you hum. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
Jake tuts. “I highly doubt it, but whatever makes you happy.”
You hold Jake close to you, one arm around his shoulders and the other hand playing with his hair as you come down from your high. You think he might’ve fallen asleep, and you’re close to drifting off yourself when he speaks. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this. Not just the sex, although that has been on my mind for a while now,” he says, making you laugh, “but all of this. Being together, getting to be in your arms like this, kissing you whenever I want. Calling you my girlfriend.”
“Me too, Jakey. I waited so long I didn’t think it would ever happen.”
Jake chuckles. “How stupid were we not to have noticed we felt the same way?”
“Very stupid. I think we felt so sorry for ourselves that we were stuck in one-sided love, that we didn’t even realise the other was going through the exact same thing. But at least we’re now.”
“At least we’re here now.” You and Jake yawn at the exact same time, making you burst into giggles, giddy with sleep and love.
“Let’s sleep, baby,” you say.
Jake hums, burying himself deeper against your body. “Sleep well, my love. I’ll be here.”
--
After years of pining after each other, you and Jake find it a bit hard to keep your relationship to yourselves, or your hands off of each other.
At the beginning, all of your friends had been happy for you, but that quickly went away when your and Jake’s honeymoon phase never died down and the PDA just kept on going. If the glue you were stuck with previously was metaphorical, this one was pretty close to being real. Superglue kept you together, your moments together rarely spent without some sort of physical touch. Yunjin fake-gagged so often, you were afraid she might actually vomit one of these days. It took Sunghoon two weeks longer than everyone else to clock you and Jake had started dating.
This meant that in private, there was truly no holding back. Jake back-hugged you any chance he got, to the point you started to think he was more koala than human - although that’d imply he saw you as a tree. Make-out sessions were a particular favourite of yours - how could they not be when your boyfriend’s lips seemed to have been carved by God himself, soft and plump to the heavens, like they were made to be kissed. Really, you were just honouring God’s will when you kissed Jake.  
The goodbye that comes at the end of the year is not an easy one, and the month spent at home before you fly to Korea seems to never end. But you get there eventually, and as nice as it is to catch up with Jake’s parents after so long, you feign sleepiness after lunch as an excuse to get some time alone with your boyfriend. Ironically, this “time alone” is spent so intensely that you do end up falling asleep afterwards. 
You have to admit, you really did a number on your boyfriend this time - what can a girl do when she missed her boyfriend this much? Jake is still passed out when you wake up from your nap, so you slip out as discreetly as you can from his embrace and get out of bed. You head for the closet first and swipe the comfiest looking sweater of his that you find there so you can stay warm as you look around his room. A pang of melancholia hits your chest - most of the pictures and objects on his walls and shelves are parts of his life you weren’t around to witness. Friends you don’t recognize, places you’ve never heard of, phases you’d never known he’d gone through. But then you see the frame on his desk, a faded photo of the two of you at ten years of age, eating ice cream on the bench outside of your house. Milo is sitting at your feet. Jake’s family hadn’t adopted Layla yet. You realise that even if there’s whole parts of your life you didn’t get to share with each other, nothing could touch your memories, or your future.
You want to go back in time and tell fourteen-year-old you that no matter how painful it might seem at the moment, it will all be worth it for the sight of Jake Sim slowly drifting into wakefulness, patting the bed next to him, and noticing you’re missing with furrowed eyebrows. When he opens his eyes and they settle on you, a sleepy smile will grace his dazzling features, and he’ll say, “Come back to bed.”
You’ll be even more in love at twenty than at fourteen.
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astranva · 10 months
Text
Instagram Live
Word Count: 1k
Category: Fluff
Summary: Harry joins his girlfriend’s Instagram live.
..
There were a lot of labels that people never seemed to like.
There were relationship labels that people fought over, sexuality labels that every media outlet liked to plaster, and scandalous labels that could break a royal’s reputation.
However, your label as Harry’s girlfriend was one that you actually seemed to enjoy.
Harry’s normal girlfriend.
Sure, you were called “Harry Styles’ girlfriend” more times than you were called by your own name ever since you became public three years ago, but if there was anything you felt like you had bragging rights about, it would be that you managed to form a connection with his fans for being yourself, and especially on TikTok.
It came as a surprise to many and most when people caught up to the woman Harry seemed so infatuated with that he was grinning some more, directing sappy lyrics to on stage, and going shopping with at places that weren’t Gucci. You were relatable.
Your TikToks were international treasure, especially ones where you pranked Harry or participated in couple challenges with, so it was no surprise that even your Instagram harbored some following who were instantly excited and urgent to join once they had got the notification.
yourinstagram started a live video. Watch it before it ends!
Clad in a black Pleasing crewneck, hair up in a microfiber towel, your legs were pushed up slightly against your chest as you painted your nails, peaking to see you already had 14,374 viewers.
“Helloooo,” you dragged, smiling once you saw the excited comments coming through.
user1: OMG HEY BESTIE
user2: PLEASING
user3: NO WAY YOU’RE LIVE
user4: hey, y/n! how are you doing?
“I’m doing okay,” you answered, sighing a little, “Just taking a quick break from studying and thought we could have a chat.”
user5: you’re still studying?
user6: OMG SAY HI ANGELA PLS
user7: @/user she’s getting a master’s degree where have u been
user8: do you miss harry?
“Hi Angela,” you smiled, “Yeah, I’m getting my master’s degree. Guys, I literally forgot how awful exams and assignments were because I graduated like, four years ago, so I don’t miss it,” you said, “Do I miss Harry? No, of course not. I don’t know who that is.”
user9: STOP DID THEY BREAK UP?
user10: I hope you’re joking
user11: NOT YALL BELIEVING HER ALKJWKJFH
You chuckled, “Some of you are new here, huh?”
user9: Y/N HARRY IS WATCHING
user12: HARRY
user8: HARRY IS WATCHING WEIFWEFH
harrystyles: Boo. You miss me.
user13: NO FUCKING WAYYYYY
You laughed, “You’re going to break them.”
user2: I CAN’T BREATHE
harrystyles: Oops.
harrystyles: Have you eaten?
user14: PLSSSS I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M SEEING THIS
“Yeah, I-Oh my God, H, I made one the best salads ever. It had chicken, like grilled chicken, and I had bell peppers, corn, lettuce, cherry tomatoes, red beans, onions,” you counted on your fingers, “Then I made this creamy avocado dressing. It was so fucking good.”
user4: share the recipe bestie
harrystyles: Yum. Can’t wait to try it when I see you.
harrystyles: Breakfast?
“Yeah, I had breakfast, too,” you nodded, “Butter toasts and those olives we got from Italy,” you said, “What about you? Are you eating well?”
user5: I can’t believe we’re witnessing this
user15: it’s like they’re on the phone together
user16: I want to sit on a highway
harrystyles: We had tacos! 🌮
You gasped jokingly, “Did you actually eat tacos because I was telling you about how much I’ve been craving them yesterday?”
paulithepsm: Y/NNNNNNN
user7: PAULI IS HERE
harrystyles: Yes. Hehe.
“Pauli!” You grinned, “I missed you too much!” You were beaming before pointing a finger at the screen, “Same doesn’t go for you though, H. I can’t believe you ate tacos without me.”
harrystyles: PAULI
user8: KEHFKWJE CRYING
paulithepsm: HARRY
paulithepsm: I miss my best friend 😭😭
user18: PLS
harrystyles: I’m sorry. I’ll make you tacos when you get here. Promise.
harrystyles: Show me your nails.
You showed your freshly painted nails to the screen, “Some Citrico Vibrante Cremoso greens,” you showed them off, “Buy Pleasing,” you teased, “Or find more affordable dupes, babes.”
user6: PLSSSS SHE’S SO REAL FOR THAT
harrystyles: I’ll match with you.
“You can wait until I come. I’ll paint them for you,” you said.
harrystyles: OKAY ❤
user3: HE’S SO CUTE
user10: THE EMOJIS HE'S SO REAL
jeffazoff: Come get your man. He’s a pain.
You laughed, “Aw come on, Jeff. He’s not too bad. You just need to cuddle him and feed him.”
harrystyles: Agreed.
harrystyles: Jeff, don’t cuddle me.
user19: KEUDUEWFKHJ PLS
jeffazoff: I wasn’t planning on it 🙄 I’m waiting for Y/N to come and do that
“I leave you for two weeks and now you’re about to kill each other,” you sighed, “Hey, before I forget, can you tell Lamby that I’ve been trying to send him my final thoughts about the outfit but it won’t get to him for some reason?”
harry_lambert: My phone’s been acting up, babe. Send it on email! 🖤
user20: I just want to be her
harrystyles: I love your outfit.
“Okay, Lamby, will do,” you said before giggling, standing up and backing away a little to show the Pleasing crewneck and the baggy green sweatpants you were wearing, “Oh yeah? What do you think?” You put a hand to your hip before pretending to flick back your hair, “My boyfriend got me that sweatshirt,” you pointed at it, “And these are his sweatpants,” you pointed again, “Hair by me, nails by me but using my boyfriend’s nail polish,” you said, wiggling your fingers before approaching your phone again, “He’s kind of a big deal.”
user6: PLSS WHY IS THIS SO CUTE
user7: she’s so cute
harrystyles: He’s so fucking lucky.
You giggled, cupping your hand around your mouth, “Harry Styles just cursed on live,” you whispered.
user18: LMFAOOOOO
user21: “he’s so fucking lucky” I DIED BYE
jeffazoff: Scandalous
harrystyles: OH FUCK
harrystyles: 😎
You laughed, “This is some content your fans will absolutely go feral over,” you said, “I need to go now.”
harrystyles: Call me?
user20: I’m not okay
You nodded, “I’ll call you right after I end that thing. Bye, guys! Talk to you later!”
3K notes · View notes
bellawoso · 1 month
Text
We fell in love in October
Alexia Putellas x fem!reader
A/N: this was going to be an Ona fic, but when I discovered this picture of lex, I couldn’t help myself 🤍
i brought back diego for this fic, he is too cute not to, and y/n + diego are besties in every universe :)
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You were not happy that you were coming into work today, after working a full day yesterday, crammed with people only seeming to be ordering pumpkin spiced lattes with the now colder autumn days.
You loved your job, working in a small cafe in Barcelona whilst you completed your studies, seeing your favourite regulars each day, and the perk of being able to make yourself a coffee whenever you would like.
It wasn’t unheard of for new customers to come in, however it was extremely rare. The cafe was tucked away in the depths of Barcelona, reserved for locals who new the area extremely well.
One of your favourite regulars was a tall, heavily tattooed, blonde woman, who often came in each morning in a Barcelona training kit, wanting a latte.
At first, you had joked that she was a big fan of Barcelona, thinking her matching kit was quite extreme for a fan, however you later learnt to your surprise that she was on the team, which she still teased you about to this day.
Your co-worker Diego, a massive football fan, still fawned over Mapi each day she came in, until one day you couldn’t stand his shyness and instead asked the question that always lingered on the tip of his tongue.
“Diego wants to know when you will bring some other footballers Mapi”, this statement received a smack to your arm from said co-worker, who had blushed crimson red.
“I’m a big fan, okay?” Diego justified himself.
Except Mapi only chuckled and explained she liked having her “own” coffee shop hidden away, and didn’t like sharing with her teammates.
You and Diego left it there, understanding people like their own secret pleasures, Mapi’s being the staple in her daily routine, of visiting you two and ordering a latte.
———————————————————————
You had forgotten about the conversation with Mapi, until two weeks later, she walked through the door at her usual time, you and Diego had already pre-prepared her drink, except for this time, a blonde woman, also in her training kit, followed her into the cafe.
The moment you and Diego both saw Alexia, you both stood there dumbfounded for a second, completely forgetting Mapi’s drink.
