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#why do these boys have so many different names
taylormarieee · 3 days
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Dollar bills and love Billionaire!Miguel O'Hara
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🎶I'ma take her bougie ass to Rodeo and then let her pick up whatever she want. CC, Gucci, hit Bottega, whatever she want She piss me off, somehow she still get whatever she want🎶
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Summary: You were bratty all day, no matter what Miguel tried to do, take you shopping, buy you food, he even bought you puppies, you were still bratty so he decided maybe fucking it out of you would do the trick.
Pairing: Husband!Billionaire!Miguel x Fem!Entrepreneur!reader
Word Count: 3.2k
Warnings: Dom!Miguel, sub!reader, annoyed Miguel, bratty reader, PiV sex, oral(f), rough sex, mentions of arguing, Miguel being considerate, Miguel being slightly mean, degrading kink, praise kink, pussy whipped Miggy, mentions of height difference (reader is 5'7 Miguel is a 6'9 kingggg!), established relationship(there married), kinda angst/sadness, animal awareness(please be kind to animals, there so precious and adorable, especially puppies.)
A/N: I'm in the writing mood lol, ENJOY!
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Miguel was the best husband you honestly could ever ask for. He was kind and so loving and caring. He was the opposite of what you thought about him when you first saw him.
You own your own business called Size Flows. It's a business for making clothes for plus sized people. Many plus sized people don't get to have clothes like that.
They have to fit in clothes that don't define their curves and beauty properly because the clothes are made for skinnier people. So one day when you decided to throw a party for the celebration of your business being a success you didn't expect much.
Yes, you did send flyers out but you didn't think they were going to reach the higher-higher staff and people in the world. So when famous billionaires and Multi-billionaires and millionaires started showing up into your building, you were shocked,
One of those billionaires happened to be, Lord and Behold, Miguel O'Hara. You were intimidated by him for quite some time at the party. He was tall! That was a fact. He also looked annoyed and mean.
Not really engaging in a lot of conversation like the others did. I mean yeah, the party was at night but it wasn't that late and the party didn't go on for too long so people didn't start getting bored of each other in there.
Eventually you decided to make conversation with him because why not (though you did notice most people cowered and scurried away from him when walking by). So when you arrived at his feet it took about 3 looks to finally meet his eyesight.
He was staring down at you with a tight lipped smile and you looked at him with a wide, happy, inviting one. Your signature smile at most, as that's what your assistant Alexandria says.
"Hello! You must be Miguel! I've heard a lot about you and your work and I must say, I'm intrigued to know just a little at how your mind works.
Miguel had a completely different company from yours, obviously. Yours was about clothes, he built his own museum. It was about like history and about Aerodynamics. The museum was impressive and it was large. I'm talking like, really LARGE!
You honestly couldn't help yourself. You visited the museum about 13 times. A couple with your friends who were into that stuff and like twice with your family and other times with your co-workers who wanted to go on their lunch break. You introduced yourself by saying your name or at least trying to before he cut you off.
"I'm very pleased to meet you Miguel, my name is-" you start off.
"I know who you are hermosa. I've seen your face on the cameras at my museum every time you go." He says.
Your eyes widen. You were so shocked by the cameras bit you didn't even register the intimate name he gave you. 'He's in charge of the cameras. And he's seen me over and over again!?' you thought in shock.
"Your honestly probably one of my most frequent visitors besides a bunch of college boys." he says with a polite smile on his face that makes you feel the need to laugh. He chuckles and laughs with you.
"wow, so you're frequent with the cameras huh?" you ask in a playful tone. He chuckles as he takes a sip of his whiskey.
"Yea, if you say so. I like to make sure my museum is safe and the guests are happy." he responds with a seriousness in his tone.
"Well, I mean coming from number one guest, I must say... I'm extremely happy every time I see the front of the building. Just so eager to go inside."
He laughs again and for the first time, you see a twinkle in his eyes. You guys talk for the rest of the night to the point you're the only two left in the building.
He kindly walks you to your car, which you were forever grateful for and that night ended and more frequent ones with him in it began until you two finally got married.
You were more happy in your life now than you have ever been before. You have the hottest man in the world to wake up to every morning and to say goodnight to every night.
That was three years ago and now, your here dragging Miguel everywhere, looking and searching for stuff you don't need.
Miguel was pissed at you because you were being a bit bratty today. You weren't satisfied and you constantly gave him attitude and sass. He was slowly loosing his patience and his temper the more and more bratty you got.
It got to the point he yelled at you and told you to get in the car both of you arguing for a good 20 minutes on why you were being so bratty and why he was being so annoying and grumpy.
He took you to a pet store. He bought you a tiny little bedazzled blue collar and then told you, "Pick." he said just standing in front of the dog pen with a bunch of puppies running around your legs.
"w-what?" you ask quietly, some forms of your attitude gone. "Pick. One." he says sternly with his jaw clenched. You feel slight fear but get filled with excitement when you see the two puppies you've been wanting forever!
A Corgi and a Yorkshire terrier! They were the cutest puppies to you, well that's a lie, you wanted every puppy in this store but it's not that Miguel wouldn't buy them all, it's the responsibility and care you have to have for them.
The hours you work make it difficult to buy every single one. "Miggy," you start, batting your eyelashes at him, "Can I get them all?" you ask.
There were like 15 dogs in here and you wanted every single one. "mami, no. You can get 2." he negotiates. You pout and your bratty attitude comes back.
"no! I want them all! If not then how about like 8?" you argue the amount with him. He rolls his eyes, once filled with sincerity and love now filled with anger and annoyance.
He usually wasn't annoyed with you when you got like this sometimes but he had a really bad day a work and you arguing with him didn't make it any better.
"No, two. No more negotiating mama." he says as calmly as he can because the last thing he wanted was you flinching and crying at his temper and how scary he got.
He did that once and the last time he did it, you didn't utter a proper word to him face to face for a month. He made you so scared and for a second when he raised his hand you flinched.
You genuinely thought he was going to hit you. He immediately stopped raising his voice at you after that. You allow it sometimes when you're arguing but you don't raise your voice at him that much because you know his temper and his patience.
"ok, how about 4? is that ok??!" you ask with those puppy dog eyes and that cute little pout he loves to see in different circumstances if you know what I mean.
"ok mama, and that's it." You get 4 collars for their genders one pink, one red, one green, and one violet. You got a Dachshund, a Yorkshire terrier, and a French bulldog and a Shih Tzu.
-The Dachshund was a boy and you named him lucky. (he got the red collar.)
-The Shih Tzu was a girl and you named her princess. (she obvi got the pink collar)
-The French bulldog was also a girl and you named her cleo. (she got the purple collar)
-The Yorkshire terrier was the last you chose and he was a boy and you named him stripe. (the name is because he was black and had a brown stripe on his face and he obvi got the green collar)
"That'll be $1,375 sir. And would you like to donate to charity for dogs in need?" she asks with a smile on her face.
"Ok, and yes I would like to donate!" Miguel responds with a smile on his face matching hers.
"Oooo! No Miguel! Can I do it instead? Oh, please hermoso, lemme do it!" you beg you wanted to be part of that cause.
"Ok hermosa, go ahead but lemme pay for the doggy bowls and the food and all the beds and everything else ok?"
"Miguel that means i'll have to buy something! Leave the doggy bowls out, I'll buy them because you'll have to press decline." You explain to him.
"No, I'll pay some to charity and then you pay some." He says smiling glad that your attitude is over.
"If you both don't mind me asking, how much are you donating? I run the charity and I'm just curious." The lady who you now know her name to be Sam, asks.
"Oh I'm paying 500,000 dollars." Miguel says nonchalantly like it's nothing. Her mouth drops.
"And i'm paying 600,000." I add with a smile on my face. Miguel dips his head back down at me and narrows his eyes like it's a competetion.
"Never mind 700,000." he says eyeing me up and down.
"800,000"
"900,000"
"1,000,000" I say finally winning.
"I'll pay 900,00 Sam." Miguel says smiling at her. The lady is crying now and you rush over to hug her.
"Oh poor thing. I have just as much love for dogs as you do. My dog died a couple weeks ago and i've been dying for a new one. That's why we're here so i'm glad we were able to help." You reassure her hugging her.
She mutters a sorry for your loss as she's fighting back tears and you smile feeling tears run down you face as well. Animals were such a big part of life and they brought so many people happiness.
To see the way so many people mistreat animals really crushes your heart. You both pay and walk away with happy smiles and 4 happy puppies with a new home.
You wave to the other employees as they finally realize who you and Miguel were. They asked for pictures and hugs. You gave that to them and then bid them a farewell.
"Thank you Miguel, I really needed this." You say with more tears in your eyes. His face softens and he hugs you and kisses your head. "It's ok baby. I have one more surprise for you at home." He says with a smirk on his face.
You decided to be a tease. The entire car ride you acted bratty and all mad because he wouldn't let you get all the puppies.
You knew exactly what the surprise was so that's why you acted like this. The surprise was sex, you knew it was. That smirk he had on his face in the pet store showed it. He was horny and now frustrated so that only meant one thing...
ROUGH SEX! You loved rough sex with Miguel so much. He would always degrade you and then praise you. He was just so bipolar during sex but whenever you made him real mad and pushed his limits like you are right now,
It always led to hateful, angry sex, well maybe not hateful but really angry, rough sex.
"Get out." He says through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw. Your eye's go wide still keeping up with the act. "No Miguel! This conversation isn't over." You say stubbornly sitting in your seat.
"Fine. Then I'm getting out and I'm going to feed the dogs you're neglecting right now." He says with an eyebrow raised and a shrug.
You gasp and cross your arms over your chest. Your body and the car slightly shakes with Miguels slam to the door.
"what a jerk." You mutter under your breath but sometimes you forget your husband has super hearing and you also have a trunk, that happened to be open...
SMUT INCOMING: MDNI!!!!!
"Hmm love? What was that? Oh. I'm a jerk? mhmm mami, I'll show you a jerk." He says in that sultry smooth voice that had your knees buckling, every. single. time.
You let out a sigh as you watch him go into the house( aka a big ass mansion.) You wait until he goes fully inside. He closes the door but you still wait a little just for good measure.
When you walk in, something pushes you against the wall and Miguels lips are instantly on you roughly. You whimper and he grips your throat.
Your hand rushes to his hand around your throat and he growls biting your bottom lip, drawing it back before letting it spring back to it's original place.
His grip on your neck only tightens as he pushes his crotch against you. He flips you around roughly and your face and front part of your body hits the wall hard, his hand still on your neck.
You moan at the feeling of his crotch pressed against your ass now. "You wanted me to be a jerk right? Your so fucking ungrateful baby but damn are you beautiful." he growls in your ear, clearly fed up with your bratty attitude.
"Guess daddy is gonna have to fuck that attitude out of you huh? ¿Es eso lo que quieres, puta sucia?" He asks you. You loved when he dirty talked to you in spanish, it turned you on so much.
"Mhmm, want you to fuck it outta me papi." you say in return, your voice low and seductive. He grins against your neck before biting it roughly. causing you to. cry. out.
He licks over the bite and you whimper, your legs clenching to find some sort of friction. "Nuh uh mamacita, no trying to please your self. Spread em open baby." He says in a soft voice he didn't have a second ago.
You hesitantly oblige and spread your legs. "Good girl, look at that, mi niña bonita es tan buena para mí." he says proudly.
you smile to yourself before he's picking you up over his shoulder and carrying you up the stairs to your shared bedroom.
"Miggy, i-i'm sorry, I won't be bratty again! I promise." You beg him with pleading eyes when he rests you in the bedroom, on top of the bed as he slowly climbs on top of you.
"No. Don't do that. That's what you said last week, and last month. Every time you beg, I have mercy on you and let it slide, not today baby. Me lo tomarás como una buena chica, ¿verdad?"
"Yes daddy, I'll take it like a good girl for you! I promise, i'm sorry."you respond. His hand trails up. and down your body agonizingly slow and it's making you anxious and needy.
"mhm, daddy, can you fuck me now, please?" you beg. He looks at you and shakes his head.
"No, mi amor. Shut up, and maybe I will." He says roughly. Your eyes start to tear up, not from his words but from his actions.
I mean, I guess you deserve it but he didn't have to be this slow. You stay quiet for the next 20 minutes? you don't even know anymore cuz you lost count.
He finally dips his head, kissing down your stomach, your clothes long gone. He finally reaches where you want him. His warm tongue flat against your soaking cunt.
You let out a relieved sigh, "mhmm thank you thank you thank you miggy." you chant out breathlessly.
his tongue dips inside of you and that alone has you winded. Your breathing his ragged and your hands immediately flying to his hair as you tug on it.
"What'd I say, hmm love? shut up or I stop." He says sternly, your cunt now feeling empty without his tongue. He licked and sucked and prodded at your entrance multiple times.
Soon making you come undone. Your legs closed around his head and you cried out as he licked up every single drop you had, not letting any at all go to waste.
Once he stood back up and met your teary eyes, he smiled. Not a genuine, happy smile, no. It was this smirk that he made when he knew he won, when he knew that he had your little mind wrapped around his finger.
He begins moving the belt to his pants and all you hear is a grunt. You don't even register his cock slipping and sliding through your slick folds.
"Joder mi amor, te sientes tan apretado a mi alrededor." he moans out as he slides his cock into your entrance. You feel so tight around him. Like virgin tight.
"Gonna beat this pussy real nice baby, No quiero que camines por el resto del fin de semana. No walking at all mama." He whimpers when your walls clench around him.
He's pounding now. First it was small, slow thrusts to ease you into it but your pussy is just too addicting. Miguel was so lost in your pussy, he doesn't even realize how hard he's pounding in to you.
His pace unrelenting, even after he made you cum for a second time. Your pussy feeling overstimulated and sore but Miguel is too entranced to care, constantly muttering out cure words and how good you feel wrapped around him.
You felt your orgasm coming as your walls fluttered around him again. He groaned at the feeling and roughly thrusted into you yet again.
"This pussy is all mine, such a fucking brat. Now look who's a mess over my cock hmm hermosa? Mierda, eres una jodida puta para mí, cariño." he says aggressively, enunciating his words with his thrusts.
You scream out and chant Miguels name over and over again while your orgasm rushes through you. you claw at his back and pull on his hair. You've left little tiny crescent shapes in his biceps.
He finally cums inside you at the same time and he releases this animalistic, primal groan and you shudder at the sound. You moan when you feel his hot warm load burst inside you.
"Fuck Miguel." you pant out before sleep over comes you. You were so weak and so tired.
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It's a little later in the night, 12:32 to be exact. You look at the clock and then look behind you to find a sleep Miguel with his arm under your head and the other keeping you close resting on your stomach.
You turn until your face is in his chest. You had Miguels shirt on and underwear. He's so sweet, he must've cleaned you up when you passed out.
Your hands run through his hair lightly and you smile at his resting face. You kiss his face, then his nose, then his lips and the his neck.
You loved everything about Miguel and you hope he knows it. How tall he was compared to you, how he had such a sweet soul behind that mean facade. Everything about him was drop-dead gorgeous.
If you had the option to relive one memory with Miguel, It would be the first time you met him. So kind and such a gentlemen.
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Taglist: @oharaslover @ribbonprincess @willyoubemycherryy @cherryredstarsreblogs /@cherryredstars @versatilehater @dustbunniess / @evbunnie
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lenixsocial · 2 days
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Watcher (and why nothing matters anymore):
So, in case you've been locked away under a proverbial bridge for a few days, Internet personalities Steven Lim, Ryan Bergara, and Shane Madej (known as Watcher) have elected to begin their own streaming service and ditch YouTube.
On the surface, that mightn't even seem like news at all.
After all, this sort of thing seems to happen all the time: The Try Guys left Buzzfeed to create their own company, Rhett and Link took the dive and diversified into paywalled entertainment a few years back with Mythical Society. Both of which however still rely on YouTube itself to generate views on the main channels, which funnel viewers into a FOMO type situation where "you can't miss" a special airing on the app (Mythical Society) or Patreon (Try Guys).
Watcher, in its infinite wisdom (stupidity, carelessness, unparalleled greed - take your pick) has decided that YouTube is pointless, and has moved ALL their content behind a paywall, claiming that the service was amping up to provide "TV quality programming", leaving only old content and the first episodes of the new shows up on their YouTube page as a subtle tease as to what you could get for $6/month.
It's now quite apparent from reading the comments section of their (now infamous) YouTube video, their official subreddit, and the tag on X that the fans were...not thrilled. The fingers began to be pointed within minutes. Name calling soon after. Then this blossomed into dissertations on why this was a horrible idea.
Then we found out that there was no app. Just a website. So you're paying for website access. Not a full blown streaming service to rival Netflix. Oh, and they don't even have their own servers, the videos are hosted by Vimeo. The deeper the comments section dug, the nastier the attacks got. Steven soon became the whipping boy. His past, his interviews, scanned and mercurially dug up for juicy tidbits (although all anyone gleaned from these was he's rich, was born rich, drives a Tesla in LA, likes fancy food, and has friends whom he values who are racist and possibly sexist and will not sever ties with them).
Then came the cries of incongruity. Shane Madej repeatedly said to "Eat the Rich", and here he was schilling for a platform that cost $6 a month. The cries began to pirate all of the new Watcher content because maybe he was under duress and was secretly telling them to do so. Fact is, I don't know if he was or what, but I'm certain he's under contract and wants his job.
Then came the videos from other internet users analyzing the video, and comparing this to the Try Guys situation with Ned a few months back. Both are disasters, each in unique ways with different players, and such like but here's the vast difference: none of this will even matter in a month.
Let me explain: We are in the total free fall stage of Watcher's Internet Streamer Service. What they do in the next 24-48 hours is crucial. If they revert back to their YouTube channel and apologize, they'll be fine. People will probably poke fun at them, but they'll be forgiven, eventually. But if they don't and they keep on, ignoring the fans, dousing the haters, and make it a month, I doubt we will see any resistance outside of a terse article or two.
Why? The collective memory span in this day and age is extremely short, many have likely already made judgment in their head and have passed said judgment. Therefore, they'll avoid the channel, and the streamer and will be blissfully unaware of any changes. Those who have joined up and paid will remain members, and those who have elected to remain subscribed will likely remain so and will watch the free content until they can afford the $6/month.
The thing is like it or hate it, if they decide to do nothing and ignore the public at large, they most likely will be fine. Maybe they will not have the hugest subscriber base, but people will forget about this. Something else major that is more salacious will spring up in the months ahead. Will there be lingering anger? Sure, but like I said before, these people have already passed judgment so they're already gone.
In an era of "nothing fucking matters" when your choices are sometimes entirely out of your direct control and are (at best) two sides of the same coin, it should be of absolutely no surprise to anyone that there is a fairly good possibility even after all that has transpired that nothing bad will happen. Lest we forget that old adage: "there is no such thing as bad PR".
Personally, I feel $6 is a tad much for a non-app based web streamer with little to no content. It was disingenuous to announce its launch internationally where even more people can't afford it, and some can't even view it. Steven wasn't upfront with who was in charge and now it really does seem like he's using the subscriptions to fund his international gallivanting. It's clear nobody wanted TV-show quality Ghost Files to take place in another country, nor did they want an old show revived with votes when you pay the first month's dues. They say it's a case of Watcher "not reading the room".
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Imagine having deep discussions with the Whitebeard pirates
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Ace: Have you ever wondered why the world government opposes people so far away from them, doing what we do?
Marco: [mutters] I wish you would just stop saying odd shit.
Whitebeard: well we're breaking the law, obviously.
You: It's a little deeper than that. It's because what many pirates do, is the same thing the world government does.
Marco: We are not similar in any way.
You: no, think about it, what does the world government do? They lay out a bunch of rules and if you don't follow them, they use violence to force most of the world into following them. And if a nation elects not to join the world government, or can't afford to join, they raid and pillage those islands and take their citizens as slaves.
Izou: On the other hand, if a nation does join the world government, they have to pay heavenly tributes, because if they don't, the Marines will raid and pillage your country. But if they pay the heavenly tributes, the marines will protect their nation from outsiders, like pirates and non-world-government-nations.
Whitebeard: However, on top of paying the heavenly tribute, the average person also pays local and national taxes, so it's a heavy burden for some countries.
Marco: Oh my gods, it's like a protection racket, that common thugs run, just on a massive scale.
Whitebeard: and, like many pirates.
You: they don't like pirates, for the same reason they don't like common thugs, because you all are muscling in on their turf.
Thatch: so most governments are just organized, and socially acceptable, thuggery.
You: Not all, look at Alabasta for instance, King Cobra has a lot of social programs for his people. Food programs and affordable housing for the poor. Medical programs that put a doctor in every village and a bunch of other stuff. The people should receive something back from their government besides 'protection'.
Ace: I know a lot of nations that are in the world government have a large lower class that they exploit labor from and bleed them dry with taxes, tolls, and fines. I can never forget what I saw at the Grey Terminal out of the Goa Kingdom's Great Gate.
Thatch: That's because in "normal society" they value wealth, and look down on and take advantage of people who don't have it. Meanwhile, in pirate culture, we value strength and look down on and take advantage of those who are weaker, like how we raid other crew's ships because we can, and they can't stop us.
Izou: [sighs] That's an oversimplification If I ever heard one.
Thatch: [steps into Izou's space bubble.] You got something to say to me?
Izou: I've been to both world-government nations and non-world-government nations, and I can tell you that they value both strength and wealth. It's just different classes value one over the other. The upper and more privileged class values wealth, and daintiness because they can hire the strong. While the less privileged value strength, because it helps them survive, because they don't have money.
Thatch: I know that, did you forget I grew up poor as shit, mister little daimyo's vassal-boy.
Izou: And I was a wandering beggar minstrel before that, also keep Oden's name out of your mouth.
Thatch: how about you fucking make me?
Marco: [hops between the two men and dramatically claps his hands together like a clapperboard.] Aaand scene, that was a brilliant performance, gentlemen.
Ace: it was almost hard to tell that you two are actually friends.
Thatch: [huffs] Alright, I'll take it back, I'm sorry Izou.
Izou: I'm sorry too
You: you all are too fighty.
Ace: bitch, you're the most stab happy out of all of us.
You: I am not
Whitebeard: Just last night, you stabbed Vista's hand with a fork because he kept reaching over your plate.
You: ... I did do that, but only after asking him to stop three times. Which is more than reasonable, he's a grown-ass adult, and he, and his fuck ass mustache, should know basic table etiquette by now.
Ace: and then you stabbed me for no reason, with the same fork!
You: that was for good measure, just in case you got any ideas!
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List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon
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hayakawalove · 3 days
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Test of Love (Chapter Three)
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Chapter Three
All Chapters
Summary: After finding out about the connection between the two boys, you find yourself in a world of confusion. At least Gojo is there to help you through it.
A/N: Just to remind everyone, if you like this fic I have tons of other poly satosugu fics too, although they aren't long fics.
CW: Smut, cunnilingus, angst, nipple play, dirty talk, Female Reader, AFAB Reader W/C: 7,062
Credit to @benkeibear for the banner
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“Satoru, you said you wouldn’t be back until 11.” Suguru chides, throwing over his shoulder. 
Satoru. Satoru as in… 
You peek your head around the tall man in front of you, catching sight of Gojo lounging on his couch, long arms spread behind him. A low ringing kicks up in your ears as you tear your eyes away from him, bringing them to look up at Suguru. They must be talking, but you don’t hear it. Your mind is on repeat as you force yourself to connect the dots. 
“You’re asshole?” You feel your lips move. 
Gojo narrows his eyes at you like he isn’t sure what you’re talking about before he glares at Suguru. 
“You haven’t changed my name yet?” He pouts. 
“I think it’s quite fitting, don’t you?” Suguru answers back. 
“And you’re Geto?” You glance up at Suguru. 
He’s wearing a soft smile, eyes pinched up as you work through the moment. 
“That would be me, yeah.” 
However intoxicated you felt earlier in the night was suddenly gone. The reality of the situation seeps in your bones. 
“Oh, you must be the unknown number in her phone.” Gojo looks up towards the ceiling, recalling your earlier conversation. 
“You don’t know what my number is? We’ve been together for years.” 
“There’s never been a need to memorize it!”
“And this is why your name is asshole in my phone.” Suguru shakes his head, ushering you inside before closing the door. 
The two are arguing but it’s hard to hear them over the pounding in your head. They were dating? They seemed so different, but when you were looking at them now you were starting to realize all the similarities. It was in the little things, like how they spoke and how they held themselves. 
Even if the evidence was laid out in front of you, it was still hard to believe it. 
Not only were they dating, but Suguru was a sorcerer. An amazing one. 
“Hold on, you were seeing two guys who were in open relationships, and you didn’t think they were the same?” Gojo asks, his eyes looking over his sunglasses, staring through you. “That’s kind of on you.” 
