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#day 7: fluff
highhhfiveee · 5 months
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okay here me out. abby teasing reader about having a crush on mike, and when he's around very 'subtle' teasing from abby to reader... SORRY IF THIS DOESNT MAKE SENSE BUT ITS BEEN ON MY MIND.
it makes sense! i was working on a little ficlet for the "mint" series and i think this works with it (,:
self care
a "mint" ficlet. read the og here: 🍫
tags: mint!mike and reader, fluff, no warnings, just cute stuff (:
mike lets out a long sigh as he turns the car off, rubbing his hands down his face. security work is exhausting, and while he understands working overnight shifts, he doesn't see how it's healthy.
he's always tired, always irritable, always ready to call it quits and say "fuck work", staying home until he's caught up on his winks.
it would be a dream for him, he thinks, but he knows it's not realistic. he's doing this to better his life, better abby's life; it would all be worth it in the end, he hoped.
he exits the car with no urgency, trotting his way to the front door. he's excited to see you and abby, eager to sit and eat breakfast with you guys, tell you about his night.
he turns the knob and it gives with no trouble, which makes his heart rate tick up. the door is never unlocked.
he bursts inside frantically, beginning to panic a bit when he sees that you aren't in your usual spot on the couch, cuddled into one of the blankets or sweeping your green mint wrappers into your hand. the tv wasn't on. there wasn't anything happening in the kitchen.
it was eerily quiet, too quiet for his liking.
"y/n?" he calls, wildly hanging his security vest and kicking off his shoes. "abby?"
mike wonders why the two of you aren't answering, beginning down the hall with his hands balled into anxious fists. what if something had happened to you two? what if he went into one of the rooms and found something undesirable, something that turned him frigid and reserved? what if someone had hurt you?
the light's on in the bathroom, framing the closed door in a fuzzy ring of yellow gold. mike hears voices, muffled but persistent, and music. it's all it takes for him to lean against the door, grip the doorknob and count down before he charges into the wood, slamming the door open and yelling into the bathroom.
you and abby squeal, bodies wracked with fear. you both have green paste all over your faces, spread around your eyes and mouths in a precise layer. you're holding onto your chest as you try to calm down, tapping on your phone to stop the music you're playing. abby heaves angrily, marching over to mike and giving him a moderately powered shove. "not funny, mike!"
"i wasn't trying to be funny," he utters, huffing along with you two. "i thought someone had broken in or something. the door was unlocked and i called for both of you but you didn't answer. i was terrified." you frown, shaking your head in disappointment at yourself.
"i'm really sorry, mike. i took the trash out earlier and i guess i forgot to lock the door when i came back in. i would never try to put abby in harm's way."
"no, no, it's okay," mike returns, taking a deep-rooted sigh of relief now that he knows you two are safe. "i know you wouldn't. mistakes happen, i just lost it a little. wouldn't want anything to ever happen to you two."
your cheeks heat up at "you two". you're flattered that he cares about your safety at the same level that he cares about abby's, or at all really. you knew that abby meant everything to him, but you wondered just how much you meant to him, exactly.
"that's totally understandable. sorry i didn't hear you calling either, we were kind of caught up in the music and face masks," you chuckle shyly, pulling the sleeves of the forest green sweatshirt you were wearing over your hands. it's mike's sweatshirt, one that he thinks he remembers giving to abby sometime ago. you look good in it.
"y/n was teaching me about 'self care', and how doing little things for myself is important. we started with skincare, see?" abby places her hands under her chin, using them to hold her face as she smiles.
it hadn't been your plan to use your $40 face mask on abby this morning, but you didn't mind. you'd been in the bathroom, humming along to the soothing ambient music that floated from your phone speakers and smothering your face in green like you'd be starring in Wicked when she appeared in the doorframe, bleary eyed and lethargic. "may i pee?"
you exited the bathroom and closed the door behind you, opening it back up once you heard the toilet flush and the faucet run. "what's on your face?" she asked, shaking the water off of her hands.
"it's a face mask. this one is my personal favorite. it's specifically for moisturizing the skin, but there are so many other ones that do different things. i do them sometimes as a part of self care."
"what's self care?"
"i can explain it to you. want to try some of the mask after you brush your teeth?" she nodded happily, beginning to shed any trace of sleepiness.
"my skin is a bit dry." you laughed at her, helping her with her toothbrush. after, you'd sat her on the bathroom counter, scooping product with your middle and ring fingers and smearing it across abby's delicate skin.
"so, it's just like...taking care of yourself? literal self care?" you nodded, filling in whatever gaps you could find.
"mhm. just doing small things to make yourself feel better, happy, more fulfilled. we all need to take care of ourselves, living these lives. it's important to remember to take time for yourself when you need it, okay? taking breaks is good. humans need rest."
"mike never rests," she admitted, pouting at the thought of mike working all the time, tired and distant from the strain on his mental and physical health. "i don't even think he knows what rest is."
"i'm sure he does, he's just working hard to make sure you're never in need. he cares about you a lot, and wants you to be safe, and happy, and taken care of."
"which is nice," abby muttered, turning to look at her face in the mirror. she smiled, humming in contentment before facing you again. "i just wish he would go do something. take off from work and go out. go on a date." you jovially scoff at her words, tickling at her abdomen.
"what do you know about dating, huh? does mike even like dates?"
"i think he'd like a date with you." your entire body flushed with mortification, and you stepped back from abby, stumbling over your words with nervous laughter.
"t-t-there's no way he would, abby. that's silly. i don't even like him like that, it would be unprofessional..." you bit at your bottom lip, avoiding abby's eyes.
"oh please. you're my unpaid babysitter, not a salaried nanny," she reassured curtly, and you frowned at her, playfully insulted. "plus, i know you have a crush on him, y/n. it's so obvious. i saw you nearly die when he gave you those mints. i'm sure he see stuff like that too if he wasn't so clueless about everything."
you nodded, gnawing at your bottom lip so hard you drew blood. "well, jeez, thank you for the exposé, abby. still, i don't think he feels the same way. he has no time to think about me." abby only squinted at you, her lips pursed with amusement.
"or so you think." you'd waved her off, pivoting the subject by showing her your skincare collection, explaining all the different tubes and bottles. you'd fanned them out over the counter, grouping things by step.
"and this is vitamin c...usually comes before your moisturizer and helps with dark spots, dullness...you have to wear sunscreen when you wear it, but you should be wearing sunscreen everyday anyway bec----"
mike had burst in at this moment, scaring the shit out of both you and abby. how you'd forgotten to lock the door, you didn't know, but you're glad mike had gotten home before anyone else could enter.
now, mike just tiredly returns his sister's smile. "that's nice, abs."
"yeah, was telling y/n that you should try it. you need to rest and take care of yourself." mike nods, pursing his lips in that tickled way that abby did earlier.
"that so? do a couple of face masks, take a bath, and make some tea to renew myself?"
"sounds like a plan to me," abby cheers, looking towards you. "add going on a date to the list and now, we're talkin'."
"a date?" mike ridicules, shaking his head at abby's frivolous suggestion. "a date with who?"
"i may know someone," abby teases, winking over at you so unmistakably that you're sure you're going to combust with the number of times you've flushed hot. "someone not too far, in fact."
mike can tell that abby is killing you, prodding at your private, adult feelings and decides to make her stop. "okay, abs, that's enough. wash your face while i go talk to y/n, okay? and no eavesdropping."
"i can try, but not promise."
"abby," mike asserts, and she shrinks under his serious stare, mumbling, "okay, okay, jeez."
you follow mike out into the living room, once again tugging at the sleeves of his sweatshirt. it drapes over you nicely, about one size too big, and the color looks so nice against your skin, rich and earthy.
"thanks for looking after her, as always," he commends, eyes still trained on you as you return his kindness with a soft "yeah, always. sorry again about the door." but mike dismisses your apology with a wave.
after a moment, he says, "that sweatshirt's nice," rubbing his fingers against his stubbled chin.
you drop your gaze down, smiling at the clothing item. you liked it a lot. it was super comfy and smelled like their place, pacifying you through the late night and early morning. "oh thanks. i left my sweater at home and abby let me borrow this one. it's so cute on her but it's super big."
"yeah," mike snickers, letting out some air through his nose. "that's 'cause it's mine." your body's color is replaced with flaming red, burning from the top of your forehead to the soles of your feet. how many more times could you be embarrassed this morning?
"oh my god, i'm so sorry. here, i can give it back," you panic, beginning to pull the item over your head, careful to not get your face mask on it. mike stops you with a hand to your elbow, a gentle graze that doesn't move even when you have the sweatshirt back over your torso.
"hey, hey, no need. i gave it to her but i like how it looks on you. you look really beautiful...face mask and all." you blush vehemently, whimpering out "thank you" and bringing your thumb to your mouth to gnaw at so you don't say something else you might regret. you're sure mike can read your jitteriness, and you try to slip into a cool girl attitude when his eyes toss coyness your way.
you'd been babysitting abby for a while, and something about the way you continued to despite the hours and not being paid softened mike. of course he intended on paying you, but even when he did, he would always remember you as so kind, so generous; such a beautiful soul in a beautiful body.
"so...about that date?" he proposes, and the two of you hear a hushed, "yes!" around the corner of the wall. you both turn towards it, catching abby as she runs across the hall to her room.
"abby!"
"i said try!"
how flipping CUTE! i love cute shit like this, and after writing so much smut, it was nice to write something oh so sweet (((: gonna be posting smut next though lmao, just something slight, something slight. hope you enjoyed!
faire's seedlings ✿
@leahdhopkins4321-@pyr0-kai-@angstywhore-@sunazroo-@nyxthoughtss-@mirophobic-@fayethor-@marixsimps-@regretfulme-@ithinkitszeph-@707xn-@cattt777-@violetta-ximena-@amnesia33-@topnerd03-@fastnights-@laprvphette-@savage-aespa-@mfdxz-@0-tatiana-0-@dusstory
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cumulo-stratus · 6 months
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They're Ours
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(GIF NOT MINE)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader
Description: My HC's around Spencer and sharing clothes over the course of your relationship.
Warnings: slight nsfw(mentions of sex and others), !!Spoiler warning for season 10!! lemme know if theres anything else!
Flufftober Day 7: Sharing clothes
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At the beginning of the relationship (in like season 1/2) Spencer doesn't even realize couple sharing clothes is a thing
like if he would come home late from a case to find you asleep wearing something of his he is kinda confused but finds he loves it
And then in the morning he would ask you about and and you would say you missed him
"your wearing my shirt-"
"I know, I just missed you"
"oh."
I think after around a year Spencer would be super used to it and wears some of your clothes too
like he would totally sneak one of your old college hoodies that are too big for him at the bottom of his go back some times
its the only time he wears hoodies
sometimes he can't wait to just go back to his hotel room and put it on
he just misses you and feels comforted by the familier smell
and after while of things like this you would regularly wear clothes from each others closet, not for comfort- just because they go better with the outfit
And this helped Spencer explore more fun patterns and colors through your clothes without the commitment of buying new clothes
and if you're an agent he would totally give you his FBI jacket
like im imagining you get bashed in the head and get a gash on your forehead while catching the unsub
and Spencer rushes over searching for you desperately
only knowing your injured, but the extent
and when he does find you and sees the goosebumps from the cold breeze he doesn't hesitate to wrap his puffy fbi jacket around you shoulders while the paramedic works on your forehead
Another image I had in my head is like gag gifts
like It would be so cute if you get Spencer those boxers you can personalize with a collage of your your face on it so he can quote "always be close to you"
and he would blush a lot and think that this was his real gift until you pull out the real gift
I think post prison Spencer would absolutely adore it when you wear his clothes because he needs that reminder that your still there when he notices a shirt or a cardigan missing
and he just meds to feel loved so he starts almost preferring your clothes over his because he's been deprived of you for so long
also I think after prison he would also find your wearing one of his shirts rly hot and when first sees you wearing one of his shirts again he has to have you
he would approach you at the counter while your making tea
He would wrap his arms around your waist and whisper deeply in your ear
"you look amazing in my clothes.."
"oh really?"
he would only hum as he kisses your neck..
you know the rest ;)
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icycoldninja · 3 months
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Fluffcember #20 (SOLDIER boys + Reno x reader)
Owning a cat headcannons
♡Sephiroth♡
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-Takes a little while (think 4-5 months) for him to learn to tolerate the cat, and nearly double that time for him to accept it as part of his life, which is understandable, considering that he's practically a cat himself.
-He'll let you pick the first name, but he chooses the surname (yes, your cat has a surname), and it's something remarkably humanoid. Imagine explaining to the vet that your cat's name is Sparklepaws Pembleton-Clark.
-Once he gets used to the feline, he'll start seeing it as his sibling. He will have full on conversations with the cat, ones that are very serious and not at all baby talk. When the cat wants to eat, a conversation like this might take place:
"Good morning/afternoon/evening, Pembleton-Clark, what would you prefer for your meal today?"
"Meow."
"Ah, cat food, a fine choice. Please be seated and I shall deliver your food presently."
"Meow."
"You're very welcome. Have you read the paper, by the way? I heard there was a sale on feline litter at the local supermarket."
-Will play with the cat and tickle it; occasionally can be spotted on the couch with the fluffy fur-baby in his lap, stroking and petting it while watching TV or reading.
-Basically, the pet is family, once he gets used to it.
◇Genesis◇
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-Loves the cat the minute you bring it home. He'll pick it up and carry it around, cooing at it like it's a baby.
"Awwwww, who's a good little fluffy snookums? You are! Yes, you are! My pretty little puffy fluffle--awww so cute. Soooo cute."
-INSISTS upon naming it; your cat is officially called Her Divine Majesty Emperess Gen-Gen II, and there is nothing you can do to change that.
-Pampers the cat, giving it baths every month and grooming it as well as keeping its claws trimmed and it's fur nice and shiny.
-Sometimes he even ties it's fur up into little pigtails and decorates it with hairclips before taking pictures of it and sending them to you.
-Coddles the cat, spoiling and playing with it whenever he can. He sees your pet as an extension of himself, and therefore treats it the way he wants to be treated. (Lavishly)
-Adores the cat and always will, just as he adores you.
♧Angeal♧
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-Angeal is the embodiment of the dad who says "We're not getting a cat" and then proceeds to adore and spoil the cat like a young child. He was against getting a pet, but then saw the fluffy little thing you pointed to and just caved.
-Lets you name it because he doesn't care what it's called. Unless you named it after yourself. Then he can't even look at it without tearing up.
-Is a true tsundere towards that cat, always giving it the side eye; regarding it with cold professionalism. But deep down, he loves that furry thing and will definitely let it sleep on the bed with him.
-Buys it toys and those little tree jungle gym things, as well as treats. As stated before, he keeps a cold front but truly adores that kitty.
-Will let it sit in his lap while he does paperwork, and sometimes even brings it to Shinra with him. (everyone gets jealous and always wants to pet it)
-All in all, loves that furry cutie, even when it scratches up the furniture and tears up his socks.
☆Reno ☆
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-He and the cat eyed each other at the pet shop for 10 full minutes before he agreed to taking it home. Reno has had experience with cats, having owned one himself before, and knows exactly what kind of trouble they are.
-Very suspicious of the cat for the first several weeks but soon eases into its company, once he's sure it won't tear up his stuff. He soon goes from uncomfortable and jittery to relaxed and loving.
