#if I had been able to keep this class at an A I might’ve been able to drag up my gpa | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

asahicore · 10 months

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kiwi and layla - sjy

pairing. jake x fem!reader synopsis. in which you mistake jake’s backpack for your own, making you each go home with the other’s bag. both of you are too curious for your own good, so you quickly find out that you excel in the subject the other is failing - a mutual tutoring agreement ensues, and it turns into much more than what you had expected. genre. high school au, f2l, lots of fluff and some angst too, f2l, shy reader x outgoing jake warnings. food & swearing, mention of parent death and divorce, kms jokes, jake being stupid but also really cute (lmk if i've missed any!) word count. 26.3k a/n. this is part of the unexpected collab !!! go check out the other fics and caelin thank u for hosting <333 hope u guys like this one, it took me a while but i had so so much fun writing it !!! i love my jakey in here he's a little bit confused but he's got the spirit. @zreamy thanks for being the world's awesomest beta reader and a decent friend ig... 2 baddies wouldnt be the same without you... lifeguard wet body sunghoon coming soon guys dont miss it! as always pls remember how important reblogs and feedback is for us writers!!! it's what keeps us going <3 enjoy!!

listen to the playlist!

This was not your backpack.

In your defense, it looked so similar to yours - scratch that, it was the exact same as yours - that you couldn’t possibly have been able to tell the difference between the two bags until you’d opened one of them. Just a basic black Eastpak that probably a hundred other kids in your school owned with nothing to tell them apart, because you hadn’t had the mind to add a little something to it and make it recognizable. You hadn’t really needed to - your backpack was always on your back, next to your seat or in your locker. There was no way you might lose it or mistake it with another.

Until today, obviously. Instead of having a chill last class before spring break like every other teacher, your psycho math teacher Mr Choi had decided to give you a major test on this otherwise beautiful Friday afternoon. While other students watched a movie or played Kahoot, you were stuck in a cold classroom with algebra questions in front of you. Mr Choi had argued that this would be better than having a test after the holidays and ruining your time off with studying, but a test was a test, and math was math, so you hated the idea anyway.

To eliminate all cheating possibilities, Mr Choi made his students only take a pencil and eraser with them, leave their bag at the back of the classroom and put their phone in a box he kept on his desk. Plus, with his hawk eyes watching intently, there was no way to sneak answers on a small sheet of paper or even on your palm.

When the test was over, your brain was so fried and you were so eager to get the hell out of there that you didn’t even notice the two identical black backpacks next to each other, you just grabbed the first one you saw, not even questioning that it might not be yours.

And indeed, yours it was not. From your snooping around, you quickly found out it belonged to one Jake Sim.

You knew Jake. Although you’d been attending the same school for the past three years, you could probably count the number of times you’d talked on one hand - but you knew him. Or at least, you knew of him. You knew that he was good at STEM subjects and that he was on the soccer team; you knew he was a really sweet guy and was easy to talk to, even for someone shy like you.

Most importantly, you knew he was friends with Park Sunghoon. This was important because you had liked Park Sunghoon since the moment you’d laid eyes on him - or rather, your whole friend group had. It might’ve sounded extremely odd to others, but you and your friends had a few random people at school you liked to keep tabs on or create backstories for, and Sunghoon, because of his dashing looks that had struck all four of you in your first week of freshman year, was one of your victims. Well, you liked to think of them as characters on a TV show rather than victims, but to each his own. Your other characters included that popular sophomore who already considered herself a celebrity because of her ten thousand followers on TikTok anyway, the French and Spanish teachers you were sure had a thing going on, and that one guy in Yena’s biology class that only showed up every two weeks but always looked stoned (hat guy, Chaewon liked to call him, even you’d never once seen him with a hat on). It was all harmless, really - none of you ever actually went up and talked to them, just discussed them among yourselves.

Perhaps Sunghoon was different, because each of you had had a class with him at some point, so you’d all had at least shared a word with him. You probably hadn’t talked to him more times than you’d talked to Jake, so the information you knew about him was pretty surface-level - he was an ice skater, but everyone knew that, and he was shy like you, which was immediately noticeable. He also had one of the most handsome faces you’d ever seen. But again, everyone who saw him knew that.

You, Yena and Chaewon had debated whether one of you should just go ahead and make a move (Hyewon didn’t participate because she already had a boyfriend, but she was all for approaching the boy). You guessed you could describe what you felt towards Sunghoon as a sort of crush, even if it was one you shared with your friends - you found him cute, and you got nervous when he was around. But you were more the watch-from-afar-and-pine type, so you were satisfied with liking him from a distance. You didn’t think you actually had the guts to strike a conversation with him - that was more Chaewon’s thing.

However, this didn’t mean you weren’t curious about the contents of his best friend’s backpack. Your being shy didn’t mean you weren’t interested in other people’s lives - if anything, you were quite nosy. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but you were just a regular teenage girl, so this was fine, right? After just a few minutes of snooping, you found out Jake Sim wasn’t hiding any big state secrets in his Eastpak, anyway. Just some textbooks, notebooks, and a lot of single sheets of paper. It was pretty messy in there.

Your idea of him being good at STEM subjects was correct - he kept all of his graded tests in the sleeve pocket of his math notebook, and there was not a single one that had received a note under 95. He even seemed to be doing some extracurricular exercises - there were formulae that were completely unfamiliar to you and that you were sure you hadn’t done in class. You found it slightly insane, but that might have just been because you despised math and wouldn’t understand why someone would want to do more of it than was required of them.

His English homework was another story. His essays had more red from the teacher’s pen than his own black ink, and from the grades on his reading comprehension tests, you highly doubted he’d actually read any of the assigned books. You weren’t in the same English class but apparently had the same teacher, Ms Park, so you were studying the same thing. You couldn’t help but cringe as you read his answers on a Pride and Prejudice reading test - he seemingly kept mixing the sisters up, assigning actions and character traits to Lydia that clearly belonged to Jane. At least he somewhat got Darcy right, writing that “he’s probably not as bad as he looks,” with no further explanation.

As you aimlessly flipped through his English notebook, curious about the way he took his notes - or if he even took any - you noticed some scribbles in the margins. Looking closer, some of them were in his handwriting while others were in an unfamiliar one. It looked like some sort of conversation, so you assumed the other writing belonged to his deskmate. You also did this with your friends in classes where the teacher was very strict about no chatting in class.

dude coach said if I fail any of my classes I would be out of the team, you read Jake’s handwriting.

Wait seriously????

yeah and I suck at english so Im scared it might actually happen

You just need to study more bro

bro I DO but this shit is hard

Then find someone to help you

neither of you guys is that good in that subject either tho

Ok ouch but also just find someone else then

bro who

IDK man

Y/N maybe ? she’s good at English and she’s nice so she might say yes

there you go about y/n again dude MAYBE you ask HER to teach you some sonnets

Shut up you’re the one who needs help dumbass

whatever isn’t it weird just asking her randomly though like i dont want her to feel like she has to say yes

Lol if she sees your grades she might do it out of pity

fuck u man

You were surprised to see your own name written there - it felt weird knowing that Jake and his friend were talking about you, for some reason. And what if that friend was Sunghoon? You had a hard time believing he not only knew you existed, but thought of you as good at English and nice. You liked to think both of these things were true.

He was also spot-on about saying you would agree to helping out Jake in those subjects, but what he got wrong was thinking you’d do it out of pity. Clearly, you and Jake were in very similar positions. You didn’t have any sort of club you’d be kicked out of if you failed a class, but it sure as hell wouldn’t look good on your college applications, so you needed to get your math grades up.

Jake and you both desperately needed something the other person could help with, so you had a feeling he wouldn’t turn down the offer that was brewing in your head.

—

This was not Jake’s backpack.

He noticed it right away - it was much heavier than his own and the straps were tighter around his shoulders than they should be. He looked inside for some clues about who it might belong to, and luckily, the first thing he found was a journal that had Y/N’S DIARY written on the cover page in big, pink letters.

Unluckily, however, he’d also noticed that you had practically sprinted out of the classroom as soon as the bell rang, and indeed, you were already far gone when he tried looking for you around school. He had to get to soccer practice anyway, so he put the issue to the side for the time being.

When he got home, he had to shower then have dinner, so it wasn’t until 8 p.m. that he remembered he had your backpack. He had meant to text you straightaway about it, and he knew it was wrong to look into someone’s belongings, but he couldn’t help himself, especially when his best friend Sunghoon had liked you for ages. Maybe this was an opportunity to find out more about you.

Your mind-blowing grades in English don’t come as much of a surprise to him, and after reading through your most recent essay, he thought you definitely deserved them. Your essay was on a Shakespeare play he had never heard of - you apparently also had Ms Park for English, and he didn’t know she was doing Shakespeare in class, so he wondered for a second if you were actually crazy enough to read another book and study it. As if 300 pages of Jane Austen weren’t enough as it was.

What shocked him were your math grades. It was like looking into a fucked-up mirror: while you excelled at English, you sucked at math; while he excelled at math, he sucked at English. You were just as close to failing your math class as he was at failing English.

Now that he thought about it, maybe Sunghoon’s idea hadn’t been so dumb - you could help him out, and he had an actual argument as to why you should, rather than just using pity on you.

As he put your stuff back in your bag, he was reminded of something - your diary. For some reason, the pretty floral pattern on the cover made him feel even worse for opening the journal in the first place, but he did it anyway. Either you’d only just picked up the habit of writing in a diary or you had finished your previous one recently, but this one seemed pretty new, as only about ten pages had been filled with your neat handwriting. Judging from the dates at the top of almost every page, you wrote in there everyday, and Jake only felt even worse that you hadn’t been able to write in it that day.

Still, he flicked to the first page and started reading. And he read and read, unable to take his eyes away from your diary. He thought he wouldn’t have cared much and a page would have satisfied his curiosity, but the way you wrote about the people around you and about yourself fascinated him. Basic high school things like friend drama and annoying teachers actually became interesting through your words. You didn’t use particularly complicated sentences or unheard-of words, on the contrary, you used simple language, and that spoke a lot more to Jake than any of the classics he’d attempted to read for class.

And then, he saw an all too familiar name in an entry dated from just a few days ago.

I sat next to Sunghoon today. It was during physics and both of our desk partners were absent, so Mrs Kim made me change seats. She always does this, and I used to wonder whether she hated to see an empty seat or to see a student sitting on their own, but whatever the reason, today, I was just happy about it. This isn’t our first time sitting next to each other in class, but I was still nervous, since I wasn’t expecting it. I hope he couldn’t feel the awkwardness practically oozing off of me or the way I very obviously struggled with the exercises (obviously, anything to do with math is not my forte). We shared my textbook because he’d forgotten his, and he showed me his notes when he saw I couldn’t keep up with Mrs Kim as she told us what to write down. We only exchanged a few words but I was satisfied when class was over. It’s odd, because you’d think someone would want to talk to the person they like and get to know them more, but I don’t feel that with Sunghoon. Maybe it’s because we’re both so introverted, and he seems to have just as hard a time as I do starting conversations, so I’ve sort of accepted our silent fate. I’m fine just continuing to steal glances at him from across the cafeteria.

After that, there were a few more pages of writing up until yesterday's entry, but it was the only mention of Sunghoon. Jake had apparently been wrong to think that a girl’s diary would be full of rantings about her crush and things along the lines of “omg, he looked at me today”.

But you had very clearly referred to Sunghoon as the person you liked, and Jake wasn’t going to let that go so easily. This was precious information that he held in his hands now, so he had to figure out how to deal with it properly for your sake as well as his friend’s.

Turns out there was more he could help you with than just algebra.

—

Seeing Jake Sim in a setting other than school was slightly odd, if you were being completely honest.

You had just been about to text him about the backpack mix-up when you’d received a message from the man himself, asking if you could meet up the next day to exchange them. In response, you’d asked where you should meet, thinking he’d offer either his house or yours, or some halfway point between them, but he surprised you by proposing some café in the center of town. They have good hot chocolate there, he’d said, and that had been enough to convince you.

And also I have something I want to talk to you about.

Your stomach had turned at this message - what on Earth could Jake Sim need to discuss with you had been your first thought, and then you realized you also had plans you wanted to share with him. So his idea of going to a café was actually good for you, too.

You’d only been waiting for about five minutes when he appeared at the café, red and panting from seemingly sprinting to his destination.

“Y/N, I’m sooo sorry,” he immediately said when he saw you waiting. “I was planning to be early, but when I got on the bus I realized I literally forgot your bag, so I had to go back but the next bus wasn’t for another twenty minutes so I just ran the whole way here, and now I’m all sweaty, and I’m late, and I’m really sorry.”

He’d rushed through his sentence and was breathing heavily as he looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer. He seemed so genuinely sorry for such a small thing that after your surprise faded, you started laughing. It was his turn to be surprised, and he immediately stopped talking at the sound of your soft giggles.

“It’s okay, Jake. I haven’t even been waiting five minutes,” you explained, smiling. “Let’s just go in, yeah?”

Jake’s heart did something weird just then, and the feeling was so unfamiliar and confusing that he decided to promptly ignore it. As if in a daze, he stood still for a couple of seconds until the sound of a bell ringing, the one the café had on its doors to signify the entrance or exit of a customer, snapped him out of it. He followed you into the shop, let you order and pay for you both (“I’m the one who took the wrong bag, it’s the least I can do,” you’d said) and sat across from you at a booth in the back.

You gave each other your respective bags back, then started chatting as you sipped on your hot chocolates (Jake had been right - they really were delicious). He was surprisingly easy to talk to, and whether he sensed you were a reserved person or was just naturally talkative, you liked that he both managed to do most of the talking and ask you loads of questions at once. Usually, you wouldn’t have really cared to listen to someone go on and on about their passion for soccer and the recent game that their team had won, but for some reason, you were hooked on Jake’s every word. The way his eyes widened in excitement as he recounted the winning goal he scored, the way the volume of his voice decreased as he filled you in on the team gossip even though no one was listening to your conversation, the way his grin turned into a proud smirk as he mentioned his coach congratulating him - every single one of his actions had you mesmerized. You’d never seen anyone so expressive in their speech, never seen anyone punctuate every sentence with a movement or a facial expression. It was just fun, listening to him.

Even when he didn’t talk, he stayed expressive. He asked you whether you did anything outside of school, and he listened intently as you told him about the theater group you’re in, humming and nodding and laughing at all the right moments. Usually, you wouldn’t have talked about it for more than thirty seconds, afraid to bore others with unnecessary details, but Jake’s reactions and the questions he asked made you actually feel listened to and like what you were talking about was interesting. So you grew more confident and told him what you loved about acting and about theater, about your own gossip (the arrogant actress who got the lead role and thought she was better than everyone else, that one guy who was clearly flirting with three girls at the same time), and you almost couldn’t believe Jake seemed so entertained by your stories.

“So, you said your group focused on more classic plays, right? Does that mean you’re good at English Lit?”

With his spoon, Jake scooped some whipped cream into his mouth, hoping he was appearing as nonchalant as he was trying to be. He had to make you think he’d deduced that just now and not because he had been snooping through your backpack just the night prior.

You, however, could not have cared less how he’d figured it out - you were just grateful he had segued into this topic of school and grades, because you’d been wanting to bring it up yourself but had no idea how.

“Um, yeah, actually, it’s my best subject. Math, on the other hand…”

You chuckled as his eyes widened and he leaned in across the table, pointing his spoon at you as he spoke. “See, that’s interesting, because math is my best subject, but I suck at English Lit.”

“Oh, really?” you asked, trying to sound genuinely surprised even though this piece of information was not at all new to you.

“Yeah,” he said, looking back down at his almost-finished drink with a small smile on his face.

“You know-”

You and Jake had spoken at the same time, and your eyes locked for a second before you started laughing. You gestured at him to go on first.

“I actually need pretty urgent help in English. Coach said he’ll put us out of the team if we fail even just one of our courses, and I’m very close to failing that class.” He took a moment to let out a sigh. “So, if you want, we could help each other out. Me with math, and you with English.”

His eyebrows were slightly furrowed and he bit his lip as he looked at you expectantly. You thought he looked far too nervous for such a simple request, expression more like a boy who’d just asked his crush to the prom rather than offering mutual help you both desperately needed. You couldn’t help the smile that grew on your lips - you had never known Jake Sim to be so… cute. But he was waiting for an answer, so you pushed the thought out of your head.

“That’s a great idea, actually,” you replied, as if you hadn’t had the exact same idea. You were just relieved you hadn’t even had to bring it up yourself. “I also really can’t afford to fail math. It would look terrible on college applications.”

Jake let out a long, loud exhale. “God, yeah, college, I hadn’t even thought of that. Even more motivation to get better grades now,” he said with a chuckle.

You chuckled along, then cleared your throat and sat up straighter. You watched with amusement as Jake mirrored your actions and even the fake serious frown in your brows. You presented your hand for him to shake, which he did without hesitation.

“So it’s a deal then. We’ll tutor each other until we’ve gotten our grades up.”

“Deal,” he replied. As you both withdrew your hands, he dropped his serious facade and burst into giggles, a sound you hadn’t expected from the boy but somehow fit him well. You watched his face closely for a second, noticing the curl of his lips and the crinkle at the corner of his eyes, before breaking into laughter yourself.

You stayed in the café for another half hour, going over details of where and when you’d meet, of what exactly you needed help with (“Everything,” you’d said, to which Jake had replied “Same”), and just talked some more.

“I’m taking the 53 that way,” Jake said when you exited the café, pointing towards the bus stop.

“Oh, so am I!” you exclaimed.

“Seriously?! What’s your stop?”

And that’s how you and Jake figured out you only lived two bus stops away from each other.

“That’s so cool! It’ll make it easy to meet up then,” he said, and you hummed in agreement. After a pause, he added: “But if we live so close to each other, how come we didn’t go to the same schools earlier? Aren’t you usually supposed to go to the one in your district?”

“I used to live in another part of town,” you explained. “Then my parents divorced when I was in middle school, and I stayed with my dad because he lived closer to the school I was at, but I moved to my mom’s place for high school.”

“‘Cause she lives closer?”

“Yeah, basically.” There was more to it, but you didn’t think Jake would be particularly interested in your parental issues - although you surprised yourself for even considering telling him. If Jake sensed that you weren’t saying everything, he didn’t push, just swiftly changed the topic as you waited for the bus to come.

When you got home some time later, the first thing you did was open your diary and start writing. It had felt wrong not to write in it even just for a day, so it was a relief to feel the pages between your fingers and the familiar scent of the paper and your perfumed pen. You wrote without thinking too much, simply letting all of your musings out into your diary and freely brushing the tip of your pen across the pages.

You didn’t ever reread your entries right after writing them, but if you had that day, you might have noticed all you could write about was the boy you’d drank a hot chocolate with.

—

Spring break week passed by far too quickly, and it was on the first Monday back at school that you and Jake met again. He had soccer practice on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays, while you had theater rehearsals on Thursdays and Saturdays, so you’d agreed to meet up every Monday and Wednesday after school. Since his mother worked as the school nurse, she drove him to and from school everyday - so on Monday, you met Jake in front of the nurse’s station, waiting for his mom to wrap things up before she drove you both to their home.

You had been surprised to learn that the kind nurse that never asked too many questions and always let students take a nap if they didn’t feel well was Jake’s mom, but upon reflection, it made sense. Once you knew, it was almost obvious that she had raised him - they shared the same friendliness, the same comforting smile and the same ability to make conversation. The whole ride home, she asked you about yourself and thanked you for agreeing to tutor “our little Jakey,” because “God knows he needs the help.”

You couldn’t help but laugh when a blush crept on Jake’s face and he looked out the passenger seat window with an embarrassed frown, muttering something like “Thanks a lot, Mom.”

She noticed his reaction and laughed along with you. “I’m just saying, Jakey-poo. It’s good to know to ask for help when you need it,” she cooed, reaching a hand out to ruffle his hair. This only made Jake groan loudly and hide his face in his hands. You didn’t know Jake very well, but this flustered, red-faced side of him was definitely one you liked seeing.

The first thing that greeted you when you reached Jake’s house was a happy welcome home bark.

“You have a dog?!” you exclaimed, unable to reel your excitement in.

“Yeah! This is Layla,” Jake said, giving energetic rubs to the Border Collie that made her whole body shake side-to-side but that she seemed to thoroughly enjoy.

“Hi, Layla,” you cooed, crouching down to her level to let her sniff you. She decided you were a person worthy of petting her. “She’s so cute!”

“I think she likes you,” Jake said, a grin on his face, as he watched Layla presenting her belly to you and asking for scratches there. “Do you have a dog?”

“We have a Corgi at home. And a cat, too.”

“That must be fun,” Jake chuckled. “Do they get along?”

“Depends. They have a bit of a love-hate relationship.” You looked up at Jake, and it was uncharacteristically quiet as you locked eyes for a couple of seconds. You both looked away at the same time, surprised by the sudden eye contact.

You gave Layla one last rub and lifted yourself up. “Um, should we get started?”

Jake paused for a second as if he’d forgotten what you were here for in the first place, then started nodding his head quickly. “Right, yeah. Let’s go to my room. Downstairs is just one big room and my mom will probably watch TV or make dinner or something, so it might be distracting…” he explained, lightly scratching the back of his neck. It seemed like he was embarrassed to be bringing you to his room, which you couldn’t help but find endearing.

“Okay, sounds good,” you said with a smile, hoping it’ll reassure him.

You followed him up to his room, ignoring his complaints as you lingered on the framed photos on the wall next to the stairs and giggled at his baby pictures.

“Do not look at those,” he said with a warning tone that didn’t scare you in the slightest. When you didn’t listen, he grabbed your hand that had been pointing at a photo of baby Jake in the bathtub and forced you to keep walking.

“Why?” you asked, a slight whine to your voice.

“‘Cause it’s embarrassing! I was an ugly baby.”

“What?! You were so cute!”

“Whatever. I’d rather study English than talk about this, and that’s saying something.”

When you looked at Jake, you were surprised to find that he actually seemed upset about this. You weren’t sure what was so wrong with looking at his baby pictures, but the last thing you wanted to do was make him mad, so you stayed quiet and continued your way to his room. Once there, although you were infinitely curious about all the posters, pictures, figurines, trophies, and other small tokens of Jake’s life, you didn’t ask him about any of them, just sat next to him at his desk and opened The Picture of Dorian Grey, the book you had both been studying in Ms Park’s class.

You’d agreed on spending forty-five minutes on English, have a small break, then spend forty-five minutes on Math. It wasn’t a lot, but you both had other homework and things outside of school you needed to do, so you’d decided to start out that way and see if it worked out.

You were glad to see how seriously Jake was taking this - he listened intently to what you said and asked questions when he didn’t understand something. You quickly figured out that what he didn’t like about English Literature was that the answers weren’t as straightforward or as logical as they were in math, and even worse, that multiple answers were possible depending on the reader’s interpretation.

“It just all feels like a guessing game,” he said, resting the side of his head on one of his palms. “How am I supposed to know what this dude meant? And if it can be analyzed in different ways, how can Ms Park tell me the way I understand it is wrong?”

“It’s all about the way you justify it,” you explained. “You can’t just say whatever. Ms Park will look out for how you use the text to support your answers.” You then went on to pick out a specific part of the book, asking Jake to analyze Dorian’s mindset in that scene.

“He sounds like he’s going insane,” Jake said flatly when he was done reading, getting a chuckle out of you.

“Exactly. How do you know that?”

“I don’t know, just the words he uses,” Jake replies, shrugging.

“Okay, underline those words,” you instructed gently. Jake sighed, but he complied.

“There.”

“Good. What can you say about those words?” When Jake just looked at you like a lost puppy, you reformulated your question. “What do they have in common? What type of words are they? Are they common nouns, verbs…”

Jake looked back at the words he’d underlined on the page. “They’re… adjectives?” he said, tone unsure.

“Exactly!”

Jake paused. “So?”

“So now you can say that the author uses many adjectives to convey the gradual loss of sanity of the main character.”

“Oh.”

When you looked at Jake, he wore an expression like the words on the page were finally starting to make sense to him. “That’s the content. You can also look at the structure. See how many punctuation marks there are? Commas, semi-colons, question marks… It’s like he keeps cutting himself off. His thoughts are all over the place.”

Jake nodded slowly. “So, I just need to look out for things like that?”

“Basically, yeah. And the more you practice, the more these things will stand out to you. It actually becomes somewhat repetitive sometimes.”

Jake let out a shaky breath. “That’s actually relieving to hear,” he said with a chuckle.

Thirty minutes passed by like this as you showed Jake ways to make sense of a literary text. When the timer rang, he leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms out wide with a sigh. He put his hands behind his head and let it hang back, and the way your stomach flipped at the sight of his exposed neck and Adam’s apple made you look away immediately. You could barely meet his eyes as he turned his head to look at you, still in that same position, and, with a smirk, asked if you were ready for some snacks.

You gulped, trying to look as normal as possible. “Uh, yeah, sure!”

Downstairs, Jake presented you with all sorts of snacks - there were so many, you felt like you were in a convenience store. This was worlds away from your ingredient-only household. You opted for some biscuits and a banana while Jake made himself a bowl of cereal. A very distracting ten-minute long argument then ensued about the order of milk and cereal - horrifyingly, Jake poured his milk before his cereal. You thought it was a myth that some people actually did it that way, but Jake very proudly defended his choice.

“I bet you eat pizza with pineapple on it, too,” you said half-jokingly, only for your joke to punch you right back in the face.

“Duh,” Jake answered.

You could only shake your head in defeat. “Let’s just get back to studying before I murder you.”

“Damn, Y/N,” Jake said, laughing. “That’s harsh.”

“And you’re a freak,” you retorted, a grin blooming on your lips.

“You know, you remind me of my friend Jay,” Jake mused as you walked back up the stairs. “He has so many of these small battles that he just won’t let go of. He got super worked up over an argument about mint chocolate chip ice cream once.”

“Let me guess, you like that ice cream?”

Jake shrugged. “It’s not my favorite, but I’ll have it once in a while.”

“God, Sim, you just get worse and worse.”

You sat back down at his desk and started eating. “I bet you think I’m weird for liking math too, right?”

“That’s the worst offense of them all.”

Jake’s sudden quietness caught you off guard. When you turned your head to look at him, he was already gazing at you with a smile and a sort of thoughtful glint to his eyes, resting his chin on his palm. It sounded like he was thinking out loud when he spoke next. “Guess we’re perfect opposites of each other. Like two peas in a pod!”

The realization of what he’d said dawned upon him as soon as the words left his mouth. He slowly lifted his head as his eyes widened. “I don’t mean- just, you know, since you’re good at English and I’m good at math, and- you know… I didn’t mean it in a weird way, or anything…”

His eyes kept glancing back and forth between you and his bowl of cereal, as if he was scared of looking directly at you but wanted to check your reaction.

As a smile grew on your face, you kept your eyes trained on your biscuits so he wouldn’t see your flustered expression. But when you looked at him again, he held your gaze, mouth slightly agape. You didn’t have it in you that he had gotten the idiom completely wrong. “I know, don’t worry.” You chuckled. “We are opposites of each other. You just better be as good at teaching math as I am at teaching English,” you teased.

You watched as a smirk tugged one corner of Jake’s lips up and he raised an eyebrow. “Who said you were good at teaching English?”

You gasped. “You said you understood better now!”

Jake’s smile softened as he giggled. “I’m just teasing. You are a good teacher.”

You sat up straighter at the compliment, a proud smile on your face. “Your turn, Mr Sim. I’m all ears.”

“Right,” he said, mirroring your posture. “Shall we start by going over Mr Choi’s test from last week?”

Your smile dropped instantly at this. Reluctantly, you fished your graded paper out of your bag. You already knew Mr Choi was a psychopath, but you still didn’t understand where he found the will to grade thirty papers over the weekend. You avoided Jake’s gaze as you handed him your test with a big, red, circled D- at the top.

You cringed as Jake sighed. “At least it’s not an F, right?” he said in what you could tell was an attempt at reassurance but somehow only made you feel worse. He looked over your answers quickly, trying to find what in particular you struggled with. “All right. Let’s start from the beginning, yeah?”

For the next forty-five minutes, Jake went over each test question with you, breaking them down and explaining how to solve them in a way you understood. The words he used were so much clearer than the half-assed explanations you were used to from Mr Choi, and for once, math actually made some sort of sense. Your brain still felt broken after almost an hour of numbers and greek letters, but at least, you felt smarter rather than dumber at the end of it. You had never been more grateful for the sound of a phone alarm than the one signaling tutoring was over.

“That wasn’t half-bad, right?” Jake asked with a wide grin.

You felt so tired, you could probably pass out right then and there, but Jake looked so proud of himself after you had been able to complete an exercise correctly on your own that you didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. “Right,” you replied, mirroring his grin. “You’re an okay teacher, I guess.”

He jokingly glared and tutted at you, but you both laughed right after. “I need to walk Layla, so I can walk you home, if you want?” he offered as you started packing your things. His words had an uncertain tone to them, as if he wasn’t sure you’d still want to spend time with him after this - but it only took you a second of thinking to realize you’d rather continue hanging out with him than going home on your own.

“Sure! I need to walk Kiwi too, actually.”

“Your dog’s name is Kiwi?!”

“Yes,” you said, chuckling at his fascinated tone.

“That’s an adorable name.”

“Thanks, I chose it.”

“Oh, then I take it back. Worst name I’ve ever heard for a dog.”

“Hey!” you exclaimed, lightly hitting him on the head with your math notebook, making him raise a hand in self-defense as he laughed.

“Sorry, sorry. Does your cat also have a fruit name?”

A pause. “Mango,” you mumbled, and he immediately burst into laughter again. You side-eyed him as you zipped up your bag.

“Wow, you have amazing taste in pet names, Y/N.”

“Shut up,” you said, laughing along. Then you realized something, and you suddenly stopped laughing, looking up at Jake with wide eyes that made him slightly start to panic. “Oh my God, Jake, are our dogs going to meet?”

“Our dogs are going to meet,” he echoed in a sort of fascinated whisper. You both understood the other - dogs becoming friends was the cutest thing ever.

“Let’s go,” you whispered back excitedly.

When you reached the living room downstairs, you bid Mrs Sim goodbye, then went to the entrance to put your shoes back on. “You two sure get along well,” you heard her say to her son with a suggestive tone. Even though she had dropped the volume of her voice, the door was wide open and there were only a few meters between you, so you’d heard her loud and clear.

“Geez, Mom,” Jake groaned, seemingly irked by his mom’s insinuation.

“It’s just you’ve never brought a girl home, Jakey-”

“Okay, we’re leaving now! Layla, come!”

You hadn’t even realized how wide you were grinning until Jake saw you tying your shoelaces and grumbled “What are you smiling so hard for.”

“Nothing,” you giggled, and your smile grew as you watched a grin break through his pretend-upset expression.

You sighed contentedly as you stepped outside, letting the crisp early April air hit your face. You tightened your scarf around your neck and buried your hands in your pocket and you and Jake started walking side by side, Layla happily leading the way. The streets were fairly quiet at this time of day, save for the yells of children still playing in their backyards before dinner and a few cars of people coming home late from work.

Only the first five seconds of the walk were silent, until you couldn’t contain yourself anymore. “So, never brought a girl home, huh?” you asked with a teasing smirk.

Jake let out an offended scoff and looked up to the sky as if God could help him out of this one. Sadly, He didn’t, so Jake had to find an answer himself. “I’m not talking about this with you.”

“Why not?”

Pouting, Jake spared you a sideway glance. “Because you’re a girl,” he replied, voice lowered to a mumble.

You chuckled at this. “Very astute observation, Jake.”

“No, I- Ugh,” he groaned before laughing along with you. “I don’t need a girl to know how bad I am with- well, with girls.”

“I can help with that,” you said before you really thought about it. “I mean, I’m not a love expert by any means, but I can maybe give, I don’t know, pointers or something if there’s someone you like-”

“There’s no one I like,” Jake quickly cut in. “Um, not right now, at least.”

“O-okay,” you replied, nodding. “That’s fine.”

“What about you? Do you like anyone?”

As Jake asked the question, he realized he already knew the answer - you liked Sunghoon. How could he forget?! Half of his plan had been to make you get closer to his friend, but he hadn’t even started thinking about that yet. In his defense, he’d come up with that plan three days ago.

Your answer surprised him. “Um, no, me neither. Not right now, at least,” you said, repeating his words with a smile on your face. You locked eyes for a second before looking away at the same time, chuckling.

“Right,” he said. He knew what he had read in your diary, so maybe you were just too shy to admit you had a crush on his friend of all people.

An unexpected awkwardness settled between the two of you, and you more than anything wanted it to go away. Even though it’d only been a few days since you and Jake had started getting to know each other, you already felt comfortable enough to be yourself around him, and it usually took you weeks before reaching that level with anyone. This hadn’t happened since you met Yena and Hyewon at the beginning of high school - they had been friends since middle school, and so had you and Chaewon, and when the four of you met, you had instant chemistry. But maybe it was slightly too early to start talking about crushes with Jake.

For once, you were the one to break the silence - you asked him whether he knew what he wanted to do after school. Basic question, but you were genuinely curious.

Looking a little bashful, he confessed his dream had always been to be a math teacher and soccer coach at a middle or high school. You told him he already had the talent for it, and when he blushed at your words, you made sure to tease him for it.

“I’m not sure yet,” you said when he returned the question. “I know I wanna go to college and continue doing English Lit and theater there, but that’s about it.”

“That’s already good enough,” Jake said with a smile. “Still got time to figure out what comes after, right?”

You naturally mirrored his smile - there was something contagious about Jake’s puppyish grin that made it hard not to smile yourself. “Right.”

The three of you reached your house quickly after that. Your mom still hadn’t come home from work, so Kiwi was even more excited than usual for your arrival home. You and Jake watched fondly as your dogs sniffed each other for a few seconds before starting to run around together. The fact that they got along made you really happy, perhaps unreasonably so, and you started bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet as you watched them play. “Our dogs are friends!” you exclaimed excitedly.

When you turned to look at Jake, he wasn’t watching the dogs like you had been - he was gazing straight at you, eyes soft with something that made your heart skip a beat. You couldn’t look away, and it was only after a few seconds that he seemed to snap out of the sort of daze he was in. He cleared his throat and you finally tore your eyes away from him.

“Let me just- Kiwi! I need to put his leash around him,” you said, speaking quickly to dissipate the weird atmosphere as best as you could. You led Jake down the path you usually took with Kiwi that led to a park in your neighborhood, and you were relieved when normal conversation started again.

Jake insisted on walking you back to your house even though he had left his earlier. He made a whole show of not going until you’d walked inside and closed the door, so you’d rushed to your window to shout his name and wave goodbye at him, which made him laugh.

You turned back to Kiwi when Jake and Layla had turned a corner and you couldn’t watch them anymore. “Are you happy you made a new friend, Kiwi?”

The Corgi barked happily at you in response - probably more at hearing his name than because he understood your question, but still, you liked to think you could communicate with your dog on such a level. You chuckled and took him in your arms. “Me too.”

—

Apparently, you couldn’t even wave to someone in the hallway without being interrogated about it anymore.

“Y/N, did you just say hi to Jake Sim?” Chaewon asked like you’d just insulted her whole family.

It was 10 a.m. on a simple Tuesday morning, the day after Jake and you had studied together for the first time, and you’d just walked past the boy - so of course, you said hi to him. Maybe, your heart started beating slightly faster when you’d noticed him approaching. Maybe, it was nice to be on the receiving end of his friendly grin.

“Yes?” you replied, sentence coming out more like a question.

“Since when do you say hi to Jake Sim?!”

“Since today, I guess.”

“But why?!” She’d raised her voice so much, you’d gotten strange looks from other students in the hallway.

“I told you!”

She shook her head slowly at you as if to say, No you didn’t!

You rolled your eyes and sighed. Chaewon and her early onset short-term memory loss. “The backpack thing? And agreeing to tutoring each other? I wrote to the group chat about this!”

“Oh, that! Of course I remember that,” she said, even though you knew she had forgotten about it and remembered it just now. “So, has that started already?”

You reached the classroom for your next class and sat down in your usual seats next to each other, waiting for the teacher to arrive. Busy hallways like these were the perfect place for gossip, because they were loud and nobody paid attention to others’ conversations. “Yeah, yesterday afternoon.”

Chaewon gasped. “And you didn’t tell us?!”

“Will you quiet down? I was going to see and tell you guys today anyway.”

“Okay, so, tell me about it.”

“But-”

“Tell. Me.”

You wouldn’t see Yena and Hyewon until lunch in two hours, and you knew Chaewon didn’t have the patience to wait until then. So you sighed again and obliged, telling her about your afternoon with Jake in every detail you could remember, because she would ask about insignificant things anyway.

To your surprise, the first thing she said when you were done talking was this: “Y/N, do you like Jake?”

Your mouth opened slightly in shock at the question, but before you could even retort, you started giggling. “No, I don’t,” you said in a way that sounded like you very much did.

“Oh my God! You so do!” Chaewon said, giggling along with you. “You whore, you’ve only talked to him, like, twice,” she joked.

You gasped fake-dramatically and slapped her arm. “Oh please, look at Hyewon and Jaemin, they started dating after a week of talking.”

“Yes, and they’ve been going one year strong, so clearly, you need to ask Jake out and get this over with. You’ll get a boyfriend and a math tutor all-in-one, it’s a perfect deal!”

“Don’t get too carried away, okay? Jake and I are friends. Like you said, we barely know each other right now.”

You meant this - sure, you had had a really good time with Jake both times you saw him, and you were looking forward to your next tutoring session, but you chalked it up to the excitement of making a new friend. Plus, barely last week you felt some sort of way towards his best friend - wouldn’t it be weird to practically transfer your feelings from Sunghoon to Jake?

“Whatever. Yena and Hyewon are gonna freak when I tell them,” Chaewon said excitedly.

You shook your head at your friend but couldn’t keep down the amused grin on your face. “You guys are insane.”

“Oh please, like you’re not the president of our Park Sunghoon fanclub. I can’t believe you’re leaving us for his best friend!”

“Hey, if anything, less competition for you, right?”

Chaewon opened her mouth to say something, but the teacher arrived, starting the lesson before having even put her bag down - Mrs Lee always arrived late but never wasted a second of class when she was in the room. Your friend resorted to sticking her tongue out at you instead, and you chuckled at her childishness as you opened your History notebook.

—

Jake was a complete, total, utter idiot. His plan had consisted of two things only, and he’d somehow managed to forget one of them, even after talking about it with you, albeit vaguely. It had taken him two weeks and one Park Sunghoon to even remember it.

Between Jake’s soccer practice, Sunghoon’s ice skating practice and Jay’s being away at boarding school, the three friends only had one night every week on which they were all free - Friday night. So, every Friday, they planned some sort of hang out at one of their houses and gamed or watched movies all night.

Kinda like date night, but for bros.