He wasn’t completely wrong. 
“Shut up Satoru, you didn’t know either.” Suguru says. 
Gojo clicks his tongue, dragging his eyes from you to Suguru. 
“And you did?” 
“I did, but nice try.” 
You furrow your brows and gawk at Suguru. He knew and didn’t tell you? A strike of betrayal shoots through you. You looked like an idiot now, and Suguru knew? 
“For how long?” You find yourself asking. 
“I was never positive. I could sense your cursed energy. Satoru told me about a teacher from school he’s been seeing. Not many teachers our age who are Jujutsu sorcerers.” 
You drag your eyes to the ground, listening to his explanation. There was a chance he could have been wrong, but he had a point, the odds of that were low. 
“How come I can’t see your cursed energy?” You question. 
“Masking it. I usually do when meeting new people. You don’t know what people’s intentions are.” 
There’s a pit in your stomach, and you can’t force yourself to look at either of them. Did you even really know Suguru if he was keeping this from you? 
You felt like a fucking idiot. 
“Here, why don’t I get you some water. Sit down.” Suguru guides you towards the couch, next to Gojo whose eyes follow your every movement. 
Suguru’s palm on your back feels like an iron weight as he moves you. Minutes ago his tongue was down your throat and now you didn’t want him touching you. 
Suguru takes his leave to grab you water, leaving you to sit alone with Gojo. The silence is deafening as you sit next to each other, his eyes on you. You think he must be using his technique to see if he could find any answers in you. He comes up dry. You weren’t sure what you felt. 
“Here.” Suguru’s voice is soft as he stands in front of you, a cool water bottle resting in his hand. 
You reach out for it and crack it open, allowing the cold liquid to flow down your throat. 
“Were you bringing her here to have sex?” Gojo asks. 
You try not to choke on the water but you’re left sputtering. Suguru’s brows are furrowed as he looks at Gojo. 
“Yes, why?” 
“Our bed? I mean, now that I know who it is I don’t care but like really?” 
“We agreed on-“ 
You tighten the cap back on the bottle and look up, forcing your eyes to drag between the two. They were fighting like an old married couple. That sounded about right, considering they’ve been together for a long time. 
“Guys.” You break your silence. 
Both of their eyes fall to you, a mixture of concern on Suguru’s face while Gojo’s shows expectant eyes. 
What do you even say? 
“I’m sorry. Sometimes Satoru and I argue.” Suguru admits, his face pointing downward to look at you. 
You felt so small between their gazes. 
“And I’m sorry for not telling you. I should have. I just didn’t know when to bring it up.” 
The apology does little to quell your anger, but you don’t say anything. 
“Actually, this makes sense. Us seeing the same girl. I mean doesn’t it? Now that we all know, we could just be together.” Gojo says. 
“Or you could be with us separately, I mean that’s more boring I think-“ he continues. 
“Satoru.” 
The way he says Gojo’s name causes a chill to run up your spine. Gojo immediately closes his mouth. You’ve never seen that happen before. Suguru sighs and slides a hand down his face. He sits next to you, caging you in between the two of them. You really felt small. Their broad frames lock you in, leaving you feeling jittery. Silence overtakes the room. 
“What do you wanna do now?” Suguru asks, checking his watch. “You can crash here if you want or I can take you back home. We can figure this all out another time when it’s not so late.” 
You play with the hem of your dress, the same hem Suguru ran his fingers along, while thinking. You didn’t really want to be here any longer, but you also didn’t wanna be home. It was hard to decide which was worse. 
“Take me home.” You notice as the two of them visibly deflate at your words. 
“Okay.” Suguru stands up again, offering you his hand which you don’t take. 
“I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” Gojo says. 
You mumble an agreement before keeping your eyes down as you follow Suguru to the door. He says goodbye to Gojo before opening the door, letting you walk out first.
The apartment building looks much different than it did initially, as you no longer had a heavy cloud of lust over your head. The halls still made you dizzy, but for an entirely different reason. When you get to the bottom floor, you see one of the attendants raise a brow at you, no doubt wondering what had occurred. 
You follow Suguru to his car without speaking, only murmuring a thanks when he opens your car door for you. He did that earlier in the night too, and you found it so sweet. Yet his actions felt somehow disingenuous now that you learned he was hiding a major part about himself. 
You were hiding something as well, but that was because you had no idea who he was. Suguru had no excuse. 
Suguru slides in his seat before starting the car. The air between you is awkward now, with both of your minds racing. He navigates his way easily to your house, as there weren’t as many cars on the street. You don’t speak, but neither does he. What would either of you even say? ‘I'm sorry that I didn’t tell you my boyfriend was the other man you’re seeing. Also I’m a Jujutsu sorcerer.’ ‘It’s okay, it’s fine that you didn’t tell me those things even if they are big parts about who you are.’ It was a strange situation to put it mildly. You rest your head against the window and keep your eyes squeezed shut, hoping this was all a dream. 
The car stops and when your eyes flutter open you see your apartment in front of the car. Suguru makes no move, so you lean forward to get out. 
“Look, I-“ he says, his hand reaching forward to grab your bare leg. He stops short, clenching his fist before flexing his fingers. 
You wished the warmth of his hand would comfort you right now. 
“I really am sorry. I should have told you. I just didn’t know when to bring it up. That’s not an excuse. I’m sorry.” He has the nerve to sound genuine. 
You turn to look up at him and see the worry sketching his face. You hadn’t known him for a long time, but you wanted to believe in his honesty. Suguru waits for you to say something, but you can’t find any words to fix the situation.
“Thank you for taking me home.” You say, opening your car door and slipping out. 
Suguru’s car remains parked until you reach your apartment, only driving away once you’re inside. You knew it was sick, but you wanted them to beg you to stay. You weren’t even sure why. 
When you get inside, you immediately start to strip. Maybe a shower would make you feel better. You stand in front of your bathroom mirror, dragging your eyes across your body. You were right, a bruise was beginning to form on your thigh from where Suguru gripped you. Your eyes glide down to your throat where you see multiple marks caused by his mouth. 
They’re tender to the touch as you slide your hand down your body, reminiscing about the night. You were having so much fun, why did the night have to end like this? 
The water burns your skin as you step inside, but you make no move to adjust the temperature. You were hoping the heat would snap you out, waking you from this dream. It didn’t, making you come to terms that this was really happening. 
When you’re finished with the shower you jump out and throw old pajamas on, before sliding under the covers. 
You dream about tufts of white hair and fox eyes. 
~~~
You don’t talk to Suguru when you wake up in the morning. He doesn’t text you either. You’re sure it’s under the guise of giving you space, but you’re not sure that’s what you want. 
You were conflicted, wanting to pretend like nothing happened while simultaneously also being mad. 
It’s your class’s rotation on standing guard outside to ensure no attacks are made, and so far nothing has happened. You sit next to them, only turning around when it becomes quiet. Yuuta’s leaned against a tree, drool pooling at the corner of his lips while he slept. Maki wasn’t far off either, her head bobbing as she tried to stay awake. They had been out here for the past several hours, so you couldn’t blame them. Even you were beginning to feel tired. You check your phone, noting the time. There were two hours left of the shift, but you couldn’t force yourself to wake them up. They were only kids, even though they had seen more than most adults, and they worked hard. You figured you might as well complete the shift, it wasn’t like you had anything better to do. 
You nudge them awake and tell them to go back to their dorms. Maki tries to argue, but relents after you give her a deadpan stare. You watch as their silhouettes disappear, immediately feeling a sense of loneliness crawl over you. You stretch your arms and legs, and sit against the ground. Looking up you notice it was a clear night, the moon bright as stars filled the sky.
You aren’t sure how much time passes, only the sounds of crickets and wind keeping you company. Your lids are heavy as you try to make yourself stay awake, the slow humming of night life lulling you to sleep. 
“Hey, what’re you doing out here alone?” 
“Jesus- fuck!” You jump and look beside you, seeing Gojo standing next to you. 
You will your heart to calm down before you respond to him. 
“Yaga should put a bell on you.” You flick your eyes back up to him. 
“He tried, I said it was kinky then he promptly took it off.” 
You snort and look back up at the moon. 
“My students were starting to fall asleep so I let them go early.” 
“You look seconds from passing out yourself.” 
He got you there. 
“Are you mad at Suguru?” He questions. 
You sigh and lean back against your hands. It was comforting to have someone else here. Gojo was always a nice person to have around, and it wasn’t just because of his strength. You genuinely liked his presence. 
“He just- wait, how did you know?” 
“I didn’t but you just confirmed it. Although you weren’t really being subtle yesterday.” 
You glance back at Gojo, noting how he appeared under the moonlight. Ethereal wasn’t enough to describe him. The light bounced off his hair, reflecting a white shine that almost hurt to look at. He was in his normal outfit, including the blindfold. You were a bit disappointed, you wanted to see what his eyes looked like under the stars. 
“He just… why didn't he tell us?” Your voice sounds pathetic as you speak, but you aren’t ashamed. 
Gojo sighs and runs a hand through his hair. You watch the strands part for his fingers, and you can’t help but wish it was your palm. 
“I think he just didn’t know when to bring it up. It doesn’t really change anything, does it?” 
When he worded it like that, no, it didn’t. You still couldn’t shake the feeling of betrayal though. 
“I guess not, I just don’t understand.” 
“Suguru’s a good guy. He doesn’t have a malicious bone in his body. He never would have done it to hurt you.” 
The Suguru you knew didn’t seem like the type of person to go out of his way to hurt you. But after the events of yesterday, you weren’t even really sure you knew Suguru. Several days ago you thought he was just a normal guy, only to find out he was not only a sorcerer, but one of the strongest to have ever existed. 
Crickets chirp behind you, and you watch the city lights in front of you. You were at the bottom of the hill of the school, but it was still elevated enough where you could see most of Tokyo, the city lights shimmering beneath you. 
It really didn’t change anything, did it? Knowing the two of them were together didn’t affect how you felt about either of them. If anything, it did make things easier like Gojo said. They probably didn’t think you were stupid either, even though Gojo taunted you. As you think about it, your anger starts to dissipate. You aren’t even sure why you were so mad. Suguru definitely should have said something, but it wasn’t that big of a deal. And you definitely should’ve figured it out yourself. 
“You guys met a while ago, huh?” 
A soft grin breaks across Gojo’s face and you can feel the love radiating off of him. 
“We met in highschool. I was a dick back then. No one understood me. It was kind of hard, I wasn’t used to my curse technique yet so it was lonely.” Gojo takes a moment to think. “It was like I was the only one who could see color, and everyone around me couldn’t.”
You feel your chest tighten at his words. You had never seen him be so open before. 
Gojo lets out a quiet chuckle. 
“But here Suguru comes. And he can see. He can see all the red, blues, and yellows of the world. I didn’t think anyone else would be able to, but he proved that wrong.” 
You can see the affection pouring from his body. 
“And that’s how it was. It was just us two for awhile. The whole world was blind, but that didn’t matter because we could see.”
Gojo looks down at you and you feel exposed. You often felt that way whenever he looked at you. You weren’t sure if it was because of his technique or because he was Gojo, but whenever he looked at you you felt like he could see every secret, every emotion, and every thought you had. 
“Why don’t we get out of here? It’s late.” Gojo shuts the conversation down, but you’re positive he could keep talking about Suguru if you gave him the chance. 
“There’s still time left on my shift.” You look at your phone and see that there’s 15 minutes left. 
As it was so late, other students wouldn’t be replacing you. It was just going to be a handful of other sorcerers who had nothing better to do in the middle of the night.
“They don’t need to know.” Gojo offers a hand to you, and you take it. “Let’s go to my house. Suguru won’t be home and I can get us something to eat.” 
You think about it for a moment. It would be nice to have more alone time with Gojo. When you accept, you see a goofy grin on his face. 
~~~
When the two of you get to his apartment the lights are off. The atmosphere was different compared to yesterday when the three of you occupied the space. You follow behind Gojo and listen as he talks about his day, your eyes lingering around the space. 
It was neat, neater than you would have given him credit for. The inside wasn’t that colorful, but you noticed pops of reds and blues on the couch and on the artwork. It was weird to be inside Gojo’s house, it made him seem more normal. People treat him as if he’s a god, but seeing a glimpse into his life proved to you he wasn’t that much different compared to other people. He still had a living room with shitty decorations, just like everyone else. 
Gojo excuses himself to get changed into more comfortable clothes and you’re left sitting on the couch, the same one you sat on yesterday. Memories flood your mind from the previous night. The way they looked and how you felt next to them. It was stifling, and that wasn’t just because of the tension in the air. Being with the two of them made you nervous. You understood why people were afraid of them, not that you were. They were strong, dignified, and seeing them next to each other only made you realize how hot they truly were. Their differences complimented each other, lights and darks mixing into something tempting. 
Your eyes trail along the couch. It was comfortable and there was no doubt in your mind that Gojo spent a small fortune on it. This whole house probably cost more than you would see in your lifetime. 
“What do you want to drink?” Gojo calls, entering the kitchen. 
“Just water is fine.” 
“Boring.” You hear a crack of a soda can opening. 
Gojo comes back to you with a water bottle in his hand, and a can of soda in his other as he takes a sip from it. He’s wearing a loose shirt with old shorts, the fabric drowning out his normally mouth watering frame. He sits next to you, his knees knocking against yours. The situation feels entirely domestic, as if you always come home at night to sit with him.
“So, have you decided what you want to do yet?” 
You knew what he was talking about. Not much time had passed, but you were thinking about it. You did want to keep seeing them, Suguru included. You just needed to fix things with him first. 
“I want to keep seeing you guys, but I’m not sure if I can at the same time yet. You’re kind of overwhelming.” 
Gojo lets out a good natured laugh and agrees.
“We don’t all have to go out on dates together or have sex together until you’re ready.” 
Now why did he have to put that image in your brain? Thoughts of Gojo and Suguru above you started to cloud your mind, making your throat tighten. 
“I just need to get Suguru in my good graces again.” You murmur. 
“What, and I’m in your good graces?” Gojo asks incredulously. 
“For now. Who knows what you’ll get up to to piss me off.” You crack a smile. 
As you talk with him, you can’t help but think, why did they even want you in the first place? Gojo knew you from school, sure, but that didn’t mean you were special. And you were a complete stranger to Suguru. 
“Hey Gojo?” 
Gojo hums and turns his focus to you. 
“Earlier you said everyone else was blind compared to you and Suguru,” you take a deep breath “what if I’m blind too?” 
Gojo waits until you stop talking before he speaks. 
“I was a kid when I felt that way and an asshole. Although I’m not sure that part has changed. Suguru’s never felt like that. He’s always been good with people, well, he's usually good with people. You must make him nervous.” 
You feel your face heat up and you dart your eyes to the ground, wondering how you could make someone like Suguru nervous. 
“And I haven’t been flirting with you for this long without having my reasons. I like you. Suguru does too.” The revelation makes your chest tighten. It wasn’t a secret, but hearing it out loud made your heart race. 
The way he was talking was almost too sweet. 
When you turn your head to look at him again, you notice he’s more closer than before. His eyes are drawn to you, flicking over your face, and you can see that he’s thinking. Of what, you wonder. Gojo reaches out and plays with a piece of your hair and grins to himself. 
“Plus you’re hot too so that wins you brownie points.” 
You click your tongue and reach out to nudge his chest. He grabs your hand before you can make contact, and laces his fingers through yours. His hand is cold, his long fingers intertwining with yours. His infinity was off. You drag your eyes back up to his, neither of you looking away. The mood of the room shifts as you feel things start to fall into place. 
The two of you had been playing this game for a long time, and it was finally starting to catch up to you. Years of playful banter and stolen glances all leading up to this. 
His eyes drag to your lips where he notices you’re biting the bottom one, a look of desperation beginning to show in your eyes. 
“Suguru left you hanging yesterday, didn’t he?” 
“Mhm.” Your breathing starts to get heavy. 
Technically, he was the one who left you hanging. But you knew that he knew that. In Gojo’s defense, Suguru and you could have continued once you got home. You just didn’t. 
Gojo brings a thumb up to rest on your bottom lip, gently pulling down until your teeth pop off it, the saliva inside your mouth gleaming in the low light. You clench your other hand at your side, close to flying it up to grip him. You can smell the sickly sweet scent coming from his breath, the orange soda lingering on his tastebuds. 
“How mean of him.” Gojo coos at you before leaning in closer to you. 
He replaces his thumb with his lips, pressing his mouth against yours. Your brows furrow as you grip his shirt, holding him close to you as you kiss. This kiss felt so much better than the one at school. Gojo wraps a hand around your waist and lifts you up on his lap. Your hands comb through his white hair, enjoying the way the white strands feel in your fingers. You finally had Gojo all to yourself. There was no school, no curses, no Suguru. 
Just him, and you. 
Gojo nips your bottom lip before gliding his tongue along it, grinning at the noise you let out. Your lips part and his tongue instantly slides inside, tangling with yours. His hands grip your waist, pressing you tight against him. Your hips rock back and forth as you kiss him, a soft panting noise escaping from your throat. The room was burning up, but that doesn’t bother you. 
You can feel his cock start to harden beneath you as you grind against him. It catches on your core and you gasp, pulling your lips back. If Suguru was big, just how big would Gojo be? Gojo looks at you through heavy lids, grinding you against his cock. Your lips are slightly parted as you moan, pressing down harder. If only you could make Gojo as desperate as you were. 
You angle your hips slightly, winning a groan from him. It sounded good, once you heard it you decided you would do anything to hear him make that noise again. 
Gojo stands up and holds you in his arms, walking while he kisses you. He must know the layout of his house extremely well, because he doesn’t open his eyes once. When you do you notice you’re in a bedroom. 
The bed behind you is large but you don’t have time to appreciate it before Gojo is setting you down and hovering over you. There’s a cocky grin on his face and instead of annoying you, it sends a shiver down your spine. 
He looked like he was going to ruin you. 
You reach a hand up and cup his cheek, running your thumb along the smooth skin of his face. He looks startled for a moment before his expression relaxes again, letting you continue to touch him. 
You were touching Gojo. It was a luxury many couldn’t say they had experienced, and most that had touched him, didn’t live to tell the tale. 
Pushing his hair back, you pull him down and press your lips against his. His body grinds against yours as your tongues collide, a symphony built on your moans filling the room. 
Gojo pulls away to start kissing down your neck, his long fingers sliding up your shirt to roam against the skin of your stomach. You arch up into him, holding his shirt tightly, as if that will bring you down to earth. 
He sits up to pull your shirt over the top of your head, throwing it to the side. His eyes rake down your figure and you’ve suddenly never felt so bare before. 
Somehow it felt like you were going too fast, but not fast enough. You had been waiting to do this ever since you locked eyes with him all those years ago. 
Gojo hums and drags his finger along your neck, tracing the sensitive marks that marred your flesh. 
“Wow, Suguru really did a number on you, didn’t he?” He mumbles under his breath before leaning down again, kissing the same spots that Suguru bit into. 
It steals your breath away, the ceiling above you spinning as you feel yourself leak between your legs. Gojo brings his lips down slowly, pressing kisses down your skin as he reaches your chest. His hands roam your body, your skin tingling with each centimeter he covers. 
You’ve noticed two things about Gojo tonight. One, he was sexy. You always knew he was attractive, but he used to just be something that was beautiful and unattainable, like a wild animal. But he was yours tonight, and he was so fucking sexy. Two, being with him felt like you were at the beach. 
No, that wasn’t right. 
Being with him felt like you were wading through the waves of the ocean, the unruly water flicking against your skin. It felt good, but in the blink of an eye it was all consuming, pulling you under only to give you more, more, more. It was getting harder to breathe around Gojo, he was all consuming, his presence demanded your attention. Even though it felt like you were drowning, you decided to let yourself sink. 
Gojo’s large hands slide beneath your body, unclasping your bra before pulling it off. There’s fire under your skin as you watch his eyes trail over your figure. Your nipples are hard under his gaze, the pressure of the situation catching up to you. Gojo brings a thumb up and glides it against one nipple, grinning once you shiver. 
“Sensitive, are we?” 
Your face fills with heat at the taunt. Gojo lowers himself to your breasts, his face even with one of them. His mouth opens as his tongue flicks out, dragging across your nipple. You groan and throw your head back, letting the sensation over take you. His lips wrap around you, the warmth of his mouth making your skin break out in goosebumps. He gently sucks, his tongue rubbing back and forth. Gojo lightly bites your nipple, a dull sensation flooding through your body before he lets go to lick the area again. 
If you had any sense of self preservation, you would be mortified at the noises you were letting out. 
But you didn’t. 
Instead, your body twists and turns underneath him, moans floating from your lips. Gojo brings up his thumb to your face, sliding along your bottom lip before slipping inside your mouth. You graciously accept it, using one hand to hold him steady. You suck his thumb, your tongue running along the side of it. You’re grateful to have something else to focus on besides the near painful throbbing that was happening between your legs. You let him rest the pad on your tongue, sucking it into your mouth. 
Gojo pulls his thumb from your lips and brings it to your chest, letting the saliva coat your other nipple. Your face pinches up at the sensation, his thumb smoothing back and forth over you. 
Gojo leans up again, his face ever so slightly tinted with need. He moves down to press kisses to your stomach before he reaches your pants. There was only two more pieces of clothing protecting you, the realization that you would soon be completely bare makes your throat tighten. His fingers linger on your waist to give you an opportunity to stop, before he finally tugs both garments down. A rush of cold air brushes against you. You felt helpless under his gaze, completely at his disposal. 
You wanted this, god you wanted this. 
His fingers glide down your thighs, pulling your legs open with a strength that borderlined on elegance. Bright blue eyes look at your core, the way he looked at you was ravenous. Just like a wild animal. Gojo slides down until his head is between your thighs, and you realize just how good he looks there. Almost as if he was meant to be there. 
“You don’t know how long I’ve been dreaming about this.” His voice is low and raspy, and he darts his eyes up to your face and then back down. 
Years, maybe. You had known him for quite some time, and the two of you had teased each other for most of it. You always erred on the side of respect while he constantly pushed the line, seeing what he could get away with. And just like how he admitted he was dreaming of it, you were too. Knowing Suguru didn’t care set your mind at ease. It felt surreal. 
Gojo sticks his tongue out and lines it up with your pussy, sliding through your folds slowly. A moan escapes your throat. 
“G-gojo-“ you groan. 
He stops to speak. 
“Call me Satoru.” 
You whimper below him as he drags his tongue through you again, flicking against your clit. 
“Satoru-“ 
When you say his name it’s as if you’re letting him loose. His face dives in, his lips wrapping around your clit. Your fists grip the sheets below you, your legs shaking around his head. The change in pace was making your head spin. He keeps his lips wrapped around you while his tongue massages your clit. You can feel your pussy drool, already responsive to the way Satoru touched your body. 
You wanted to tell him how good it felt, how you felt insane as he pleasured you, how you’ve needed him for all this time and more. 
But you can’t. 
You groan as he glides his tongue around. You were certain that anything you could bring yourself to say would be intelligible. Satoru pulls away to seemingly give you a moment of reprieve. Just as you’re catching your breath, he’s pursing his lips and blowing on your core. Your legs try to close but he keeps them open, a smile showing on his face. 
“So fucking cute,” he coos at you. 
Satoru slides down, sticking his tongue out again. 
“Can’t believe you made me wait all this time to taste you- fuck, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.” He speaks before he presses his tongue against your hole.
The warmth of it spreads across you from the inside out. He presses inside you before sliding out, tongue fucking you. You’re moaning as you look down to watch him, to watch the strongest sorcerer metaphorically on his knees for you. 
Your clit feels neglected as he moves his tongue around. 
“P-please Satoru.” You beg, your voice wavering. 
He pulls away to wait for you to speak. 
“What is it baby? What do you need?” 
Fuck him. He knows what you need. Satoru’s always been a tease, it only made sense for him to be the same in bed. 
You aren’t quite sure how Suguru does it. 
“Make me feel good.” Your mind is melted as you ask him. 
“Am I not already making you feel good? Because I would beg to differ.”
“Satoru m-make me cum.” You plead. 
Something flashes in his eyes before he’s covering you with his mouth again. His tongue goes straight for your clit, circling it as you thrash below him. His strong arms hold you down as he licks you. With the noises he was making below you, you would think he was the one getting touched. 
Your moans increase in volume as he refuses to relent, again going back to sucking your clit. You could hardly focus with the way he touched you. Satoru continues until you’re moaning his name. You know you’re close, he must know it too. His eyes flutter closed as he continues. Your body jerks underneath him, and your hands fly up to clutch his hair. 
“Satoru- I’m gonna,” you moan. 