-He'll pet the cat, feed the cat, play with the cat, and even eat with the cat. He'll literally have a cat food bowl and a highchair set up so the cat can eat at the table like a human. It's the most adorable thing ever.
-Once he and the cat have bonded enough, he decides to make it his partner in crime. He'll try to train it by giving it treats whenever it knocks over a specific object, except the cat gets the wrong idea and thinks it'll get a treat whenever it knocks stuff over, so Reno has essentially turned your cat into a furry wrecking ball.
-Has decided to name your cat Sir-Smashes-A-Lot in light of this behavior. A cute name for a cute (but mischevious) cat.
-Sometimes he'll use a pet-friendly fur dye and dye Sir-Smashes-A-Lot's fur to match his. You might come home to find both your boyfriend and pet sporting bright green locks of fur/hair.
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merantidote · 6 months
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DAY SEVEN: IN ANOTHER LIFE
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or the world in which laurance succumbs
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what's new pussycat?
Promptober Day 28 - Black Cat Promptober Masterlist
2039 words.
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He knows Taylor Swift is to blame for Brittany’s sudden fixation with getting a cat. His girlfriend had come home from a weekend away in the pop singer's New York apartment, starry-eyed and dancing from room to room.
“Do you think if we got a cat, the dogs would kill it?”
“Yes.” He snorts, turning the page of his book.
Without a doubt, the dogs would tear their new feline friend to shreds the moment it stepped through the door. They’d only just begun to break them of the habit of pulling squirrels from the fences to play with, and he didn’t really fancy cleaning up a cat carcass from the back garden.
“Oh.”
She frowns, and he puts his book down, it's barely holding his attention anyway. He watches Brittany’s face as she mulls over her thoughts, and he knows she thinks this conversation will end with him agreeing to get a cat, and honestly, he’ll give her anything she wants. He’ll move the ends of the Earth to make sure she never wants for anything, but this is something he’s not going to budge on.
She’ll be distraught when it doesn’t turn out the way she’s envisaged in her head. It won’t be a fairytale where they walk in the door and Mayhem and Allen wag their tails, and cuddle up to the tiny kitten, nudging it gently and adoring it forever. Their dogs didn’t like cats, that much had been proven at his last house when they barked all day and night long trying to get to the neighbour’s pet who used to sit on the top of the concrete walls, in their direct eyeline. Taunting them with a mischievous look in its eye.
“It’s just,” She begins, sighing deeply. Sighing dramatically. “The dogs are yours, and I’ve never had a pet of my own.”
Arching a brow, he looks to Mayhem, draped across Brittany’s lap on the couch, staring at her adoringly. “We’re not getting a cat.”
She keeps going.
“After everything with my family, I think I need something that’s just mine, you know? Something that loves me for me…”
Rolling his eyes, he rolls his head on his shoulder to look at her fully. She’s not being serious, surely.
“That’s the card you wanna play? Really?”
“Is it working?” She grins.
“We’re not getting a cat.”
~~~
They get a cat.
Well, actually…
Brittany had needled away at him until he relented. Pestering him every day for months, sending him cute videos she finds on TikTok and selfies with the strays that Mr. Davis looks after in New York while she’d been away recording. Then Taylor starts sending him videos too, showing him the cool tricks her cats can do (none, really. They just sort of sat there looking cute.)
(No, not cute. They’re not getting a cat.)
“We can go and look, but we’re not coming home with one.” He’d said sternly at the start of the day.
“I love you, I love you, I love you!” Brittany squeals, pressing her lips to his before she rushes to the garage to get in the car.
He hated being the voice of reason sometimes. Reminding her, as she endlessly chattered away in the passenger seat, that they were only looking. He was giving her an inch and was not going to let her take a mile. The dogs would seriously kill any cat that came through the front door, and he was hoping that by letting her sit and play with a few kittens maybe her obsession would die down.
(He’s sure that she’s a few days away from making a PowerPoint presentation on why they should get a cat.)
The shelter is loud as they pull up. Dogs bark and whine throughout the concrete walls, and the smell is atrocious. The pep in Brittany’s step never falters as they reach the front desk, requesting to see the cats available to adopt. An attendant with blue hair offers to show them around, and he trails behind looking into all the pens as they walk by.
It makes him kind of sad to see how many animals had been abandoned, and his stomach twists at the thought of leaving today emptyhanded. He thinks maybe he’ll throw some money at the problem instead to ease some of his guilt.
Stepping into the cat area and closing the door behind him, it's like they’re in another world. Everything is clean and bright; there’s no smell, and gentle music plays from an old stereo in the corner. Fluffy kittens roll around with toys on the floor, and some older cats lay perched on the towers scattered around the room, eyeing the newcomers with cautious curiosity.
Brittany immediately drops to the floor, gently reaching her hand out to some of the tiny babies, and he stands with the attendant.
“How long did you manage to hold out before coming here today?” She asks, humour gracing her smirk.
“Not long enough,” he sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’ve got two dogs at home. I don’t know if this is going to work.”
“Cats are more resilient than they seem.” The attendant wanders off to where Brittany’s making her way around the room, introducing herself to each of the felines like they actually gave a shit.
A swish in his peripheral has him turning away. An older, greying cat lay along one of the shelves lining the walls, elegantly splayed out and tail gently flicking through the air. They stare at each other a long while before he puts his hand out for it to sniff. Its little nose inhales the scent around his fingers before blinking slowly at him while he scratches the fur between its ears.
“That’s one of our old girls,” the attendant calls over. “She’s a biter, so just watch your hands.”
He’s surprised at the information, especially when the cat rolls over, exposing her belly and letting his nails scratch over the soft fur. Her big blue eyes trail his every move as he pushes down gently on her paw pads, exposing her claws before scratching down her spine. She purrs loudly, a vibrating noise that soothes him, and he feels himself being hypnotised by the sound.
He doesn’t know why he’s thinking about his Nana right now, but her smiling face and bright red nails pop into his mind. He thinks maybe she’d own a cat like this, pretty and elegant. Just like her. It would sit on the sofa with her as she watched her programs and curl up next to her in bed at night among the many decorative pillows.
Brittany announces that she’s ready to leave and think about her decision, and the attendant smiles at her before showing the way to the basins to wash their hands. He gives one last scratch between the cat’s ears before heading out of the room and ignoring the way his gut is telling him not to leave it there.
The attendant waits for him to finish drying his hands on the paper towels as Brittany heads outside.
“I’m sorry you guys didn’t find what you were looking for today.” She says sadly. “I thought maybe Annie had chosen you, but I guess not.”
He feels like he’s choking on air.
“Annie?”
“Sorry, yeah, the older gal you were petting. She’s been here a few years now, one of our longest residents. She doesn’t warm up to folks that quickly, but it looked like she’d chosen you.”
“Her name is Annie?” He repeats.
He looks back through the glass at the quiet swishing of a grey tail belonging to the cat he’d spent the last 20 minutes with.
“Yeah, but you can change it. Cats are pretty good with that sort of thing.” The attendant corrects.
“No,” he stammers. “No, its perfect.”
He looks outside to Brittany’s downcast face and back to the older cat watching him through the window.
“Is she any good with dogs?”
~~~
The dogs go predictably feral at the sight of their new family member, but little Annie cat, to her credit, holds her own. She doesn’t back away when they bark at her, she stands her ground and gets her heckles up. She swipes at Mayhem once who’s so terrified that he hides behind Brittany for the rest of the evening. Allen is a little more difficult to read. He doesn’t growl or make any noise, really, but he does bare his teeth now and then as Annie gets used to her surroundings.
The first night, they lock the dogs downstairs and set up their new pet in the master bedroom. Annie puts herself at home on his pillow, and Brittany looks downright peeved that the cat already loves him more than her.
“I’m not going to fight for your attention.” She snarked.
“How do you think I felt when the dog I’d had for years decided to love you more than me,” he laughed. “It’s the first day. She’ll get used to you eventually, and it’ll be fine.”
This doesn’t exactly wind up being true.
Annie tolerates Brittany at best, but she’s very much his cat. She sleeps on his chest every night, sits outside the shower waiting for him to finish and follows him around the house when he’s home. She cries on his side of the wardrobe whenever he has to leave on extended trips, and acts horribly until he returns, knocking over picture frames and pushing vases of flowers he’d sent to Brittany off the kitchen counter.
Then one day, everything changes.
Brittany wakes up, and their little Annie cat is curled around her side. She turns her head to see if Matty’s still in the bed and curiously wonders why his cat is next to her, purring away like a motorboat. She’s even allowed to scratch between her ears and rub her thumb along her furry face.
Matty’s smug, reminding her that he said this would happen, that she just had to give it time.
Annie follows her around for the next few days like a bad smell, always wanting to be close, crawling gently into her lap during every meal, and when Brittany talks to her, the cat meows back like they’re having a conversation. Then the dogs begin following her around, sitting at her feet and fighting for the coveted spot at the end of the bed each night, on top of her feet.
Her boyfriend gets in a mood because once again, all of their pets have abandoned him in favour of her instead. He still tries to call Allen over to sit with him while they watch TV, but the dog doesn’t budge from his place by her feet. Annie ignores him altogether and practically hisses at him when he tries to scratch between her ears. He stomps upstairs after that.
She finds him reclined on the bed, flicking through the channels on the TV, pausing briefly on the football highlights before moving on. Closing the door behind her and locking the pets out, she crawls onto his lap, draping her body over his chest. His arm wraps around her back, his fingers intertwining with the ends of her hair as he continues looking at the screen.
“It’s never just you and me anymore,” she mumbles against the scratchy wool of his sweater.
“Not with your little shadows around, it’s not.”
“Jealous?” She grins, looking up at him.
“Fuckin’ course I am.” He huffs.
“Don’t worry about it,” she presses her lips to the underside of his jaw, and his hand rubs up and down her spine. “In about nine months they’ll forget all about me too.”
His hand stills and his head snaps to look at her.
“What?” He breathes out, eyes wide.
Brittany bites her lip. “I haven’t taken a test yet, but I’m pretty sure.”
“Let’s make it 100% then.”
Matty rips off her clothes and makes good on his promise.
~~~
Brittany was right though. Nine months and 30+ hours of labour hell later, their pets do forget all about them in favour of the new born that comes home with them from the hospital with her green eyes and his curly hair.
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dailyreverie · 6 months
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Make this feel like home
A/N: What is it about Santiago Garcia that makes me think of the most domestic scenarios? jesus christ the way I made myself yearn with this one.... Anyway... hope y'all like it!
@flufftober - Day 7 Porch swing
Pairing: Santiago Garcia x reader
Word count: 723 words
CW: ...is domestic Santi a content warning?
Flufftober masterlist
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You could watch Santiago setting up a swing all day. You had the perfect view of him from the living room, big arms and backwards cap, drill in one hand and a nail between his lips, all too distracting to focus on your reading. And sure, the view was great, but the thought of him being there, finally at home and not chasing people anymore, it wasn't just about the swing, but it was about the future you were building together.
It was Santi settling down, choosing himself over the life-threatening job that kept running him down to the ground; it was choosing you, who kept waiting years and years for him to get to your arms and start the rest of your lives together, and now that you had him there, you were sure you were never letting him go.
Hanging a swing could have been your idea, but Santi had been on board since the first minute, claiming the task of hanging in over your porch. An hour had passed since you last heard his frustrated grunt, and the only sound now was the soft rustling of leaves in the afternoon breeze. You couldn't help but wonder if Santiago had finished or if the chair had defeated him, sending him crashing to the ground.
Curiosity got the better of you and you headed outside only to be greeted by the sight of the perfectly hung swing overlooking your once-green backyard, now slowly turning a warm shade of yellow. Santiago sat on the swing, his head tilted back and his eyes closed. You knew he was awake when you noticed the gentle sway of his legs, rocking the hanging chair back and forth.
Without a word, you settled down beside him, the swing a perfect fit for just the two of you. Santiago's arm found its way around your waist effortlessly, and you snuggled closer, draping your legs across his lap.
“It looks great,” Your compliment came with a soft care of your fingertips against his tummy, pulling a quiet chuckle out of him.
“Good,” You heard the exhaustion in his voice, yet it was still accompanied by a smile. “It was a pain in the ass.”
 “I could hear that.” You joined his soft laughter, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “Thanks, Santi.”
“Nothing to thank, mi amor,” He assured you with a kiss against your temple, meeting your eyes for a brief moment of quiet smiles. The world outside your little balcony seemed to slow down, and all that mattered was this moment - the two of you, wrapped in each other's arms.
You stayed quiet for a moment. In those minutes you were sure Santi was falling in and out of sleep, the warmth of your body being the last thing he needed to be completely comfortable to do so.
The late afternoon sun began to turn your white porch golden and the air was getting colder by the second, but the gentle sway of the swing along with Santi’s warm arms, created a cocoon of comfort that was too inviting to walk away from. As you looked out over the yard you couldn't help but smile at the thought of this being your home: the garden, the sunset, Santi and your balcony. It was a scene straight out of your wildest dreams.
Santi's voice broke you out of your peaceful daydream, surprising you as he spoke of a gazebo. He pointed to a corner of the yard, his eyes filled with excitement. "Over there, a small gazebo with a fire pit, maybe with some fairy lights."
You couldn't help but tease him, given his earlier struggle with the swing. "You could barely hang a swing, baby."
"I could bring the guys to help!" Santiago's enthusiasm was infectious, and you found yourself leaning in to kiss his cheek once more.
“Then a gazebo it is.” His fingers poked your skin at the sound of your mocking tone, making you both laugh.
Santiago's eyes sparkled with anticipation. "I'll make it happen, and we’ll see who laughs then.”
You chuckled, knowing that Santiago's determination would see the project through. "I have no doubt about it, Santi."
As the day turned into evening, you both stayed on the swing, enjoying the gentle rocking motion and each other's company in your own little sanctuary.
✨🍂✨🍂✨🍂✨🍂✨🍂✨🍂✨🍂✨🍂✨🍂
Thanks for reading! Pleasae reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!
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chrissy-dont-talk · 7 days
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MY MAN’S A YEAR OLDER‼️🤭❤️
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leelaslittleworld · 9 days
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What an amazing day to be a Cuban 🥰
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formulaforza · 1 year
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daddy-daughter dance-- d.ricciardo
pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader word count: 770 a/n: just like. who else would I write this about yk?
He’s been talking about it for ages, dreaming about it since you found out you were having a girl. They still do those, right? He’s asked, said his sister went to one every year when she was young. 
They do, still do it, you learned when she was five, and a newsletter came home with her from school advertising it. Baby, look at this, you told him, tapped on the headline in the corner of the page. Father-daughter dance. 
It was a Saturday, and he’d made a whole day out of it. Woke up early, earlier than usual, and made her favorite breakfast, served it to her in bed, woke her up with a soft kiss on the forehead, moving her sweaty hair from her face. 
After breakfast, they go to the spa–get pedicures. Daniel sends you lots of pictures, even more videos of her giggling uncontrollably in the big chair. After much contemplation, she chooses rainbow nails, with rainbow sparkles. A classy decision, Daniel tells her from behind the camera in the video he sent, very smart. 
When they get home she gifts you with two sets of foam toe separators, says they’re for the next time the two of you have a girls night. You thank her, put them in the bin that all of your nail polish is in, and then you start on her hair. 