This was one of those bro nights; namely, the one in the second week of you and Jake tutoring each other. The boys had decided to go to the burger joint they like that night and were in the middle of a french fry fight when Sunghoon mentioned your and Jake’s new friendship.

“So, Jake… what’s up with you and Y/N?”

Jake halted in his motions, redirecting to his mouth the fry he was about to throw at Jay. “Nothing’s up with me and Y/N. What makes you say that?”

“Just, you know, you seem like you’ve become actual friends. Talking in the hallways and walking your dogs together and whatnot.”

“Y/N as in Y/N? Sunghoon’s Y/N?” Jay said, halfway through a bite of his cheeseburger.

“She’s not my Y/N-”

“Yes, Y/N as in Y/N, you idiot,” Jake cut in. “And like you said, we’re friends.”

“Is she the girl you posted some BeReals with?” Jay asked, and Jake nodded. “She’s pretty! No wonder Sunghoon likes her so much.”

Sunghoon sighed as he let his head hang low. “God forbid I find a girl cute, because I’ll mention it once, two years ago and you guys make me out to be in love with her.”

“Sunghoon, you act like girls don’t exist, so of course when you not only mention a girl, but describe her as cute, that means you’re in love with her!”

“But I’m not! We were literally having a whole conversation about girls, I happened to see Y/N and her friends from far away, I said she was cute, and now you guys won’t let me live it down. Jay, you weren’t even there!”

“Yeah, but the way Jake told me about the whole thing, it really sounded like you liked her.”

“Why would you trust Jake to relay something like this correctly?!”

Jay paused and tilted his head. “You have a point there.”

“Hey!”

“So you don’t, like… like her, or something?” Sunghoon asked, looking at his friend as he sipped on his Pepsi.

This made Jake stop. Did he like you? Wasn’t the fact that he was considering it sign enough? Surely, if there was nothing there, he would have answered no right away.

But there was no use thinking about it. You liked Sunghoon. And as much as he liked to deny it, Jake knew Sunghoon liked you, too. After two years, there was finally an opportunity for the two of you to get closer - Jake wasn’t about to get in the middle of that. If anything, he should help his friends out. Then, when you and Sunghoon eventually got married, Jake would have the honor of saying it was all thanks to him in his best man’s speech.

“No, I don’t. Don’t worry, Hoon, I’m not gonna steal your girl away from you.”

“Again, she’s not my girl-”

“Whatever you say. I’ll introduce you guys.”

Even if Sunghoon didn’t think he liked you yet, Jake knew it was just a matter of time - his friend just needed to spend a few hours with you to realize he did. You were pretty, smart, funny, nice, had the sweetest laugh he’d ever heard, got along with dogs, and even though you sometimes had weird opinions, it was always fun, talking to you. It was easy and comfortable. Anyone with taste would fall for you.

Anyone, except for Jake, of course.

—

For the past three weeks, you and Jake had gotten along perfectly, but today, on this bright Tuesday afternoon, you really wanted to strangle him.

When he’d invited you to come and watch him at soccer practice, you’d been surprised, but happy - usually, you invited people to watch an actual game, not just practice. But you were just glad for the opportunity to spend more time with him.

Without realizing it, you were giddy with excitement the whole day, counting down the minutes until classes were over and Jake’s practice started. Jake had told you to just head to the bleachers while the players got ready in the locker room, but when you reached said bleachers, someone was already sitting there, looking at something on their phone. You recognized him immediately as Sunghoon. He didn’t notice you right away, so you had time to wipe the surprise off of your face - you hadn’t thought anyone came to watch practice, but Sunghoon was probably here for Jake, just like you.

“Hey,” you said quietly as you sat down next to him. Even though you were technically still on school property, this was the first time you saw Sunghoon outside of somewhere like a classroom, a hallway or the cafeteria. You weren’t as nervous as you thought you’d be, seeing him unexpectedly like this.

You chuckled when Sunghoon started at your sudden arrival. “Oh, hey, Y/N,” he said, chuckling too, albeit somewhat awkwardly. “Sorry, didn’t hear you coming.”

“It’s fine,” you said with a smile as you sat down next to him on the bleachers. You didn’t know what sort of distance was appropriate between you two, if you should sit close or far, but you stopped yourself before you could overthink something as trivial as that. Neither of you said anything for a few seconds and you wished practice had started before you got here, so that you’d have something to look at other than an empty field.

You broke the silence before it became too uncomfortable. “So, do you come watch Jake often?”

You’d been fiddling with your hands as you spoke, only turning your head to look at Sunghoon as you awaited his answer. Your eyes didn’t even meet for a fraction of a second before he whipped his head to look at the field, as if unable to look at you and talk at the same time. At least he had a nice side profile for you to look at.

“Um, just on Tuesdays. I have ice skating practice after this, so I come here first, then he comes with me to the rink,” he replied. He glanced at you, lips pressed into a thin line that somewhat resembled a smile and that pushed dimples into his cheeks. You simply hummed in response.

“What about you, how come you’re here?”

“Jake asked me,” you replied. Sunghoon let out a long “oh” as he nodded, turning his head back towards the field again. You didn’t think you’d ever had such a slow conversation. It was like you and Sunghoon both repeated your words ten times over in your heads before saying them out loud.

“Are you coming to my practice, too?” he asked after another pause.

The question took you aback slightly as you hadn’t even considered it, but it could be fun, seeing Sunghoon practice ice skating. It’d also be fun to hang out with Jake. “If it’s fine with you, then yeah, why not,” you replied, smiling at Sunghoon. He glanced at you again before looking away with a smile, an actual one this time that showed his teeth and made his eyes crinkle.

“Yeah, sure. People usually only come to actual shows, so I like it when someone’s there to watch practice.” Before you could find something to say, the players arrived jogging onto the field, immediately starting their warm-up laps. Some were serious about it and stayed focused as they ran, while others goofed around, running backwards and slapping other players on their butts before sprinting away. Jake, of course, was part of the latter group.

Now that something was actually happening on the field, you and Sunghoon had an excuse not to make conversation anymore. You tried to ignore it, but it was so awkward you wanted to die. You realized now why you were so attracted to people like Jake and Chaewon - without even being aware of it, they brought you out of your shell and made you feel at ease. You wished you could do that on your own, but you were always too scared, so you needed that person who was confident enough showing themselves to you first to make you feel comfortable doing the same. You and Sunghoon, unfortunately, were too similar in that sense to do that for each other. So you just sat there in silence, observing Jake and waving back at him when he caught your gazes.

The ninety minutes of practice didn’t go by in total silence - you asked Sunghoon about some soccer rules you didn’t get, and he shared some anecdotes from his and Jake’s earlier teenage years, including a very entertaining story about a tantrum 9-year-old Jake had thrown when he hadn’t agreed with the red card the referee had given him. You weren’t sure how the topic came up, but at some point, you even shared pictures of your pets. Sunghoon had one of those small crusty white dogs, but you kept your laughter in and cooed over how cute she was.

But still, most of the time, you were watching Jake. You had never been interested in soccer or any sort of sport that involved balls until now. Somehow, he managed to make flushed cheeks, a heaving chest and hairline beaded with sweat look glorious. In total honesty, you were paying more attention to the player himself than to the sport, to the point that you barely noticed when he scored a goal during their practice match. It was only when Jake started cheering and high-fiving his teammates that you realized what had happened, and you gave him two thumbs up and a wide grin when he looked your and Sunghoon’s way, proudly shouting “Did you see that?!”

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks right there and then. The way your heart swelled as you watched his excited, puppyish grin take over his features was undeniable - you liked Jake. You like liked him. Your gaze continued to follow him as he finished his celebratory lap. If you could’ve seen yourself right then, you’d probably have been embarrassed by your awestruck expression and slightly agape mouth, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Much to your dismay, you realized that Chaewon had seen right through you. You hadn’t wanted to read too much into your feelings, but they had become too obvious to ignore. You hadn’t experienced them yourself since middle school (Choi Soobin had really been a heartbreaker back then), but you’d heard about the telltale signs of a crush too many times not to know about them. It was now clear that the way you felt about Jake and the way you had felt about Sunghoon were worlds apart. Feeling nervous around him and your heart skipping a beat when you made eye contact; wanting to see him smile; laughing at all his jokes, even the bad ones; missing him even though it’d been seconds since you said goodbye, and counting down the days until you saw him again. And, yes, looking at his pictures on social media over and over again. You did all those things, so you knew there was no point in lying to yourself anymore - you liked Jake Sim.

It didn’t help that he was always kind to you, never making you feel stupid for not understanding something in your tutoring sessions and being patient enough to explain the same thing over and over again. He always paid attention to small things, which never failed to make your heart race, like asking after your aging cat’s condition after you’d told him he had a health check-up over the weekend or stocking up on your favorite snack the week after you’d told him about it. He’d also immediately picked up on your habit of teasing the people you felt comfortable with and you loved how he returned it tenfold. It was as much fun debating with him over nothing and making him shut up with your senseless arguments as it was being rendered speechless when he came up with the perfect retort.

And of course, there was no denying that Jake was ridiculously attractive. There were times you got so caught up in the way his lips moved as he spoke or the way his fingers looked as he pointed at numbers on the page that your mind completely blanked out and you stopped listening to his words for a few seconds. You didn’t know what to make of his small chuckle and smirk when he noticed your gaze fixated on him, but you knew it wasn’t good for your heart. And let’s not even get started on the fact that sitting so close to him meant you could smell the lingering scent of his cologne every single time.

Even now, with flushed cheeks and hair slicked back with sweat, you want to run onto the field and give him a big smooch on his cheek, telling him you were proud of him for scoring that goal.

But even though you were getting closer and he had offered for you to come watch his practice, you squashed down as best as you could any hope that he might feel the same way about you. Even if he insisted he was bad with girls, Jake was popular at school, and you were sure there were many other girls who had a crush on him - so why would he like you of all people?

Sunghoon’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Every time he scores, he acts like it’s the first time he’s ever done it,” he said, chuckling and shaking his head at his friend’s over-dramatic antics. The coach was trying to get Jake to calm down so that the game could resume.

“He’s so cute,” you said, voice quiet, before you could stop yourself. But as soon as the words were out, you realized what you’d done, and your eyes doubled in size as you turned to look at Sunghoon. He had whipped his head to look at you, too, and his eyes were just as big as yours. Then, he burst into laughter, and you hoped the Earth would suddenly open beneath your feet and swallow you whole.

When his surprise had subsided, Sunghoon turned to you again, an incredulous but amused glint in his eyes. “Did you just call Jake cute?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, slightly frowning as you avoided Sunghoon’s gaze. “I just meant, you know, it’s cute how excited he got. I didn’t say he was cute,” you mumbled, knowing you were doing a poor job of defending yourself.

“That’s exactly what you said, though. You said, and I quote, He’s so cute.” You glared at Sunghoon. Who knew he would only become talkative once it came to teasing you about Jake?

His expression softened slightly when he realized you might actually be upset about this, and he turned his attention back towards the field, smile growing when he found his friend. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything.”

“There’s nothing to be said anyway.”

“Oh? So you don’t mind if I tell Jake that you have the biggest, fattest crush on- hmph!”

You’d cut Sunghoon off by pressing your palm to his mouth, mustering the most menacing look you could to scare him off. “I do not,” you said firmly as you moved your hand away from him.

“Sure, you don’t,” he replied, chuckling. Clearly, your most menacing look wasn’t so menacing.

“I get why Jake’s so annoying now, it’s because he’s friends with you.”

Sunghoon raised an amused eyebrow at this. “He might be annoying, but he’s also cute, right?”

“Shut up!” you shrieked immediately, but you couldn’t stop the grin forcing its way onto your lips.

“Just saying,” Sunghoon said, and you laughed together. Maybe you should’ve been more worried about Jake’s literal best friend finding out you had a crush on him, but you somehow trusted Sunghoon not to blabber about it. Whether because he was nice or because he wanted to watch you struggle with your feelings, you weren’t sure, but at least you felt your secret was safe with him.

You looked back at the field, and just as your eyes found Jake, you saw him turn his head away. Had you seen him just seconds prior, you might have noticed the crease in his eyebrows as he watched you and Sunghoon laugh together. Sunghoon isn’t that funny, he thought, what could you be laughing so hard about?

He didn’t understand the sudden weight in his heart at the sight of you and his friend getting along so well. This was his whole plan after all - force some proximity between you and Sunghoon so that you could talk and hopefully make your feelings clear to each other after some time. Clearly, it was working. So why was it bothering him so much?

He had to turn his attention back to the game, so he could only ruminate over it for five seconds, but for the remaining thirty minutes, he could barely focus on anything. Whenever he glanced back at you and Sunghoon, you were both looking at him and not talking to each other, and that somehow bothered him even more.

He used his time in the lockers to get out of the weird mood he was in - whatever was going on between you and Sunghoon, he didn’t want to ruin it by being grumpy. So when he came back out and found the two of you waiting for him at the bus stop, he put on his best smile.

Having you around made his usual Tuesday afternoon with Sunghoon more fun - after years of friendship, Sunghoon ignored most of his jokes and could tune the sound of his voice out, but you still laughed at everything he said, and his heart swelled with pride every time he made you laugh.

It was only a ten-minute bus ride from the school to the ice rink so you still had twenty minutes to spare before Sunghoon’s lesson started. As always after soccer practice, Jake was famished, so you stopped by a convenience store and got more snacks than you really needed.

You sat next to Sunghoon and across from Jake at a picnic table in front of the ice rink, watching the boy in front of you with fascination as he gorged himself on banana milk and chocolate snacks.

“God, how long has it been since you last ate?” you asked with genuine concern in your voice. Sunghoon followed your gaze towards Jake, only then noticing his friend’s feral behavior as if this was a normal occurrence for them.

“Like three hours,” Jake answered. “I’m starving. So hungry I could eat Sunghoon.”

When he looked up, you were both peering at him with furrowed eyebrows and bewildered expressions on your faces. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Do you mean that Sunghoon is a horse?” you asked.

Jake mirrored your confused expressions. “What? No, why would I say that?”

“The saying goes, so hungry I could eat a horse, dumbass,” Sunghoon chimed in.

“Why would I eat a horse?” Jake replied, shaking his head and chuckling at you and Sunghoon like you were the ones who had gotten a basic idiom wrong.

“Why would you eat me?” Sunghoon bit back, sounding almost offended.

“It’s just a saying, dude.”

Half-an-hour and two whole packets of biscuits later, you and Jake sat side-by-side on the benches, watching Sunghoon as he did his warm-ups on the ice. This was your first time seeing a professional ice skater and you were transfixed, to say the least. He was just skating across the rink and rolling his arms and neck to get the muscles moving, but it all seemed so effortless and elegant that you couldn’t help but watch with your mouth slightly open, eyes eager to keep up with Sunghoon’s figure.

You were so mesmerized that you had no idea Jake was practically burning holes into the side of your face. Eyes narrowed and nose scrunched in disgust, he couldn’t believe you were enjoying the show in front of you that much. “He’s not even doing anything special right now, you know,” he said, but it only made him realize that when Sunghoon did start doing cool stuff, you’d like it even more.

Your head barely budged in Jake’s direction as you answered him, and your eyes certainly didn’t leave Sunghoon. “Really? It already looks so cool, though.” Jake scoffed, but that still didn’t get your attention, which made him scoff again. He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned like a child whose parent wasn’t paying attention to their drawing.

“Cooler than me?”

Finally, you look at me, Jake thought, and his frown immediately dissipated into a grin when your eyes met. But judging by the teasing way your lips curled up, he already knew he wasn’t going to like your answer.

“Cooler than you,” you replied before turning your attention back to the rink.

Jake leans back with a pout, opting to glare at his friend instead of you. He tried to put himself in your shoes and figure out what it was about Sunghoon you liked so much that Jake didn’t also have. Devastatingly good looks? Check. Charming smile? Check. Cute dog? Check - Jake more so than Sunghoon. Brains? Okay, both of them lacked this. Good personality? Check - however, you needed months before Sunghoon revealed himself to you, whereas Jake was outgoing and was comfortable even with people he’d just met.

So why was the bearer of your affection Sunghoon and not Jake?

And why did Jake even care that you liked his friend over him in the first place?

It wasn’t like Jake liked you - he couldn’t like a girl that his best friend liked - so why did this at all matter to him? If anything, the fact that you liked Sunghoon back should’ve been something to rejoice over. It had been, up until now, and Jake couldn’t figure out why. He couldn’t figure out this weird sensation that had plagued him in the soccer field and followed him to the ice rink as he watched you watch Sunghoon with amazement.

Jake was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even notice when you detached your eyes from Sunghoon, who was talking to his coach, and tilted your head at him. “Jake?”

The boy only let out a low hum, still too upset to look at you.

An amused grin made your lips quirk up. “Are you pouting because I said Sunghoon was cooler than you?”

Jake scoffed, turning his head away from you. “No.”

A pause. “So you don’t mind if I go on and on about how elegant and beautiful ice skating is, while running after a ball and kicking it is the basis of the stupidest sport in the world?”

Jake glared at you, but it only made you smile more. “It’s not stupid.”

Despite himself, his pretend angry facade broke apart at the sound of your airy giggles. Jake didn’t think his ears had ever been graced with such a pretty sound before - he slapped himself mentally as soon as that thought crossed his mind.

His heart did jumps and spins more impressive than Sunghoon’s when you reached a hand out to ruffle his hair, shaking your head at his behavior. For once, he was glad that you turned back to Sunghoon so that you wouldn’t see the bright blush spreading all over his face.

For the next hour, Jake put his weird feelings to the side and watched his friend practice his routine for his upcoming competition. Even he had to admit that Sunghoon looked pretty cool doing what he loved.

You told him you found it all the more impressive because you’d never skated before, so it looked unachievable to you, and an idea immediately formed in Jake’s mind. As soon as Sunghoon’s practice was over, he rushed over to his friend and asked if the two of you could join him on the ice. Sunghoon turned to his coach, who simply shrugged.

“I trust you to look after them,” she said. “Just make sure to be out when the hockey team gets here.”

Before you knew it, Jake was helping you tie up your ice skates (the sight of which made you faint-hearted) and both boys helped you onto the ice rink, each holding onto one of your hands as you tried not to freak out at the feeling of your knees being so wobbly. Sunghoon demonstrated how to move around the ice, and soon enough, you’d gotten the hang of it - but you still made sure to keep Jake at an arm’s length so you could grab onto him every time you lost your balance. Jake stayed by your side, smiling fondly at how excited you looked and cheering you on every time you took a step of your own. Sunghoon, on the other hand, seemed to find it funny to watch from afar and point and laugh every time you stumbled.

After some time, Sunghoon announced he was feeling hungry and decided to go eat some snacks, leaving you and Jake alone in the rink. The wink Sunghoon threw your way when Jake wasn’t looking let you know what his true intentions were, and you couldn’t believe Jake’s best friend had just become your wingman.

“Feeling ready to skate around the rink?” Jake asked. His boyish grin was contagious, and you found yourself matching it even though you were still nervous about moving around too much.

“If you help me,” you answered tentatively, looking at him worriedly as you held out your hand for him to take. The softness of his gaze as he smiled down at you made you want to melt into a puddle on the floor.

“Of course,” he said, taking your hand in his warm one. Your fingers intertwined as if out of second nature and you thought you finally understood why people said their hands were meant to hold someone else’s.

Being friends with an ice skater for such a long time meant Jake had acquired some skill, too, which is why he could so easily show you how to turn or pick up speed. Whenever you lost your balance, he was always quick enough to make sure you didn’t actually fall, picking you up before your backside could touch the ice. He found your frightened expression every time you thought you would fall absolutely adorable, but your pout and slight frown whenever he teased you were somehow even cuter.

He only let go of your hand after some ten minutes (neither of you had even begun to question Sunghoon’s whereabouts by then) when he came to stand in front of you, a serious expression on his face.

“I think you’re ready, Y/N,” he declared solemnly.

“Ready for…?” you asked, scared of whatever he had in mind.

He leaned in slightly and the sudden proximity took you aback, but he didn’t seem to realize. A mischievous smirk broke through his handsome features. “A race,” he whispered, then skated to one edge of the rink and motioned for you to follow him. Reluctantly, you did.

“First to the other edge has to…” he thought for a second, gazing at the ceiling. You wanted to be mad at him for proposing a race when you’d literally just learned how to skate, but how could you when he looked so cute and giddy, searching for the loser’s penalty? “Buy the other ice cream!”

Your eyes were probably the image of tenderness as you looked at him. “Deal,” you said, wanting to sound as playful as him but voice coming out soft. Since when had you fallen so hard for him?

You held each other’s gazes for a couple more seconds before both turning in front of you, getting ready for your race. Jake counted down from three, and your skating wasn’t so bad at first - until you got too cocky for your own good, trying to go at a pace you clearly couldn’t handle. Before you knew it, your knees betrayed you and you found yourself tripping over, your butt making a loud thump sound as it came into contact with the ice.

On your way down, you’d shrieked Jake’s name, and he was at your side in the blink of an eye, holding your shoulder and looking at you worriedly. The pain was immediate, and for a few seconds, you couldn’t answer him and reassure him that you were fine.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked to race, God Y/N I’m so stupid I’m so sorry are you okay I didn’t want you to get hurt-”

“Jake,” you squeaked.

“Yeah?”

“I’m okay, calm down,” you said when the pain subsided, managing a smile. “I’ll just have a sore butt tomorrow.” He chuckled at the word ‘butt,’ but you didn’t have it in you to roll his eyes at his childishness.

“Are you sure you’re okay? There’s an infirmary here-”

“I’m sure, Jakey-poo,” you teased, making him lose the concerned expression as he bore an unimpressed one instead.

“I guess you are fine if you can think to call me that. Come on, up!” he said as he stood up, reaching his hands out for you to take. Just as he helped you up, Sunghoon came sprinting and stood at the entrance to the rink.

“Is everything okay? I heard a yell,” he said, slightly out-of-breath with half a biscuit in his mouth. Guess he really was eating this whole time.

You and Jake laughed and shook your head at him, and you reassured him that everything was fine.

“Good, ‘cause the hockey team’s here and we have to go anyway.”

There was a bus that took Sunghoon directly from the ice rink to his house, but you and Jake had to go back to the school to catch the one you usually took, which meant you had a forty-minute journey in front of you. And yet, Jake’s company made those forty minutes feel like five, and you found yourself disappointed when the bus neared your stop.

“If you want, we can still go walk Kiwi and Layla,” he offered shyly a few minutes before your stop, as if he’d read your mind.

“I’d love to.” You watched as his small smile bloomed into a wider one.

“I’m glad,” he chuckled, relieved. “I was scared you’d be tired of me after spending the whole afternoon together,” he admitted, looking down at his lap with a bashful expression on his face. It wasn’t often that Jake looked timid like this, but whenever he did, your heart tripled in size.

“I don’t think I could get tired of you.” You were too shy to look him in the eye while you said this, but in your peripheral, you saw his grin get impossibly wider and his eyebrows raise. He bumped your shoulder with his, making the both of you burst into giggles.

You were still smiling long after you’d come home from your walk.

—

Unfortunately for Jake, forcing you and Sunghoon to sit together for ninety minutes hadn’t resulted in the two of you confessing your undying love for the other and getting together - clearly, his plan hadn’t worked very well. But Jake, instead of coming up with another strategy, decided he should just basically do the same thing again and hope it went better this time.

Bro night had been a tradition for the past three years that the boys only very rarely broke, in cases of illness, filial obligations or important competitions the following day. This wasn’t any one of those cases, but Jake decided bro night must be slightly sacrificed that night - for your and Sunghoon’s sake. Years down the line, he knew you’d thank him.

This was why he tricked you into thinking you had been invited to bro night (you’d heard a lot about it and considered it an honor to be included) when really, he made Jay promise not to show at the cinema so that you and Sunghoon could be alone. The two of them would make up an excuse about not being able to make it on time and show up later at the diner (“If you want to set them up, shouldn’t we also leave them alone after the movie?” Jay had asked Jake over the phone, and Jake had been unable to explain why he didn’t want you to spend the whole night alone with Sunghoon).

“They ditched us,” Sunghoon had said in lieu of a greeting when you found him at the entrance of the cinema. He turned his phone screen towards you, showing you their group chat - Jay had had some sort of meeting at his school that had run late and Jake had to go to the vet suddenly because Layla kept making weird noises.

“Oh no, I hope she’ll be okay,” you said, voice laced with genuine worry.

Sunghoon just sighed. “I’m sure she will.” He knew what his friends were up to - it almost never happened that one of them was unable to make it to bro night, so two at once? They were clearly lying. He would make sure to tell Jake how worried sick you were about his dog’s fake illness later on just so his friend would feel extra guilty.

You had been looking forward to hanging out with Jake and his friends all day, so you were disappointed to know he wouldn’t make it until later. It wasn’t much comfort that the movie they had picked, some recent Marvel release, was one you were not at all interested in, and you couldn’t even obsess over Jake’s presence next to you instead of the movie because he wasn’t there. You’d have to sit with awkward, quiet Sunghoon for God knows how long - at least the cinema wasn’t much of a talking place.

You declined his kind offer of sharing a big popcorn tub - you didn’t want to risk a cliché reaching-for-popcorn-at-the-same-time moment with Sunghoon, although you’d daydreamed and giggled about it happening with Jake earlier that day. Instead, you sipped grumpily on your Cherry Coke, watching the trailers for upcoming movies and discussing them with Sunghoon. (“I’m so excited for the Barbie movie,” he’d surprised you by saying. Maybe he wasn’t so bad.)

As the lights dimmed, announcing the imminent start of the movie, Sunghoon whispered something that completely changed your mind about Marvel. “It’s so stupid that Jake isn’t here, seriously. He’s been going on and on about going to see this movie since the trailer came out.” Suddenly, you’d never felt the need to pay attention to something more than this.

Well, in your humble opinion, the film wasn’t anything to write home about. It was a lot of loud action scenes with some funny one-liners that, okay, you chuckled at. And the actors were hot. You could sort of see why Jake would enjoy Marvel movies, although you yourself liked films with more social commentary, such as Mean Girls or Bee Movie. You’d need to make Jake watch Twilight one of these days - you were sure he’d like the soundtrack, if nothing else.

At least, you and Sunghoon have something to talk about during your short walk to the diner. As you enter the restaurant, a familiar voice calling out your name catches you off-guard.

“Chaewon? I thought you didn’t work on Friday nights!” you exclaimed, letting your friend bring you into a hug. You gave her a once-over - she always looked so pretty in her work uniform, white t-shirt dress draping her body perfectly, apron cinching at her waist, and short pigtails under her 50’s style diner hat. If the blush spreading on Sunghoon’s cheeks at her sudden appearance was anything to go by, his thoughts might not have been too far from yours.

She pouted, taking your hands in hers and swaying them between the two of you. “I usually don’t, but Yunjin asked me to trade shifts and she always says yes when I ask her, so I felt bad saying no.” You nodded and she turned to Sunghoon.

“Hi, Sunghoon!”

“H-hi, Chaewon.”

“Where’s Jay and Jake?” she asked, looking behind the two of you. You’d told the group chat about your evening plans and a lot of freaking out had taken place.

“Should be here any minute,” you sighed, and when she looked at you questioningly, you told her you’d explain later.

She sat you at a four-person booth by the window and brought you drinks (“On the house,” she’d said with a wink, but you weren’t sure this had been allowed by any of her superiors) for you to sip on while you waited for the others. Every time she was free, she came over to your table and gossiped about the customers. You did not miss the way Sunghoon’s face lit up whenever she approached you.

Jake and Jay see you before you see them. Jay, the only one with a driver’s license out of the three, had picked Jake up, and he was parking his car when Jake gasped loudly, making Jay jump. “I’m trying to park, man, can you be calm?”

“What’s she doing here?” Jake exclaimed, completely ignoring his friend.

Jay followed Jake’s gaze, but he wasn’t sure what his friend was going on about. All he saw was you, whom he recognized from pictures only, Sunghoon, and a waitress that seemed overly-friendly. “Who?” he asked.

“Chaewon,” Jake hissed, like her name was a curse. “She’s ruining our plan!”

Jay sighed. “First of all, this is your plan. Second of all, it was ruined from the beginning. And by that, I mean that your plan sucks, Jake.”

Jake clicked his teeth. “Whatever. Let’s just go,” he said, getting out of the car and heading straight for you. He made sure to give Chaewon a pointed look as he sat next to you in the booth, but she just seemed happy that more people had arrived.

You bumped your knee into his to get his attention. “Hi,” you said with a smile.

He looked at you dumbly for a few seconds before Jay cleared his throat awkwardly. “Hi. This is Jay,” he said, tilting his head towards the boy but not taking his eyes off of you. You and Jay exchanged hey’s before Chaewon took your order, quickly giving it to the kitchen and scanning the room to make sure every table had what they needed, then headed back to your table.

“Is Layla okay?” you asked Jake, worry making your brows furrow.

“Huh?” The sudden mention of his dog took him aback. Why wouldn’t she be okay?

“Layla?” you repeated, tilting your head. “Is she okay? You said you had to go to the vet.”

His eyes widened as he remembered his lie from earlier, and he started nodding frantically. “Oh yeah, yeah, she’s fine, we panicked over nothing,” he said with a nervous giggle. Jake was the worst liar Jay and Sunghoon had ever seen, but you were none the wiser.

“What about you, Jay? How was your school thing?” Sunghoon asked, turning to his friend with a glare and making him choke on his Coke.

“Oh, that was fine too, I guess,” Jay mumbled.

As expected, Jake and Chaewon were experts at leading the conversation, and Jay himself was pretty talkative. They all bounced off of each other naturally, and even Sunghoon knew how to throw in witty remarks now and there. You also participated, but you were more than happy just listening to them and laughing along. You tried not to think too much about how your knee would bump into Jake’s once in a while, or how he seemed to look at you every time he made a joke.

At some point, Chaewon had rushed over to your table, looking right at you with wide eyes and beaming. “Oh my God Oh my God Oh my God, Y/N, hat guy is here!”

You instantly mirrored her expression. “Where where where?” you asked, lifting your body up to scan around the restaurant.

“Over there in the corner, but be discreet!”

You were not at all discreet as your eyes found said hat guy, noting with satisfaction that he was characteristically hatless, and you burst into laughter. “I can’t believe he’s here!”

“Right? Probably has the munchies or something,” Chaewon said, laughing along.

You only noticed then the perplexed looks all three boys were sending your way. “Who the heck is hat guy?” Jake asked, which only made you and Chaewon laugh harder.

“You wouldn’t get it,” she replied airily, waving Jake off as she made her way to a customer who had called for her.

The boys turned to you and you shrunk in your seat at their attention. “Just a guy the girls and I find funny,” you explained, shrugging and glancing quickly at Sunghoon. If only he knew about all the times you and the girls had gossiped about him, even though he’d done nothing of importance.

When her shift was over, the first thing Chaewon did was take off her apron, then dragged you to the bathroom, where she drilled you for details about your cinema “date” with Sunghoon.

“It was not a date, it just ended up being the two of us because the others couldn’t make it,” you insisted, but she wasn’t having it. “There’s nothing to say anyway. We got there, talked a bit, watched the movie, walked here, and that’s it.”

Chaewon sighed, shaking her head as she reapplied her lip gloss. A small smile made its way onto your lips. “I think he’s into someone else anyway.”

You noticed how her hand faltered for a split second. “Oh yeah? Who?” she asked, trying to appear nonchalant, but you knew your friend too well.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Unbeknownst to either of you, the discussion between the boys back at the table was not too different from yours.

“Bro, I’m literally going to kill you,” Sunghoon whisper-yelled even though you were way out of earshot already. “Do you know how awkward that was?”

“Just so you know, I had nothing to do with this,” Jay said. “I told him that putting two socially constipated idiots like you wouldn’t end well, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“Y/N’s not an idiot!” Jake immediately reacted.

“And I am?!” Sunghoon retorted.

Jay just rolled his eyes.

“You are, because this is the second time you’re alone together with the girl you like and you can barely make conversation with her.”

“For the last time, I don’t like her, I just called her cute once in freshman year-”

“Same thing!”

“Jake, I don’t know how many times I can tell you the same thing before you get it. I’ve been around Y/N enough to know I don’t like her like that, okay? We’ve had two classes where we sat together for a whole semester, and we’ve worked with other people in group projects. Not to mention, you’ve made me sit through one of your practices with her. She’s nice. She sends me the homework when I miss class. She even laughs at my jokes sometimes. And her dog is super cute. I’m sure we’d be better friends if we both didn’t have crippling shyness, but I don’t like her like that. I just don’t.”

“But how?!”

“What do you mean how? This sorta thing doesn’t have any sort of reasonable answer, you just do or you don’t. I don’t. Clearly, you do.”

Jake heard the last part of Sunghoon’s words, and promptly decided to ignore them. He had to understand this first - he’d figure out his feelings later. “This whole time, I thought you were just downplaying your feelings, ‘cause you’re an awkward asshole who doesn’t do emotions,” he said, eyes tightly shut and holding his head, the confusion making his brain hurt.

“Okay, ouch. But no, I wasn’t. I really don’t know what got into your head.”

“I know what got into his head,” Jay said. Both of his friends looked at him questioningly, so he went on. “When Sunghoon mentioned Y/N, you probably thought she was super cute too, Jake. But because of bro code and whatnot, you didn’t wanna show any interest. And then as you saw her around more, you probably liked her more, but you thought Sunghoon liked her, so you sort of gave him your crush on her instead of dealing with it. You lived vicariously through him, basically. Except you’re an idiot because he doesn’t even like her like that, so you could’ve shot your shot a long time ago already. I don’t know why you didn’t just listen to him, to be honest,” Jay finished, shrugging.

“You also thought he liked her!” Jake retorted.

“That’s besides the point. The point is that you’re stupid.”

“But- but, what about all those times you talked about her? I didn’t make those up!”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “The most I ever said about her was something like, Y/N and I both forgot our textbook today, or Y/N brought cookies for the class because it’s her birthday. You were always the one to notice her everywhere and go, There’s your crush, or something.”

Jake sighed, defeated. He could admit Sunghoon was right about something, and he was wrong - but he hated that Jay was also right. Had he really managed to bury his feelings for you all these years just for what he thought was Sunghoon’s sake? Sure, he was a loyal friend, but that felt a little much.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, recoiling from his friends’ expectant gazes and taking a sad bite of his cheeseburger. “It’s not like she likes me back, or anything.”

He watched in confusion as Sunghoon let out a loud groan, screwing his eyes shut and taking his head in his hands as if it hurt. “This is so frustrating, I’m going to kill myself.”

Jake turned to Jay for some sort of explanation to their friend’s sudden suicidal thoughts, but Jay just looked back at Jake with disgust. “When did you become so dumb? I swear you didn’t use to be like this,” he said, shaking his head in disappointment.

Jake’s eyes flickered between his two friends in utter dismay. “What?”

“Jake,” Jay started. “Do you really, honestly, genuinely think Y/N doesn’t like you?”

The boy leaned back in his seat with a pout. “Yeah,” he mumbled.

Sunghoon’s head whipped up at this. Jake gulped at the intense glare his friend fixed him with - he’d never looked so angry with him, and it made Jake wonder what on Earth he could have said or done that made Sunghoon so upset. “Why?” he asked simply, but the frustration was evident in his voice.

Your diary popped up in Jake’s head. What he had read was clear. Of course, the entry dated from over a month ago now, but why would your feelings have changed since then? Jake sighs deeply, getting ready to reveal to his friends what he’d seen, but then he sees you and Chaewon emerging from the bathroom. “They’re coming back,” he mumbled.

It was Sunghoon and Jay’s turn to sigh. “Just pay attention to her, Jake, okay?” Jay instructed, giving his friend an intent look.

“I already do,” Jake replied, frowning.

“No, really pay attention to her. Then use your pea-sized brain for once in your life, and maybe you’ll realize something.”

A strongly-worded reply was on the tip of Jake’s tongue, but all thoughts of violence and murdering his friend were replaced by images of rainbows and pretty flowers when you smiled at him. He felt like the biggest of idiots for liking you so much and only realizing it now.

“Hi,” he said dumbly as you found your seat next to him again, then stole a french fry from you even though he had many left himself. When you gasped at his audacity, he just giggled.

“Hey!” you exclaimed in protest before stealing a fry back.

If you hadn’t been so caught up in your little world, you’d have noticed the knowing look your three friends exchanged and their simultaneous eye roll.

—

The following Monday, you decided to have your tutoring session at your house instead of Jake’s. His mom was away at a convention for the week, so you’d have to take the bus anyway - since your house was two stops earlier, you offered to switch it up for once. Jake had never actually been inside your house and was curious to see what it was like, so he eagerly agreed.

Kiwi was happy to see him and followed the two of you around the house as you gave Jake a quick tour before going up to your room. When you reached the top landing, you realized that Kiwi was still at the bottom of the stairs and was looking up at you expectantly. “Is she not allowed upstairs?” Jake asked.

“Usually not, but I let her come up when my mom’s not here. Come on Kiwi! It’s okay!”

Kiwi didn’t need to be told twice - she trudged her little body up the stairs, and you couldn’t help but giggle at her adorableness. “She’s so cute,” you cooed, looking at your dog with a huge smile on your face.

“She really is,” Jake agreed, but when you turned your head to face him, he wasn’t looking at Kiwi - he was looking straight at you, a softness in his eyes that made your stomach turn. He snapped out of it when he noticed your round, surprised eyes, and cleared his throat. “So, where’s your room?” he asked, looking around the hallway and avoiding your gaze.

“Over there,” you replied, fighting the smile that tried to make its way to your lips as you headed towards your room, Jake and Kiwi following right behind.

You told Jake to wait for a second as you went to get a second chair. When you came back, he was standing in front of your shelves, upper body slightly bent forwards to observe all the decorations and framed pictures closer. You placed the chair next to your desk then joined him, answering all the questions he had about the items on your shelves. Who’s this? When was this? Where did you get this? In his defense, you really did have a lot of things - you were trying to get rid of your hoarding habits, but you got attached to every small thing that held some sort of significance. You went to sit at the edge of your bed and just watched him, his eyes glinting with curiosity.

It reminded you of the first time you’d been to his house, how upset he’d seemed when you talked about his baby pictures and how you hadn’t wanted to risk looking at all the stuff in his room. You were also curious about things like that, and you wondered once again what had bothered him so much. The question was burning your tongue - although you were nervous to ask it, not wanting to upset Jake once more, you now knew him well enough to know he wasn’t the type to stay mad for long.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Jake replied, fingers toying with your favorite Littlest Pet Shop figurine you had kept from when you were eight.

“Why didn’t you want me to look at your baby photos that one time?”

Jake paused at your words. He stood up straight and set the figurine back on the shelf. He glanced at you before walking over to your bed and taking a seat next to you, leaning back on his palms while you rested your hands underneath your thighs.