Diego was shocked because as a loyal football fan, he obviously knew who Alexia Putellas was, it was hard not to, internally he was fangirling.
You however, thought Mapi’s teammate was beautiful, her smile, her eyes, her muscles.
You broke out of your trance first, handed Mapi her drink, whilst asking “Would your friend like anything?”
The girl spoke up “a latte aswell please”
When you asked for a name for her order, she froze for a second, the majority of people in Barcelona knew who she was, with her infamous nickname “Reina”
Mapi chuckled and muttered
“Ella es inglesa, y no es fanática del fútbol” (She’s English and not a football fan)
You, having moved from England for your studies only a year ago, had no clue what they were saying rapidly in their heavily accented Spanish.
Diego however, heard and laughed with them “She’s called Alexia chica, do you not know the footballer”
“I’m sure if I knew, then I would not be asking, would I? Idiota!” You replied whilst scribbling down the name on the cup, as Diego feigned a look of hurt as he prepared Alexia’s drink.
“Si Diego, deja en paz a mi barista favorito!” Mapi said (Yes Diego, leave my favourite barista alone!)
“I don’t know what Maps said, but I agree with her” which earned a grin from Mapi, as you handed Alexia’s drink to her.
“Pasarlo bien” (enjoy)
“Gracias y/n” Alexia replied with a soft smile, as her eyes lingered on your name tag.
“Adios chicos! See you tomorrow” Mapi shouted as she left the shop.
“Adios Mapi, and Alexia!” You and Diego shouted.
As soon as the door shut, Diego squealed in excitement, “you like her! You have a crush on Alexia Putellas!”
“Shut up Diego! No I do not”
“Ay! Do not fret chica, I saw she was eyeing you up too!”
“Don’t be silly Diego! Now hurry you have to prepare Val’s drink, she comes in soon!”
Although Diego left his teasing there, it didn’t stop for the next few weeks when Alexia accompanied Mapi each morning, and both you and Alexia constantly flirted with each other, but neither making the first move.
Until one morning Alexia didn’t come in with Mapi, and the regular explained how Alexia had to go in earlier today, but how she was going to call in later after training at around 3 o’clock.
Until at 3pm, just as Mapi said, your favourite blonde stepped through the door.
“Bon día, my favourite customer!” you said, earning a smile from Alexia, she usually complimented your improving Spanish, which always no doubt brought a blush to your cheeks.
“Hola y/n! Can I have a-“
“A latte? It’s already finished Ale” you said, sliding her drink towards her, the use of her nickname falling from your lips made the midfielders cheeks flush pink.
“Thankyou cari, tastes as amazing as always” Alexia had recently been using the term of endearment for you, the first time you head it, you choked on your latte, making Diego and Mapi let out a boisterous laugh.
“Can I get you anything else lexia?” You asked.
“Your number.” The blunt statement caught you off guard, did you hear that right?
The girl you had been pining over for the last month wanted your number?
Alexia mistook the silence as rejectment, and turned to leave muttering a soft “lo siento”
“Ale! Wait!” Which made the Spaniard turn back round, a glint of hope sparking in her eyes.
You grabbed a napkin and scribbled down your number, adding a heart on the end and handing it to the blonde, who looked like an excited puppy.
“Call me?”
“Why else would I want your number cari?”
You blushed at the obvious statement, shrugged your shoulders, and the previous adrenaline high you received from Alexia asking for your number, pushed you to lean over the counter and kiss the blonde’s cheek, making her in turn blush.
“See you tomorrow?” The blonde hesitantly asked.
“Diego missed you.” You stated.
“If I gave you both tickets for the upcoming match, would you go?” The blonde asked uncertainly.
“To cheer you on? Obviously ale.”
The Spaniard grinned happily at your answer, said goodbye, and left.
The same night, you received two e-mail tickets for the upcoming Barcelona match.
When you told Diego, to say he was excited was an understatement.
You however, was only excited to see where your new future with Alexia would take you.
———————————————————————
A/N: Making a part 2 now! But I will do a poll of New Romantics part 3 or part 2 of this! 🤍
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solbaby7 · 10 days
Note
If ur still taking requests can i ask for azriel x reader. Where reader and Az are newish friends. One day Elain asks reader for help on how to please a man (I imagine elain always on her back 🤷‍♀️). Reader asks elain if its to show Az and elain just blushes sweetly saying "maybe". Reader being a girls girl shows elain how to be ontop and how to do other favors like if they were besties. ( idk if uve seen game of thrones but a girl shows khalessi how to ride khal drogo. The girl straight up straddles her with clothes on of course, And shows her. I have it in my head that while reader straddles elain Az walks in and is like 😮😮). Readers a bit jealous cuz she has a mini crush on azriel but doesnt show it. She sees elain with some hickies and what not and she decides she cant be around Az anymore (hurts too much blah idk lol). Az is like wtf! Turns out that Elain was asking for sexy help for lucien!!! Doesnt have to be detailed smutty at all, whatever ur comfortable with is cool with me. Oh btw i so so loved that possessive toxic azriel fic u posted the other day. 🫠🫠🫠 🥵🥵🥵
I love love love love love this idea! So happy you requested it🤍💗
Teach Me
azriel x reader
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“Well—can you help me with that?” A furious blush fans across Elain’s cheeks, eyes wide and hands fumbling at her sides. Dainty fingers dig into the intricate lace detailing of her dress, nails raking over the pattern in attempts to calm the racing of her heart.
“You want to know how to please a male,” You repeat gently, slightly shocked after she’d timidly slipped into your bedroom with flushed cheeks and sweaty palms. It took Elain ten whole minutes to reign in her rambling until she’d finally blurted it out. “Anyone in particular?” She doesn’t meet your eye, shifting her weight from foot to foot and your stomach rolls at the turn your mind takes. Elain had been spending a lot of time around Azriel; afternoons spent tending to the garden and evenings were blocked off to trail behind as she baked some new sweet treat. “Az, maybe?”
“Maybe,” Elain mutters softly, subtly taking in the contents of your room. The pictures propped against your side table and the endless jars and creams stacked neatly on your vanity. “Can you please teach me?”
Pushing side your curiosity, you offer an encouraging smile, patting at the spot beside you on the bed. “Come here.” The first step is hesitant and so is the one that follows but Elain still finds herself following the gentle command and complying even further when you urge her to lie back. You can feel her thighs shake when you swing a leg over to straddle them but the trembling subsides when you adjust her hair and straighten out her dress. “Sex is like a dance.”
Immediately, she’s hooked, hanging onto every word as if you were the Mother herself coming down for a personal visit. Briefly, Elain’s gaze flicks to the door, shoulders relaxing when noting its shut and locked; curtains drawn and the fireplace crackled with life. The smell of you is everywhere. Something light yet memorable, soft and elegant, classic and slightly sweet—soothing in every way. “A dance?”
“It starts off slow,” You begin, a sliver of your abdomen exposed in your Night Court attire. A breathable onyx top that seemed to wrap around your chest like a bandage, blending into a lighter material that was slightly see-through. “Lingering glances from across the room, the heat of feeling his eyes watching you long after you’ve looked away.” Her confusion is palpable in her furrowed brows and slight pout. “Love always begins in the eyes—I’ve heard of women who’ve finished males with nothing more than their gaze alone.”
“Finished?” Your brow raises, a teasing smirk accompanying it and the implication alone has Elain’s cheeks rosy once more. “Oh, gods. I don’t think I’m capable of anything like that.”
Your fingers trace along the length of her bare arms, holding her hands and guiding them to the sides of her head as you hover, voice low. “You are a woman. You’re capable of anything.”
Elain swallows thickly, taking in the words as if it were the first time she truly wanted to believe them. “What if he doesn’t like it? Like me or the fact that I’m not very experienced.”
“They don’t care about if you have experience or not. They simply desire what they’ve never had.” She hangs onto every word, analyzing the way you guide her through the motions of what she’d do. Talking her through the scenarios on how she’d touch; when to kiss and gently tug at hair. Eventually the blushing becomes less frequent, Elain’s eyes fluttering closed as she visualized it, working through the new feelings that brewed at the thought of being able to use such teachings.
“And they like that? Us on top?”
“If you like it then they’ll love it.” You rest her hands at your waist, demonstrating the sensual rocking of hips going back and forth. “Fae males are not like the human men you were accustomed to—all sweet and gentle. Fae’s fuck. They take control,” You’re still above her, watching as her thoughts race a mile a minute, thick lashes fluttering before she moves in a flurry. Quickly the position is changed and while it’s a little sloppy, Elain was obviously paying attention as she hooks her leg over your thighs the same way you had hers. “Good job—exactly like that.”
She lets out a laugh, seemingly surprised in her own actions but the thrill of it all is evident across ethereal features. “My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest.”
“Breathe through it and always remember that no matter how highly you think of him in your mind, no matter how highly others think of him—in that room, he belongs to you. There for you to do as you please and if you’re ever uncomfortable you can always say no. You can always stop no matter how far you’ve gotten.”
Elain nods in understanding, dainty fingers barely gripping at your wrists. “Thank you for this. I don’t know what I’d do if—just, thank you.”
She lingers a tad longer, following every instruction you give and just as you’re about to correct her, your door creaks open. A familiar voice calls out your name, shadows slinking across the wallpaper but they freeze once they take you in—sprawled out against the bed with Elain straddling you, hands pinned by your head.
“We were just—“ Elain scrambles off of you, cheek and chest a furious red as her mouth opens and closes; unable to come up with a reasonable explanation before she’s sliding past Azriel and rushing down the hallway.
“Most people knock.”
But Az wasn’t most people. You’d been friends for years and long since had he forgone the formality of knocking before entering. He hasn’t moved an inch, still donning his fighting leathers and surely he must’ve just rushed in from flying because his hair was a fucking mess. Inky strands lay messily atop his head, flopping over his forehead and teasing the thick of his brows. “What was that?” A finger points in the direction Elain had just disappeared off too and you’re unable to explain why such anger swells in your gut—all too aware of the fact that another female would be using your moves on him.
Seducing him in a manor that belonged to you but would never actually be you.
“Just wait a little, I’m sure it’ll make sense soon.” Confusion sweeps over the angles of his face at the vagueness of your words, skewing the corners of his mouth and you have to physically tear your eyes away before you did something stupid. Like, kiss him. You suck in a sharp breath, a hand curling around the doorknob. “You should get to bed, Az. It’s late.”
You can’t bear to see the look on his face when you close the door on him but it was for the best. It was one thing crushing on him while knowing he wanted another. But it was more complicated now, teaching the object of all his desires exactly what to do to him—how to please him and draw out the sounds you’d been dreaming about for decades.
You flop down on your bed, nose scrunching at the lingering smell of Elain on your pillows.
Sleep doesn’t grace you with her presence that night, instead offering a series of scenarios of what could be happening a few hallways down.
Elain’s back two days later, a goofy grin spread across her cheeks and a line of hickeys branding the side of her neck in a way that makes your stomach turn. It takes everything in you to hide the jealously, to smooth over the embarrassment of ever possibly thinking that Azriel would go for you when he had a blushing Archeron hanging off his arm. “I take it that it went well.”
“More than well,” Elain confessed, dressed in a pale shade of green with ivy’s laced into the thin sleeves. “It was perfect—everything was perfect thanks to you.” She continues on, divulging naughty details and devastating descriptions of Azriel’s fingers grazing at bare skin, the tickle of his hair against her cheek, the warmth radiating from his body when the nights chill became too much. “I’d always heard whispers about the males of Autumn but you guys really weren’t joking,” Your head tilts to the side at that certain detail, brow quirking and your spoon halts its swirling about the teacup. “Fire really does run through their veins.”