She has his curls, long and thick and  wild and unruly. They’ve never been easy to tame. You wet them down, soak them with a spray bottle and slowly work through the tangles. “Are you excited to go to the dance with daddy?” You asked her, tugged on her hair and apologized. 
“I’m so excited!” She told you, mirrored your actions on the Barbie doll in her lap. “Me’s and Daddy will has so much fun.”
“You and Daddy will have so much fun.” You nod, re-align the part of her hair. “Daddy is sooo excited, too.”
“Really?” She says, shoots her eyes up to meet your in the mirror. 
You smile at her smile, at the crooked baby teeth and apple cheeks. “Oh, yeah.” You tell her, nod, reach for the curl cream. “The only thing he loves more than dancing is you.”
“You think?” She says, the th- sound horribly enunciated, dull and lispy and adorable. 
“I know.”
– –
Daniel’s in your bedroom, receiving updates from you, in your daughter’s room, via text. She’s wearing purple. You told him three outfit changes ago. Blue. I think we’ve settled on blue. She had not, in fact, settled on the blue dress. Yellow. Yellow, for sure. You finally said, after she looked into the mirror and said she looked like her favorite princess. 
You couldn't’ remember if he had a yellow tie–he has to, you think, you hope, because he is dead-set on matching her and there’s no way you’re going to make her pick a different outfit, no way your sanity can last another trip through her closet. 
She asks if you can put makeup on her, and you can’t imagine Daniel’s reaction to that–his little girl in makeup. You put the tiniest amound of blush on, a dollop of sparkly lipgloss, and run a dry spooly brush through her eyebrows and eyelashes. “Fabuolous!” She declares, spinning around in her dress and her dress-up disney-princess heels. 
She’s waiting on the couch, patiently playing with the tule on the skirt of her dress, picking at the sequins and the sparkles. She’s taken one of your purses hostage, a tiny white baguette bag slung over her shoulder. She put your lipgloss in it–just in case, Mom, she told you. Your lipgloss, and an old phone, sceen cracked and practically unusable, one she uses when her imagination is feeling extravagant. 
Daniel walks through the door with a bouquet of yellow and white flowers in his hand, and two plasti boxes–a white corsage and a matching boutonniere. You pin it on him, and he double wraps the elastic band of the corsage around her wrist so it doesn’t fall off, tells her she looks so lovely, beautiful like always. 
You take a million pictures of them on the front porch before they go, so many they’re both begging to go. We can’t be late, Mom, your daughter told you, huffed and crossed her arms. “Yeah, Mom.” Daniel teases, “We can’t be late.”
“Okay, okay.” You say, snap a couple more pictures, kiss them both goodbye. You watch on from the porch, hand over your heart, smile on your face while he helps her into the car like it’s a chariot, a horse-drawn carriage for a queen.
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stolenslumber · 9 months
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devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes (pjs)
Jay needs someone to pretend to be his girlfriend, and you’re just the person for the job— seriously, you’re almost a professional at this point, regularly charming the families of your idiot twin’s friends who need your help getting their parents off their back. Of course, leave it up to Jay to blur the lines of your fake relationship so smoothly that you catch real feelings; falling in love has never been this easy.
PAIRING: park jongseong x female reader GENRE: acquaintances to partners in crime to fake dating to lovers i guess? lol, college au, vaguely greek life au, vaguely rich kid au, fluff fluff fluff, jake is the mc’s twin bc i thought it would be funny WARNINGS: swearing, kissing and suggestive content/sexual themes WORD COUNT: 14.4k A/N: ik the ages don't line up here shhhh just ignore that okay
NOW AVAILABLE: hang your head low in the glow (companion fic/follow-up)
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“WHY DO YOU LOOK SO NICE?” 
“Why do you sound so surprised?” You scoff, tossing the apple you were just about to eat at Jake’s head. Annoyingly, he catches it in mid-air, then makes a show out of polishing it with his shirt and taking a big bite out of it. “Hey, I was going to eat that, asshole.”
“Shouldn’t have thrown it at me, then.” 
You roll your eyes at your twin, then go to retrieve another apple from the fruit bowl. It’s surprisingly well-stocked, given that you’re in a frat’s kitchen. Honestly, it’s surprising that there even is a fruit bowl in a frat’s kitchen, but the president of this frat runs a tight ship.
Said president appears in the doorway just then, snatching the apple from your hands as well as the one from Jake’s hands. “Guys, seriously, you have to wash these before you eat them.”
You and Jake both whine simultaneously. “Chan!” 
“I already took a bite out of that, bro,” Jake complains.
“I’m starving; please have mercy,” you beg.
Chan whips his head around from where he’d begun washing the apples in the sink to fuss at you. “What? Why haven’t you eaten yet? It’s almost 9pm!”
“Which reminds me— why do you look so nice?” Jake repeats.
“I had a thing with Mark,” you sigh. 
“You can just say you were pretending to be his girlfriend; we all know what you mean,” Jake snorts.
“I had a thing with Mark,” you repeat, resisting the urge to throw another apple at Jake’s head. “It was at this ballroom downtown, and of course he had nothing to wear, so I had to take him shopping first, which made us late, and then his parents wouldn’t stop talking my ear off about how I need to convince him to give up the music major, so I couldn’t touch any of the food there. Not even the foie gras torchon,” you recall mournfully. “We just got back, like, five minutes ago.”
Chan hums sympathetically— he knows how much you love foie gras torchon. “You can probably ask for an endless supply in return for your appearance at today’s thing,” he suggests, only half-joking. It absolutely sounds like the kind of thing Mark Lee would agree to, what with his ridiculously large inheritance and hapless generosity (last month, Mark lost thousands of dollars in some animal shelter-related pyramid scheme, marketed to him by none other than Lee Haechan).
You wave a hand dismissively. “Nah, I’m keeping Mark’s favor for something else.”
Jake raises an eyebrow. “What else?”
“Whatever it turns out I need in the future, dumbass. What’s it to you, anyways?” 
“Just wanna make sure the poor guy doesn’t end up trapped in your snares forever, little sis. Yo, can I have that apple back?” Jake turns to Chan with characteristic puppy eyes.
“You’re only older than me by eight minutes,” you grumble, the age-old retort slipping out of you before you can help it.
“No, Jaeyun, you cannot. And don’t talk to your sister like that— oh my god, why do I sound like Taeyong,” Chan mutters, thinking about his predecessor frat-president-slash-mother-hen. 
“Jeez, government name and everything.” Jake holds his hands up, relinquishing his claim to the apple.
“In fact, your sister gets to have both of these apples, after I clean and cut them up, because she is a saint for continuing to save our asses from our parents like this,” Chan lectures, unceremoniously carving out the chunk of the apple with Jake’s bite marks and tossing it into the trash bin.
“Real ones get it!” You reach out and high-five Chan. 
“That is so unfair, c’mon, man!” Jake splutters. “She gets just as much out of these fake relationships— seriously, didn’t you drive her around everywhere for, like, a month after she went to that wedding with you?”
Both you and Chan shudder at the memory. “Ugh, my worst cousin and the worst guy he was ever with. They’re still married, by the way.” Chan shakes his head. “God knows why.”
“Love conquers all…?” Jake offers.
“What the hell are you talking about love for,” a new voice grumbles. Park Jongseong strolls in through the doorway, hands full with plastic bags promising wonderful things based on how your stomach reacts to the smell.
“Oh, hell yeah, chicken!” Jake cheers. “Took you long enough, bro.”
“Traffic was hell; something about a ball downtown, and— oh. Hey.” Jay stops abruptly at the sight of you, now munching on the apple slices Chan hands you, one by one.
You wave vaguely in his direction, too busy eating to respond. Jay is one of your brother’s friends who you don’t know that well, since you’ve never pretended to be his girlfriend. It’s strange that you two don’t know each other better, actually— as the social chairs of your sorority and his fraternity, respectively, you would usually have a lot to work on together. But this year has been particularly busy for you, what with your senior thesis and your various things with Jake’s frat brothers, and you had delegated most of your social chair responsibilities to your co-chair, Yunjin, who was far better suited to the social part of the job, anyways. You suspected Jay had done the same thing, since the two of you only ever texted to confirm budgets for any joint events.
“You need to have more than one-and-three-quarters of an apple for dinner,” Chan scolds you, parental instincts back in full force.
You shrug, about to turn around and rifle through the cabinets to see if you can find some peanut butter to add to your apple slices when a takeout container appears in front of you. Tired and still starving, you react rather slowly, your eyes tracing up the hand on the container to the veins of an arm belonging to none other than Jay.
“You look hungry,” is all he says, before popping the container open for you and rearranging the rest of the plastic bags on the counter. “Jake, tell the others to come down for food.”
The others means that soon, there will be an influx of hungry frat brothers in the kitchen, and you have no desire to be anywhere near that, so you mumble a quick thank you to Jay, plop the rest of the apple slices into the takeout container (against Chan’s complaints about the contamination), and move to leave the kitchen, eager to be on your way to your sorority house.
The last thing you overhear before you leave is Jay asking, “Why did your sister look so nice?”, and Jake and Chan responding in unison, “She had a thing.”
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A few days later, when they’re doing work in the library, Jay asks Jake, “So how long have Mark and your sister been seeing each other?”
Jake’s pencil jerks across his graph paper, a jagged line appearing on the page at the same time that he swears. “Dude, what the fuck?”
“Dude, what the fuck,” Jay echoes flatly. “Didn’t you say she had a thing with Mark?”
Jake blinks. “Well, sure, in the same way that she’s had a thing with Chan, and Yeonjun, and Vernon, and all the others.”
Jay gapes at him. “Your sister dated all of them? And all the others?”
“What, no, she didn’t date them, she fake-dated them! Just a couple of times, mainly showing up to things with their families so their parents would leave them alone about finding a partner and all that. You know how the parents are.” Jake gestures vaguely, referring to the oddities of the world of wealth they were born into. 
Jay nods slowly, understanding dawning upon him. Does he know how the parents are? Oh, does he ever. He has always had a good relationship with his own, but they had been more pushy on the whole love thing as of late, with the not-at-all subtle questions his mother asks about any special someones in his life and the unfunny jokes his dad cracks about how he’s still spry enough to help raise grandchildren. Especially unfunny, given the health scare his dad had given them all in the last year.
Jake’s voice brings him out of his veering-towards-morbid thoughts. “But seriously, bro, how is this news to you? My sister’s been doing this… Cinderella-genie thing for two years now.” 
Jay’s eyebrows furrow. “Cinderella-genie thing?”
“Yeah, I mean, she transforms our frat brothers into respectable young men with a respectable relationship, but only for three occasions, and she gets the same number of favors back.” Jake wrinkles his nose. “It sounds weird when I say it like that, and don’t get me wrong, I love to give her shit for it, but it’s all above-board stuff. Sunghoon bought her bubble tea for like, three months. Oh, and no one’s allowed to catch feelings, so everything ends clean and neat.”
“She fake-dated Sunghoon?”
At the mention of his name, Sunghoon pops one side of his headphones off. “What’s up?”
“You fake-dated Jake’s sister!?”
Sunghoon shushes him before responding. “Yeah, don’t you remember? It was a couple of months ago.”
Jay’s ears flush, both at how loud he had unconsciously gotten, and at the reminder that he really has been out of it for a while now. It’s not like he’s been living under a rock, but he has definitely been spending a lot more time with his parents and away from his friends ever since his dad’s health scare.
“She was great, though,” Sunghoon continues. “My mom still thinks I made the biggest mistake of my life ‘letting her go.’ But she’s also been leaving me alone about ‘finding love’ because she thinks I’m heartbroken, so yeah, Jake’s sister works wonders.”
Jake smirks. “Sim genes, man. Elite stuff.” 
Sunghoon scoffs. “You wish. Didn’t I hear your mom yelling at you on the phone the other day for not having settled down yet?”
“Ugh, don’t remind me. Does she not realize what decade this is, I mean, we’re still in college—”
Jay interrupts what looks to be the beginning of a long rant from Jake, cutting him off with, “So where can I sign up?”
Jake stares blankly at him. “Sign up for what?” 
“The Cinderella-genie thing.”
Sunghoon scrunches his face awkwardly. “Uh, she kind of has a waitlist, buddy.”
Jay waits for him to laugh and say he’s just kidding, but he doesn’t. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, she doesn’t do the fake-dating thing for multiple people at the same time, and she’s pretty busy with all her shit, so I’m not sure how long of a queue you have ahead of you…”
“Okay, but Jake could get me ahead, right? Cut the line, or something? C’mon dude, I’m your best friend.” Jay is suddenly desperate, remembering the conversation he’d had with his mom on the phone last night, where she had dreamily recalled meeting his dad in college and delicately reminded Jay that he could have a plus-one to the Parks’ upcoming 50th wedding anniversary celebration.
Jake eyes his friend warily. “I dunno, she really doesn’t like stuff like that. Unfair advantages, I mean.”
“My parents aren’t getting any younger, Jake, and you know, with my dad last year and everything…” Jay does his best approximation of batting his eyelashes at Jake. 
“Are you guilt-tripping me?”
“A little?” Jay’s smile turns a little maniacal. “For real, my parents have their 50th wedding anniversary coming up, and it would be the perfect event to bring her to so I can reassure them that things are going well in my love life.”
“Are things going anywhere in your love life?” Sunghoon’s tone is skeptical, and reasonably so. 
Jay has been distant lately because of his family, but even before that, he had always been known as somewhat aloof and unattainable. Devastatingly handsome, yes, with killer grades and fierce ambition, and a business empire to inherit to boot, but he is also his parents’ one and only miracle child, born after years of trying and almost giving up. Jay’s parents are older than all of his friends’ parents, and their family business has always been that— a family business. Jay has two years after graduation to learn the ropes in the business, and then he’ll be due for an MBA, and then a return to helm the business, but this timeline has recently felt more urgent than ever with his parents’ flagging health. They would never say it, but he knows the only reason they haven’t retired yet is because they don’t want to hand over control of the business to anyone but him. Jay has worked his ass off in college, trying to get there as fast as he can, as well as he can. But his parents also want him to enjoy college and find true love, and while he’s been doing pretty well with the former, the latter has been on the backburner for, well, forever. Who has time for true love, in between classes, fraternity duties, the various shenanigans his friends get up to, internships, networking, TA-ing, volunteering, being on the executive board of two clubs, and eating, sleeping, dreaming, and thinking?
So. No. Things are not going anywhere in his love life, and he confirms just as much to Sunghoon with a grunt, to which Sunghoon wheezes out his amusement.
Jake eyes Jay with pity, now. “Alright, that guilt trip was successful, but more so because you just admitted to being bitchless for so long. I’ll put in a good word to my sister for you.”
Jay perks up instantly. There is light and beauty in this world after all! “Awesome, thank you bro, you won’t regret this, I promise!”
“I wasn’t planning on it, but those are famous last words, Park.” Jake raises an eyebrow at him. “Are you sure you can handle my sister?”
“Why not? She seems… nice.” Jay is slightly evasive in his answer, and truthfully, it’s because he isn’t really sure what you’re like. All your interactions to date have been cordial, almost business-like, and you and Jake are fraternal twins, so it’s not even like he’s really familiar with what you look like. He is, however, sure that you look beautiful in a ballgown, even if he only saw you in one in his frat’s kitchen.