Seconds later you burst on his tongue, cumming as he refuses to stop. He licks up everything you give him until you’re squirming away, pushing his head. 
When you look down, you see that he looks crazed as he pulls away. His lips are covered in your release, his cheeks tinted a dark pink as he drags his tongue on his lips. 
Your body is still settling down as he leans over, pressing a kiss against you again. It’s softer this time, and when he pulls away he looks much more composed. 
His eyes flick up towards the clock on his bedside table before he brings them back down to look at you. 
“Satoru, aren’t we going to,” you aren’t sure how to finish that sentence. You were embarrassed to ask if you were going to have sex even though his tongue was on you moments ago. 
“I’d love to, you know I would. But it’s late. If we start now, I don’t plan on stopping for a very long time. Either we start now and we both call out of work tomorrow, or we stop for now.” 
You really didn’t want to stop. But you also didn’t want to miss work tomorrow. There would always be more chances to have sex with him, but you wanted to do it now. 
“And you?” You ask, dragging your eyes to the bulge in his pants. 
Satoru waves, unbothered by the implication. 
“Suguru gets me riled up all the time and stops to piss me off, I’ll be fine.” 
You feel as the room starts to cool down again. 
That was probably the best orgasm of your life. 
“However,” Satoru leans down close to your face, “just remember next time we start, I’m not going to stop.” 
Lead is in your stomach as you nod. He smiles and pulls away again, walking over towards his drawers. He’s digging around before he comes back holding one of his shirts and pants. 
“Wear these for the night. It’s too late and I get needy after sex.” You chuckle at the admission and take the clothes, sliding them over your form. 
You drown in them, but it’s nice. It smells like a mixture between the two men. You could smell it forever. 
Satoru flops on the bed and wraps his arms around you, bringing you in close. He was needy, and you didn’t even really have sex. 
Sleeping with Satoru was easy. The lack of personal space was just what you needed to get a good nights rest. Your eyes flutter open once you see the sun start to peak through his blinds. The previous night felt like a dream, but you were positive it wasn’t. You were still wearing his clothes and he was still wrapped around your body. Satoru’s eyes are closed but you have a sneaking suspicion he’s awake. You pinch his shoulder and laugh at the face he makes. 
“Can’t sleep forever.” You tease. 
“Why not?” 
You turn to look at the clock. You had a bit of time before you would have to go to school, but you didn’t want to allow yourself to break under the temptation of getting comfortable again. 
Satoru sits up first and it seems as though he’s been awake for sometime now, the lack of sleepiness evident on his features. He must be an early bird. He stands up and you follow after him. 
You skimp around and find your discarded clothes from the previous night. They were slightly crumpled, not anything extremely noticeable. If you were lucky, no one would notice they were the clothes from yesterday. You shake your shoulders before shedding the man’s clothes, switching them with yours. Satoru’s waiting outside the bedroom with breakfast. It was cereal and toast, simple but it suited him. 
“Sorry if it’s a shitty breakfast, Suguru’s always the one to cook. Whenever he leaves I basically wither away and starve.” He says as he bites into a piece of toast. 
“Aw, you poor baby.” You respond and sit next to him, pouring a bowl of the sugary cereal. 
“I’m glad you noticed.” 
You open your mouth to speak before you snap it closed. You wanted to ask where Suguru was. You didn’t want to seem needy, he still wasn’t in the clear yet. Even if you were mad, you missed him. 
“He’s gonna be back later today.” Satoru answers you before you even ask. 
You talk over your poor man’s breakfast before you head off to the school, the full day ahead of you. 
When your feet hit the school grounds, something feels different. You aren’t sure what it is. Satoru seems to notice too. There isn’t anything wrong per se, but it doesn’t feel like it normally does. When you find the principle, part of you feels relieved. Maybe he could tell you what was going on. 
“Oh, there you two are. You’re late.” He says. 
Satoru usually was late. You, however, weren’t. 
“What can I say, I’m a bad influence.” 
Yaga ignores him before he speaks. 
“There was another attack close to the school last night.” 
What? 
Your eyes flick to Satoru but it’s impossible to tell if he’s looking at you, he put his blindfold on once you entered the room. 
“It was a little after 1 A.M around the shift change, and it was seemingly closer than it’s been before.” 
After 1, what were you doing after 1? 
You knew exactly what you were doing after 1. It involved a certain someone in the same room as you. 
“W-what happened?” You prod. 
“Not much, at least nothing big compared to previous attacks. They just burned down a couple of trees. It’s a bit weird.” 
“It’s like they’re taunting us.” Satoru says. 
The realization curdles in your stomach. They were getting closer and they could have done something drastic, but they didn’t. Why didn’t they? 
Your body shifts as Yaga talks. You feel a wave of guilt crash over you. It happened last night, when you were responsible, when you left early. There was a chance you could have stopped it. 
“I think I’m going to employ a little more help. It’s not realistic to have sorcerers there 24/7, so I’m going to use some of my cursed corpses to guard it. They aren’t enough to stop the group, probably, but they’ll be enough to at the very least alert someone who can stop it.” 
Not a bad idea. 
Your teeth dig in your cheek as Yaga excuses himself. Satoru steps in front of you and grabs your arm. 
“What’s wrong?” He asks. 
“I could have stopped it. I left early.” 
“It probably happened right after your shift was going to end anyway. The other group taking over after you probably just arrived late. The attacks have never happened this late before so you had no reason to believe anything was going to happen.” 
His words make you feel a little better, but you still find yourself deflating at the realization. 
No matter how bad you were feeling, you knew you would have to get over it, at least for the day. You had things to do, and your students needed you. 
“You good?” 
“Yeah, I’m good, let’s go.” 
The both of you depart, going to your classrooms. 
Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss, @dinolvrrr, @kimi01985, @constawrites, @spookysoowpprince, @reosnagi, @faerie-soirxx, @platrom, @oownowonwoo, @megumisdivinedogs
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jakes3resin · 2 days
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PowerPoint Night with Bubbles
There are many things a man needs to know once assigned to the 100th Bomber group, and Bubbles Payne has created a presentation full of rules of survival. These are vital things to ensure the safety of the crews and keep the peace on base. Rules like don't touch Major Egan's curls unless you can outrun Buck as well as don't let Lieutenant Biddick talk you into flirting with Major Egan even if you think Buck isn't there. Or don't dare Major Egan to do anything unless Buck or Kidd have approved it. Learn these rules, and you too can enjoy a peaceful life here at Thorpe Abbotts! Link to AO3
"Major where are we going?"
"Don't ask questions, just get in the bunker before they see us."
"Sir?"
"Private get in the fucking bunker right now."
"Yes, sir!"
Jack sighs from where he can hear Veal and one of the new guys. Really, he wished they could have this talk back in the briefing room where he'd welcomed them all or even in the mess, but secrecy is key according to Curt. Jack is hard pressed to disagree given the contraband they have, contraband that could get them all killed if Buck found out, but he still wishes they didn't have to sound so ominous shoving the new guys down here.
Bubbles stands to his right quietly collecting his note cards. Jack isn't sure why he has notecards considering this is a talk even he could give in his sleep, but Bubbles likes his note cards, says they make things seem less threatening.
Sure, Jack scoffs to himself, they're the threatening ones here.
Curt slides in right after Veal shuffles in the last of the new guys, who all look differing shades of terrified, confused, and lost. Curt waves his arms around, his signal for them to get the show on the road, and Jack sighs when he nearly hits Rosenthal in the face. The pilot, thankfully, doesn't seem upset by it, especially after Curt sends him a smile before darting off. Jack isn't going to think about the lovestruck look on the lieutenant's face. He has more pressing issues to deal with.
"Hi y'all," Bubbles starts with a smile as Friedkin and Claytor drag the projector forward. Bubbles is the best at these lectures with his sweet smile that'd make you think butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. It's a shame he's also secretly a gremlin like Bucky and Curt. "Now if anyone can't see the front of the room, please move so that you can. I've got visuals for this, and it's important everyone can see them."
A few boys shuffle around, and Bubbles nods gesturing for Friedkin to click on the projector. Without prompting, Veal turns to dim the lights. Curt hushes all of the new guys, and Hambone locks the doors. It's startingly well-coordinated, but Jack, despite himself, is thankful for it.
"I'm sure you boys are all wonderin' why we dragged you down here. Don't worry, you're not in trouble!" Bubbles turns to his next notecard. One of the new boys sneezes in the background.
"So, you've all sat through Harding's welcome and the regular onboarding talk, yes?" Bubbles nods as a few voices confirm it. "Great! Well, you can consider this an addendum to that talk! Just a few more very important things to learn before you settle in on base. This won't take more than an hour I promise, and then we'll show you all to the enlisted men's mess to get you some dinner!"
Bubbles turns to the screen that Curt somehow wrangled down here a week after they'd flown in. Jack didn't ask any questions just simply accepted it. Friedkin clicks the projector onto the first image, a picture of Jack, Veal, Buck, Bucky, Harding, and Turner. The boys all stare in confusion.
"I'm sure you fellas recognize Major Kidd, Major Veal, Colonel Harding, and Major Turner." Bubbles uses a laser pointer that he'd pulled from nowhere to point out each man as he names them. He jumps over Buck and Bucky. "They were all at your briefing earlier, you'll be seeing a lot of them depending which squad you're on. Now,"
Friedkin clicks to the next picture. Buck and Bucky stand smiling at each other. Jack knows neither of them know of this picture's existence given they'd been too deep in the other's eyes to notice the camera pointed right at them even after Curt yelled at them to smile. Idiots, the pair of them.
"These are Major Gale 'Buck' Cleven," Bubbles points his laser pointer at Buck's smiling face before shifting it to Bucky's. "And Major John Clarence 'Bucky' Egan. They're the topic of this briefing."
Jack leans back watching the new guys shuffle around glancing at one and other. Rosenthal quickly raises his hand. Jack sighs.
"We'll take questions at the end, sorry lieutenant, but there's a lot of ground to cover with not a lot of time." Bubbles at least seems apologetic when he says it.
"They, sadly, had to miss the briefing earlier due to Major Egan hitting his head during a rec soccer game this morning. They'll introduce themselves in the next few days."
Jack does not want to think about that headache. A simple soccer game nearly turned into a bloodbath. Friedkin had nearly been murdered, and Bucky was still in the infirmary at Buck’s insistence. God, he really didn't want to think about it.
Bubbles gestures towards the screen. A picture of Buck appears. Jack leans back against the wall as the new guys all stare slack jawed. For good reason too.
"This is Major Cleven demonstrating his hand-to-hand combat skills." Bubbles uses his laser pointer to circle the knife Buck's holding. "We don't know where he got this knife. Next!"
Friedkin clicks to the next picture. This one is Bucky's military headshot. Jack thinks its a good opener. They need to control the replacement's first Bucky Daze, and doing so with a soft opener like this works best. Curt had wanted to open with a shirtless smiling Bucky, but he'd been swiftly vetoed. Bubbles nods and turns to stare into the crowd.
"Now, I'm going to show you boys a few pictures, and then I'll get into a few Dos and Don’ts of life here at Thorpe Abbotts. We'll take it slow, but if any of you start feeling dazed or light headed, please take a seat on the ground. Someone will help you if you need."
The boys all turn to each other confused. A few whispers break out about what the hell is going on, but Bubbles doesn't let that deter him.
Friedkin clicks to the next photo.
"This," Bubbles says, not looking directly at the photo. "Is Major Egan after winning a baseball game."
Jack stares out into the crowd checking on the boys. A few seem dazed. Another few lean forward. He glances at the photo as Bubbles keeps talking in the background.
It's a good photo. Bucky is smiling nearly blinding in the darkness of the bunker. His curls are going everywhere as he stares down at the ground as he walks off the field. He's wearing a long-sleeved black shirt which does nothing to hide how broad his shoulders are, and you can just see the beginnings of his shorts if you glance down. Thankfully, the shot didn't show anything lower. Brady must have taken this one most likely, Jack notes. Few others would have stopped so high.
A click, and the photo changes.
"This is Major Egan after hearing Major Cleven tell a joke."
If Bucky's smile in the last picture was bright, this one was radiant. Jack would call it like staring right into the sun itself. Bucky's staring at Buck off camera, and with the sun just behind him, Bucky looks a lot like the sun made human.
"We call this the Bucky Sunshine Smile. On days where the weather consists of rain, rain, and more rain, it is dangerous to look at head on which is why we've prepared this for you boys just so you know. Early exposure helps keep you on your feet when you see it in person."
Bubbles uses his laser pointer to point out the ground crew in the background. A few boys sit down on the ground.
"Poor Winks fainted the first time he saw the Sunshine smile, and Lemmons now requires his boys to wear goggles if Bucky is going to hang around while they work."
Bubbles smiles at the men, but Jack can tell a few of them are already lost to Bucky's smile. Bubbles gives them another minute. Thankfully no one faints.
Friedkin clicks to the next photo. This one prompts a larger reaction from the men.
"This is Major Egan on the wing of Major Cleven's fort after a night of drinking."
Bucky stares up at the camera with flushed cheeks and a lazy grin on his face. With the top few buttons of his shirt undone, he's laid out on the wing like it's his bed back home, thighs open and arms draped above his head. This one was taken by Curt. Jack can tell because it looks closer to a pin-up poster than an innocent photo of his friend. Jack's just glad he's wearing more clothes this time. In the last iteration of this presentation, Bubbles had included one of Bucky in a tank top and shorts. Shorts, Jack might add, that went exactly five inches down his thighs before stopping. They're lucky the boys made it through the rest of the presentation.
Bubbles gives the boys a few minutes to take in the photo before gesturing to Friedkin to move along.
Bucky stares out at them, one arm curled pillowing his head. His curls are nearly as wild as the first photo, but they lay almost stylishly messy. Curt would describe Bucky's eyes here as 'fuck me' eyes, but Jack chooses to think they look sleepy, for his own sanity you see.
One of the new guys faints. A few others look like they might join him. Crosby runs over with some smelling salts. Well, Jack thinks to himself, at least it's only the one this time. They may have finally gotten the correct photo order this time. Daze the boys just enough that exposure to the real thing doesn’t kill them.
"Sorry bout that. He's fine, happens all the time," Bubbles gestures to Friedkin again. "Just one more then I'll give you gentlemen a moment."
The final picture gives Jack headaches just looking at it. It's Buck and Bucky, all over each other as usual. Bucky's got an arm thrown around Buck's waist with his other hand reaching up to squish Buck's cheeks. Buck has one arm tossed over Bucky's shoulders, and he's staring back at Bucky with a soft besotted look. In the background you can just see Veal doing shots at the bar of the officer's club. Jack doesn't blame him.
"Lights please!" Bubbles calls out. He leaves that last photo up even as the lights start to wash it out. It's probably for the best. Giving the boys a picture to focus on helps them remember the information, but washed out like this, they don't run the risk of anyone fainting again.
"Now, gentlemen," Bubbles moves to his next notecard. "These are the Buckies' Dos and Don'ts of Survival. Or as I like to call them 'Bucky-Proofing the 100th,' and if you follow them carefully, you may escape bodily harm and grievous injury to live a happy life here between missions."
Bubbles grins at them all. Jack suppresses a groan as Curt cackles. Rosenthal, Jack notes, turns his head in Curt's direction to watch him laugh. Jack turns his head away. He's not focusing on that right now, no sir. One problem at a time.
"Now, if my lovely assistant could bring up the poster boards he prepared." Bubbles looks over at Croz, who under the eyes of everyone there looks like he would rather die. Croz carefully drags over an easel with a bunch of poster boards under each arm. Dougie steps forward to help fix the easel when Croz trips over it and nearly smashes the thing to pieces. Jack sighs pinching the bridge of his nose.
Croz puts up the first poster board up before running back to hide at the wall. Dougie follows with a laugh.
"Thanks Harry!" Bubbles chirps before pointing his laser at the board. "The first Buckies' Do is: do keep space between you and Buck. Major Cleven likes his personal space, and he likes Major Egan’s personal space. So, unless Major Egan invites you into his and Buck's space, do keep a few feet away. Major Cleven may also decide to enter your personal space, but usually that isn't a good thing so avoid it if possible. Once he has his hands on you, we can't help you."
Bubbles moves on.
"Next! Do join Bucky's sports leagues! He has a few of them, so if baseball isn't your game, try soccer, volleyball, or any number of other sports. Bucky also likes learning about new games, so we encourage you to teach him. Buck doesn't care for sports, but he'll watch Bucky play." Bubbles points his laser to the next point.
"Do go out to the pub, especially if Bucky invites you! He's the best at getting everyone passes off base, so take the opportunity when it presents itself. There's always something fun to do, and usually there are games to bet on or locals to flirt with."
Jack can see Douglass nudging Harry. He hates this last point. He really does, not that Jack can blame him. Poor Croz had been subject to both Buck and Bucky due to the man's unfortunate tendency to walk in at the worst moment.
"Finally!" Bubbles says it like it's some grand reveal. "Our last Buckies' Do! Do place your trust in Majors Cleven and Egan on missions even if one of them just threatened you. Especially if they just threatened you! They're good men, and you'll soon see why we respect them so much up in the air!"
Bubbles gently lifts the board off of the easel to replace it with the next one. Curt starts laughing, probably at something Dickie or Veal said to him, and Jack wishes he'd sat this meeting out. Rosenthal is just blatantly watching Curt laugh now instead of Bubbles.
"Here are the Buckies' Don'ts. These are vitally important gentlemen, do not forget them! We'll do questions after, and Dickie and Hambone will have leaflets for when you leave listing them."
Dickie and Hambone wave when Bubbles points them out. They're both carrying a large stack of printed leaflets that Jack doesn't want to know where they came from.
"The first Don't is the most vital. Do not under any circumstances touch Major Egan's hair. Major Cleven doesn't like it, and he will react negatively to those who do. If you're interested in witness testimonies, those are also on the leaflets." Bubbles moves on.
"The second Don't is do not listen to Lieutenant Biddick when he says Bucky is okay with something. Bucky may be okay with it if you're nice and polite, but usually Buck isn't. Curt knows this, and he knows you don't. We've lost a few boys to this already."
Curt just smirks as the new guys all turn to stare at him. He winks at them, and Jack, for his sanity, does not want to think about why Rosenthal is blushing right now.
"The third Don't is do not flirt with either of them. Bucky is protective, and Buck is feral." Bubbles circles this Don't with his laser pointer. "Bucky won't hurt you, but Buck probably will. Your best bet at dealing with a feral Buck is to divert Bucky's attention to him. Usually this will calm him down within moments, but you will have to avoid the pair for at least three days. Buck never forgets, but time around Bucky lessens the punishment you’ll face we’ve found."
"The fourth Don't," Bubbles moves to his next note card. "Is do not stare too long into either of their eyes or look at Bucky's smile for longer than three seconds. It will cause confusion and befuddlement, and in some cases, it can be permanent. They are very, very blue. We know this. They are very, very captivating. We know this as well."
"The final Don't is a new one, added just for you boys," Bubbles lifts up another poster board. "Do not dare Major Egan to do anything if Buck, Kidd, or any other officer of or above the rank of Major are not there to stop him from doing something stupid. He likes dares, but there have been disruptions in base wide activities, which means any dare, bet, or proposition must be judged by the committee before they can be carried out. If anyone is found to have dared Bucky to do anything without approval, the guilty parties may be subjected to discipline under Buck or Kidd depending on the severity of the outcome."
Bubbles gestures for Friedkin to turn the projector off. Harry runs forward to dismantle the easel. Dougie, thankfully, helps him before he breaks it.
"Thank you for sitting through this presentation. We will be taking questions now." Bubbles gestures for the others to join him at the front of the bunker to answer the replacements' questions. Jack stands up to follow the guys up there. The replacements just stare at them. Jack almost thinks maybe they're still in shock when one tentatively raises their hand.
"Is Major Egan a model?" The question draws a few laughs, but a few nod along.
"Not in this century," Curt shakes his head.
That seems to open up the floodgates.
"How did you get those photos?"
"Very carefully, and no one is allowed to tell Buck about them. We’re still recovering from his rampage after the pin-up fiasco." Jack jumps to answer this one when he sees Curt start to open his mouth. Jack doesn’t need Curt giving them any ideas. Not yet at least.
“Are his curls soft?”
“Devastatingly so.”
"What do you mean you don't know where Major Cleven got that knife?"
"He just pulled it out during training one day after someone played with Bucky's curls." Bubbles shrugged.
"He's damn good with it too. Man can fight." Curt joins in. "Next question?"
Curt's eyes latched onto someone in the crowd. Jack did not like how they lit up.
"You," Curt points, "Rosie, right? What's your question handsome?"
Jack was going to neuter Curt.
"Well, I," Rosenthal's cheeks looked near ready to burst into flames. "I was wondering how long the pair of them had been going steady?"
Curt bursts out laughing. Jack rolls his eyes. Veal sighs next to him, and Jack understands his pain.
"Nah, those two ain't going steady. In their dreams, yeah, but reality is Buck can't get his head out of his ass to ask Bucky who thinks he's not good enough for Buck."
Curt clapped his hands together, the sound echoed in the large underground bunker.
“Which is why I have a master plan,” Curt’s grin is downright sinister. Jack reaches over to shut him up.
“Do not listen to a word he says. Second Don’t remember that boys.” Jack stares at the crowd in front of him, deadly serious. “Lieutenant Biddick is not to be listened to. He enjoys chaos and destroying Buck’s psyche. He gets away with it because he’s Bucky’s best friend, and Buck wouldn’t do anything to upset him.”
Curt licks his palm, but Jack’s used to it and holds firm. Sadly, this is his life now.
“Majors Cleven and Egan are, how can do I say this?” Bubbles jumps in. “Circling each other? We’re trying to force one of ‘em to make the first move, but they’re stubborn.”
“Any other questions?” Jack pulls his hand away when he feels Curt open his mouth, narrowly avoiding Curt sinking his teeth into his palm. “You are a feral child they never should have let into a cockpit.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re no fun.” Curt zeroes in on Rosenthal in the crowd again. “Rosie dear, why don’t you help me lead these boys to the mess?”
Rosie stutters, but Curt guides him along. Jack fears he’s lost Rosenthal to Curt’s clutches now. The man is hanging off of Curt’s every word, and Curt is beaming from the attention.
“Don’t forget to pick up a leaflet on your way out!” Bubbles calls after the boys. Veal helps guide the stragglers out, and Jack locks up once Bubbles secures the projector.
“I think that went rather well?” Harry joins them as they climb out.
“Sure did Croz!” Bubbles links their arms. “Only one guy fainted! I think that’s our new record!”
“C’mon Buck!” Jack can hear Bucky’s whining tone. “I just wanna say hi to the new crews! Curt said he saw a few cute ones.”
“Oh God,” Jack guesses the boys will be getting their first real viewing of Buck and Bucky sooner than he thought. He starts to push his way to the front of the crowd. Maybe he’ll be able to divert them a different way.
“I’m just making sure John.” Buck’s low voice grows louder, probably walking in their direction now. The new boys all stop, eyes wide. “That ball could have done real damage. I can’t believe Friedkin kicked it at your head.”
“It’s fine! See?” Bucky laughs. “Doc said it only bled so much because it reopened the cut from before! Two wounds mean double the blood!”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.” Buck and Bucky round the corner, too caught up in each other to notice the crowd watching them.
“Holy shit!”
“Oh my god!”
Jack hears a thump as someone faints. Fuck, they forgot to warn them about the blond hair.
Bucky’s still blond curls gleam in the late evening light. His roots have slightly grown out, but that just means they bounce as he moves around. He’s still in his gear from this morning’s soccer game, and while thankfully his shorts are slightly longer, there is little left to the imagination. Buck hovers at his shoulder, worry etched into the lines of his face. Jack hears Friedkin squeak and run away.
“Don’t be such a worrywart Buck!” Bucky drags Buck closer. Buck doesn’t even flinch at having Bucky’s face barely even an inch from his own. Jack thinks it probably calms him down, the fucking simp. “How about a kiss to make it feel better? Don’t know if you know this, but kisses heal all wounds.”
Buck stares at Bucky with furrowed brows. Bucky grins and leans closer. Jack can see that at least the infirmary had washed the blood off his face.
Quick as a whip, Buck pulls Bucky’s face down to press a soft kiss to the cut across his nose. He places a second on the tip of his nose before pulling away. Bucky stands frozen. His cheeks start to color, a bright pink coloring his pale cheeks. His blue eyes stare at Bucky dazed.
“And they’re not going steady?” Rosenthal’s voice whispers to his left. Curt’s answer whisper is closer to a laugh than anything else.
“Idiots, am I right Rosie?” Curt pauses. “See what they want right in front of them, but they just won’t take it.”
Rosie stares back at a loss for words. Jack sighs.