“Autumn males?” Your hair flicks behind your shoulder with the wild way you turn to face her, arms crossed loosely over your chest. “You were with Lucien last night?”
Elain nods with a knowing smile growing at the corner of full lips, the tulle of her dress shifting obnoxiously when she takes a seat on your bed.
“I guess I just assumed you’d be with Azriel.”
“Not quite my type,” She replies wistfully, gaze far away as if she were reminiscing on the night before and the male involved. “He’s yours though,” It’s not a question but a statement, thrown out there as if it were a known fact amongst others and you were the last to be let in. “—you like him.”
The teacup pressed to your lips muffles the words but Elain still understands perfectly clear. “”He’s my friend.”
“Friends don’t really look at friends the way he looks at you.” You swallow audibly, attempting to hide your interest and yet it’s the quick flick of your eyes that gives you away. “It’s exactly as you said the other night,” Elain raises from the bed, a gentle hand trailing up your arm the same way you’d done to her. “Love always begins in the eyes. Just look at him—really look at him and see what’s right in front of you.”
Your hands tremble in your lap and for the first time in a very long while, it was you that felt like the blushing virgin searching for answers and not knowing where to look. “I don’t think I’m capable of handling what I might find.”
“You are a woman,” Elain softly answers. “You’re capable of anything.”
769 notes · View notes
atticrissfinch · 8 months
Note
HI BESTIE IT’S ME HELLO HI! I HAVE REQUEST.
I love your stories I’m wondering if you’d ever want to write a serial killer joel where reader is lost in the woods or something and he invites her in and she tries to leave once she sees but😈sorry I’m so fucked up HAHAHA thank you🩵
Hostage (serial killer!joel miller x fem!reader) (18+)
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pairing: serialkiller!joel miller x fem!reader summary: when you get lost in the woods, a stranger offers to help you get back to your camping site. when your gut tells you to run, you run--until he catches you. CAUTION: PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS/TAGS warnings/tags:  [18+ MINORS DNI]  dark!serialkiller!joel, extreme dubcon/essentially noncon, kidnapping, assault, gunplay, gun insertion, knifeplay, mentions of blood/bloodplay, mentions of ambiguous full noncon, restraints, unprotected piv, creampie, antiquated views on how vaginas work, degradation as an insult (whore, slut, bitch, cunt, etc)word count: ~5.2K | ao3 a/n: thank you to @within-the-depths for this lovely request! I love delving into dark!joel and this was the perfect excuse to try something new for me!! Might be a possibility for some sequels here if i get inspired enough and people like this 👀 Masterlist | Kofi
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Camping by yourself had seemed like an awesome idea at the time, but at this moment, the gravity of your poor decision-making skills is really setting in. 
You stumble through the bramble and brush, every direction a carbon copy of the one you faced prior. Your dumb ass didn’t think you’d need your entire hiking pack just to fill your canteen at the nearby babbling brook. All you needed was a good ear, right? Just follow the sounds of the stream, no problem. 
Yeah. Fucking problem. 
The woods around you are thick and dense, disorienting you as you search for the proper path. You should have turned back about 25 minutes ago, but now you have no fucking idea where “back” even is. 
“Lookin’ a little lost there, darlin’.”
You jump about a mile into the air at the voice behind you, and you whirl around frantically. 
A man, broad and rugged, stands with a knee popped out and a curious expression. He’s armed with a hunting rifle pointed at the ground, but hands at the ready if he needed to fire it. 
His intimidating stature has you shrinking back a little. 
“Just, uh, just getting my bearings, that’s all.” You stutter out, not entirely sure you should trust a stranger in the woods with your current circumstance. You are very unequipped and very alone. Not a winning combination for anyone but a psycho. 
But he looks just like a normal guy. Your average hunter-gatherer type in his sturdy jeans, thick flannel, and beaten-to-hell steel-toe boots. 
“Well,” He says, using the low-aimed barrel of his rifle to gesture a sweeping semi-circle around the forest, “I’m pretty damn familiar with these parts. ‘Fact, I got a cabin a little ways back. Got a radio in it. Could call for a ranger to guide you back. Probably a shorter walk than tryin’ to find your campin’ spot blind.”
“Oh, I really appreciate the offer, but I think I just need to—”
“Only gonna get yourself more lost, darlin’. Know for a fact you ain’t gonna get any reception out here. You don’t got no compass, no supplies,” His eyes sweep up and down your figure, “Not the most practically dressed, neither.”
You shuffle your feet, looking down at your graphic tee and biking shorts. Maybe not the best wardrobe for being stranded in the woods, but you were wearing tennis shoes and hiking socks. 
“How’s about you come on back to my cabin and we’ll get you fixed up,” He invites, taking a few steps toward you. 
You take a half step back and he stills in response. 
You turn your head to look behind you, then back at the man. “Mister, I’m sure you’re a nice guy and all, but I really think I can figure out—”
He advances toward you, shaking his head with an odd expression on his face—frustration? When he gets close enough he holds a hand out to you, schooling his face into one that’s more controlled. 
“Don’t be stubborn with me, now. Let’s just get you where you need to be goin’.” He levels you with an expectant look and emphasizes his outstretched hand. 
You eye it anxiously but ultimately take it. His grip is warm, callused, and sturdy. He leads you resolutely in a specific direction, tugging you along when you fail to keep up properly. The deeper into the trees he takes you, the louder the alarm bells chime in your head. 
When you can’t dismiss them anymore, you dig your heels into the dirt, yanking the two of you to a stop. The man’s head whips around at you with that same weird look on his face from before. 
“I’m sorry, I really think I need to just find my own way.”
The man angrily huffs in a tone that heartily reinforces your intuition. “Stop fuckin’ fightin’ with me and—HEY!” He yells after you as you bolt in the opposite direction. 
You don’t think, you just run. 
“Get back here, little rabbit!” He bellows after you, much closer than you expected it to be to your absolute horror. 
In a matter of seconds, the collar of your shirt is hauled back with startling force, choking you before you crash backward onto the forest floor. You shove past the pain surging in the back of your head and scramble to get back on your feet when a large boot slams into your chest and pins you to the ground. The weight behind it has you struggling to breathe, clawing at the obstruction in frenzied desperation. 
“Shouldn’t’ve run, little rabbit,” the man warns a tad too late. You see him shake his head in disappointment as he raises the butt of his rifle. You freeze in terror as it races down toward your head—
And then everything goes black. 
Your surroundings fade back in incrementally, battling head-on with the splitting headache burgeoning in your skull. Your drooping head lifts to find both of your hands cuffed to durable but weathered iron hoops embedded in the wall. Your mouth absorbs your drool as rapidly as it’s produced from the cloth shoved into it. You can taste a tang on the fabric—the taste of you, you recognize with a twinge of horror. Your panties. Secured in your mouth and prevented from expulsion by a thick rope knotted at the back of your head. 
And you’re naked. 
Seated on the filthy, unforgiving floorboards and bound to the walls of a dismal log cabin, furnished with scarcity. A splintered wooden dining table with a hunting rifle strewn atop it. Two spindly chairs. A lumpy floral upholstered couch that has seen much better days positioned in front of a squat coffee table littered with newspapers and empty beer cans. 
An ill-kempt kitchenette adorns one end of the space, a blood-encrusted butcher’s knife lying carelessly on the counter with a red-stained tea towel and various other sinister-looking paraphernalia. 
And then there’s that man. Back resting against the front door with his arms across his chest, sizing you up. 
“Afternoon,” He grunts. 
The panic sets in and you yank uselessly at your bonds, screaming against your gag, propping your bare feet under you in a feeble attempt at leverage. 
The man laughs, pushing himself off the door and strolling lazily toward you. “Don’t tire yourself out, now. I like ‘em a little fiery. Struggle too much and the flame tends to peter out right quick.” 
You ignore him, poised in a crouch and pulling all your weight forward with a muted grunt, praying the rusted tethers choose right now to give out. 
“Gonna pull those arms right out their sockets, little rabbit. Ain’t gonna do you a lick’a good, I assure ya.” 
The unbothered tenor of his voice and the amused expression on his face persuades you that he’s probably right. You crumble back against the wall, hands hanging limp in the air at the wrists and your feet out in front—just in case you’re presented with an opportunity to get a good kick in. What you would do after that you have no idea, but you have to do something. 
“That’s better,” The man placates, dropping into a crouch just out of your reach. “I’d say don’t get your panties in a twist, but…guess I already did that for ya, didn’t I?” He laughs to himself at his little joke, stroking his bottom lip with a meaty thumb. “My god, you’re a beautiful thing, aren’t ya?”
You meet him with a glare, jaw shifting uncomfortably as it begins to ache from being stuffed open. 
“You want the gag out?”
For a second you consider being stubborn, but decide it won’t get you anywhere. So you give a single nod. 
“Alright, but let me be real fuckin’ clear,” he says, reaching behind him to pull a small revolver from his waistband and brandishing it haphazardly as he gesticulates with his hands. “If you scream, you die. Point blank. But if you behave for me, all nice and pretty-like, you may just walk out of this alive. And on two intact feet, even.” He weighs those words for a moment, scratching at the side of his head with the muzzle of the gun, before amending, “Well…maybe mostly intact. Guess it depends on how good y’are for me.”
A small whimper escapes you at the implication. 
“We clear?” He asks with raised brows. “Scream, die. Quiet, live. Can’t be more simple’n that.”
His words illuminate a tiny crawl space in your brain, a single phrase you’d heard once before: Calm people live; panicked people die. 
You focus on your breathing, taking one large inhale in, then out through your nose. You look him straight in the eyes and nod your understanding. 
He shifts closer to you onto one knee. You feel the cool metal of his revolver at your temple and the click of the safety disengaging as he reminds you one more time, “Don’t scream, little rabbit.” 
You give him the gentlest, briefest of nods, pleading with your eyes.
He finagles a butterfly knife between the fabric of your underwear and the rope, oriented so one edge of the blade rests against the restraint and the other edge kisses your lips with a soft, yet alarming sharpness. He saws through the rope swiftly, only just shy of slicing your plump, tender lips by the forward tilt of the knife. The severed rope thumps to the ground and he tentatively slips the makeshift gag from your parched mouth. 
When you remain dutifully silent for what he deems a suitable amount of time, the gun uncocks and withdraws as he secures it again at the back of his jeans. Your eyes track his movements as he handles your saliva-damp panties, twisting and wrapping them tight around his wrist through the holes like some sadistic bracelet—like a trophy of his conquest. 
You will not die another conquest. Another trophy. 
You will make it out of this. 
No matter what his demands. 
“Very good. Obedient little thing. That bodes well for you,” The man muses. Using the flat of his knife he tilts up your chin, the point of it dimpling the supple skin there. You don’t feel any blood pooling quite yet, but you know the threat of it looms by his own design. “Now, tell me, what were you doin’ out there in the wilderness all by your lonesome?”
Calm. Don’t panic. Think. 
“I’m not by myself,” You assert, cramming every iota of even-keeled sincerity you can muster into your words. “I’m with my family.”
He nods with a hint of skepticism on his face. “Are ya now? Because I can’t recall seein’ nobody else at that cute little campsite of yours.”
Your heart drops into your stomach. “You…you’ve been watching me?”
He smirks, reveling in the fear exuded in your eyes. “Couldn’t help myself. Beautiful thing like you. Took one look and knew I had to have ya, little rabbit.”
“They’re gonna come looking for me,” You spout with wavering confidence. 
The man's smile broadens mockingly. “No, they’re not. No one is. And we both know it.”
“Mister,” You whimper helplessly, “Please let me go.”
The man’s eyes dip to his knife as he scrapes it featherlight on the underside of your chin, stopping when you’re precariously balanced on the tip. Your bottom lip quivers as you force your chin to remain upwards, to not sink back down onto it and accidentally impale yourself. 