Jake chortles outright. “No, my sister is not nice. Yeah, I’m definitely going to convince her to help you, just because I think it’ll be hysterical watching her turn you inside out. Good luck, my brother in Christ, because you’ll need it!”
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you: hey jake told me abt ur predicament
jay: … good morning, how are you? i’m pretty good myself
you: ???
jay: just being polite. and it’s not a predicament i’m just… interested in your services
you: good for you? anyways i’m super busy right now and don’t really have time to be taking on anything else so i’m just letting you know that i can’t help you out. good luck though
jay: how about coffee?
you: what?
jay: do you want coffee?
you: like right now?
jay: yeah i’m on your porch
You almost throw your phone to the other side of the room. True, Jay’s fraternity house is across the street from your sorority house, but it still feels absurd to think that he’s right there, less than twenty feet below your room. Is he stalking you?
Accordingly, that’s the first thing you ask him when you throw the door open to him. “Are you stalking me?”
He scoffs. “As if. I asked Jake to ask Yunjin for your location.” 
“That’s not not stalking.”
Jay shrugs, though he has the decency to look a little embarrassed as he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Whatever. I just walked across the street; that’s all. So, coffee?”
You stare at him for a few moments, weighing your options. Truthfully, you were about to leave to get coffee before your first class, anyways, but you’re not sure how long you want to entertain Jay. You decide to split the difference. “I’m on my way to Nat’s, so you can tag along. But I’m just grabbing a coffee to go, and then I have class.”
“Okay, let’s go.” 
“Gimme a second; I’ll grab my stuff.” For some reason, your heart is beating a little faster than usual when you reach your room. You’d like to blame it on the stairs you just climbed, but something about Jay coming to find you at your front door feels old-fashioned and sweet, though your rational mind reminds you that he literally just walked a couple hundred feet. He even said so, himself.
But when you come back down to see him leaning against the doorway with his hands still in his pockets, looking out into the street, you suddenly remember that Jay is, like, really good-looking. Despite yourself, you find yourself admiring the cut of his jaw and how nice his hair is styled. It’s not like you don’t know plenty of attractive guys— hell, the guys you usually fake-date are all objectively hot. It’s just inconvenient that you now recall how Jay has always seemed to be the most mature out of Jake’s friends, even from what little you know of him. Unhelpfully, your brain also conjures up the image of him sliding a takeout container to you last week, and the way your eyes had lingered on the veins of his arm.
God. It’s been too long since you’ve gotten laid.
Jay’s voice breaks you out of your bizarre trance. “Ready, Cinderella?”
“Excuse me?”
“Jake told me about your whole Cinderella-genie thing. It would be weird to call you ‘genie’, so…” Jay trails off, scratching the back of his head and looking actually embarrassed now. 
You can’t help but laugh. “Right, because Cinderella is totally less weird. Alright, big guy, let’s go.”
The walk to Nat’s, your favorite local coffee shop, takes about 15 minutes— 10, if you’re walking fast, which you usually are. Jay’s legs are uselessly long, but he seems determined to walk as slowly as possible, while also staying silent the whole time. Finally, you reach the end of your patience and step out right in front of him, intending to ask him what the hell he’s doing. Unfortunately, you find that you misjudged the distance, and he almost collides right into you.
“Whoa,” he mutters, reaching out to grab your arms to steady the both of you. 
“Sorry,” you huff, embarrassed at yourself. A lot of that going around today. “I just… what’s your deal? I already told you I can’t help you, and then you show up at my door and ask me to get coffee, but you don’t say a single word. What do you want from me?”
Instead of answering your question, he asks, “Why do you do it?” 
“Do what?”
“The Cinderella-genie thing.”
You roll your eyes. “Jake has got to stop calling it that. It’s a long story, honestly.” Sighing, you reach into your backpack to pull out your planner. “Alright, we’re already past the amount of time I scheduled to get my coffee and get ahead on some readings before class, so I guess we can sit down inside.”
Jay raises an eyebrow. “You have time for me now? Also, that’s the most insane planner I’ve ever seen.”
You gesture around you. You had stopped Jay almost at the door of Nat’s, and you’re clogging up the sidewalk. “We should at least get out of the way of these people. And yeah, I’m sure it is.” You are a live-and-die-by-your-planner kind of person. Everything is in there— social events, studying time, your various things with Jay’s frat brothers, even things like eating and showering and sleeping. It seems psychotic, sure, but you’re a busy person, and there’s no way you’d be able to handle everything without the strict schedule you set for yourself.
When you walk up to the counter inside Nat’s, your favorite barista— a cute high school kid named Riki— is manning the register. You smile warmly at him. “Hey, Riki. The usual, please.”
You expect Riki to tease you about your usual, which contains an admittedly concerning amount of caffeine, but instead he calls out, “Jay! What’s up, my man!”
From behind you, Jay reaches out and fist-bumps Riki. “Hey, long time no see, buddy. How’s history going?”
Riki groans theatrically. “Horribly, ever since you stopped tutoring me.”
Jay frowns. “Wait, really? What are you having trouble with? I know I’m kind of swamped right now but we can always find some time and—”
Riki bursts out laughing. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Jeez, you should’ve seen your face. Relax, I got a 94 on my last paper!”
“Oh, very funny, you menace!” Jay punches Riki’s shoulder, but his expression eases up. You wonder at the fondness that twinkles in his eyes. 
Riki laughs some more, then he turns to you. “Noona, one cup of liquid death coming up! Hyung, what about you?”
“London fog, please. And seriously, text me if you’re having trouble, okay?”
Riki waves the both of you off, telling you that he’ll bring your drinks over to you. 
You make a beeline for your favorite spot, right by the large window that overlooks the sidewalk. Jay surprises you for the umpteenth time that morning by easily striding ahead and pulling your chair out for you, then coughing and turning red when you give him a weird look.
“Sorry, I, uh, yeah. Instinct,” he explains, which is really no explanation at all. 
“Are you courting me or something?” You try to keep your tone light and joking, but confusion inevitably slips in. Nothing Jay has done today has made sense. 
He seems to have regained his composure when he sits down, because he hits you with, “I guess you could say that. It’s just something I think I’d do for my girlfriend.”
You stare at him blankly. “Thanks for telling me…?”
“I mean, if you’re going to fake-date me, you can probably expect me to do stuff like that, right?”
You groan. “I’m not going to fake-date you, Jay, how many times do I have to say it? I—”
“— don’t have time, I know. But what if I could make it worth your while?”
“Jay, you know I’m Jake’s sister, right? We have money. Besides, I’m helping Mark right now, and I don’t do this for multiple people at the same time.”
“Oh yeah, Jake told me about that rule. What if I could take care of that for you?”
You raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“I’ll help Mark find a real girlfriend, and then you can help me, instead.”
“If it were that easy, don’t you think Mark would have done it himself?” 
Jay waves his hand dismissively. “Oh, please, Mark’s been crushing on the girl in his music class for ages. He gets too into his head about asking her out, so he chickens out every time. They’re partners on a project right now, though, so I’ll just give him a push in the right direction.”
You have to admit that you’re intrigued by his proposition. Everything Jay just said lines up with what you know about Mark, especially the chickening out part. You’d like to see Jay try, and you figure it can’t hurt either way, so you nod. “Okay, fine. If you can help Mark, I’ll help you. But seriously, what’s your deal? Why do you want my help so badly?”
Jay blinks, then he leans back into his chair. “Oh. Honestly, I haven’t 100% decided that I do, yet.”
“But you’re willing to agree to help Mark Lee with a girl in order to secure my help?” You shake your head. “You’re really strange, Park.”
“I get overly invested in challenges really easily,” Jay confesses, showing you an unexpectedly bashful smile. “So I got a little caught up just now in the idea that I could change your mind about helping me. But now that you’ve brought it up, I’ll still help Mark, no matter what. I’m sick of him writing lovesick songs about that girl, anyways.”
“Large iced Americano, no water, four shots of espresso. And a London Fog,” Riki announces. He sets the drinks down on your table right as the bell above the shop’s door chimes and lets in the pre-9am work crowd. He groans and bids you both a hasty goodbye.
Jay eyes your coffee with disgust. “Liquid death, huh? That’s disturbing.”
“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it.” You tilt the cup in his direction, laughing when he shudders. 
“Absolutely not. I can’t believe you order that enough that Riki knows it’s your usual.”
“I usually see him in the afternoons when I order this, actually, so I’m sure he’s going to give me an earful about getting one in the mornings, too. Speaking of— doesn’t he have school?” You whip around in your seat to stare at Riki. 
“He has two free periods on Mondays this year, so I guess he picked up an extra shift. He’s a hard working kid,” Jay says. 
You turn back around to see him with that same fondness in his eyes. “How do you know him, by the way?”
“Ah, he’s my little’s friend from high school. My little is Jungwon— cat-looking dude?”
You let out a squeal. “Oh my gosh, he’s the cutest!” 
Jay crosses his arms and grins, looking amused. “Yeah, he is pretty cute. Anyways, Jungwon mentioned his friend was having trouble with his history class last year, so I started tutoring him a bit, just casually, since I’m studying history.”
“Not economics?” You’ve heard about Jay’s family’s notoriously tightly-controlled company. Everything is within the family, so you’re surprised that he isn’t getting ready to take over. 
“Both. I can have two majors, you know. What’s yours?”
“Linguistic anthropology. And studio art. I can have two majors, you know.” 
Jay rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay, I know that was pretentious. What’s linguistic anthropology?”
You clear your throat, not expecting to talk about your hopes and dreams so early in the morning, and with someone who’s only a few steps away from being a stranger. “Languages, and the social and cultural foundations of them. Basically. I want to do linguistic archaeology in grad school, and this is the closest thing you can get in undergrad.”
Jay leans forward and nods enthusiastically. “That sounds really cool. What kind of art are you doing?”
“Oil paints, mostly, and some charcoal drawing…”
Like that, an hour flies by. You don’t even notice the blocks in your calendar getting overwritten by what is essentially a coffee date with Jay until you get the reminder that you have class in thirty minutes. 
“Shit, I gotta go soon.” You say it with some regret; surprisingly, you’re really enjoying yourself with Jay. He’s smart, and funny, and a little awkward in a way that makes you think he’s the most sincere person you’ve ever met. And he has interesting thoughts and opinions on history, some of which you even make a mental note to follow up on later for your thesis. 
“Before you go, will you tell me why you do the fake-dating thing?” Jay puts his head in both his hands and smiles at you, and…
“Are you batting your eyelashes at me?”
Jay squints at you. “Maybe. Is it working?”
“Not really,” you lie, like a liar. 
“Didn’t work on Jake, either. Man, I gotta work on it.” Jay gives up the act and relaxes back into his chair. “Will you tell me, though?”
“Sure, it’s not like it’s a big secret or anything. It’s not even that long of a story, now that I think about it. Not something worth trying to seduce me over, but I like your hustle,” you joke. 
“So it was working!”
“I wouldn’t go that far. Okay, so it started with Chan. He just didn’t want to go to his horrible cousin’s horrible wedding, but his sister had been arguing with the cousin about Chan and was, like, defending his honor or something? And one thing spiraled into another and all of a sudden Chan needed to show up to the wedding with an impressive partner to prove to his cousin that he could pull.” You make a face. “Boys. I’d actually met this particular cousin before, through some convoluted situation at one of those holiday parties that our families throw, and I knew he was insufferable, so I was willing to help out. Other guys in the frat heard about it, and you know, it’s surprising but not shocking that your frat has a lot of guys with some sort of weird baggage that prevents them from actually seriously dating someone. It’s weirder that a significant number of them also find themselves in situations where they need to pretend to have a girlfriend, but as it turns out, I’m really good at it— being a fake girlfriend, I guess. I haven’t had much time to date myself, so it’s kind of nice hearing how much everyone’s families liked me as their potential daughter-in-law. Plus, I always get favors in return, so it’s not the worst thing in the world. It’s like the fun part of dating, without the actual time commitment.”
Jay looks skeptical. “Going to family events and schmoozing with distant relatives is the fun part of dating?”
You scoff. “Whatever. You’re the one who asked why I did it, and I told you. It doesn’t have to make sense to you.”
“Sorry, sorry. I’m not judging, I swear. I just think that there’s probably better parts to dating, but who am I to talk,” he mutters.
“Ah, yes, Jake mentioned that, too. Bitchless all these years?”
Jay deadpans at you. “I know you aren’t making fun of me for that when you basically just told me that you fake-dated all these guys because you have a raging praise kink specifically for people’s families.”
“Oh, fuck off.” But you’re laughing, almost— giggling? Ugh. Maybe you do need to back off on the caffeine. “Alright, I have to go now, for real. Text me when Mark is good, and then we can talk about our two fake dates.”
“Isn’t three the max?”
“I was serious about not having time, Jay. I have a thesis for linguistics, and a portfolio to put together for art. Mark was going to be my last… thing this year. I went to one event with him, so if you can get things squared away with him, you can have his other two.”
“Okay, fine. Pleasure doing business with you.” Jay salutes you with two fingers.
“You haven’t even succeeded with Mark yet, and you haven’t heard what favors I want in return, either. Don’t get ahead of yourself, hotshot.” 
And then you’re gone, leaving Jay to ruminate on the last hour and a half you spent together.
Jake’s right— you’re not nice, not in the traditional sense of the word. You’re kind of prickly, and you seem to run your life like a drill sergeant, but Jay thinks you must be really kind. Aside from Chan, the others you’ve helped (Mark, Yeonjun, Vernon, Sunghoon, good lord) are all variants of pretty boys who can’t talk to women to save their lives but live and die by the words of their parents, who all hope to see them get married sooner rather than later (Jay elects to ignore how he fits into that mold pretty well, too). No wonder you felt bad for them in their plights and wanted to help them; and Jay really believes that you did it to help them, not because of whatever favors you got in return. Like you said, you have money, so it’s not like you couldn’t buy your own bubble tea or pay for a driver. No, he’s seen your calendar, and it’s crammed with volunteering events in between everything else, and he’s seen the way you fuss over Riki, someone you only see a couple times a week while ordering a coffee. He’s pretty sure you’re just a classic do-gooder, and he doesn’t even need your help that badly, but he does love a challenge. Get Mark Lee together with the girl of his dreams is the first one. The second one is to figure out why he cares about proving himself to you so much— it’s not like he’s swimming in free time either, but somehow you’ve gotten under his skin, and he wants to see where this goes.
(Plus, he thinks you’re really pretty.)
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When you enter your studio art workshop class, you find Yunjin immediately and pout at her. “Thanks for revealing my location to Jay, traitor,” you whine.
Yunjin grins. “It’s not like the sorority house is a state secret, babe. And I have zero regrets— he’s hot!”
“So?”
“So, I’m sick of you fake-dating these guys because you love to be the most helpful person in the room, and I want to see you actually date someone!”
You snort. “Joke’s on you, then, because he also wants to fake-date me.”
“Eugh, really? What the hell, I thought he was a good one,” Yunjin groans.
“He is a good one,” you respond instantly. You’re not sure why you’re so defensive about him, but from everything you’ve witnessed today, you know that Park Jongseong is the definition of a good guy.
“Well, maybe this will finally be the one that goes from fake-dating to real dating!” Yunjing wiggles her eyebrows at you. “You already think he’s nice, and you didn’t say he isn’t hot, either.”