“You probably noticed I don’t mention my dad, right? Or the fact that he’s never home?”

You nodded in response. You had noticed it, but you’d never brought the topic up in case it might be sensitive. Jake sighed. “He passed away when I was six.”

You turned your head towards him. To your surprise, his face remained expressionless - you couldn’t detect any sort of sadness or anger in his features, as if he was just reciting a fact. His uncharacteristic numbness upset you even more than any tears could have.

He met your gaze and gave you a small smile. “I was so young that I only have very vague memories of him, like playing soccer together in the backyard or a trip to the beach with my parents and my brother. I only remember his face and his voice from the photos and videos my mom has shown me.” He sighed again, shifting forwards and resting his hands in his lap, fiddling with his fingers. “So when I see these pictures, they sort of just remind me of what I’ve lost? I really don’t like lingering on them. I sort of just ignore them every time I walk up or down the stairs.”

“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have mentioned them if I’d known-”

Jake is quick to shake his head. “No, no, don’t be sorry. You couldn’t have guessed.” You want to comfort Jake in some way, thank him for telling you something so personal, but you’re not sure what words to use - so, instead, you take one of his hands in yours and bring it to your lap, then cover it with your other one. Your eyes meet for a second - he looks slightly taken aback at first, but then, his eyes drift down to your joined hands, and a small blush spreads on his cheeks.

“I’m- I’m okay, really. Like I said, it happened so long ago that I’m used to not having a dad now. It almost feels like it’s always been that way, which makes it even weirder to think it wasn’t. It’s just… It feels weird to miss someone I barely remember so much, you know?”

You nodded and let out a low hum. “I do know.” Jake tilted his head at you, silently asking you to go on. “It’s different, but I get that feeling of missing something you barely remember. I have these blurry memories of my parents being happy together and the three of us being a happy family, and then all of a sudden it’s hearing arguments from my room and my dad moving out, and they’re asking me, Do you wanna live with mom or dad?”

You watched as Jake moved his hand slightly, intertwining your fingers together and squeezing your hand. “I was older than you were when they divorced, so I guess I have more memories to hold onto, but they hurt more than anything.” You let out a deep sigh. “My dad cheated, so it’s not like I wished my mom had stayed with him, but I was too young to understand what was happening. I just wanted my parents together again.”

When you lifted your head to look at him, he met your gaze, and his eyes were so soft yet so intense, like he was seeing right into you. Then he chuckled. “Do you ever get jealous of other people’s parents?” he asks, a shy smile playing on his lips.

“All the time,” you admitted with a chuckle, relieved to find out you weren’t the only one. “Yena has been blessed with these like, practically perfect parents that are still in love after twenty years, never argue and have a healthy relationship with all of their kids. I’m so in awe every time I see them.”

“Sunghoon’s parents are like that. I feel terrible, but every time they come to cheer him on at his competitions, I just get so jealous, wishing I also had three people coming to see my games and not just two. And I always feel so silly for feeling that way.”

“You’re not silly for that, Jake,” you said, and the honesty in your voice seemed to take him aback slightly. A grin spread on your lips. “You may be silly for other things, but not for that,” you teased, making him chuckle. “I can be your third person, if you want,” you said softly, lightly bumping your shoulder against his.

His eyes seemed to light up at your words, and your smile couldn’t help but get wider at his reaction - that was, until he raised an eyebrow, almost defiantly. “Yeah? I thought you found soccer boring,” he said with a playful smirk.

“It’s not boring if you’re the one playing,” you replied. A small noise of surprise escaped his throat before he could help it, not expecting you to be so forward, and you both burst into giggles.

He cleared his throat when you both calmed down and stood up straighter, trying to put on a cool front. “Of course it isn’t.” He turned his head to look out the window, and the sight of the sunlight perfectly hitting his features and turning his dark brown eyes a hazel color almost took your breath away. “It’s really nice out,” he suddenly said. He turned back to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “How about we ditch the tutoring for today and go out?”

His eyes drifted down to your lips, watching as a smile tugged at the corners of your own. “I’m in.”

That was how you found yourselves sitting at a bench in the park close to your house, eating ice cream and watching Kiwi and Layla play together. You tried each other’s ice cream, and you regretted your choice of simple vanilla and strawberry as soon as Jake’s mango ice cream touched your tongue. Your eyes widened at the amazing taste - it felt like you had bit into an actual mango.

“Good, right?” Jake asked, chuckling at your reaction.

“What the heck, yours is so much better than mine,” you mumbled, pouting at the ice cream in your cup like it had personally hurt you.

Jake thought for a second, looking back and forth between your upset expression and his own cup. “Wanna switch?”

Your heart was screaming yes, but your brain was screaming no. You tried your best to appear genuine when you smiled at him. “No, don’t worry about it. I still like mine.” You looked at him as you scooped another spoonful into your mouth as if to prove to him you were happy with your choice, even going so far as to hum in delight.

Jake just chuckled and shook his head at you, taking your cup and giving you his anyway. You were about to protest until he started eating your ice cream, imitating your previous hum. You quietly accepted the exchange, smiling as you tasted the mango ice cream again and trying to ignore the fact that Jake hadn’t switched the spoons with the cups, so you were using his and he was using yours.

As you ate in silence, occasionally chuckling at your dogs’ antics, Jake stole some glances at you. He wasn’t sure why you looked so much prettier today than all the times he’d seen you before. Or maybe you were just as pretty as you’d always been, and he was just finally letting himself admit it.

He may have had many friends, but there weren’t many people Jake was truly himself around. He always felt the need to be this friendly, outgoing guy that made it seem like everything was going well in his life, but with you, he felt like it was okay to stop pretending. He felt like it was okay to ask for help, like it was okay to reveal the darker parts of his life.

Now that Jay and Sunghoon had practically forced him to see the truth, Jake didn’t know what to do about his feelings for you. He finally understood why he always looked forward to your tutoring sessions, why he was so excited whenever he walked past you in the hallways, and why he was so bothered about you and Sunghoon getting along.

Sunghoon. Because even if Jake now knew that he liked you, he also knew that you liked someone else. And what was the point of letting himself fall for you even more when there was no happy ending in sight for him? He’d only get hurt in the end.

Just as the thought hit him, you turned to look at him and meet his gaze, a soft smile on your lips. Every time you smiled at him like that, Jake felt like he was watching a movie. Everything happened in slow-motion, with flowers falling around you and violins playing in the background. Jake almost felt sick, knowing he was only the second lead in your romance movie. He was the stupid werewolf and Sunghoon was the vampire that glistened in the sun and got the girl. (You had convinced him to watch Twilight, saying it was a mandatory watch to understand who you were as a person. Of course, Jake had streamed it that same night. The soundtrack was surprisingly good.)

Your voice snapped him out of his downward-spiraling thoughts. “You know, I almost got scared that Sunghoon would appear out of thin air and start hanging out with us.”

Jake tried not to sneer at the mention of his best-friend-turned-number-one-nemesis. “Why? Wouldn’t you like that?” he mumbled, clearly doing a poor job of seeming unaffected.

You frowned, then lowered your head, focusing your gaze on your almost-finished ice cream. “No, I’d rather if it was just the two of us.” Jake’s eyes widened, unsure if he’d heard that correctly or not. But before he could say anything in response, you spoke again. “It’s just, he was there when I came to watch your practice and when I thought we were all going to see a movie together, it was just him and me. You would’ve liked that movie, by the way,” you said, looking up at Jake with a smile.

Jake’s heart swelled. He wasn’t sure what what you were saying all meant, but unconsciously, his lips mirrored yours and he smiled back at you. Until he remembered you didn’t like him, and his smile fell immediately. Obviously, you had no idea what he was thinking, so his sudden stony expression sent alarms ringing through your head.

“It’s not that I don’t like him, or anything,” you said, panicked, and Jake had to keep himself from scoffing, “it’s just that- you know. It’s nice to hang out with you outside of tutoring sessions,” you finished, mumbling.

Jake had no idea what you were saying, so he stayed quiet, watching as Kiwi and Layla ran around in circles. You liked Sunghoon, so why would you rather hang out with Jake and not him? You weren’t making any sense.

You, on the other hand, were not liking Jake’s uncharacteristic silence. In hopes of getting his attention, you crossed one leg over the other, shifting on the bench to face him. “Plus, don’t you think he and Chaewon really hit it off the other night? I think that was the most I’ve ever heard him talk,” you said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. To your dismay, it didn’t work. You didn’t know whether he was sulking or genuinely upset - all you knew was you desperately wanted to see a smile on his pretty face again.

“Jakey?” you called out, and your voice sounded so small it hurt his heart. He hummed in response, only glancing at you for a fraction of a second. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” he replied, scooping the last of the ice cream in his mouth. As he tasted the strawberry and vanilla flavors, he couldn’t believe he had given his precious mango ice cream up all for a girl who didn’t even like him back. What a fool.

“I don’t know, you’re all- weird, all of a sudden, for lack of a better word.” You searched for some sort of an answer in his eyes, but he supplied you with none.

Jake sighed deeply. He could feel the ugly mix of emotions in his belly turning into anger - anger at what exactly, he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to lay it on you. “It’s just the heat, it’s making me tired,” he said. Sure, it was warm for a May afternoon, but it wasn’t that hot. But you didn’t want to push it.

“Should we go home?“ you offered, and the worry in your voice made him feel even worse. He just couldn’t understand why you were being so nice to him. He knew you probably just thought you were looking after a friend, but he'd rather you not care about his well-being and leave him be. He didn’t need one more reason to like you - he already had plenty of those.

He nodded, mustering as convincing a smile as he could. “Sure.”

The walk home was much quieter than usual. You could feel that Jake was keeping something to himself, and it was killing you; but whatever it was, you wanted him to tell you when he felt ready and not feel forced to. Your hand was aching, desperate to reach out and grab his as you had done before, but you were afraid that would only push him away even further. So you stayed silent most of the time, only commenting on the things around you or speaking a thought out loud when you thought it might make Jake smile. Every time his lips curled up, even ever so slightly, your heart swelled with relief.

Unbeknownst to you, Jake was making up his mind. He knew he needed time away from you to gather his feelings before he could see you as a friend again.

When you reached your house, Jake waited outside with the dogs as you grabbed his bag he’d left upstairs. You hugged goodbye as always, but this one was different - it lasted a few seconds longer than usual, and you could swear Jake held you tighter than he normally would. It felt like he was saying goodbye for more than just a couple days.

You didn’t understand why it made your heart ache so much.

—

The next day, when you walked past Jake and Sunghoon in the hallway, Jake barely glanced at you and only tilted his head in your general direction instead of his usual wide grin and wave. You were so shocked by his sudden snubbing that you halted in your steps right away, looking behind you at his retreating figure. You locked eyes with Sunghoon, who seemed just as confused as you felt. He shrugged at you before returning to his friend and nudging his arm.

On Wednesday morning, you got a text from Jake that he couldn’t make it to your tutoring session that afternoon because of an extra soccer practice to prepare for their game that weekend, something he had never mentioned before.

Thursday and Friday weren’t very different, and your heart became heavier with every time you walked past each other and he acted like you weren’t even there. You desperately wanted to know what you’d done wrong, why he’d started to reply in one-word sentences instead of his usual voice messages and tons of emojis, but no matter how much you cogitated, you couldn’t figure it out. Even when you asked him how his game had gone, a dry Good stared back at you from your phone screen.

That Saturday, your girlfriends came over. Yena had brought beads and strings to make accessories out of, and the mere sight of them had brought fond memories back to all four of you - during your first sleepover in freshman year, this was the exact activity that had kept you occupied for hours.

You got started on them immediately, each finding a comfortable spot in your room as soft music played in the background. You lay on your bed while Chaewon and Yena took over the floor and Hyewon sat at your desk.

“I’m gonna make one of those phone accessories,” Yena said excitedly, reaching for the biggest, most colorful beads.

“I’m gonna make couple bracelets for Jaemin and I,” Hyewon said somewhat shyly but beaming. Yena and Chaewon groaned at her words, but they gave you an idea.

“You guys are vomit-inducing,” Yena replied, and if you didn’t know your friend any better, just going off the tone of her voice, you’d have thought she was being serious. Hyewon just rolled her eyes, used to this daily slander she received simply for being in a relationship.

“I’ll make something for my little sister,” Chaewon butted in, and you and Yena simultaneously ‘aww’ed.

“So it’s aww when Chaewon does it for her sister, and it’s vomit-inducing when I do it for my boyfriend?” Hyewon exclaimed, appalled.

“Little sisters are cute. Boyfriends are gross,” Yena replied matter-of-factly, making you giggle.

“Whatever. You guys are just jealous that you’re dying alone and I’m not. What are you making, Y/N?” she asked before Yena could retort again. The two exchanged a glare as you thought over your answer.

“I’m not saying,” you replied with a giggle.

“She’s making one for Jake, that evil wench,” Chaewon immediately said, making your eyes widen. Yena gasped dramatically while Hyewon smiled at you.

“How did you know?” you asked Chaewon.

“Just your face. You’re so obvious,” she snickered.

“You’re a traitor, Y/N!” Yena exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at you, and you hid your face in your hands, muttering an apology. “Wasting time and energy on a boy.”

“Don’t listen to her, Y/N. Whatever it is you make, he’ll be super happy you thought of him. Then he’ll finally ask you out and you’ll live happily ever after, just like me and Jaemin,” Hyewon said with a serene smile on her face. Chaewon and Yena exchanged a look, then faked a gagging sound. “So bitter,” Hyewon muttered, shaking her head at your friends.

“I’m not sure about that,” you sighed. “I just want to be friends again. He’s been ignoring me all week.”

All three snapped their heads up at you. “He’s been ignoring you?” Yena echoed, and you meekly nodded. “Give me his phone number. No, give me his address. I’m going there right now,” she said, already sitting up.

“Gosh, Yena, it’s fine,” you said, gesturing at her to sit back down, laughing at your friend’s seriousness. “I’ll see him on Monday anyway, I can just see how he behaves then.”

Yena didn’t look convinced, but she yielded anyway. “If he hurts you, I swear I’ll give him a stern talking to. And a broken nose.” You laughed as you thanked your friend.

Hyewon asked for more details about this Jake situation, so you filled your friends in about his mysterious behavior that week. Chaewon had been the only one to see it firsthand, when you’d walked to a class together and Jake had walked past you without saying anything. You told them about his sparse answers to your texts, his lack of response to the TikToks you sent him. He wasn’t even reacting to your BeReals anymore. It was just such a complete switch-up in attitude that you had no idea what to make of it. They tried to come up with reasons for it, but it really didn’t make much sense. It just felt like he suddenly decided to hate you - or maybe you had been interpreting everything wrong, and the two of you had never been friends in the first place.

“This is so confusing,” Chaewon suddenly said, seeming lost in thought. “I thought for sure that he liked you.”

“Liked… me?” you echoed.

“Yeah. Just the way he was when we were at the diner. He kept looking at you and was always smiling and blushing whenever you talked to him. Also the way Jay and Sunghoon were behaving. Boys are so obvious when their friend likes someone, it’s like they’re trying to fumble it for him. And I mean, anyone with functioning eyes can see that you like him too, so I don’t know why he’s doing this all of a sudden.”

Yena sighed. “Boys are stupid.”

“That, they are,” you agreed, sighing as well and returning your attention to your craft. Maybe a simple gift like this wouldn’t fix what was going on between you and Jake, but you had to at least try. You couldn’t let go of your friendship so easily.

Even though it seemed as though he could.

Nothing changed the next week. On Monday, you woke up to a text that pulled your heart down into your stomach.

jakey-poo i think we should stop tutoring each other for now

For an hour as you ate breakfast and got ready for school, you ruminated over your answer, only to ask him a simple why? in the end.

jakey-poo i’m to busy w soccer practice and other stuff we can start again when exams are near

you oh okay

You felt pathetic, but you had no idea what to say. You couldn’t force him into this, and you definitely couldn’t show up at his house and demand a better explanation. If you were Yena or Chaewon, maybe you could - but you weren’t. You couldn’t even bring yourself to ask him if the two of you could still hang out outside of that, so scared you were for his inevitable rejection.

During the week, you tried to find a time when you could give him your small handmade gift, but Jake wasn’t even looking you in the eyes anymore. The only time you made eye contact with him over those five days was on Wednesday at lunch - as you walked into the cafeteria, you scanned the whole room, unconsciously searching for him. When you did, he was already looking at you - he was close enough for you to see the slight frown in his eyebrows, the lack of the usual glint in his eyes. But as soon as he’d seen you’d found him, he turned away. You only looked away when Chaewon called out your name.

In the few classes you had together, he always slipped away before you could get to him. Him walking past you like he couldn’t even see you broke your heart a little bit more every time, and by Friday, you had completely given up. Your friendship with Jake was over, and you had no idea why, no idea who or what to blame.

Monday and Wednesday afternoons felt empty now that you had gotten used to spending them with him, and you couldn’t even walk Kiwi without missing him. He seemed to miss Jake and Layla too - he’d sometimes tilt his head at you as if asking where your new friends were, and when you got to the park, he’d gloomily stick to you instead of running around like he usually would, especially when Layla was there.

The worst part was at night, when your thoughts kept you up. You’d reread your and Jake’s text conversations, wondering what went so wrong so quickly, warm tears spilling from your eyes out of sadness and tiredness. On those nights, you’d sneak Kiwi up to your room and let him cuddle up to you in your bed. You’d comfort each other that way.

You had no idea that a couple kilometers away, Jake lay in bed sleepless as well, Layla at the edge of his bed and whining in her sleep. You had no idea that missing you had carved a deep hole in his chest.

—

Enough was enough.

It had been days since Layla had last seen Kiwi, and to a young pup like her, that felt like eternity. Lately, Jake hadn’t seemed happy to go on walks with her like he used to, and he barely had any energy to play with her. She also hadn’t seen you in days, and she wondered if that had anything to do with Jake’s recent despondency.

But thankfully, Layla was a smart girl, so she knew exactly what to do to fix this dire situation. On Friday, she waited for Jake to come back from soccer practice and take her on a walk. As soon as they reached the sidewalk outside of their house, she pulled on her leash in the opposite direction of their usual route. Jake tried pulling her the other way, but she wouldn’t budge.

“We’re going that way, Layla,” Jake said, amused by his dog’s sudden stubbornness. Layla barked back. “Come on!”

She was really not moving. “We never go that way,” Jake said, sighing. “That way’s the-”

That’s when he realized. Layla wanted to go to the park you went to with Kiwi. “But what if we ran into them?” Jake asked.

Layla barked again. She wanted to say, That’s exactly why I want to go there, but of course Jake didn’t understand. He sighed again and obliged, letting Layla lead the way. She had a good feeling that she’d finally see her friends again today.

Jake’s heart started beating faster with every step he took, knowing that you might be out right now, too. When he’d seen you at school, you’d seemed as sad as he was, and he felt terrible for perhaps being the reason behind it - but he didn’t know what else to do. He could either spare your feelings or his. If this was hurting you, he knew you’d move on quickly enough anyway - and when he came to terms with being just friends with you, he’d come back, and everything would be perfect like it used to be. Foolproof plan.

If there was one thing Jake had learned from the tutoring sessions with you, it was that the weather always reflected the protagonist’s inner thoughts. If they were upset, it would be gray and rainy - if they were happy, it would be warm and sunny. Jake glared at the sun, just another reminder that he wasn’t the main character in this story. If he was, it would be thundering and lightning would be striking.

As if his life was a joke, two minutes after Jake and Layla had walked into the park, he saw you. At least you were facing the other direction, so you couldn’t see him, and he could redirect his route to avoid you. But he let himself indulge in the moment for a few seconds. You had laid out a picnic blanket for you and Kiwi and rested on your stomach with your elbows propping you up, reading a book. Kiwi slept peacefully next to you - this dog was the furthest thing from a guard dog Jake had ever seen. You kicked your feet up in the air, flip flops discarded to the side of the blanket. Jake was happy to see you like this, enjoying the warmth of this sunny May afternoon.

He was about to walk away, but a sudden movement caught his eye. Two school kids started running to you, and before you could even register their presence, one of them snatched your flip flops and they both sprinted away, shrieking with laughter like two little devils. Where the hell were their parents?!

Without thinking, Jake started running after them, and so did Kiwi and Layla.

“Hey! Come back here!” Jake yelled, hoping in vain that these kids would listen to someone older than them. Kiwi did his best, but his tiny legs didn’t allow for such a chase - Layla, barking loudly at the thieves, was the first to reach them, and she managed to scare them so much, they tripped over their feet. But unlike them, she was well-behaved, so she sat once her job was done and waited for Jake to arrive.

“What are you two doing? You can’t just steal other people’s things!” he admonished, holding onto his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

Both kids were already teary-eyed. “We just wanted to play a prank, we’re sorry!” one of them quickly said, voice shaky.

“It’s not to me you should apologize, but to her,” Jake said, turning around to point in your direction. That’s when he noticed you sitting on your knees, hands covering your face as your shoulders trembled. “You made her cry!” Jake exclaimed, tone much angrier than seconds prior. “Let’s go,” he said, grabbing the kids by their shoulders and forcing them to keep up with his quick steps.

You didn’t notice their presence in front of you until Jake prompted them. At the sound of the all too familiar voice, you whipped your head up. Jake swore he heard his heart breaking when he saw your red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. You barely heard the kids’ apology, so amazed you were at suddenly seeing Jake.

“We’re sorry for stealing your flip-flops and making you cry,” the first one said.

“Sorry,” repeated the other one, handing you your shoes.

“Oh, right. Thanks, just don’t do it again,” you replied, sniffing as you took back your shoes.

“We won’t!” they replied in unison before running away once more.

Jake stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, unsure what to say. He watched you stare at your flip flops like you’d never seen them before in your life. “You’re not going to thank me for catching those delinquents?” he asked after a small while, chuckling slightly.

This made you look up at him. He gulped as your eyes met. Then, you burst into sobs again, and Jake started panicking. He crouched down to your level, first holding you by the shoulders then forcing your head out of your hands so he could wipe away your tears with the pads of his thumbs.

“No no no, why are you crying, Y/N?” he asked softly, pulling you into a hug.

You continued crying into his shoulder, ignoring Kiwi and Layla’s confused stares. “You- you- I haven’t seen you in ages!” you exclaimed.

Jake sighed. He didn’t understand why you were crying like this for him, all he knew was that he’d never felt so awful. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered into your hair, pulling your shaking body closer to him. “I’m sorry.”

You leaned back to glare at Jake, your bottom lip jutting out in discontent. “Do you even know how much I missed you?”

Jake held your head in his hands like it was the most precious thing in the world. Mouth agape in surprise, he looked at you with sad eyes. “You… you did?”

Your eyebrows creased. “Of course I did!” Another sob rippled through your body, and Jake took you back in his arms, wrapping them around your shoulders and resting his cheek against your hair.

“I missed you too.”

“Then why did you do this?” you asked, voice breaking.

“Because I didn’t want to get hurt,” Jake whispered back. “But I didn’t think I’d hurt you. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You leaned back again, but this time, you looked confused rather than angry. His eyes were soft as they scanned your face and as he brushed strands of your hair back behind your ears. “Why would you get hurt?” you asked again, bringing your voice to the same volume as his.

Jake sighed and squeezed his eyes shut for a second, as if in pain, before opening them again and boring them into yours. “I like you so, so much Y/N. So much so that I don’t know what to do with myself. But I know that you don’t feel the same way, and I was scared that by staying by your side, I’d just fall in love with you even more and get hurt in the end. So I pushed you away because I didn’t know what else to do, but I’m so sorry I- You’re crying again?”

Your fists grabbed at the front of Jake’s t-shirt as sobs raked through your body once more. It was official - Jake was the stupidest person you’d ever met. And you were in love with him.

“Why are you crying?”

“Because I like you too, you idiot!” you yelled back. Your tears were probably staining his t-shirt, but you couldn’t care less. He liked you. Jake liked you.

You were too busy crying to see Jake’s eyes slowly widening in disbelief. “You what?!”

Gently, Jake pushed your shoulders back so he could look at you. Even with puffy eyes and a runny nose, you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. Pretty like an angel that had graced the Earth with her presence. “You what?” he repeated, just to hear you say it again.

“I like you, Jake. I’m so in love with you it's actually pathetic,” you said with a chuckle, looking down out of shyness. But when you looked back up, Jake’s eyes were going back and forth between yours, the expression on his face like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard but desperately hoped it was true.

As you locked eyes, both of your faces lit up with grins. You burst into laughter together, finding each other’s hands and intertwining your fingers together. Then Jake brought you back into his arms, holding tightly, as if he was scared you might disappear any second. Kiwi and Layla had long walked away to give the two of you some needed privacy.

In each other’s arms, you rocked side to side gently and laughed for no reason other than the incredible fact your feelings were reciprocated. “You stink, you know,” you suddenly said in-between giggles. “You sweat while you ran after those kids.”

“I sweat? You mean I swote, right?” Jake asked a pause.

You leaned back to look at Jake. “Swote?” you echoed, and he nodded. Your umpteenth smile made your cheeks lift. “You have to be kidding-”

“I am,” Jake cut off, mirroring your smile. “I just wanted to make you laugh.”

You gasped and lightly punched his chest before letting your body fall against his again. “You’re so silly,” you said, sighing in bliss at the sound of his giggles.

Then all of a sudden, Jake pulled away and looked at you, almost frightened. “What about Sunghoon?”

“What about him?” you asked back, confused by Jake’s question.

“I thought you- Didn’t you- you know…”

You tilted your head at Jake, a small grin spreading on your lips again. “I don’t know.”

“I thought you liked him…” Jake mumbled, looking away with a pout.

Before you could stop it, a noise of confusion left your throat. You looked at Jake like he was insane. “I can barely have a conversation with Sunghoon, what made you think I liked him?”

Jake pursed his lips and let a resigned puff of air out of his nose. “I, um- Remember when we mixed our backpacks up?” he asked and you nodded, smiling at the fun memory. “I may have, um, I may have read… your… diary,” he admitted, voice getting quieter with each word. He dared a glance at you - you looked horrified, eyes wide and mouth agape. “And you wrote that you liked Sunghoon,” he finished with a whisper.

It was silent for a few seconds, and Jake was bracing himself for a slap to the face or your screams, until you did the last thing Jake expected you to do - you laughed. You laughed so hard and for so long that he got scared you had gone insane and this was the first part of your mental breakdown before you murdered him in cold blood for having invaded your privacy. He would’ve deserved it, he thought.

“I don’t- oh my God, Jake, I don’t- I don’t like Sunghoon. I never really have, or not in the way you think, I can’t- oh my God,” you explained in between giggles, trying to catch your breath but starting to laugh again every time you managed to compose yourself. Jake tried to laugh along, but he was too confused to do so properly.

“You’re not mad?” Jake asked, eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“No,” you replied, shaking your head and the last giggles out of your throat. “You read it ages ago, and we didn’t even know each other back then, there’s no point in being mad now. It’s just funny - I know exactly why you think I liked Sunghoon, but I didn’t. Not really. And even if I did, those feelings are nothing compared to the ones I have for you now,” you said, beaming. A blush spread on Jake’s cheeks, and you could tell he was trying (and failing) to contain a proud grin.

You explained to Jake the ‘character’ thing you and your friends had going on and that Sunghoon (and hat guy) just happened to be one of them - you watched as Jake narrowed his eyes and slowly nodded, trying to understand this concept that was so foreign to him.

“You know, it all makes a lot more sense now,” Jake said when you were explaining. “It would’ve been weird for you to like Sunghoon when I was right there.” He smirked down at you as you playfully rolled your eyes.

“Oh my God!” you suddenly exclaimed, startling Jake in the process. Dramatic as always, he put a hand over his heart and exhaled loudly. “I have something for you. For us, actually.” You reached into your bag and got out the two accessories you’d made for you and Jake. “These are for us to put on our backpacks, so that we don’t confuse them again. They also match.”

Jake’s eyes were fixated on the string of beads as you placed into his palm. “I tried to give it to you over the week, but…”

A teardrop fell into Jake’s palms, and when you looked at him, you realized he’d started crying. “Jake?” you cooed softly, and he sniffled, wiping away the tears from his eyes.

As a response, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and buried his face in your hair. “Thank you. And I’m sorry. I promise you’ll never go a second without my undivided attention from now on,” he said, voice shaking with emotion, and you hummed happily.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

He leaned back, and you were relieved to find the familiar puppyish grin on his lips. You gazed into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, and before he could stop himself, he grabbed your head in his hands and pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead. You raised your eyebrows in surprise, but when his face was back in front of yours, your eyes immediately drifted to his lips. They looked soft and plump and pink, and were utterly inviting. Every time you’d started daydreaming about kissing Jake, you’d stopped yourself, not wanting to over-indulge in your fantasies. But was this finally, really happening?

“Y/N?” Jake said quietly. You could swear his face was getting closer.

“Hm?”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

Your face broke out into a grin. Without warning, you pressed your lips against Jake’s - initially just for a peck, but as soon as you started pulling away, Jake chased after your lips and trapped them into a kiss, a proper one this time. You’d never done this before, so it was naturally somewhat clumsy, but you and Jake were so giddy with excitement that you couldn’t care less. So what if you were smiling so hard, your teeth clashed against his, or you kept bumping noses? You were kissing Jake Sim.

The second time around, he let you pull away to catch your breath, and you wished you could photograph the sight in front of you - Jake with flushed cheeks, closed eyes and a serene smile on his face. He was so pretty, and now, he was all yours.

When he opens his eyes and finds you looking at him, his smile widens. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

“Yes,” you echoed, laughing. You pressed your lips to his cheek before burying your face in the crook of his neck.

He hugged you to him and the sweet sound of his giggles filled your ears and your heart. “My girl,” he whispered, before leaning his head back, face to the sky, and screaming it loud enough for the whole park to hear. You tried to shush him, but you couldn’t stop laughing yourself out of sheer excitement. Layla and Kiwi came running back to you, barking happily and trying to lick your faces.

“I cried so much today, my eyes are gonna be puffy tomorrow morning,” you said between giggles.

Jake pressed his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. “I’ll make sure you never cry again, Y/N,” he said, and he sounded so genuine, you almost wanted to cry again right then and there.

The rest of the afternoon went by in a blur - while you and Jake kissed, laughed, talked, and hugged, hours that felt like minutes passed you by. Jake kept on looking at the accessory you made him, poking fun at you for knowing his favorite color even though he’d never mentioned it.

“It was a lucky guess,” you grumbled. “Your room’s walls are that color,” you said, pointing to a particular dark blue bead.

“I love it,” he replied with a kiss to your forehead.

As always, he walks you home - and this time, you can take his hand without any hesitation. Your mom had come home from work while you and Jake were out, and you found her in the kitchen, prepping some veggies for dinner.

As soon as Jake introduced himself, a flash of revelation struck her and she shot you a knowing smirk. “So you’re Jake,” she said, and the boy glanced at you with amused confusion. “That one over there has been badgering me about you these past few weeks.”

Apparently, you agreeing to be his girlfriend had already gone to his head, because instead of looking surprised at your mom’s words, he slowly turned to you with an arrogant smirk gracing his lips. “Has she?”

Your mom nodded slowly. “Oh, yes.” Then her expression slowly morphed into something else as she remembered your red, puffy eyes from the other evening when you’d told her about what was going on with Jake. She raised her kitchen knife and pointed it straight to him, eyes narrowed. “If you ever hurt my daughter again, I’m putting you in the lasagna, young man.”

Jake gulped, smirk completely wiped off of his face. You just watched in amusement. “I- I won’t,” he stuttered, eyes fixed on the blade of the knife.

A wide grin reappeared on your mom’s face as she went back to cutting the vegetables. “Good!”

Jake looked at you for some sort of explanation, but you simply shrugged. He’d just have to get used to your mom’s crazy.

“You know, you’re just as handsome as she described,” your mom told Jake with a wink.

“Mom, please!” you exclaimed, cheeks burning with heat. You liked it better when she was threatening your boyfriend with a knife, but he was relieved by the new turn this conversation had taken.

“What else has she said?”

“Oh, you know, just your typical he’s so smart, he’s so cute, he’s so funny-”

“Okay, that’s it!” you cut in before your mom could spill more on you. You ignored Jake’s noises of complaint as you grabbed him by the shoulders and led him towards the door. “I think it’s time for you to go home, no?”

“Y/N, come on!” Jake whined, giggling.

“Why don’t you stay for dinner, Jake?” your mom offered, making you stop in your tracks. You stared wide-eyed at her but she just looked at Jake, wearing an inviting smile.

“Sure!” Jake beamed. “I just need to call my mom.”

“Oh, invite her along! I always make enough to feed an army, anyway.”

“Really?” Jake asked, incredulous. Since his brother had left for university, it had always been just he and his mom at the dinner table. The thought of sharing a meal with you and your mom filled his heart with warmth.

“Yeah!”

Jake smiled giddily as he got his phone out. “Thanks, she’ll be stoked.”

Although you both wanted to help your mom, she urged you to stay outside with the dogs and enjoy the last rays of sunshine of the day, insisting she didn’t need any help. So you and Jake spent some time throwing sticks for Kiwi and Layla and giggling at their cuteness. Kiwi quickly got exhausted and came to lie down at your feet, but Layla was tireless. “Your dog, your responsibility,” you said as you sat down next to Kiwi, rubbing his tummy and watching Jake throw the stick over and over again for Layla.

Jake was as relentless as Layla, and every time she ran after the stick, he ran to you and pressed a kiss to another part of your face, making you giggle every time. Once on your forehead, once on your nose, once on your cheek, then the other, and once on your lips.

Then his mom rang the bell, and as your mom opened the door for her, the oddest thing happened - they called out each other’s name and hugged as if they were old friends. You and Jake exchanged a confused look before turning your attention back to them.

“What a coincidence!”

“Right! Such a small world, I can’t believe you’re my daughter’s boyfriend’s mom.”

“Boyfriend? Gosh, has he finally asked her out? I was going crazy seeing him moping around in his room!”

“Mom!” Jake yelled, face already reddening as you burst into laughter.

You joined them inside the house and set the table while your mom finished up dinner. Jake’s mom had brought a bottle of red wine as a gift, so she poured two glasses for her and your mom, but you and Jake stuck to Sprite.

Apparently, they knew each other from some yoga class they both went to every Sunday - you found out this was the woman your mom often went out for lunch or drinks with. They were so excited to meet each other like this that they talked most of the time, leaving you and Jake to eat your food quietly and giggling every time you made eye contact or your feet touched under the table.

Just as you were about to take your last bite of lasagna, your phone pinged with a message. Curiously, so did Jake’s. Chaewon had sent a message into the group chat, asking to meet her at work when her shift was done because she was craving an Oreo milkshake.

chae bae y/n u better come ik ur not doing anything better tonight anyway

You scoffed. You were doing something better.

“Shit, today’s Friday! The boys are waiting for me at the diner, I completely forgot,” Jake exclaimed as he read the messages on his phone.

“Language, Jake,” his mom scolded.

“At the diner?” you repeated.

“Yeah, that one we went to last time. Why?” Jake asked when he noticed your surprised expression.

“That’s where Chaewon wants to meet.”

You both turned to your respective moms, silently asking for permission to leave the dinner table.

“Just go,” your mother said with a smile.

“I’ll take Layla home later,” Jake’s mom added.

You thanked them before rushing to get a bag and heading to the bus stop, hoping a bus would come by soon. Twenty minutes later, you were opening the doors of the diner and looking around for your friends, who were nowhere to be found. You were fishing your phone out of your pocket to call Chaewon when a familiar voice caught your and Jake’s attention.

“What are they doing together?” you heard Jay say, followed by loud shushes. You turned your head to find all five of your friends (plus Jaemin) crammed in a booth in the corner that was somewhat hidden from the rest of the restaurant. But they were trying so hard to be discreet that it made their presence even more obvious - they hid their faces with their hands as if that would make them disappear from your view. You and Jake shared a look before chuckling, shaking your head at your friends.

“Whatever, they’ve clearly found us,” Jay sighed and exited the booth, walking towards the two of you.

“Were you guys trying to get us to make up or something?” Jake asked with an amused smile.

“Yeah, we grouped up and planned this whole thing. It was a real team effort.”

“It might’ve worked better if you hadn’t all stayed here, you guys were so obvious,” you chided.

“Tell that to your friends over there! They insisted on watching it unfold,” Jay grumbled, and you looked behind him to see your friends frantically waving at you.

You switched to a bigger booth that could accommodate all seven of you, and as soon as you’d placed your orders, Yena practically pounced on you, demanding an explanation as to how the two of you were already made up.

You turned to look at Jake and smiled at him before answering. “It’s all thanks to Kiwi, really,” you told Yena.

“Kiwi? As in your dog Kiwi?” Chaewon asked with furrowed eyebrows.

“Mh-hm.” In your peripheral, you noticed Jake tilting his head at you.

“You mean Layla, right?”

You imitated his head movement. “No, I mean Kiwi.”

“But Layla made me go to the park today. I wouldn’t have gone there if it wasn’t for her,” Jake insisted, giving you an are you being serious look that you mirrored.

“I wasn’t going to go outside at all but Kiwi kept bugging me to take him on a walk, that’s why I was in the park in the first place. It’s thanks to Kiwi,” you repeated.

“It’s thanks to Layla,” Jake retorted, playfully narrowing his eyes at you.

“Trouble in paradise,” Jaemin whispered, and Hyewon slapped his arm.

The whole table was silent as you and Jake stared each other down, waiting to see who would cave first. It was like everyone could breathe again when Jake’s face broke out into a grin and he rested his arm behind your shoulders. “Okay, it’s thanks to Kiwi,” he conceded, making you hum in satisfaction. You rested your head on his shoulder and ignored Yena’s groan of disgust at the PDA.

But Jake, as always, wasn’t letting you off the hook so easily. “And Layla.”