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aislynn-wiley1999 · 2 days
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Wandering Eyes
Summary: Aislynn goes to the Yule Ball with Sebastian, but her eyes keep wandering to another boy across the room.
Chapter 19 of my Fic “Three Headed Serpent” which can be found here on AO3 :)
Content: Alcohol, mention of sex, forced kissing, angst, jealousy.
Word Count: 2.2k
Imelda is fretting by her bed, occasionally holding pieces of jewelry up to me for an opinion as she tries to match things to her dress. I occasionally nod, not really paying attention to her vain worries as she hastily plans her outfit for the Yule Ball. I organized my attire last week, not wanting the very thing Imelda is going through to consume me at the last moment.
“You’re acting as if the ball is your funeral, Aislynn,” Imelda states, still rummaging through her jewelry case. A sour look goes across my face at her words. I was trying to be excited, I really was, but I could not convince myself of the emotion. Things should be better this year than last year. I have a date, a dress that I did not throw together at the last second, and two idiot boys will not have a jealous filled spat in the hallway because of me. So why was I not excited?
“I just think I’m regretting not having experienced more of these events,” I tell Imelda, pressing a smile to my face to mask my apathetic feelings. She shrugs, buying my excuse. “They are only really fun when you’re older. My first few balls were awkward and full of puffy dresses and boys who were too scared to ask for a dance. Thank Merlin, someone decent has asked me this year.”
Imelda had been asked a week or two ago by another boy in Slytherin, someone I really only knew in passing, named Luther. I hadn’t even known that she fancied him, but Imelda had been trying out many different boys since the start of the term. Always searching for one more interesting, more handsome than the last. Luther, who was tall with jet black hair, seemed to at least fall into the latter category.
“Luther is certainly handsome,” I say, trying to get her to talk about him so that I don’t have to comment on her jewelry anymore. Imelda beams, clearly pleased with the boy she has snatched up as a date for tonight.
“Isn’t he? I finally got a good one,” she says, holding a pair of earrings up to her ears. “What do you think of these?”
Looking at the earrings in depth, I smile and nod. They were pretty, everything she had shown me was pretty. “Are you going to get ready soon?” I ask, wanting an excuse to start getting my hair ready.
“I think I need to, it’s almost four o’clock, we have to be ready in a few hours,” she says. “Can you help me with my hair?”
I grin. “Of course, only if you help me with mine.”
Imelda throws her head back in a laugh. “Deal. Not like you have much hair to work with, anyways.”
—-----------------------------------------------
In the small mirror in our room, Imelda admires her final form before we depart to the hall. She looks lovely, dressed in a purple gown with enough gold jewelry to draw anyone’s eyes towards her. I plaited her hair, coiling it at the nape of her neck, and she has rouge on her face so that she constantly looks like she’s blushing.
“God, I look pretty,” she says, clearly pleased with the end goal. “You want a go with the mirror?”
Stepping aside, she allows me to gaze at myself in the small looking glass. I barely recognize myself, the girl in the mirror is such a stark contrast to my normal sullen self. The dress, dark blue with black lace, is more beautiful than I could have imagined. My hair, which has grown over time, sits a bit past my shoulders. Imelda masterfully pulled back the scrawny pieces in the front, twisting them and pinning them away from my face. I allowed her to apply the tiniest bit of rouge to my face, causing me to glow pink.
The real star is the jewelry I wear. Silver earrings, dangling with a pearl at my lobe. And my necklace. The very necklace Sebastian gave me, over a year ago. It was the one silver necklace I had, and it seemed fitting to allow him to see me in it. Looking at it, sitting against my chest, all I could notice was the small phrase carved in braille. What it meant to me, and how it could only be interpreted by one.
Pushing the thought away, I smile at myself in the mirror. Imelda is behind me, grinning, clearly pleased with her work. “You look absolutely ravishing. Sebastian will probably eat you alive.”
I have to force myself to not drop the smile on my face. I was not upset about going with Sebastian, but I knew to him it meant something different than it did to me. It meant lust, sex, courting, my lips on his. And I didn’t want that, any of it, anymore.
Imelda makes a comment regarding the time, and she pulls me away from the mirror. “We must go now, it started fifteen minutes ago, and I don’t want Luther to wait on me!” I let her drag me out of the room and through the common room towards the hall, where our dates planned to meet us.
I spot Sebastian before he spots me, and I can’t help but still admire how much effort he is willing to put into himself for fancier events. Dressed in all black, his hair less messy than usual, he looks handsome. He is handsome. And when he turns and spots me, it all almost seems like it’s going to be okay.
He looks as though he has been petrified, his body still as his eyes take me in. Mouth agape, he starts to walk towards where Imelda and I are, his pace hurried. Once he is a few feet from us he stops, and just admires me. Admires my dress, my hair, my shining face, the shy smile I give him. And even though Sebastian is just my friend, and I want nothing more from him, I eagerly take his hand when he offers it to me.
Waving quickly at Imelda, I let Sebastian pull me into the hall. “You look beautiful, Aislynn,” he tells me, his voice deep and hushed. “Want to get a drink?”
I nod and allow him to steer me towards the tables full of food and drinks. He pours us two glasses of some red liquid, and then quickly pops out a flask and pours something stronger into them. I drink, the flavor of the alcohol being masked by something pleasant and sweet. My eyes scan the room, pausing on Poppy and Garreth, and I smile. Despite not wanting to pursue each other romantically, the two still enjoy each other’s company and came together as friends for the night. I keep my eyes moving, trying to see who all is here, before pausing again when I see a patch on blonde hair.
Ominous is seated, alone, at a table in the corner. I try not to stare at him for too long, but I can’t help it. Since our last meeting on my birthday, I have longed to talk to him again. Aout anything or about nothing, but just to hear his voice. It was driving me mad, and I don’t even know why.
I am drawn away from Ominis when Sebastian plucks my cup from my hand and hauls me out to the dance floor. I let him grip my waist, placing my hands on his shoulders, and allow him to pull me close to him. The music is slow, but loud enough that people cannot hear what he is saying to me.
“I feel as though I have never seen another woman when I look at you. You are the prized possession to have at this ball,” he says, his voice ragged in my ear. “What I would not do to be alone with you at this moment.”
I don’t even know what to say in response to these things. His bold, unashamed comments only make me blush in embarrassment. I don’t want him to say these things to me, especially not while Ominis is in my direct line of sight. I gaze at him from across the room, before mumbling a quick thank you to Sebastian. My eyes can’t seem to leave the boy across the room, the one who can’t meet my stare.
The song ends and I start to pull myself away from Sebastian, my eyes still on Ominis. When Sebastian sees my face, he starts to follow my eyes to where they are directed. I look away, not wanting to be caught staring at his friend, but I am too late. He sees exactly who I am fixated on, and his expression sours.
“Am I not suitable company for you?” he says, his tone showing that he is hurt. I shake my head quickly, a fake smile on my lips. “Sorry,” I tell him, “I think I just zoned out for a bit. You look wonderful tonight.”
That last bit seems to do the trick, his smug grin emerging and the upset look fading on his face. Music starts again, another song to sway to, and he pulls me close again. I allow him to lead me all across the dance floor, my dress swirling each time we turn.
“Aislynn,” he says, his voice a whisper again. I pull my head back slightly to look at him, waiting for his response. But instead of saying anything, Sebastian seizes the opportunity to crash his lips onto mine.
Jerking my head away with a gasp, I stare at him wide eyed. “What are you doing?” I say, glancing around at the few heads that have turned towards us. “It’s fine,” Sebastian says, “I don’t care if they see us.” As he moves his head closer again, I force myself to break away from his embrace.
“I care!” I all but yelled. “I don’t want people to see, I don’t want to do that!”
The last statement almost seems to slap him across the face, but I don’t care. I stand there, a good foot or two in between us, and glare at him. I turn my head to where Ominis had been sitting, but find him gone. Looking around, I don’t see him anywhere.
Turning my attention back to the boy in front of me, I give him one final look of anger before leaving him during the middle of the song. Picking up my skirts, I stomp out of the room and into the hallway. I head towards the one place I think that Ominis could be, the one place we got to for solitude and relaxation.
The door to the Undercroft opens with a creak, potentially alerting anyone inside that someone is there. I step into the room, and sure enough he is there waiting to be found.
Ominous is seated at the piano, no noise coming out of it. He doesn’t turn his head or even lift it when I walk in, despite the sound of my heeled shoes giving me away. I stand, watching him stay still, and open my mouth to speak.
But he beats me to it. “You need not check up on me. It’s not fair to Sebastian that you left him to see me.”
“I do not want to be with Sebastian right now,” I say, the words feeling truthful and coming out confidently. At this statement, Ominous lifts his head and angles it towards me. “He is your date tonight, is he not?”
There is this feeling inside me, drawn out by the question he asks me, and things seem to build up inside and erupt like a dam in my mind. “You should have asked me,” I all but blurted out.
Now his head is facing mine entirely, his expression a mix of shock and confusion. “We were not speaking until a few weeks ago, and he had asked you by…”
“Last year, then. You should have asked me last year. Why didn’t you?” I press into him, all but demanding he answer my question. Ominis sighed, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “He was going to.”
“But he didn’t.”
I watch as Ominis opens his mouth, and then shuts it again. He can’t seem to come up with a suitable response for a moment. “I know that you two are in love, and that is why I have distanced myself.”
It takes everything in my power not to laugh at his statement. “In love?” I scoff. “I am not in love with Sebastian, I can assure you.”
Ominis’ eyebrows knit themselves in confusion. “I don’t… he- he wrote to me, and…” The words seem to stumble out, not making any real sense to me. “I don’t even know what to believe anymore, from either of you.”
“If Sebastian has told you otherwise, it’s a lie.” The words sounded harsh coming out of my mouth, but they needed to be said. “I am not in love with him.”
“I- I have put my feelings aside for a long time, Aislynn. You need not spare them now,” he says, choking out the words. He almost seems like he is trying to convince himself that what I say is false, that I am the one who is lying to him. “Sebastian loves you.”
“What do I care about that if I don’t love him?” I scoff, my words cold. I watch as Ominis tries to compose himself, his mind clearly racing from the conversation. He is running a hand through his hair, making it lose its normally perfect shape.
“But he loves you… don’t you get it?” he finally breathes out, expression crazed as he pants. I shake my head, picking my skirt up. His denial, his belief that he must sacrifice for Sebastian, it’s too much for me.
“Believe what you want. But I am down here with you right now, and he is alone upstairs,” I say, my voice low and calculated. I don’t give him a chance to respond as I hoist my skirt up and march out of the room, not allowing myself a moment of regret until I am halfway down the hallway on my way back to my dorm.
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pantestudines · 5 months
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having a "former gifted kid" type mental spiral
#i say this because the spiral is actually about how much i hate the word and the general culture around giftedness#mostly because its incredibly inconsistent between schools so people often mean different things when they say it#but also because in my specific case its certainly not a gift but like. what am i supposed to call it.#its literally a neurodivergence in my case that has had many effect postive and negative on my life. but its also a school club.#and its also nothing! before the advent of like modern standardized public education i wouldve just been a curious kid#Without modern public education im not sure i wouldve even been different from other kids. maybe a little socially awkward still but idk#and like. Am i really different from other kids? am I now as an adult different from my peers? Occasionally i will get told as such#how the fuck am i suppose to talk about how much being seperated from my peers and held to higher standards sucked#when the name of the reason why this happened might as well be 'gods specialist little boy'#none of the things that make people think im smarter are really all that useful day to day. and most non-gifted people are like. still smar#i happen to be good at memorizing the kind of facts schools test you on as children#but is that just because i was told as a kid to be good at school and so i tried hard to do that?#even if I am uniquely good at that#does that really make me more intelligent than the high school dropouts who can fix cars like its nothing?#in fact i would say they are at least wiser than me for picking something practical to be smart at#at my school being gifted usually implied you were a little neurodivergent and bad at socializing#often our gifted kids were actually failing classes because they were smart enough to realize they didnt matter#(not me but still)#but at some schools being gifted just means you were an avid reader or were pressured by your parents to maintain perfect As at all times#so if i say. wanted to talk about how being 'gifted' has often made some aspects of academia like hating emails and having time blindness#and not having a good friend network and having many unadressed issues around not really knowing how to make friends#if i wanted to talk about that. and i say 'I was gifted growing up and this sucked'#the person on the other end might hear 'oh woe is me im so smart and this makes my life so hard'#AND FURTHER STILL#on tumblr especially 'former gifted kid' has kindve become parlance for 'guy whining about nothing'#or even 'person who they were told was smart but is actually kinda dumb'#which... yeah! theres a reason many former gifted kids are like that! thats kindve my issue with the program in the first place!#it takes otherwise relatively normal if well achieving kids and tells them they are gods specialist little children.#THIS CANNOT BE HELPFUL TO ANYONE? like whatever chance the kids had at seeming normal has been stripped away#and they now also think they are the smartest person in the room in every situation
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wonusite · 5 months
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The Thing About Pretty Boys
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❝ You’re convinced that pretty boy Seonghwa could never fuck anyone stupid. He decides to prove you wrong. ❞
PAIRING: park seonghwa x female reader
GENRE: friends to lovers au, smut
WORD COUNT: 4k
WARNINGS: pwp, repressed feelings, overuse of the word pretty (sorry not sorry), seonghwa is HUNG, cock drunk!reader, pussy drunk!seonghwa, mentions of anal, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, multiple creampies, backshots, squirting, dumbification, possessiveness, breeding kink, overstimulation
A/N: this has been long overdue, and i hope you guys like it! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!
“There’s no way.”
Your incredulous snort makes Seonghwa pause. He whips his head in your direction, pretty frown pulling down the corners of his mouth. You keep laughing, keeling over until your loose nightshirt starts to hang off one of your shoulders. The way you’re falling over like he said something hilarious is starting to irritate him. Like really fucking bad.
When you finally stop laughing, you notice the deep scowl your friend is directing at you. Even as he's directing a scornful glare at you, he looks unfairly pretty. The thought makes you huff out one last weak laugh. “What? Don’t give me that look.”
His jaw flexes, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “You believed fucking Mingi when he said the same thing.”
Your nonchalant shrug makes Seonghwa’s eye twitch in annoyance. He’s not offended, not exactly. It’s just the slightest bit irritating that he’s literally in your room, on your bed, alone, and you still can’t think of him in a way he desperately wants you to.
“Because it’s obvious that Mingi knows what he’s doing. Like, you can tell he’s a beast in bed.”
“And what makes you think I’m not?”
It’s weird that he’s so insistent on getting you to believe him. Seonghwa usually doesn’t care about what anyone thinks since he claims to know himself the best, so other people’s opinions don’t really matter. Apparently, he isn’t too different from all the other guys you’ve met. It’s kind of cute.
“I just— Who cares?” You splutter, suddenly feeling flustered with how he’s staring at you so intently.
“Tell me why.”
You nearly recoil in shock at how assertive and dominant Seonghwa sounds. His tone and hard eyes makes something inside you flutter with desire. Taken aback by your own indecent reaction, you clear your throat and avert your eyes back to the paused sex scene out of a movie you can't remember the name of.
If you could go back in time and pick a different movie that hadn’t started this entire thing, you would.
“Fine.” You sigh, willing yourself to calm down. “I just think that most pretty boys aren’t able to fuck anyone stupid. That’s all—it’s nothing personal.”
Oh, but it is.
To Seonghwa, who had pictured you writhing and screaming from pleasure under him way too many times to be considered normal, it’s definitely personal.
“I could fuck you stupid.”
His words hang in the air heavily. You expect him to give you that pretty, nonchalant smile of his and tell you that he’s joking. But he doesn’t. In fact, Seonghwa is looking at you with an unmistakable heat and determination in his gaze that has you feeling like prey.
“Whatever.” You force yourself to choke out a laugh, mind already wandering to what it would be like to fuck such a pretty man.
Seonghwa seems unfazed by your dismissal. He stands up from your bed before kneeling at the edge in front of where you’re sitting. You let out a shocked yelp when he grabs your bare legs and yanks you toward him. His eyes are dark as he gazes up at you like he’s going to devour you.
The heat coming from his hands and just having him nestled between your legs makes your cunt throb. It’s embarrassing how fast you’re getting turned on, but you blame it on the fact that it has everything to do that Seonghwa is just so damn pretty.
“H-Hwa.” You actually fucking whimper, sounding completely needy.
“Gonna let me prove it?” He smirks, hands gently caressing your thighs that are unconsciously spreading for him.
“Fine.” You try to sound like you aren’t already soaking, horny mess. “You have to hurry, though. Sannie’s gonna be back soon.”
Seonghwa nearly growls at the mention of your clingy roommate. He trails his hands up the soft skin of your thighs and grips the edges on your panties. You let out a scandalized gasp when he literally rips them off of you. He throws them over his shoulder before flipping up your oversized shirt and exposing your hot cunt to the air.
His groan makes you clench around nothing. Before you can say anything, Seonghwa yanks you forward and smashes his face into your wet pussy. Any and all coherent thoughts are quickly ejected from your mind. You let out a small moan when you feel your friend’s tongue split through your folds, tasting you for the first time.
“Fuck.” Seonghwa moans into your cunt. “I knew you would taste good.”
His words make your brain turn into literal mush because what the fuck? Had he been thinking about what it would be like to eat you out? The mere thought has more juices spilling out of you. Your body’s reaction only spurs Seonghwa on, his hands gripping your thighs tighter and pulling you further on his mouth.
You toss your head back with a moan. All you can feel is his tongue plunging deep inside you. Every time his nose bumps against your throbbing clit, it sends jolt of pleasure up your spine.
“S-Shit, Hwa.” You whimper, hands falling to his messy hair.
Seonghwa smirks into your pussy when you start to tug on his hair. He hums against your leaking hole before latching onto your swollen nub and suckling on it with a lewd slurping sound. Your cries of pleasure sound like music to his ears, and it makes him more determined to have you begging and crying for his cock. Seonghwa is sure your moans would sound even prettier when he’s actually splitting you open with his dick.
“So good.” You mewl as he keeps sucking on your aching bud. “K-Keep doing that.”
Seonghwa starts to plant sloppy kisses on your glistening folds before dragging his tongue up your slit. He repeats the action a few times before he sucks your puffy clit back into his mouth. The sight of your face twisting in pleasure is a sight he’ll never forget. To see the object of his fantasies writhing and shaking from pleasure has his cock straining in his pants, eager to be stuffed into your cunt.
You start to grind your pussy into his face as he keeps licking and fucking you with his tongue. His ravenous movements are like that of a starved man, and soon you feel your abdomen tighten with the need to release.
“I-I think I’m gonna come.” You moan, surprised that he managed to get you so close to an orgasm in such a short amount of time.
Seonghwa groans into your sopping cunt. “Do it, baby. Come all over my tongue. Let me taste you.”
You gasp out his name as a wave of pleasure suddenly washes over you. The tight coil in your stomach snaps as your walls become impossibly tight. Your moan is loud and wanton as you squirt all over your friend’s face.
Seonghwa’s moan sounds animalistic as he presses his tongue flat against your entrance, collecting all your sweet juices and slurping you dry. He’s practically making out with your pussy until there’s none of your addicting cream left to lap up.
“Mhm, baby. You taste so fucking good.”
You’re a trembling mess as he plants gentle kisses on your inner thighs before standing up, your juices covering his chin. The sight of you all fucked out because of him, makes the desire in his gut get more intense.
“Sorry.” You huff out, mind a bit more clear when you see him licking his lips. “I-I’ve– that usually doesn’t happen.”
To be exact, it’s never happened.
“I’ll forgive you.” He sounds sweet as he starts to unbuckle his belt. Seonghwa pulls his shirt off before pulling his pants down until he’s left in only his underwear, impressive bulge standing out. “But only if you do it again—on my cock this time.”
You can’t be mad that he looks so smug because he’s just so fucking pretty. He becomes even more attractive after sliding his underwear off and letting his big cock slap against his lower abdomen. The large organ is intimidatingly long and thick as it throbs and leaks with precum. Your mouth waters, and you can’t be surprised that his cock is a pretty as he is.
Unfortunately, you don’t get to admire it for too long because Seonghwa grabs you and flips you around. You’re propped up on your elbows and knees to support your weight, large shirt bunching at your waist as he arches your back to the angle he wants.
Seonghwa licks his lips as he squeezes and caresses your ass, leaking cock throbbing at the pretty sight of you all ready to get fucked. This is way better than any of his fantasies, and he hopes that this is only the first time of many.
“Such a pretty ass. Maybe you’ll let me fuck it next time.” His sultry voice has you dripping in desperation. “But for now, let’s see how much you can handle, baby.”
A needy, pathetic mewl tumbles out of you as Seonghwa presses his oozing tip against your entrance. He rubs and taps it against your folds, enjoying how you’re desperately rutting your hips back. Just minutes ago you were adamant that he wasn’t capable of getting this sort of reaction.
Your mouth drops open in pleasure when he slowly eases his cock into you. “O-Oh, fuck.” Your moan is weak as your eyes slowly close.
Seonghwa looks down to where his fat cock is pushing into your tightness, stretching you wider than ever before and claiming your pretty cunt as his. The sight is mesmerising, and he can’t stop the deep moan he lets out from it. His cock throbs wildly as he finally bottoms out. You’re so hot and tight that he might actually blow his load before he even gets the chance to fuck you properly.
His cock is hitting your deepest spot, and you let out a wanton moan as you tightly grip your sheets. “Fuck me!”
A carnal desire takes over Seonghwa when he hears your needy cry. He’s never been able to deny you anything, and he doesn’t plan to start now. Immediately, he begins to pummel in and out of you, fucking your sopping cunt roughly. Obscene noises fill the room as his pelvis slams against your ass.
Seonghwa can’t take his eyes off your pretty little pussy and how it swallows his cock so perfectly. His heavy balls are being stained with your arousal as they slap against your puffy clit. He becomes more ravenous with every rough thrust.
“You’re already soaking my cock, baby. I fucking knew you wouldn’t be able to get enough.” He grunts as he grabs your hips, quickly growing obsessed with how you feel around him.
It's true, and you can't deny it. Not that you want to. His cock is stretching you out so good that you can’t think straight.
“So fucking good.” You mewl as you deepen your arch so he can fuck you deeper.
One of Seonghwa’s hands trails down your body to squeeze your ass while the other goes around your waist to rub your sensitive clit. He pounds into you harder, loving the cries and whimpers you’re letting out every time he fucks his cock into your juicy cunt. You’re throwing yourself back on him to meet his thrusts, loving how his big cock splits you open with every snap of his hips.
“Gonna ruin this sweet little pussy so only I fit.” Seonghwa growls, spanking your ass harshly.
His words make you clench on his cock and coat it with more of your cream. You whine and cry out for him, already feeling any thoughts that aren’t about his big dick being fucked out of you. His hips start to snap with a rough precision you claimed he wasn’t capable of, and you wonder how longer it’ll take him to realize that he already proved you wrong.
Seonghwa feels your cunt start to tighten around his cock like it doesn’t want to let go. With the way you’re starting to tremble, he can tell you’re close to falling apart. But he wants to see your face when you do. It’s the thing he’s wanted the most since he met you.
You cry out in protest when Seonghwa abruptly pulls out his hard cock of your pussy. Before you can beg him to put it back in, he’s flipping you on your back. He gently caresses your shaking thighs with a heated gaze. Then, he’s removing the big shirt you have on, dark eyes taking in every inch of your exposed body.
“Hwa.” You plead through a needy mewl. “Don’t tease.”
The look on your face makes his cock throb painfully. You look absolutely fucked out, and to think he hasn’t even made you come yet. Seonghwa licks his lips and teases your soaking entrance with his leaking tip. His smirk is deviant, but so hot that all you can do is buck your hips desperately. Unlike your initial thoughts, your friend doesn’t make you wait.
It’s satisfying how Seonghwa’s jaw snaps open as he watches your pretty pussy slowly get filled with his thick cock. The erotic sight drives him to start fucking into you again. He lets out a deep groan when he sees your cream coat his entire length as you squeeze him tighter than anyone ever has.
Pleasure consumes you and licks up your entire body as Seonghwa pounds his cock into your hot cunt. Your moans turn into loud cries that mix into the lewd squelching coming from where you two are connected when he presses your legs to your chest. The new position allows him to fuck into you deeper than before.
All coherent thoughts are slowly dissipating every time his cock pounds against your sweet spot. A carnal desire takes over and has you begging for more through broken whimpers. “Fuh-Fuck. Fill me up, Hwa.”
The moan Seonghwa lets out is as pretty as he is. Your wanton pleas trigger something primal inside of him, and he feels himself going feral at the thought of breeding you.
“You want my cum, baby?” He coos sweetly, heavy balls slapping against your ass in sync with your wanton moans.