“I have a pulse, Yunjin, I can tell that he’s hot.”
Yunjin whistles between her teeth. “Wait ‘til I tell Jake to tell Jay that.”
“Do not— and since when are you and my brother so close, anyways?”
She flashes you a conspiratorial wink. “New boytoy.”
“Ew, seriously? Jake?”
“Hey, it’s not that deep. He gets around, too, doesn’t he? Friends with benefits, no strings attached, etcetera.”
“Famous last words, honey.” You start pulling out your art supplies, chewing on your lip as you consider whether to ask her what you’re dying to know. “... So, what do you know about Jay? And do not tell Jake about any of this, Yunjin, I swear.”
“We’re really not close like that, babe, and I’d never betray your trust for dick.” Yunjin puts her hand over her heart solemnly.
“I want you to know that I’m throwing up in my mouth.”
“Noted.” Yunjin sticks the pencil she was using in her hair, then leans back and hums thoughtfully. “Now, Jay… I know what everyone knows about him, I guess. Good guy, nice family, kind of detached, if I had to say so? Not in a bad way, though. I just mean that he seems to hang out with his friends and that’s pretty much it. He’s involved in a bunch of stuff on campus like you are, but I know he had to pull back recently because one of his parents had a health thing— oh no, I can tell you’re already Cinderella-ing.”
You huff. “Jake is so annoying for that. What do you mean, Cinderella-ing?”
“You feel bad for him and now you want to help him!”
“I already agreed to help him, if he helps Mark Lee get a girlfriend, first.”
“Wow, he must really need your help if he’s willing to do that.”
“Funny, he said he isn’t sure if he needs my help, yet.” You shrug. “He’s confusing.”
“Oooh, but you’re interested, aren’t you?” Yunjin peers closer at you. “Oh my god, you whore! You want him!” 
“Yunjin!” You shush her, cognizant of the other students around you. “I’m just curious, okay? I wanna know what I’m getting myself into.”
“Sure, sure. I believe you!” Yunjin insists, looking entirely unbelievable. “That’s not surprising about Jay, though. His family is, like, super family-oriented. Introducing them to a fake girlfriend seems like it wouldn’t go well, so it makes sense that he’s hesitant about it. You should ask him for more details when you guys fuck—”
You cut her off with a hand slapped over her mouth. “I’m going to murder you in your sleep.”
Yunjin laughs underneath your hand and flicks you off. “But seriously, the rumor is that he’s never dated anyone in college because his parents had the perfect college romance and want the same thing for him, and he’s always been too busy being the prodigal son and heir apparent for true love to just, like, fall into his lap. Despite the valiant efforts of many girls on campus,” she finishes dryly.
“That’s… a really detailed rumor.”
“Chaewon’s little is obsessed with him, so I’ve heard it a million times.” 
You both cringe. Chaewon is far too nice to say it, but her little is stuck in a phase of boy mania so all-consuming it borders on clinical.
“Enough about boys; how’s it going with the portfolio?” Yunjin nudges her chin towards your empty canvas.
You sigh. “Pretty good, except for the human portrait part. It’s really not my thing, but Professor Song was so adamant that I try to include at least two of them by the end of the year. I did one of Jake already, but he doesn’t know, so it’ll be hilarious to see him cry at the senior showcase.”
“Oh, he’s totally going to lose it,” Yunjin agrees. You stay silent on the curious display of knowledge she just exhibited on your brother’s behalf. “Who are you thinking for the other one?”
“Beats me. I’d use my parents, but that feels a little bit too on the nose, especially after the one of Jake. It’d be weird to ask our friends, right?”
“Not really, but your portfolio theme is family, isn’t it? Very sweet of you to think of us as family, but then you’re talking about an entire group of people.”
Instantly, you shudder. “That’s way more than two humans. Love you guys, but no thanks. I’ll figure something else out.”
Yujin smirks at you. “If you and Jay date and fall in love and get married, you’ll be family, and then you could do one of him.”
“That is so not the solution!”
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You don’t hear from Jay until a week later, at which point you figure he has given up, so you’re shocked to find him at your door again. 
“Morning, Cinderella,” is all he says to you before handing you a cup.
“Good morning,” you return, too dumbfounded to say anything else. “What’s this?”
“Coffee. Large iced Americano, no water, four shots of espresso,” he recites. “I got Riki to text it to me,” he admits quickly.
“I appreciate it, but what’s this for?” You narrow your eyes at him. “You can’t possibly think that one of the favors I’ll ask from you is coffee, right? I’m not that easy, Park.”
Jay looks offended. “Hey, you let Sunghoon buy you bubble tea!”
“Yeah, but he was really pathetic about the whole fake-dating thing.”
“... Fine, I’ll give that to you. That does sound like him. But no, this is because I wanted to ask you something, and I figured I’d take up the time that you usually schedule for getting your coffee.”
“Ooookay. So, what’s up?” You start on the walk to the library, and he’s quick to fall into step beside you.
“I’ve been thinking about how to help Mark with his crush, and I have the perfect idea, but I need your help.”
“You need my help to help Mark so that you can get my help for yourself?” It sounds absurd coming out of your month, and before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, “Wow, try saying that ten times fast.”
A surprised laugh erupts from Jay’s chest. “That was corny as hell,” he says, but he’s still laughing, high pitched and delighted. Laughter transforms his whole face, his eyes slipping into crescents and his nose scrunching with the force of his happiness, and you’re left dazed looking at him like that.
“Don’t tell anyone you witnessed that. I know where you live,” you threaten him half-heartedly. It really doesn’t carry much weight when you’re beaming in response to the mirth in his expression.
He stops laughing to grin at you, still bright and lovely. “Yeah, right. Who’s been coming to whose front door?”
“You don’t think I could walk across the street? I’m there all the time, Jay. So many people in that house owe me; it’d be a piece of cake to get your room number.” You say this with a stupid smile still on your face.
“Right, consider me properly frightened.” The wattage of his grin finally turns down a couple of notches, giving you room to breathe properly. “So, about Mark,” he starts.
“Yeah, this just sounds like more work for me,” you respond skeptically.
“Hear me out, okay? Mark has all these love songs written about this girl, and I found out that she always eats lunch at the same table at the same time in the dining hall on Tuesdays, so I figured he could play one of his songs over the dining hall speakers and then confess to her.” Jay makes little jazz hands at the end of his sentence, and it prompts a giggle out of you.
You have to fight your smile down when you speak. “A couple of things. One: that is so incredibly over the top for a confession, but sure, I like your spirit. Two: there’s no way Mark is slick enough to pull this off. Which leads me to three: what do you need from me?”
Jay nods. “Exactly, Mark could never do this on his own, which is why I’ve enlisted a bunch of guys from the frat, and you, of course.”
“Me, of course?”
“Sunoo and Jake are going to sweet-talk the lady at the dining hall who has the keys to the staff office with the dining hall audio hookup and microphone— she loves Sunoo, and Jake will flash her the ol’ puppy dog eyes to keep her sufficiently distracted. Heeseung will walk past and swipe her keys, and Jungwon is going to make sure that Mark’s crush is actually in the dining hall at the right time. Chan is going to apologize on everyone’s behalf if this goes wrong.”
You tut. “Poor Chan.”
“It’s his presidential duty, god bless.”
“And where do I fit into this?”
“You and I need to hold Mark’s hand, figuratively, and keep him hyped up enough to actually go through with it. He agreed to the plan, but I can totally see him chickening out again, which is why Sunghoon and Yeonjun are also going to stand guard outside the staff office so he can’t escape.”
“I feel like you could hold Mark’s hand on your own,” you argue, but you don’t really mean it. This sounds so chaotic and harebrained that you would normally want to stay a mile away from it, but Jay’s enthusiasm and seriousness about it is rubbing off on you. Plus, it would be nice to see one of your fake boyfriends actually succeed in their love life.
“He has two hands, and I can’t hold them all by myself because I have to operate the audio hookup,” Jay proclaims solemnly. “And I said figuratively! He trusts you, clearly, or at least he trusted you enough to be his fake girlfriend.”
“I come highly recommended,” you intone dryly. 
“And he trusts me enough to go along with the plan, so I think we’re the best suited to be his moral support,” Jay continues, ignoring your smartass comment. 
“This is a ridiculous plan, Jay.”
“So you’re in? Oh, wait. Are you free at 12:30 today?”
You stop to check your planner and confirm that you are. “What would you have done if I wasn’t?”
“Reconfigure the time-space continuum so you could be in two places at once. Mark’s future happiness depends on this,” Jay insists.
"I see what you mean about getting overly invested in challenges really easily… Alright, text me where I should meet you later, then?”
“You got it. Have a good day, Cinderella!” He yells this part as he jogs away from you. 
“Stop calling me that!” But you can’t remember the last time you smiled this much this early in the morning.
Hours later, you smile instinctively upon seeing Jay’s name pop up in your notifications.
jay: coast is clear. meet me outside the dining hall staff office in 5 minutes. operation is a go
you: omw, 007
jay: stop ur making me blush
you: fr?
jay: no this is just banter
you: omfg mark just texted me to say that ur actually blushing
jay: im going to end him. after he gets a gf, ofc
“Hey,” you whisper in Jay’s ear, making him jump. 
“Holy shit, how’d you get here so fast?”
You shrug, jostling his shoulder as you’re pressed up against him in the tiny recessed alcove across from the staff office. “I’m a fast walker. Places to be, people to see, you know? Speaking of…” You motion to the open office door. “Should we go inside?”
Jay clears his throat. Up this close, he can count the eyelashes that flutter against your skin. “Yeah, Mark’s already there. I’m surprised he found the composure to pop his head out and see me, or text you, honestly. He’s been a nervous wreck since this morning. Oh, finally, way to be on time, losers!” Jay beckons Sunghoon and Yeonjun closer from down the hall.
“We’re fine; Jungwon says Mark’s crush hasn’t even sat down at her table, yet. Hey, how are you? Long time no see.” Yeonjun flashes you a smile.
“Committing questionable acts in the name of love, you know, just living the dream,” you joke. “How’s your mom?”
“Great! She still asks about you. By the way, if I had known being a little more pathetic would get me this level of commitment,” Yeonjun gestures around him, “I would’ve asked for a real girlfriend, too.”
“I’m told I was pretty pathetic, and even I didn’t get this kind of treatment,” Sunghoon reminds you.
You pat his arm consolingly. “Maybe if you had Jay on your side, buddy.”
“Yeah, what the hell, best friend?” Sunghoon eyes him accusingly.
Jay pats his other arm. “Sorry, I have ulterior motives with Mark.”
“Oh, so now Mark gets a girlfriend and a secret male lover?”
Jay scoffs. “Not those kinds of ulterior motives, but please. As if Mark could bag me.”
“Ladies, ladies, there’s plenty of Jay to go around,” you say placatingly. 
“Guys, I’m freaking out in here!” Mark wails from inside the office.
“Fuck, Jungwon said she’s sitting down now. Go!” Yeonjun pushes you and Jay towards the office.
In quick order, Jay gets the audio hooked up to Mark’s laptop, and he starts the song. While Mark hyperventilates between the two of you and you actually do share in the holding of his hands, Jay finds himself staring at you as you try to encourage Mark. You really are quite kind— he doesn’t think many people would have agreed to be dragged into this silly scheme, but here you are, throwing yourself into it wholeheartedly because there’s a chance it might secure Mark’s future happiness. 
The sun reaches its highest point in the sky just then, streaming in through the windows behind you and drenching you in golden light. Jay’s not sure if he’s nervous about getting in trouble for this or if he’s just been looking at you for too long, but he can feel his heart stuttering in his chest. It’s positively outrageous how pretty you are.
“Bro, what the fuck do I say?” Mark hisses, interrupting Jay’s very important investigation of the color of your eyes. “The song is almost over, please, you gotta help me!”
“Just tell her how you feel,” Jay offers. It’s not his best attempt at advice, but he’s distracted by the way your hair brushes against your neck. 
Mark splutters and fumbles and curses under his breath, but then the song is over, and Jay is turning on the microphone for him to speak. “Um, hey, so, yeah! Yeah. Uh, I’ve liked you for a long time… which you can probably tell, because of the song and everything.” Mark giggles nervously. “There’s, like, at least five more where that came from. Because I like you a lot, but I’m not great at talking in person, so I wrote all these songs, and oh god, this is super weird, isn’t it? I’m sorry if it’s weird, I just, well, I wanted to tell you. What I feel for you is so big I think I might explode; it makes me lose my mind and my breath and my ability to speak, and it leads me to do stupid stuff like this. And now you know. Okay, cool!” Mark reaches over and slams his hand to turn off the microphone. 
You and Jay share an exasperated look over Mark’s head.
“Mark, you didn’t even say who the song is for,” you remind him. 
He pales. “I didn’t?”
“Or who it’s from, but I think that part is pretty obvious,” Jay sighs. “Just text her right now, and tell her it was from you, and ask her out!”
“What? No, I can’t do that, I think I’m gonna be sick,” Mark moans.
You roll your eyes. “Mark, do it right now, or I’m telling your mom you cheated on me.”
“What? But I didn’t! And we weren’t even dating for real! And I just told her we broke up!”
“Right, I’ll say we broke up because you cheated on me.” You stare him down. “Seriously, I’ll call her tonight.”
“Nonono, I’ll text Mina, okay? See, I’m texting her right now.” Mark pulls out his phone and types frantically. 
Jay throws his arm around Mark’s shoulder, using the leverage to hit the send button on his phone. “See, that wasn’t so hard!”
“I need to go walk into traffic,” Mark declares. 
You smile breezily at him. “Sure, whatever. Love conquers all!” Behind his back, you and Jay high-five.
Jay says you should have dinner to celebrate Mark and Mina’s new romance (ignoring Mark’s pained “What romance? I’m dying.”), but you tell him that you’re volunteering at the community kitchen that night. Jay doesn’t miss a beat. “Sure, I’ll be there. We should talk about my thing, anyways.”
That’s how he finds himself in a hairnet and disposable gloves that night, making funny faces at the head of the community kitchen’s daughter, who’s running around underfoot. He’s been put in charge of chopping vegetables, while you’re stirring a huge pot of stew at one of the stoves.
“Watch your fingers,” you scold him half-heartedly. He’s devastatingly cute like this.
He has the audacity to wink at you. “I know my way around a kitchen, don’t worry.”
“Very cool, trophy husband.”
“What, no more 007?”
“Depends on the outcome of Mark’s text to Mina. Did you hear anything from him?”
Jay scoops up his vegetables into a large bowl and brings it over to you, nudging you aside with his hip so he can add the vegetables to your pot. “Not yet, but I don’t have him freaking out in my messages either, so I’ll take that as a win.”
You let him take over the stirring and turn around to lean against the countertop. “Cute hairnet,” you quip.
“Thanks. You think they’ll let me take it home?” he jokes. 
You nudge your chin in the direction of the little girl giggling at Jay. “I think she wants to take you home.”
He winks at her, then lowers his voice so that only you can hear him say, “She’ll have to get in line.”
You swallow and wonder if the stove is turned on too high. “Right, so what’s your thing about?”
“Later, yeah?” Jay gestures around you, and you suddenly remember that you’re in the middle of a busy kitchen, with everyone hustling to get ready for the dinner service starting in half an hour. 