—

02.06.202X - 12:18

rodrigo hater y/n i can see you being gross from across the courtyard can u guys not feed each other ur still on school grounds and ur ruining my day have some decency

sweet hyewon you guys are super cute <3 jaemin and i only have the same lunch period once a week i miss him

rodrigo hater ugh wheres chaewon she’d have my back

you hyewon love u yena frigg off you’re not going to like this… i think she’s with sunghoon rodrigo hater WHAT

sweet hyewon omg hahahaha saw it coming cuuuuute

rodrigo hater i hate you all so much you’re all kicked out of my celibacy club

chae bae we weren’t part of it in the first place

rodrigo hater GO AWAY YOU TRAITOR

03.06.202X - 09:15

you jake wake up wake up wake up please

jake ??? R U okay?

you kiwi keeps whining i think he wants to see layla come over?

jake . did u just wake me up before 10 am on a sunday morning for this

you i made pancakes?

jake i’m going back to sleep

you but i miss you :(

jake running

07.06.202X - 16:39

stink #1 hey

jake no

stink #1 wtf man

jake im busy

stink #1 smooching ur girl?

jake yeah stay mad bro

stink #1 where’s hoon

stink #2 he’s at ice skating practice with me <3 this is chaewon btw

jake AYO????

stink #1 HE GAVE YOU ACCESS TO HIS PHONE???

stink #2 hehehe bye losers

stink #1 oh my god jake this is huge

jake right… our little boy he’s grown so much

stink #1 i’m getting teary eyed anyway i wanted to say i think we should invite the girls to bro night more often it’s always fun with them

jake oh? if u wanna see yena just say so bro

stink #1 fuck u man

jake ur literally so obvious you get 100% more obnoxious when she’s around

stink #1 idc she laughs at my jokes

jake which is proof that there’s something wrong w her anyway i’ll ask my girl about it

stink #1 ew and thx ^^

09.06.202X - 17:03

jakey-poo y/nnnnnn y/n hellloooooo y/n y/n y/n baby :(((( where are u what r u doing i miss you hello y/n my baby darling angel pls answer me layla misses you

you jake sim

jakey-poo HIIIIII

you jay is a genius i’m anime pomodoroing the hell out of this essay it’s working so well i’m almost done with it already

jakey-poo don’t compliment another man ever again i’m going to cry

you but jay’s your friend

jakey-poo i’ll kill him if i have to

you gosh okay jay’s an idiot

jakey-poo hahaha he is ice cream after dinner ???

you duh

31.07.202X - 21:03

jakey-poo i’m waiting for you outside the theater baby we have a lot of talking to do. i can’t believe you kissed someone else in front of me

you jake baby it was just acting <3 you know you’re the only one i really kiss

jakey-poo i know i am so come here and kiss me quick you did so well and you were so pretty on stage and i love you so much COME QUICK I WANNA KISS YOU

you i’m hurrying i promise but a lot of people are trying to talk to me :(

jakey-poo ofc they are you killed it my baby’s already famous <3

you hehe love you my jakey-poo

jakey-poo STOP IT WITH THAT

permanent taglist: @zreamy @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts @moonlighthoon @4imhry @rikisly @loves0ft @iamliacamila @theboingsuckerasseater9000 @chaechae-23 (ask to be removed/added!)

#@ : uc #enhypen x reader #jake sim x reader #enhypen fluff #jake sim fluff #jake x reader #jake fluff #enhypen scenarios #jake sim scenarios #enhypen imagines #jake sim imagines #enhypen angst #jake sim angst

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jazzyoranges · 7 months

Text

Recollections of the past

Tara Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: when you die, Tara struggles living without you

Words: 2k

A/n: thanks for all the love on ‘birthdays and stress’ :D

Warnings: scream 6 spoilers, major character death, angst, hurt/comfort (but mostly hurt), blood, crying, mention of sex

Tara swears she can hear angels sing when you catch her eye. She looks at you, and her heart soars. It might’ve been the booze, it might’ve been the second-hand weed, but something came over her when you looked at her with the utmost adoration. Tara can’t control her body when she starts to lean in closer, and you end up closing the gap.

Your lips fit together like you’d done this hundreds of times before. You pull the smaller girl on top you, and Tara sighs like she’s just been accepted into heaven. Her hands tangle into your hair, and it’s your turn to sigh as she starts to massage the back of your head.

Unfortunately you’re both humans that need air to breathe, but that doesn’t stop you two from diving back into each other when you’re both ready for more.

Tara made sure she had the first pleasure of saying ‘I love you’ only seconds after you asked her to be your girlfriend.

“Little miss eager, are we?”

“I’d come up with a witty remark, but i’d much rather have incredibly soft sex with you”

“God, you’re such a dork. I’m surprised we haven’t done this sooner”

“God can’t help you anymore, baby. You’re all mine, and i’m not letting you go~”

“You’re saying that like it’s a problem”

“I remember the night i realized i was in love with you. Whenever i miss you, i always think about that night. I know i’m always telling you about it, but you were just so… ethereal. I don’t think i’d ever be able to forget how you smiled at me.”

On particularly bad nights when Tara had nightmares about Amber and the Ghostface attacks, you were always there to tell her it’ll be okay. At first Sam wasn’t too approving, but you reminded her of herself. You gained Sam’s trust when you showed up at their front door in the middle of the night looking like you’d just woken up (which you did) and proceeded to let Tara cry into your neck until the sun came up.

You’d rub circles into her back and massage the back of her head until your hands were numb, and the circulation of blood has long since left your fingers. Even before you two were official, you’d give Tara the most tender kisses you could offer her.

When you kissed her nose, she’d scrunch it up and give you the tiniest smile. When you kissed her cheek, she’d giggle and mumble ‘That tickles’ in a barely audible whisper. Finally, when you kissed her forehead, her wrinkles would disappear like they were never there. Only then would you start to lay Tara back down on her bed and let the smaller girl sleep until the afternoon

Tara found your smell intoxicating like a drug. She needed it to sleep, go outside, or do anything. She just need you around her at all times. Tara would steal your clothes just for the days you couldn’t be in her apartment.

“I haven’t washed any of your clothes. Sam tells me they’ll grow mold, but i’d keep them either way. Your mom let me take home most of your clothes. Sometimes i wish you’d bought more so i wouldn’t have to use the same ones every night.”

It’s been 3 weeks since you’ve died, and Tara hasn’t gotten used to the idea of you not being home. After long nights under the sheets with her, you’d make Tara something to eat every single morning after. Your aftercare didn’t stop until you decided your girlfriend was well taken care of.

Breakfast in bed, relaxing baths, Tara may as well be the queen of England with how much you spoiled her. More often than not, you’re up and awake hours before Tara. You use this time to clean up and tidy until your next round of fun times.

You’d wash her clothes, prepare her bag for classes, and clean up the strewn about clothes from the night before. When Tara woke up, she’d be able to hear the sizzling of bacon on a pan, and your less-than-ideal-singing. Tara found it adorable when you’d mess up a lyric or try and hit a high note.

Tara still woke up to bacon sizzling and music in the background, but your voice was no longer there. Maybe you just got tired from singing? Yeah. Definitely that. Tara waited for you to arrive in her room. You usually came in around 9:30 am, but the clock quickly turned into 10:00 am, 11:00 am, 12:00 pm and even 1:00 pm. Before she knew it, Sam was spoon feeding her at 10:00 pm and you still weren’t there.

��Whenever i smell breakfast and you’re not in bed with me, i always assume you’ll come bursting through the door with a smile on your face with a tray of my favorite food. I’ve spent hours waiting for you to show up, but you never do.”

It’s been 2 months since you died, and Tara hadn’t left her room in days. Sam was growing more and more concerned as time passed. She didn’t want to admit it, but Sam was scared. What was she supposed to do in this situation? Her baby sister was hurting, and she wasn’t able to take away her pain. Sam wasn’t dumb. She saw how you two looked at each other. There was nothing but love.

Sam didn’t want to admit it, but you’d won her over long before she showed it. You were a good friend as well. Always offering to be a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen. Now you were gone, and Sam didn’t know how to help Tara heal.

After a particularly long night at work, Sam wasn’t met with the silence of an apartment, but the crying of her sister. Sam wanted to do something, but she didn’t know what. So for now she’d be the shoulder to cry on, just as you had been for the Carpenter sisters.

A nervous Sam opened Tara’s door, and she was met with her younger sister curled in a ball while wearing your shorts and shirt. Sam felt tears prick at her eyes from the sight, but she had to be strong. She had to be there for her baby sister. Slowly walking toward Tara’s bed, Sam leaned down to meet her eyes.

“…Sammy?” Tara croaked, and Sam could feel her heart shatter. Tara’s eyes were bloodshot red and her eye bags were such a dark color they rivaled her freckles. Tears were a constant stream on her face, leaving a damp spot on her bedsheets.

“Oh, Tara…” was all Sam could manage before she got into bed with her younger sister. Sam felt like a mother rocking her baby to sleep after a bad dream. God, Sam wished this was a bad dream. The older sister didn’t believe in any deity or god, but that night she prayed. Sam prayed to whoever out there would listen. She prayed her sister would be alright. She prayed her sister would be able to heal. She prayed for this to be a nightmare, and that you’d be alive and breathing the next day. Her last prayer never came true.

“On really bad days, i wear your clothes and put a heat pad on my stomach and pretend it’s you holding me. Sometimes in the middle of the night i can feel a warmth around me. I used to think it was you, but it ended up being Sam trying to comfort me.”

It’s been a year since you died, and Sam has been urging Tara to go outside more. It started off as easy and simple things. Getting groceries, going to the movies, and checking out books at the library. Tara actually got the number of a very pretty librarian. She was beautiful, kind, and sweet. Tara would’ve said she was the one before she’d met you. The librarian — whose name was Katie — asked Tara for her number.

Sam said this could be good for Tara, but they both knew this could only end in one way. Despite this, Tara agreed to a first date. Then a second date. And then a third date at Katie’s apartment.

But Tara’s heart was never in in. Tara felt bad she was wasting such an amazing girl’s time. Her wake up call was when Katie kissed her, and she didn’t feel your lips on hers. Tara cried, and Katie understood she wasn’t the right one. The brunette apologized and apologized, but Katie knew her heart was elsewhere after the first date.

“When other people kiss me, it doesn’t feel right. It feels like i’m cheating on you. I think about the disappointed look you’d have on your face when i come home, but you’re not there to give it to me. I know you’d want me to move on, but i don’t think i can.”

You died ferociously protecting Tara. Punches, kicks, and bites were exchanged. You fought, and you fought hard. But ultimately, protecting Tara was always bound to be your demise. You were battered and bruised when Ethan took the bag off your head.

“Y/N!”

“Not a step closer, Tara.” He pointed the gun at your head. “Or your precious girlfriend over here gets it”

“Fuck you.”

“A lover for a lover. If Richie can’t be alive, neither can she.” He pushes the gun closer to your head, and you have to suppress a shiver at how it’s covered in blood. “You sisters don’t deserve to be happy”

You look up at Tara, and both of you know one person between you two is going to come out of this alive. You decide it’s going to be Tara.

‘I love you’ are the last words you mouth to your girlfriend before you use all your body weight to knock down Officer Bailey and Quinn. A bullet is in your skull less than a second later.

“I still have nightmares, but they’re mostly about you. They’ve gone down with time, but some nights i have to see your face. I can’t tell whether it’s a curse or a blessing most times”

You died when you were only 22. Young and bright-eyed, you were still able to change the lives around you. Mindy shared many of your interests, Anika was your best friend, Chad learned about his love of football through you, and Sam was the sister you never had. But most importantly, you were the love of Tara’s life.

Tara wished she photographed every single moment she had with you. she knows better now. After your death, Tara spent more time with her family — which Chad named ‘The Core Four’. There were sleepovers, game nights, and movie nights way more often now, as per Tara’s request.

Moments with you were only in memory, and she vowed to never let your name leave her mind. So, Tara started to write. At first it was memories and fun moments with you, but it quickly turned into her experiences with Ghostface, and the story of her life. This was only meant for herself, though. Tara saw firsthand how media affects real life.

“I know how much you loved red velvet, so i got you a cupcake. It’s from a new bakery i know you’d like” The brunette sets down a red velvet cupcake with cream cheese frosting and a candle at the base of your headstone.

The shorter girl looks up at the sky, and is met with a rapidly setting sun. “Well it’s getting dark, and i have to leave soon. I don’t want to worry Sam.”

Tara opens a heart-shaped locket around her neck with a picture of you and her in it. Bringing it to her lips, a few stray tears run down her face. “Happy 24th birthday, my love”

#jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter scream #tara carpenter #x reader #x fem!reader #scream #scream 6 #sam carpenter #mindy meeks martin #chad meeks martin #anika kayoko #tara carpenter angst #angst

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mamayan · 8 months

Note

I am shocked that there's no Aizawa nsfw on here

(I was stalking your shi again lmao)

And I am also here to request Aizawa and a bratty reader because I need him🤲🏽

You are so right, he needs more love♡ Only the brattiest for Aizawa! I’m sorry you gotta see my brain rot on my page recently lmfao (BEEF) enjoy!

Aizawa x Brat! Fem! Reader

TW: Teasing • NSFW (M)(F) • Oral (M) • Soft Dom! • Semi! Public • Praise (good girl/kitty) • Cock Warming

“Shouta~♡” The lewd mewling noises on the other end of his cell phone are from none other than you.

He’s in the middle of a lesson, having answered your call out of urgency that something might’ve been wrong. Class was mere minutes from ending, so he didn’t hesitate to fish the cellular device from his slacks and answer.

“m’gonna cum—oh yes, Shouta!” The wet squelching noises on the other end of the line were vulgar, the likelihood of you shoving the phone close to your dripping cunt high so he could really listen. The class was none the wiser, working diligently towards their careers as future pro-heroes while he listened to essentially audio pornography of his wife coming. His face gave nothing away, stoic and bored looking as usual to avoid any suspecting glances up to the front at him. His nice dress shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms, where his veins became prominent as he gripped the podium like it was his worst energy.

Your climax seemed to have been intense, your panting and soft mumbles might’ve been adorable in any other situation, but it wasn’t.

“That’s nice dear, come by the school after you’re finished at home. I have some papers to grade so I might be a while.” Those who weren’t close to him wouldn’t be able to tell the difference in tone, but you did. On the other line laying in bed with your vibrator still buzzing, you heard the fury.

It wasn’t meant to piss him off, it was meant to rile him up to come home early! “Sh-Shouta…” but he’d already hung up the phone. You grimaced, realizing your teasing had the opposite affect, but the way your pussy throbbed told a different story to how you really felt.

You were early, of course, greeting the upcoming students with your regular smiles and words in passing. All until the UA school classroom was deserted, for all but you and your pro-hero husband. He looked dashing, having combed his hair and worn a half suit for a meeting he’d had this morning, his appearance making you ravenous and eager to keep him home. You’d been denied of course, with a sigh and kiss to your forehead, as if it erased how needy you’d gotten.

Licking your lips nervously, you entered the classroom and closed the door with a click. Aizawa was sitting behind his desk, grading papers without looking up at you.

“Lock it.”

You obeyed, pouting your lip cutely in hopes his mood would improve since you’d adorned the cute sundress he said he loves so much.

To no avail. He actually leaves you standing there while still grading. A quick glance at the clock on the wall tells you it’s been almost ten minutes… “Shouta…” nothing. You’re made to stand for another ten as your own attitude starts to spark. Gripping your hands into fists, you intended to lay whine some more, before his head snapped up at you. Effectively shutting you up.

“Here.” He points to the floor with a no nonsense expression, tired dark eyes following you as you hustled into action. The way he was acting assured you he was pissed. No need to further antagonize. You quickly kneel, sure to arch your back and stick your chest out, because you knew after all exactly how he liked to see you. Despite the demure attitude you adorned, he was no fool and knew you still hadn’t learned any lessons.

A large warm palm softly cups your jaw, lifting your head to stare up at him. His handsome rugged face and slow forming smirk making your thighs clench in anticipation.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you kitty?” His fingers pinch together, making you open your mouth as he leans over you in his chair. “Moaning like that while you came, I guess you don’t need anymore today huh?” This has your attention, your rebuttal laughed at as he releases you. His hands traveling to his pants, fancy slacks you had bought for him being undone as he frees himself just enough to release his hard cock.

You briefly wonder if he intends to fuck you in the school of all places. “Shouta this is a school—,” “I know it is. You’d think that thought would’ve crossed your mind when you called me in the middle of class?” Your hypocrisy is quickly called out.

Aizawa pumps his cock a few times, before crooking his finger and curling it for you to move forward. Nervously you do, not ready to admit aloud how much this scenario turns you on.

“Here kitty kitty…” his eyes promise wicked intentions, and like the good pet you are, you slide yourself between his spread legs and stick your tongue out to lick the pearl of pre-cum off his tip. Shivering, you take the hint when he softly presses the back of your head down, taking him in your mouth and to the back of your throat like you’ve practiced so many times before.

“Ohh,” his deep low moan filling your chest with pride, but you realize quickly he’s not letting you slide back up.

Your forced to peak up at him, his lazy smirk and hooded eyes mocking as he looks back.

“Tap my thigh if you can breath and this isn’t uncomfortable.” Confusion washes over you, but you do as he says and tap, because you could breath, but it was odd having his cock in your mouth but not doing anything.

“Don’t move your tongue and don’t suck, you’re going to cock warm me while I work.” He doesn’t miss the startled look in your eye, but chooses to ignore it. “If you need a break, you tap my thigh twice. You can use your safe word after that if necessary.” Despite his anger and the situation, it warms you from the inside out that he’s always so careful to ensure you always have a way out if necessary.

So there you sit, leaning on your left hip and thigh on the cool floor while the sounds of Aizawa scribbling occasionally fill the room. It’s nearly lulling, the feeling of him inside your mouth, just resting as you lean into his lap. Soft brushes against your head and neck relax you further, and you lose track of time in the strange intimacy.

Every now and then, Aizawa allows you up for a break, letting you pant and close your jaw before filling your mouth again.

Finally, you hear him sigh, and watch as he leans back with his arms resting on his chair. You make eye contact, surprised he’s not the least bit frustrated or antsy to move. “Do you know what you did wrong?” You can only blink, clutching the fabric of his pants in your hands. He lets you up, a thick string of saliva keeping your warm mouth and his cock connected.

His pretty red and swollen tip glossy.

“Stand up.” You do, getting onto shaky feet after sitting on your legs so long. Your husband’s hands travel up your thighs, under your dress and to your underwear.

“Let’s see how you are here,” you gasp, as he cups your pussy through your underwear. “Hmm, I hardly touched you and you’re this wet? Do you like being a cocksleeve so much?” His words have you shaking, arousal nearly dripping into his palm as he chuckles.

“So responsive… step out,” he slides your underwear down, the expensive brand useless in favor of your actual pussy. When he’s got you naked from the waist down, he tugs you into his lap, letting you straddle him.

“You did good with your mouth, let’s see if you can be good here too.” You’re sinking down on his thick cock, moaning as you feel him stretch and fill you so much better than the vibrator you’d used this morning. “Ah~ fuck, Shouta,” he stills you when you try to bounce, whining as you grind down.

A sharp slap to your ass has you yelping.

“Good girls don’t take what isn’t given.” His stern tone makes you fully still, but it’s difficult with how good he feels inside you.

He makes you wait, and you realize in horror as you look back from his lap, that his desk is stacked with paperwork.

“Is that all… for tonight?”

A glance at his grin tells you it is.

“I’ve been backed up for a while now, lucky me you volunteered to keep me company while I work.”

“You can’t seriously—,” a grip to your throat hushes you, his expression showing you still haven’t been forgiven from your earlier transgressions.

“I do seriously intend to let you warm my cock the entire time, and you’re going to be good if you want to cum when I finish.”

You’d learn your lesson slowly, that’s the best way to teach a brat.

#aizawa shouta #bnha #Aizawa smut #18+#Aizawa x reader #x reader #Aizawa x fem! reader #brat! x Aizawa #brat taming #boku no hero academia #eraserhead #x fem! reader #soft dom Aizawa

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waklman · 1 year

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Fake it

Chapter Three: Deja Vu

synopsis: a pair of best friends, one apartment, and one fake dating ploy to get jake’s ex girlfriend back, will end well right? wrong.

pairing: jake seresin x female reader.

warnings: no use of y/n, underage drinking, mentions of drugs, jake and reader are both 20. this blog is 18+.

word count: 6.1k

college au, fake dating trope, roomate trope

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With your afternoon class finally wrapping up, you rush to jot down the last bit of the lecture notes—but your professor’s already begun to erase it off the board. At that, you shut your notebook with a resigned sigh. The amount of content covered within the last hour has nearly distracted you from the knotting pain in your abdomen, but it’s quick to resurface again as you stand up from your seat.

It couldn’t have come at a worse time. The opening week party—marking the start of the semester was tonight. And the universe must’ve had it out for you, because you woke up with the tightest cramp known to mankind, today. Not yesterday, not last week, but today. Today, your body decided to turn against you.

Holding your notebook tightly against your stomach, you suck in a sharp breath, failing to hide the discomfort etched on your face. You reach for your bookbag next, tossing back the weight over one shoulder to tread lightly behind the crowd of students heading for the exit.

As everyone spills out of the room, there’s appreciative whispers of thank you’s that can be heard ahead. Looking past the cluster of students in front of you—there’s Jake, as promised. He’s stationed himself by the door, holding it open and flashing a smile at everyone who steps out, as a polite guise to search for your face amongst the crowd. As expected, he's completely unaware that he’s acting as a distraction to your female classmates—who seem to be in no rush to leave.

The scene unfolding in front you is almost comical, like something straight out of a sitcom.

As girls pass him, they make sure to furiously bat their lashes—as if they’re in a race with one another, to see who can do it the fastest. For a split second, you’re convinced they might be able to curate a light breeze to blow into his face if they synced up their eye flapping. And though, the sight was amusing, you're suddenly taken aback by one girl who looks like she’s nearing a stroke from the speed her eyes are fluttering.

Jake might’ve been blind to his surroundings but even she catches his attention, turning his polite smile into an awkward one. But, that’s the exact kind of reaction Jake’s able to pull from people—well, girls. So, it’s truly a mystery to you that Kendall was able to break up with him, again.

Once you finally reach him, Jake lets out a snort. “What’s with the face, Princess? You should be happy your boyfriend’s here to pick you up.”

Jake grabs the top of your head like he's a claw machine, extracting you from the line of students, and placing you behind him. The swift movement causes another twinge of pain to strike you right in the gut. You wouldn’t even wish this onto your worst enemy as you bite down on your tongue to deal with it.

Turning his body to face you, Jake leaves one foot by the edge of the door, still keeping it open for everyone. And the line seems to move faster as he shifts his attention to you.

“What’s wrong? Your bag too heavy?” Jake asks with his brows stitched together.

You straighten up, clearing your throat, now aware of the uneven mass weighing down your shoulder. “Oh,” you gape. “I guess it’s a little—”

Jake cuts you off, tugging on the strap of your school bag, signaling you to pass it over. Wordlessly, you let one hand fall from the notebook in your clutch, allowing him to glide the strap down your arm, transferring it over his broad back like it weighed nothing. And your bookbag just dwarfs in size as it rests over his large frame.

Behind him, your professor is last to step out, muttering a quick ‘Thanks kid’ as he joins the rest of your class in the hallway. Yet, Jake’s too preoccupied by the discomfort still evident on your face to even acknowledge the appreciation. Instead, he just lets the door shut behind him as he juts his chin at you, pairing it with a look. One that says, tell me what’s actually bothering you.

“My stomach kinda hurts,” you admit, giving him a limp shrug to conclude.

At your confession, Jake’s eyes flick down to the notebook you’re pressing against your midriff again. While your shirt only reveals a sliver of skin, Jake can already picture how the metal spirals would leave an imprint on your stomach based on how tightly it’s tucked against your body. You’re gripping it as if someone has plans to steal it from you.

He frowns a bit. “Stop that.”

In saying that, Jake pries the book from you with little effort, your fingers instinctively loosen once his large hands hover over yours. His chest tingles in surprise at how compliant you’re being. It’s a lapse in thought, but Jake wishes Kendall was here to witness this—to witness how cute you’re acting as his girlfriend.

With the notebook now secured under his armpit, Jake presses his palm to your stomach in its place, applying just the right amount of pressure to relieve your pain. “You gonna be okay tonight?” He asks, leaning against the wall.

You swallow hard—unsure if the goosebumps rippling across your exposed skin was brought on by his mention of the party or by the practiced gesture. “I—Yeah. Think I just ate something bad,” you blink up at him, doe-eyed and neck craning from the height difference.

Jake’s mouth twitches, unable to hide his amusement for your sudden shyness. Moving off the wall, he rolls back his shoulders to stand up straight—all while keeping eye contact with you.

With his palm still on your stomach, Jake skillfully guides his hand over to your waist, using it as an anchor to flip you around. Then, he returns his hand back to its original position, palming over your ache again as he draws you in—pressing your back to his front. The bookbag he took from you jostles, jerking around the charms you had hooked onto the zippers at the final move.

Jake then shuffles forward with you in his arms, forcing you to take uncoordinated steps with him. All that leaves your mouth is a surprised yelp, making a few head turn in your direction. “Jake we–we can’t walk back like this,” you squeak, slapping your hands over your face. You can already feel your cheeks burn up from embarrassment.

“Oh yeah?” He teases, wetting his lips. Despite the first few unsteady steps, Jake is still mindful of your stomach ache, maintaining a firm pressure there with his hand.

After learning that he could fully knock you over with a simple high five over the summer, Jake made sure to be extra careful with you, because if he wasn’t—your dad will knock him over, with a high-five, to the face.

You decide, right in this moment, that this had to be the most mortifying thing Jake’s pulled so far—there was no need to uncover your eyes to see how ridiculous this looks. The sound of both of your shoes scuffing the floors of the crowded lecture hall was enough to create a mental image to flash in your mind.

You’re so sure that you both resemble a pair of waddling penguins—specifically the ones you used to visit at the zoo instead of going to class, back in highschool.

After his morning swim practice, Jake would show up to your locker, hair still damp from the pool and a crunched duffel bag slung over his team hoodie—eager to leave before class even ensued. And who were you to say no to an impromptu day-trip? Especially when your best friend was just so convincing. Seventeen year old Jake always pledged, we’ll get back in time for third period—but you’d spend hours seated in front of the exhibit, watching your favorite set of penguins waddle around on a slab of ice, and calling dibs on which penguin you each were.

And for some reason, the strange comparison makes your head spin. You and Jake, a pair of penguins, bonded for life, sneakers squeaking against the floors, and heading towards your apartment together. With that, an unfamiliar sensation begins to form in the pit of your stomach. It merges right into the existing pain you had there—making it difficult to discern. The only thing you registered from the sensation was that it felt oddly familiar.

But you can’t put any more attention to it, as Jake’s foot clumsily knocks into your ankle.

The offender tips his head down, a smirk playing on his lips, ready to relish in your flustered response to him—but you’re hiding behind your hands, walking blindly with his guidance. “Oh come on,” he coos. “Quit covering that pretty face of yours. You shy or somethin’?” You almost lose your footing, feeling his chest rumble behind you as he speaks.

“Jacob—You can’t—,” you stammer, unable to spit out a response.

All your stuttered sentence does is pull a bass-like noise from his throat, one that signifies that he’s enjoying this.

It comes as no surprise, but Jake had always loved seeking reactions from you. A part of him knows it’s a tad bit cruel to do so, but another part of him tells to do it anyway.

Sometimes, Jake is undoubtedly sure that he was just born with the life purpose to make you squirm—because why else would it be so satisfying? And it’s not like he got away with it growing up either. His mom made sure to give him an earful whenever he did shit like this—but he took the punishment regardless. And it’s a good thing Mrs. Seresin’s not here to see this, because she would’ve given him more than just a scolding for how fiendish he’s being with you right now.

Biting his lip with finality, Jake puts an end to his teasing—for now. Because, his mom would kill him—like really kill him for your sake. You’d always been more of a daughter to her in that sense.

He hums, choosing to redirect his focus, leading your entwined bodies towards the building’s exit. “Let’s get you something for this, Yeah?” He rubs your stomach in a circular motion, hoping it would simmer your humiliation.

“...Okay,” you concede, still blinded by your own hands.

While plodding down the hall, with more coordination this time, Jake catches a pair of girls fawning over you two—secretly snapping a few pictures as they whisper to each other. He chooses to ignore it, but his ears slightly flush pink, overhearing them chatter about how you two needed to get married.

Feigning ignorance, Jake looks down—watching your footsteps sync up with his, your steps are akin to a waddle. And the memory of those penguins crosses his mind, making Jake forget about Kendall—and about his plans to find her tonight. For a brief moment, his mind is full of just you.

Then, it pulls back to the girl he’s been plagued by, with the self reminder that he needs to stay on track.

For the past week, the boyfriend-girlfriend routine came easier to Jake than it does to you. The only contribution you’ve made so far was barely kissing him in the library, and confirming to girls whom you’ve never spoken to before that Jake Seresin was in fact, your boyfriend. The constant questioning rooted from genuine curiosity, you knew that. But, a part of you shrinks at every inquiry you receive. Thinking back on Jake and Kendall, you distinctly remember the exalt she got on their relationship, there was never skepticism there. So, why are you garnering suspicion, when she never did?

Your inclination to overthink tells you that maybe because it’s just you. That maybe, it’s so hard to believe because you don’t know how to act like a girlfriend. But you can’t help but to feel stupid for struggling with this. All you had to do was suck it up, and act like someone Jake would date. Someone who people actually looked twice at, someone who had more friends than she could count on one hand, and someone people actually caught wind of.

You needed to be someone Kendall could be neck-to-neck with. Yet, everytime you did try to take initiative, you backtrack once Jake starts to play into it even though you had the knowledge that he would.

And unlike you, Jake’s doing everything he can to keep up the act, and more. If your classes don't clash with his schedule, he’s dropping you off and picking you up right after, carrying your things for you, throwing in flirty comments for eavesdroppers to pick up on, and pulling you close when people come up to him for some small talk. It doesn’t steer away from what you’re used to, besides a tid-bit of bragging—because this is exactly how your previous boyfriends acted with you.

It was something you chose to keep to yourself, but you secretly hated it—they were so sweet, but so boring. But for some reason, when it comes from Jake, it’s like you’re sixteen all over again. It’s when Jake casually moves you to walk on the inner part of the sidewalk, keeping you away from cars—that you feel like the version of yourself that has a debilitating crush on her best-friend, romanticizing every little thing that he does.

And it certainly didn’t help that Jake’s always reaching to touch you in every way he could think of now. If you accidentally walk a bit ahead of him, his hand will casually slip up the back of the sweater he bought you and travel over to your waist just to pull you beside him. Sure, he’s naturally touchy with you, but never to this extent. It made you begin to wonder if this is how he acted with Kendall when you weren’t around to see, or if he's just over exaggerating to sell this. He’s even starting to do it at home, when there’s not a single onlooker.

“Is this…really necessary?”

Jake had thrown you onto the kitchen counter, placing himself in a convenient spot between the crack of your legs. And even in this position, he manages to tower over you still. “What? Me taking care of you?” Jake asks, rolling two pain relievers between his fingers tips, wondering if it could melt from the warmth he’s creating.

“We’re home—you don’t,” you pause, sensing you’re about to stammer. Taking a deep breath, you give it a second shot. “You don’t have to do it this way,” you mumble bashfully.

In response, Jake gives you a lazy shrug, continuing to play dumb. “Dunno what you’re talking ‘bout.” But the smirk he’s wearing is a dead giveaway, that he knows exactly what you’re ‘talking ‘bout’.

“Now. Open wide,” he sings mockingly, holding two tylenols between his thumb and pointer, lifting it up to your lips.

Annoyance starts to sink in, but before you can show any sign of it—you suddenly wince, feeling your stomach twist again. At that, Jake’s expression falls with guilt, knowing he’s delaying you from taking the painkillers.

“Jake. Not right now,” your voice drops, and so does your shoulders.

“Okay. Not right now,” he mumbles back to you.

It’s like a flip is switched, he maneuvers with clear purpose now. After dropping the two tylenols into the palm of your hand, Jake reaches for the glass of water beside you, as you toss the tablets into your mouth. Taking the water from him, Jake cups a hand under your chin to catch any leaks as you chase it down, eyes softening as you finish it off.

It comes as a mystery to everyone, even to Jake—at how you had the innate ability to just turn him off. It’s a side of him that no one really sees unless they’re watching him interact with you.

Setting the empty cup aside, you sigh. “I don’t think I ate something bad,” you share, wiping away a droplet of water that hung from your lips. Jake’s eyes slowly settle on your face. “Is that right?” He mirrors your soft tone.

“Think I’m just nervous,” you profess, referring to tonight’s party.

It’s not like you didn’t attend parties, you went to plenty—in highschool. It was easier to stomach the idea of spending the night out with people you grew up with, it was just a plus that you had Jake there too. And at that stage in life, everyone was equally as naive and unassuming, so it wasn’t daunting to know you had parties you were invited to. But this party—the one where you didn’t know the first and last names of every attendee, has been looming over your head for days now. Did they only try thc-treats within the last year like you have? Was their first pull of a vape just as disappointing as they thought it was?

“How about this,” Jake wets his lips, an idea forming in his head. “You wear my hoodie tonight, and I’ll take care of it,” Jake tucks his bottom lip under his teeth, holding back a growing smile.

His solution is so dumb, but it’s dumb enough to make you lightly laugh, putting an end to your stream of apprehension.

You shake your head, smiling at the lame offer. “Right, cause the pheromones wafting off that stinky thing is gonna heal me.”

“Hm,” Jake pretends to give it some serious thought. “Yeah, actually.” Unable to contain his smile, Jake’s lips curl upwards. “You know what else it’ll do?” He prompts you to ask why, with an all teasing glint in his eyes.

Your head tilts, wondering what he’s up to. “What will it do?”

“It makes sure everyone knows you're mine,” he finally answers, waiting for your reaction to load in.

You scoff, lightly hitting his chest. “You’re so unserious, Jacob,” you complain, hoping your embarrassment isn’t showing.

“No,” he’s still smug. “I can be very serious if my girl asks me to,” he moves in closer, pelvis hitting the edge of the counter.

In an attempt to create some distance, you fold your arms over your chest, but Jake’s hoodie brushes against your forearms once before he fully rests the fabric onto you.

You clear your throat, looking off to the side. You were a girl after all, any normal girl your age would be nervous if a guy had them caged in like this—it doesn’t matter if he’s your best friend or not. “You’re annoying, you know that?” Your voice comes out smaller—weaker than you intended.

There’s a bout of silence that falls onto the conversation, leaving you two to linger off in your own heads for a bit.

Jake glosses over what you say, with a thin veil of seriousness coating his tone. “Tell me you’ll wear it.”

You swallow thickly at the idea of you showing up in Jake’s hoodie. The hoodie you bought for him last Christmas. The hoodie that he let no one near, not even Kendall. Jake knew better not to give his stuff away to girlfriends, seeing that it’ll never be returned to him. That was something he learned the hard way when he lost his favorite t-shirts to a few exes.

So Jake giving you his hoodie was a big deal. So much of a big deal that it’ll help you get one step closer to the pedestal Kendall sits on—and that's the push you needed to say yes.

“...I’ll wear it.”

This environment is one that Jake’s all too familiar with. There’s red solo cups strewn across the front lawn, stretching into the house, and finally spilling into the backyard. Some of the discarded cups are even decorated into the freshly trimmed bushes, resembling a sprinkle of red flowers.

And not far off, the sound of his former frat brother’s roaring chants towards freshman they’ve coerced into chugging beer kegs can be heard amongst the overlap of drunken conversations being held around him. From where he stands, Jake’s nose wrinkles from the nasuseating whiff he gets of somebody’s body odor. Maybe it’s the two beers he pre-gamed with, but his brain can’t process that he’s actually here. Truthfully, Jake didn't think he’d ever be able to experience this again, as unappealing as it might sound—he missed it.

Javy hadn’t been the most understanding, when Jake dropped the bomb on him last semester that he’s moving out. He only recently realized that maybe Javy was so pissed because Jake couldn’t offer him a clear reason for his resignation. Just like how Kendall couldn’t give him the time of day before ditching him for some fucking loser.

After their breakup, she disregarded Jake like he was some tiny tank top she didn’t like in her closet, throwing it to the side, opting for one she liked better. So, when Jake went off to grab you a drink, he wasn’t ready to be faced with her again. He knew she’d be here, he knew for an entire week long actually. Jake just didn’t expect to see her right as he left your side.

When he snuck out to the far end of the house, sliding back the screen doors leading into the yard, Jake meant to grab you one drink. But as soon as he reached the outdoor table, littered with an array of hard seltzers—Jake stomach ruptures at who stands there, forgetting about his task to fetch you something. Her eyes are skimming over the different flavors, fingering the loop of her denim skirt. And when he thought she couldn’t get any more beautiful, she did.

Jake hates this. He fucking hates that his body reacts her like this. He also hates that he’s unable to stay mad at her. His build up of heartbreak is pathetically dropped at the sight of her. It’s like he’s seeing her for the very first time, the pretty girl who renders him breathless.

But it’s quick to die once he approaches her, tangling himself in a growing argument.

“Jake, I—seriously,” she pauses, weary as she scans the backyard for any sign of her boyfriend. “I don’t have time for this,” she crosses her arms against her front, clenching her jaw. “Austin’s about to pull up, and he’ll kill you if he catches us together,” her usually sweet voice is lined with agitation.

Jake shakes his head in disbelief, laughing at her useless warning. “I don’t give two shits about what he’s gonna do to me, Kenny.” The nickname slips out of his mouth so easily, that it makes it difficult for him to not think back on his favorite memories with her.

“Jacob, we can talk another—”

“One second you’re telling me you love me. Telling me that you would marry me someday,” his voice drops into a harsh whisper. “And the next you’re telling me I can’t be seen with you?” A hurt expression takes hold of his face, and Kendall falters.

What Jake said wasn’t exactly a lie, because she did mean it. It slipped her mouth in a drunken conversation they had right in the house behind them. Kendall said it mindlessly, not thinking that it’ll stick with him—but it did.

Before she even realizes it, she gives in. “You think this is easy for me?” She turns her back to Jake for a brief second, paranoid that her boyfriend might be here already. The familiar gesture reels Jake’s mind back to you amidst the conversation—you did that when you were annoyed with him.

Kendall faces Jake again at the confirmation that Austin hasn’t arrived yet, “Jake…you know how hard—” She catches the blond looking past her.

“Oh my fucking god. Of course!” She yells, throwing her arms up in the air, bringing his focus back to the conversation. Kendall barely spared him enough time to actually find you amongst the sea of sweaty bodies blocking the screen door.

“You still can’t pay attention to me. And you wonder why we had problems?” There’s a tinge of hurt in her voice, but she quickly swallows it back.

“Jacob. You have a new girlfriend for fucks sake, and you’re over here begging me to talk to you. Is she even okay with this?” She spits, steering him away from her previous accusation. In front of him, she’s breathless, exhausted, fed up with him—with this.

Jake stills at her statement. ‘Is she even okay with this?’ Because of course you would be, wouldn't you? If you knew that he was here in the backyard, talking to her, you’d be okay waiting on your own. You’d want this for him. If you didn’t want this—if you didn’t want him to win her back, you wouldn’t have agreed to help him.

Getting lost in his thoughts, Jake loses his chance—he takes too long to reply. “You know what? Fuck this,” her tone is venomous now, a blend of bitterness and resentment.

Jake flinches at her words, regretting his search for you. “Talk to me when you learn how to treat a girl right,” she grits, finally. With her closing statement being said, Kendall moves past him, shoulder knocking into his arm with full force.

Fuck.