“Call me Joel,” The man offers conversationally. “Feels a bit more…personal. Don’t you think?”
“J-J-Joel,” You whisper breathily, “Please let me go. I won’t tell anyone about this.”
He cocks his head as if in thought. “Hmm. I don’t know. Haven’t proven yourself very useful to me yet. Not really any reason to just let ya hop on back into the woods.”
“W-what can I do?” You swallow nervously. “I’ll do what you want. Just please don’t hurt me.”
Joel chuckles, bearing upward on the knife just enough to gather a pearl of blood on the tip and then gliding the blade onto his tongue obscenely, the vibrant liquid spiderwebbing through the crevices of his tastebuds. 
He licks his lips, smearing your diluted blood across the upper one and then sucking it clean in his mouth again. 
He leans forward, and you feel his breath wash over your face as he orders you with a slight smirk, “Alright. Beg.”
You do everything within your power to keep even a single tear from falling. 
“Please. Please, Joel. Please, don’t hurt me.”
Joel’s gaze grows darker as he takes in the full expanse of your body at his mercy. “What are you willin’ to trade for that, little rabbit?”
A lump forms in your throat as you come to terms with what he’s suggesting. In the back of your mind, you knew exactly what he’d wanted with you when you woke up naked. You haven’t had adequate time to parse out all the possibilities of what he could have already done with you unconscious. He could have done any number of things with your body. Everything seems okay between your legs from what you can feel, but you would never be able to tell without a doubt.
You quickly sift through your options as well as you can. You already tried to fight the restraints, and that was a complete bust. It’s not like a kidnapper would be lax about that–the restraint is the most vital part of an abduction. You highly doubt you could knock him out, and even if you did, there is no guarantee he even has the keys on him. 
Not to mention you are in the middle of fucking nowhere, with no way to find your way back. You haven’t spotted any sort of radio device in the cabin yet, so he was likely lying about that, just like he was about everything else. If you were going to escape, you’d have to think of a plan over a more prolonged period of time.
As horrendous a thought as it is, getting him on your side might be the best option. And what better way to get a man on your side than…
You take a deep breath of resignation. With delicate, careful movements, you slowly bend your knees up and spread your feet out. 
A hungry groan rumbles in Joel’s chest as he takes in the sight you’re willingly presenting. “Such a pretty little flower you got there, little rabbit. Almost went ahead and just took it while you were out cold.”
That unspoken fear that he may have already indulged himself in your body starts to ebb away reluctantly. Logically, you know what you’re offering him really isn’t much better in the grand scheme. Neither option is strictly consensual. But you think you’d rather know. Rather see what he’s doing with you. For you, that’s enough to warrant a smidge of relief. 
You spread wider for him, the folds of your cunt parting open almost in welcome. 
“Fuck,” He breathes, wetting his lips. “Them petals just blossomin’ right open for me, aren’t they, little rabbit?”
“Yes, Joel,” You utter shakily, wordlessly begging your insides to cooperate with your intentions despite the terror running rampant through them. You urge yourself to try and look past the man Joel is presenting himself to be. To study his face. His…tragically handsome face. A face that in any other context would’ve had you slick and ready long before now. 
What a sick, twisted shame. 
But it does start to work. You can feel your pussy preparing itself for the impending torture you’re threatening it with. You send a silent prayer to…whatever the fuck is out there. God, Aphrodite, Venus, the universe—it doesn’t fucking matter. 
Joel stows his knife in his back pocket and slips a rough-hewn hand under your knee to maintain your spread for him.
“Naughty fuckin’ girl, gettin’ all soaked at the thought’a me. What a fuckin’ trashy slut. Offerin’ up your whore pussy in exchange for your life.” Joel grabs his revolver and nudges your chin up with it, digging the muzzle into your flesh as he moves his other hand from your leg to grip the back of your head and keep you still. “Your pussy worth it? Hmm? ‘M I gonna see God when I fuck it?”
“Yes,” You whimper desperately, not daring to break eye contact with him as you lose the battle with your tears and one spills over. “It’s worth it.”
Joel leans into you, close enough that you think he might press a kiss to your lips. But he dips down to your ear instead, reinforcing the indentation of the gun under your chin, and whispers, “You best pray it is. Because either way, I’m gonna fuck that pretty little flower until it wilts. And then we’ll see what it bought ya.”
His breath puffs suffocatingly over your skin as the gun travels down the column of your neck, caressing down the valley of your breasts. He tweaks your nipples using the curve of the muzzle opening, rousing them to hard points. Once he’s satisfied with his work, he continues his route down over your stomach. Your breathing hitches when the barrel skims your pubic mound and he halts. 
“Are you scared, little rabbit?”
You clear your throat. “No.” 
It comes out much stronger than you actually feel. 
Your blood chills under your flesh as you hear him pull the hammer down on the gun once more to cock it, brushing against your mound again with the movement. Then you hear Joel’s taunting lilt in your ear, “How about now?”
Okay, you think. He wants you scared. Good to know.
Pretending not to be terrified was exhausting your already low emotional tank anyway. 
“Y-y-yes, Joel. I’m fucking scared.”
He exhales a laugh through his nose as he prods the gun at the top of your outer lips. “Stupid cunt bitches like you are always so much tighter when you’re scared. More scared you are, the tighter you get. Scare ya enough, it’s like a fuckin’ vice around your cock. Ain’t nothin’ else like it.”
“I’ll be so tight, Joel,” you promise as another tear breaks free. “So fucking tight for you.”
Joel hums as the metal slides between your folds and he works it up and down with your manifested wetness. “Look at the way those lips hug my gun. So hungry for it.”
You shiver as the metal gradually warms with your own body heat, like it’s leaching it out of you. Your teeth begin to chatter uncontrollably, and you try to grit them in response. The slick weapon starts to move in tight circles on your clit, teasing you in a way that you can’t resist whining over, the danger of the act going foggy in your brain. The gun travels further south, nudging at your entrance with ominous promise.
“Should I fuck you with it, little rabbit? Should I make this little cunt eat my gun? Make you cream all over the bullets inside?”
A sob filters through your teeth as reality sets back in. He is pleasuring you with a loaded fucking gun. One misstep and you’re a fucking goner. Joel appears to be intimately familiar with this firearm, so you doubt anything he does will be an accident. But this man would not spare you a second thought if his finger slipped. He’d probably just unload into your corpse. Both his cum and his bullets. The thought has you in a full-body shiver. So you beg, “I need your cock, please, Joel. Don’t wanna wait.”
He breathes another laugh. “Yeah? Sounds more like you’re just tryin’ to save your own ass by kissin’ mine.”
You shake your head emphatically as you shudder. “No, no, I’m not. I just want you.”
“Well, lucky for you,” Joel mutters, pressing the muzzle flush to your opening, “I consider my gun to be a part of me.”
With a damning final push, the barrel breaches your hole, and a pained whimper slips out of you. 
His teeth scrape your earlobe as he works his weapon inside you with agonizing thrusts. “Little cunt looks so fucking pretty wrapped around my piece. Loves the way I fuck it, don’t it?”
You allow your mind to drift away as best it can to minimize the fear coursing through you. You refrain from any sudden movements, languidly turning your head to bite into your upheld arm for some kind of grounding stimulus. 
“Shit, you can barely take it, can you? I can feel this little pussy purrin’.” He pulls the gun out of you with a lewd squelch and rubs circles with it around your clit. Your hips buck into it with a groan and he chuckles. “Jesus, that's pretty. ‘F I gave a fuck about you, I could make you come all over it easy. So responsive.”
He enters you again with an increased pace and your head falls against the wall behind you with a pitiful moan. 
“Yeah, fuckin’ take it. Squeeze that run-through whore cunt around my gun.” 
You might actually squeeze around it if you weren’t acutely aware of the threat, of any rogue move setting it off inside you. The good news is it would be over fast. The bad news…well, you would be over. 
And there’s so much fucking more that you want to do. 
So if some deranged psychopath is offering you life for taking his loaded gun up your pussy, you’re gonna shut the fuck up and take it. But you’re not about to tempt fate any further. 
“Oh, fuck, look at that,” Joel groans, gazing down at the barrel disappearing into your hole and reappearing with more graphic, pearly white smears on every withdrawal. “Knew you’d cream all over this fuckin’ gun for me. A true whore’ll cream over any fuckin’ thing you shove inside her.”
You clench your eyes shut as a wave of shame splashes over you. Your body reacting this way is mortifying. You do feel like a whore, bargaining with your pussy. But what’s worse is your pussy actually enjoying it. 
“Fuck it, I gotta get my cock wet with that nasty little cunt,” He growls. Any chance at relief is short-lived when he pulls the glistening metal from your dripping hole and jams it against your lips. “Suck it off. Can’t have your whore juice all over my best gun.”
You whine as you reluctantly part your lips. He watches in lust as the barrel slides into your mouth and you close your lips around it. 
“Suck it like a cock, little rabbit.”
More tears track your cheeks as you bob your head, sucking your slick off the foreboding steel. His lips curl in a snarl as he rams it in and out, gagging you with it. Joel scoffs in ridicule at your reaction, muttering something about “the whore needing more practice.”
You feel like you truly could cry in gratitude as Joel extracts the gun and uncocks it, tossing it just out of your reach. He pulls his knife out of his back pocket and holds it in his teeth as he shucks off his pants and boxers. 
When his cock springs free, you instantly assess that it’s a perfect reflection of him—hardened, angry, imposing, and large. 
You say another prayer for your pussy. 
“Let’s see what this little fuckhole can do for me, huh?” Joel seats himself on the floor and maneuvers you until you’re straddling his lap, trembling legs hovering you over his cock with your sore arms still secure to the wall. 
In a Hail Mary, you beg again, “Joel…could you please…my arms…”
Joel narrows his eyes at you with a warning. “I’m not fuckin’ stupid, you little bitch. Do not mistake my generosity for a lack of perception.” 
Yeah. Okay. That was never going to work. 
Joel points a dirty finger at you. “And you make no mistake, I am bein’ mighty generous with you. ‘F you weren’t so pretty, you’d be slit open stem to stern on that fuckin’ table back there right now,” he says, gesturing to the dining table behind you. 
Your eyes bulge in terror as bile rises in your throat, gaze flitting over to the crusty knife on the counter, undoubtedly painted with his previous victim. 
“Oh, not with that one, little rabbit,” Joel interjects when he follows your gaze. “That one’s for…disposal. No, this one's for cuttin’.” He flicks open the knife in his hand. The spotless blade catches in the cracks of light through the boarded-up windows as he rotates it for your viewing. 
“This here’s Alice. I think the two of you have met,” He drawls, dragging the flat of “Alice” against your cheek. 
“Yeah,” you gulp, staying stock still under his ministrations, “we’ve met.”
“Now, Alice is pretty well-behaved when I ask her to be. You gonna give her any more reason not to behave so well?”
“No, Joel. You have been very generous. You…you deserve this pussy,” you insist, lowering your hips to grind your cunt along the length of his hard cock that’s dripping precome onto his beer belly where his flannel has rucked up. 
“Mmm, that certainly is a wet little cunt, isn’t it? You’re not just a rabbit, you’re a goddamn playboy bunny. Throwin’ yourself at me like I’m gonna fuck solid gold up your greedy whore pussy.”
You allow a gratuitous moan to grace your lips as you continue to roll your hips onto him. 
“Jesus, you know how to work a cock, don’t you, bunny? Not sure you’re gonna be tight enough for me with all the dick you’ve taken. Probably slip right out.”
“I’m tight, I promise, Joel,” You moan out for him. “Put it in and you’ll see. So tight for you.”
That was the wrong thing to say.
Joel’s knife whips around, lining up with your jugular, and you freeze. 