You spring into action again, embarrassed at how easily you’d been absorbed into conversation with Jay. Something about the way he talks to you makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world— he’s always so attentive, nodding and responding to your every comment. You have to wonder why he hasn’t dated anyone seriously in college; he seems like he’d be the dream boyfriend. Hypothetically.
He only proves this point further when he reveals two containers of mac and cheese that he had picked up before getting there, which he microwaves for the two of you to eat after the dinner service is over. You turn on the lights in one corner of the cafeteria and sit at the only table that’s still left out: a children’s table where you have to balance precariously on seats that are too small for you. But it’s entirely worth it, knocking knees and elbows together, laughing too hard for what the situation warrants.
“I would’ve made you something myself, but I didn’t want to use up the kitchen’s ingredients,” Jay comments off-handedly.
Your heart glows in your chest. “That’s really thoughtful, Jay.”
He smiles and scratches the back of his head, suddenly shy. “Nah, it’s common sense, right? Come on, eat before it gets cold.”
Right then and there, Jay learns that he loves to watch you eat. You make exaggerated faces and ooh and ahh over something as simple as mac and cheese from the 24-hour diner down the street, and he finds himself itching to make something with his own two hands that will make you react like that. 
When you’re done eating, you sit back and sigh in satisfaction. “That was exactly what I needed. Now, tell me about your thing— what kind of mess have I gotten myself into?”
Jay hems and haws for a good minute before finally telling you about his parents’ upcoming 50th wedding anniversary. “It’s a little complicated because they had this, like, fairytale relationship, and of course I’m happy that they’re still so in love all these years later, but it’s kind of… a lot to live up to. Not that I’m complaining, because they’re awesome, but I don’t have that kind of relationship with anyone yet, so I haven’t brought anyone home to them.”
“So the rumors are true,” you mutter under your breath.
Unfortunately, Jay seems to have heard you. “What rumors?”
Flushing, you explain what you’d heard from Yunjin, who had heard it from Chaewon’s little. You’re quick to add, “I wasn’t asking around about you or anything!” 
Jay just smirks at you, something wicked and slow that only contributes to the heat in your cheeks. “I didn’t say anything.”
You hesitate before speaking up again. “So, if you don’t mind me asking… How come you haven’t dated anyone long-term in college? You’re, you know, perfectly okay to look at.”
Jay deadpans at you. “Wow, thanks, that really means a lot to me.”
You let out a huff of a laugh. “Shut up, it’s not a secret that you’re hot.”
Jay’s eyebrows shoot up, and you swear to god, he blushes to high heaven. “Th-Thanks.”
“Mm.”
It’s silent for a few long moments, then Jay clears his throat. “If I’m being honest, I haven’t dated anyone long-term in college because my parent’s relationship is a lot to live up to, and it’s not like I have a ton of time to find my perfect life partner in between everything else.”
“Ugh, tell me about it. Yunjin tells me I should try actually dating again, but it’s kind of a lot, right? Putting in the time and effort to get to know someone from scratch, when you’re not even sure how it’s going to pan out? And you’ve seen my calendar.” You laugh quietly. “And, honestly, I have this problem with dating where I get bored pretty easily.”
Jay leans forward, pushing into your personal space close enough to count your eyelashes, again. “Are you bored right now?” 
“No,” you answer, although you’re not sure why he’s asking. “Um, so, why do you need a fake girlfriend, then? I don’t think it’ll pass muster with your parents, if they want you to be in love for real.”
Jay fidgets with his fingers on top of the table. “Yeah, it’s kind of stupid, to be honest. My dad was hospitalized for a month last year, and it really shook us all. My parents are on the older side, and I’m their only child, and, well, I’d like to make them happy while they’re still around. Sorry, that was morbid. And I know it’s not like we’d be doing this forever, and it’s wrong to fake it, but still. They’d be overjoyed to see me in a relationship. I want to give that to them, even if it’s only twice.” He tells it to you like it’s a secret, and your chest caves in with the force of his sincerity.
“I don’t think that’s stupid. It’s sweet, Jay, really.” You reach out and still his fingers. “Listen, you know I’m really good at being a fake girlfriend, right?”
“You come highly recommended,” he mimics you from earlier, mouth quirking up in the beginnings of a smile. It lifts the atmosphere slightly, and you’re glad for it.
“Right, so don’t worry. Leave it to me. Your parents won’t suspect a thing,” you promise. “When’s the anniversary celebration?”
“Six weeks.”
You pull out your planner to start scheduling. “Great, so you can send me information about yourself, and I’ll do the same for you, and then we can find time to meet up and quiz each other about it and get our answers on our relationship straight—”
Jay’s hand lands around your wrist, stopping you from writing further. “Not that I don’t appreciate your… efficiency, but I don’t think that’s going to work. Like you said, my parents want to see a true relationship, and I don’t think flashcards are going to cut it. How about we just… get to know each other?”
You blink. “What, like daily one-on-ones, or something? Office hours, but just for each other?”
He bursts out laughing. “Oh my god, you’re serious, aren’t you?” He lets go of your wrist to hide his face behind his hands as he continues to laugh, which makes you smile despite yourself. He’s so goddamn cute.
You decide to humor him. “What do you suggest, then?”
“As much as I would love to monopolize your time, I don’t actually want to take up any of the precious few free spots on your calendar. You need to set aside more time for yourself, by the way. But for now, how about you give me the thirty minutes you schedule for getting to Nat’s and then back to campus every day? We can get to know each other then.”
“You want to walk me to the coffee shop and back?”
“Among other things.”
“… Such as?”
“Just you wait, Cinderella. I’m going to sweep you off your feet so hard, you won’t know what hit you. I’ll be the best fake boyfriend you’ve ever had.”
In the dim light of the after-hours cafeteria, with his long legs stretched out on either side of yours and the soft crescents of his smiling eyes twinkling at you, you’re inclined to believe him.
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Jay keeps his word. He shows up on the sorority house’s porch every morning, backpack slung over his shoulder and hands in his pockets at 7:45am. He doesn’t even have class until 11am (you know because you asked Yunjin to ask Jake), so his dedication impresses you. Sometimes, you’ll watch him approach the house from your window, bopping his head along to whatever he’s listening to in his earbuds. 
When you open the door to greet him, he always smiles sleepily at you and reaches out to grab whatever’s in your hands (usually art supplies or heavy reference books for your thesis). It’s a small gesture, but it shoots through your cotton-candy-soft heart as true and straight as an arrow.
Most mornings, the two of you will chat about anything and everything, swinging from homework to Greek life drama to pet peeves to Mesopotamian history. Occasionally, you’re both tired from your busy schedules and just end up sharing his earbuds, listening to something slow and soothing. More and more often, you find yourself stuffing supplies and books into your backpack until it’s grossly misshapen, just so Jay can have his hands free to brush against yours on the walk to Nat’s.
It’s not just the coffee shop, either. Suddenly, he’s everywhere in your life, as if someone had penciled in his name as one long continuous block in your calendar. He comes to the library with you, and you work on your assignments in companionable silence. He’s now a regular volunteer at the community kitchen, and he’s helping them design a new menu for the colder days coming soon. He even shows up outside the studio art workshop, bringing you takeout when you’ve forgotten to eat. At parties, the two of you dominate beer pong, with him bouncing balls off of his bicep into the cups just to make you fake your fawning adoration at him. He doesn’t have to know that it comes easily to you, especially when he’s constantly looking at you the way you know you look at beautiful works of art.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were actually courting me,” you comment thoughtlessly one day. You’re perched on the kitchen counter at the frat, watching Jay make ramen for the two of you. It’s almost three in the morning, and neither of you should be awake, but there’s something special about the quiet privacy afforded by the strange hour.
Jay forces himself to keep stirring the pot like usual. If he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t know any better, either, but he doesn’t want to look too closely into that at the moment. Instead, he opts to flirt. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he murmurs.
“Yeah, that’s why I said it, smartass.” But you let him off the hook, now preoccupied with reaching over to re-tie his apron.
“Ooh, ramen!” Jungwon’s face lights up as he walks into the kitchen, led by his nose. He looks like he just woke up, rubbing at his eyes with the ends of his sweatshirt sleeves. You have to stop yourself from cooing at him.
“What are you doing up so late?” Jay scolds him gently.
“Oh, hey, Dad. Hey, Mom. I just woke up; I had a weird dream.” Jungwon nods at you both and takes a seat at the kitchen island.
You gape at him. “What?”
Jungwon blinks a couple of times, looking more alert by the second. “Oops. Did I say that out loud? Sorry, Niki’s been rubbing off on me.”
“Niki calls us Mom and Dad?” You’re not sure if that’s sweet or weird.
“As a joke! In a jocular manner. Jovially.” Jungwon throws up a peace sign, as if that helps.
“I’m glad to see the English degree is paying off,” Jay remarks dryly. He looks like he took the Mom-and-Dad thing much more in stride, except for the tips of his ears, which burn red. It’s a dead giveaway that makes you smile fondly, because it’s so him.
“Will you make some more ramen?” Jungwon bats his eyelashes at the two of you.
“See, it works much better when Jungwon does it,” you tease Jay.
“Can’t argue with you there, honestly.” Jay puts another pot of water on the stove to boil. “You should have more than just sodium and carbs, though,” he tells Jungwon.
You nod, hopping off of the counter to rummage through the fridge. “Yeah, you don’t eat enough vegetables. Maybe that’s why you’re having weird dreams. Aha!” You emerge triumphantly with a salad kit.
Jungwon laughs. “And you wonder why Niki calls you Mom and Dad.”
Jay scoffs. “That’s just because he hasn’t met Chan.”
“Fair enough. What are you guys doing here so late, anyways?”
You pause in assembling the salad to point a salad tong at Jay. “This guy just follows me everywhere.”
“We’re in my frat house,” Jay retorts. 
“I could be here for someone else,” you argue. 
Jay’s gaze pins you down, warm and earnest. “You’re not, though.”
You smile at him. “No, I’m not.”
Jungwon coughs. “Get a room.”
You reach over to ruffle his hair. “You’re standing in it.”
The three of you eat your ramen and salad in silence for a bit, all falling victim to varying degrees of sleepiness. Without noticing it, you’re scooched up next to Jay, shoulders and knees and ankles pressed together in one long line of comfortable intimacy.
Jay thinks about Jungwon’s question as he slurps at the noodles. What are you guys doing here so late? The answer almost eludes him. These days, he finds himself drawn to you like a magnet, pulled in by forces far stronger than himself. 
He remembers that the two of you had been doing work in his room after the main library had closed, and you had fallen asleep on his bed at some point, a sketchbook dangling from your fingers. He had spent a ridiculous amount of time admiring your sleeping form, indulging in his favorite pastime of counting your eyelashes and resisting the urge to lay beside you. Eventually, your stomach had woken you up, and he insisted on making you some food, even if it wasn’t as nice as he would have liked to do for you. Now, looking at you chatting and joking with Jungwon, Jay feels his heart expanding into his lungs. You fit into his life so perfectly, and he’d like to think that he fits into yours, too. It’s almost too good to be true— could this be what his parents started with? 
When you’re done eating, Jungwon waves the two of you away, insisting that he should do the dishes since you cooked. You’re not about to argue with that, so you pat him on the shoulder before following Jay back up to his room. 
“He’s a good kid,” you tell Jay as you hop on his bed again, grabbing your sketchbook to pick up where you left off.
“He is.” Jay tuts at you. “And you should go to sleep.”
“I will, I will, just let me finish this sketch, okay? Besides, I don’t see you turning your laptop off, either.” You jut your chin out stubbornly.
Jay glances at the Wikipedia rabbit hole he’d been going down before your stomach had growled loudly an hour ago. He’s done with his work for the day, and he had just been keeping you company for the last two hours. “I have super important, time-sensitive work to finish,” he lies solemnly.
“Jay, I can see that you have the Wikipedia page for sinkholes open.”
He slams his laptop shut. “Actually, I’m done,” he declares, flopping down on the bed beside you. He turns his cheek from where he’s level with your stomach to look up at your hands moving across the page. “What are you working on in there?”
You make a displeased face. “People. I have to do one more human portrait for my portfolio, and it’s driving me nuts. Here, this one is of you.”
Jay lifts his head, astonished to see himself reflected back on the page. In smooth, sure strokes, you’ve captured him in tender detail: strong jaw, sharp eyes, and mouth twisted in concentration, probably from earlier when he’d actually been doing work. Jay’s jaw works as he struggles to figure out what to say. He’s unbelievably touched that you would draw him. “Can I keep this?” he asks finally.
“It’s not even done yet. And it’s not that good,” you warn him.
“It is to me. C’mon, please?”
“Maybe when I finish…” You trail off, swayed by the senseless patterns he’s tracing on top of your knee. “Which I won’t, if you keep distracting me.”
He smirks and stills his hand, looking like he’s about to tease you before he interrupts himself with a yawn. “Alright, goodnight, Cinderella.”
“'Night, 007.”
When he wakes up the next morning, he finds the lingering scent of your shampoo and a complete sketch of himself, now decked out in a tux worthy of James Bond. It makes him laugh out loud, and he knows he’s in trouble when he slides out a picture of him with his cousins from a picture frame to put your sketch in the frame, instead.
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Before you know it, the day of the Parks’ wedding anniversary celebration has arrived. You’re on a four-way FaceTime call, with Chaewon lounging on your bed as you try on various dresses.
Kazuha is more invested in asking you about your relationship than helping you decide what to wear. “I’m just saying, I think it’s interesting that you and Jay have been, like, glued together for well over a month.”
“We’re getting to know each other better, so we don’t mess up in front of his parents,” you explain for the millionth time.
Kazuha wiggles her eyebrows at you. “Suuuure. Why didn’t you just send him one of those scarily detailed questionnaires like you did with all the other guys you fake-dated?”
Chaewon motions for you to spin in the billowy dress you’re currently in. “Too beachy,” she decides. “But ditto to what Kazuha said.”
“It’s because she like-likes him,” Sakura sing-songs.
You stick your tongue out at her. “Grow up, will you?” 
“Forget about that— have you guys hooked up yet?” Yunjin demands.
“Yet? No, Yunjin, what the fuck,” you complain.
“Gross,” a familiar voice groans from Yunjin’s corner of the FaceTime. You, Kazuha, Sakura, and Chaewon all zero in on her square.
“Jake?” You exclaim.
Yunjin giggles and moves the camera to show Jake sitting at his desk in his room, wearing his nerdy glasses and hunched over a textbook.
“Did you guys just hook up?” Kazuha blurts out. 
“Gross,” you repeat.
Yunjin rolls her eyes. “Grow up, will you? And no, I’m just here because it was too loud at the house.”
The rest of you fall silent on the call, especially you and Chaewon, demonstrating how decidedly not loud it is in the sorority house.
Yunjin blushes and clears her throat. “Whatever. Hey, you should totally wear that sparkly navy velvet number! The one that cinches at your waist.”
You rummage around in your closet and pull out the dress in question to try it on. “This one?”
Sakura whistles. “Oh, for sure. Good eye, Jen.”
Yunjin blows her a kiss. “Of course, of course.” She points at you. “That’s the one, babe. You have, like, the sluttiest waist ever, second only to Sunghoon; you have to wear that.”
Sounds of agreement abound, except from Jake, who whines, “You guys don’t think I have a slutty waist?”
“You’re a whore in other ways, don’t worry,” you reassure him dryly. You do another spin for Chaewon. “This isn’t too much, though?”