Jake’s body seems to move on his own, steering him towards the beer kegs, driven by her words.

Talk to me when you learn how to treat a girl right.

As pathetic as it was, it didn’t take long for your stomach to start up again once Jake left your side, though he promised you he’ll be back.

But with divine timing, Bradley appeared in front of you like your fairy godmother not a second after. He’d possibly kill Jake in replacement for you at the comparison, but it was true. You blinked just once, and your college aged fairy godmother was there. But instead of a glittery cloak shrouding her shoulders, she had on a pitch black t-shirt. And instead of a dainty little wand floating in her hands, she had the back of Bob’s hoodie fisted between her large knuckles, almost lifting the blond off the ground.

After that, he communicated to you with a grunt to follow him and Bob along to the front of the house. You had flinched when he nearly growled at you for not getting the hint to stay ahead of him, so he could ensure you wouldn’t escape. The three of you barely made it out the front door together before Bradley scared away the three puny freshmen occupying the stone steps. They were already halfway across the lawn from just sensing Bradley’s dark energy, casting onto their backs.

With a shrug of his shoulders, and an accidental yank at Bob from the movement, Bradley led you to the steps. The hoodie swallowing your figure should be enough to keep you warm from the dropping temperatures, Bradley surmised to himself.

None of you spoke a word to each other as Bradley silently suggested that you and Bob should sit down in the space he cleared. And right as Bob gathered enough courage to put a question forward, Bradley kind of smiled at you two and left. He just showed you both what it looked like when Bradley Bradshaw isn’t on the verge of killing someone, and he dipped like it was nothing.

You and Bob had gone through different stages of revelation at the rare sight. At first you two gaped at each other in disbelief, then you entered a stage of denial together, and following that you both confirmed that Bradley actually fucking smiled. To anyone else, you two might have been labeled for having low standards to moved by his little smile, that could, probably use a bit more practice—but at the end of the day it was a smile from Bradley Bradshaw.

“Just to preface, I don’t have my degree yet. But it does sound like an anxiety-induced stomach ache to me.” Bob offers with a small smile, still thinking on Bradley’s gesture.

Since you just had a life-altering experience with Bob, conversation began to flow easier between you two and this was only the second time you’ve ever spoken to him.

You purse your lips in curiosity. “Have you learned about a solution for it yet?”

Bob hadn’t actually browsed through that part of the textbook, but he wished he had now. It could be that his empathy was way too high for an average person, but Bob's own stomach started to hurt from your explanation of the pain you were feeling.

“I–I’m really sorry, but no. I’ll definitely let you know once I do find out though.” And Bob intends to fulfill that promise, in fact he’ll download the electronic version of his textbook after this conversation so he could help you out for the future.

“But, uhm,” he hesitantly puts out his cup towards you, “It’s ginger ale, I haven't even touched it yet I swear. And I’m not saying you should take it. Girls should never really take drinks from anyone, actually. I just–I’m just offering, you have the right to say no.” Bob clamps his mouth shut, stopping himself from saying any more.

You peer into the cup, eyeing the liquid sloshing in there before curling your fingers around the solo cup. The tightness in Bob’s shoulders finally lets up once you offer him a reassuring smile.

A comfortable silence rests over the exchange, with you taking small sips from Bob’s drink as he stuffs his hands into his hoodie pocket. You two linger in the moment, quietly appreciating Bradley for pulling you both away from the chaos that’s going on inside the house.

Again, you bring the rim of the cup to your lips, but once the sleeve of your hoodie hits your chin—you suddenly still, which catches Bob’s attention. It somehow slipped your mind that you showed up wearing Jake’s hoodie—your supposed boyfriend, who you haven't seen in the last hour.

“Oh god,” you whisper in realization. “I–I have to go. It was really nice talking to you Bob–like actually. I just,” you’re scrambling to stand up, going light headed from rising to your feet so quickly. Bob lightly laughs, looking up at you. “Don’t worry. I’ll see you in class,” he gives you a single nod, ensuring you that it’s okay.

Storing his assurance to the back of your mind, you go shooting through the doors. The warmth inside the house is a sharp contrast to the biting breeze outside, sending a shiver down your spine. Everyone around you downed more drinks than you have tonight, they knock into you while you struggle to navigate through the living area. As you try to recall the interior of the house—from being here last week, one guy bumps you into a wobbly table, shaking the plates of party snacks on it.

Not wanting to draw attention to yourself, you reach a hand out to still the foldable table by its edge. Then, you take a moment, blinking down at one plate in particular. On it, there’s a load of plastic baggies containing brightly colored gummies, which you assume to be edibles.

Almost as a signal, your stomach cramps again—urging you to grab one for yourself, so you do. You whip your head left and right before doing so. It’s for everyone right?

With the ziplock baggie safely tucked into your back pocket, you resume your desperate search for Jake. But, you hardly have to take another step, because Jake is already drawing towards you, feet heavy as he drags them across the floor.

His chest buzzes, light warmth scattering through his ribs as he comes to a slow stop behind you. And maybe it’s because he’s done it so many times, but Jake’s fingers mindlessly curl around your waist, right under his hoodie. And like earlier in the day, he flips you around, reveling in goosebumps he’s brought on.

Jake watches through half lidded eyes as you blink repeatedly at his chest. Acknowledging the large hand hugging your bare waist, you swallow so hard, you cough up a bit—before tentatively lifting your head, to meet the owner of said hand.

“Oh.” It’s just Jake.

It’s just Jake who’s staring down at you, with something unfamiliar pooling in his eyes. It’s just Jake whose fingers lightly squeeze your waist, again. It’s just Jake, you remind yourself.

You blink again, eyes wide and glossy underneath him. From this angle, you note the light flush tinting his cheeks. Then, your eyes run across his features, trying to get a read on the unfamiliar expression he’s wearing, and it seems like he’s doing the same.

Hearing a crunch, you both gaze over to the cup in your hands. It takes a moment for you to even realize that it’s your fingers that’s currently wrapped around the solo cup.

The sight of the crinkled plastic under your nails makes a voice ring out in Jake’s head. You still can’t pay attention to me. And you wonder why we had problems? Kendall’s right. That’s why she broke up with him, he let so much shit fly over his head—It’s no wonder why she had a backup plan after she dumped him. Jake didn’t even pay enough attention to realize some guy was under his nose the whole time, giving his girlfriend attention when he wasn’t.

And it’s happened again. While Jake was blindly walking around the party, with nothing but Kendall in mind—someone got you a fucking drink. Someone who isn’t him.

Talk to me when you learn how to treat a girl right.

Jake’s body reacts before his brain gets the chance to. Your breath hitches in your throat, watching him swat the cup out of your hand, forcing it to splatter against the wall, and fall flat to the ground with a clink.

Jake knows his limits, maybe too well for that matter. Right now, he’s slightly buzzed at best—he knows he is from his need to prove Kendall wrong. He knows from the way he moves his other hand to your jaw. He knows from the way he wants to get the remnants of that drink out of your mouth. He knows from the way he dips his head down to do it.

Jake feels like he’s sixteen again, kissing his best-friend, barely drunk.

With his hand on your waist, he steadies you, fingers digging into your flesh as you stumble backwards. Satisfaction washes over him, feeling you eagerly slot your mouth into his. You’re just as shy as he thought you’d be—you’re kissing him back with a soft intensity, it’s different from what he’s used to. And as your lips part again, Jake’s mouth tingles at the sensation.

Talk to me when you learn how to treat a girl right.

Not knowing what to do with your hands, you fist the front of his shirt with one, while the other reaches for the nape of his neck. Feeling your fingers hesitantly scratch at the baby hairs sitting there, Jake’s spurred on to pull a reaction out of you. A sudden need burns into his chest, telling him to make you feel brainless.

But you already do.

Because in his arms, your body is going haywire, legs succumbing to jelly, but Jake holds you still, delving his tongue in your mouth—exploring it, draining that ginger-ale lingering there. And it’s like you’re on overdrive, the dull music playing in the back dies out from the sound of your heartbeat in your ears, and your lungs burn from holding your breath.

With your jaw going slack in his hand, Jake knows you need to catch your breath, because he finally pulls away, lips twitching as he does so.

Jake’s darkened eyes lift open, observing the string of saliva between your mouths, mesmerized by the way it breaks from the distance and settles to glisten on your lips. With his hand on the line of your jaw, Jake extends a thumb to swipe away the shine he produced.

You’re breathless, chest rising up and down underneath his hoodie—mind still processing the practiced kiss.

“W-was she looking?”

Jake’s brows furrow, but he conceals it before you catch it. Thumbing over your bottom lip, Jake’s mind is half with you and half somewhere else.

He hums, mindlessly assuring you. “Mhm. Did such a good job for me, Princess.”

note: she is lengthy, but it's because i wont be able to update for the next two weeks, due to finals week D: but putting that aside, thank you for reading! and as always, reblogs are greatly appreciated.

join the taglist for this series here or follow me on @waklman-library and turn on notifs to be notified when i post!

tags: @wkndwlff @bubblegumbeautyqueen @averyhotchner @angeliccks @atarmychick007 @Olivia21blunt @s-u-t @hangmanscoming @dempy @geraltsaxii @angelbabyange @milani-marie @blueoorchid @soapysoaply @mamaskillerqueen @blue-aconite @shanimallina87 @wildxwidow @clancycucumber230 @emma8895eb @ohgodnotagainn @starlightstories @bbyvanessaa @scoopsr0bin @mannsachds @strokesofstokes @magicstrengthandcourage @desert-fern @coconut152 @moonlight-addisyn @mosiwil @ronanallisterswife @s0uz4s @amandato300 @bradswolfe @swiftsgirlfriend @mikkorantanev @brookiecookiez0 @scarlovesyou @hisredheadedgoddess28 @sushiwriterhere @ccristata @nervousmumbling @acarboni21 @maddievevo @chimchimjiminie16

#jake seresin fic #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin au #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x you #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x y/n #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction #jake seresin angst #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin #fake it

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cryoculus · 1 year

Text

— imagine being loved by me! ⟢

pairing: xiao | alatus x reader

summary: the one where your best friend gives you ten tattoos over the next ten years. the problem? you fall deeper in love each time the ink stains your skin.

word count: 7.1k words

tags: modern au, tattoo artist!xiao, childhood friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, relationship study, non-explicit smut

warnings: emotionally stunted xiao but i fink everyone knows that already, mentions of needles, there's smut but it isn't detailed

notes: this blog's been dead for Months but i thought i'd revive it with this fic that my beloved @delvalentine commissioned me to make! i love u to DEATH, v, i hope i did your requests justice :')

header art cr: yuca7302 on twt

01.

“Ow, fuck! Can you be more careful?!”

“I am careful. You just have a shitty pain tolerance.”

“Wow, that’s not something you should say to your first willing client,” you huff, trying not to pull away as Xiao repeatedly punctures the skin of your forearm with pen ink and a not-so-sterile sewing needle. “My family could sue you if I die from a blood infection, you know.”

Xiao rolls his eyes. “Something this small won’t kill anyone. Plus, you came here on your own volition, so stop complaining.”

“Are you saying you’re just going to let me die of sepsis if everything goes to shit?”

“Pretty much.”

You didn’t know what to expect when your best friend of several years asked if you wanted a tattoo of your favorite constellation. It’s been a running joke between the both of you that the two moles on your forearm looked a lot like two-thirds of Orion’s belt, and that maybe, in another life, you would’ve been born with all three of its stars on your skin.

You should’ve known that Xiao likes to blow your expectations out of the water—whether he intends to do so or not.

It’s sundown when he finishes embedding black pen ink beneath your slightly inflamed skin. Xiao doesn’t comment when you repeatedly complain about how much that fucking hurt, and that you’re never agreeing to do it again, but you don’t miss the way his eyes occasionally flit up to the starry sky before shifting to your new ‘tattoo’ as he walks you home.

You don’t think you’ll ever forget that night. How you admired the amateur handiwork in the soft glow of your nightlight while thinking about the boy who gave you a star fashioned with his own fingers where others would’ve given flowers instead.

But then you remember Xiao is nothing but your best friend, and it’s a little…weird to be thinking about him like that.

Must be the sepsis fucking with my head, you muse before flicking off your nightlight, and the room is plunged into pitch black darkness.

02.

You’re eighteen when you realize Xiao is completely serious about this tattooing business.

It comes as a not-so-pleasant surprise to you one day when your high school’s guidance counselor approaches you while you’re hurrying over to your next class—asking if you’ve seen Xiao around these days because apparently, your best friend hasn’t been attending his classes for a better part of the semester.

Of course, you receive the news with a scowl. While you don’t exactly see him all that much at school because of how different your schedules are, you never expected to find out he’s been playing hooky all this time.

You don’t particularly like sticking your nose into other people’s business—especially not Xiao’s, since you know how he likes to keep to himself better than most. But for some reason, you aren’t able to resist, and end up calling him after excusing yourself from your two-hour Biology lecture.

Once your classes are done, you head over to a nearby tattoo parlor whose address Xiao texted to you right after you squeezed his whereabouts out of him during that phone call. It’s located in one of the more run-down parts of town that your parents would’ve detested Xiao for inviting you to. But whatever prejudice you might’ve had about the denizens of this district all go up in smoke once you meet the owner herself.

“You should’a seen Xiao practicing with our machines a few months ago!” Beidou, as Xiao had sheepishly introduced earlier, barks out a laugh before slinging an arm around your best friend’s shoulders. “Said there’s someone he wanted to give permanent tatts to. I’m guessing you’re the guest of honor?”

“Beidou,” Xiao groans. “It’s not a big deal. I already practiced on her before.”

You don’t completely catch it when Beidou makes an inappropriate joke as a response to what Xiao just said—eyes trained on the fading dot on your forearm. It’s been two years since Xiao gave you your first ‘tattoo’, and even if the receding ink makes it look like one of Orion’s stars are starting to die out, it’s still there.

“Okay,” you say in the middle of their bickering, startling both Xiao and Beidou in the process. “I’ll let him ink me if he wants to.”

Xiao stares at you with brows furrowed. “You sure?”

No, you’re not sure because as much as you want to support Xiao in what seems to be a budding passion of his, you’re certain that your father is going to kill you when he sees a full-blown tattoo on any part of your body. You barely got away with the artificial mole that Xiao did for you a few years back.

“Positive.” You back your words up with an indignant huff before sifting through the pre-made designs on Beidou’s catalog. “You just have to put it somewhere not everyone can see, I guess.”

Beidou snorts out another jarring laugh when Xiao clicks his tongue to alleviate the embarrassment that’s painting his face just a touch of red.

Earlier in the day, you intended to scold your best friend for not taking his studies seriously, but ended up going home that day with a new piece inked onto the skin of your left hip: a little spruce twig that you last remember seeing in your old hometown—years before you even met Xiao.

There’s no particular meaning behind it, apart from a hint of sentimentality and rebelliousness. It’s your first actual tattoo, and one of your best friends gave it to you, free of charge. Even if it hurts ten times more than Xiao’s novice needle method from two years ago, you end up loving it more than you thought. One time, you stare at Xiao’s intricate handiwork in the mirror for so long that you nearly run late for your first class of the day.

(Another thing that makes this particular piece memorable is the process itself.

Xiao is a person who’s always been startlingly precise in everything he decides to put his head into. When you learned that he wanted to become a tattoo artist, you instantly felt like there’s no other path more perfect for him than this.

Yet you couldn’t help but notice how his fingers sometimes trembled as he gave you your first piece—with you lying chest-down on Beidou’s tattoo chair in nothing but your shirt and underwear. It shouldn’t have been strange. Xiao has seen you dressed down like this dozens of times before.

But when all’s said and done, he refused to meet your eyes, and you don’t have the slightest clue why.)

03.

You just can’t stop staring when you see Xiao’s half-sleeve for the first time.

It’s meant to be a phoenix, he said, but you can’t really see it because the patterns are too abstract to make sense of. Still, the azure ink sits nicely on top of his built bicep, and you have to tell yourself that you’re just trying to find the stupid phoenix as an excuse to keep ogling him.

Thankfully, your weird fascination lasts for only about a week until you’re back to shitting on him like you always do.

By some miracle, Xiao manages to graduate high school despite being on probation from his excessive absences. He’s actually smart if he makes the effort to hit the books, but you’re not sure if he’s planning on going to college with how comfortable he is with being one of Beidou’s most in-demand tattoo artists.

You ask him about his future plans at a party being thrown by the previous captain of the football team in his parents’ lavish penthouse somewhere uptown. It took a great deal to force Xiao into tagging along with you as your plus one, and you’re going to make good on his acquiescence by interrogating him about things he normally skirts around.

“I told you, I didn’t take any entrance exams,” he grumbles against the rim of his red cup. “I’m managing just fine working for Beidou, so I don’t see any reason to go to college.”

You’re about to argue that Beidou’s tattoo parlor won’t be open forever, and that he needs to think about broadening his career options until a bunch of girls with linked arms shuffle closer to where you and Xiao were lounging on the couch. You don’t talk to them a lot, but everyone in your grade knows the infamous Pyro Trio.

“Hey, Xiaooo,” Hu Tao drawls with a smirk, pushing up her sleeve to reveal the branches of a cherry blossom tattooed on the delicate skin of her arm. Behind her, Xiangling and Xinyan snicker like it’s some sort of inside joke.

You intend to shift your gaze elsewhere. Clearly, you’re not the person these girls want to speak with. But the sight of the ink on Hu Tao’s skin makes the back of your neck prickle with misplaced irritation. Xiao must’ve been the one who did her piece, which shouldn’t be a surprise. Though he’s this year’s most notable absentee, rumors about Xiao’s handiwork haven’t gone unnoticed among the students in your (now) alma mater.

That doesn’t mean you have to like the idea of your best friend inking other people that aren't you, though.

You decide to excuse yourself from Xiao’s company—given that Hu Tao is giving him plenty of attention already as is. Your best friend utters something you don’t quite catch as you walk away, and you don’t bother turning around to ask him to repeat himself.

(As you stuff your face with shot after shot, you force yourself to just keep dancing to the rhythm of whatever song is blaring to the speakers. You didn’t give two shits about the fact that Hu Tao keeps feeling up the stupid phoenix tattoo on Xiao’s arm. Nor did you care about the fact that your best friend—who’s normally evasive when it comes to casual contact—seems like he doesn’t mind at all.)

The night ends with Xiao begrudgingly getting behind the wheel of your car, since you’re obviously in no state to be driving anyone home. When he announces that he’ll bring you back to your apartment, you slur out a drunken protest—asking if he can take you to the tattoo parlor instead.

“What?” he asks incredulously. “Why?”

You huff, curling in on yourself on the passenger seat. “The cherry blossoms you gave Hu Tao were ugly as shit. You can do a better piece on me. Y’know, as practice.”

Both of you know that you’re bluffing. Xiao’s pieces are one of the most intricate you’ve ever seen, even if he is a rookie tattoo artist, and that you don’t have a lot of points of reference to compare to. But instead of taking offense at your mindless jab at his work, Xiao slots the keys into the ignition with a defeated sigh.

“Fine. You mentioned wanting spider lilies a while back,” he says before propping his arm against the car seat as he backed up on the street. It’s the perfect angle to moon over his not-so-phoenix tattoo, and if you were any more intoxicated, you would’ve reached out and squeezed his arm.

“Where do you want it?”

You know he meant to ask where you wanted him to put your prospective tattoo, but the question sends your mind straight into the gutter. Thankfully, you still have some semblance of coherence lingering in your drunk thoughts, and you answer with:

“Right hip. Opposite end of the spruce twig.”

When Xiao heaves another sigh and steps on the gas pedal, you don’t think much of it—still convinced it’s completely normal to expose such intimate parts of yourself to your best friend so he can tattoo a fucking flower just above the swell of your thigh.

04.

“You have been watching way too much anime.”

“Come on! At least I’m not having you tattoo the names of my shitty ex-boyfriends on my ass, right? Just give me my modified Tanjiro hanafuda and Fullmetal Alchemist flamel!”

“...Is this your way of coping with taking up a nursing course? Is it that stressful?”

You whine as you hold your phone closer to your ear, already picturing the look of disbelief in Xiao’s face when you asked when he’s free to give you your next tattoos. You still go to college in the same city, but it’s been weeks since you last saw him.

“You have no idea,” you groan. “It’s like my first year, and I’m already burned out! How is that even possible?”

Your best friend grunts on the other line. “Maybe if you stopped being such a perfectionist, then maybe you’ll learn to be more content. Less stress on your part, too.”

“Ah, no can do. I never do anything that isn’t perfect,” you chuckle. “

“Yeah, I saw you score at the top of your class during your, uh… what was it again? Biochem exam?”

For someone who doesn’t exactly give a damn about anything outside tattooing and other similar forms of artistry, you find it endearing to know Xiao actually remembers all the things you rant about in the wee hours of the morning. You don’t hate biochem, but if you have to draw another chemical configuration, you might just pop a vein.

“Okay, let’s say I agree to tattoo those weird doodles you sent,” Xiao propositions, “do you even have any free days? You usually study on weekends, right? I don’t think you’re free to drop by the shop even if you wanted to.”

Fuck. He’s right. You still have a few major exams coming up in the next two weeks. If you wait that long until you get your silly weeaboo tattoos from Xiao, you would’ve already gotten over your momentary hyperfixation on the TV shows that were salvaging your sanity in the middle of the semester. It wouldn’t feel as thrilling to get them anymore.

“I’m free…” You trail off, eyes darting to the digital clock by your desk then to the course notes you have opened on your laptop. You haven’t studied as much as you wanted to for your upcoming anatomy test, but…

“Right now, actually. Can you pick me up?”

You can hear him frowning. “Don’t you have a car?”

“I do, but I don’t wanna drive when I have plastic wrap all over my body.”

“You’re exaggerating. It’s not all over your—”

“Jesus, get the hint, Xiao. I miss my best friend, and I want to have a quiet evening cruise on his motorcycle before he gets me inked again!”

Xiao falls silent, and this time, you’re having some difficulty picturing what expression he’s wearing on his face. You like to think you’ve startled your un-startle-able best friend, but that’s pushing your influence too much.

“Okay,” he says, more agreeable than you thought he’d be. “I’ll be there in thirty. Don’t you dare fall asleep on me.”

05.

When you introduce your first serious boyfriend in a while to Xiao, you’re a bit annoyed with how prickly he’s being.

Sure, it’s wired into his system to be the snarky asshole everyone knows and loves, but if there’s anyone else who knows about the tragedy that is your love life better than yourself, it’s Xiao. When you finally land a decent guy to settle down with, you at least expect him to be a bit more supportive.

“Actually, we came here ‘cause we planned on getting matching tattoos,” your boyfriend, Yin, explains with a dimpled smile. “Isn’t that right?”

You stifle a soft laugh, a bit embarrassed to agree, but too in love with your boyfriend to protest.

A few years ago, you distinctly remember drunkenly rambling to Xiao about how stupid it is to get couple tattoos especially when relationships these days are built on flimsy foundations.

If you break up, what then? You have a physical reminder of that person on your body for eternity? No fucking thanks!

“Sorry, we’re closed right now, as you can see,” Xiao grunts before jabbing his thumb at the sign he just turned at the door. “You can try some other time, though.”

At the time, you were pissed at Xiao for denying your little request. He always agreed to ink you during ungodly hours of the day, but now he’s playing the ‘shop’s closed’ card just because he doesn’t like your boyfriend?

But then, you end up grateful for his attitude exactly a month later.

“Fucking cheated on me with some bitch from his Physics lecture,” you sniffle on Xiao’s ratty sofa as he makes you some tea in his kitchen. “I can’t believe I nearly tattooed our anniversary on my wrist! I would’ve had to fucking amputate it in the end.”

Xiao sighs before placing a piping hot cup of honey lemon in front of you on his coffee table—crossing his legs together. He doesn’t tell you I told you so, like others probably would if they were in his shoes. Your best friend just stares at you with withering understanding, no matter how stupid the choice that got you here in the first place turned out to be.

That’s one of the many things you loved about him.

“You were supposed to have ‘XV’ inked together, right?” he asks.

You huff before tossing some of the soiled tissues you used into the bin. “Yeah. We made it official on September 15th.”

“Well, if you still want the tattoo, you could just give it a different meaning.”

Scowling, you stare at Xiao as if he just grew a second head. “What the hell are you talking about?” Is he really suggesting for you to get the same tattoo that he denied you and your ex a month ago?

Xiao shrugs noncommittally before taking a sip from the tea he prepared for you. “It’s been fifteen years since we became best friends. That’s worth commemorating, at least. Unless you suddenly don’t give a shit about that, too?”

Your jaw hangs agape at the sudden reminder. October 15th. When you were four, you accidentally spilled orange juice all over Xiao’s teletubbies backpack, and when he forgave you on the spot, you crowned him as your first bestie.

That was fifteen years ago. Holy shit.

He startles when you abruptly shoot back to your feet, earning yourself a perplexed stare from Xiao who just wants you to sit down and drink your damn tea—

“Is Beidou’s shop open?” you ask. “I want her to do our matching tatts.”

Xiao grimaces. “Our?”

You nod brusquely, tugging at his arm. “Yeah, I’m allowed to have matching tattoos with you, ‘cause you’ll never walk out of my life, right, Xiao?”

He’s always been a stubborn little shit, so you don’t really expect Xiao to relent as quickly as he does. You nearly stumble to the carpeted floor when he lets you pull him up—faces hovering so close to each other, you nearly choke on your own breath.

It doesn’t help that Xiao has definitely…put in a few inches of height. Back then, you used to tease him a lot for being taller than him, but now?

“Never,” he whispers so softly, you wouldn’t have heard it if you weren't as close to him as you are. “Now drink your stupid honey lemon tea so we can head to the shop.”

About two and a half hours later, you’re sitting on the vacant seats in the shop’s waiting lounge—a familiar sting still sizzling beneath your ribcage from where you had your first matching piece with Xiao permanently inked. You made him swear to have his own ‘XV’ tattoo made on the same place, and he makes good on his promise when he emerges from the workroom, wearing nothing but his dark-washed jeans.

Unlike yourself, you rarely see Xiao in various states of undress. The most skin you could get out of him on most days is the lean muscle of his tattooed biceps, and sometimes those are enough to have you staring dumbly at him for several minutes.

Now, though?

You learn that he has several tattoos on his torso—spread across his skin like patchwork. It makes you wonder if he did some of them himself, or if he had Beidou work on them for him. Still, despite the plethora of new ink stains to gawk at, his weird phoenix tattoo remains as your personal favorite.

Along with the newest piece he got not five minutes earlier—the tattoo he shares with you.

“Are you happy now?” he grumbles, letting you marvel at the perfect roman numerals just below the jut of his ribs. “It’s a good thing Beidou gave it to us free of charge, you know.”

You giggle. “All of my tatts so far have been free of charge.”

“That’s only because you’re special to me,” Xiao sighs before freezing up in the next moment—like he didn’t mean to let that slip aloud.

You smirk. “Mm? What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

“Fuck off.”

06.

Much to Xiao’s disappointment, your shitty taste in men doesn’t exactly end with Yin.

About three months after getting the tattoo to commemorate your fifteen years of best friendship, you meet Kaeya. He’s an exchange student, and you know better than to form any sort of attachment to someone who isn’t going to be in the same continent as you by next year.

But you let him in anyway.

You allow Kaeya to get to know you in ways that not even Xiao is familiar with. The smooth-talking foreigner likes to kiss every single one of your tattoos—lamenting the fact that they’re all inked in spots hidden from view. You laugh every time he brings it up, saying your parents are going to kill you and Xiao if they saw any of the pieces your best friend did for you over the last six years.

“That best friend of yours…” Kaeya muses once he’s done bringing you to paradise and back, smoking a cigarette that makes you wrinkle your nose with distaste. He would’ve been perfect, if only he wasn’t such a chronic chainsmoker. “He’s in love with you, isn’t he?”

You nearly fall off the bed at his bold declaration.

“W-What the fuck are you talking about?” you stammer. Xiao? In love? With you?

Kaeya shrugs. “I dunno, sweetheart. If I was a tattoo artist, I wouldn’t let anyone freeload my craft as many times as you did—even if you are my best friend. Unless I was down fucking bad for you, of course.”

Xiao doesn’t like Kaeya, but the reasoning behind it is a bit different from why he doesn’t like your ex. He knew Yin wasn’t a good match for you. Kaeya, though? The two of you had inarguable chemistry. The only problem was he was a free spirit that didn’t like to be tied down by commitments—something you clearly struggle with.

When you reassured Xiao that Kaeya is nothing but a way to scratch a passing itch, he merely scoffed and told you to do whatever you wanted.

Could his dismissiveness be because…he’s in love with you?

That can’t be right. You’re the one who knows Xiao best. If he hypothetically does catch feelings for someone—much less, you—you’ll surely be the first to notice, right?

Right?

Kaeya chuckles before tracing the XV tattoo along your ribcage with a cold finger—almost like he’s teasing. You roll your eyes before crawling back on top of your midnight lover, kissing him just to shut him up.

When you drop by Beidou's the next day, Xiao is nowhere to be found.

“Didn’t he tell you?” She gapes. “Our boy’s starting his own shop downtown! He had the soft launch and everything a week ago. I was wondering where you were.”

“Uh…”

You’re not sure how to break the news that Xiao has been giving you the cold shoulder ever since you got together with Kaeya. But finding out that he put up his own tattoo parlor without even telling you?

If Kaeya turns out to be right, and your best friend really was in love with you, he sure as hell wasn’t acting like it.

Deciding to play along with whatever game he’s playing, you make an appointment to get a new piece inked under a fake name. Xiao accepts it right away and schedules you for an early evening slot. You make it a point to arrive twenty minutes late just to get a rise out of him.

When he sees you at the entrance to his shop, you almost let yourself feel smug about the unadulterated surprise on his face. Almost. You’re still pissed off that he didn’t invite you to one of the most important milestones of his life.

He fulfills your request in silence—the French word for green inked unassumingly on the underside of your shoulder blades. Xiao doesn’t say a word about his evasiveness, nor does he address the fact that you, his literal best friend, are standing in the shop he’s kept a secret for god knows how long.

When he still refuses to talk, you slam your payment on top of a nearby table—intent on storming out of the building even if he hasn’t wrapped your newest piece in a protective layer of plastic yet. Xiao barks that he doesn’t want your fucking money, and you end up throwing your hands in the air, asking:

“Then what the hell do you want?”

You expected him to blow up in a fitful of rage. He’s never been good at anger management, you knew this well. But instead, he crosses the distance separating the two of you and crushes your mouths together.

“You,” he whispers hoarsely, desperately against your lips. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”

Kaeya calls you multiple times that night—even leaves a text message asking where you are and if you’re free. You aren’t able to answer any of them though. Not when you’re busy being railed into the next life by your best friend of fifteen—going sixteen—years in the same bed that Kaeya just had his way with you a week ago.

When Xiao’s lips graze each and every tattoo he personally inked onto your pliant body, it’s leagues different from when Kaeya does it. It’s like your best friend is leaving a trail of fire sizzling beneath your skin everywhere his mouth trails along your hypersensitive flesh.

Even the way he makes you fall apart from a blistering orgasm is ten times more intense than every session you had with Kaeya and Yin combined.

There’s no affection nor is there adoration in Xiao’s gaze as he fucks into you—golden eyes fueled by something carnal and zealous, but you knew better than to call that love.

When morning comes, Xiao isn’t here with you, and you don’t know which emotion to feel.

Kaeya, at least, has the decency to leave a note whenever he has to depart early. But all that your best friend leaves you with is a sinking feeling in your stomach, and a glaring realization that you did not want to make when you’re crying all alone in your apartment at the crack of dawn.

Kaeya was wrong. Xiao isn’t in love with you.

You’re in love with Xiao, and you immediately know you’re in deep fucking shit because of it.

07.

It’s two weeks into your mission of complete radio silence when Xiao finally breaks.

You’re in the middle of a pharmacology lecture when your phone buzzes in your pocket. You knew it wasn’t Kaeya because he’d already packed his things last week and headed back to his home country. The bastard even asked you for a quick farewell fuck, but you turned him down right away and gave him a kiss goodbye instead.

When you find out it’s a text message from the same person you’ve been trying to avoid all this time, you’re all too quick to parse through its contents.

Xiao: I'm sorry. Can we talk?

That’s how you wind up standing right outside of his new tattoo parlor.

You haven’t been able to take a good look at it the last time you were here—too frustrated with your best friend to really make sense of your surroundings. But he’s put up his new shop in a pretty good part of town. You wonder how Xiao managed to afford it all.

Then again, he’s been working at Beidou’s shop for years. You knew he had a decent number of regulars, as well as potential clients that are highly interested in his work.

For once, you let yourself be proud of him. Even if he didn’t put your name on the guest list for his soft launch.

Xiao looks a little sheepish when he lets you inside and flips the sign on the front door to give the two of you some privacy. You aren’t faring any better. The last time you saw him, he was balls-deep inside of you—fucking you like you’re the most despicable woman in the world.

“So there’s this…collage piece I wanted to try,” he starts, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

Of course when Xiao invites you over to talk, you shouldn’t have expected any actual talking to take place. That’s just not his style. He’d rather make up for whatever mistakes he made by inking another stupid tattoo on your body, but honestly? You’ll take whatever you can get.

When you saw his sketch of a Statue of David peppered with four-leaf clovers, you couldn’t even dream of parsing the meaning behind the piece. The only thing that makes you relent is an old memory of you and Xiao hunting for four-leaf clovers in your mother’s garden—even putting the effort to plant whatever you could find in a pot in hopes that they would grow bigger.

It takes him hours to complete the entire thing. This one is probably the most realistic piece he’s done for you, and you can’t help but watch the intense concentration on his face through the mirror on the wall as he inks it a few inches above the last tattoo he did for you.

You’ve never really realized how…breathtaking he looks like this.

His fringe falling across his pretty gold eyes, the comfortable set of his jaw as he focuses on his work, and the soft slope of his cupid’s bow despite how harsh the words that come out of his mouth can be.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You really are in love with this guy.

When he’s finally satisfied with his work, Xiao puts down his machine before wiping a sheen of sweat off his brow. He already looks so fucking good while he’s working. How is it fair for him to look even more gorgeous right after the entire process?

“Come on, let’s wrap it up,” he says before stretching his limbs. The action makes the cropped shirt he’s wearing ride up his torso a little, and you’re teased with a glimpse of the tattoo he matches with you.

Your heart nearly leaps to your throat, and if it weren’t for the dull sting of your newest tattoo, you would’ve been entranced by the sight of him entirely.

“Sure,” you say, even if your heart is begging for you to just be honest with him. To let him know how you’ve felt all this time because frankly, you can’t keep carrying the weight of your own feelings for much longer.

But then you remember how…apathetic Xiao looked like the night he dared to tell you he wanted you. There was no love to be found in his animalistic gaze, and you fear that he’ll turn you even further away at the slightest hint of more-than-friendly affection from your end.

You can live with this. His fleeting yet heated touches. His deep, piercing stares.

You’ll do anything to preserve what you have with him now—even if that means sacrificing everything else you could still dream of.

08.

Sometimes, you think Xiao is making you hope on purpose.

Sure, your friendship was more or less salvaged after offering your Statue of David tattoo as a quiet apology. You’re back to teasing him for all the most minuscule things, and Xiao is back to being your voice of reason in no time.

These days, though, you don’t really have much time to hang out with him like you usually do. You’re in the last year of your nursing degree, and your shifts at the hospital on top of your regular academic workload render you much too exhausted to catch up with any of your friends. Xiao included.

But there comes a night when he visits you in your apartment when you’re busy studying for a tricky surgery exam—a bucket full of fried chicken, and a bottle of sparkling water in hand. What kind of fiend would turn away an unannounced blessing like that ?

You munch through the midnight snack Xiao brought for you all while forcing him to do your flashcards with you. He knows the drill, anyways. Though he’s been out of school for years, Xiao is still familiar enough with your study habits to be of substantial help during these trying times.

While you’re in the middle of differentiating the different types of sutures, though, he proposes an idea.

“It’s been a while since I inked you with a sewing needle and pen ink, isn’t it?”

You narrow your eyes, taking a swig of your carbonated drink as your gaze flickers to the pseudo-Orion’s belt on your right forearm. The third star has all but faded from view over the years.

“Yeah, why are you asking?”

Xiao rummages through his knapsack for a few seconds before bringing out what seems to be a small sewing kit, and a jar labeled ‘Indian ink’. You gulp in equal parts dread and anticipation.

“I figured out how to make the tatts stay longer,” he says, a gentle smile settling over his face. “You want me to give you a new one? I can even revive good old Orion, too.”

You sigh. Who are you to turn the love of your life down anyway?

Xiao gets to work while you’re lying sideways on your bed, flinching every now and again because he decided to outline the spitting image of the flower vase sitting on top of your nightstand along the curve of your waist.

Unlike your first experience with manual needling, your pain tolerance is much better. The only reason you’re squirming every time Xiao embeds the ink into your skin is because you’re fucking ticklish. All those years of being intimately acquainted with Beidou’s tattoo machine were all the sensory training you needed, it seems.

When Xiao is done with this piece, he pulls you into an upright position, making you hold out your arm so he could resurrect the first tattoo he ever gave you. You roll your eyes, but let him do as he pleases anyway.

At this point, you’ll let him do anything with you.

It’s nearly three in the morning when you’re putting away the dishes and glasses you and Xiao used for the night. He’s kind enough to throw out the trash while you clean up in the kitchen, and when he meets you back in the living room to exchange farewells, you don’t really want him to go.

“You have morning classes tomorrow, right?” he murmurs as he pulls you into a firm embrace, careful not to press down too hard on your new tattoo. “Take care. Don’t burn yourself out too much. All your hard work will be for nothing if you end up keeling over before graduation.”

You can’t help it. The soft timbre of his voice coupled with the fond look in his eyes tears all your defenses asunder. As you look up to meet Xiao’s uncharacteristically doting gaze, your chest twists more and more as you keep yourself from lunging in for a kiss.

“You’re such a pessimist, it’s almost funny how caring you sound,” you chuckle. “Go on, now. Shoo. It’s late.”

Before you can push him out of the door, however, Xiao catches you by surprise when he leans down to peck your lips. You stay frozen in place even as he pulls away—smiling so prettily, you can hardly believe this guy is your perpetually pissed off best friend.

“Good night.”

Unlike the last time he left you all alone in your apartment, you’re filled to the brim with an emotion you can’t quite name. It’s far from the emptiness that made a home in your heart when you thought you were in love with someone who didn’t love you back. But you’re not about to call it happiness either.

Whatever this strange feeling is, you let it sit in your chest for a while longer, and it lingers even when the memory of Xiao’s lips stops prickling against the skin of your own.

09.

On the day of your graduation, Xiao asks you to drop by his shop after the rites have concluded. You tell him that he’s self-centered as fuck, and that this is your day, so if he wants to use your body as a practice canvas again, he’s going to have to wait tomorrow.