It’s embarrassing how fast you nod, back arching as you feel a wave of pleasure start to consume you. His cock is throbbing inside you, and all you can think about is milking him for all that he’s worth. “Want it so bad!”
“Fuck.” Seonghwa sucks in a sharp breath. “Pretty little pussy’s so tight for me.”
Your filthy moans are quickly stifled when Seonghwa bends down to kiss you. His movements are passionate and desperate, teeth tugging at your bottom lips. It feels like your brain has turned into static with all the euphoric sensations consuming you. All you can focus on is his cock splitting you open and the sounds of your skin slapping against his.
When Seonghwa pulls back, he maintains eye contact. As you stare into his eyes, you can see that they’re filled with an emotion that goes beyond lust and arousal. It makes your heart pound for an entirely different reason. His gentle stare is a great contrast to the rough snap of his hips.
That affectionate look is all it takes for you to squirt all over your friend once again. Your cry is loud as you cover his abdomen with your orgasm.
“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Make a mess all over me.” Seonghwa moans as he watches you go dumb on his cock.
The sight of your pretty face slack with pleasure has him fucking into your cervix savagely. Your cunt is gripping his cock so tightly that it doesn’t take long for him to release his thick load inside you. His thrusts grow sloppy as he starts to fill you with ropes of cum. Your soppy cunt is overflowing with so much of his seed that it bubbles around the base of his cock and leaks down to your ass—a filthy sight Seonghwa will never forget.
You’re both panting as he slowly lets go of your legs. Seonghwa watches you carefully, but doesn’t make a move to pull out of you. He wants to keep you plugged and full of his cum, and by how you slowly wrap your legs around his waist, it seems like you feel the same way.
When you come back to your senses, you nervously lick your lips when you see Seonghwa’s smirk. “What?”
“You’re a squirter?” His words sound teasing.
“N-No.” You pant out, unsure of how to tell him he’s the only one capable of evoking such a reaction from your body.
Apparently, your friend only sees this as another one of your challenges. He caresses your soft thighs as a challenging look crosses his face.
“Do it again.”
Seonghwa starts to move again, his aching cock sliding against your walls with ease as he fucks his cum deeper inside you. He unhooks your legs from his waist so he can place them on his shoulders. From this angle he can see your filthy cunt being split open on his thick cock.
“I can’t.” You manage to moan out, loving how his dick drags against your velvety walls with precision. “God, Hwa. I-It’s too much.”
“You say that, but your pretty little pussy keeps squeezing my cock like it doesn’t want to let go.” He says as his thumb starts to rub slow circles on your throbbing clit. “I’m sure you can squirt for me again if I give you another load, hm?”
Seonghwa’s smirk is cocky when he feels your cunt tighten around him again. He loves how you don’t deny it. In fact, you whine out a quiet more as he continues to fuck you. His thumb is still stimulating your puffy bud as his hips snap into you. Clearly, your friend is enjoying fucking you to the point of delirium. You can’t complain because you’re enjoying it just as much.
“Tight little cunt was made to take my cock.” He grunts as his eyes start to roll to the back of his head.
You can’t fathom how it feels like he knows your body more than you do. His cock keeps ramming against your g-spot, and all you can do is let out moans and mewls of pleasure. You’re sure it won’t be long until you come again.
A ring of white cream surrounds the base of his cock and slowly drips down his balls and on to the sheets. Seonghwa knows you won’t ever be able to forget how good he’s fucked you, and he also knows that he’s potentially ruined you for any other man. Not that he would let you go after feeling your pussy.
“God, baby. Your sweet pussy’s already gonna make me come again.” Seonghwa groans, thrusts becoming tougher and sharper. “Gonna let me come inside again?”
“Yes!” You squeal, already gone dumb again. “Come inside me!”
The overstimulation has lewd and filthy sounds coming out of you, but you can’t help it. Especially not when you look down and see how his big cock is piercing into your tight cunt. You gasp and jolt as he continues to ram into you like you’re nothing more than a hole. Your legs start to tremble as your third orgasm abruptly hits you.
Like the two previous times, your toes curl as you uncontrollably squirt on his cock.
“Such a good girl.” Seonghwa praises you with his pretty smile. “Here’s your reward.”
He slams into you a few more time before he spills his thick seed inside you, filling you to the brim. Your eyes roll back as your pussy contracts around Seonghwa’s pulsing cock. The feeling of his hot cum filling your insides is so fucking good that all you can do is mewl his name weakly and pathetically. It feels like your mind is clouded with a euphoric haze preventing you from thinking straight.
Soon, Seonghwa pulls out of your creamy cunt, his cum dripping out of you and staining the sheets beneath you. His eyes darken at the sight of your sensitive folds covered with his seed. A low growl builds in his chest as he swoops down to smash his lips on to yours. You moan into his mouth as he parts your lips with his tongue to deepen the kiss.
When he pulls away from you, he gives you another lascivious smirk. “We’re not done yet, baby.”
It shouldn’t excite you this much that he’s not done. You’re literally dripping with his cum, but you still want more. His hard, throbbing cock is resting against your sloppy pussy, and you start to gyrate your hips to get him to fuck you again. Maybe you’re already addicted, but it doesn’t matter because Seonghwa seems to feel the exact same way.
A quiet moan rips from your throat when he starts to fuck his cock between your messy lips. You cry out from the sensation, still sensitive from the other orgasms he’s ripped out of you. Slowly and teasingly, Seonghwa drags the tip of his fat cock down to your entrance, moaning when more of his cum seeps out of you. The sight is something he’ll never forget and always try to recreate.
The noises you let out are so cute and needy that they make his cock throb painfully. Seonghwa slowly eases into you for a third time, base of his heavy cock touching your core and big balls resting against your ass. Your pussy is pulsing around him as you leak with your mixed releases.
You can feel Seonghwa’s cock so deep inside you that it’s dizzying and almost comparible to being drunk. Vaguely, you think this is what it must be like to be cockdrunk.
“So fucking pretty. All for me.” Seonghwa groans hotly.
The breath is almost knocked out of you as he drags his dick back before ramming it back into the depths of your wet pussy. He begins to pound into you, the sound of skin on skin quickly filling the room.
Seonghwa stares down at your pretty face while he fucks you into oblivion, making sure to memorize every aspect. From the way your eyes roll into your skull when he spears his big cock into you to how your jaw falls slack so quickly. It’s all for him, and he knows he wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world.
“S-Seonghwa!” You squeal, toes curling and limbs starting to tremble.
The familiar sensation gets worse as your friend continues to fuck into your guts, stroking your walls with his thick cock. He’s slamming into your sweet spot with a savage like pace that you know it won’t be long before you fall apart again.
“That’s it, baby. Cream all over my cock.” Seonghwa groans as you mewl at his filthy words.
As if his voice and words are a trigger, your body starts to react. His harsh thrusts make you start to convulse, effectively soaking his cock. As if it’s all you’re capable of giving him, you weakly come on his aching dick with a choked moan. Your tits are bouncing with every thrust, body twitching as Seonghwa roughly fucks you through your orgasm.
“Want your cum.” You mewl, and Seonghwa simply begins to fuck you quicker.
“Don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna pump you full until you’re leaking with my cum for days.” Seonghwa promises through possessive growls as he sloppily fucks into your soiled cunt.
Seonghwa suddenly stills deep inside your pussy, spilling his hot seed inside of you. Thick, white ropes of cum paint your walls until it leaves his cock dripping. He nearly slumps on top of you, but then he rolls over and onto his back, taking you with him. His cock stays inside you, keeping you plugged with his many loads.
“How are you feeling?” The soft voice you recognize is back as Seonghwa gently caresses your naked back.
You sigh into his neck, feeling completely sated. “Full.”
His pretty laugh makes you smile, and you can’t help but think that Mingi was right when he told you that thing about pretty boys.
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bimbobaggins69 · 7 months
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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌.
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virgin eddie munson x experienced fem reader
summary: you go into the boys locker room with a plan to steal the polaroids your now ex boyfriend took of you to show off to his friends, but the last thing you suspected was to be met with Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson and his very big friend.
warnings: smut ahead, 18+ minors dni, no use of y/n (use of pet names), non consensual sharing of nudes, reader technically cheats, big dick eddie, slight fingering, oral (m receiving) unprotected p in v, cream pie, fluffff.
authors note: I feel like I haven’t written a one shot in awhile, so…hope you like. As always thank you to my lovely beta’s @take-everything-you-can & @xxhellfiregirlxx <3
wc: 3.4k
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You are fuming, absolutely seething with rage.
You couldn't believe your boyfriend, scratch that ex boyfriend would do this to you. How could someone swear to be ‘so in love’ with you but turn around and do this? It just didn’t make sense, but you only have yourself to blame.
All of your friends warned you about Andy, said he was a pig and would just use you as another notch for his belt, but you wanted to believe you were different or that maybe you could’ve changed him. Instead you allowed him to take very x-rated polaroids of you, that he in turn showed to all of his basketball buddies, who told their cheerleader girlfriends, who then told you he’d spent all of gym bragging and showing them off in the locker room.
So…you’d devised a very impulsive and hell bent plan; while they were all outside running the annual mile, you decided you would sneak into the locker room, find Andy's locker, then you would break into it and steal the polaroids back. It was a fool proof plan… or so it seemed in your frenzy of rage.
But as you walk into the quiet, cold, sterile room filled with green lockers. You quickly realize you're not alone.
“Oh my god!”
“Oh fuck!”
Was said in unison as you and Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson locked eyes, but they didn't stay connected for long as yours roamed his body, all the way down to the biggest cock you had ever seen in your life. Not that you’ve seen so many, but you’ve had your fair share of hook ups and I mean c’mon you're not a prude, you do watch porn.
But, even so… his cock was still bigger than anything you’ve come in contact with, albeit on screen and off.
“I’m so sorr–”
“What are you do-”
You both say again, voices overlapping as Eddie catches the wide eyed stare you're giving his flaccid manhood.
He quickly covers himself with his hands, his cheeks pinkening in embarrassment.
Eddie was rather dense when it came to his size, considering he was a virgin and he’s been using the locker room while it was empty since he started at Hawkins High, not wanting to give the jocks anymore fuel for their relentless fire. He didn’t have much to compare it to, nor did he want to participate in any dick measuring contests. The only porn he had hidden under his bed were his dirty fantasy magazines but all the dicks in there were monster cocks, literally.
“What are you doing in here?” Eddie huffed in annoyance as your eyes continued to burn a hole into his now covered groin.
“I um, I–” You couldn't even find the words to explain why you were in the boy’s locker room, not one that would make any sense to him, anyway.
“You what, huh? Spit it out.” Eddie didn’t mean to snap at you, but he was already in a foul mood. He had been present when Andy was showing off your goods to his ogling friends, who all agreed he was a ‘lucky guy’.
Eddie patiently waited for them all to retreat out and onto the track so he could finally shower and get dressed back into his all black attire. Eddie, oh lovesick Eddie had been nursing a mammoth sized crush on you since your freshman year. So, to say he couldn't help but roll his eyes and clench his fists at not only the thought of all these other dudes getting to see you, but also the fact that you even picked a shit stain like Andy Clayton to give an ounce of your time to, really pissed him off.
“I came to try and get something back from my ex.” You bashfully murmur as your eyes once again find the metalheads.
A remorseful look passes over Eddie's face at your revelation, as you both continue to stare at each other you quickly notice his wet hair has been dripping down onto his tattooed chest, the scene makes your breath hitch and you want so badly to clench your thighs from the heat that's been ignited in your center.
Eddie’s confidence begins to grow as he notices the flush of your cheeks and the way your breathing went ragged as your eyes wandered.
“Ya’ know, if i didn't know any better i'd say you’re checking me out?” He declares with a cocky smirk.
“What? I-I’m not-” You stutter before shutting your eyes tight, as if it’d shield you of your utter humiliation. You quickly exhale in an attempt to rid yourself of the mix of arousal and embarrassment that has simultaneously filled your body.
“Okay, I was… but I didn’t mean to, I'm sorry.” You whisper as your eyes meander the tiles under your black loafers and white slouch socks.
“You didn't mean to check out my dick?” Eddie says in bewilderment as his brows raise, disappearing behind his shaggy, wet bangs.
He’s surprised he has the confidence to stand so close to you with his dick literally in his hand, but watching you stutter and squirm has got to be the highlight of his whole high school career.
Well this and that time he, Gareth and Jeff left that flaming bag of shit on Mr. Higgins doorstep. Yeah, watching that old fuck struggle to put out a burning bag filled with dog shit was definitely up there.
“I mean, I did mean to, it’s just– nevermind, I'm sorry. I’ll leave.” Your words fly out of your mouth before you begin to turn and leave, back out the way you came without fulfilling the mission you were on just five minutes ago.
You didn’t even make it two steps before Eddie was gently grabbing your bicep, his hands no longer covering his cock that now grows hard between his scrawny thighs.
“It’s just what?…Color me curious sweetheart.” He says as his calloused fingers slowly run down your arm and back to his side.
Sweetheart, you liked hearing him call you that. Jesus, what is happening?
“Well um, your dicks like really big.” You say as your eyes fall back to his package, you lick your lips at the sight of it twitching at your words.
“Really?” The way he questions you is confusing because there is absolutely no way he doesn’t know he’s hung like a goddamn horse.
“You’re joking right? You’re gonna act like you don’t know your cock is massive?” You say with a tilt of your head.
His eyebrows shoot back up in amusement, the cocky smile on his face a complete rival to his rapidly beating heart.
You move closer into his space, looking up into his innocent looking doe eyes.
Eddie Munson is anything but innocent, right? I mean he sells drugs for fuck sake! You’ve even heard about him grabbing a cheerleader's tit during a drug deal, of course she was trying to get him to lower the price, but still…well now that you come to think of it, that's really the only sexual thing you’ve heard about him. There’s no way he could be a… yeah right.
“Can I ask you a question?” You whisper as you move in even closer, moving a now damp, stray strand of hair behind his reddening ear.
“S-sure.” He whimpers when your long nails lightly scratch down his jaw, which he quickly covers with a cough.
You bit at your lips trying to hold back a giggle at the noise that went straight between your legs.
Okay, fuck those pictures! What better way to get over a guy than to get under a new one…right? Especially one your ex hates…who has a huge cock…I mean this shits a no brainer… you’re gonna fuck Eddie Munson.
“Are you a virgin?” You question sweetly as you ‘innocently’ play with the hem of your plaid dress, the white turtleneck underneath making your already hot and bothered body, burn more with the intense electricity radiating between the both of you.
“I uh, how’d you know?” He sighs as his shoulders drop in exasperation, not at you but at himself for being so fucking obvious.
“Well, with that third leg I never would’ve guessed…but you have this innocence in your eyes that’s kinda telling.” You giggle as your eyes meet his still hard cock, and all you wanna do now is wrap your hand around it and watch him lose his mind.
Eddie throws his head back and laughs into the open air of the now humid locker room. He whispers third leg to himself, nodding his head as if he was hearing that term for the first time. He was.
“Do you wanna stay a virgin, Eddie?” You whisper as the tips of your fingers gently trail over the patch of hair on his lower stomach, just above the spot your hand is aching to touch, that he’s aching for you to touch.
Two things in this moment make the metalhead equally lose his mind, he might actually cum untouched if he’s being honest. Your hand is so close to his throbbing cock, just a few centimeters down and you’d be brushing against his pink, sensitive tip. And hearing you say his name. Wait, you know his name.
That alone is an aphrodisiac for him.
“No, I-I don’t.” He admits before swallowing hard, his damp Adam's apple bobbing at the motion.
“Can I kiss you?” He surprises himself as the question leaves his mouth.
“Please.” you whine with desperation, making Eddie groan as his lips find yours in a frenzy.
Your fingers slowly trail down, finally wrapping your dainty hand around the sheer girth and length that is Eddie’s cock.
Another whimper falls from between his pretty lips, but this time it's unashamed and without a cough to cover it up. No, he wants you to hear what you’re doing to him.
“That feel good, baby?” You murmur into his mouth between the smacks that echo off the barren walls.
“Fuck, yeah mhm, it does.” He rushes out awkwardly, making you giggle into the kiss.
He wraps his arms around you, in an air of confidence and pulls you in closer, chests now flush as your hand continues to softly tug at his cock.
“Do you wanna fuck me, Eddie?” You whisper as you lean your forehead against his, wet bangs be damned.
“I’ve wanted to fuck you for a very long time, princess.” He admits without much thought.
You break away from him, eyes boring into his as you take in his confession. You step back and Eddie’s heart shatters as he curses himself for opening his big, stupid mouth and scaring you off. But before he could get down on his knees and grovel for you to just ignore him and stay, keep paying attention to him. You take his hand and lead him to the wooden bench towards the back of the locker room.
He follows you like a lost puppy before you’re gently pushing at his chest, a silent instruction for him to sit down. He quickly takes the hint, clumsily plopping down onto the stiff wooden bench.
He looks to you for direction, those innocent eyes blinking up at you and goddammit if it doesn't chip away at the walls your now ex boyfriend has helped you build. But, that's a thought for another day.
You fall to your knees, cold tiles digging into your skin as you wrap your hand back around his cock in a wildness that you’d never felt for any of your previous partners.
“Holy shit.” Eddie spits out in disbelief. This has to be a wet dream, there's absolutely now way this is happening to him…he’s never this lucky, and in typical eddie cynicism, he looks around to make sure no one is filming or waiting to pop out and laugh at him or better yet, to tell him this was all some elaborate prank, get the freak all riled up just to leave him high and dry.
The thought is quickly extinguished when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, gently sucking before you're removing your soft, pillowy muscles that are now coated in his precum, you alluringly flick your tongue across them gathering it all, just to get a good taste of him. His soul just about leaves his body and you've barely even started.
You take him back into your mouth, but this time without mercy as you relax your throat, slowly moving down inch by delicious inch as you try not to gag, his tip now bullying your uvula like his own personal punching bag.
“Oh, oh fuck, please. I-I…” He stammers as his hands flex and clench beside him, too afraid to run his fingers through your hair like he so badly wants to.
You fuck his aching cock into your throat, bobbing your head up and down, over and over before you’re popping off of him, placing a sweet kiss to his tip then standing back up onto your feet, your knees burning from the pressure that was placed on them, red indents now take their place leaving very little mystery as to what you’ve just done.
“I need your cock so bad Eddie.” You moan into his mouth before kissing him, it’s deep and needy and you never want to kiss anyone else like this for as long as you live.
“Use me, please. J-just fuck, just use me pretty girl.” Eddie whimpers, before he begins attacking your neck, sucking hard before soothing the skin with his tongue. You couldn’t care less if he leaves marks, in fact you want him to mark you up, make you his.
You thread your hand into his still damp hair, pushing him closer as he begins to suck at a particularly sensitive spot, just below your ear.
Eddie places one last tender kiss there, before he removes his face from your neck. He confidently lifts the hem of your dress up and over the tops of your thighs, exposing your slick soaked, red panties. The metalhead swipes a finger over the thin, lace fabric that clings to your hips.
“Can I take these off?” He asks as his eyes continue to bore into the growing wet patch in the center of your covered slit.
“Mhm.” A high pitch whine escapes from the depths of your throat at how harshly he tore them off from between your legs. Needy boy.
“Fuckin’ aye.” Eddie murmurs to himself at the sight of your glistening cunt right in front of him, so pretty and wet just for him. He wanted to run his fingers through the damp, trimmed coils on your mound but quickly decided against it, he didn’t want you thinking that was weird.
“H-have you ever seen a pussy before?” You chirp up, bashful as you grab his hand and move it towards your soaked slit.
He clears his throat before answering- “just in magazines.” He admits as his cheeks tinge a pretty shade of pink.
He’s embarrassed by his revelation, but you can’t help but think that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard.
You work his fingers through your slit, rubbing at your own clit with his hand and it all just fuels that fire growing deep in your belly.
“Oh!” You moan as your eyes gently roll back, you swipe his finger through your wetness again, “you feel that? Feel how wet you make me Ed’s?” You whisper as your eyes now hold his.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful! I-I need to fuck you or im gonna cum. You can’t just talk to me like that, princess.” He mutters as he loses all resolve, not that he had much to begin with.
“Yes, sir.” You whisper into his ear before you’re placing a gentle kiss there. You turn around, hand grabbing onto his still hard cock, you lower yourself into his lap, pink tip already prodding at your hole as your back becomes flush with his chest, you lay your head back against his shoulder and burrow it into his neck, both of you moaning in unison as you sink onto him, slowly.
He’s so big it’s like he's ripping you in half, but you welcome the burn. The pleasure and pain of it all makes your cunt drip even more, further creating less pain and a whole lot more pleasure.
“Mmf.” Eddie moans into the side of your face, as you’re finally seated flush in his lap, cock buried deep inside your aching pussy, you clench around the intrusion, making Eddie gasp and whine.
You smile back at him before you’re doing it again.
“Fuck, do you want this to be over before it starts? Huh?” He says threw his teeth, as he grabs your chin to reprimand you. And you want nothing more than to play further into that dynamic.
Andy was a shit lay compared to this, Eddie Munson a virgin is fucking you better than your ex, and if that doesn’t speak volumes as to how the relationship was. The thought makes you feel stupid.
Before you can fester anymore on your dumb mistake, Eddie begins to fuck up into you, all his patience seeping through the air vents that you now realize are on and blowing, creating a chill throughout the room and goosebumps to trickle over your body.
His big hands grab at your waist, roughly bouncing you up and down on his cock as he follows the same rhythm. You’re both moaning into each other's mouths as you bring your hand to the nape of his neck and holding on, as you get absolutely railed in the boys locker room.
Not only is the location turning you on but the thought of being caught by anyone, especially Andy, has got your cunt dripping and making a mess of the metalheads balls.
“Shit, you’re so wet and warm and so fucking tight, baby.” Eddie huffs as his words begin to spill out with no filter, theres no fucking way he can think about what he’s saying before he says it with you clenching around him like that.
“I remember the first time I fucked my fist thinking about you; you wore that little jean skirt with those fucking red cowboy boots a-and the tightest little white shirt, I could see your nipples perfectly. Didn't even bother to wear a bra, just wanted everyone to see, didnt you? Mmm, bad girl.” He starts his confession out whiney and whimpering until he gets to the bad girl with a growl and an extra hard snap of his hips that make your eyes cross in complete carnal delight.
“That’s so fu-ucking hot that you think about me when you jack off, fuck.” You stutter as your body continues to be used as Eddie’s personal little fuck toy.
“Yeah? But I don’t have to do that anymore do I? You’re gonna let me fuck this tight little cunt whenever I want, aren’t you baby?” The confident rasp in his voice is a complete 360 to the awkward, innocent boy he was just seconds ago. But, the way your pussy tightens around him tells him you fucking love it, so he files that information away for next time.
“Yes, yes whenever you want Eddie!” You wail as your legs begin to shake, your cunt clenching around him as your nails dig into his thighs that continue to slap up into the backs of yours. The sounds were filthy, but they egged you both on as your highs so quickly approached.
“Ed- I’m cumming, oh my god!” You sob, fully convinced someone has had to have heard you both by now. But you don’t care, how could you when the most intense pleasure was coursing through your body, turning you into a twitching mess.
“Fuck, me too baby, wher-” He doesnt even get to finish, before you’re begging him to cum inside you. Of course he obliges, eyes rolling back into his head and cock throbbing as his heavy load shoots deep inside you.
“Goddammit.” He whispers into your neck after you've both come down from your panting highs. The breath he exhales tickles you, making you giggle. His arms wrap around your front, holding you tightly before burrowing his head deeper into the skin between your jaw and clavicle, he blows a raspberry and you can't help the shriek that leaves your mouth as he continues to tease you.
“So, you want help getting those pictures back?”
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sylhea-raemi · 1 year
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and what if nero thinks of himself as a tool for the three magicians he knew for a decade. what if he only limits as himself as a pawn, what if that's why he so easily threw himself as a sacrifice to protect his friends.