Jake suddenly pops into view of the camera. “It’s a formal event, and Jay is going to lose his mind no matter what you wear, trust me.”
“That’s not the point,” you insist.
The girls respond in unison, “Yes, it is!” 
And you have to admit, the way Jay’s mouth stays open as he gives you the once-over a few hours later is gratifying, to say the least. For good measure, he does it again, letting his eyes linger at the dip between your collarbones and the curve of your mouth.
Molten heat spreads through you in response to his wandering eyes, ratcheting up in intensity when he smirks at you, purposeful and knowing.
You elect to check him out, too, knowing that you’re not the only person who can get flustered here. He cuts an unbelievable figure against the setting sun, leaning against his sleek black car, hands in his pockets and legs crossed at the ankles. The tuxedo he wears fits criminally well, emphasizing his broad shoulders and long legs, and you can’t stop yourself from wondering what he’d look like taking his tie off. On second thought, this may have backfired; you only find yourself feeling warmer the longer you stare at him.
Thankfully, he starts moving, coming up to the porch to hand you a bouquet of baby’s breath.
“Oh, good idea— should I hand these to your mom or your dad?” You ask, taking the flowers from him.
He laughs, surprised. You are too cute for his own good. “The flowers are for you, Cinderella. My parents and I are allergic to pollen, actually.”
“Oh.” You hold the flowers closer to your chest, giddiness touching you from head to toe. He got you flowers, even though he’s allergic. “Thank you, Jay.”
He hums and reaches out to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “Happy to do it. I saw the flowers in your room dying the other day. Go put them inside; I’ll wait out here. I can feel Chaewon’s stare drilling into the top of my head, anyways.” He looks up and waves at Chaewon, who’s hanging out of your window shamelessly.
She shouts, “Have her home by midnight, or she’ll turn into a pumpkin!”
“I don’t think that’s how it goes, but okay!” He throws her a thumbs-up.
Inside the house, you’re seized with the urge to splash some water on your face, just to calm yourself down, but that would ruin your makeup. Instead, you place the flowers in a vase of water and trust that Chaewon will bring them up to your room for you, after she’s done heckling Jay.
“Leave my guy alone,” you yell in her direction, pulling at his arm to get him down the stairs and to his car. 
“Your guy, huh?” Jay looks at you with uncontrollable fondness.
“Just for the night,” you say, but you don’t miss the way his smile widens at the way you don’t deny it.
Ever the gentleman, Jay opens the passenger door for you, helping you gather the ends of your dress and tucking them in under your legs. He remains crouched for a moment, looking like he’s debating with himself about something, and then he goes for it, leaning over and buckling you in.
When you raise an eyebrow at him, all he says is, “Precious cargo,” and then he’s shutting the door, leaving you flushing once more.
The car ride to his parent’s place is easy and comfortable, even with the charged atmosphere that lingers between the two of you. Conversation always flows like water with Jay; you’re debating the finer points of how to determine provenance for historical artifacts when you arrive. Guests are littered across the front lawn, conversing with each other but centered around his parents.
Suddenly, you’re nervous. “Do you think they’ll like me?” You ask Jay.
He looks at you like you’ve grown another head. “Are you serious? Of course they will. You’re you.”
You swat at his shoulder even as you smile widely. “Your unconditional faith in me notwithstanding, I’m serious, Jay. I want to be able to live up to this fairytale romance thing.”
He takes your hand in his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Believe me, you’re a dream come true. Let’s go, Cinderella.”
You gulp and curse your thundering heart, but then you’re five feet away from his parents, and you’re exclaiming at how in love they look, all these years later. Jay’s dad is distinguished in salt-and-pepper hair, and his mom is all smiles when she tells you that you’re too pretty for Jay.
“Mom,” he whines.
“Oh alright, come here, my beautiful boy.” She brings him in for a hug and beams when he kisses her cheek. Your heart melts like ice cream in the summer; he’s a mama’s boy, through and through.
Jay’s dad asks, “So, how did you meet?” 
You open your mouth, prepared with your story. “I’m Jay’s friend’s twin sister, and then we kind of got caught in a scheme to help one of our other friends ask out the girl he liked, and we just got closer after that. Jay’s easy to like.” So far, it’s all true.
Jay doesn’t look like he’s faking anything when he continues, though. “She’s easy to love.”
“Way to one-up me,” you joke, but you feel like you’re floating, cradled by the buoyancy of the affection in his eyes.
“Seriously, she’s so smart it makes my head spin, and her heart shines brighter than the sun. She makes me laugh and work harder to keep up, and I’m lucky to just stand by her side. Being with her is the most natural thing in the world, like breathing, or my heart beating.” Jay doesn’t take his eyes off of you the whole time he’s speaking; he wants to commit every change in your expression to memory, from surprise to fondness to something deeper.
Jay’s dad hums approvingly. “Good work, son. You sound like I did when I met your mom.” He brings his wife in to kiss her temple.
“Enjoy the party, lovebirds,” she coos at you, and then they’re gone, off to greet other arrivals.
You’re frozen in place, with one hand still clutching at Jay’s like a lifeline. “We didn’t practice that,” you mumble.
He shakes his head and rubs his thumb over your cheek with his other hand. “No, we didn’t. Are you mad?”
“Mad? I think I’m jealous of your future girlfriend,” you say, forcing a laugh. It sounds wooden even to your ears.
He frowns. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Act as if you don’t know how much I like you.” 
The world stops turning on its axis. “What?”
His gaze slips down to your mouth, tracing your cupid’s bow. “You heard me.” He turns hopeful eyes on you. “Do you… feel the same?”
Just like that, the world resumes its motion, and you can’t let him go a second longer without knowing how much he is loved. “Desperately.” 
He breathes a sigh of relief, and you think he’s going to kiss you— you need him to kiss you— but he hugs you close instead, lips hovering against your ear. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that,” he murmurs.
“If it’s anything close to how happy I am, I probably have a good idea,” you laugh. You’re surprised at how quickly the burning urge to have his mouth on yours has tempered into something more grounded and permanent. 
“I have to go do something for my parents, but I think I’ll die if I have to leave you. Will you come watch?” 
You’d go anywhere with him. “Of course.”
He squeezes your hand. “Thanks, doll.” Against your will, your hand spasms in his. He giggles, delighted. “Duly noted.”
“Shut up,” you complain, but you follow him all the way to the tented dance floor set up on the grounds behind the house, only letting go after he kisses each of your fingertips in turn.
You’re surprised to see him pull out an eight-string guitar, and even more surprised when he explains to the gathered crowd that he’ll be playing the song from his parents’ first dance. They look perfect, swaying in the center of the floor, but you only have eyes for Jay.
You watch as his fingers pluck deftly at the strings, a romantic Spanish melody that barely reaches your ears over the rush of all your adoration for him. As soon as the song is over, he catches you in his arms, lifting you up and spinning you around twice before setting you back down, hands at home around your waist.
He asks if you want to dance. You teeter back on your heels, looking at the graceful curve of his mouth and thinking back to the nimbleness of his fingers. “Honestly? I want to kiss you. Really badly.”
He exhales and holds you tighter. “You won’t let me take you out first?”
“If you count the last few weeks, you’ve taken me out, like, a million times.”
“But a real date, doll. I want to cook for you, and we can get tea lights, and a picnic blanket, and— god.” Jay sucks in a sharp breath when you move his hands higher to cup underneath your chest. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he sighs, pressing his forehead to yours.
“I hope so. Stop being so nice, and take me to your room, please?”
Jay’s eyes flick heavenward. There’s only so much self-restraint left in him. “You win.”
And when he finally kisses you, pressed up against the door of his childhood bedroom, you nearly cry from how tender it is. He kisses you slowly, reverently, like you’re one of the saints from his history books.
“Sometimes, I think I’ve dreamt you up,” you confess to him. The words hang precious and delicate in the space between your lips.
“Let me show you I’m real then, yeah?” He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then licks right into you, eliciting a gasp from the back of your throat. Your fingers find purchase in the soft hair at the back of his head, and you realize that you’ve been breathing the wrong air your whole life; the groan that passes from his mouth to yours is the only thing you want in your lungs from now on. 
Liquid desire pools in your stomach, rising until you think you might choke on it. “Jay, please.”
“Please, what? Use your words, doll.”
“Touch me.”
That’s all he needs to hear. Quicker than you realize it, but just as urgently as you need it, you find yourself laid out on his bed, and then he’s demonstrating that he knows more than just how to play guitar with those thick fingers.
When you make it out of his room an hour later, you’re still glowing with happiness. Jay knows he looks equally lovestruck, not least because his collar is hiding several lipstick stains from you. 
You offer to help him redo his tie, so he anchors you unnecessarily close to him, hands sweeping up and down your side. “I don’t think I told you yet, but you look really nice tonight,” he murmurs. “You look really nice all the time, actually.”
You bury your face in his chest. “I’m going to explode if you keep sweet-talking me like that.”
He presses his smile to the top of your head. “Nooooo, you’re too pretty to explode.”
“Jay!” But you’re both laughing, bathed in the soft magic of newfound devotion. You couldn’t dream up anything better.
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(Dating Jay is a lot like fake-dating Jay, as it turns out. In some ways.
In other ways, Jay still manages to take your breath away with new and inventive methods. He really does make you dinner, with tea lights and a picnic blanket, ensconced in the twilight of a park you drive an hour away to get to. He even makes foie gras torchon for the occasion, from scratch, and he watches you intently as you moan in delight at the taste. You joke about your breath being fishy when you kiss later, but he just shrugs, unbothered and already moving so that his head disappears underneath your dress, making you moan in a different way.
So, yes— there’s a lot more kissing, and sex, and intimacy that makes you want to curl up in a ball and hiss at how vulnerable it makes you. But Jay is always welcome in the prickly patches of your soul, and he wants those parts of you as much as he wants the parts of you that paint him in aching affection.
When he finally tells you he loves you that winter— in so many words, because it shows in his every action otherwise—, it’s three in the morning again, and your hands are fluttering across his brow, smoothing out the creases from a night of worrying about whether he’s really good enough to take over the family business. Your fingers, lovely and dear to him, stitch together the cracks in his self-resolve, and he can’t help but let the words out. His heart absolutely sings when you repeat the words back to him.
Some time later, you ask him to sit for a portrait for you. He doesn’t think too much of it, especially as the seasons bleed into one another and spring brings an influx of senior events, pollen, and the impending question of the future. He’s at your senior thesis, asking you detailed questions during the audience Q&A and wrapping you up in the biggest hug when it’s over, and you sit in on the final class he TAs, applauding when he’s done.
At the showcase of your final portfolio, his jaw drops when you reveal the second portrait (after having laughed his ass off at Jake blubbering over the first one and Yunjin kissing him in public to shut him up). 
The second portrait is of him, and his parents. From his dad’s strong brows, to his mom’s smile lines, to his own hands; every detail is captured, shimmering in loving light. 
He finds that his eyes are wet when you come up to him and brush your thumb against his  eyelashes, smiling brightly at him. “Do you like it?”
“I love it. I love you, so much, like crazy, you don’t even know,” he rambles, laughing through his tears now.
You kiss him quickly but firmly, just a reminder that your mouth was made to fit against his. “Love you more, London boy. Speaking of…” You lean back to stare at him through your eyelashes. “I got the Rhodes,” you whisper.
His eyes widen like saucers. “You’re coming with me?”
“More like you’re coming with me,” you say, knowing that Jay had requested to be placed at his family business’s England location to be close to you in the event that you got the scholarship.
“Obviously,” he relents without missing a beat. “I’m going to follow you everywhere. Can’t get rid of me now.” He dips his head to kiss you longer. Lightning still shoots through his fingertips, just like the first time, and every time after that.
At graduation, you tell him, “You know, I think I’ve decided what I want your favor to be.”
He smiles at you, familiar and true. “Yeah? What’s that?”
“Just love me, for a long, long time.”
“Easy, Cinderella.”)
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an1m3bunbun · 9 months
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Forcing General!Lilia to finally take care of himself after a very busy day. Helping him take his armor and uniform off, as he breaths a sigh of relief, since he finally feels free.....
Leading him to a steaming bathtub, helping him undress and get in the water. By this point he's still complaining of not needing all of this, but those complaints die down as soon as you gently touch his chest with a washing cloth, wiping away the dirt, sweat and frustration as he starts to relax and enjoy the feeling of being taken care of....
Washing his hair and massaging his scalp will cause him to purr. He hardly does it, as he never really feels safe enough to be this relaxed, always having the protection of those close to him in mind.
As the water starts to get cooler, helping him out and letting him dry himself off, while getting some fresh, comfortable clothes.
Leading him towards the bed, sitting him down to comb and braid his hair, before pulling him under the covers to cuddle and hold each other. Giving him soft kisses, as he tries to pull you even closer, even though that's not possible, while rubbing his nose against yours.
He is thankful for all of it, even if he can't express it right now. But he makes a mental note to cook something for the both of you. Good luck with that.
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auratusaria · 1 year
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Prompt No. 30
Hero stood by the bus stop, hugging themself as they waited. Despite the layers of clothing they have on, the biting cold continued to pierce through it, sending shivers down their skin.
"The bus sure is late today." Someone spoke beside them, though Hero didn't need to look to know who.
"What are you doing here?" They asked with a slight annoyance to their voice.
"So grumpy. I'm here to pick you up." Villain huffed out a breath.
Hero glanced at them, "You mean, kidnap me?"
The criminal's face contorted into a scowl, "Please. If you don't want my offer then fine--"
They whipped their head away with huff of annoyance, turning around to go back to their car when they felt a light tug at their sleeve. Villain glanced at their nemesis, their gaze averted as the tips of their ears turn a bright red.
"Since you're so pushy. Then sure, whatever..." Hero mumbled.
Any other day, Villain would've continued messing with them, it might be because of the snow falling slowly in the background, or the cold air, but Villain had never seen Hero look soft. Perhaps they can tease them another day...
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rayroseu · 10 months
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And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more"
To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it
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happy fathers day to the peepaw ever !! *ੈ✩‧₊˚
this is inspired by this concept of @llondonfog of silver manifesting his unique magic because he wants to help lilia out of his nightmares-- im not sure where i was going with this or how it correlates to the concept mentioned to be bluntly honest 😂 i just went ahead and drew the imagery i get whenever i reread this drabble 😌✨
all in all i just wanted to see lilia in magical pastel skies (thank you so much silver for the beautiful UM-- HE never disappoints 🙏💕) now get fluff'ed hardened general of briar valley 🤗✨‼️
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icycoldninja · 4 months
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Fluffcember #4 Cloud x Reader
Chocobo farm
"Cloud, can I open my eyes now?"
"Not yet."
"Please?"
"I said, not yet."