You don’t tell him that you’re sulking because he didn’t even show up to congratulate you for surviving four gruesome years of nursing. But you suppose that someone who never went to college in the first place wouldn’t be the best at sympathizing with this particular milestone in your life.

He shows you his latest sketch when you make it to his shop the next morning—and you can’t contain the look of disbelief that colors your features when you realize what it is.

“A bouquet that’ll never wilt,” he chuckles, one finger expertly pointing out the flowers he’s drawn on the neat page. “Orchids and hydrangeas: your favorite. Violets: you press a bunch of these in books every summertime. Pink baby’s breath ‘cause you wouldn’t stop gushing about them at your sister’s wedding.”

You aren’t able to stifle the flattered giggle that spills from your lips. “Can’t believe you actually remember all that. What’s the lily of the valley doing there though?”

“Oh, this?” Xiao hums with one brow raised. “Your mom had lots of them in her old garden. Those are my favorite.”

“And, pray tell, why is your favorite flower going to be permanently tattooed on my body?”

Xiao doesn’t humor you with a verbal answer right away. Instead, he wheels his revolving seat closer to you so that he’s close enough to press your foreheads together. Your breath hitches when his mouth curves into a loving smile you’re starting to get used to seeing.

“Because you’re mine,” he says simply. “Now, are you going to tell me where you want me to ink your eternal bouquet or not?”

10.

You’re a complete sap when it comes to weddings. Everyone knows this.

It’s for that reason that none of your guests are surprised when you end up crying in the middle of exchanging vows with your fiancé. Xiao sighs before taking out a handkerchief from his front pocket, dabbing at the tears streaming down your face. For someone who comes on so tough to other people, you’re awfully sentimental.

“Sorry, sorry—” you sniffle, thanking every single god out there for the invention of waterproof mascara. “Okay, I’m ready now.”

The rest of the session proceeds swiftly. You get to kiss your best friend of more than two decades and call him your husband in front of some friends and family. The matrimonial rites were held in a private resort at the base of a mountain. Both you and Xiao wanted to preserve the intimacy of your wedding as much as you could. After all, you didn’t need all that flashy and grandiose wedding prep to prove to the world just how much you want to spend the rest of your life with Xiao.

Your thoughts stay the same even as he lays you down in the king-sized bed of the cabin you had to yourselves. He sighs in between kisses as he strips you off your wedding garbs. You’re surprised he’s taking his time with you. Xiao has been eye-fucking you since you started walking down the aisle. It was so bad that even Beidou made a few off-hand remarks about the sexual tension during the reception.

“I was thinking,” you breathe as he grinds his hips against yours, “of getting another tattoo. My last one.”

Xiao lifts his head for a moment, one brow arched. “You’re married to a tattoo artist, and you think the tattoo you’re getting after the wedding is your last one? You’re dreaming, princess.”

“Fine. Point taken.” You roll your eyes. “But anyway, I want a dragon tattoo riiiight…here.”

Your husband watches with rapt attention as you guide his hand to the spot you’re talking about—just below the collection of your favorite flowers inked above your waist is a blank stretch of skin. Xiao’s lips twitch into a fond smile as his calloused fingers graze your flesh.

“Still against having showy tatts?” he asks before pressing a soft kiss on the spot you pointed at.

“Mhmm. You see, my dad doesn’t care if I’m married and have my own life. If he sees that I have tattoos, he’s still going to murder me,” you chuckle. “So yeah, tatts are staying under my clothes until he grows old enough and forgets that he hates seeing ink on other people’s skin.”

“I’ll keep that in mind then.”

When Xiao ravishes you for the first time as your husband, your chest overflows with love for him. Not everyone is lucky enough to have their best friends by their sides for as long as you did, yet you ended up tying the knot with yours. Although the entire process was more than twenty years in the making, you suppose there’s no point in rushing anything.

After all, Xiao is as permanent in your life just as much as the ink stains on your body.

“Look,” you chuckle once Xiao is done cleaning up in the bathroom and settles down right next to you on the bed, “Kaeya sent us a postcard. He says congrats on overcoming the emotional constipation.”

“Throw that thing away,” your husband grumbles, pulling you away from the pile of postcards on the nightstand. “Why are you even keeping touch with him still?”

“So I can use him as an excuse to get you jealous, and have you fuck me rough?”

“Oh, princess. If you wanted it rough…” he starts with a sigh, rolling his neck with a smirk. You gulp, wondering if you’ve bitten off more than you can chew this time around.

“All you had to do was ask.”

⟢ end notes: it's been a while since i wrote for genshin, so i hope you liked it! thank you sm for reading ^^

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin smut #genshin xiao #xiao fanfic #xiao smut #xiao x reader #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #cryoculus

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lenafromthenordiccoven · 3 months

Text

Yes, ma'am | Bob Floyd x f!pilot!reader

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x f!Pilot!reader

Requested? no (unless you count my own brain pestering me with this)

Rating: M – MDNI 18+

Word count: 4370

Warnings: Pilot!reader, switch!Bob, switch!reader, light fingering, oral (f!receiving) unprotected PinV (be smart and wrap it, folks), breeding kink, Bob Floyd fucks, Navy and Air Force inaccuracies are probably gonna pop up here and there, super self-indulgent

Summary: After six years of training, you’re finally graduating from flight school as one of the first female Eurofighter Typhoon drivers in the Austrian Air Force. Your boyfriend of six and a half years, Bob, has supported you every step of the way. And now? Now it’s time to celebrate his newly graduated, freshly made Lieutenant, girlfriend.

Read on ao3

A/N: Listen, this is gonna be SUPER self-indulgent, ‘kay? Thanks to TGM, the Austrian airshow “Airpower” in 2022 and the internships I’ve done with the AAF, I’mma try to enter flight school for the Eurofighter Typhoons once I’m done with my MA. This translator wants to flyyy, baby! 😂 So, this is my brain keeping me motivated to train for the entry exam by giving me ideas of what it could be like to actually do it and graduate. Also, I’m a slut for Bob Floyd. What else is new? 😂 This is basically an extension of @attapullmans International Bob Floyd Fucks month. I wanted to have this up by the end of January but didn’t have time. (Song to listen to for this would be Tell Me The Truth by Two Feet.)

Six years. You’d been waiting for this moment for six years. Had worked hard for it. And now, as officers, family and other invitees were applauding and two of the Typhoons soared overhead, you were officially being dismissed as a Second Lieutenant for the first time. The first female Typhoon driver in the Austrian Air Force. And yet, it didn’t feel real. Not the way your classmates, other pilots with the rotary wing or other fixed-wing aircraft, clapped you on the back as they cheered. And certainly not the way your boyfriend of almost seven years, who’d been there for you every step of the way since you’d told him you wanted to try out for the Air Force when you’d first started dating, was grinning at you. No, he was positively beaming.

The fact that your parents hadn’t been able to make it to your graduation might’ve dampened your mood, if Bob wasn’t looking at you with so much love and pride, it made your own chest swell. You’d done it. Despite what everyone else and your own mind had told you from time to time, you’d made it. And, to be honest, you’d been terrified of Selection Day. Scared that even after already three years of consistently being top of the class and adamant about wanting to fly the Typhoon, your superior officers would tell you, they’d assign you to the helicopters or air transport.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, blood roaring in your ears as you pushed through the crowd and finally reached Bob. You were trembling by now, the adrenaline slowly wearing off, the world coming back into focus. And with it, the thought that you had to get Bob out of here as soon as possible. He’d chosen to wear his dress whites, while you were in your dress uniform with its grey jacket and grey pants (thank god, they’d actually let you choose whether you wanted to wear a skirt or pants and nobody had pitched a fit when you’d gone for the pants, explaining that you would “stick out like a sore thumb as is”, you didn’t want to add to that by being the only person wearing a skirt. The other female cadets in your class had all chosen the pants as well.) – and the new golden edelweiss on your collar. Fuck, if he didn’t look like he’d stepped off the pages of one of the romance novels you’d been devouring recently.

“Congratulations, darlin’. ‘m so damn proud of you,” he murmured before bending down to press his lips against yours in what had to be the most chaste kiss of the century. But you were still in sight of your superiors, so you couldn’t go too far. Especially since your relationship had already sparked enough gossip – and a three-hour briefing on what you could tell your boyfriend and what you couldn’t, not that you hadn’t figured out most of the things with you usually being on the receiving end of Bob’s professional silence. You didn’t feel like adding fuel to the fire, even though you positively ached to kiss Bob the way you really wanted to and to stick your hands in his hair and mess up that gelled back hairdo he was sporting.

You could feel your cheeks heat at the thought of how you didn’t even want him to take off his uniform. You just wanted to get him home and have him fuck you while he was still wearing his dress whites. “Thank you, baby,” you finally replied to Bob’s praise.

He raised an eyebrow and slightly cocked his head at your reaction, but you saw recognition bloom on his face when you lightly bit down on your bottom lip. He leaned in close to whisper in your ear. “Do we still have to go to any official dinners or parties, or do you think, we can jus’ sneak off?” His voice was rough, lower than it had been just a minute ago, and it sent a delicious shiver down your spine.

You briefly closed your eyes before you looked back up into those light blue eyes of his, trying to look as innocent as you could muster. “I’m afraid, there’s one more we have to go to. My new squad leader’s paying, and it would probably be good to get to know them a bit before next Monday. But I’m sure, they’ll understand if we don’t stay for too long.”

“Whatever you say, Lieutenant.” His lips stretched into a smirk, the kind of which you imagined only you saw on the regular, as another shiver raced down your spine and left goosebumps in its wake despite the June heat. Damn it. You knew, how much he liked it when you called him by his rank. But this? This was new. And you loved it. “You wanna take the lead when we get home?” He wrapped an arm around your waist and drew you in closer as you nodded.

“Hell yeah, I do.” You both chuckled at your response. Usually, you had no problem handing over control to Bob, especially in the bedroom. But sometimes, especially if things had been stressful and since you’d joined flight school, you liked to be the one to make him whimper and beg for a change. Tonight would not be any different. You grinned as your mind was already busy conjuring up ideas.

***

“Good god, I’m so sorry. I had no idea, he could talk that much,” you groaned when you finally entered your off-base apartment with Bob hot on your heels. Initially, you’d expected to only stay for maybe two hours with your new squad. But then time had stretched on and now it was almost ten pm. You were exhausted. But also restless. Besides, you actually had the weekend off, starting with Saturday tomorrow. And Bob would leave on Sunday evening, so who would fault you for not wanting to go to sleep yet?

You toed off your shoes as Bob closed and locked the door and then leaned his back against it. His eyes were closed, a sigh left his lips and for the first time since you’d picked him up from the airport, he looked tired. You inched closer to him, snuggling into his chest, despite his buttons and ribbons digging into your cheek. You could feel him relax against you, just as the tension finally left your own shoulders.

“You know,” you began to mumble into his jacket, “I’d get it if you wanted to go to sleep after today. We’ve still got tomorrow and Sunday after that.” You really would have understood if his response had been yes, wouldn’t have minded just curling into his embrace and against his warm body in bed as you both drifted off to sleep.

But to your surprise, he simply lightly pushed on your shoulders until he could get his fingers under your chin and tilt your head up to meet his gaze. “I might be tired, but that doesn’t matter. Haven’t seen you in months. Just wanna … feel you. Make you feel good.”

“You want to be a good boy for me?” you replied with your own question, your own fingers inching up his neck until you could caress his cheek. He leaned into your touch and then nodded.

“Yes, ma’am.” His eyes were glued to yours, pupils blown a little wider than they had been just minutes before. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards when he heard the sharp intake of your breath at his words.

You groaned, squeezed your eyes shut and then leaned your forehead against his chest. His words only worsened the throbbing in your core, while you fought the urge to squeeze your thighs together. “I never thought, I’d actually like it when people call me that. Makes me feel so old.” You swallowed thickly. Well, you weren’t entirely honest. You’d thought about what it would be like to hear Bob call you “Ma’am” or by your rank. The two of you had tried it out once, where he’d called you cadet and you’d immediately shut him down. It had made you feel too small, by no fault of his really. You just hadn’t liked it. But this? Hearing him call you Lieutenant? Especially in this tone of his he sometimes got when he was particularly needy and wanted you to ride him. It ignited a whole new wave of desire in your core that quickly spread throughout your whole body.

He chuckled. You felt his chest vibrate underneath your cheek. “Now you understand what you do to me when you call me by my rank?” His hand came up to cup the back of your neck. Your eyes almost fluttered closed again just feeling his fingers brush against your skin.

“You wanted me to call you Lieutenant and Sir,” you started to defend yourself. Bob’s grip around the back of your neck tightened. Only lightly, but enough to make you take a half step back, so you could look him in the eyes properly. The light blue of his eyes was almost completely swallowed by his blown-out pupils now. His other hand took your wrist and brushed your hand against the growing tent in his pants.

You could see his nostrils flare when you flexed your hand and grabbed his dick over his pants, rolling the heel of your palm against his tip. He jerked, his hips involuntarily bucking against your hand. He barely suppressed the moan bubbling out of his throat and you bit your lip to hide the grin threatening to break out on your face. “I know, you feel weird about people callin’ you ma’am at work. But when we’re off-duty and I call you that or by your rank, I don’t want you to ever think, it’s not a sign of my utmost devotion to you. I love you, Y/N. And I wanna make you feel good. Please. Lemme make you feel good. Show you how much I worship you, ma’am.”

He kept his eyes trained on yours as you leaned up on your tiptoes to brush your lips against his ever so lightly. He groaned and chased after your lips, but you took another step back, took your hand away from his crotch in the process. “Well, then you better show me you mean it, Lieutenant. Don’t you think?” You began to slowly walk backwards into your small apartment, undoing the buttons on your uniform jacket as you watched him stalk after you.

While discarding your uniform, you were careful not to wrinkle it. You’d have to probably go to the designated dry cleaner’s anyway, but just wanted to be safe. A thought that immediately left your head when you saw Bob reach up to undo his own buttons. You surged forward, put a hand on his and then said: “Did I say, you could undress, Lieutenant?”

Bob’s gaze flicked from your face to your hand on his. You were pretty sure, he’d also eyed the semi-lacy bra peeking through your open shirt, but you couldn’t fault him. While your current underwear couldn’t possibly be classed as lingerie, you were wearing a pretty, white set that came with lace trim around the hems, was super soft and comfortable to wear – but also had your now pebbled nipples poking through the cloth. “No, ma’am. Sorry.”

“It’s alright, Lieutenant. I’ll let it slide this time. But just so we’re both clear, the uniform stays on until I say otherwise, understood?”

Bob startled, blinked once, twice, before he stuttered: “S-say again?” In another instance you would have teased him for so easily falling back into the standard ICAO phraseology, but this time, you just smiled. You shrugged off your white shirt, relishing in the way his eyes tracked every little one of your movements. He licked his lips as you pressed your body against his, nudging his cock with your thigh. One of your hands travelled up his chest, over his ribbons. Your nails lightly scratched the skin of his neck until you could tangle your fingers into his hair. And you tugged. Not hard enough to actually hurt him, but enough to elicit a broken moan.

“I said, the uniform stays on until I say otherwise.” You tugged again. “Did you understand me, Lieutenant Floyd? Or do I have to spell it out for you?” He leaned down a bit, until your faces were only inches apart.

You could see the twinkle of mischief in his eyes. He would obey for now, play along with your little game, but you would definitely be having a conversation about your apparent uniform kink later. And you knew, he would use it against you when he could.

“Loud and clear, ma’am.” He wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you a little closer, and you guessed, to keep your body pressed against his, give you a harder time to escape his grasp again.

“Good.” You pressed a small kiss to his lips, ducking away before he could deepen it. You started to back up again, into your bedroom while you opened the button and fly of your pants, pushed them down over your thighs and let them pool down at your feet. You heard him groan and felt his fingers lightly brush over your ass when you turned around to walk over to your bed. You swatted his hand away, then bent over to push down your panties.

Bob swore under his breath, and you couldn’t help the grin that lit up your face at his reaction. You’d soaked through your panties by now, knew he could see it. Was probably itching to bury his fingers and face in your pussy. But when you caught his gaze, your breath hitched in your throat and your overly confident, dominant persona faltered for a split second. Fuck. He looked like he was going to devour you the second he got his hands on you. For a moment, you wondered if you’d gone too far in teasing him this much.

“What’s your color, baby?” you asked and slowly sank down on the edge of the bed.

“Green. Still, very much green. But, damn, Y/N…” His gaze briefly landed on your pussy and the wetness you knew he could see staining your inner thighs. You swallowed, before you leaned back a bit, steadying yourself on your hands.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Get over here and show me what other talents your mouth and those thick, nimble fingers of yours possess.” He didn’t even respond verbally this time, only made a sound that reminded you of a growl. He nodded, once, just a quick, curt movement of his chin. Then he closed the distance between the two of you in two long strides.

His hands were on you before you could even tell him to touch you. One of them cradled your head and pulled you closer, so he could crash his lips against yours in what you’d call a complete 180° turn from how you’d kissed on base earlier that day. You moaned into the kiss, tangled one of your hands into his hair and easily opened up for his tongue to slip into your mouth. His other hand wandered down, quickly squeezing your right breast before it dipped down between your legs.

“Bobby,” you gasped against his lips as he swiped his fingers through your folds and pressed his index finger lightly against your clit.

“What, no more orders for me, ma’am?” He smirked against your lips as you desperately shook your head. You’d thrown your persona out the window the minute he’d fully touched you. All that mattered was feeling his body against yours now. Nothing else.

“Fuck that. Need you to take over. Fuck me, Bob. Please.” You could barely suppress the moan ripping out of you as he quickly shoved two fingers inside of you.

He groaned into another kiss; you knew he could feel you clench around his fingers. How you grew even wetter. “Oh, sweetheart. I’ll do anything you want if you ask me this nicely.”

When you opened your mouth to tell him what exactly it was you wanted, he gently withdrew his fingers from your pussy and pushed them past your lips instead. You closed your mouth around his fingers, letting your tongue swirl over the tips and let out a low moan at the taste – and the fact that he had just figured out what you wanted without you having to ask.

He slowly sank down on his knees in front of you, grabbed your thighs and placed them on either side of his head. He looked up at you, making you wonder if it was even possible for his eyes to grow even darker? Much like you, he’d foregone his usual glasses for the day and opted for contacts, making you almost miss the feeling of the frame digging into your skin. Without his gaze ever leaving your face, he turned his head and pressed a gentle kiss to the skin of your inner thigh. “This what you were gonna ask me to do, sweetheart?”

You nodded eagerly, trying to push him closer to your core with your heel, but to no avail. “Yes.” Any other time you would have been fucking mortified at how needy and breathless you sounded, and he’d barely touched you. But you’d done the same to him, it was only natural, he’d turn the tables on you as soon as he got the chance. And you’d handed him the reins freely after all.

“Yes, what?” He’d practically growled the words, raised an eyebrow at you and slowly leaned closer to let his hot breath ghost over your now practically dripping pussy.

You swallowed again, scrambling to find your voice and command your tongue to move. “Yes, Sir.” You could barely hear his mumbled “Good girl” in response; your heartbeat was so loud in your ears, you wondered how he hadn’t heard it yet. And then he dove right in. Licking, sucking, groaning into you as he got a taste of you after you’d barely been able to even talk on the phone for months. You leaned back further, your mouth fell open and you let the moans and gasps flow freely. When you bucked your hips against his face, his left hand came up to grip your right hip; his right hand landed on one of your breasts, pulling down your bra, so he could grab at the flesh and roll your nipple between his fingers.

Your arms trembled underneath your weight as your hands dug into the duvet underneath you. You didn’t even hold back the praise, told him how good he made you feel. In return, he doubled down on his efforts of eating you out like he was a man starved. It didn’t take long for you to reach the edge, but Bob made no move to slow down. Instead, the hand that had been kneading your breast wandered down until he shifted his mouth to your clit and thrust three of his fingers back inside of you, curled them up to hit the spot that sent you careening over the edge with a litany of “Oh my God”s leaving your mouth.

Your arms had now fully collapsed under you as you slowly returned to your body and your chest heaved with every breath as you were gasping for air. Bob pulled off of you and crawled over you, light concern shone in his eyes as he asked if you were okay.

You nodded after a couple seconds of blinking and trying to regain your ability of speech. “That was …”

You’d trailed off and before you could pick up your train of thought, Bob interrupted you: “So, what else did you have in mind for tonight?” His left hand was drawing abstract shapes onto the skin of your right hip and stomach while he waited for your reply.

You groaned, closed your eyes and dragged a hand over your face. “I … hadn’t decided, actually. Either, I ride your cock or you bend me over and fuck me until I can’t walk.” You peered up at him through your lashes with a sheepish grin. You couldn’t place the origin of the flush creeping up your neck and spreading over your chest. It was either desire or embarrassment. Or, more likely, a mix of both.

He chuckled and let his head drop down for a quick peck against your lips, before he shook his head at you. “Jesus, Y/N.”

“Sor–” you’d almost said before a hand over your mouth silenced you.

“Don’t apologize for that. Besides, I did say, I’d do anything for you, didn’t I?” He smiled down at you as you nodded, still somewhat bashful at your suggestion. Without another word, Bob stood up and you whined at the loss of contact as his hands trailed off of you as well. “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll be right back where you want me. Where’d you put the condoms?”

Oh, that’s where he was going? No, no, no. That didn’t work with the fantasy you’d sketched out in your mind all week as you’d touched yourself – at night, in the shower… You sat up and grabbed his wrist with a hand to pull him back towards you. “No condom tonight. I’m on birth control anyway for my cramps. And I …” You looked down, wanting to look at your knees, but your gaze got caught on his dick straining against his pants.

“What is it, Y/N?” He leaned back down, put a finger underneath your chin and tilted your head backwards, so you had to look at him. You bit down on your lip and closed your eyes for a second, praying that he’d understand what you were trying to say. “You want me to fill you up, sweetheart? Hm? Feel my cock inside of you, feel me come inside you?”

You nodded, breathed out another “Yes”.

Bob groaned in response. He squeezed his eyes shut, his lightly dominant persona leaving the room for a second as he looked at you again and quietly asked: “Is that why you want me to fuck you from behind?” Again, you could only nod and respond in a whisper.

He chuckled, gently cupping your cheek for a second and brought you in for a slow kiss. You practically melted into his touch and sighed against his lips when he pulled away again. “Well, lose the bra, turn around and get on your knees, sweetheart.” His voice was back to the low, darker and more dominant undertone. His gaze felt heavy on you as you scrambled to unhook the clasps of your bra behind your back and then threw the garment behind you. You’d pick it up later.

You scooted back onto the bed, before finally turning around and waiting for his next move on your hands and knees, completely bare before him now. Your heart fluttered in your chest when you heard him undo his belt and pull down the zipper of his pants. Goosebumps spread over your skin as his fingers traced your vertebrae and his lips pressed kisses against some of the healing bruises on your back. (Nobody had ever said, flying a fighter jet at hundreds of knots and with multiple Gs wouldn’t leave a mark on you.)

The buttons and ribbons on his jacket dug into your skin as he leaned over you, putting part of his body weight on you. He lightly nibbled on the junction of your neck and shoulder and you whined, pushing your ass back against his definitely rock-hard cock. He slipped into you easily, setting a pace that had you squeezing your eyes shut again as you let your head hang low and exposed your neck for his lips and tongue and teeth to mark you up as his, just as his cock marked your pussy.

He kept mumbling praises into your ear in-between groans and moans from both of you. But with how you’d worked each other up, it didn’t take long for either of you to get close to the edge again. “Fuck, darlin’. ‘m so close.”

“Please, Bobby. Come in me. Want to feel you.” You whined at a particularly rough thrust and your whole body shuddered when his fingers found their way down to your clit.

“Right there, Y/N. Just need you to come with me, ‘kay? Can you be a good girl and come with me?”

You weren’t sure if you’d replied to his words when your second orgasm of the night hit you like a freight train. The wave of pleasure pulled you under and you distantly felt Bob’s hips stutter, then still, as he reached his own climax and spilled into you with a low, guttural groan and a mumbled “Fucking hell”.

It took a while for the ringing in your ears to fade out, your breathing normalized as did Bob’s. Although he didn’t move from his spot behind you. Instead, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled your back against his chest as he tipped the both of you over onto your sides. He kissed your shoulder.

“That how you imagined it, sweetheart?”

If you’d had any strength left in your body, you would have rolled over in his arms to look him in the eyes. But as it was, you simply craned your neck a bit, humming at the kiss that landed on your cheek in response. “Better. So much better.”

“’M glad. Have to take care of my new Lieutenant, don’t I?” You heard the grin in his voice and weakly rolled your eyes at the teasing lilt.

“Of course, you do. You’re always a good boy for me and take such good care of me.”

He groaned lowly and sunk his teeth lightly into your shoulder again. “If you keep that up, you won’t have to wait long for round two.”

You chuckled, before fully relaxing in his arms with a sigh. “Good. I was planning on riding your cock while you were still in your dress whites, anyway.”

#sophie writes #fic: yes ma'am #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x f!reader #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x you #top gun bob #bob floyd fic #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fucks

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laundrybiscuits · 1 year

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“Eddie,” Robin says, eyes wide in a way that means trouble. “Edward Munson, I sincerely hope your last will and testament is in order, because you are going to completely and totally die when I tell you who just got hired at Scoops Ahoy.”

Eddie groans. “Don’t tell me Tammy Thompson is giving up on her Nashville dreams.”

“No, I hate you, shut up forever, you’ll never guess.” Robin pauses, then in a dramatic whisper she’s definitely picked up from Eddie himself, says: “Steve Harrington.”

“Jesus. No shit?”

“Yeah, I have to train him. Oh my god it’s the worst. He’s so bad at, like, everything.”

She shoves at his shoulder until he moves out of the doorway of the trailer, and flings herself backwards onto his couch. “Like! Okay! I showed up to my shift thinking it would be a completely normal day in which I would be bored out of my skull distributing frozen dairy products to the flotsam and jetsam of Hawkins, and Ned’s like, hey Robin, you’re showing the new guy the ropes today. And then that freaking jackass has the freaking nerve to say—” Her voice drops a full register. “Uhh, nice to meet you, I’m Steve. Nice to meet you! God!”

Eddie cringes sympathetically, sucking air between his teeth. There’s a special kind of indignity to being so completely and utterly below the radar of Hawkins High royalty, even former bearers of the crown. It’s not as if Hawkins is a big town; Eddie’s pretty sure he could pick every single person in the graduating classes of ‘84 and ‘85 out of a crowd. He’ll probably be able to do it for ‘86 too, though he’s trying not to think about it too hard. So he’ll be a senior again (again) this fall, whatever. It’s fine. It’s whatever.

Once in a while, he wastes some time really, really wishing he’d gotten to know Robin earlier in the year. Maybe even last year. For undying friendship reasons, yeah, but also because with her in his corner, he might’ve actually passed enough of his classes to fucking graduate on his second fucking try.

But he’d only actually met her, like actually met her for real instead of passing her in the hall sometimes, when he’d let himself get suckered into rejoining band. It wasn’t like he could’ve brought his guitar in, but he let it slip to Miss Genovese that he could read music and keep time, and they needed someone to wallop the bass drum, and he figured a little experience fucking around with percussion might be the one thing he could salvage from the year. He’d just…been so goddamn tired of feeling stuck, spinning his wheels. Music was something he could actually handle; something he could actually get better at. Something he could master. He's man enough to admit he needed a win.

The actual songs were all stuffy Holst and Sousa numbers, but they’d had some fun technical bits he spent his evenings hammering out for a couple weeks. And then right around the point when he’d gotten good enough to get bored and think about quitting like last time, it had somehow wound up that shooting the shit with the gangly weirdo in the trumpet section was one of the best parts of his day. Unfortunately, by the time they’d gotten close enough for her to start bullying him about homework and shit, it had been way too late to save his chance at walking that ‘85 stage with assholes like Steve fucking Harrington.

Not that Harrington would’ve even noticed, apparently.

“Anyway, the one singular saving grace about the entire situation is that he looks even dumber in the sailor costume than I do, so at least that will make me feel better about my life until he gets fired for burning down the ice cream freezer or something like that. Eddie, I cannot stress this enough: he is so bad at this job.”

Eddie very tactfully does not bring up the litany of screw-ups that Robin’s admitted to over the last couple weeks since she started at Scoops; he just says, “Buckley, it sounds to me like you might be in need of some quality relaxation time this fine evening. I can offer you a nice cold beer, some herbal refreshment…or a fiendishly weird new song to learn with an intro riff that'll make you cry.”

Robin, inveterate nerd of his heart, sits up immediately and chirps, “New song, please!” just like he knew she would. She’s going to run off and elope with his acoustic one of these days, and he’s not even mad about it.

“Coming right up, m’lady,” says Eddie. “I promise this entire Harrington situation will be over before you know it, and neither of us will ever have to think about him again.”

(ETA: First chapter of this fic has been edited/expanded and posted on AO3)

#new fic time YET AGAIN yes I know I have other things on the boil #seasonal things even #but I have recently spent 36 hours without sleep in airports/airplanes bc the nation of britain is 0% equipped to handle subzero temps #I literally kept myself sane by rereading nice comments I'd saved on my phone so thanks for that y'all #and I just needed to work on a thing that wasn't an angsty mid-90s Steve POV set in chicago; this was next on the docket #I'm just out here vibing with my Eddie & Robin: Gay BFFs agenda #obviously this will be steddie eventually but it feels disingenuous to tag on this part #fyi this will not be fully compliant with Rebel Robin but there may be some details drawn from the book/podcast #fic: purify our misfit ways

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avatarmerida · 3 months

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Truth & Love

I had this idea awhile ago and I’ve been working on it in the background and I’ve been stuck on it writing so I tried. I had trouble ending it so don’t come for me I wanted fluff k bye 💚💛

———

Before, Willow absolutely dreaded potions class.

Her magic thrived when it could tap into her emotions but potions required a precision and exact measurements that Willow found tiresome. Eda had tried to help her improve, but Eda’s ‘measure with your heart’ method was best done by someone who had mastered and then evolved the subject, not by someone who had a hard enough time focusing without Boscha dropping things into her vial when she wasn’t looking. She always second guessed herself and potions were often time sensitive, which didn’t help improve her confidence.

But then when they were finally able to return to Hexisde she was much better at believing in herself. Not to mention Hunter was in her potions class and Hunter had never had trouble believing in Willow.

Of course they were partners, there was no question about it. The moment the teacher had uttered the words “pair up” he had teleported beside her without even thinking about it. How odd that just last year she was everyone’s last pick and now well truthfully she didn’t care about where she was on anyone else’s list because she’d choose Hunter’s everytime.

Hunter had a decent knowledge of potions, but Willow would pick him even if he had never touched a potion in his life.They worked well together; Hunter loved to sort the different ingredients and he allowed Willow the honor of mixing them. They were a great team, although honestly Willow cared less about her improved grade and just wanted an excuse to spend more time with him. Her studies revolved around getting to sit close to him and watch the cute way Hunter furrowed his eyebrows when he reviewed measurements.

“Okay, wait,” said Hunter as he counted the vials in front of him. “I usually sort them by colors but I might’ve mixed up the milled orc wing and obsidian dust because when they’re liquidized they have a very similar color.”

“Oh, which one smells more sour? That should be the orc wing,” said Willow. She watched as Hunter cautiously sniffed the first one and his face instantly contorted in disgust. She giggled as she took the ingredient from him and added it to their assignment.

“I hope the soaked rosemary can dilute that because otherwise I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep that down,” he said, clearing his throat.

“Hey, I had to do the hair growth potion,” Willow reminded him. “And that one was spicy, and not in a good way.”

“Yeah, I remember,” he said with a smile. Hunter had offered to cut her hair back to its original length after and had unintentionally gotten distracted and had ended up cutting it much shorter. He had felt terribly guilty but Willow ended up loving it and decided to keep it. The cut was still fairly fresh and Willow loved flipping it and feeling how light it and easier it curled at the ends. The distraction was fairly familiar, as watching her joyfully exist was part of what caused him to cut her hair so short in the first place.

“Okay, which do I add first?” Willow asked as Hunter went back to the book.

“Ummm, hold on the pages are stuck together,” said Hunter as he attempted to delicately separate them. “I don’t think it matters as long as it’s still boiling.”

“Okie doke,” said Willow, sticking out her tongue as she focused on not spilling a drop. “Oh thorns, I think I added too much.”

They were supposed to be making a potion to change the drinker's hair color and according to the book it was supposed to be a dark turquoise but Willow simply could not manage to balance the color to match the picture.

“Hmmm,” observed Hunter. “It looks close. Add the orc wing and see if that’s the missing part.”

Willow obliged and the potion color changed slightly, but Willow still couldn’t tell if it was getting closer to the photo.

“Hmmm, whaddya think?” Willow asked her partner. “You ready for a taste test?”

“Okay, but if I don’t look good with red hair, you’ll tell me right?” Hunter joked as he went to take the glass container from her, swirling it like it was a fine wine.

“Absolutely not,” she smiled back, secretly expecting him to look handsome as ever.

“Fine,” said Hunter, having grown more comfortable with this type of joking. “Then just promise me you won’t find a new potions partner if I decide to keep it red?”

“That I can promise,” she said, scrunching her nose as Hunter brought the concoction to his lips. He took a gentle sip and didn’t look immediately repulsed, but Willow could tell the taste was not what he knew it was supposed to be.

“Is it minty?” she asked.

“Not really?”

“Darn it, it’s supposed to be minty,” said Willow. “Is it almost minty?”

“I’m not sure?” he chuckled. “What does ‘almost minty’ taste like?”

“Hmm, I think if you have to ask then the answer is ‘no,’” Willow sighed. “I think the issue is the potion is supposed to be blue-green and this is more green-blue. And your hair is still the same, so we didn’t get it yet. But wait, then what did we make?”

She flipped the pages, looking for something similar or a cheat but saw that the pages were still sticking together which could be the reason the potion did not line up. None of the ingredients were toxic, so Willow knew she didn’t poison him. But it was rare for a mixture with this many components to have no side effects.

“Hmmm, what other potions do you know are this shade of green?” Willow asked as she tapped her pen on the table. Before, she’d chalk this mistake up to an F, but now she had someone to work through it with her.

“None come to mind immediately,” said Hunter as he pulled out another book. “But I think the prettiest shade of green is the one of your eyes.”

Willow froze, certain she had misheard him. “Huh?”

“Your eyes,” repeated Hunter. “They’re a beautiful shade of green, like gemstones or new leaves. They sparkle when you’re happy, and your glasses make them seem even brighter.”

“Oh,” said Willow, somewhat taken back. “Well, uh thank you.” Come on girl focus, she thought to herself. “Um…okay, so you can’t place the taste, what would you say the potion smells like?”

“I’m not sure, but did you know you smell amazing?”

“What?”

“You always smell like a greenhouse,” said Hunter casually as he skimmed his textbook. “Which makes sense since you’re there so often. Or maybe a meadow? It’s like a bunch of different flowers and fresh grass and dirt all mixed together. It’s really lovely. Like I can’t help but think of you whenever I go outside.”

“Oh, wow,” she said with a small smile. “That’s… so sweet Hunter, thank you.”

She was so taken back by Hunter’s effortlessly sweet words that she nearly forgot the task at hand until the professor started making her rounds to check everyone’s progress.

“Miss Park, the assignment was to create a follicle altering potion, this coloring is completely wrong,” said the professor. “I don’t know what you were trying to make, but if you don’t correct it posthaste it could settle into a more complex potion. Act fast now, I don’t want to have to dock you and Mr. Noceda’s final grade.”

“Oh yes ma’am, of course,” said Willow, redirecting her attention.

“No worries, professor; Willow is the most determined person I know,” assured Hunter. “I’m sure we can figure it out.”

“See to it that you do,” she said before walking away, unaware Hunter had already sampled the mixture. Willow hoped she would at least give them a hint as to what they had made instead, but the bell screamed to signal the end of the period.

“Alright everyone, that’s lunch,” said the professor. “This will give your potions time to settle and we’ll work on perfecting them in class tomorrow.”

———-

“Let’s see,” said Willow, zooming in on the photo she had taken of the potion on her scroll, every book she and Hunter had between them regarding potions took over the lunch table. “We had to have made something, right?”

“Yeah I probably should’ve waited to taste it until we knew for sure,” said Hunter, bringing over their trays. He didn’t have to ask Willow what she wanted; he always knew. “I guess I was just trying to impress you.”

Willow didn’t say anything about this time, she just tried to hide the blush creeping onto her cheeks as Hunter continued.

“So it didn’t really have a taste, it was more of an aftertaste I guess? So maybe it has a delayed effect.”

“Well I wanna figure it out before you start shrinking or something,” said Willow, only half joking. Hunter had a high tolerance for most potions, which is why he only let Willow be the tester if they were 110% sure they had nailed it. But that didn’t mean Willow still didn’t worry. “So it’s the wrong shade and consistency to be a mind reading or mind swapping potion, and you’re awake so it’s not a sleeping potion. Maybe it’s the lighting in the classroom but it actually kind of looks like this love potion? But that can’t be it, because you’re not in love with me.”

“Oh, I’m definitely in love with you,” said Hunter casually as he reached over to take one of her fries.

“What?” Said Willow, looking up from the book so fast her glasses nearly fell off. She was certain she had misheard him.

“Oh, could you not hear me?” Hunter asked. “I said I’m in love with you.

A vibrant golden sunflower appeared on the side of her head. She didn’t know how else to process Hunter casually saying the most accidentally romantic thing she had ever heard. He was so direct and so certain and it was so out of nowhere that she couldn’t think of the right thing to say. Willow was sure they were having two different conversations or that she was dreaming. The way he didn’t even hesitate, surely her mind was playing tricks on her! How was this real?

“Hunter, are you… um… are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I always feel great when I’m with you,” he said as casually as he would say “fine.” He spoke as though praising her was as natural as breathing. “Why?”

“I just uh…” Willow wasn’t sure what to say. She didn’t mind what he was saying, not one bit, but she didn’t know how to express that while still making it clear that she felt guilty for how it came to be. “Just wanted to be sure.”

“Hmm, ya know I think that’s one of the first things I loved about you,” said Hunter. “I mean, right away I knew you were beautiful but I’ve never met someone so kind. Sometimes I can’t believe you’re even real.”

“Oh, uh well… I am, heh. R-real that is.” Willow knew it was the potion talking but she couldn’t help but blush. She knew she shouldn’t encourage it, that allowing him to continue might make the potion more potent and harder to subdue. She knew it wasn’t real, and yet it flustered her just the same.