“Are you under the impression that you’re callin’ the shots here, little rabbit? Because you do not fuckin’ tell me what to do. And the next time you do…” Joel contorts his face into a concentrated show of rage and jerks the knife across your neck, a hair's breadth away from your actual skin. A terrified squeak bursts forth from your–thankfully still intact–throat in reflex, the sound dying out with a quiver when you realize you’re still…alive. 
“I’m sorry,” you mouth at him, voice losing all projection from the flicker of terror. “I won’t.”
Leaving you no room to recover, Joel is positioning his cock at your hole and plunging inside with a feral grunt. “Fuck yeah, so fuckin’ tight. I can feel that fear gripping my cock, little rabbit. Mmm. Fuckin’ terrified little slut.”
His cock is fucking unfathomable. You’re pretty sure you go almost numb the second he splits you open and starts pounding into you. You cut off your own scream, clamping your mouth shut as you struggle to keep quiet. 
The hand still gripping the handle of his knife snatches at your jaw, squeezing the flesh of your cheeks in his fingers until your mouth pops open. “No, you fuckin’ scream for me, bunny. You tell me how hard I’m ripping apart this cunt.”
“You—you said…” You garble out through your deformed lips. 
Joel thrusts up into you punishingly, drawing a scream from you. “I just don’t like those high-pitched screeches all you pathetic fuckin’ bitches make when you’re cryin’ for help. Sure as hell ain’t ‘cause anyone’ll hear ya.” Joel slams into you again and tightens his grip on your jaw, the blade of his knife burrowing into your cheek with the strength behind it. “Cause, trust me. Ain’t nobody hearin’ you scream all the way out here, little rabbit. You’re mine. ‘Til I say I’m done with you.”
And then he’s jackhammering up into your pussy with a firm hold still on your face, snarling and grunting as he completely obliterates you from the inside. Warm blood trickles down your cheek and over Joel’s fingers as you moan and yell for him, peppering his name within your cries to try and win whatever you can with it. He seems to like it, his name tearing out through your throat as he defiles you. 
Joel’s knife clatters to the floor as he buries his filthy nails of both hands into your hips, pulling you down onto his cock as he fucks up into you. “Useless fuckin’ whore. Only good for takin’ this cock. Maybe I’ll just leave you tied up, fuck you ‘til your tight snatch is all stretched out and used up and fuckin’ worthless, then throw you to the wolves.”
And as fucked up as it sounds, that’s almost a glimmer of hope. That might be your best-case scenario at this point. Broken, used, abused…but still fucking alive. 
So you let out a whine like that’s what you want. Like your deepest desire is for him to violate your holes until he’s through with you. And pray, pray to what the fuck ever, that he leaves you to the wolves. 
If you’re good for him, maybe he’ll even give you a knife. 
Your wanton cry has him stuttering and swearing as he hammers you with his cock until he’s growling his release, spilling himself deep inside of you for the first time instead of forcing you to spill yourself out for him. 
Your blood is still drying on his knuckles, on your skin, as he pulls out. His spend chases after him, pooling onto his crotch. The back of his head hits the dirty wood floor with a heavy sigh as he strokes his bloody fingers along your thigh. 
“I really just might keep you, little rabbit. Been gettin’ a little lonely out here. Be nice to have a warm cum dumpster at home that I don’t gotta go huntin’ for.”
“I could…” You mutter softly, a fresh puddle of said substance running out of your fucked hole, “I could be that. I could be a good…cum dumpster for you.”
He lifts his head to study you. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Until you’re…you’re done with me. Then maybe you just…don’t kill me? That’s all I ask, I’ll do whatever the fuck you want. Just…don’t kill me.” 
“Hmm,” Joel ponders as he retrieves his knife and flicks it open and closed cyclically. “You gonna let me wear out these holes of yours and not complain? Not fight?”
“Yes.”
He purses his lips for a second and then nods, manhandling you off of him while he stands and pulls his clothes on, not even bothering to wipe off the mess you made of his abdomen. 
Once dressed, he just stands there with a propped knee and his hands on his hips, scanning over you probingly. Finally, he grumbles, “I’ll think about it.”
He swipes his gun off the floor and delivers a firm but forgiving couple of smacks to your marred cheek with the barrel, in a way that’s almost…affectionate? He tugs your panties from his wrist and shoves them back into your mouth, making practiced work of knotting a new length of rope back around your head to secure the gag. This time, he ties your ankles together too for good measure. 
He leaves you naked, gagged, and bound. Just as you awoke to find yourself anywhere from thirty minutes to a lifetime ago. He swings a worn canvas satchel onto his back from its place slumped by the doorway along with his rifle from the table. Before he slams the cabin door behind him, he winks at you over his shoulder.  
“Don’t hop off nowhere, little rabbit.”
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hecateslore · 2 months
Text
💌
hi childreennn mother had to jot this down while my brain was still going from earlier plz enjoy more supervisor!simon
Wednesday strolled in with ease. You and Simon avoided each other all day on tuesday. You knew you were really pissed when you thought of sending an anonymous complaint to HR. 
It was lunchtime and you sat at your desk headphones in watching your comfort tv show and eating your lunch.  Simon walked out of his with a thick stack of papers. He walked up to your desk, dropped the papers harshly, “Get these done when you’re finished.” he demanded. You looked up with a mouthful of food, “I’m on my break.” you snap back at him. “There’ll be no break after this ever, if these aren’t half finished by the end of the day.” he barked back only to earn looks from the others (we live in a sassy man apocalypse I fear😣.) You roll your eyes, “And if I see your headphones again, that’s another strike.” he finishes. 
It all seemed like too much to behave this way for an office job. You were ready to flip your desk, kick a monitor and slap him in the back of the head. All of the sudden he just became this douche. Not once have you ever given him any problems, have you ever screwed up.
A part of you wanted to ask him what the problem was, so you threw your plate away and went to the bathroom and facetime your best friend.
“Please tell me you sent in a complaint.” Your bestie sighed over the phone. “No I'm scared, online it said your identity might have to be revealed.” You said as you watched your bestfriends face screw up, “Just put in your two weeks, we’re hiring over here,” she suggested , “I’ll see if I can get you a spot, my manager’s really cool.” She gives you a smile. You look at the time and see you have 5 minutes left to chat before you have to get back to work. “I gotta go, but let me know what your manager says.” you bite your cheek, “will do !” she says before hanging up. You let out an exasperated sigh and go back to your desk. 
-
On Thursday you worked the front alone, you were kind of glad because you were out of Simon's sight and you didn’t have to see the problem look so damn good in slacks. You sat and answered calls while listening to some music. It was a pretty peaceful day, not too many people came in so you kind of just sat and waited, you did some crossword puzzles, played some games on your computer, ignoring the get back to work email from Simon. It was lunch time when you and Simon interacted for the first time in a couple of days. You were getting ready to walk to the grocery store in the plaza you worked at (do they have these outside of America? Like shopping malls, or like strip malls?? Plz let me know.). 
“Heading out?” he asked, leaning against the wall near the exit. You rolled your eyes, praying he didn’t notice. “I got to go to the market also, maybe I can keep you company?” he offered. 
“I don’t care.” you mumbled, obviously very bothered by his presence. You grabbed your bag, and headed towards the door, Simon following behind you closely. “What’re you gonna buy?” he asked, “food.” he let out a sigh, “food’s always good.” he said, swinging his arms back and forth. 
Simon felt like a kid who disappointed his mother, he doesn’t know what he did, but it was something that made her angry. In this case, he knew you were angry but you couldn’t still be angry from Monday's quarrel.  
-
When you entered the market you made sure to separate yourself from Simon, you head to the little deli in the back, and got a turkey sandwich (I love turkey sandwiches if anyone cares.) 
Somehow Simon ended up finding you, you two stood next to each other silently watching the elder man thinly slice the meat and place it on the bun. “Looks delicious.” he says, and you say nothing. You prance around the store finding some snacks for your desk, picking up a snickers bar for Linda cause those are her favorites. Simon followed you around like a lost puppy , paying for his stuff after you. You walked out before him and sat at the exact table you sat at when he decided he wanted to be a dick for the first time. 
Simon walked out of the store and found you sitting alone, eating alone, watching people walk around the shopping mall. “Lost ya.” he smiled, his one dimple showing. You looked at him with a blank face. Simon pursed his lips and sat and ate his lunch quickly. 
 “Saw you looking for jobs online.” he broke the silence. “Yup.” you hum, “You’re thinking of quitting?” Simon inquired. “I’m looking at jobs so?” you drawled out earning wide eyes from simon. “You know I can fire you for that.” he takes a sip from his water bottle, “you’d fire a wild bear for shitting in the woods if it worked for you.” You scoffed, in return Simon let out a cackle, and you almost smiled at his natural laugh. “I think I've found a job though. So I'll be out of your hair in no time” Simon smile drops, “who said I wanted you out of my hair?” his brows furrow. 
You smack your lips together, “let’s not be obtuse.” you sigh. 
“You want to quit because of me?” he asked, “If I say yeah, are you gonna speed up the process?” you ribbed. “You really want to quit because of me?” Simon was in disbelief, he seriously couldn’t believe it. Was he too harsh? But that’s how you two were, you’d taunt each other. At least that’s what he thought. “I’m going back.” you say while getting up and throwing your trash.
 Simon sat by himself, “let’s not be obtuse.” kept replaying and replaying. Was it the headphone thing, it was just some dumb gag he did for fun. You even joked about it one time, you said you’d shove an air-pod up his nose. Was it the emails? Simon likes your attention, whether it be good or bad. He likes you, the way you look in your work outfits, he’s a grown man, he can appreciate when someone is good looking. Now he was really starting to tweak out. 
Simon practically sprinted back to the office, you sat at one of the front desks, you looked up at him in the doorway. “Are you really quitting?” your eyes widen, “Simon hush!” you sputtered. 
“Was it something I did,” he asks as he walks towards the desk, “Answer me truthfully.” he demands. “Oh jesus.” you put your head in your hands out of embarrassment. Simon's eyes are on you, you can feel them while you try and bury your head deeper into your palms. “I know you were pissed on monday-” he continues, “Simon leave it alone for fucks sake.” huffing you finally look at him. He nods and walks back into his office, shutting the door avoiding work all day, with you on his mind how could he not?
-
It’s Friday, you’re scheduled to be back at your desk. You walk into the office earlier as always, listening to your music, you notice Simon was sitting on your desk. Confused, you approach him and tap him on his shoulder, “Your ass is on my desk.” Simon hops off quickly, “Sorry.” you eye him suspiciously. 
“I want to talk to you about yesterday.” you groan, “Simon leave it please. That’s all I ask.” you make praying hands pleading, “yesterday you said-”
“UGH Simon please.” you groan even louder than earlier, “you said “If you say yes would I make the process faster” so I am the reason you’re quitting?” you look at him with the most confused face ever. “Are you okay? Genuinely?” 
“Are you quitting because of me?” Simon prodded, “I have to heat up my breakfast.” Soon as you went to walk to the break room, Simon grabbed your wrist softly, his brown eyes looking into yours, 
“Answer me, is it my fault?” 
(well, yes!)
525 notes · View notes
andvys · 9 months
Note
sooo... I saw that your requests are open so maybe something with Henderson!reader who secretly has a crush on Eddie/Steve (you know I love them both so it's your choice here 🤭) and she has a fight with Dustin and this little shrimp (with all the love Dusty-bun) and his big mouth scream in nerves something about said crush and of course Eddie/Steve hears it, happy ending here pretty please 🥹
of course you don't have to write it if you don't like the idea! no pressure here, hope you have an amazing day Andy 🩷
My only angel E.M.