#im giving myself pain because i just know maydare would diverse from this#nero knew his worth but as a prince rather than as himself. he have SO MUCH trust on his familiar that it will bring rescue to his team#kanon told nero why he saved him and told him about the future war just when he was 6 years old. he kept that in mind and what his life is#for. kanon literally told nero that he's gonna be a necessary pawn in the future lmao?? kanon who had gone through so much could not care#less for some ordinary people ig since he was so detached from emotions... he's straightforward to nero and nero took it pretty well?????#ANYWAY rereading nero.... nero didn't seem to mind dying??????? like what the hell boy????????? he's not freaking out about himself#dying at all. rather he's concerned for the things happening around him and the people worrying about him????#'beatrice saw me and let out a small cry. did i look that bad?' YOU'RE IN A STATE OF DYING. NERO YOU WERE STABBED.#IN DIFFERENT PARTS OF YOUR BODY. A CURSE IS SPREADING IN YOUR BODY. NERO???#'What was i doing/ thinking about things so detachedly when it hurt so much that it felt like i was going to die' YOU😭#he knows he can't die here. he know he have so many things left to do.#this entire time he's fighting through the curse he did not say anything. the only words he uttered was makia's name. his concern for her.#he felt like he can't die without confirming if she's okay. once he knew that she's already he felt relieved that his vision is turning#white. nero what the fuck omg. i know he's been fighting off the curse the best he can and he's getting tired but nero oh my god#be concerned for yourself boy#for ten years he don't value himself as himself but rather someone who is a pawn for this world and the three magicians.#he's well aware of the purpose of his life. he's already set to serve those three magicians specially kanon for saving him and teaching him#various of things. also what was shatoma saying what did she mean#'What? I merely did what i could do for you wou didn't need any help.' what do you mean#first off i wanna point out the way she replied to nero's apology and thanks 'i merely did what i could do for you' i don't know how to#describe it but it feels like she was familiar with him in a fond way?? that added with 'who didn't need any help' she knows what he's#capable of and i think shatoma knows he can overcome it by himself? but my boy is like. gonna pass out. i think she's genuinely worried lol#each magician had something to do this volume- eska had to go find makia and thor and bring them to ulysses#ulysses makia and thor had to release pan faunus while eska puts up the defense. shatoma could've gone with eska or with kanon but no#she went to where the rest were- it's probably to check on the people in the labyrinth.. i want to know if she knew about nero's injuries..#oh that reminds me- shatoma is in lune ruschia's uniform so she's probably in the labyrinth before nero frey and lapis came back#she and eska probably arrived *after* nero makia and frey went out to find lapis#eska goes to find makia and thor while shatoma went in the labyrinth before gt9 came back#🦋'...Kanon? He's going where he needs to go.' in which nero thought 'So Brother's on the move.'........... he knows he knows..#shatoma trust nero enough to know how capable he is.. maybe she even trust him enough to let him know about their plans since he's
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sutorus · 7 months
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✰ HC: BEING IN A SITUATIONSHIP WITH THE JJK F*CKBOYS
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DESCRIPTION: my hcs on what it’d be like to be in a situationship/fwb situation with the jjk men hehe
FEATURED: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji
WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. fem + afab reader, this is fully self indulgent i'm just taking my own shiddy experiences and coping via hot anime men, suggestive content/smut, pretty standard manwhore behavior, slightly toxic, not wholesome, kinda crack tbh, some mentions of degradation as a kink, objectifying women, just like the real thing lol!
A/N: LONG BUT READ! this will Not have an ending where you get together at least not rn these are just my hcs all in good fun ur just having fun ok ur not heartbroken everything is okay. they are not good boys here they are normal regular boys
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GOJO SATORU
has way too many hoes. way too many
so much so that he gave up on remembering their names and just saves their numbers like “osaka w the hand kink”, “big tits shibari”, “slut from trig”, “hostess best bjs”
has someone’s boobs with his name written on them in sharpie as his wallpaper
says i love you when he cums inside and you never know if you should believe it
throws you off when he agrees to meet your friends only for him to flirt with them in front of you
takes you to the best clubs with bottle service, lets the girls sit on his lap and laughs when you get mad
pays for your ubers everywhere every time
into the weirdest shit like wearing your underwear laughing like a lunatic the whole time he’s fucking you then after he cums gets sulky and embarrassed
lays it on thick with the pet names, gives zero fucks if that confuses you even further
very public with you and it makes you wonder how many other girls put themselves through this humiliation just for the d
gets jealous about you being with other people and needs to prove himself by eating it from the back or something
fwb with gojo is just a huge mindfuck honestly he doesn’t take anything seriously and this is no different sorry! it’s fun tho!
GETO SUGURU
keeps it extremely platonic because he likes to tell himself he has a conscience
too busy for regular chit chat ignores your texts all day then hits you up when he wants to fuck
even more of a whore than gojo is which is why he makes sure not to lead anyone on he just does not need the trouble
answers all your personal questions about him with one word answers
he lets you choose the movie for netflix and chill at least! but will never remember it or the fact that it’s your favorite :(
cleans you up after sex and brings you water
has female hygiene products in his bathroom which is both a red and a green flag
lets you stay after sex and you just lay there on his bed watching him do stuff on his computer but he will not be talking to you
never calls you baby or anything when he’s fucking you just goes oh fuck yeah right there fuuuuck your pussy
genuinely respects you and has nice decent sex with you unless you tell him that you’re kinky
in which case he fucks you just how you want it and gets off on how turned on you are
not one of those guys who gets jealous of sex toys and holds the wand on your clit for you
likes to make you cum over and over and over again
fwb with geto makes your heart clench because he’s just such a gentleman but you got way too much competition to even think about it
NANAMI KENTO
a professional in every sense of the word
uses sex as stress relief
thinks he's too old for this shit but you make him feel alive so he fucks you like he can empty all of his frustrations into you
invites you to his apartment serves you expensive liquor and lets you initiate things most times unless he’s too pent up
can actually have very nice conversations with you
never has the “what are we talk” because he makes it clear he’s too busy for a relationship
lets you spend the night if it’s too late but solely for your safety/logistics
does your taxes for you but will not call you anything beyond an “acquaintance”
texts you happy holidays but does not know when your birthday is
gets tested consistently even though he’s not fucking anyone else and always uses a condom unless you beg him not to
eats you out because he thinks it’s relaxing and spends hours prepping you
the sexual tension is soooo thick when you two fuck all you can hear is grunts and growls and moans and wet slapping sounds and it’s so hot
has some random turn ons like gets bricked up when you’re wearing lipstick or stockings
fwb with nanami is very enjoyable and easy it’ll get complicated if you develop feelings because he does not want to date but who cares yolo am i right
FUSHIGURO TOJI
broke ass deadbeat dad why are you into him
absolutely nasty sex
you know if he had a girlfriend he’d respect her too much to do the things he does to you
dick game so bomb that you’re scared he’s gonna give you a child even when he’s wearing a condom
wants to fuck you every way he possibly can on every fuckable surface with zero regard for your physical integrity
eats his cum right out of you
ego is so big, grins so wide and fucks you so hard when you stroke his muscles
loves to eat pussy but only after he’s fucked you because he likes it tight and hot with minimal prep
doesn’t follow you on any social media but jerks off to your instagram pics
has like 3 different phone numbers and you don’t know why
has only let you come over once, didn’t let you shower after
no pet names but calls you a dirty whore and other degrading shit
loves it if you cry on his dick
doesn’t give a fuck about your safety sorry you’re on your own
has never told you his last name
one time you asked to see a picture of his son and he didn’t speak for 3 whole minutes
fwb with toji is the nastiest sex you’ve ever had truly it’s just sinful and everyone’s dark hidden fantasy half of it you couldn’t tell your closest friends because it’s just too much
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a/n sorry
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agustdtown1 · 8 days
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FOREVER GRATEFUL | JJK
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PAIRING: jeon jungkook x fem!reader.
SUMMARY: jeon jungkook was a man like no other, one that cared for you and your sinful needs more than he should, and for that you will forever be grateful.
WC: 5.6k
WARNINGS: age gap, jungkook’s older than reader (although there’s no mention of a specific age), their relationship is not the healthiest but they manage, jk’s line of work is not specified but it is hinted that it’s illegal, small (very small) mention of blood, pet names (doll, princess, pretty girl…), it is hinted —and mentioned, that reader doesn’t have much experience about sex, smut, pwp (porn with plot because I got carried away, but only here and there), restraining, blindfolding, unprotected sex (be better), fingering, light choking, biting, marking, name calling (slut, dumb), jk cumming inside reader, i kinda rushed the end so it’s not that good tbh. 18+ only!
A/N: so… this is my first time writing for the boys since I created my account, I hope this is not as bad as I think it is and that you can enjoy your reading. Lmk what you think and also, english is not my first language so if there’s any grammar/spelling mistakes pls just ignore them <3!
masterlist
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“Stay still.”
A husky voice rang into your ears, making a feeling as warm as the sun start to spread through your whole body; an electrifying sensation running through your veins, while goosebumps found solace on your skin. His voice has always been your favorite sound. The raspiness and low register adorning the man’s voice often got you weak in the knees, whenever he would whisper to you or call your name. And this time was no different, however, it seemed to have a stronger power over you. As magnetic as the voice of a siren, pulling the unlucky sailors out of the safety of their boats and into the depths of the cold water of the ocean; ready to devour them in such a frenzy that the last thing you could hear from the poor men was the start of a plea that would forever be unfinished.
Regardless of the difference between scenarios, the comparison seemed to be fitting. Jeon Jungkook was often described as magnetic, with the words alluring and charming following not so far behind. It would explain why you were found in such an interesting predicament at the moment.
A chill breeze brushing over your warm, bare skin, snapped you out of your wandering thoughts. The indication was short and simple. Discard your clothes from the very first moment you walk into the room and wait for him in bed. And so, your body, as many times before, was left completely exposed to Junkook’s hungry eyes; moreover, his eagerness to devour you was crystal clear, not daring to hide his fervent desire of having another taste of your sweet body. Watching you like a predator would to its prey.
His hands were tingling with excitement, for the future adventure both of you would go through, in a matter of minutes. Tonight, like many others, was dedicated solely to you, to your enjoyment; for you to, once again, discover a part of yourself that has yet to see the morning sun and yet to taste the deliciousness of the unknown. A new experience, a new journey, a brand new feeling for you to replay over and over again in your head, during those painfully lonely nights, when you could only find calmness in the feather-like touch of your fingers, running through your needy and greedy body.
Jungkook, however, knew exactly what he was doing by making you wait until your breaking point, waiting for a whine to fall from your precious lips, or for your desperate hand to reach out to him, whatever happens first, but in a silent plea for even a sliver of his attention. He had memorized every gesture, every reaction, every movement you would do, and it entertained the man more than it should.
“You’re tense.” Jungkook pointed out, easing the knots in your shoulders with his skillful hands. “What’s gotten you this aggravated, princess?”
It was the mocking tone, the graceful touch, or even his inviting eyes; whatever it was, it served as a decisive factor to push yourself forward and wrap your arms around his empty neck, like a snake would with its prey; hard and firm.
Desperate hands were first, then.
“You.” An answer was uttered, yet there was a lack of reaction from the man in front of you.
“Could’ve fooled me.” Jungkook taunted, acknowledging the power he had over you. “But don’t think I have forgotten the order I gave you.”
It left you confused for a good second, before his strong hands reached out for yours, stripping himself off from your needy touch.
“Stay still.” Jeon ordered once again, smirking once you obeyed.
You knew better than to challenge him, knowing that your safest option was to follow his instructions with no objection, if you wanted to get your awaited reward, that is.
Who would have thought that you’d be so accustomed to this routine. If asked, then give. If given, then be grateful for it.
The older man has improved your sex life in a matter of a few months, introducing your inexperienced self to the wonders of healthy and eccentric intercourse. Jungkook has proven to you many times in the span of a few months that your negative expectations of sex were granted by your poorly skilled sexual partners. Never once experiencing a dull moment since you were left in the dangerous hands of Jeon Jungkook.
If asked, then give. If given, be grateful.
Just like a believer would with whatever God sets in their path. Just like a kid would when a gift was left under the Christmas tree. You were grateful. It was easy to be. For it was gratefulness that had been installed within you from the moment yours and Jungkook’s paths have crossed.
Nonetheless, as grateful as you were, the hesitation in the back of your head didn’t seem to want to leave. The more Jungkook gave you, the more you wondered if you deserved it. But it reasoned with you that the true cause for your indecisiveness was the premise under which your relationship with the tattooed man had developed.
They don’t make men like him anymore, it’s what your friend had told you when she first introduced you to him, and it scared you. It frightened you that your only option to survive in such a cruel world was to cling to a man that was yet to explain what his line of work was. But then again, you didn’t want to know.
If Jungkook came back from work, looking unkempt and exhausted it was none of your business. That blood stain has always been on his shirt for all you knew. His sketchy friends have never once disrespected you, and that was enough for the time being. If he has broken the law, you don't need to know.
You would never know.
If asked, then give. If given, be grateful. If grateful, show it.
That’s a matter in which you could actually participate. In fact, it’s the way you were taught to be for the past few months.
You earn what you’re given, so show manners and be thankful.
Don’t question, just take. A mindset that has gotten you to where you were right now. In the bedroom of, by far, the most dangerous man in all Korea. Yet, not once has your well-being been threatened, and for that you're grateful.
And you're about to show it.
“You deserve it.” Jungkook reminded you before straying away to roam through his drawers.
The anticipation was killing you. Your eager eyes couldn’t see past his bare and muscular back facing you. Jeon thrived on the way your lustful gaze would always settle on his body, hence the lack of a shirt. Only a low waisted pair of jeans, that allowed you to see the hem of his Calvin Klein underwear, were preventing you from seeing his firm thighs.
You enjoyed the view, more than you probably should. How his muscles flexed when he moved, and the way his toned back shone under the dim light of the room.
It was such a delectable sight for your painfully sore eyes.
“You ready?” The question snapped you out of your thoughts, making you notice how close he was now.
“Yes.” You answered with light hesitation.
Your major enemy showing up once again: indecisiveness. But that wouldn’t stop you from giving yourself to the man in front of you. Not this time.
“Yes, what?” Jeon insisted. “Don’t forget your manners.”
“Yes, sir, I’m ready.” It fell naturally from your lips.
A satisfied smirk appeared on his face.
“Good girl.”
The dark haired man reached out for your wrists, placing a delicate kiss on both of them before tying them with a silky tie of his, and forcing your wandering hands to stay still once and for all.
“Do you trust me?” Jungkook gently asked.
“No, sir, I don’t.”
It was the only correct answer, and both you and Jungkook knew it.
The moment he earned your trust would be the moment he’d have to leave you behind, to fend for yourself and for you to learn how to navigate through the dark corners of your unlucky life.
Trusting him means leaving your guard down, leaving your guard down means being vulnerable, and Jungkook knew better than to be vulnerable, especially in the type of life he lived in. He didn’t want you to make that mistake, and if it meant giving you reasons to doubt him, then so be it.
“Are you gonna do as I say?” Jeon inquired.
“I will.”
“Good.” He leaned down to steal a harsh kiss from you. “You have no idea how bad I’m going to ruin you tonight.”
A slight shiver ran down your spine, knowing too well that his words were far from being an empty promise.
His tattooed hands descended on your bare body, ever so delicate, ever so tender. A stark contrast to what his real intentions were, and it left you craving more of it. Your insatiable desire for being thoroughly worshiped by his lips, his hands, all of him. It was never enough, and it will never be.
Like a stray dog in need of being fed, you needed his touch to be satisfied. Luckily for you, Jungkook was always a man to deliver everything you asked for, even if not verbally.
His eyes, never swerving from your body, took in all the reactions you gave him; from the way your lips formed a perfect o-shape, freeing the most delicious sounds, to how your back arched oh so naturally when his already trained fingers made their way towards the south part of your body. The place where he would get baptized every night, like a strong believer. Ending his thirst with the holy liquid you would suffice him with, not once asking for anything in return, but thankful of his merciful goddess showing appreciation for his dedication.
The only thing is, you weren’t a goddess and he wasn’t a believer. And the whole scenario was way more dirty in reality than what you’d often fantasize.
“Such a pretty doll.” Jungkook brought you back into reality with his husky voice, “Always so responsive.”
His middle finger traveled down to reach your entrance, teasing you with his light touch. Waiting for your reaction, waiting for you to beg. But just like he knew you so well, it was easy for you to tell when he wanted something from you. So rather than give Jungkook what he wanted, you settled for playing a game that would get you in a situation where not even God would help you.
You moved your hips ever so lightly, testing how far you could go without the tattooed man reminding you who’s in charge. Chasing his touch was easy, attaining it was a whole different story. And it was proven to you that tonight the ball was not in your court, when all you got was a chuckle from the man, while he retrieved his hand and leaned down to be face to face with you.
“Have you not learned anything yet, princess?” His dark voice made you tremble in your spot. “Or have you forgotten how things work around here, hm?”
Unwilling to answer, the only response he got from you was a strained whine, yet Jeon could see the desperation in your eyes, the fervent desire to be ruined by him, to be left defenseless and at his complete mercy. Your body wasn’t yours anymore; it stopped being yours the moment he set his eyes on you.
Jeon Jungkook owned you, that much was obvious. And as terrifying as it was, the fact was equally thrilling.
“How badly do you want me?” He tried again, with a question that drove you crazy. “Be good for me and say the words, princess.”
Wasn’t it evident? People often thought that you were too harsh to deal with, too rude, too much to handle. It didn’t offend you, nor did it crack your heart whenever someone would complain about your hot temper and crude attitude. However, at this precise moment, you were giving the man in front of you exactly what he was asking for, albeit not verbally, but your body was working on its own accord. For every light touch, Jeon would get a shiver, squirming, even a plea from your eyes. Any reaction that was in the books, you were already serving it for him.
Nonetheless, it seemed like you weren’t compliant enough for the older man.
“So bad.” You opted to respond instead, finally giving in. “I need you, I want you. Please, sir.”
It was like music to his ears. Your delightful voice, flying through the room as if it were the sweetest melody. Not even the singing of an angel would achieve the reaction that you were pulling from Jungkook right now. Just listening to you beg for him, that’s all Jeon ever wanted.
“You are being so good and polite, baby.” He praised you. “I’ll give you what you need, but…” The dark haired man drifted off, pulling out a blindfold from the back of his jeans. “I’m afraid we’ll do it my way.”
Terrifying, as looking into the depths of a deserted forest, but it was sinful enough for you to crave it. It was exciting regardless of what the whole ordeal entailed. Therefore, when the tall man approached you, with a silky blindfold resting on his hands, you were ready to follow his orders with no objections.
In a matter of seconds you were deprived of Junkook’s hard features, leaving you with a view of pure darkness, and causing your body to start squirming and moving around due to the anticipation. It was difficult to find calmness in such a stressful moment, but you managed. However, Jeon decided to start toying with you, taking advantage of the fact that you were unaware of your surroundings. And so his fingers commenced a trip down the tender flesh of your neck, rapidly traveling down your collarbones and lightly gracing your nipples, only for later on to pinch both of your buds in a harsh manner, one that ripped a strained gasp out of your mouth.
A sardonic smile took place on his face, however, you couldn’t see it. His free hand traveled up to push your cheeks together, enjoying how plump your lips looked and not being able to resist the urge to bite them.
Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt his teeth sinking in the flesh of your lips, along with the way his fingers were kneading every inch of your body.
“Relax and stay still.” Jeon ordered. “I know you’ll love this.”
His soothing voice was helping you to calm down, but it wasn’t enough. The sensations that were running through your body and the lack of proper touch left you in an unbearable agony. You craved to feel him closer, for his skin touching yours, for his breath mixing with yours while your bodies were intertwined in a passionate race to free both of your souls. What he was giving you wasn’t enough, but then again, when has it been?
A greedy little thing, that’s what Jungkook has always called you. And rightfully so, because you longed for him in ways no one else had done, and it scared him. Jeon was afraid you might be too attached to him, moreover, to your own idea of him. The way you would reach for his hand, almost as second nature, when you were out and about, or how your eyes always gravitated towards his figure whenever he stepped into a room. That terrified him. Because it meant you were addicted to him in the same way he was to you, and that could only mean trouble in the long run.
Tonight, however, was not about his fears and insecurities. Tonight was meant to be for you; to supply you with the utmost pleasure you were able to handle, and even if you couldn’t, Jungkook was willing to give you more than what you asked for. So rather than letting his mind wander to places he wasn’t fond of, the man decided to grant you what you were desperately looking for.
His slender fingers slid into your warm hole, filling you up as best as possible. Moving in ways that would haunt you forever, as a reminder that no one —not even yourself, will be able to touch you and treat you like he could.
“There you go…” He muttered, so close to your ear that made you shiver. “Is that enough for my little slut?”
His husky voice echoed through every corner of the room, pulling a light gasp out of you. It wasn’t strange for you to hear him say such lewd things or call you such unspeakable names, but every single time he did, it awakened a wild sensation within you.
Answering to his question you shook your head no, adamant to get more of him, and desperately wanting to be filled to the brim with something more than his fingers.
“More…” You begged. “Please, more.”
His fingers were avidly moving, pumping in and out of your velvety walls at a steady pace. His touch seemed to be enhanced and it felt much more than any other time. Whether it was because you couldn’t see nor could you touch anything, or because of his skillful movements, you couldn’t tell. Nevertheless, there was no complaint. It felt terribly good.
“Yes, please don’t stop.”
Your whiny voice was making Jungkook experience unspeakable things. He was eager to have you, eager to touch you, eager to have a taste of you. But more importantly, so desperate to fuck you. In the same way he awakened a wild side of you with his dark stare, you drove him absolutely crazy with the little noises you made. Furthermore, having you underneath him, moaning his name while squirming in pleasure, and feeling pure bliss due to how good he made you feel, was boosting his ego.
Jeon Jungkook was a man that always strived to be praised, even for the little and insignificant things. So to say he was thrilled and satisfied by the way you were chanting his name like a sinful prayer, along with how your body was responding insanely good to his touch, would be an enormous understatement.
He was on the verge of losing control and claiming you in such an animalistic way, that would leave anyone who happened to be near his room, concerned for your well-being.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you look like this?” It was a question that didn’t need an answer.
Jungkook was entranced by the way you were reacting to his touch, watching your skin coated in goosebumps and how your legs would try to wrap around his waist to pull him closer, in need of him. It has always amazed him how innocent and clueless you looked and acted on the daily, yet somehow you knew what to do to make him act up, to drive him crazy. It was as if you were just pretending to know nothing just to tease him, just to make him never leave you, but deep down Jungkook knew you were sincere.
Your life has been tough, to say the least, and he knew you were in need of guidance, in need of someone to hold your hand and walk you through the crude stages of life. Jeon has never told you, but part of the reason why he took interest in you was due to his protective instinct. The older man knew you needed protection, from who or what? It wasn’t clear, but he instantly knew he was the right one to do it.
Oddly enough, there was no one better than the most dangerous man in South Korea to keep you safe.
But the way you would act so innocently drove him crazy.
Even when you tried to act confident, there was this sprinkle of hesitation every time you did something —indecisiveness striking again. And it was difficult to ignore it, moreover, it was difficult to hide it. The man could see right through your weak act, and spot your nervousness from miles away.
Even when you sucked him off in his office after a tiring meeting, he knew you were slightly scared to do such a thing.
Someone pretending to be clueless wouldn’t act as eager and clumsy as you did back then, although there has been some improvement since that time. Your teeth wouldn’t make an appearance anymore, you would use the right amount of saliva to make it messy but still look appealing for Jeon. The man loved how now you use more of your tongue to tease his tip and how far he could go into your throat. But none of that would’ve been attained without his help.
If given, be grateful. If grateful, show it.
It all goes back to the same predicament: you often showing your thankfulness for every little thing Jungkook has done for you.
He saved you, in the same way that a human would take an injured bird into their home to help it heal. Only for the person to cage it after the bird it’s back on its feet. Whereas Jeon Jungkook saved you from your previous way of living, he also owned you, preventing you from leaving his side.
Your broken moan snapped the dark haired man back into reality. His eyes were glazed with lust, looking right down on you and your tempting body.
“Are you close yet, doll?”
He knew you were. Jungkook could feel you clenching on his fingers, but he wanted to hear it from you.
“Yes, I’m so close.” You whined.
Your hands were moving so much, trying to break free from the tie that was preventing you from touching him. Jeon silently enjoyed it, he enjoyed how addicted to him you were, that it was a torture for you to not touch him in any way. You were so accustomed to feeling him, every single inch, that being restrained felt like pure hell.
“Please… More, faster…” You once again begged, and this time Jungkook couldn’t handle it.
Ignoring your protests, he pulled his fingers out, rapidly stripping off the rest of his clothes to position himself in between your legs. Because yes, he was on the verge of losing control before, but now his racional side flew out the window, and so he couldn’t wait a second longer to be wrapped in the warmth of your walls, ready to take him in.
“My sweet girl, don’t be impatient.” Jungkook cooed at you. “I’ll give you something better.”
Without further ado, he thrusted into you with a hard pump. It ripped a moan out of you, making you tug at the tie even more. You were beyond annoyed that you couldn’t touch him nor could you see his beautiful figure while he fucked you, although it enhanced the rest of your senses.
You could hear his little noises more clearly, feel his touch even better than you usually would, and taste him so much more in every kiss he gave you. It was truly a blessing and a curse.
“You’re so tight, Y/n.” Jungkook gritted through his teeth, preventing himself from moving manically just yet.