“Well uh, anyway we should get back to the potions classroom,” decided Willow quickly, clearing her throat. She didn’t want to act like something was off, lest she worry him and agitate the potion somehow. “I think I figured it out so we can go make up the counter potion, all the ingredients should be in the classroom.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Hunter agreed, quickly darting away for a moment to put back both their trays. He darted back to help her collect the books. “Can we hold hands on the way there?”

“Um… sure,” she decided as she extended her hand to him. It wasn’t totally unusual for them to hold hands as they walked. Hunter was still getting used to the layout of the school and Willow certainly didn’t want him getting lost.

“I lied about that, by the way,” he said as though he was responding to her thoughts as he took her hand delicately in his.

“Huh? About what?”

“Not knowing my way around the school,” he clarified as they began walking. “I studied the blueprints for weeks before I started. I wanted to impress you with how much I already knew on my first day but when you offered to take my hand and walk me to my classes until I got the hang of things well I liked that option even better.”

Willow wasn’t the best at potions to begin with so it was possible she had messed up her mess up, but she couldn’t help but wonder why it had affected Hunter the way it did. He was so… casual about it, like it was a natural occurrence that didn’t alter the set up of his mind.

They had only covered these types of potions briefly as they were only intended for the advanced class as the ethics of them were highly debated but it was well known that love potions were meant to border on obsession. Hunter should be overwhelmed sitting near her, like a lovesick puppy. But despite the things he was saying, it was like nothing had changed. He was able to function just fine. Willow wondered if the effects got more severe with time, or if bringing attention to the early signs could cause him to spiral. Was it like waking a sleepwalker? Would it be dangerous not to indulge him?

“Your hands are always so soft,” Hunter continued, looking down to admire them in his own. “And I know you always get in trouble for always having dirt under your fingernails but I love that too.”

She smiled, in spite of herself. “Really? You don’t think it’s kind of gross?”

“No,” he said easily. “I think it shows how hard you work and how much you care about what you do.”

“Well, thank you Hunter,” she chuckled. “I guess I never thought about it that way.”

“Well, I should tell you more often,” said Hunter, giving her hand a small squeeze. “You deserve to know how amazing you are.”

Willow felt like her heart was spinning around in her chest. Hunter wasn’t showing any physical signs of the potion’s effects, but the blush on Willow’s face was proof that she was. She suddenly remembered the time she had offered to paint Hunter’s nails when the Entrails had a team building night. How she took his hand and asked what design he wanted and suddenly he couldn’t decide. The longer he took to think, the longer she held his hand. She wondered now if it had been intentional.

“Oh shoot,” Willow groaned as they re-approached the classroom. “The door is locked, I forgot the professor always locks it when we have projects brewing so no one can mess with them.”

“Well, I feel fine,” said Hunter. “I think I can wait until after school for her office hours.”

“Hunter, are you sure?”

“Yeah, we can always go to the nurse if I start not feeling fine,” he said. “But I’ll take any excuse to spend more time with you though.”

“Okay then,” she squeaked, overly aware that he did not let go of her hand. “Why don’t we uh, go find the others for the rest of lunch?”

“Sounds good,” he agreed. “As long as I can sit near you.”

———-

“Oh, Willow! Hunter! Over here!” Amity called from across the cafeteria. “Hey! What are you guys doing here? Willow messaged me that you guys were working through lunch.”

“Well, that was the plan,” said Willow. “But the classroom is locked up right now, so we have to wait until after lunch.”

“Too bad, but pull up a chair!” Gus said, sipping his juice. “So what’s up?”

Hunter pulled out Willow’s chair for her, which was not new but given the current circumstances it made her feel guilty. “Uh, well…”

“Nothing much,” said Hunter as he took his seat beside her. “I’m just thinking about how pretty Willow is, what about you?”

Gus nearly spit out his juice. This was not a totally unique answer from Hunter, but usually Willow was out of earshot when this was the case. He didn’t sputter to correct himself and Willow didn’t react, which suggested this was not the first occurrence.

Amity and Gus exchanged a look and adopted matching grins.

“Whaaaat’s going on?” Gus asked mischievously.

“Yeah, is there something you two wanna share with us?” Added Amity.

“Willow is beautiful every day, why do you two seem so surprised?” Hunter asked.

Willow’s face flushed and she gave a tiny giggle which quickly turned into a nervous laugh. She looked down and suddenly a vine crept onto the table and knocked over Amity’s drink. “Oh darn ! Oh wow, uh… Hunter! Could you go grab a napkin, please? And uh maybe another drink?” She added, attempting to prolong his return beyond a mere golden dash.

“Of course,” he said, getting up. “I’ll grab you something too, I think they have the little cakes you like. They’re small and sweet, just like you. It’s like most things remind me of you, isn’t that funny?”

“Haha yeah sooo funny,” Willow smiled nervously as she moved her hand to the side of her head trying to hide the blooming flower he inspired this time. “That’s so… yeah. Um, take your time! Thanks!”

“So…” began Gus. “Did something finally happen…?”

Willow made sure Hunter was out of earshot before dropping her false smile, stuffing the flower in her pocket and turning to her friends to explain in a panicked whisper.

“I messed up our assignment and long story short I gave Hunter a love potion,” Willow confessed quickly. “I don’t want to worry him so he doesn’t know because I don’t want to make things worse or make him feel awkward because it’s not his fault.”

“Well how do you know it was a love potion?” Amity asked.

“Well for one he told me that he’s in love with me,” said Willow, pulling out her scroll to show them the photo of what they made. “I added something wrong or out of order and this is what we made instead of a hair changing potion.”

“Did you taste it?” Amity asked.

“No, we always take turns being the tester,” said Willow.

“Willow, I don’t think it’s a love potion.” Amity said delicately.

“What do you mean?”

Amity didn’t know the proper way to say the effects would be moot as the potion creates attraction but if attraction was preexisting it would cancel out. But she knew Willow had definitely made something and didn’t want to add something else to her friend’s plate before solving the problem at hand so instead she said:

“I mean, it’s the right color but don’t you need intention when making a love potion?” Amity asked. “I mean, isn’t it supposed to have like your hair or something in it?”

“I dunno, my hair could have fallen in it or something,” said Willow. “What am I supposed to do? I don’t want Hunter in love with me?”

“Oh, don’t you?” Gus questioned smugly.

A mini field of yellow flowers sprouted in her hair. She quickly dusted them off and tried to whisper but her voice still managed to squeak. “Well okay maybe but not like this,” she said. “Like it’s so wrong for me to be enjoying all the nice things he’s saying about me when it’s not real.”

Amity and Gus exchanged a look, both knowing that wasn’t totally true.

“Oh shh! He’s coming back!” Willow pleaded, brushing the latest garden from her head.

“We didn’t say anything,” Amity murmured.

Hunter offered Willow a wide smile as he slid in back beside her. “They had cake cups and I wanted to get you one but I didn’t know if I should get one with a heart or a flower because they both remind me of you so I got them both and you can choose your favorite and Gus can have the other one,” said Hunter as he distributed the sweets and goods from his tray.

“Thank you, Hunter,” said Willow faintly, as she allowed Gus to take his pick because she truly could not choose.

“Um, why didn’t you get me a cupcake?” Amity teased as she took her new drink.

“Because I’m still mad at you for telling Darius that my O’Bailey cosplay wasn’t modern human realm fashion so he wouldn’t let me wear it in our holiday card,” said Hunter nonchalantly.

“What?” Amity said. “But you still got to wear it in the one with the Nocedas!”

“Yes but if you didn’t say anything Camila was gonna find him a general Midas outfit to wear when we took the photo all together next year but now he knows it’s not ‘in fashion.’” Said Hunter. “Which is also why I set all your clocks back a minute and a half when we came over for dinner last week.”

Gus sighed. “Hunter, we need to work on your pranks because that’s not-.”

Amity gasped in shock as she pointed a finger at him. “I knew it was you!”

“I also moved everything on your desk one inch to the left,” said Hunter. “That was Willow’s idea. She has a wonderful mind for mischief, it makes me feel like a puddle.”

“Hmmm,” said Gus as Amity continued to express her woe. He couldn’t help but be suspicious of the way Hunter admitted this with such a straight face. It wasn’t snarky or defensive; it was just factual. It was way too casual. It was unusual. Gus had a theory.

“Hey Hunter, what did you really think about the way I wrote O’Bailey in my Cosmic Frontier fanfiction?”

“You had him monologuing a bit too much and I’m not sure you captured his humor as well as you could have,” Hunter said as he took a sip of his own juice.

“Okay, okay,” said Gus, knowing this response was very different from what he had initially said. “What happens in the story you wrote that you won’t let me read?”

“Uh, nothing major,” said Hunter thoughtfully. “I just wrote about what I think happened with O’Bailey and Ivy when they got stranded on that moon. It had a lot of kissing but I don’t really know how to describe kissing and I didn’t want to risk Willow finding it and realize that because I want her to think that I-.”

“Okay!” Gus cut him off, his theory confirmed. He cleared his throat as he prepared to share. “Willow, you didn’t give him a love potion, you gave him a truth potion.”

“What, wait?” Willow said.

“How do you know?” Amity asked.

“Gave who a what now?” asked Hunter as he used his fork to take a bite of Gus’ dessert.

“I had a feeling there was a reason Hunter was avoiding giving me feedback,” Gus explained. “And I know he would never tell me outright that he didn’t like my story, and if he did he wouldn’t do it without me having to force it out of him.”

“No, no I’m pretty sure it was a love potion,” said Willow. “I mean, why else would he be talking about my eyes and my smile?”

“Because it erases his filter,” said Gus. “So he’s basically just saying everything he’s thinking.”

“So he… thinks about my eyes a lot?”

“Yeah,” said Hunter, unaware it wasn't a question he needed to answer. “But I mostly think about your face in general, it makes me feel dizzy and warm and safe.”

“Awh,” Willow couldn’t help but openly blush as Hunter went back to sampling Gus’ treat as though he had Neely given her the time. His words seemed to hit her twice as it spun her back to everything he had said to her since class, and they echoed with a new air.

“So when he said he was… that means he really is…”

Gus watched as the truth washed over Willow, her emotions leaping in and out of focus as they tried to decide what to display on her face. Gus wasn’t sure if Hunter would remember saying the things he was saying now, considering they had not intended to make a truth potion initially and he had no reason to be suspicious. Very often when a consumer had not been told they had been given a truth potion (as they were often used in court or interrogations) their mind automatically went to the things they wanted to keep secret and blurted them out against their conscious will. But when a person was slipped a potion, they acted like they would act in a dream; unsuspecting of the unusual.

But Gus wasn’t certain if this was a dream Hunter would remember fondly or instantly regret.

“Hey, if you guys wanna head to the Owl House and have Eda help you make the counter potion, I can whip up some illusions to cover for you guys for the rest of the day,” offered Gus.

“Sounds good,” said Hunter. “That way I can still qualify for the perfect attendance award which for some reason the thought of not having makes me anxious and can spend time with Willow, which both excites and terrifies me sometimes.”

“Worried about losing the award to me huh?” Amity teased, hoping to defuse the tension before remembering it was technically impossible for Hunter to save face right now.

“Well I think I’m afraid of missing a core memory that makes us all closer friends like in all the stories Luz told me when I was preparing to enroll,” said Hunter thoughtfully. “I mean, I’m also still wary of breaking rules but Willow seems to enjoy it and I enjoy seeing her enjoy things,” he chuckled before he turned to speak to Willow directly. “Mischievousness was not something I thought attractive until I met you, but I think it’s the gentle way you laugh when you talk about that makes me feel like my chest is going to explode.”

“Uh we should probably get going,” said Willow, swiftly getting up to try and hide the newest blooms sprouting in her hair.

“I would go anywhere she asked me to go,”said Hunter, sharing his thoughts as casually as he might say goodbye as he went to follow Willow outside. “Oh and Amity, Luz got you Azura earrings for your birthday.”

—-

The Owl Lady left them alone, not wanting to hear Hunter’s true thoughts about her, and also knowing this was teenage drama best left to be solved by teenagers. She had everything they needed and promised to check the final concoction to avoid any accidental poisoning.

“You look worried,” Hunter observed in the middle of silence which was unusual for this setting between the two recently.

“I’m not,” she said, as she added some crushed juniper to the mix.

“I can tell you’re lying,” he said. “I can tell by the way you move your hands. I know you’re not sad but you do the same thing when the weather is bad and you’re thinking about your plants. I don’t like when you lie to me about how you’re feeling. I don’t want you to feel like you have to.”

She glanced up at him and knew he’d say this even without the potion prompting him. The potion typically didn’t allow his emotions about what he was confessing to be expressed, but his concern for her was just that heavy.

“I know,” she sighed. “I do know that. I’m just… worried that I didn’t respond the right way when I found out all your secrets.”

“Well you didn’t find out all my secrets,” Hunter said as he spun in his chair. “I didn’t tell you about the-.”

“Mhmm! Hey!” She exclaimed, cutting him off. “Careful! I’ll wear ear plugs; I mean it!”

“Fine, fine, but I do wanna tell you things,” he said. “Which you know is true, because of the potion.” She lovingly rolled her eyes and he smiled. “I’m really okay with you asking me things. I like when I can help you and I can tell there’s something bothering you.”

“Heh, of course you can,” she chuckled lightly. “It’s just… not something I was expecting to hear today, I guess? And I know it’s true but I’m still in disbelief, kind of. It’s just been… a lot? Ya, know not in a bad way I just mean like I know you weren’t planning-.”

“Is this about me being in love with you?”

The flowers sprouted back in her hair. She had given up trying to hide it at this point. “I mean, it’s not something you expect to hear at the lunch table I guess.”

It wasn’t the fact that he said it really it was the way that he said it. He didn’t say he had a crush on her or that he liked her, he kind of skipped a few steps. And Willow didn’t know if that was just how he happened to phrase it or if that was truly how deep he felt about her. She knew how serious Hunter took the things that were important to him, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he was even aware of these feelings. It took her weeks before she accepted she liked him more than a friend, but her acceptance didn’t stop the feelings from growing. She had tried to convince herself that it was nothing, that it would pass but one day her feelings just burst forth like water from a damn demanding to be felt.

Willow wondered if a Hunter in full control had already come to terms with these feelings or if this confession was news to him as well.

“Oh no, did it make you uncomfortable? Willow, I promise I wasn’t trying to embarrass you.”

“I know that, of course I know that, and I promise you that you didn’t.”

“Good.”

“It’s just that, you’re really in love with me,” Willow crafted her question carefully as she began to mix. “Then why haven’t you ever told me?”

“I don’t know how,” he said in the simple way the potion effects allowed him. “I’ve never really felt this way before, at least not toward someone I actually knew and knew for so long. I didn’t want to do it wrong and make things weird between us or offend you. I just kind of hoped I would wake up one day and just know how to do it.”

“Okay.” She didn’t want to pry further. Well no, she definitely did but she knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. She shouldn’t trick Hunter to find out his feelings about her despite desperately wanting to. She could at least be more open with her feelings with full confidence when this was all over but it still felt unfair that he didn’t have control over how she found out. But she couldn’t help being secretly happy about it anyway.

“Do you think you could ever fall in love with someone like me?” He asked calmly as though asking about the weather.

She wanted to say, no to scream: Not someone like you, you!

Instead she sputtered:

“Um, w-why do you ask?” She wasn’t sure if it was something he wanted to know right now or just something he was thinking about at the moment that slipped out against his will.

“That’s the main reason I never said anything,” he explained. “I didn’t think you’d like me back. And if I knew for sure that you didn’t then I’d have to stop feeling that way about you and things would be weird but I like feeling that way about you. It’s confusing, but nice?”

“Hmm you’re confusing but nice,” she giggled, feeling silly and bubbly for some reason.

He smiled. “Are you? Okay with it, I mean?”

Her smile grew. “I really like the way you get excited about things,” she said, looking down to trace some carvings on the table with her finger. “You take care of the things you care about and the way you care about things is really sweet. Being someone you care about is really special. And being someone you really like… well… I don’t see why anyone would mind that. In fact…”

She wondered if she should just say it. It wasn’t like she wasn’t sure her feelings were returned, but she didn’t want Hunter to think she was only saying it to make him feel better if his memory didn’t erase the moment. But she wanted Hunter to know that it was all equal; his hesitation, his confusion and his feelings.

But that would have to wait until it was his choice to tell her.

“… I’ll tell you after we have the counter potion ready.”

“You’re so wonderful,” he sighed, tracing the letters of her name on the front of her notebook. “You make my hands feel sweaty.”

Willow tried not to drop the spoon she was stirring with as she fought the urge to craft a flirty response. She wanted him to know she felt the same way but she knew it was wrong to dive too deeply into his trove of secrets. So instead, she giggled and bit her lip as she playfully responded. “Stooooop.”

“Do you want me to stop talking?” He asked, resting his chin on the back of the chair as he watched her work.

“Of course not, why would I want that?” She asked with a smile.

“Because what if I say something you don’t want to know?” He said. Willow marveled at a moment that even with his filter removed he still managed to be concerned about what she thought.

“I mean, I’m more worried about you saying something you don’t want me to know,” said Willow. “Maybe there’s a way we can erase the memories from today, about those parts at least. I know Eda could probably-.”

“I do want you to know,” he said.

“Huh?”

“I do want you to know,” he repeated. “I do want, well did want to tell you. I thought about it all the time. Sometimes it was hard not to say something. But there was always so much going on, I mean we’ve got playoffs and finals and then there was never a time with all the portal attempts in the human realm-.”

“Human realm? Wait,” Willow set down her supplies as she dreamily processed his latest confession. “Do you… you’ve liked me since we were trapped in the human realm?” Realizing what she had done, before he could reply she quickly leapt forward and her hand sprang to cover his mouth. “Don’t answer that! I’m sorry! I don’t want to trick you into telling me any more secrets!”

His response still came, muffled by her palm and safe from her ears. She felt him smile and his eyes softened as he went to remove her hand and held it to his cheek.

“Well,” he sighed. “Can I at least tell you again how soft your hands are?”

She giggled, unable to help how giddy and dizzy his unfiltered praise made her. “Well okay, I guess.”

——-

The counter potion was much simpler to make, and thankfully much better tasting too.

Willow watched Hunter’s face as he drank for signs of whether or not he remembered the details of the day’s events.

She could instantly tell by the way his eyes widened that he did.

And the way his face flushed told her his calm demeanor about it all was no more.

“How are you feeling?” She asked anyway.

“Uh… a lot?” He said, his voice cracking. “I mean, I feel fine but I uh…” he now found he couldn’t look at her without all the things he had said today overlapping in his mind. They were nothing he didn’t truly believe, nothing he was ashamed of, but he was mostly embarrassed that she knew he couldn’t easily say them to her now despite how truly he felt them. “Soooo uh can we maybe pretend today never happened?”

“I mean, we can if you want,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I mean, it’s my fault that you drank the wrong potion anyway, and I really am sorry that you had to-.”

“Oh, no!” He jumped in to say. “I-I don’t mean because of what you did I mean because of what I did.”

“Yeah because of what I did!”

“No! No, I… I don’t want you to feel bad,” he tried again. “But I don’t want things to be weird between us because of what I said. I mean, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me now that you know … ya know…”

“I know,” she said, reading between the lines. “And since we’re being honest… I was able to recreate the truth potion while the counter potion was settling and I took a sip of it and I can feel it starting to work.”

“What? Why?”

“Well I wanted to see what the after taste tasted like,” said Willow. “But also because I thought this would be a way to make things fair between us.”

“Willow, I don’t want you to admit all your secrets just to make me feel better,” said Hunter.

“I’m not gonna say all of them,” she said, mimicking his tone from before. “I’ll just answer any questions you wanna ask me.”

“But I don’t know what to say, I mean I don’t want to ask the wrong thing if it’s something you don’t want to tell me…”

“I figured you’d say that,” she said with a smirk. “So I wrote some questions down for you. That way you know what I want you to know and you can decide if you wanna know too.”

She slid a carefully folded piece of paper over to him, his name written in bold cursive with a tiny heart beside it.

“Are you sure?” He asked. “I’m fine with waiting for the potion to wear off, really. We still have some of the counter potion left and we don’t have to talk about… the other stuff.”

“I’m very sure,” she said. “I want to tell you these things.”

“Okay then,” he chuckled as he brought the paper closer to read. His eyes found the first sentence and he immediately slammed the paper down, his face beet red at the thought of saying it aloud. “Ok, uh..”

“Heh, you always look so cute when you do that,” she giggled, resting her chin in her hand.

“When I do w-what?”

“When you blush,” she clarified. “I love how the red reaches the tips of your ears and your mouth gets all squiggly; it’s very cute.”

“You… think I’m cute,” Hunter said, saying it more as an observed realization and purposely not as a question to answer. He cleared his throat as he tried to move on with grace. “Okay, cool. Cooooool. Cool cool cool.”

“I also think you’re cool,” she said, and the red on his face intensified and his smile grew. “I also love the gap between your teeth, especially when you smile.”

“Willow,” he said shyly, unable to suppress his smile now. “I thought you wanted me to ask you things.”

“You’re right,” she sighed. “But I can’t help it; no filter, remember? Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No, no I just uh wanted to stick to your plan. So uh okay uh Willow,” he began, clearing his throat as he brought the list back up to his eyesight. “Uh ‘do you think I’m’ - oh wait, w-we just said that one heh.”

Willow bit her lip in anticipation as she watched him scan the rest of the list.

“Do you- hehehe,” he couldn’t help but laugh nervously at the sentence written plain as day in her bubbly green pen. He knew it was her own choice, that she wanted him to know, but it was a question he would never ask (at least not the way she had decided to word it).

“Go ahead,” she prompted.

“Do you think my hair looks… attractive pushed back?” He paraphrased from her list.

“Yes,” she said. “I like getting to see your face better, I don’t feel guilty about that.”

“Were you the one who let Hooty eat my history of magic notebook?”

“Yes, because you were stressing yourself out about the test even though you had everything memorized and it was the only way to stop you,” said Willow. “But I put a protection spell on it so it’s still usable, that I do feel a little guilty about.”

Hunter smiled, it had been his first official test at Hexside and he was determined to do well. Willow knew he knew the material and when his notebook ‘mysteriously’ went missing, the two of them went on a picnic. He had passed the test easily, and he knew without intervention he would’ve been up all night studying instead of getting a proper night’s sleep.

“Can I… actually ask you something that’s not on the list?”

“Of course,” she assured him. “I trust you.”

“I… uh,” he hesitated, if only to try and find the best way to ask her this. It weighed so heavily on the back of his mind and he knew what she’d say if he asked her any other time. But a sort of him would never believe her. He didn’t know if it would be better to really know but at least he wouldn’t wonder.

“Does it… bother you that I’m a grimwalker?”

“No.” She said without hesitation.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Like, not even a little?”

“I mean, it bothers me that it bothers you,” she said. “Because it’s not something you can change and I know sometimes you think it means you’re not deserving of things or that you have something to make up for. But I’m really glad you exist, and I don’t really care how it happened.”

“Okay,” he said with a sniffle, trying to not cry. “Cool. That’s… good to know I guess, heh.”

He was feeling better, but he couldn’t help but feel a small weight still tugging at him, he both did and didn’t want to keep going. It was scary, as Willow often was to him in a unique and safe way (yet another contradiction she summoned) but if he didn’t keep going it might haunt him forever. He knew deep down that no matter what she would not leave or belittle him, but this was still uncharted territory.

“Does it… bother you that I like you more than you like me?”

“No it doesn’t bother me,” she said. “Mostly because it’s not true.”

“What?” Hunter said, certain he had misheard her. “Do you not… Willow, I promise you it is true.”

“Mhmmm no it’s not.”

“Willow, I can assure you it is.”

“I can assure you it’s not.”

“Willow, I mean I know the potion was preeetty strong,” Hunter chuckled. “But I still remember everything I said. I know that I told you I’m in love with you which I know seems like a strong wording but it’s how I feel. I like you a lot, like… a lot.”

“Exactly,” she said with a smug smile. “You don’t like me more than I like you.”

As her mischievous grin grew, her words suddenly became understood and caused his ears to flutter. He felt like steam was escaping them, like he had finally landed after falling for so long. Her eyes sparkled the way they always did when she teased him like this and Hunter couldn’t help but feel like they were on the edge of something.

“Oh, then how does it make you feel? I-it’s okay then?”

“Do you wanna ask me the last question?”

“I mean, I don’t really know if I- wait, did you just ask me a question?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s just that you asked me a question instead of truthfully answering the question I asked which means… Willow, you didn’t really take another truth potion, did you?”

She knew the jig was up so she simply shrugged playfully and twirled a loose curl on her finger. “Okay, so maaaaaybe I lied about that,” she admitted.

“Willow!” He tried to say sternly but couldn’t help but laugh. He knew she meant no harm, that her silliness was not at his expense.

“I’m sorry!” She laughed in response. “But I didn’t remember exactly how I messed up the first time and I wanted to tell you I liked you too but I didn’t wanna wait until we got back to school because I’m pretty sure we’ll have to dump the potion and start over anyway so I-.”

“Wait,”said Hunter softly. “So… you do? Like me? Like… I like you?”

“Well, if you had read me the last question,” said Willow, reaching over to both point to the bottom of the page and to be closer to him. “You wouldn’t seem so surprised.”

#huntlow #huntlow fanfiction #winter toh #toh #willow park #Hunter toh #the owl house

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writer-in-theory · 2 years

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black box labels — steve harrington

summary: when something you have been trying desperately to hide from steve comes into light, you fear the worst, not knowing how wonderful steve could be. pairing: steve harrington x gn!reader category: hurt/comfort content warnings: language, heavy discussions of eating disorder recovery word count: 2.1k a/n: this is purely a self-indulgent fic because i just started thinking about how good steve would be in this kind of situation. also i couldn't resist the lil play on words there in the title with my area of study, so there we go. as always, a huge thank you to @lcvingprentjss for beta-ing and for writing the summary. i hope y'all enjoy <3

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It wasn’t obvious, at first, but the moment Steve put it together he wondered how he’d never seen it before.

He thinks this should have been a more significant moment, the day he realizes that you were suffering from something much more severe than what a tiny town like Hawkins was equipped to deal with. He might’ve pictured you sitting him down one night after he snuck through your window (even when your parents kept telling him to just come through the front door). You would have sat him on your bed and held both of his hands, teary-eyed as you admitted it. Then Steve could have hugged you immediately and reassured you even when he had no idea what to say in that situation.

Instead, Steve found out because of a stupid question.

“Babe, I’m grabbing a snack. Do you want anything?” Steve asked as he stood from where the two of you were wrapped up in each other on the couch. You considered the question, searching his eyes for a moment before shaking your head.

“No, I’m okay. I’m gonna change though, I’ll be back in a few minutes,” you told him, pulling yourself from the couch and taking the steps two at a time to get to your bedroom. It wouldn’t have bothered him, it didn’t bother him at the time, but eventually, that near-sprint out of the room would replay in a loop in Steve’s head.

“Y/N’s not really a snacking person,” your sibling called out from where they were working on homework at the kitchen island.

“Doesn’t seem like any of you are,” Steve pointed out, already knowing the pantry would be minimally stocked with snack foods like usual. It was never a problem though, for all he knew Steve was just used to being able to pick out his own groceries since he was twelve. He barely had to look before he was grabbing a box of Cheez-Its and turning to lean against the kitchen counter.

“Oh, no I just keep my snacks in my room.”

“What?” Steve nearly choked on the tiny handful of crackers he’d tossed in his mouth, eyeing your sibling with a strange look. He’d been dating you for several months now, so he knew your family and had been around to babysit your kid sibling the same way he’d babysit all the other kiddos in town, it seemed. He could normally feel comfortable enough to crack a joke with them, but this? This was weird. “What, scared of someone taking it?”

“No, dumbass, it’s because of Y/N’s, you know, eating thing,” your sibling answered coolly, as if that answered everything Steve could ever possibly need to know about the situation. Except, it really didn’t because what the hell did that mean? “I’m trying not to stress them out too much.”

“What eating thing?”

Steve witnessed the moment your sibling realized they messed up, or it was more so a look of pity that he was having to find out this way, from someone who wasn’t you. “Shit, I thought you knew.” In any other circumstance, he might’ve scolded them for cursing but instead, all Steve could do was stare at them with blank horror, hands fumbling as he fought to smack the Cheez-It box behind him on the counter. “Y/N has an eating disorder. Or they did. Still do. They’re doing better but, it’s...it’s still hard, you know?”

Eating disorder.

It was the one-time Steve was glad he’d paid attention in health class last year. Mr. Turner had talked about eating disorders once, talked about how some people didn’t see their bodies as they were. All the words from that lesson flashed through Steve’s brain at once, all the possible diagnoses and the signs, what to do if you thought someone you knew was doing that.

And shit, it all made sense, didn’t it?

The signs were plastered everywhere for him to read, even on that box he’d been holding moments before. Steve picked it up then, allowing his fingers to run over the dark black rectangle of permanent marker where he knew the nutrition facts rested. Steve knew the other boxes and bags in the pantry were like that too. He’d always assumed your family just didn’t care about what was in the food, but he never once considered, not this.

And fuck, has he ever actually seen you eat? Any time he suggests a dinner date, you’re making a new suggestion for a movie night or a day at the park. You’re always working on homework in the cafeteria, a lunchbox in front of you but now that Steve thinks about it he doesn’t think you’ve ever actually opened it in front of him.

“I—how long has this, I mean how long have they...?” Steve managed to get out around the knot tying itself in his throat. He hated to think of you suffering all this time, right under his nose. He could have been helping you, and fuck if he knew what to do but he could’ve been there. He wouldn’t have been suggesting dinner dates or offering to get you snacks if it only upset you and made you run out of the room. He could have known.

“Y/N won’t tell us how long they, you know, but they’ve been working on it for like a year now.”

“I need to talk to them,” Steve rushed out, pushing off from the counter and practically sprinting up the stairs. His heart hadn’t raced this fast since he’d fought off a full-sized Demogorgon with nothing but a nail bat. The hallway felt ten times longer than normal and he just had to get to you, to see you and tell you how much he loved you.

When he nearly skidded past your bedroom, he noticed that your door was already open. You were sitting on the edge of your bed, arms wrapped around your middle and head tilted down.

“Did you hear...?” Steve asked gently, stepping just inside the doorway but not wanting to scare you. The tiny shrug you gave in response made Steve want to cry, made his brown eyes well up with the tears, and made his lip quiver a little as he fought to control the response. “Y/N.”

“It’s fine, Steve, I get it,” you answered, confusing him more.

“What do you mean?”

“I know this is too much,” you whispered, but the words smacked him like they had been sent through a concert-grade amplifier. “You don’t have to stay.”

Steve’s expression crumbled then, as did his resolve. He rushed over to you then, knees rubbing against the carpet as he kneeled in front of you, hands reaching out for yours and head tilting down so he could get a glimpse of your tear-stained face. “Sweetheart, please look at me, please,” he practically begged, “I miss that sweet face of yours.”

You lifted your head then, eyes still swimming with tears that fell down your cheeks but there it was, a tiny hint of the smile that could break through even the heaviest of cloud covers.

“There you are,” he whispered like you were the very person who hung the sun in the sky. And, well, maybe you were because life was simply better with you around. Steve thought he’d loved his past partners, but no one could ever compare to how right you made him feel. “Y/N, you will never be too much for me. I just wish I knew.”

“I didn’t want to make you deal with that. Steve, it’s, it’s not fucking pretty, okay? It’s not just being hungry,” you stammered out through the wobbly tears, hands squeezing him as you fought to make him understand. “It’s pretty fucking ugly, is what it is.”

“I don’t care if it’s not pretty, Sweetheart. I love you and I want to be there for you no matter what that looks like,” Steve told you, thumbs rubbing over the skin of your hands.

“Oh yeah?” you challenged, a bit of fire sparking in your eyes at the promise. “You really want to come over for a dinner date and watch me fucking sob into my pasta because I can’t stand the thought of eating it? You want to have to treat me like one of those middle schoolers’ you mom around, want to have to remind me every day to have something for lunch? How about being the one to grocery shop and making sure I’m not around while you scratch out all the labels because I can’t handle even seeing them anymore? I’m so much work, Steve, you don’t understand.”

“You’re right, I don’t understand what you’re going through,” he admitted, pulling one of your hands closer to him so he could press a kiss gently to it. “But I’m here for when you want to let me in. I’ll be right there through all the tears, telling you how proud I am that you went on that dinner date. And I’ll go home and get rid of every last scale in my house, and I’ll scratch out all the labels there too because I want to be there for you, no matter what that looks like. I’m not just here for your stunning face, you know, I want to see every part of you.”

You didn’t say anything for a long time, simply watching the way your hands entwined with his, eyes following his thumb trace its pattern back and forth along the back of your hand. Then, shockingly, you let out a laugh, still shaky through the residual tears but real. “That’ll take forever, Stevie. You have so many snacks.”

“And I’ll do it,” Steve promised, unable to stifle the bright smile that washed over his face at the sign of happiness in yours. It was infectious, your joy. “Every last one, Y/N. You don’t have to hide any part of yourself from me just because you think it’s something I won’t want to see, okay? Dustin really likes you; you know, I think he’d kill me himself if I ever let you go.”

“Oh, as long as you’re only in it to keep Dustin happy,” you teased, sliding off your bed onto the floor where you could wrap your arms around Steve. It was like taking that first breath after waking up, like remembering you’re alive and feeling so grateful for it. Steve never wanted to let you go, wanted to keep you wrapped up in his arms where you were safe from whatever had made all this start in the first place.

“Yeah, it’s only because of Dustin. Not because of that laugh I love so much, or your jokes that come outta nowhere. It’s not the way you just get me, or the way you always grab my sleeve when we’re walking the hallways, so you don’t lose me. And don’t even get me started about the way y—”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you laughed, reaching a hand up to cover his mouth for only a moment. “I get it, you like me a little.”

“I love you a whole bunch, Y/N,” Steve corrected, planting a kiss on your hairline.

It felt like the two of you stayed right there on your bedroom floor for hours, just wrapped up in one another. And the next morning, Steve found breakfast for himself as usual and gently slid you a little cup of fruit he’d cut up. He held your hand when you just stared at it for a while, he sat there at the dining room table far past when he’d finished his own breakfast, talking about silly anecdotes about all the babysitting he’d done recently and how Coach was on his ass at practice until, eventually, you picked up a piece of strawberry and let it slip between your lips.

“I’m proud of you, Y/N,” he told you, after each bite until eventually, it got a little easier, until the entire cup was gone, and he was beaming that brilliant smile that made your entire chest warm.

“Thanks for staying, Steve,” you would whisper, and Steve would shake his head because it would become his new life mission to make sure that someday you’d never question your worthiness of his love.

“Always, Sweetheart, always.”

TAGLIST @hargvroves @eddieussy @alessiamargaux @misha-the-mild @minispice-1 @shadetea @emily19990 @alexxavicry @raven2008

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington angst #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington self insert #stranger jays #jay writes in theory

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eternally-frozen · 2 years

Text

Private lessons

Synopsis: Dottore got kicked out of his studies due to various concerns about his psychological wellbeing. You, on the other hand, are currently majoring in biology - human anatomy and psychology. When he met you, you we’re still bright. Eager to learn and eager to follow the school system that ‘withholds’ true knowledge from it’s students. Dottore takes his opportunity to show you how things really work.

Warning: Dottore is crazy. you’re kidnapped but there’s no actual kidnapping scene, he tries to teach you about the brain by showing you a brain, he cuts the skull of a living dude, he also drugged the dude, you vomit, mentions of snot, dark themes in general, awake brain surgery, implied intimacy, hude dead dove do not eat,

Note: This is a modern setting, but everything is still in Teyvat. The akedemiya doesn’t get mentioned - you go to a different school. No visions mentioned, no clones mentioned. Idk why I wrote this - an angry spirit probably possessed me /j

Song recommendation: In pieces - Madison York

You used to study biology. Human anatomy and psychology, to be specific.

You used to, and somewhere along the way you got acquainted with Zandik.

Perhaps if you weren’t as busy, you wouldn’t have been fooled by his charming façade. Maybe you’d have noticed the obvious insanity in his eyes, Il Dottore, the second of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers, before it was too late.

But despite all your attempts at resisting, he remains stubborn.

You are so in love with your major, and who’d want that passion to die down because studies are held back due to ‘morals’ and rules.

You can’t imagine his reaction should the moment come where you find the courage to tell him you never wanted to study your major in his way.

Months prior, he crashed into your life like a bullet flying out of its barrel and straight into someone’s chest.

He’d cause a sequence of terrible events, ranging from one of your friends dying in a gang fight – to being disowned by your family after you’d gotten expelled with student loans suddenly driving you into debt.

All you had, was no more. And he was to blame.

Your life was done for, even if he opted to keep you alive for whatever reason he had in his deranged mind.

But, it wasn’t all bad at first. Dottore might’ve seemed like a normal man at some point. A bit intense, but previously never dangerous in your eyes.

He’d been your saviour only a few months ago. If not for him, you’d still be stuck with your thesis. It was mostly your fault for choosing a subject you didn’t particularly like, and yet, he’d spend his free evenings tutoring you, explaining the things you failed to understand with patience and reward.

You used to like talking with him.

At one point he brought you comfort and joy. You couldn’t help but search for his crimson eyes within the crowds of Sumeru city, hoping to catch him before you’d head to your next class.

But everything comes to an end eventually, and when you finished your thesis you stopped visiting him.

You wonder, had your choices been different – had you kept visiting him – would you still be in bliss, unaware of those crimson eyes stalking you?

And despite everyone close to you either dying or getting hurt, he only lost his temper with you once.

It must’ve been a petty argument, you can’t remember what you two had been screaming about, but knowing him, it must’ve been related to your studies.

In the heat of the argument he grabbed you by your arms with enough force to make you fear him. His grip was strong, leaving you no place to escape until you’d finally admitted you were the one in the wrong.

Zandik does not feel any emotions – you know this. His eyes are always distant, thinking about something that’s probably incomprehensible to you. The only time he ever had emotion in his eye was during that argument. Almost like a light returning, if only for a split moment.

It had taken a full week for the bruises to fade away. Not that it mattered much, no one was able to see the bruises on you. Only a few hours after the argument, he made up his mind; he’d take you.

Whatever that light in his eyes was, it had been a clear sign. Somewhere along the way you had provoked him to kidnap you and take you away from everything you knew.

You have a huge gap in your memories of that time. For you it felt like you woke up in a different nation after the argument with Dottore. When you first woke up and asked him about it, he calmly told you it was your punishment – or whatever that was supposed to mean.

He’d taken you from Sumeru all the way across different nations until he reached his destination in the frozen lands of Snezhnaya. On your first day there he told you his real identity and his affiliations with the Tsarista.

Even with that information, his motivations remained unclear. Confusion floods your mind at night when you lay next to his sleeping body. Why would he keep you by his side? Why does he insists on doing this? Is he toying with you?

You can only imagine him wanting you to lower your guard.