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Warnings: slight angst, mentions of unrequited feelings, mutual pining, happy ending of course, mostly fluff
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Henderson!Reader
Word count: 2.5K
Note: thank you for this request bestie! I loved writing it!
stranger things masterlist
-
You love your brother, you really do but that little shrimp, how Eddie likes to call him, can truly get on your nerves sometimes. You do anything for him, which is probably why he is so insatiable. You always spoiled him, that was probably your first mistake but you love getting him things that he loves so much, whether it’s new comics, books, movies or anything DnD related. A lot of your savings are spent on him, you know it’s not your job to get him all this stuff all the time but he is your little brother and you love seeing that big smile on his face whenever he gets excited about the things you get him. 
You drive him around when Steve is too busy to do it, you cook him lunch and dinner when your mom has no time to do it, you bake things for him and his friends and you let him host movie nights even though you love having the living room to yourself on Friday nights. 
You always say yes to him. 
But not this time. 
“Come on, are you serious?” Dustin exclaims, rolling his eyes at you as he follows you to your locker. 
“Very serious, Dustin!” 
“You can literally do it any other night, y/n!” 
Mike, Will and Lucas are tagging along with him, giving you their best puppy eyes. 
You open your locker, staring into blank space as you take a deep breath before you turn back around to look at the teens. 
“You know what? I’ve been waiting for this night for weeks! Mom is out of town, you were supposed to be at Mike’s place if I remember correctly and I was supposed to have the house to myself!” 
Mike furrows his brows, “why can’t you have your girls night at our place? You can have the basement,” he shrugs. 
“Yeah, the basement is nice!” Will smiles, though he doesn’t look like he wants to be a part of this argument. 
“Yeah, I’m sure Nancy and Robin would be fine with that,” Lucas says, giving you an unsure grin. 
“Exactly!” Dustin rolls his eyes. 
You tilt your head, “why don’t you host your DnD thing in your basement? That’s where you always used to play!” 
Dustin puts his hand on his forehead, “or you can just hang out in your room and we’ll have the living room to ourselves, that way we can all have what we want!”
You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief, “I want the living room, in fact, I want the whole house to myself, for once!” 
Dustin scrunches his face up in confusion, “oh come on, y/n, please!” 
Mike and Lucas nod along, “please, we don’t want any parents around, they aren’t exactly fans of Eddie.” 
Your features soften a little, something that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by your little brother. 
You sigh, crossing your arms over your chest, you shake your head. You, Nancy and Robin have planned your only girls night for weeks, there is no way that you will let any boys interrupt it. 
“Nope.” 
Dustin’s face grows red, he rolls his eyes and throws his hands up, “son of a bitch,” he mumbles to himself, “is it because of your crush on Eddie? Are you scared that you will embarrass yourself when he’s around the way you always do?”
Your jaw drops and your eyes widen as you look at your brother. 
Mike’s eyes widen as well, he opens his mouth to say something but quickly closes it again when he sees the metalhead behind you, his expression mirroring yours. 
Will looks down, feeling sorry for you. 
Lucas cups his mouth, looking like he’s about to burst into laughter. 
Dustin’s face grows pale, regret flickering in his eyes when he sees the shocked and embarrassed look on your face and the surprised one on Eddie’s. 
“What?!” 
That’s the question you ask yourself, internally. That voice did not belong to you though, this is Eddie’s voice. 
Your blood runs cold and your stomach churns. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. Oh, how you wish the ground would just swallow you whole. Your cheeks heat up and embarrassment rushes through you. 
Eddie, whose face is more flustered than ever, steps around you, staring at you with wide eyes, “y/n, is that the truth?” 
You can only imagine what he thinks and what he feels, you spare yourself the embarrassment of being rejected. You don’t look at him, you don’t even bother to answer the question, you slam your locker shut, “host your goddamn campaign, Dustin,” you spit before you walk away without sparing any of them a single look. 
Eddie’s big eyes follow you, watching you walk away with your head hung low. His heart skips a beat, butterflies swirling in his stomach. You have a crush on him? The girl he has been pining for, feels the same? 
“Dustin,” Will mumbles, “how can you embarrass your own sister like that?” He shakes his head. 
“Yeah, dude,” Lucas mumbles.
Mike scratches his head and glances at Eddie who looks awestruck.
“Shit,” Dustin mumbles, closing his eyes. 
Eddie finally turns to look at him, putting his hand on the teen’s shoulder, he looks down at him, “Henderson, is that the truth?” Eddie asks, “your sister has a crush on me– on me?” He points to himself in confusion. 
Mike and Lucas share a look, smirking a little. 
Dustin finally opens his eyes, looking nervously up at his dungeon master, he is unsure of what to say, not wanting to embarrass you any further, he shrugs. 
Lucas sighs, rolling his eyes at his friend, “yes, Eddie. She has a crush on you.” 
Mike nods, “yeah, she was actually talking about you with my sister.” 
Eddie looks at them, “really?” 
Dustin squints his eyes, taking in the excited look on Eddie’s face, “wait,” he mumbles, “do you like my sister?” 
Eddie swallows, cheeks growing red.
“Holy shit!” Dustin exclaims as the three teens start smirking at him but before any of them can say anything else, Eddie turns around and runs off just the way you did, leaving them all giggling. 
-
You and Eddie aren’t the closest friends, that is probably because of your huge crush on him. Dustin isn’t wrong, you do tend to embarrass yourself in front of him. 
Whenever he is around, you turn into a blushing mess, you barely manage to form a sentence when he talks to you, all he ever gets are short responses, shy smiles and little waves. The poor guy probably thinks you hate him but he really just makes you incredibly nervous. 
You always had a crush on him, from the first moment you had laid your eyes on him, you had a special place in your heart for the handsome metalhead, not knowing that he feels just the same. 
You never talked much to him, only when you sat next to each other during class or saw him outside of school but you weren’t brave enough to make the move to become his friend or anything more than that. 
When your brother befriended him and he started coming around, stealing your job of driving him around, he always left you a blushing mess. Eddie was always a flirt, throwing random pickup lines at you, gifting you a flower that he picked from your mother’s garden or someone else’s property, holding doors open for you or carrying your books to classes but you never thought much of it, you thought that he’s like that with every girl. 
He is not. 
You fear that, that is over now, that he is weirded out by your crush on him. Thanks to your brother and his big mouth, your day and the rest of your week is ruined. 
All day, you have been avoiding Eddie, trying your best to avoid eye contact. The thought of being confronted and rejected makes you feel both mortified and heartbroken. 
You successfully manage to get through the day without running into him again. Now, you’re alone in your room, sulking, listening to Tears for Fears and glaring at your diary, the one that Dustin must’ve read, how else would he know of your crush and your hopeless feelings for Eddie? 
A knock on your window pulls you out of your thoughts, startling you a little. You throw the ripped out pages on your bed and turn around, eyes widening when you see Eddie who stands in front of your window with a smile on his face, waving at you shyly.
Your heart begins to race, your eyes widen. Nervously, you make your way towards it, he purses his lips, staring at you in excitement. Sliding the window open, you lick your lips and take a deep breath, “h-hi?” You mumble nervously. 
He is not here to reject you is he? 
Eddie smiles and you just now notice the flowers in his hands.
Surely, a guy who is about to reject you, won’t show up with flowers and a smile on his face, right?
“Hello princess,” he grins, looking giddy as he eyes you. 
You blush at the pet name, breaking eye contact, you look down. 
“Can I come in?” 
You nod and step aside to let him in, you dig your nails into your palms, a nervous habit that you have picked up on, years ago. You look down at yourself, growing incredibly flustered when you realize that you’re only wearing a big shirt and underwear. 
He climbs inside and shuts the window before he turns around to face you, he can’t even fight the smile off his face when he sees how nervous you are, “here, these are for you,” he whispers, holding out the flowers for you. 
Your eyes light up, looking up at him, you notice the excitement in his dark eyes, his plump lips are set in a bright smile. 
You reach for the flowers, your fingertips graze his knuckles as you take the flowers from him, “thank you,” you smile, glancing at the pink and yellow flowers, “those are not from mom’s garden,” you giggle. 
Eddie shakes his head, “no, they’re not,” he smiles, “I picked them out just for you, there’s a huge field of flowers close to Lover’s Lake,” he explains. He licks his lips, looking around the room that he has only passed by whenever he came over to pick up Dustin, “maybe I could take you there…. tomorrow? To Lover’s Lake, I mean.” 
Your heart flutters in your chest, excitement bubbling in your stomach. 
“To do what?” You ask, tilting your head, “isn’t that like a popular makeout spot?” 
His eyes widen and he chuckles, “no, according to all the jocks at school, skull rock is a popular makeout spot,” he says, stepping closer to you, he smiles as he watches you smelling the flowers, “but we could always make Lover’s Lake a new makeout spot, just for us, of course.” 
Your eyes widen even more, your cheeks grow incredibly hot. 
Your reaction makes him smirk, a sense of pride rushing through him for being so ‘smooth’. 
You giggle, forgetting all about the embarrassment and the fear you have felt before.
“Just for us?” 
He steps even closer to you, bringing his hand up, he brushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ear, “I wouldn’t want to take any other girl there, sweetheart,” he says, eyes softening, “but you gotta stop running away from me, I’ve been trying to catch you all day.” 
You draw your brows together and look up at him with big eyes, it makes him weak in the knees. 
“Tell me, is that little shrimp telling the truth?” He asks with big and hopeful eyes. 
You blink, your breathing quickens and you grow nervous all over again. 
“If he is, then I’d be the happiest and luckiest man in the world, princess.” 
Your heart leaps to your throat, you can’t believe it. 
“Really?” You breathe. 
He nods with a large smile on his face. 
“If you haven’t noticed, I’m like really obsessed with you,” he admits, cheeks redder than ever. 
“Wait what?” 
He chuckles, shaking his head as he cups your cheek, “I thought, I made it pretty obvious.” 
Not only does Eddie use every opportunity to talk to you, to spend time with you, he also creates DnD characters based on you, he drives around Hawkins, searching for the perfect flowers for you, he picks up Dustin just so he can see you, even if it’s only for one minute, he does anything to see you and to be with you and he explains all that to you, leaving you standing there with a shocked and awestruck look on your face. 
“I-I thought you do that for every girl,” you admit. 
“Never!” Eddie frowns, “I only want one girl,” he says as he reaches for your hand, bringing it up to his lips, he keeps looking into your eyes as he presses a kiss to your knuckles, “I only want you, sweetheart. So, will you take pity on my cynical heart and do me the honor and go on a date with me?” He asks, dramatically and with a teasing look in his eyes. 
Your giggle makes his soul happy.
Eddie is so crazy about you. He loves your beautiful voice, it always makes his heart flutter. He loves your sweet smile. He loves the way you get so flustered whenever he just looks at you. He loves your perfume. He loves the way you make him feel. The way you have always been so good and sweet to him, the way you always make him smile and happy, even on his worst days.
You're his angel.
“I would love to go on a date with you, Eddie Munson,” you smile. 
“Really?” He exclaims happily. 
“Yes!” 
He fist bumps the air before he scoops you up in his arms and twirls you around, giggling at the squeal that leaves your lips as you wrap your arms around his neck, still holding the flowers in your hands. 
“This is the best day of my life,” he whispers when he places you back on the ground, giving you a toothy grin, he can’t even help himself, leaning closer, he kisses your cheek, “can’t believe that your little brother made it the best day.” 
“You should’ve asked me out before,” you whisper. 
“Sweetheart, I didn’t think you were into me, I feel like I’ve been flirting with you for months!” 
“I didn’t think you were flirting!” 
“Wasn’t I obvious?” 
You shrug, “I thought that you were just a flirt!” 
He scoffs, putting his hands on the small of your back, he pulls you tightly against him, “only for you.” 