Jeon could see the struggle in your face, the way you were clenching on his dick so hard that it was almost impossible for him to move. No matter how many times he’s fucked you, you would never get accustomed to his size. But in reality, the actual problem was that the man hasn’t done exactly that in a while.
Truth be told, there was a reason for your eagerness, for your desperation. For your ambition to have more of him. Jungkook has been neglecting you the past couple of days, perhaps not on purpose, but his line of work has required him to travel to the other side of the world for a whole week. And now that he was back you were ready to trap him in your limbs for as long as you could have him.
“I haven’t fucked you in a while that your pussy is already forgetting how my cock feels, huh?” He acknowledged the situation. “Maybe I’ll have to remind this tight cunt who owns it.”
Without a warning, he gave a hard thrust once again, bottoming out. You wanted to tell him that you didn’t forget how big his dick was or how good it felt. Many nights you fantasized about his fat cock pounding into you while the only thing you could use to pleasure yourself was your fingers. It was such a sad comparison, especially because it proved that what he once told you was completely true.
No one will be ever able to satisfy your carnal needs in the same way that he does. No one will be able to make you come undone with their touch. You could only daydream about Jungkook rocking into you hard and rough, during those lonely nights when the only thing you could use was your small fingers.
Luckily for you, now you have it, the real thing. Now you could feel the tip of his cock hitting every right spot the more the thrusted into you. His veiny member slamming over and over into your throbbing cunt, crying for more of him.
“So fucking greedy. My dirty slut can never get enough of me, huh?” Jungkook groaned, “Look at you, already a mess and I’ve barely done anything, sweetheart.”
It was such a true statement. Even if there was no way for you to look at yourself, you were sure of your disheveled appearance. Sweat was coating your skin, making your messy hair stick to your forehead and nape, your lips were now swollen and shiny due to the wet kisses Jeon has shared with you.
But it has always been like this. Jeon always knew what to do, what to say, how to touch you to turn you into a babbling and whiny mess, one who could only chant his name and ask for more, like the little ambitious and greedy girl you were. Regardless of the way you would sometimes demand more of his attention, more of his touch, he loved it. The tattooed man loved how ruined you looked at the end of your rendezvous, staring at your tear stained cheeks and swollen lips. Jungkook was always fascinated by how fucked out you were once he was done with everything, it was his favorite look on you.
“You like this, don’t you? Being used like a fuck toy, not being able to do anything to fight me.” The older man let out a dark chuckle, while one of his hands crept up to wrap itself around your throat. “So defenseless and needy, letting me do anything to you.”
The more he talked the closer you got. You knew it was a matter of time for you to cum. And you couldn’t be more thankful for that.
Jungkook kept rocking into you at a rapid and harsh pace, fucking your brains out while calling you names that he knew would pull a reaction out of you.
“My dumb baby, taking me so well.” He praised you. “You always know how to take my cock, willing to let me fuck this pretty pussy however I want.”
You could only nod, gasping for air and moving your hips to meet his thrusts as best as possible. It was like a race to see which one would finish first, although it was clear that the man ramming into you would not relent until you were crying and shaking underneath him.
“Fuck, you drive me crazy.” He confessed, leaning down to kiss your soft lips.
His free hand traveled down in between your legs to place his skilled thumb over your clit. His movements were like a bucket of cold water poured over your burning skin. It calmed the building fire in between your legs, just as much as it fueled your already approaching orgasm.
“You feel so amazing around my dick.” Jeon hissed over your lips, hypnotized by the way his aching cock would get lost into your soaked cunt.
“Oh god…” You moaned. “Please don’t stop, I’m so fucking close.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” A promise, far from being empty.
It was clear that Jeon was getting close as well by the way he so desperately was pounding into you, moaning lowly and leaning down to bite your neck.
His lips and teeth were doing wonders on your skin, marking you up with his bites and sucking on your flesh as well. Jungkook was devouring you, tasting you, ruining you as he promised.
“Holy shit…” He said in a raspy voice. “You’re all mine, aren’t you? Only I can make you feel like this.”
“Yes, yes, yes…” You chanted back, but it wasn’t enough for him.
“Come on, tell me, pretty girl.” He requested. “Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours. I’m all yours.” You slurred your words out.
It only encouraged the man to fuck you harder, meaner, faster… Exactly how you liked it. Jungkook was aware of it, he knew you like the palm of his hand, and although it was concerning how much he knew about you, it also came in handy in moments like this.
“Shit, I’m gonna cum.” Jungkook alerted you, snapping both of you from your wandering thoughts.
“Cum, inside me.” You croaked out, biting on your bottom lip.
It was a risky request, something that you might regret in the future, not only because you weren’t on any contraception, but it entailed being connected to him in such an intimate way, one that neither of you were ready for.
“Are you sure?” He asked with a soft tone, yet you could hear the agitation in his voice. “Are you okay with… oh fuck, with me cumming in you?”
“Yes, yes, please. Just do it, fill me up, please.” You struggled to say. “I need to feel your cum deep inside me.”
Jungkook felt like dying with the lewd words you were spewing.
You were drunk on the ecstasy of the whole experience. Not being able to look at your surroundings, being restrained, the way Jeon was pistoning into you, hitting spots that no one has ever been able to reach before; the sinful words spilling from his lips, his hand still wrapped around your neck, albeit more loosely now. Everything was clouding your mind and leaving you in such a lax state, that prevented you from forming any coherent thought.
Regardless, your consensual words were all he needed to let go, shooting his hot cum inside of your greedy pussy.
“Oh god…” Jungkook moaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
His orgasm triggered yours, throwing you over the edge in a matter of seconds, right after he came. Your whimpers were loud and high pitched, your body was burning and trembling, and you were sure the light makeup you were previously wearing was smudged by now.
You were panting, trying your best to calm your agitated breathing. Jungkook was still inside of you, with his face hidden in your neck, breathing as heavily as you were. Both still intertwined in a mess of sweaty limbs.
After a few minutes where both of you recovered from the intense orgasms you just had, Jeon finally pulled out, separating himself from you. His hands flew up to free yours, making you whine softly; he placed a soft kiss on both of your wrists, making sure the tie didn’t hurt you. The blindfold came off next, and it took a few seconds for your eyes to get used to the dim light after seeing pure darkness.
“How was it?”
A simple question, one that, in the ears of an oblivious listener, would mean nothing. An inquiry that held more significance and concern than a simple are you okay?; it was subtle but it spoke volumes the way Jeon Jungkook would still feel the need to protect you, even from himself.
He never voiced his worries properly, trying to play it cool but secretly concerned that he might have hurt you in any way. The man never learnt how to correctly communicate with others, but he would be damned if he didn’t express how much he cared for you in other ways.
“Amazing…” Was your response, albeit in a hoarse voice.
Your throat was slightly aggravated, feeling terribly dry after attempting to voice the pleasure and enjoyment from the experience, through the small space there was left from Jungkook’s hard grip on it. However, it didn’t stop you from answering his concerns.
Amazing, fascinating.
It was the only way to describe it, your mind was too foggy to think of a proper answer, but by the way he was smirking you could tell he was satisfied with your response.
“Good.” He nodded. “Don’t move, I’ll bring a towel to clean you up and a bottle of water.”
Before he could step out of the room your weak voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Wait…” You called for him.
If asked, then give; if given, be grateful. If grateful, show it.
“Thank you.” A small whisper was all it took for the man to walk back at you, leaning down to place a tender kiss on your forehead.
“Get some rest, I’ll be right back.”
You were left alone in the big room, spread out on the mattress while your mind was trying to comprehend all the events that just happened. Your heart was filled with questions, but you knew better than to ponder over those inquiries.
Jeon Jungkook was a man like no other, one that cared for you more than he should, and for that you will be forever grateful.
1K notes · View notes
a-hazbin-reader · 3 months
Note
OK SO WHAT ABOUT ALASTOR X FEM READER EXCEPT READER DOESNT KNOW HOW TO REACT TO HIS CHIVALRY
So this takes place before they start dating and the beginning of the relationship. Reader basically has never met a guy who has chivalry(or is respectful) like ALASTOR, so when Alastor’s mannerisms come out, reader just looks at him like “wtf are you doing?” BUT NOT IN A MEAN WAY, more like in a confused way because they’re from a time where chivalry isn’t as popular(especially to women in general) and reader was raised to be tough(but it’s still nice to get treated like a lady). So whenever alastor acts like that reader just gets awkward and shy.
IM ASKING FOR THIS CUZ LIKE THE GUYS NOW HAVE NO RESPECT OR CHIVALRY like alastor😔😒 (ik not ALL guys but most guys now and days are jackasses)
Hnnng I fucking love this ✨️
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Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Harassment, Men being nasty
Description: ☝️⬆️
Back when you were alive, men never did the sort of things that Alastor does unless they wanted to get laid
Most of the men you knew had tendencies to act like frat boys or old perverts
Only having one goal in mind and if they got rejected then they got fucking nasty as hell with you
On top of that, you didn't have the luxury of growing up to be soft and helpless like some people
You had to be strong and look out for yourself, you rarely looked to others for help
Not even your own family
Some people didn't even look at you as a woman, just as some tough badass who didn't need anyone's helping hand
At least you hoped that how they looked at you
Not that you would've rejected the offer if anyone actually tried to help you out, everyone needs a hand now and then
The only people who ever offered any sort of help were horny guys who offered to help you let off some steam with them
Fuck off
But Alastor grew up in a very different time than you and his way of treating you always gave you whiplash
He would never dream of asking you to fuck within the first few days of knowing each other, or even the first month wtf kind of animals have men turned into??
You don't even wanna know, Alastor
His little pet names alone made you flustered but his actions??? A whole other monster in itself
When you first met him this crazy guy kissed your hand like you were in some regency movie
You were so shy afterwards that you couldn't look him in the eyes, your cheeks hot and pink
One time, Alastor actually took off his coat and put it over a puddle for you step on
Didn't you just beat up some guy for ripping it???
You could've just stepped over the puddle in the first place??? Why did you do that??
"I did what any proper gentleman would do for a lady such as yourself, Y/N..!"
You gotta look away at that point or else he would see how hot your face is getting, feeling flustered
Alastor actually asked you to dance to a song that wasn't meant for grinding and sweating on each other??
You blush and mumble something about not knowing how to dance to music like this and instead of making fun of you Alastor teaches you how
He's a wonderful dancer and leads the entire time, not letting you make a fool of yourself in front of everyone
You've never felt your heart do skip so many beats before
You're trying to ignore what some random lecherous demon is saying about your body and the things he would do to it??
Guess what-
"Now that is not the way to start a proper conversation with a lady of Y/N's status, or any lady for that matter."
Alastor scares him off for you and won't even accept your thanks in return, making your legs wobbly
Once your suffering with feelings for Alastor then every little thing he does makes you turn into a gooey puddle
It doesn't stop when he's suddenly courting you, only getting worse with each romantic act
He brings you flowers, dedicates entire broadcasts to you, asks you to take evening strolls with him
He does all this and never even expects a parting kiss from you, simply happy to be in your presence
When/why the fuck did men stop acting like this?? This is so much better than how they were back when you were alive-
You get flustered just at the sight of him now, wondering just how he's going to make you swoon today
Alastor is slowly getting you accustomed to how he believes you should always be treated, happy that you're no longer confused by his actions
This motherfucker just Pavlov-ed you into falling for him
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This was so fun to write!! I hope I did a good enough job!!
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morganski-19 · 15 days
Text
Eddie was still in the coma, attached to so many tubes it made Wayne sick to look at sometimes. But they were keeping him alive, so he’ll manage. They were making sure he got to see his boy awake again.
There was still a metal cuff that was attached to his wrist. The other end attached to the bar of the hospital bed. As if he could spring up at any moment and just escape. When he’s been half dead for days. When Wayne hasn’t seen his eyes open since before Eddie went into hiding. 
He hasn’t seen his boy for over a full week. Even though he’s been lying there on the bed for the last few days. Eddie won’t be back with Wayne until he wakes up. If he wakes up.
Everyday Wayne’s been here in between his shifts. Can’t afford to take the days off, with having to get a new place and all. Part of his paycheck’s paying for the hotel room he’s staying in while trying to find somewhere new to live. Even the abandoned houses are too pricy, and the trailer park’s in shambles. 
Honestly, if he could, he’d be pulling as many doubles as possible just to get a new place and soon. But that would mean not being here. Might miss when he wakes up. Wayne doesn’t want to miss that. 
It’s not like he’s lonely here either. There’s been other visitors. The kid that Eddie always talked about from his dungeon game. The one that he secretly liked above the rest of the freshmen. His bandmates came by once, looking guilty as hell when they did. They haven’t been back since. 
There’s been a few other people Wayne hasn’t recognized. A few more kids from the club, some he didn’t even know Eddie knew. But they always came to check in before heading across the hall to see the boy there. The Harrington boy. 
Wayne recognized it was him one day when the door was left open. He was asleep, with an IV in his arm along with some other cords. Not as many as his boy, but still there. There was a girl in there too, short brown hair and wearing a baggy jacket with some patches. She was holding his hand. It never seemed like she let it go. 
The same girl checked in on Eddie a few times. Tried to make small talk with Wayne but left when she realized he was disinterested. Always heading back to the Harrington boy. 
All he knew is that they both came in at the same time. Got admitted one after the other, but Wayne didn’t know what order. That they both had to go through some type of surgery to deal with the injuries. Though he hears Harrington’s was more cosmetic than anything. Eddie’s was to save his life. 
Not that he’s judging. People could do whatever they wanted for all he cared. There were different doctor’s for different things. Priorities and all that. He just hoped that Harringotn wasn’t higher up on the list than Eddie was. Eddie was clearly the one in the worst condition. 
The kid that kept visiting Eddie went over there a lot too. Dustin, is the kid’s name. Wayne can’t remember it half the time, he’s too busy focusing on something else. And just bone tired. But after Dustin sits next to Wayne for a while, updates Eddie on everything that’s happened that day, sometimes reads to him, he heads right across the hall and does it all again. Every single time. 
Wayne has no clue how this boy could possibly be close with both Eddie and the Harrington kid. It’s not like they were in the same circles. Or seemed to remotely like each other at all. Wayne can explicitly remember the Harrington boy being apart of one of Eddie’s hate filled rampages. But if he’s remembering right, there was something different that really pissed Eddie off about him. Something that’s wrapped up in the same reason Wayne’s never seen Eddie bring a girl home. 
But day after day, Dustin goes to Steve’s room after stopping by Eddie. Wayne can see why Eddie liked Dustin. He’s loud and dramatic just like Eddie. Likes the same game, same books, even starting to like the same music. But Dustin and the Harrington boy. He doesn’t get it. 
Until he’s walking down the hall to get a cup of coffee and hears it. The bickering that leads into laughter. Snippy comments about something filled with inside jokes. Suddenly it all makes sense. They almost seem like brothers. 
It’s a few more days until Wayne meets the Harrington boy himself. A nurse coming to check Eddie’s vitals leaves the door open on accident. Harrington peaks through when he’s on a walk down the hallway. 
“Why is he handcuffed?” is the first thing Wayne hears from the kid. Voice filled with anger. 
Before Wayne can get annoyed at explaining the whole situation to another stranger, explain how he knows his boy is innocent, the nurse is yelling at him. 
“You can’t be in here, sir.”
“I don’t give a shit. Why is he handcuffed? He didn’t do anything wrong.”
Wayne is surprised that he’s not the one making the case this time. Somehow, this kid he’s never met believes his nephew is innocent. Just like he does. 
The nurse snaps her folder shut, walking up to Steve and waving for help through the door. “That is private information. Go back to your room before you’re forced to.”
Steve rolls his eyes with a snarl, undoing the buttons on the front of his hospital shirt. “He didn’t give me these. He didn’t kill those kids. I know, I was there.” He begins to pull back the bandages, revealing scarred, mauled skin that looks just like Eddies. The nurse scolds him to stop. “He’s innocent, so why is he handcuffed to the bed?”
“He is still a suspect and deemed dangerous. Now get back to your room.”
More another nurse grabs Steve’s arm to try and pull him to his room. He shakes it off. 
“Dangerous,” his voice raises. “He’s been in a coma for days and you think he’s dangerous. What is he going to do, pop up out of bed like he hasn’t been fucking asleep for days and almost died just to run away? He couldn’t do that if he tried.”
Security gets involved now, physically pushing Steve out of the doorway. The nurse shuts the door to Eddie’s room, cutting Wayne off from seeing it. She apoligized for the intrusion and gets back to checking on Eddie. 
“He’s right, you know,” Wayne says, still hearing the noise from the hall. “My boy didn’t do nothin’ wrong. Can’t escape even if he tried. Or attack anyone for that matter. He’s been through enough, he doesn’t need to wake up to a cuff around his wrist.”
The nurse purses her lips, strained. “This is from above me, sir. But if the news is true, the cuffs are staying on.”
When the nurse opens the door again, the hall is clear. 
The next time Wayne sees Harrington is when he leaves for the day. Only able to fall asleep so many times in a shitty hospital chair before needing to go home. Security presses for him to stay in his room, warning him. 
“Just going to make a fucking phone call. I’m allowed to do that right?” When the security guard crosses his arms, the kid hits him with, “Don’t want me to get my dad involved, do you? Isn’t he one of the main donors for this hospital? Be such a shame if he stopped.”
Wayne almost laughs when the security guard moves out of the way. Harrington giving him the finger with a smirk as he walks down the hall to the payphone. 
Maybe Eddie and the Harrington kid had more in common than Wayne thought. 
now with a part 2
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potter-imagines · 9 months
Text
Brat (Satoru Gojo x Reader)
Prompt: Satoru and his girlfriend Y/n are in an argument over his celebrity crush on Inoue Waka. Y/n is ignoring Satoru which absolutely drives him crazy.
Pairing: Satoru x reader
Warnings: some swearing, light light light smut (making out), gojo being gojo
Word Count: 7k
Notes: this is set broadly around season 2 episode 2 plot, with some clear changes from the original episode. riko and suguru are included.
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“You changed your home screen?” Suguru commented nonchalantly. He took notice of the sudden alteration to his friend’s phone almost immediately. The difference wasn’t hard to spot seeing as the last two years all Satoru had used for his background images were various photos of his girlfriend, Y/n, whom he loved showing off.
Suguru was accustomed to the photos being circulated in a never ending pattern, Y/n and Satoru at the beach, Y/n in a scandalous position she beat him into removing, Y/n sleeping on his chest, Y/n and him sharing sweets, Y/n on her birthday grinning widely as she sat in front of her cake, the couple doing mud masks together, Y/n in front of the eiffel tower, and so on, however it was entirely new for him to see the famous, bikini clad Japanese model as his friend's home screen instead of his girlfriend. Suguru’s brow was raised as Satoru chuckled to himself.
“To Inoue Waka.” Gojo smiled in triumph, like he was in some war that he had finally found the upper hand in. “Y/n and I are in a fight- it’s certain to get a reaction out of her.” 
Despite his explanation, Suguru found himself lost in confusion. Only a night prior to leaving for their mission to protect and deliver the star plasma vessel, Geto had been sitting in attendance as he witnessed the couple's one of many bickering sessions. He really couldn’t blame Y/n much, seeing as he also found himself disagreeing with the white haired prodigy on the regular as well, yet this fight was one hundred percent, without a doubt in his mind, Satoru Gojo’s fault. Being as the argument was his wrong doing, Suguru couldn’t understand why his friend would sink himself deeper in the grave with his strong willed girlfriend rather than admit he messed up. And he certainly couldn’t see how an image of another woman- a model their argument steamed from, in a bikini too tight her boobs were practically over spilling from, would help his case.
The pair seemed to forget where they were until the young voice of the vessel of Tengen-sama herself reminded them of her presence. 
“Listen to me!” Riko shouted, irritation lacing her words. The young girl was set to explode off on the boys like a firecracker for their rude behavior in dismissing her heartfelt declaration on becoming one with Tengen-sama and Tengen-sama one with her, when suddenly the mention of the feminine name caught her attention. “Wait, Y/n?” She questioned. Riko didn’t see another female insight besides Kuroi but she sure hoped there was a sane female mind among the brainless men sitting among her. 
At her words, the man with hair white as snow leaned against the couch and ran a hand along his face. He narrowed his gaze, giving the girl a leer as if he found it ridiculous he had to explain who this Y/n was to her. 
“My strikingly beautiful, insanely stubborn, bratty, gorgeous girlfriend.” He moaned as his head fell back against the sofa, like the explanation was difficult enough. Through his dark rimmed glasses Gojo looked over to Riko, changing the topic all together. “I bet you don’t have many friends if you talk like that.”
“We won’t have to feel bad sending you off.” Suguru muttered. 
“I talk normally at school!” She expressed in an exacerbated tone, then quickly stepped forward pointing an accusing finger in the white haired man’s face. “And it’s you who shouldn’t have any friends! You certainly don’t deserve a girlfriend if you’re calling her a brat behind her back, you should be ashamed of yourself!” She reprimanded. 
Suguru lifted his gaze, intrigued by her final comment. Satoru didn’t actually think of his girlfriend as a brat, but of course Riko didn’t understand how the couple worked and there was no time to explain how Gojo called his girlfriend a brat in an endearing way- unlike his usage for it towards her. When Gojo used it towards Riko, he meant it. If they had the time, Geto might even explain how Y/n commonly refers to her boyfriend as a ‘trust fund baby’ or ‘a prick’, both of which are factual, yet it’s out of love between the two. 
Satoru ignored her quip, finding her opinion on his relationship totally useless. He knew his love for Y/n was larger than his will to live, yet he saw no point in expressing that to this girl. Riko didn’t know one thing about his relationship with Y/n so why did he care what the girl thought? Sure, he probably did sound like a complete jerk, however he couldn’t care less if the star plasma vessel before him found him to be a bad person for what she was hearing. 
Suguru glanced at Satoru, curious to see if the sorcerer was going to give a reaction however the six eye holder simply scrolled away on his phone, searching for the perfect image of his celebrity model crush to use as his lock screen. 
“School…” She mumbled out. “Kuroi, what time is it?!”
Satoru, Suguru, and Kuroi all sat scattered around the abandoned outdoor pool of Renchoku Girls' Junior High, all thinking of different things. Kuroi found herself reflecting on the time she spent practically raising the young girl who would soon be sacrificing herself as a vessel. Suguru’s mind wandered to how they were going to keep Riko safe until making it to Jujutsu High. All Satoru could think about was why his girlfriend wouldn’t answer his calls. Dangling his shoes above the water, Satoru kicked at the murky water in vex as yet another call went unanswered. 
“Huh?! She keeps sending me straight to voicemail- Suguru, let me borrow your phone!” Satoru failed to turn around as he extended his arm behind himself, impatiently awaiting Geto’s cellphone.
Begrudgingly Suguru dug his phone out from his side pocket and handed the cell phone over to his hysterical friend. He had already seen this play out a million times before and was positive the outcome would be no different; Gojo does something easily avoidable and pisses Y/n off, they get into an argument because it physically pains Gojo to admit his wrong doings, Y/n ignores him, he pretends he’s fine and acts as if he enjoys the distance created, that lasts for a few hours at most, then Gojo acts like a crazed person trying to get his girlfriend to respond while she is clearly still upset. 
Miles away in Tokyo, Y/n saw the face of her good friend Suguru pop up on her screen. Her brain screamed it was just her idiot boyfriend trying to convince her to speak to him. Maybe it really was Suguru calling to inform her of their mission. Hesitantly, Y/n accepted the call and lifted the phone to her ear.
“Hi, pretty girl- uh?! She hung up on me!” Gojo shrieked as the line went dead on the other end. He pulled the phone away from his ear and stared the the screen in disbelief, almost as if the mobile device had zapped him like an electrical shock. His mouth hung wide, a look of absolute astonishment polarizing his features. A few moments of staring at the blank screen passed by, Gojo awaiting a returning call from his love to declare it was all some prank, yet nothing came. Suguru outstretched his hand towards his friend,
“Satoru, can I have my phone back?”
The blue eyed man gave an over exaggerated groan then carelessly tossed the cellular device back to its rightful owner. 
“Fine. Ugh! Can’t believe how dramatic she’s being! Just wait until I get back to Jujutsu High and don’t share any of my mochi with her. She’s going to have to wait at least a week until I give her that necklace I bought.” He huffed like a child. Resting his chin in the palm of his hand, Satoru gazed out at the pool. From behind he could hear a chuckle from his friend, causing him to turn his head. As expected, Suguru was chuckling to himself at his expense. Squinting his eyes, Satoru sent a scowl, unimpressed at Suguru’s amusement over his situation. 