You blew out a long, pouty exhale as Cloud led you down what you thought was a path. He'd told you to cover your eyes so you didn't spoil the surprise, but you were SO curious, it was everything you could do to keep from opening your eyes then and there. "Watch your step," He warned, guiding you by the shoulders as you almost tripped over a particularly large rock. It was then when you realized that he was leading you somewhere into the countryside--Midgar streets were paved and clean, none had stray rocks just lying around. "Where are we going?" You asked again, impatiently. You heard Cloud sigh. "I can't tell you, remember? It's a surprise." He continued leading you down the road for a few moments, the only sounds either of you heard were your own footsteps. After a while, Cloud stopped walking. He grabbed your arms to signal you to stop as well. "Can I open my eyes NOW?" Cloud exhaled softly beside you. "Not yet. Wait here." Judging by the sounds of metal clinking and leather scraping along the ground, Cloud was walking away. You huffed, your eyes still closed, and wrapped your arms around yourself. Several minutes passed with you just standing out on the road, alone. You began to wonder if this was a joke. Several more minutes passed before Cloud returned, his arrival announced by the sound of metal jingling as he walked. "This way." He said, taking your arm and leading you down another path. After a few more minutes of walking, you reached your destination. A series of loud chirps filled your ears, as did the sounds of many pairs of feet stomping around. Cloud took your hand and guided it to something in front of you; you soon felt the soft touch of fluffy feathers under your fingers. "Surprise." Cloud said, a hint of quiet laughter in his voice. You opened your eyes in amazement, only to find the cutest, fluffiest, fattest chocobo you'd ever seen standing before you, chirping happily as you petted it's head. "What do ya think?" Cloud asked, arms akimbo. You turned to him and flung your arms around his shoulders. "Ahhhh, they're so cuuuuuteeee!" You squealed, strangling him with a hug. "Thank you so much!" Cloud nodded, then reached out to give the fat chocobo a few headpats. "They are cute, aren't they?" You nodded excitedly, watching as the chocobo shook it's head happily, similar to the way a dog wagged its tail. "They're adorable!" You peered past the fat chocobo to see several baby chococbos running around, chirping at each other. "Aww, look at the babies!" You cooed, grabbing Cloud by the hand and dragging him along the fence to see the little balls of fluff run around each other. A few minutes later, the mother chocobo came out, fluffy golden feathers shining in the sunlight. She turned to peck lovingly at her babies, then herded them back inside their pen. As she turned around, you pointed at the animal's posterior. "Look, it's just like your hair!" You joked. Cloud scoffed, shook his head, but said nothing. The two of you admired the chocobos for a while, soon losing track of time because of their cuteness. Eventually, the sun began to set, something Cloud noticed. "It's getting late." He remarked, nodding. "We should head back." "Yeah," You agreed, ruffling the feathers on the fat chocobo's head one last time. "Thank you for bringing me here. I had so much fun!" Cloud nodded, "You're welcome. I'll...uhh...bring you again sometime." You grinned, then reached up and ruffled his hair the way you did with the chocobo. "I'd like that, Chocobo-head." With a scoff and a deep (poorly hidden) blush, Cloud took your hand in his and walked you down the path.
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onceuponastory · 6 months
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love me, too - sam wilson x reader
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I hope we kiss goodnight It might just end my life - kiss goodnight by i don't know how, but they found me
Plot: One night in Delacroix, Y/N and Sam sit together on his sister's porch swing. Sam is preoccupied with Sarah and Bucky’s growing romantic interest in one another… whilst Y/N is preoccupied with her romantic interest in Sam. Pairing: Sam Wilson x Female!Reader. Also hinted Bucky x Sarah (Bucky has a crush). Warnings: A small mention of alcohol, and just a lot of sickly sweet fluff. But as always, if I miss any triggers, let me know. Notes: This is for @flufftober Day 7: Porch Swing. I love writing Sam fluff, he's the best, and I adore this story, so I hope you all love it too! 💖 Not beta'd, so any mistakes are my own.
“Y/N, when are you going to stop torturing yourself?” Bucky asks from beside her as he takes a swig from his beer. Y/N frowns. She went outside to sit on Sarah's porch swing for a moment of relaxation and solitude. She came to Delacroix for a break from the city and to unwind. Of course, seeing Sam, Sarah, Bucky, AJ and Cass was the main reason, but she can see why they love it so much whenever she’s there. It’s so peaceful, and the townspeople are so welcoming. So when Bucky joined her and told her he needed to ask her something, she definitely was not expecting such an intense question to leave his lips.
“Jeez, deep much? And besides, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“That’s a lie.” Another swig. When Y/N stays silent, Bucky rolls his eyes. “Really? You’re not going to talk now?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” She lies again, which Bucky once again picks up on immediately.
“Mhm. Sure. I may be an old man, but I’m not stupid.” He raises a brow, staring at her and just waiting for her to break. When she still doesn’t take the bait, Bucky sighs. “I’m talking about how insanely in love with Sam you are, and how you still haven’t told him yet.” Y/N gasps, swatting at his arm. Bucky may be one of her best friends in the world… but he’s also a complete pain in the ass.
“Shut up!” She hisses. “It’s none of your business when, or even if, I’ll tell him. Besides, did you really come out here just to pester me on my dating life?” Y/N asks. Bucky shakes his head. 
“Nope. Sarah wanted me to ask you if you want some ice cream.” He smiles, and Y/N raises a brow.
“Oh, you wanna talk about my dating life? How about your huge crush on Sarah, lover-boy?” Bucky’s face goes scarlet, and Y/N’s burst of laughter fills the air. “I knew it!” She gasps. “You’re absolutely not one to talk about me not telling Sam. When are you going to tell Sarah?”
“I-I don’t know!” He stammers. “Anytime I go near her, Sam stares daggers at me.” He groans, and Y/N nods. She’s definitely been witness to a few of those looks. If looks could kill, Bucky would be in serious trouble. “Look at us. Best friends, and each in love with one of the Wilsons.” 
“And we’re both terrified to tell them the truth.”
Bucky chuckles. “How about we just both agree to tell them whenever we’re ready? …Whenever the hell that is.” He suggests, and Y/N agrees. “Perfect. I’m gonna head back in, you coming?” Bucky asks, and Y/N shakes her head. 
“I’ll stay here for a bit. See you later.” As Bucky departs, Y/N settles back into her seat, staring out at the sunset, and the sky’s vibrant pink and purple hues. God, it’s so beautiful out here.
For a while, she’s alone with her thoughts, until:
“Hey, you. Buck said you were out here on your own. What’s up?” Sam asks, sitting down beside her. 
“Of course he did. I’m gonna fucking kill him.”
She looks over at Sam, who grins back at her, turning his body to face her. As she wonders what it would be like to be wrapped in his warm embrace, she can already register her heart beating just that little faster. Despite the cooler chill in the air as autumn makes its way in, being with Sam like this makes her feel all warm and cosy inside. Well… that’s how Sam always makes her feel. Initially, she thought you felt this way towards everyone, including friends. But then she realised that nobody else makes her feel so content, or can make her laugh as hard as Sam does. Nobody else would let her call them at all hours of the night for a chat, even if it’s about mindless nonsense. 
Nobody ever cares as much about her as Sam Wilson does. 
And god, she loves him so much.
“Hey yourself. I could ask you the same question, you know.” Sam chuckles, a classic Sam Wilson smile that sends her heart into a flutter. She hopes his reply is something like: 
“I just wanted to see you.” or “I have to tell you something.” Unfortunately though, it’s not that. “Oh my god, I just had to get away from my sister and Bucky flirting with one another. It’s driving me insane.” Y/N rolls her eyes, suppressing a groan. Here it comes.
Ever since she arrived, Sam has been complaining about Bucky's crush on Sarah, and Sarah's reciprocated feelings for him. And since he can’t take his frustrations out on either of them, he's dumping it all on her. Of course, she understands he just wants to protect his sister, and despite knowing Bucky’s a good guy, it’s natural to worry. At first, she was thankful for his complaining, since it gave her a chance to think about something that wasn’t her crush on Sam. Now, though, it’s driving her crazy.
“Are you listening to me?”
“Yeah.” she murmurs, and Sam raises a brow. 
“You sure? You look….” He murmurs, and she rolls her eyes.
“Well Sam, there’s only so many times you can hear about Bucky and Sarah staring at each other.” She points out, and he nods.
“I know, I know.” His words make Y/N breathe a sigh of relief. Finally, it's over. Until: “I just don’t get it! Like what could she possibly see in-“
“Oh my god, Sam, please stop.” She groans, leaning against the back of the swing.
“But- “
“No! That’s all I’ve had to put up with since I got here!” She exclaims. “And I understand you’re nervous, but Bucky’s a great guy and Sarah will be fine. She's raising those two boys by herself, I think she can handle your best friend.” In hindsight, she should’ve calmed down and thought about what she was going to say next. But after spending so long bottling things up, she’s ready to erupt. “This was supposed to be a relaxing trip, and I wanted to tell you how I feel about you!”
“What do you mean?” Sam asks, his brow raised and his voice suddenly more serious.
“I was going to tell you I love you!” She gasps. Her admission shocks them both, and her eyes widen. “Oh fuck. Oh shit. Oh, fuck.” 
“Oh. Oh.” Sam murmurs. The embarrassment comes then, almost drowning her under its weight. It’s too late to turn back now, to protect her heart before it shatters completely.
So, since she’s already digging herself a giant hole, she might as well keep going.
 “Fuck, Sam, I have been in love with you for… to be honest, I lost count.” She chuckles awkwardly. Sam doesn’t laugh. Or smile. He just stares at her, which makes Y/N’s anxiety kick into overdrive. “I don’t mind if you don’t feel the same.” She lies. Honestly, it would tear her apart, to give so much of her heart to one person, her favourite person in the entire world, and receive nothing in return. “I just couldn’t go another day without telling you.”
“Y/N.” Sam speaks, his voice a lot softer now. He scoots closer, so much so their bodies are almost touching. “I’m sorry.” And then, Y/N truly wants the ground to swallow her whole. She tries to stand up, ready to leave and to forget this ever happened… until: “I wasn’t finished.” Sam chuckles. He takes a deep breath. “I was going to say I’m sorry for being so focused on my feelings and not paying attention to you.” He finds her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. Y/N feels the warmth radiating from his touch, and she slowly starts to calm down. “And I’m sorry for being an idiot.” He continues, and she raises a brow.
“What do you mean?”
“I didn’t tell you how I feel about you.” He answers, and her mouth drops open. Sam leans in, cupping her cheek. “I love you so much. You’re the most gorgeous woman I know, and I’m so glad you love me, too. Although, I don’t think anyone could love you as much as I love you.” A deep heat settles on her cheeks, and Sam chuckles. “Y/N?”
“Mhm?”
“I really want to kiss you.”
“I really want you to kiss me, too.” Smiling, Sam leans in close, pressing his lips to hers in a soft kiss. It’s perfect, like one of those rom-com kisses where the music reaches a crescendo and you feel it throughout your entire body. It’s better than anything she’d wished for. 
They sit there for the rest of the night, wrapped in each other’s embrace. Watching as the sun disappears below the horizon, and as the stars and moon appear. “I love you, you know that?” Sam asks, and Y/N giggles.
“Yeah, I think you mentioned that once or twice.” But she still can’t stop grinning like a fool. A total, lovesick fool. Sam kisses her temple.
“Well, you better get used to hearing it more and more, because I’ll never let you forget it.”
“Good.” She smiles, leaning in for another kiss.
“I am sorry for being a pain in the ass, though.” Sam repeats, and Y/N chuckles.
“You don’t need to be sorry. You’ve more than made up for it anyway.” She grins, raising a brow, and Sam kisses her temple.
“Did I ever tell you I love you?”
“Once or twice, yeah.” She giggles, and Sam grins. 
“Well, I’m going to keep telling you. Because I do love you Y/N, and I never want you to forget that.” Y/N smiles, pecking his lips. 
“I could never forget you, Sam. You’re stuck with me for the rest of your life.” She teases, and Sam’s grin grows even wider.
“Sounds perfect.” He smirks, leaning in once more.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
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maybe ill let you win
Promptober Day 08 - Stress Relief Promptober Masterlist
831 words.
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The last few days have been a blur, rushing from one arena to another, sleeping on the bus and not having any time to themselves. George has been struggling to chat with Charli with the time difference, and Adam has been solemn all day about missing his daily Facetime with Carly to say goodnight to his son before he goes to bed. Ross has been Ross, disappearing with John and Polly.
Then there was him. Matty was lonely. He was surrounded by people all day long but something twisted inside of him whenever conversations ended or people left the room. Life on the road was never easy, but now things were different. They were all different. No longer 20 years old with people waiting for them at home, lives that moved forward once the tour was finished.
He’s sat next to Brittany in the front of the bus, playing games on his phone while she works. The seat is narrow, so they’re pressed together tightly, and he can feel every move of her body. An iPhone is pressed to her ear as she talks, her pen tapping the tabletop and her long hair brushing his elbow occasionally.
“Does Matty Healy want to do a brand deal for Pepsi Max?” Brittany clarified with the person on the call, looking pointedly in his direction.
He snorts, shaking his head no and sipping from his Coke can instead.
“No, Matty Healy does not.”
She smiles at him, and he swears his heart skips a beat.
They’re somewhere in the United States countryside. Never-ending empty fields surround their bus, and the days feel long sometimes. He’s bored of his phone, bored of watching movies in the back and hearing George complain about the size of their bunks.
Brittany is too busy on the phone to entertain him, so he huffs in his seat as he looks out the window. She knocks his knee with her own to bring his attention back to her. She’s still talking but taps at the corner of her notebook with her pen. There are four lines drawn, intersecting each other to create nine boxes. Naughts and Crosses.
She’s drawn an ‘x’ in one corner and passes him the pen. His fingers brush over hers as he takes it from her hand, and the game occupies them until the entire page is dedicated to their numerous. He keeps a tally on the bottom of the book, marking down the winner of each round. It’s an even draw, he gets ahead a few games, and then she sneak attacks him, taking him down time, and time again.
It’s innocent and fun, the kind he hasn’t had in weeks. He’s finally relaxed, stress seeping from his body with every silly game they play. Tension leaves him in waves with every cheeky smile she sends him when she wins.
Her eyes light up as she looks for spare space to jot down some notes. Her book is full, the pages covered in her neat penmanship and their latest boredom buster. She grabs his arm suddenly, dragging it in front of her on the table with a solid thud.
“Yeah, go ahead,” she tells the person on the phone.
He’s pressed impossibly close to her now as she marks his arm in black pen. He can smell her hair, vanilla and something sweet, and he takes a second to admire her up close. Her dark lashes and the way her lips pout when she’s really concentrating. Her nose scrunches when she doesn’t like what she’s hearing, and her shoulders tense when she wants to interrupt the conversation.
She continues taking down the important details. His skin became inked with a non-permanent kind of tattoo. One of her hands holds his wrist, and he admires the dark polish staining her fingernails.
She’s always so put together, and he doesn’t know how she does it. He also wonders who it’s for, but trying to get information out of her is like drawing blood from a stone. He’s up to the challenge though.
She hangs up and sighs, opening the notes in her phone and transferring all the details she’s written on him into the device. Her thumb traces over the words as she doublechecks she’s copied everything down correctly. It feels nice. Then she realises what she’s done.
“Fuck, sorry,” she licks her thumb before rubbing at his shin, the words smudging, staining her hand.
“It’s fine,” he promises.
She gives him back his arm, and there’s a moment where their faces are inches apart. He watches her eyes flit down to his lips, and he unconsciously wets them. Their mouths are so close that he can practically feel her minty breath, and he wants to inch closer, closing the gap. He might do it.
William slams on the brakes, the bus lurching as he frustratedly hits the horn on his steering wheel. The spell between them is broken again, and he goes back to feeling tense.
Day 9 of Promptober
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