You smile at him. Raising your hand, you run your fingers through his hair and push it back, reaching for one of the smaller flowers in your little bouquet, you pick it out and tuck the stem behind his ear. 
Eddie chuckles at your action but his heart flutters when you lean in and kiss his cheek. 
“You’re pretty, Eddie.” 
“Yeah?” He asks, blushing. 
You nod. 
“I think you’re prettier,” he whispers, smiling at you, “you’re the prettiest.” 
“No, that’s you.” 
“No, you!” 
Neither of you notice the hushed whispers outside of your door, too busy and focused on each other.
“Oh, they’re so gross already,” Dustin mumbles with a disgusted look on his face. 
Lucas and Mike giggle. 
“I think, they’re super cute,” Will smiles with a happy look on his face. 
“I think Eddie will come over for something other than the campaign this weekend,” Lucas says, wiggling his brows. 
Dustin groans, shaking his head, “ew!” 
3K notes · View notes
borathae · 2 months
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“You and your friends celebrate girl’s night at the penthouse. This however, isn’t an excuse for Jungkook not to receive his welcome home kisses. You won’t complain, he’s your cutie after all.”
Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x f.Reader
Genre: married life!AU, Slice of Life Fluff, casual BDSM
Warnings: just girlies being best friends <3, they talk very freely about kink, she shows off her playroom, mentions of sex work & BDSM events, mommy kink, Kookie being her cute Bunnybaby <3
Wordcount: 2.5k
a/n: i reread the caravan chapter of aaol and in it, Koo mentions that she can bring her girl friends over for girl's night whenever she wants to. so i wrote something about that feat. Koo being a cutie. have fun besties 🤎
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You had your girls over tonight. It has been ages since you last saw them and it couldn’t be any more exciting to have them stay at your place. You call it your Paradis Girls’ Sleepover. Hyejin brings the snacks, Byulyi the drinks, Yongsun is responsible for the face masks and Wheein brings candles. You offer them your guestrooms to sleep in, comfy pajamas to wear and fluffy socks to show off. 
The sleepover started at four. Hyejin and Wheein were the first to arrive. Like always. Yongsun was next and Byulyi came last. You all greeted each other with happy squeals and tight hugs, falling into excited conversation instantly. Your voices overlapped, everyone had something to tell and unsurprisingly, nobody was heard. You giggled about it and then agreed on taking turns telling your stories. 
Yongsun and her now-fiancé are currently trying for a baby and are moving apartments. She stopped working at Paradis four months ago. You knew of the last fact of course because you and the others were her emotional support cheerleader in the group chat during the process. She doesn’t miss the work and says that sex with her partner feels so much better all of a sudden. 
“That’s what I’m always saying. Sex hits so good when you’re only doing it with your love”, you say, snacking on some salted pretzels.
“Yeah I agree, it hits hard. You’re especially lucky though. Kook’s kinky as fuck”, Yongsun says as she sips on her makgeolli.
“Is Shiwon vanilla?” Wheein asks, “that’s news to me.”
“Oh hell no, not vanilla. Just not as kinky as Kook. You guys have a playroom. That’s so hot.”
“Oh, yes right!” you exclaim, clapping into your hands, “Yongsun, do you still wanna tell us more? Because I just remembered that we redid the toy shelves and you didn’t even see them yet.”
“Okay slay. Please show us”, Hyejin says, “unless you still want to talk, Yongsun. We don’t wanna cut your time short.”
“No, I can still talk during the house tour. I need to see the new shelves.” 
“Slay. Let’s do that”, Hyejin says and gets up from the couch.
You and the other girls follow. 
“Did you realise that you’ve started saying slay all the time?” Byulyi asks.
“Yes god so annoying”, Hyejin groans, “I’m watching this streamer and she keeps saying slay all the time. I can’t stop doing it because of her. Last night, I literally told one of my customers slay after we finished”, she whines, making your little group chuckle. 
“Did he say something?”
“Yeah, he asked me what it meant and I had to explain to him. He said that he didn’t get it and then left. Weirdo, it’s not like he wanted to lick cheese sauce outta my belly button before that.”
Wheein cracks up, you and the others laugh as well. You can clearly imagine how weird that customer was. You had so many of those during your time at Paradis.
You chat about the streamer on the way to the playroom. Hyejin tells you that she really likes her streams and that she always watches them in the evening during dinner and her night routine. She then proceeded to gush about this new rice water moisturiser she is trying, which in return made Byulyi think of how she got a new favourite brand of rice. Conversation shifted to Byulyi and her favourite brand of rice and how she thought of so many recipes already. Wheein asked for them and Byulyi gladly shared them. 
You keep the door to the playroom open, turning on the lights.
Your girls gasp and coo in unison, looking around the playroom with sparkling eyes.
“This won’t ever lose its spark”, Yongsun gushes, “it’s so hot. Seriously I’m getting all wet just being here.”
“Totally understand you”, Wheein agrees. 
“Wait till you see the upgraded toy drawers. That’ll make your clits throb”, you tell them, leading them to the drawers with a happy skip in your steps. 
The ladies follow you happily, looking left and right to really take in everything.
“Is that swing new?”Hyejin asks.
“Mhm? That?” you look at the black leather sex swing, “I think you girls haven’t seen it yet, but we’ve had it for like seven months.”
“Slay. Did you use it already?”
“What do you think?” you say and grin mischievously.
“Huge slay.”
Byulyi laughs because of Hyejin, patting her back sisterly. 
“It’s sturdy. Also it gives me a good grip on Kook. I can really go to town on him when he’s in there”, you say.
“I can imagine”, Yongsun says, “pegging in a swing just hits so much harder”
“Yeah definitely”, Wheein agrees.
You nod your head and turn to the drawers, “now look at those drawers.”
You and your girls gather in front of them as you open them and reveal your vibrator collection to them. 
“Woow so cool”, they gasp. 
“Right? Right? Check out the lighting in there. Helloo? We have drawer lights”, you gush, waving your hands around in the drawer.
“That’s genuinely so fucking cool. And the pillowing too. It makes the toys look so expensive”, Byulyi gushes, poking her finger into the velvety pillowing.
“And now check this out”, you say, pushing the drawer closed. It slides closed carefully, slowing down on the last few inches before closing silently, “they have a fucking automatic break in them. Remember the stupid ass drawers in Room 14?”
“They are still getting stuck each time you close them. Trust me, I’m still struggling”, Wheein says.
“I know right. God”, you groan and open the drawer again just to show off its closing mechanism to them, “look at how smooth that is.”
“This is so cool, seriously. Now stop closing the damn drawers I wanna see the collection”, Byulyi says, making you laugh.
“Okay, okay fine. A girl can’t do anything here”, you joke.
Byulyi chuckles deeply, looking into the drawer with a lopsided smirk on her lips.
And so you show them your new toys and give them a few details about how it is to play with them. You show them your pegging dildo collection and Wheein asks about Jungkook’s progress, which you proudly show them. They react in coos and honest praise and you felt so proud of your husband. There is no better feeling in the world than being able to show off with him.
And there are also no better people to do it to than your friends. You share everything about your sex lives. No topic, kink or fetish is taboo. Conversations about them are normal to you and them and part of the bond you share. You honestly think that if you suddenly stopped being so open with each other, the friendship would feel weird. Sex was what brought you five together, it is what you first bonded over as you had to talk shit about weird customers and even now, when two of your little group stopped working at the club, sex will still be a topic keeping you together. After all, there are many kink events where the five of you and your partners go to together. The shared love for kink and fetish is just part of your identities and a big reason why you loved to be friends.
It is obvious how normal kink conversations are in your friendship, when in the middle of you showing off the sturdiness of your flogging post, Byulyi begins talking about her rice again and you all exchange recipes. 
By the time the clock showed eight, Jungkook comes home from work. You and your girls were back in the living room again, but still haven’t started the movie you actually wanted to watch. Conversation was just too good to interrupt it with movies.
Jungkook is a welcome interruption however. You look at the elevator until its doors open and reveal Jungkook in his business attire.
“Hey there!”
“Yuhuu!”
“Welcome home, Kook!” 
“Helloo!”
Your girls greet your husband happily, giving him enthusiastic waves.
His eyes light up instantly.
“Hey there, girls”, he greets them, stepping out of the elevator, “hey, my love”. he tells you.
“Hey, Bunny. How was work?”
“Okay. I’ll just quickly take off my outside clothes and then I’ll be with you, okay?”
“Okay.”
Jungkook disappears in the dressing room for a moment. 
“He worked later today, didn’t he?”
“No, he went for dinner with a friend. I told him to take his time. I’m surprised he’s home already.”
Jungkook reappears again, making his way to you. He looks so handsome in his grey suit that you can’t stop making heart eyes at him.
“___ says that you went for dinner with a friend?” Wheein asks him.
“Yeah, Tae. We had pork ribs. It was so yummy and I ate way too much. My pants are uncomfy now”, he says, tugging on the hem of them to give his tummy a well-deserved break, “I had to drive home with my pants undone”, he says and makes you laugh.
“I understand you so well”, Wheein says, “it’s kinda nice too though. I like being so full with food ‘cause it means that the food was yummy.”
“Yeah definitely.”
“So why are you home already?” Hyejin asks. 
“Actually, funny story. Tae had to hurry home because his daughter suddenly got explosive diarrhea and his wife begged him to help her with it.”
“Eew really?”
“Yeah”, Jungkook laughs, “apparently it went all over the walls?”
“Eeew that’s so nasty eeww”, Hyejin says jokingly, “you sure you wanna get knocked up, unnie?” she teases Yongsun. 
“Haha, very funny.”
“You and Shiwon are trying for a baby?” Jungkook asks.
“Yup, at least we’re trying for one. I can’t say that I’m hating the process.” 
Jungkook laughs, “I can imagine.”
He finally reaches the couch, scanning his eyes over the snacks and drinks.
“Don’t look at the drinks”, Byulyi says, covering the glasses of makgeolli with her hands. 
Jungkook chuckles, “it’s fine. I don’t mind looking at alcohol. You girls enjoy”, he says and closes in on you.
He gets on your lap and hugs you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You hug him back instantly, smiling dreamily.
“Hey, Mommy”, he says. 
“Hey there, Bunny.”
“How was your day?” 
“Good. And yours?”
“Okay. I had too many meetings”, he huffs out air, “so annoying.”
“Gosh, I’m sorry Bunnybaby. But you did it, I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you, Mommy”, he giggles happily, “I thought of you during the meetings.”
“You did?”
He nods his head and lifts it so he gazes into your eyes.
“I also have to fly to Shanghai for two nights. I gotta meet with a few business partners”, he says and pouts.
“When are you leaving?”
“Wednesday. I should be home by Friday night again”, he sacks his shoulders, “I’m sorry. I know this is really last-minute, but I only learned about it today.”
“It’s okay, you didn’t know”, you assure him and squeeze his dainty waist, “gosh Bunny, I’ll miss you so much. Like damn.”
“I know. Me too, Mommy”, he whines and hugs you tightly, “we gotta call each night.”
“Of course we gotta”, you say, making him giggle and lift his head so he could look at you again.
He caresses the sides of your neck, scrunching his nose cutely.
“You’re so pretty, Mommy."
“Mhm, Bunny you’re so cute. Come closer and let Mommy have her kisses.”
Jungkook leans in gladly, kissing you deeply and with his hips squirming on your lap unapologetically. You and he only act this way in front of your girls. No one else in your lives, not even family, knows this side of you. There would simply be too many awkward follow up questions and quite frankly, it was more comfortable to keep this part of your relationship private. But not in front of your girls. They know you for who you truly are. Jungkook was shy about it at first, because he never experienced sharing his kinks with people before. But once he realised that he won’t find judgment with your friends – and he visited enough kink events with you and your friends to know they are just as kinky as you – he began opening up more and more. These days, he is not ashamed of acting like Mommy’s best Bunny in front of them and he is most definitely not ashamed to show how much he likes your kisses. Everyone should know that he is Mommy’s happy Bunny when he gets your kisses.