“Well, you did go on an entire rant to her about how hot Inoue Waka is, how she’s your dream girl, then you told Y/n you’re only dating her because Inoue Waka hasn’t returned any of your fanmail-”
“That was a joke.” Satoru dismissed his argument, shaking his head, still playing a blind eye to his wrong doings.  
“And you said Y/n is lucky to be dating you… so, one might call her response reasonable.” Sure, Suguru was Satoru’s friend first, but he was also Y/n’s friend and he had no issue telling Satoru the truth when he was in the wrong, like he was now.  “Not to mention the new background which is sure to warm her heart.” Suguru pointed out. Gojo preferred to convince himself that his partner was wrong, although the nagging voice in the back of his head claimed otherwise. An abrupt quip from Geto on two of his cursed spirits no longer roaming around Riko sent all three sprinting to find her location, and still, even while the choir girls and sensei fawned over him, Gojo could not stop replaying his earlier fight with Y/n, wondering what he could do to get a response from her. 
Satoru and Riko were currently running from the chapel on her school grounds- well, Satoru was running while he had the young school girl hoisted by the back of her uniform. An unexpected attack had caused a bump in the road and now Gojo had to protect the girl on his own until he could find Suguru, not that the task would be difficult by any means, Satoru simply had his mind elsewhere. Speaking of elsewhere, his cell phone started ringing from his side pocket, and before he could reach for the mobile device, the young girl plucked it out in one motion. Satoru went to steal his phone back when she raised the phone to her ear and, as if it belonged to her, answered the call meant for Satoru. 
“Eh? Give that here-” Gojo reached his hand to snatch his phone back from Riko, yet instead she pulled the device right to her ear and began rambling. If she wasn't on the mission Satoru was certain he’d have dropped her off the building right then and there, but he had no time to make another effort to yank the phone as he needed to reach higher ground. It wasn’t until Gojo heard the sound of his girlfriend’s voice that his heart dropped straight to his ass. ‘Oh no’, he thought. 
“Is this Y/n?” The girl eagerly asked. A far off voice replied, making Gojo reach out once more to snatch his phone back, only for the vessel to jerk her head away from his grasp. He knew there was no time to stop, he had to get to higher ground and then he could steal his phone back and make things right with his girlfriend- he just hoped Riko and her big mouth wouldn’t taint that chance for him. 
Before he could try to reason with the girl and convince her not to say anything more, Riko began rambling and there was nothing he could do to stop her. Gojo could sense another curse user in their perimeter and knew it was essential for his focus to remain on keeping the vessel safe, even if she was a pain in his ass. 
“My name is Riko- yes, I am! Listen, your boyfriend is a total selfish, inconsiderate, self obsessed jerk! He barged into my choir class all high and mighty and bathed in the attention as the girls swarmed him- he even took his stupid little glasses off for them to all swoon over his eyes! He was totally leaning into their lust for him! My sensei even gave him her phone number-”
“Ah! Hey! Give me my phone back- are you trying to get me murdered?!” Nope, ah uh, not happening, Gojo thought as he tore his cellphone away from her hands. Riko turned to look at him, but the mix of fear and absolute terror on his face kept her words at bay. He sent the girl a cold glare, electric blue eyes narrowed in frustration. “My girlfriend is-”
The abrupt sound of his beloved girlfriend screaming at him sent Satoru back to reality as he glanced at the phone screen, then resentfully lifted the mobile to his ear.
“Hi, princess- why’re you yelling?! I don’t know what this crazy girl is talking about-”
Even Riko was experiencing a small twang of regret as the manic shouting on the opposite end of the line seemed to worsen with every passing second. As far as only knowing the cocky sorcerer for less than a full day, this change in posterior surprised her. Riko was taken aback to see him practically cowering at the words the girl seemed to be seething. All day he had been ranting and raving about how powerful he was- clearly the conceited type, yet here he was nearly shaking like a leaf as his girlfriend scolds him. Riko wonders for a brief moment if she should’ve minded her own business.
A minute more of screaming and cursing passed until Satoru seemed to find his voice, or rather thought of a viable excuse, and nervously cut the girl off. 
“I’ve got to go, a curse user attacked! See you later, my love!” He hurriedly smacked his finger against the red button on the bottom of the phone, desperate to end the call as quickly as humanly possible. Riko stared up at him as she dangled above the ground, and as their eyes met, Gojo rolled his, displaying his anger towards the girl as broad as daylight. 
Gojo scoffed down at the girl as he continued to hoist her above the earth by the back of her shirt, carrying her as if she was a briefcase, or bag of groceries, though certainly not as one should hold a human. Riko huffed, folding her arms across her chest, but Gojo paid no mind to her emotions, too upset with her actions and interjecting herself in his personal relationship. Jumping to the building to their right, a childlike huff heaved from his chest. 
“Jeez, you’re really a handful, brat. Now I’ve got more of a mess waiting at Jujutsu High for me.”
After the pair met up with Suguru and Kuroi, the four were beyond ready to be inside the safety barrier of Jujutsu High and left at once. After arriving at the school, the sun had long since fallen and the sky was teetering between a navy and black shade. Suguru gave his partner a curt nod, gesturing his head towards the dorm rooms, insisting he could handle escorting Riko into the tombs of the star corridor. Satoru sent his friend a grateful smile, bid the vessel and her guardian a farewell, then took off for the dorms. A small, minute, fraction of him was going to miss the kid, but she agreed to her destiny and up until now, seemed relatively pleased with her choice. Satoru jogged up the steps of the dormitory until he finally reached the fourth floor, the floor only occupied by female students. It wasn’t hard to locate Y/n’s room as he had snuck in past curfew more times than he could count, he reached her door with ease. 
His knuckles tapped against the wooden door, allowing less than a fair second to pass before he jimmied the handle. Usually a locked door would be a sign to walk away and try again in the morning, but Satoru only saw it as a slight hiccup. Pulling a credit card from his back pocket, Satoru slid the heavy black card through the slit between the frame and the door itself, shimming the card down to the lock while simultaneously twisting the knob back and forth. He gave the handle one quick turn to the left and abruptly the door swung open causing him to stumble less than graciously into the dimly lit room. 
Creeping in, Gojo carefully shut the door behind him and fully stepped into the dorm. The pink clock on her desk flashed half past midnight, but he knew his night owl of a girlfriend was sure to be awake, despite the eerie silence in the room. Tiptoeing his way towards the bed in the corner, Gojo let out a whisper, 
“Princess, I’m home! Are you awake?”
He sat himself on the edge of the mattress, placing the large shopping bag by his feet as he cautiously examined the heap hidden under a pile of blankets. Running his hand up and down the smooth fleece, Satoru could feel someone shifting around underneath. He leaned his head down, bending his body at an awkward angel, to rest it on top of what he assumed to be her side- that was until an elbow pulled back from under and collided sharply with his temple. 
A pained yelp sounded as he jumped back in surprise and fell to the floor causing a ‘thud’ to sound out. The figure on the bed threw the covers off her head as her fiery leer met Gojo’s stunned expression. 
“No.” She sneered. Though this did not deter the boy as he had previously prepared himself for an attitude filled reunion- especially due to how their last conversation had ended. Propping himself up to his feet once more, Satoru was determined to try again. 
“I brought you presents- look!” He rustled through the paper bag and yanked out four neatly wrapped parcels, and smiled while shoving his outstretched arms towards the glaring girl. However she refused to move, and instead continued murdering the sorcerer with her deathly scowl instead. Gojo let out a dramatic sigh, gesturing to the boxes in his arms once more. “C’mon, pretty girl, you gotta open the gifts-”
“Why don’t you go give it to those choir school girls- or what about their instructor-” A taunting laugh fell from her pink lips. “Better yet, send it to Inoue Waka and see if she finally responds to your love letters!” 
“Oh, c’mon, pumpkin! Are you really still upset about that?” Gojo whined. Here he was, bearing gifts in hand, and she was still angry about something that happened so, so long ago? Gojo ran his calloused hand across his face. 
“Still upset? It just happened today!” 
“If it’s any consolation, those school girls weren’t even in high school so they were way too young for me anyhow.” And none of them compared to you, he wanted to add. Y/n tossed from her position in the bed so her face was now peeking out between covers as her eyes flared. If the situation wasn’t so serious, Gojo would reach out to pinch at the cute chub of her cheek and comment on how adorable she appeared, yet he knew better than to try to weasel his way out of this one. 
“Ah, so you were flirting with a bunch of children and a cougar? Sounds a lot better that way, Satoru.” She shot back, sass soaking her words. Her rebuttal had Gojo rethinking his words. The issue with dating a woman like Y/n was she was far more intelligent then himself and simply didn’t fall for his handsome looks and boyish charm, which Gojo relied on when it came to the opposite sex. Not that this was a bad thing, so to say, it was actually one of the thousands of reasons why he loved her so much- she wasn’t shallow minded and saw him far beyond his outward appearance. Setting the presents on her freshly organized desk, Satoru ran a hand through his hair and awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck.
“Technically, it wasn’t flirting in the sense you’re thinking of, I had to distract the class with my charm and good looks so I could sneak Master Tengen’s vessel out of class- I wasn’t lying about us being under attack by another curse user, that was true!”
“What about her number, huh?” Y/n scoffed. 
“She offered it, but I never accepted it.” Luckily he was telling the truth and Y/n believed him. Despite trusting his confession, she didn’t do anything more. 
A silence greeted the couple, neither certain of what to say next. Y/n lifted the blankets from her lap and stood from her bed in front of her boyfriend. Sure the gesture was small, but Satoru took her willingness to step closer to his frame as a good thing as his arms reached out to pull her body against his in a bone crushing hug. His forehead pressed against her shoulder while he kissed the spot. Y/n thought about pulling away for a second, she thought about making him work harder to gain her forgiveness, but his arms felt far too comforting around her body for her to shake him off. With his head buried in her shoulder, Gojo glanced up to Y/n, a softness in his eyes as he spoke,
“Do you forgive me, pretty girl? I’m sorry I made you upset… I don’t like it when you’re mad at me.” 
When she didn’t answer right away, Gojo lifted his head from her so he could properly look her in the eyes. He could visibly see the clouds of anger clearing as she quietly stared back at him. His hand then moved to wrap around the side of her face, his gentleness causing her to melt against his palm. She desperately wanted to smack his hand away, curse him then send him off to his room for the night, but she couldn’t. His touch sparked a series of shivers through her body which only made her long for him to pull her closer. 
A grin broke across his features as he accepted her lack of resistance as approval for his apology and began to move closer towards her face. If she slapped him away, then he’d know he misread the signs, but she didn’t. Their faces were so close in distance Y/n could smell the welcoming scent of peppermint swirling from his parted lips. These were the times she found herself grateful for his sweet tooth, it usually made for sweeter kisses. Wordlessly, Y/n pushed herself to close the distance and pressed her lips to connect to his. Gojo hums as he dips his head lower to gain advantage as he deepens the exchange. 
His mouth is warm against hers, inviting, as he kisses her. She can feel his tongue as it slips inside her mouth, almost like it was entering its second home, seeing as easily as it made itself comfortable and friendly against her own. Her fingers gripped at his white strands, pulling his face closer. All the frustration, all the emotions she had been experiencing towards him for the last day melted into the kiss. Satoru had one hand wrapped around her waist, holding her middle against his hips and his other swooped up around her lifted arm, leaving his hand to rest on the back of her neck, not letting her pull away even if she wanted to. 
Y/n could taste the strawberry chapstick on his lips, the same chapstick he had stolen from her only a week prior. He wasn’t lying, the taste was addictive. Gojo’s lips captured her bottom in a heated move, sucking on the skin with the slightest hint of friction as his teeth light delved into the plumpness. She had no time to muffle the moan passing through her, to which he smirked at the sound. 
A sense of shame washed over her once she realized he had won the silent battle. Instead, Y/n yanked at his hair from the root and pulled his lips back against hers, kissing him with such force he nearly stumbled back a footing. Gojo’s eyes widened in the middle of the kiss, surprised at her boldness and the way her tongue was invading his mouth. He could feel the material of his uniform growing tighter as his jeans constricted against his crotch. Y/n sucked on the silky smoothness of his tongue, small smacks sounding as she dominated the heated makeout. 
A shudder danced down his spine at the feeling of her hand pressed against his groin, his hips subconsciously grinding against her palm. Rubbing her hand along the zipper Y/n toyed with the cool metal, silently teasing her boyfriend as a means of revenge for his actions. Just as she began pulling the slider down, her lips pulled away from him at once, much to Satoru’s disappointment. His mouth hung low as a small whine sounded.
Y/n simply ignored his childish ways, and reached for the bottom of her shirt, causing him to smile once more. Peeling the shirt that belonged to him off her body, Y/n threw it to the floor then fell back against her mattress, motioning Gojo over with the flick of her wrist. Satoru stalked towards her on the bed, almost like a predator sneaking up on it’s prey. His eyes held a look of hunger she rarely saw but bathed in the heat searing from it.
Climbing over her body, Satoru placed himself so he was looming above her, his zipper hanging half undone. Y/n tilted her head, pretending not to understand the look on his face. Gojo shook his head then leaned his face so his lips could skim against her exposed neck. He let his mouth trail up the side of her skin, hot breath fanning over her coolness. His hands lifted to grope at the covering of her bra, giving the material a tug. He came to a stop once his mouth was pressed against the shell of her ear, his voice sending a wave of pleasure straight to her core, 
“I love it when my princess is being a little brat… think I need to put you back in your place.”
Without warning his lips attached to her neck and harshly began to suck at the skin, surely leaving a trail of blotchy red marks. Y/n’s whole body hitched at the overwhelming rush of excitement, her hips lifting only to be shoved back into the mattress by his own which hovered barely an inch above. 
She let her head fall to the side, allowing Satoru more access to her neck, her eyes hardly opened as she basked in the tingling his mouth brought. Hands traveled up and down his back, nails lightly scratching against him as her body wormed from his lips making love to her skin. Y/n nearly closed her eyes all together, she nearly allowed herself to get lost in his kiss, that was until a distant ‘ding’ caught her attention and the phone beside her head lit up. 
A text notification from Suguru popped up on Satoru’s phone, but that wasn’t what caught Y/n’s attention, no, her fixation settled in on the nearly naked photo of the famous model Inoue Waka. The same Inoue Waka that sparked the original fight between the couple, the same Inoue Waka Satoru called hot, the one he declared his dream girl, and same Inoue Waka Satoru said he’d be dating if she’d give him a chance- Y/n was fuming in rage. Pushing both hands on his chest, Y/n physically shoved Satoru off her body causing him to tumble off the side of the bed. His hands flailed out in an attempt to grab for stability, although failed as he rolled to the wood floor, his back smacking against the ground. Gojo laid still on the floor, his mind still trying to process the whole event as he rubbed at the ache on the back of his head. Sitting up straight she reached out for his phone and held it in his face as she screamed,
“Are you fucking kidding me, Satoru?! You put Inoue Waka as your background?!”
“Hehe… that was meant to be a joke…” The fear in his voice transcribed in shaky words as Y/n chucked the phone at him, barely missing his face as he lunged to the side. She snatched his shirt off the ground and threw it back on, covering her chest as Gojo scrambled to grab his cellphone. 
“Fine, I’ve got an even funnier joke for you,” A taunting smile full of hidden anger laced her lips as her finger jutted towards her door. “Get out!” 
His face fell all at once, a deep pout tattooed on his lips. Maybe he should’ve listened to Suguru earlier when he insisted this was a bad idea- if he’d had listened to Suguru, the two would probably be tangled in her bed sheets by now, but no, Gojo had to press her buttons even further. Opening his phone, Satoru clicked on the most recent image of Y/n and faster than the speed of light, set the photo to his new lock and home screen. 
“Aw, c’mon! I’ll change it right now- see! Look, pumpkin, it’s a picture of my favorite girl-” Gojo flipped his phone around, allowing the bright screen to illuminate Y/n’s face. She glanced up, and Satoru watched in utter confusion as her expression went from upset to lividly irate. His heartbeat multiplied in rate, obviously terrified of the disturbing reaction she held to seeing her face on his phone, or what he thought was her face. 
“You fucking asshole.” She growled. If this was his idea of a practical joke, Y/n was ready to make him single. Gojo’s eyes grew like a mass, quickly turning his phone back only to see what caused such a profuse reaction. The image hadn’t changed and was the same exact photo as previously of Inoue Waka propped up on her knees sitting in the sand as her breasts nearly poured out of her excuse of a bikini.
“Shit! I promise I thought I hit save- just give me a second, I’m panicking!” He screeched. His fingers moved at the speed of light as Satoru helplessly tried to set his girlfriend’s smiling face as his background, hoping to at least save some ground between the couple. What he failed to notice in his alarmed state was Y/n reaching out for her phone, scrolling through her photo album and setting a new image on hers. 
“No, no, it’s fine, Gojo, really. I’ll just change my background to a picture of my favorite guy.” The smile she wore was not one of love, no it held more malice, evilness like she had just completed a plot to end the world. Satoru’s head nudged to the side, his eyebrows pulled together in a line of skepticism. 
“I’m already your background, princess…” He mumbled. Clarity was granted as the girl tossed her cellphone, to which he caught with ease. Clicking the power button, Gojo gave a dramatized gasp.
“Is… is that Suguru?! How’d you get this picture? Did he send this to you? Oh my god I’m going to kill him-” 
“I think he looks cute.” Y/n smirked. Obviously it was all a ruse to get back at him for his immaturity, but she couldn’t help the sense of pride creeping up at the over the top reaction from Gojo. The photo itself came from a night out the couple shared, one with their usual third wheel, Geto. Four shots in and five mixed drinks, Suguru was having quite the time, which led to a gallery full of images that he insisted the three took together- and if Gojo would look a little closer, he’d notice the small wisps of pure white hair sticking out from the edge of the cropped image, but Y/n didn’t need to tell him that, it was far more amusing to see him frantic. 
Large blue eyes pleaded up at her as Gojo kneeled in front of the bed, his hands folded like prayer.
“Princess, please put my picture back! I changed mine back to you- please!”
Her finger tapped against the blush to her cheek, pretending to be lost in thought. This was pure torture as Gojo continued to beg at her feet. 
“Hm. I’m not sure- I do have a picture of that adorable first year Haibara in there somewhere…” No, absolutely not, that was Satoru’s last straw. No way in hell would his beautiful girlfriend have a photo of that first year sorcerer always obsessed with impressing Suguru as her background- never ever! Gojo was already annoyed their peer favored his best friend over himself, but having his own girlfriend joke about giving them attention, fuck no.  Holding her phone above his head and out of her teasing reach, Satoru screeched, 
“Ah! You’re going to replace me with a first year?! What?!”
Folding her arms in a crossed fashion against her chest, Y/n gave the hysterical teen a ‘told you so’ glare. 
“Now you know how I felt.” She said matter-of-factly. 
Satoru had to physically bite his tongue to keep the word ‘brat’ from tumbling past his lips. Yes, he used the term as one of endearment, but that was when the two were in their usual jovial mood- now was not the time and now. Gojo understood what she was hinting at, he got the message she was referring to their earlier argument and the various comments he had made towards the famous model, but that didn’t mean he agreed with her. In his mind, there was a clear difference between joking about having a crush on someone in the public eye and joking about having a crush on a fellow classmate. 
“Well at least my background was a celebrity that I have no real chance with. If you asked that first year out he’d probably say yes on the spot then pass out- and Suguru would say yes just to spite me!” His voice was teetering a cry as he threw his head against the bed. 
“I would never actually ask them out, Satoru. In case you haven’t noticed, I love you. Why do you think I was so upset about all those things you said before you and Suguru left? You basically admitted I’m not your dream girl but some famous, perfectly perfect model, who I look nothing like, is. Then you went on about how lucky I should feel being with you, as if I’m not already insecure about our relationship.” Gojo’s heart sunk at her words, regret filling his insides. “It hurt my feelings, Satoru.”
“I’m sorry, princess… I really am. I never meant to hurt you, I guess I thought I was being funny but… it’s really not true.” For the first time in maybe ever, Satoru’s tone sounded different. His voice no longer held that casual cockiness and confidence it usually oozed, no, he sounded timid… possibly the most serious he’s ever sounded in his life. The man who played life like it was the board game itself now stood before the woman he loved looking scared. Y/n’s face scrunched in question, slightly taken aback by the sincerity he expressed. 
“What’s not true?”
“What I said about Inoue Waka, she’s not my dream girl, you are.” Satoru stated. He needed Y/n to see the truth to his words, to believe she was the only girl for him, because she was. As fun as it was to tease his girlfriend, it was only amusing when she was in on the joke. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her. Satoru could see now how truly uncomfortable she was with his comments and it made him feel like a piece of shit knowing he planted a seed of insecurity in her mind. 
It was almost as if Gojo could see the shield Y/n placed around herself, around her heart. She was a hard one to crack, but getting to be the soul she finally let inside meant the entire word to Satoru and he had no intention of breaking that trust ever again. 
“And I’m the one who’s so fucking lucky to get to call you mine. You’re everything I could ever ask for in a girlfriend and more. You put up with me and you’re the only person who ever laughs at my jokes- and you know all my favorite snacks and treats… you even know all the things I’m scared of, which losing you is at the top of my list. I’m sorry that I ever made you doubt us, or made you feel insecure… I really am sorry, Y/n.”
The room turned quiet as Gojo’s confession hung in the air. Y/n didn’t speak, she wouldn’t even move. Instead, her eyes planted on the blanket in her lap, mindlessly losing herself in the pattern while her mind raced, replaying his words over and over again. Gojo examined her odd behavior, part of him perplexed at her lack of response. Y/n had a response for everything, for every situation. For the first time in their two year relationship Gojo was witnessing her in a speechless state, and for as much as he joked about her bratness and stubborn ways, he hated not hearing her voice. A minute passed until Satoru decided he had enough of missing her sound. As he opened his mouth, about to ask if she was okay, a shout sounded from her throat. 
“Ugh! I hate when you do that!” Y/n cried out. There was a thin row of salty tears teetering her waterline. Dread filled Gojo at the sight. He never meant to make her cry. Standing to his feet Satoru sat himself next to her on the bed, his hands reaching out to grasp her own in trepidation. His thumb drew anxious circles across her skin, a method he’d learned that usual calmed her down, yet her tears steadily fell. 
“W-What? Do what?” He asked in a wavering voice. With her free hand, Y/n harshly rubbed at her eyes, wiping the tears that continued to roll down her reddening cheeks. A few splashed against his hand that clutched hers, but he didn’t care. A scarlet ring formed around her e/c eyes as she glanced up to Satoru, a mix of agitation and sadness filling her. 
“When you’re all sweet and say things that make my insides feel like they’re all mushy and- ugh, I hate how much I love you. It’s so annoying!” She cried out. 
A wave of solace splash his bay at her words, along with the returning embrace as her hand squeezed his. He let out a sigh of relief, grateful his words had caused good tears this time. Bringing her hand up to his face, Gojo danced a trail of kisses along her knuckles and smiled. Still holding her hand, Satoru lightly urged the girl to lay back on the mattress and he climbed in next to her. Her head rested softly against the pillow, Gojo’s arm encircling her waist as he turned her body to face his. Once he could see her beautiful face, he let his hand wrap under her chin with a feather light grip. 
“I happen to love how much you love me, pretty girl.” 
His lips pressed a sweet kiss to her temple, then placed another to her forehead, then lastly a chaste and loving kiss to her lips. Y/n nuzzled her head against his touch, the shakiness to her breathing beginning to slow. Gojo removed his hand from her chin as he felt her wiggling closer until her head was laid up on his chest. The sound of his heart beat echoed in her ear and she cuddled into his warmth. A comfortable blanket of peace took control of the room as the couple enjoyed the feeling of holding one another. Satoru’s hand ran up and down her back in an act of comfort. His touch always made her feel more at ease. The moment of tranquility lasted a good portion until Y/n briefly pulled herself away from Gojo, an unfamiliar gleam to her gaze. Satoru tilted his head, unfamiliar to the unusual look, when Y/n lifted her hand to stroke the side of his cheek, as she spoke in a mask of sweetness,
“I swear Satoru, if you ever set Inoue Waka as your homescreen again, I’ll murder you then chop your body up and dump it in the ocean.” One might expect a rational response to such a threat would be fear, not Satoru Gojo. A cheesy grin broke out as his hold tightened around her body, pulling her closer to him.
“I know you will, princess, and that’s why I love you… even if you are a brat at times.”
Her hand smacked against her arm, faking a pout while snuggling further in. 
“Shut up, you love me because I’m a brat.” She remarked. They both knew it was true. Satoru could feign annoyance over her attitude, he could pretend she was too ‘difficult’ for him, but in all honesty, bratty was exactly the way Satoru loved her. 
“You know me too well.”
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asahicore · 4 months
Text
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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