You break the kiss because you didn’t want it to deepen too much. Jungkook will get horny again and you can’t be with him for at least a few more hours. 
He smiles at you, licking his lips afterwards. You retort the smile, squeezing his hips.
“That was nice”, he says.
“Yeah, it was so nice.”
“I think I’ll go to my room then. I bet you girls have so much to talk about”, he says, looking at the others.
“It’s okay. We don’t mind the distraction”, Byulyi assures him.
“We saw the size you can take these days. That’s impressive”, Wheein adds.
Jungkook’s face is beet red in an instant. He gawks at you with big eyes.
“You showed them?”
“Of course I did. I gotta show off with my Bunny.”
Jungkook blushes even harder, hiding his face in his own hands as cute giggles leave him.
“Mommy, you’re so mean. Don’t show off with that”, he whines, making you and your girls chuckle fondly.
“Mhm no. I’ll keep showing off with my Bunny.”
“God”, he falls against you, hugging you tightly as he giggles, “this is so embarrassing. You’re so mean, Mommy.”
“Sorry Bunny. You know that I’m proud of you, yeah?” you say, patting his butt gently.
“Yeah, I guess. Hmpf so mean”, he says and straightens up. You give him a little smooch on his cheek and then it is already time for Jungkook to get up from your lap. 
He looks at the snacks.
“Mhm snackies. Don’t mind me stealing some”, he says and grabs a handful of salted pretzels. He snacks on them as he leaves the living room, chewing happily, “will you girls stay the night?”
“Yup, we wanna watch a movie later.”
“Uuh movie. Which one?”
“Hereditary.”
“Isn’t that the movie with the car scene?”
“Yeah.”
Jungkook cringes, “well good luck to you girls. ___ showed me the scene and I’m still traumatized”, he says, making your little group laugh.
“Thanks Kook.” 
“I’ll be in the gym if you need me. I gotta work off the calories I ate. Mhm those are good pretzels. Damn”, he says and officially disappears out of sight. 
You release a dreamy sigh.
“He’s so perfect, you guys. I’m so lucky”, you gush. 
“Wah she’s so in love”, Hyejin teases lovingly, making you chuckle.
“I am. It’s getting stronger each day”, you say proudly, sighing adoringly.
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mari-the-bimbo · 1 year
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hi! could you please do something related w/ rich!geto please? idk like being childhood besties with him and how their relationship (meaning from bff to lovers) would blossom after he becomes heir of the company,, have a nice one i love your writing <3
Rich bf! Geto
A/N: STOPPPP this is such a cute idea I love it! 😮‍💨💗 also this finally pushed me out my comfort zone since I’m always writing 20 chapter long slow burns instead of writing it in one 🤣
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You guys became friends when you were 13-14. Awkward teens who spotted each other on the way to school. Geto saw you shoving 2-3 chicken nuggets in your mouth while running to school. It was hilarious in his eyes. To satisfy his curiosity of you, he offered you a ride on his bike, which you easily agreed to, but in return the raven haired boy started to call you ‘chicken nugget’. And since then you were attached to the hip.
You were Geto’s sweetheart, his dearest friend. The slightly strange but sweet girl who he didn’t miss a chance to hang out with, whether it was sneaking your cowardly ass out of class, or giving you a ride home.
And even as you both grew up, and hit puberty, the affection only grew stronger. But now there were butterflies that would grow when your eyes would meet. Or when he’d catch a glimpse of your cute smile, or when your eyes would land on his broad chest when he pulled you for a hug.
Geto always knew he had feelings for his favourite chicken nugget girl, but he didn’t believe he deserves you.
“Bro what do you mean you don’t deserve her? She wants you too bro, trust me” Gojo would reassure him, but that’s because he didn’t understand. Nobody understood how perfect you were, and how he didn’t want to fall short of being perfect for you.
And so at night, while staring at a picture he took with you from a tacky photo booth, he’d promise to make you his girlfriend that day he graduates and takes over his dad’s company. The day he is rich and powerful enough to give you the world.
And so the raven haired man continued life, knowing his ulterior motive. Mastering his degree, shadowing his father at the firm, making connections.
But he’d also watch you continue life too, slightly different to his. He’d scroll through your Instagram, watching your average life with some average nameless men.
It didn’t affect him though, you could post with as many of these basic, nameless men, but he already knew you were each other’s endgame. Till fate brings you back to him, he’ll wait through your phases.
And one day, fate was delivered.
Geto: hey, sorry to hear about your breakup nugget
Your eyes widened like saucers. It’d been a while since you spoke to your first love, Geto. Sometimes you’d imagine if life would be different if you were brave enough to confess to him. You wish you didn’t simply hold hope to the words he uttered the day he moved away for uni.
‘One day, I’ll come back for you’
His voice was so soft, and his smile so sweet, yet it seemed like a distant dream now.
You cant help but laugh at the nickname he kept for you dearly ever since you were kids.
‘Thanks’ you reply casually. Not expecting his following text.
Geto: I’m back in town soon. You free to meet up doll?
At a rooftop cafe, as the sun set, the newly appointed CEO held your hands dearly, whispered sweet nothings and made confessions of love.
And the rest was history.
It wasn’t long until Geto convinced you to move into his penthouse. Holding your hand is he guided you through the luxurious place.
Placing his chin on your shoulder, “this is your home now doll” he says.
Being the girlfriend of the rich heir Geto was peaceful. You’re his pretty angel that he loves to spoil, he never wants you to be sad or deprived of anything, especially since he’s now a millionaire.
He loves taking you to buy luxurious dresses, but he always wants you to wear it again once you’re home. With a tilt of his head and a sly smile, he’ll shamelessly encourage you to change in front of him, eyes like a hawk as he seats himself on a chair watching you undress, softly muttering dirty thoughts, making you flustered as you change.
Even as he completes paperwork at night, you’re seated on his lap. His large hand caressing your thigh, sometimes slipping his hand underneath your silk night dress to make you blush.
He’ll also occasionally look away from the work to appreciate your sleepy face, smiling before encouraging you to sleep on his lap, nudging your head onto his shoulder, kissing and cooing you enough to fall asleep in his warm muscular arms.
“Goodnight angel”
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satoruxx · 9 months
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hey bestie <333
congratulations on 200 followers !! you deserve it and more !! 🫶
im thinking some Gojo fluff inspired by After Last Night by Silk Sonic? I love that whole album and I always get gojo vibes from it 🥹
love you and congrats again ‼️🥰
pairing: gojo satoru x reader | 1.1k words summary: fluff, lots of pining, slightly suggestive due to implied 18+ content, satoru is whipped as he should be, he's just a lil guy pls give him a hug he has sm love he wants to share !! a/n: RAHHH casey this request was sm fun i love this song and it absolutely gives satoru vibes !! anyways ty for being my number one supporter babes. i hope you enjoy this @novasatoru mwah ily <33
satoru considers himself to be rational. even though he can be loud, excessive, dramatic, he has always been rational. most people don’t know or understand all the detailed thought he puts behind every decision he makes. all because of his rationality.
sure, sometimes he can be a little reckless, but not in a way that is irrational. he’s reckless in childish ways, ways that make him seem obnoxious and yet frustratingly endearing.
but he’s not reckless like this. not irrational like this.
satoru’s not reckless so he knows it can’t be possible that you’re here, in his bed, naked skin just barely covered by his sheets. he knows it can’t be possible that you’re here first thing in the morning because there’s no way you went to bed with him the previous night. he knows, for sure, that he couldn’t have crossed all the lines he set with you for years in just a matter of minutes.
but the purpled bruises littering your skin, the scattered clothing across his bedroom floor, and the warmth of your bare body pressing against him tells him enough.
he’s speechless for a second, mind going haywire as he tries to remember what exactly happened and how he could’ve been so careless. years and years of friendship with you, all changed in a matter of one night.
you were always supposed to be one of his closest friends. sure, he would pay any price to see you smile and sure, he’d gladly take your side over anyone else’s.
and obviously, satoru would destroy the whole world if you so much as batted your eyes at him and said please.
but that’s normal because he is your best friend.
but no where in his plans did he ever think to cross this line. after so many moons of pushing back his less than appropriate thoughts. after wondering how good your lips would taste as you sweetly whispered his name. after all of that, he didn’t think his self control would dissipate like this.
there’s a brief memory of the previous night, tipsy words of confession and sloppy passionate kisses, that sends his mind reeling.
he’s pulling himself out of bed in an instant, slipping his clothes on and hoping they somehow manage to ground him because god, it feels like his head is floating.
he’s choosing to ignore how fantastic his heart feels to see you curled up in his bed like that, hair splayed across his pillows like you’ve always belonged there.
instead satoru steps into his kitchen, snowy bangs resting across his forehead as he tries to figure out what he’s going to say to you when you wake up. honestly he’s a little worried himself. how would you react? would you tell him you made a mistake or would you be angry at him for letting it happen?
truthfully he’s never cared much about other people’s feelings, but yours somehow have the power to impact his whole day.
he figures that he can live with it, if you think it was a mistake. he’d be pathetically heartbroken, he realizes, but your comfort matters most to him. and if all he was destined for in this life was your friendship, he’d never do anything to jeopardize it. it’d be enough for him.
satoru doesn’t even realize he’s made two cups of coffee instead of one.
he steels himself, watching his murky reflection ripple in the mugs, and knowing that he would respect your wishes no matter how much it bothers him. he won’t say anything, because he'd rather silently live with his own idiotic feelings than risk losing you for good.
“morning.”
he almost jumps, unusually startled because only you could catch the man who saw the world through the Six Eyes off guard. any plans he’s made on what to say or how to say it fly straight out the door when he turns to look at you, his throat going dry as he takes you in.
you hair is mussed and your expression is still dazed, a sleepy pout on your face as you rub at your eyes. you blink at him slowly, an inquisitive little expression on your face as you pad over to him and peer at the stove. “you making food?”
he nods wordlessly, still a little breathless because gods above you’re wearing his shirt like it’s yours and his brain is in overdrive. it’s so hard to think, to even breathe, because satoru has wanted this for so long and it’s finally here like it had always been here in the first place. like it’s normal, regular.
“can i have some too, ‘toru? i’m really hungry.”
he has to take a minute to bask in the intimacy of this moment because it’s honestly making his thoughts stutter. “u-uh yeah, ‘course you can.” he’s handing you one of the mugs before he can even comprehend it, and you take it from him gratefully.
he feels oddly parched as he watches you take a sip, looking at him with dewy eyes over the rim, and he waits with bated breath as you open your mouth to speak. “did you sleep okay last night?”
it’s such an innocent question and he’s almost completely sure he shouldn’t be overthinking it like a fool but he knows it in his soul that he’s nothing if not a fool for you. you make every rational thought evaporate from his normally over calculating brain, make his body react without a touch, make his mouth move faster than his thoughts can.
and this time is no different.
“fuck i’m so in love with you.”
you blink up at him, and he’s cursing himself for even opening his mouth, but then you’re grinning up at him like he’s said the most endearing thing ever. “well i should hope so. i’d be pretty bummed if you told me you loved me last night and then woke up and changed your mind.”
satoru’s breath hitches, and he briefly wonders when and how he managed to confess his love for you the previous night, but then he realizes he doesn’t care all that much because you’re smiling at him like he puts the stars in your sky.
which for you, he absolutely would do.
so he does the only thing he feels is right for the moment. he bends down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, heartbeat unusually erratic as he feels you melt into him, before pulling back and giving you a cheeky smile. “i’m not even close to done loving you.”
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