Not that he’d ever let you though.

As hard as it is to admit, He likes you. Your reactions make his heart beat faster and he wildly encourages you to do the craziest things.

A sick smile paints his face whenever you hurl objects at his face, probably entertained by your futile attempts to harm him. Furthermore, the way he condescendingly lures you into discussions only for him to explain why you’re in the wrong.

You hate him.

You really fucking hate him.

The door behind you is locked, you checked it moments before.

Is this another one of his lessons?

“You wanted to learn more about human anatomy, correct?”

Dottore’s voice is steady, never revealing any emotions to you. His eyes move up, watching your glare waver when you meet his crimson gaze. You continue to linger by the exit, despite it being locked.

“No.”

Your voice is weak. It breaks and the tone wavers. Dottore watches your eyes dart around the room. He had made it clear; there’s no exit, not without him granting you one.

And how he loves your wide eyes looking everywhere aside from the person he drugged and laid on an operation table. Your hands are in fists, occasionally clenching together before slightly relaxing again, undoubtedly clampy from the sweat. It’s precious. You’re anxious.

“For someone who is so passionate to study behaviour, you’re awfully weak at acknowledging your own.”

He’s mocks you.

You try to even your breaths, in- and out again. You’re uncertain what he’s trying to teach you. Yesterday he’d gotten a random set of organs for you to study. Today? The drugged man on the table, the tools laid out on a sterile table..

Fuck. You’re so fucked.

Dottore lifts up a pair of latex gloves. White, the same type he made you use yesterday.

His voice continues,

“Did you ever get the joy of participating in the lectures of the human brain? Or did I get you expelled before experiencing them?”

He keeps his relaxed smile but slightly tilts his face down, eyes taunting you to lash out at him.

Still, you reply with as much control as you can muster,

“Yes.” - the basics you know. “I experienced…the first few lectures.”

Your voice trails off as you watch him move around the operation table. He helps the person on the table upright before attaching him to a device, something to keep his head from moving around.

You try to stand your ground. Part of you wants to believe him. He always tells you, ‘You know I can’t hurt you, bunny’. But what truths do his words hold when he failed that promise long ago?

“Did you know, in the third year or so,-“

You watch him circle around the table. His fingers move down towards the tools, he lifts up something connected to a wire. You can’t see what it is exactly, so you move your eyes back to him.

“They showed us a brain.” He laughs, “Of course not a ‘real’ one.”

He walks around the person, stopping at the end where his head lays. The male in on the operation table tries to move his head up, but the frame keeps his head restricted.

Dottore continues,

“The academia used ones that were preserved and taken from people who lived an average life. They all died at old age, but not before signing a contract to donate their bodies to science once their family had mourned them.”

He waves his hand towards the chair that is placed in the middle of the empty room. It’s facing the side of the operation table. Probably set up to get a clearer view of both the ‘patient’ and Dottore.

“Sit down.”

You gulp down hard. The room itself is big, but smaller than any others you’ve seen.

The manor he resides remains largely unused. By now you’re used to the piles of dust and the spiders that hide in the corners of each room.

When you first explored his home it looked abandoned. Untouched and deprived from anything ‘homey’. But after a week or so, familiar items started to pop up.

Books previously in your possession, ranging from children stories to the sappy romance ones you used as your little escape, they all found its way here. It created a weird sense of safety – and he probably planned it like that.

He had also obtained multiple portraits. There’s one in the grand hall that paints a way too accurate version of yourself next to Dottore, his arm encircled around your waist as you both smile forward.

You hate the paintings.

But the creepiest things he obtained is the collection of stuffed animals that you used to sleep with.

When you first work up in his manor you’d been tucked into a king sized bed with fluffy blankets, multiple pillows and the nostalgic plushies. Your new bedroom was designed like your old one. Similar and comfortable, but after a week he decided to put an end to that safety.

You can only assume he burned the stuffed animals along with the pictures of friends and family that’d long been replaced with his face.

Though, you wonder how he’d gotten them in the first place. Part of you was worried for your family. Had he been at your parents’ home? It couldn’t be, why would he go through all that effort…

The floor creaks as you move your legs forward to the chair. He keeps his gaze on your form, and you return his gaze fiercely. Any form of fear he’ll take as submission, leading to worse ‘lessons’.

Still, your thoughts are less controlled. Will he lunge forward when you sit down? What’s up with the operation setting? What will he gain from this? What’s todays lesson?

He gives you a small smile when you sit down onto the chair. It’s not close enough to the table for you to feel intimidated. You’re still three meters away from Dottore. You pull your legs together and try to pull your dress down more. You feel exposed in the empty room.

You can do this.

“Book.”

You panic for a second and he smirks before tauntingly pointing his index finger towards an item on the floor; the book.

It’s nearby, so you lean down and grab it.

You recognise it. It’s the same one you were studying before he kidnapped you.

You remember the first few chapters. It contains an introduction about the anatomy of the brain, dividing it in parts, telling the reader what each side does, and how the brain works when stimulated in certain circumstances.

You remember only diving deep into the functions of the frontal lobe. You fail to recall them now, you’re too stressed out.

Despite the stress, you’re able to figure out today’s lecture.

Dottore speaks up, “Lesson one,”

His red eyes watch you lift your chin up. Your eyes are wide and shaken. Your chest is heaving up and down as you start to hyperventilate. Dottore’s breaths in deeply and his pupils dilate.

‘Smart girl.’

He inhales sharply though his nose, “A human can undergo a conscious brain surgery. You know how it works, I assume?”

You part your lips slightly, horror in your eyes as you weakly shake your head.

The guy on the table is a male. Average in height and weight. He has no noticeable features and seems to be only a few years older than you. You can see his skull from your position. There’s a dotted line drawn across his forehead.

He’s going to exercise a conscious brain surgery.

“Dottore.” You breath out, eyebrows furrowed together. “Please.”

You only see the side of his face, but you get a clear view of the grin that breaks free.

“Don’t worry. He signed a waiver of agreement to make you feel more at ease.”

He flips on a button and the tool in his hand starts buzzing. You recognise it now, it’s a medical drill, something to cut bones with. When he moves it up to the patient’s skull and you quickly avert your gaze.

You feel bile starting to rise from your stomach and you gag in response. Your fists clench onto the book, trying to keep you grounded. You can hear Dottore’s voice, though the words don’t register in your brain.

Water pools onto your lower eyelid and you lift a hand up to your mouth keep yourself from puking. Your eyes are casted onto the ground. Each inhale though your nose physically hurts. The disgusting aftertaste of vomit remains in the back of your throat.

Is it too late to pray?

The buzzing sounds continue for longer than you like, and when it stops you remain in your position, frozen in place.

You focus on breathing. In, and out again. Your body is trembling and you jolt when you feel two hands place themselves onto your arms.

“Please,” Dottore’s face is only a few inches away from yours. Within his strong grip you’re at his mercy. He watches you struggle a few more seconds before he sternly tells you to quit it.

You let out a pathetic sob, leaning forward into his direction, letting your head fall down in defeat. Tears and snot run down your face. His hold on you is the only thing keeping you from tumbling down onto the ground.

“We will continue this until you’ve properly learnt your stupid biology. It’s up to you to decide how many people get to die. Understood?”

You shake your head weakly. “I can’t.”

He groans, “You must, and you will.”

He releases his grip on your arms. When your body falls forward he puts a hand on your sternum, pushing you back with ease.

His fingerprints burn onto your skin. The latex gloves are no longer sterile, you can feel the blood staining your dress and skin, but you doubt he cares.

Dottore watches as you slowly compose yourself. It takes a bit, but he remains silent.

“There we go.” He removes the hand that’s been pushing you into the chair. “Wasn’t that hard was it?”

Your eyes remain fixed on the floor for a few more seconds. You listen to Dottore’s footsteps. He’s gone and you feel your body start to tremble again.

You don’t want this. You never wanted this.

Something tells you to look up.

You wish you didn’t.

The upper part of the man’s skull is removed. You have a clear view of the brain that’s been exposed to the air. The removal was done with precision, not a part of his brain is harmed.

A drop of blood floods down from the open part of his skull to his eyes. You watch the male groan weakly in response.

He’s still alive.

Dottore watches your body hit the ground before you vomit. You sob, whine and gag. Your small hands fly all over the place. One placed on the ground, trying to keep yourself from falling into the pool of vomit, while the other is busy wiping away the snot, vomit and tears that fall from your face.

A warm smile creeps up on Dottore’s face as he watches your intense reaction.

“Y/N.” He snaps his fingers once.

You stop your movements.

Are you going to die? Is he mad because you vomited? You lift a shaky hand up to your mouth.

His shoes come in view once again. His head is close to yours, he’s crouching down in front of you.

Time seems to stop as you gaze back into his crimson eyes.

“Hello?” He snaps his fingers in front of you.

You blink and you move your eyes back to the ground. The pool of vomit makes you sick again.

”S…sorry-“ You sob once more.

He rubs his fingers between his brow, a revelation hitting him.

With a somewhat sudden movement he stands up, frightening you and making you sob even harder.

You’re no sight to behold at the moment. Covered in vomit, tears and snot running down your face, and reeking of sweat.

He undoubtedly put himself in a less than favourable situation.

After today he’s going to have to deal with delays in your study and those nightmares that you get.

Whatever.

A small miscalculation on his part.

He takes off his white lab coat and throws it onto the male on the operation table, covering the exposed brain and likely injuring it in the process.

He has no intention to keep the patient.

The experiment had long lost his privilege to live.

Dottore’s experiment started to lose organ functions a few days ago. It’d eventually lead him to die without ever completing the tests Dottore put him under.

Truly unfortunate, but Dottore still gifted the dying man one last gift.

As Dottore turns his attention back to you he realises he might’ve fucked you up a bit though.

No worries.

He’ll patch you up again.

Tomorrow’s lesson can wait for now.

#❄️ winter: writes #tw: yandere #tw: dark themes #tw: graphic content #yandere #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #yandere dottore #dottore #il dottore #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #harbinger x reader #genshin harbingers #fatui harbingers #fatui x reader #fatui #dead dove do not eat

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ldhluvr · 1 year

Text

☆ close to you

pairing: academic rival!keeho x fem!reader

summary: yoon keeho is a menace to society. especially if the definition of society is you (and maybe your math teacher).

other info: this was written for a friend, so the texting style is specifically to fit her texting style. also i think i made it a fem reader? no proper proofreading / editing soz. also ur math teacher is nosy as hell but also i would love having him as my math teacher

Being the first person in a column of students had its perks, because you were the one who got to see every students’ test scores before you passed their papers back. Usually, you were not the type of person to invade someone’s privacy and potentially embarrass them like that, but with Keeho, it was very different.

He was the biggest smartass you knew, and you were quite smart yourself. You just weren’t a dick about it.

But your seating chart gave you the upper hand here — you get to make fun of any idiotic mistakes he makes on his test, and he can’t do the same for you.

You flip through the papers until you find yours, and then his, and you take a long look at his. You hear him groan behind you.

“Just pass back the damn paper. If you’re so curious, I could tell you my grade. You’re holding everyone else up.”

“You’d lie,” you mutter, as you continue reading his test. “Oh, wow, how’d you get number eight wrong?” You reach back and hold out the stack of papers for him to grab.

“If you’d let me see my paper earlier, I might’ve been able to give you an answer.”

“‘Might’ve,’” you mock. You take a look at your own test paper and see you also got number eight wrong. You feel a presence near your shoulder and you realize Keeho’s reading your test from behind you. You flip the paper over as fast as you can before turning around to glare at him.

“What’re you looking at?”

“Just checking if you have the right answer for number eight. Guess you don't.”

“Shut up. At least I know how to solve it now.”

“Who said I didn’t?”

Of course he’s smirking.

You roll your eyes at him and turn back around.

The next day, he taps on your shoulder. You quickly turn around to glare at him but notice he’s rubbing his nose. You look down at your braid that rests on your shoulder. You fight the urge to laugh.

“Did I just hit you with my hair?”

“Most people would say sorry.”

“Clearly, I’m not most people. What do you want?”

He stops rubbing his nose and looks at you, clearly annoyed.

“Can you pass me the notes for 9.3? I couldn’t really get what he was saying.”

“Why would I help you? Ask one of your friends,” you snap.

“I am.”

You freeze. We’re friends now? Since when?

He’s making a (really ugly) pouty face and you feel like throwing up or something.

“Ugh, fine, whatever,” you say, handing him your notebook. “Wait, how the hell am I supposed to take notes now?”

Keeho doesn’t respond, and stares a little above your head instead.

You cringe, having a feeling that you know what’s behind you. You turn around and are met with your math teacher’s grimacing face. You feel like you’re trapped in a Disney Channel movie.

“Hope you had a nice little chat. If you continue it, I’ll give you your very own detention slip!” he exclaims, a fake smile adorning his face. Normally, you loved your teacher’s sarcasm, but this situation has made you realize you don’t love it as much when it’s directed at you.

Both you and Keeho mutter quick apologies to your teacher, and you quickly snatch your notebook back from him.

“As I was saying, with integrals, you have to keep in mind…”

Turns out, Keeho’s stupider than you thought. Even though your teacher essentially said “shut up or you’ll both get detention,” the idiot decides to open his big mouth.

He asks you for the notebook again and your teacher stops in the middle of his lesson, staring at the two of you with his same pained smile. He looks down at his podium and starts scribbling. You groan quietly and try your hardest not to smack Keeho in front of your entire class.

“Since you two love flirting in my class so much, here’s a ticket to a room just for the two of you. And me, of course. Today, after school.”

You open your mouth to object, but you know that’s going to make it worse. Wait, what the hell did he just say?

Whatever. Your mom’s going to kill you.

A couple hours later and it’s finally time for your first detention. If only he’d given you detention tomorrow so you could’ve explained that you didn’t interact with him that second time.

Whatever, it’s probably already on your record already.

Fuck Keeho.

Speaking of the boy, he’s seated in your usual class seat.

You give him a weird look and sit at the desk closest to the door. He gets up from his (read: your) seat and sits at the desk closest to yours.

You roll your eyes. “Just stay away from me. Because your idiotic self couldn’t pay attention in class, I’m stuck in detention. This is on my record because you didn’t take notes like you should’ve.” You pull out your computer from your backpack and decide to do homework.

Your math teacher still hasn’t arrived.

You take a quick glance at Keeho’s face and he looks kind of… hurt. When he realizes you saw him, he hides whatever the expression was with a smirk. “Ouch, that really hurt,” he says in the most sarcastic tone you’ve heard. He moves closer to you. “You know—“

Your teacher walks into the room and raises an eyebrow at the two of you. Keeho immediately moves positions and sits like a normal smartass.

Your teacher starts working at his desk. At the same time, you’re handed a post-it note.

“Excuse me? Also I know the post-it note’s from you dumbass, you don’t need to write your name on it. You’re an idiot sometimes, you know that?” You’ve already spoken before you remember where you are, and at this point, you don’t care.

“Actually, I’m not. From our grades, we’re relatively the same intelligence-wise, so if you’re calling me stupid, you’re calling yourself stupid too.”

“Math grades aren’t everything, dipshit. Also, did you just try to use the ‘I’m not a mirror’ comeback without using the ‘I’m not a mirror’ comeback?”

“I guess, yeah.”

“Hey, guys, I was joking when I said you can flirt in here, you’re supposed to be quiet. So please be. And do work — please do not just text each other or something,” your teacher sighs, running his hand through his hair.

You could’ve sworn he muttered something about “not being paid enough for this.”

Your phone lights up and you’re once again reminded that Yoon Keeho is actually the biggest idiot you know.

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ ok so back to what i was saying

YOU how dumb are you

YOU he literally just said “don’t just text each other” and you’re literally texting me

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ you’re texting back

YOU oh my God how are you in eleventh grade right now

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ same way you are, sweetheart

You almost shriek and then (luckily) remember where you are. You turn to look at Keeho, and he’s already looking at you. Sometimes, it feels like his smirk is glued to his face.

YOU I don’t think we’re close enough for you to call me sweetheart

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ i’d disagree with you there

YOU oh?

YOU okay, then tell me. how close are we?

YOU in your opinion, of course

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ i’d say about a foot

You roll your eyes and turn off your phone, going back to your work. A couple of minutes later and your phone (finally) lights up with another text.

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ okay fine sorry

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ i called you my friend today

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ i’d say we’re that close

YOU and friends call each other sweetheart?

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ i mean why not?

YOU ugh why are you so difficult all the time

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ okay fine fine

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ hey, wait i never said i called you sweetheart because we’re friends YOU okay so then why'd you call me sweetheart

YOU and please be quick with your answer

YOU I could have gotten the math homework done by now

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ i called you sweetheart because i wanted to be closer

YOU closer than a foot?

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ you’re the one being difficult now

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ i wanted to be closer than friends

You set your phone down with a thud. You half-expected his text, but the other half of you feels giddy with surprise seeing the message. This time, when you look at him, he’s not looking at you. In fact, his eyes are trained on his phone screen, and you can see a faint redness in his cheeks.

You tap his shoulder to get his attention. He doesn’t respond. You tap him again. He still doesn’t move an inch. You look back down at the conversation. You squint your eyes at the screen. Wait a second.

YOU wanted?

You look back at him. He finally looks back up at you. The second your eyes meet, he looks back at his phone. The text bubble appears, then disappears.

DO NOT RESPOND ❌❌❌ *want

You try to fight it, but you can’t help but grinning. You pinch him and he yelps, attracting the attention of your teacher. You put on your best goody-two-shoes smile and he looks away.

“You like me?” you whisper. “Hey, Keeho, you in there?” You tap him again. He remains still.

You sit back in your seat.

YOU never thought I’d see the day where Yoon Keeho was rendered speechless

YOU especially by little old me

YOU also Keeho if you’re not gonna let me speak to you, why’d you tell me?

He doesn’t text his response. He, instead, decides to finally look you in the eye.

You look at your teacher and look back at Keeho.

You can’t say it, because it’d be horribly embarrassing for your teacher to hear, so you instead mouth the words.

“I like you too,” a voice rings out, and it’s not your own.

You look at the direction it came from and notice your math teacher grimacing.

“Guys, come on. You’re not subtle; you text kind of loudly. But it’s nice that you guys have sorted out whatever your feelings are. I hope this means you’ll stop interrupting my class with your… conversations.”

You feel like dissolving right then and there. You look at Keeho, and he looks as mortified as you are.

“You know what? You guys are my best students anyway, get out of here and have your teenage fun, I don’t know. I won’t put the detention on your transcripts. I didn’t have the best day today and you kids having your conversation in the middle of one of the harder concepts in the class was kind of the icing on the cake. Sorry for taking it out on you. I’ll give you free As on the next pop quiz. Not like you wouldn’t get them anyway.”

He smiles at you both — a genuine one this time — and waves.

You immediately start packing and head out.

You start walking to the front of the school when a hand tugs you back. You bump into Keeho, who looks down at you with his signature smirk. You turn around to properly face him.

“So…. you like me? At least, that’s what I’ve heard.” He shrugs, a playful look in his eyes.

“This coming from the one who… what was it? Wanted to be close enough to me to call me sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” he breathes, stepping towards you. “You got it right.”

You look up at him through your eyelashes. “I’d say you’re pretty close. Much closer than a foot.”

He throws his head back and laughs, running a hand through his hair. “You’re so annoying,” he sighs. He leans in, and suddenly, he’s as close as he can possibly be, lips on yours.

#keeho x reader #yoon keeho x reader #yoon keeho #keeho #keeho imagines #keeho fluff #keeho scenarios #p1harmony #p1harmony fics #p1harmony blurb #keeho blurb #p1h #gonna be so fr w/ u rn idek keeho that well #my friend just rlly wanted a fic for him

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tastefulbean · 9 months

Text

I never did explain my concept for Halfa!jazz

Basically the idea is as follows:

Danny, being the curious young lad he is, goes to check out the portal but jazz catches him in the act. He insists on taking a look inside but she tells him no. He pushes further and eventually convince her to let him but only on the condition they do so together. She doesn’t want him getting hurt or breaking something on her watch.

Both fenton siblings suit up and enter the portal and Danny accidentally presses the button. Jazz, watching, feels everything slow down and pushes Danny out of the way as the portal sparks to life.

Danny is safe but only for a few moments as he watches in shock as his sister gets fried alive right in front of him. Except she doesn’t stay dead.

She stumbles out with light blue hair and glowing orange eyes and at first he doesn’t recognize her, but the 14 year old can certainly piece things together.

“Jazz?”

And she’s scared. He’s terrified. They both kinda do the whole “screaming when they see eachother” trope.

Dqnny and Jazz freak out but no one is blaming eachother (she just died for Pete’s sake.) the two of them eventually figure out she can turn back but they’re both shaken up. It’s not everyday you turn intangible.

Jazz and Danny were both skeptical of ghosts before but now they know they’re real. But then the portal is shaking and making strange noises.

It’s clear what they must now do.

~~~

Other notes!:

-Danny is terrible at keeping secrets but he’s trying his best for his sister. Sam and Tucker know he’s been sneaking out of classes, but they don’t know it’s to hunt ghosts with “Jazzy Phantom”

-He stores the Fenton thermos in his locker so no one can trace the thermos back to her. Jazz is very good at keeping her identity protected. She’s pretty much thought of every precaution.

-jazz is more “talk first, punch later” if she can talk it out and sort the issue without fighting, there’s a good chance she will. 9/10 chances are that she’ll end up digging into the trauma a ghost might’ve had in their past life.

“And how does that make you feel?”

“TERRIBLE! He dumped me for a dog! A. DOG.”

-her power set is similar but slightly different to Danny’s. She’s not able to use her ecto blast right away, but she IS able to create many doubles of herself early on which comes in handy when she’s trying to psyche her opponent out.

Her fighting style is more dependent on defense and wearing the opponent down with a plan rather than rushing in guns blazing.

That’s basically all I have right now but I’m happy to answer more questions (and possibly do art requests ;) ) for this au!

#halfa!jazz #jazz fenton #jasmine fenton #Jasmine Danny phantom #Danny phantom #danny phantom au

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yourmidnightlover · 2 years

Text

this one time

pairing: steve x mayfield!fem!reader

summary: reader gets mixed up in the upside down drama with her sister (s2 era) and happens to get a good dose of steve harrington, and she vows it’ll only be this one time.

warnings: ohhhh boy, billy being verbally and physically abusive, fighting, season 2 (aka demodogs and whatnot), illuding to an abusive household (duh), reader being independent as hell (like to a fault lmao bc me too sometimes), kinda sad ending (oops?)

a/n: in this fic, steve and nancy never got together in season 2 :) i think that’s the only variation in the fic. i’m ngl i might’ve cried while writing this but that also could’ve just been me being hormonal lol. also my second stranger things fic!! i’m kinda excited and can’t wait to see how this goes!

you didn’t quite know why he would always stare at you. to be frank, it was getting weird.

at lunch, when you would be waiting for max, basically every time you were in his line of sight his eyes were on you.

you even had a few classes with steve. luckily you were able to sit closer to the back. the downside to that is that the seats were all right by steve. whether in front, behind, or beside. it was worth it to not be in the front row, but still. it sucked.

you just kept your head down and let the day pass as fast as it possibly could, hoping that steve would mind his own business. sometimes he did. other times he would try to start a conversation.

“you do the homework?” steve leaned over to ask, too sweet of a tone adorning his voice to tell his true intentions.

“yes, harrington,” you rolled your eyes. “i did the homework. could your brain cells not keep up enough to finish it?”

“sadly, no,” he sighed, whipping out a softer, pitiful voice. “i was hoping maybe yours were able to make up for the disappearance of mine?”

“this is the last time,” you widened your eyes, trying to remain serious to the annoying little boy. “why do you never do it?”

“well, it always gives me an excuse to talk to you,” he had a sly grin on that stupid face.

you knew him and nancy were once a thing, but after will byers was found things changed. steve found that nancy was different after everything and they had both changed too much for them to make sense anymore.

but that didn’t mean that you and him made any sense at all.

“yea, shut it, harrington,” you scoffed as you let him glance at your paper to copy onto his own.

maybe he was drawn to you because you were a bit stand-offish. you knew you were. it’s because of billy. you had to be the protective older sister max needed. you were her biological sister, but you weren’t always so mean, only when billy and his dad came around.

you would be the one to defend max to billy. on occasion, you would have to defend max against billy’s dad. this might’ve earned you a bit of, punishment, as they would call it. others would say it’s abuse.

regardless, it wasn’t always like this. used to, you would play with max all the time. you were the one to teach her to skate. you had taught her the importance of self confidence. you were her older sister. she loved you dearly, and you did her. you still did, as did she.

it was just the dynamic that had changed. now, instead of being the sweet older sister everyone knew you were the rude, protective one. perhaps you just didn’t know how to shut off the mask you put up so often, in the house you would never call a home.

it was only a matter of time before you and max got dragged into the wild world of the upside down. you had brought her to the arcade that day lucas tried to explain everything to her. as per usual, she told you everything.

“maybe he just wants to impress you?” you scoffed, the story sounding unbelievable to yourself as well.

“why like this?” she rested her head against her fist by the window. “it’s just so stupid.”

“as are boys this age, max. they’re idiots that would say anything to impress a girl,” you gave her a pressed smile. “boys are stupid. why do you think i haven’t had one?”

“yea, maybe i should follow in your footsteps,” max added.

you laughed lightly before gently nudging her shoulder, turning up the radio to the latest kate bush song that had come out.

so when lucas told max that he had real proof, you were practically forced to follow along. well, not forced. max had asked you to come, in case anything funky was going on, and you happily said yes.

little did you know you would be met with dustin henderson and your very own king steve harrington. steve had directed you all, telling you what to do. the experience was rather ominous up to this point, so you reluctantly listened, but only to protect your sister in the case that they weren’t lying.

and once everything was boarded up, you went inside of the bus and waited. and waited. and waited.

max finally got tired of the silence when she asked, “so you really fought one of these things before?”

steve’s gaze from you was finally broken as he simply nodded his head, continuing to play with his lighter in attempt to pass the time a bit quicker than it was going.

“and you’re like, totally, 100% sure it wasn’t a bear?” she offered, being the sassy mini you she always was, you bit back a laugh.

that’s when little dustin decided to speak up a bit, “shit,” he huffed. “don’t be an idiot. okay. it wasn’t a bear,” but he wasn’t done there. “why’re you even here if you don’t believe us? just go home.”

“geesh,” max got up, headed towards the ladder. “someone’s cranky. past your bedtime?” she asked as she began ascending the ladder.

you busied yourself by fiddling with some old peeling fabric from one of the seats to hide the laugh in your throat.

“that’s good,” steve spoke, seemingly proud of the toddler who had tried to insult your little sister. “just show her you don’t care.”

“i don’t,” the toddler deadpanned, staring him straight in the eyes. “why’re you winking steve? stop.”

“really?” you chuckled, speaking up about the stupid situation at hand. “show her you don’t care? that’s the advice you gave him?”

“well, yea,” steve nodded, still playing with his little lighter.

“and does that always work with the girls you like?” you leant down, getting closer to steve on the floor.

you could hear how his breath hitched in his throat as he stumbled to find the right words.

“uhh yea, mo-most of the time,” he stopped toying with the lighter, focusing on dustin who was simply pacing back and forth, mumbling some incoherent nonsense that you figured you probably wouldn’t be able to understand even if you could hear him.

“most of the time?” you scoffed. “so you told him to be a dick to my sister on account of ‘most of the time’?”

“i didn’t say to be a dick!” he threw his hands up in defense.

“well he was being one.”

“i never told him to be one!”

“next time make sure he knows that, asshole.”

a loud growl interrupted your argument. your body became stiff as you instinctively curled into the arm that he protectively threw over your shoulders as you made your way to see what the ruckus was outside.

“lucas!” dustin shouted. “what’s goin’ on!” he demanded to know.

“hold on!” lucas replied.

silence fell over the group as you shrugged steve’s arm off of you, forgetting he had held it there. if you had paid attention to it, it felt a scarier without his arm there.

“i’ve got eyes!” lucas finally informed you. “ten o’clock! ten-ten o’clock!”

“there,” steve pointed at the creature outside of the bus, crawling low and slow.

“what’s he doing?” dustin wondered.

“i don’t know.” steve answered once more. “he’s not taking the bait. why’s he not taking the bait?” he asked worriedly.

“maybe he’s not hungry?” dustin tried to guess before a lightbulb went off in steve’s mind.

“maybe he’s sick of cow?” he replied smartly.

“wait-you mean?” you spoke up for once before steve backed away, making eye contact with you before turning.

“steve?” dustin asked. “steve, what’re you doing? steve?” he worried.

steve turned back to dustin and tossed him the lighter, “just get ready.”

“you’re not going out there alone,” you huffed at the brown eyed boy.

“like hell i’m not,” he replied, turning to face you once more. “you need to stay safe.”

“no, the kids need to stay safe,” you argued. “i’m going with you,” you told him as you grabbed a metal pipe and turned toward the door.

steve huffed as he rolled his eyes at you.

“are you gonna open the door or do you need me to go first?” you offered, teasing the boy before he reluctantly opened the door and headed out first.

“back to back, yea?” he whispered, feeling your back against his own.

you slowly walked towards the creature making the noise, feeling the whoosh of wind coming from steve swinging his bat in circles, probably from the nerves. he started whistling, trying to draw the creature out from wherever it was hiding.

“come on, buddy,” he teased with another whistle. “come on, buddy. dinner time. human tastes better than cat, i promise.”

“cat?” you whisper-yelled at him.

“i’ll fill you in later,” he replied.

when you heard the growl once more, somehow clearer, you turned to face it. you had to know what it was. the dog cleared, giving you sight of the monster you’d been told about.

“oh, god,” you raised your elbow, ready to swing in case of any sudden movement made by the thing.

“steve!” lucas shouted. “watch out!”

“little busy here!” steve roared before you turned around, noticing the second monster.

“oh, god,” your breathing picked up.

“three o’clock,” you nudged his shoulder to inform him of the new situation.

when he turned to where you were faced, his own face became filled with worry rather than mild fear. backed the two of you up a bit before the bus door flung open.

“abort! abort!” dustin shouted. “steve! y/n!”

“run!” the kids were screaming.

but every which way you looked, there was a new monster blocking your path. steve ran for the car, sliding across it before whacking one of the creatures, hearing it whimper and thud against the ground. you heard one behind your own back.

“y/n!” max shouted at you, alerting you that there was one behind you.

you swung and turned your body in one motion, the momentum enough to knock its body to the ground with a whine. another one was approaching your left, so you did the same thing with success.

after turning to where you last saw steve, he was running to you, shouting at you to move. you were too slow. a creature had tackled you to the ground, luckily steve had swung his bat before anything had happened, knocking the creature off of your body and to the side before he scooped you up bridal style and carried you into the bus himself, dustin slamming the door shut on the monsters.

they were easily able to break through the metal covering the door, leaving steve to knock the things with his nailed bat as the kids ran to the other side of the bus. you had luckily kept a hold of your metal pipe after being knocked down, your leg had been hurt but it wasn’t the time to worry about that.

dustin began to radio on his headset for anyone who could hear, seemingly with no hope. max had nudged your shoulder, motioning to the sunroof of the bus, the open sunroof of the bus. you pushed her behind you and made your way to where the roof was, not getting too close.

you could hear the stomps of the monsters above your heads before one approached the ladder. all you heard was max’s scream. the monster began to lunge towards you before steve put himself between you and the creature.

“come on you little piece of shit!” he bellowed. “you want some? come on!”

all at once the creatures began to turn away, no longer banging on the bus trying to get inside. steve had looked at you once more, a look of both relief and worry in his face.

you hadn’t even realized that you had latched onto steve’s arm. you didn’t care. you kept it there for a moment longer, hoping he wouldn’t notice or mind. you were scared, you could make an excuse.

this one time.

after a few moments of silence, steve had began to make his way outside, you following right behind with the rest of the kids.

“what happened?” lucas asked, all out of breath as if he had been the one fighting out there.

“i-i don’t know,” max hesitated.

“they scared ‘em off?” dustin mentioned, trying to find some sort of positive.

“no,” steve told them. “no way. there goin’ somewhere.”

when you all decided to take off in the direction of the ominous sound, which happened to thankfully break lucas and dustin’s little argument, steve had noticed after a while that you had been taking a bit longer than the others to keep up. you weren’t too slow, just a bit out of breath. he hung back for a second so he could ask you.

“hey,” steve began quietly as dustin and lucas went ahead. “did you get hurt? when you got tackled?”

“i-i don’t know,” you replied, more truthful than saying no. you just didn’t want to be a burden to the group, but you couldn’t stay behind. “i’ll be fine.”

“y/n,” he sighed. “which leg?” he pointed at them both before you lifted your pant leg, revealing a bruise all the way up your shin, a bit of blood from a cut running halfway down your leg. “that? y/n…” he trailed off.

he automatically put your arm around his shoulder, his arm going to your waist, acting as a crutch so you two could limp along together. you appreciated it, which was odd. you were always in depended. max noticed this too. and you noticed max holding lucas’s hand earlier. she had been talking to him on the roof of the bus prior to the, ‘demodog,’ as you came to find out, experience.

what was it with hawkins boys knocking down your walls? you didn’t like it. but, your leg really fucking hurt, so you could make an excuse.

this one time.

the rest of the night went by fast.

the noise led you to this… hospital? you had to pick up hopper, the police chief, will, mike, and joyce, wills mom. you had also ran into nancy and her boyfriend? jonathan. you weren’t sure if they were official.

when you ran into nancy and jonathan you only felt steve’s hold on you get a little tighter. you would only let yourself embrace it tonight. only tonight. you made your way back to joyce’s house, who you already felt this motherly hold over you. you enjoyed it. it was different.

you weren’t quite sure what you were doing. waiting, you suppose. they had filled you in on everything. the upside down, this girl named el, will’s whole experience and now what he’s going through.

then mike starting saying how bob, the man who had passed while saving the rest of them, had started the av club. how he couldn’t die in vain.

next thing you know they’re talking about the shadow monster and the tunnels that’re connected with the hive mind. how everything, the demodogs, tunnels, mind flayer, and even will are connected.

then the kids are telling you about this mind flayer character from d&d to relate this new creature to something a little more understandable. how this creature wants to conquer us, and become the master race. and the only way to know how to destroy this monster, is through will.

you all worked to make his shed unrecognizable. you covered it in sheets and foil and tons of bright lights. then your part was over. it was yet another waiting game.

while the kids were figuring out the morse code will was signaling, steve ushered you to the bathroom.

“what’re you doing?” you sighed, already exhausted from the night you’ve had.

“cleaning you up,” he informed you as he tapped the countertop, wanting you to hop up. “it doesn’t need to get infected and with those demodogs that did this to you we don’t know what bacteria they carry. so,” he tapped the counter twice more to prove his point, his voice like satin.

you lifted your hurt leg to hop on the other, grasping steve’s shoulder a bit so you could get on the counter easier. his hand went to your waist to help.

“alright, you wanna squeeze my hand when i pour this?” he asked as he lifted a bottle of alcohol to pour on your leg.

you nodded. only for tonight.

“one,” he began counting, only he began pouring on two.

“fuck!” you grasped his shoulder with your free hand, squeezing his hand that was in your grasp. “shit, shit, shit,” you whispered, trying not to distract the decoding process. “ohhh i hate you steve.”

the smell of him was a bit distracting from the pain. it was sweaty, but with undertones of his cedar wood cologne able to peak through. but that little distraction, the little peak of him you were able to focus on, was worth it.

“aww you don’t mean that,” he put on a small smile at your anger. “okay… that’s it. now i’m just gonna put some of this on,” he held up some neosporin from the first aid kit, “and then i’ll bandage you up, yea?”

“yea,” you nodded. “that shit hurt more than it did when i got it,” you motioned to the peroxide.

“sorry,” steve didn’t know what else to say as he finished his handiwork, releasing your hand before tenderly wrapping your leg in an ace bandage. “it had to be done.”

“i know, it’s just…” you took a deep breath. “damn,” you both laughed at that.

“okay,” steve breathed out, “all done now,” he bent down and placed a soft kiss to your knee as if he kissed it all better.

“thanks,” you smiled before he placed his hands back on your waist, carefully guiding you down. you didn’t have much time before hopper came barging into the house, telling the kids to get away from the windows.

you and steve marched out of the bathroom, you still rolling your pant leg down before they brought an unconscious will back into the house. you swiftly picked up your metal pipe as steve did his nailed bat, nancy held a rifle, hopped held his own gun, and you waited. waited for something, anything.

you turned where each noise came from, hoping to catch it before it caught you.

“where are they?”

“what’re they doing?”

then the noises stopped. you all panned the area, trying to get a feel for where they went. then a demodog came flying through the window.

“holy shit.” you said in unison with dustin.

“is it dead?” max wondered.

when hopper shoved its head with his foot, we were assured it had died. but then the lock on the door came undone. it seemed as though you could never catch a break in this town. a girl began walking through the door, converse clad with a nosebleed.

mike stepped forward, clearly having a close relationship with the girl. it was like watching the sweetest of reunions.

you turned to max, “is that-“

“el?” she finished for you

“y-yea,” lucas answered. “it is.”

“i never gave up,” mike said. “i called you every night-every night for-“

“353 days,” el nodded. “i heard,” she stepped closer to him, still not believing he was finally in front of her after almost a year

“why didn’t you let me know you were there?” he seemed hurt.

“because i wouldn’t let her,” hopper spoke up, stepping forward in the group.

part of you felt as though you shouldn’t be seeing this. you were so new to the group, you felt wrong witnessing such a seemingly tender moment.

“the hell is this,” hopper began to question el. “where’ve you been?”

“where have you been?!” she retorted, a bit snappy. you liked her.

they responded with a hug, tears began to prick your eyes a little before mike ruined the moment.

“you’ve been hiding her,” he concluded. “you’ve been hiding her this whole time!” he punctuated with a shove to hoppers back.

“hey,” hopper grasped his wrists. “let’s talk. alone.”

he led mike into a room, away from the group to discuss things with a bit more privacy. in the meantime, lucas and dustin began to say their hellos to the girl.

“we talked about you basically every day,” dustin mentioned, leaving el to stare at him before tapping his teeth.

“teeth.”

“huh?” lucas and dustin wondered.

“you have teeth,” el rephrased, a bit confused as to why he had teeth.

“oh,” dustin remembered. “you like these pearls?” he began to purr? you think that’s what that was. it clearly surprised el.

max began to walk towards the girl, “eleven?” the girl just stared at max. “hey, um, i’m max,” she stuck out her hand, “i’ve heard a lot about you.”

el just walked past her, rejecting not only a handshake but what seemed like a friendship. but, el wandered into joyce’s welcoming arms.

“what was that?” you questioned.

“i-i don’t know?” max wondered herself, not knowing where she had gone wrong with the incredibly short interaction.

and with the return of eleven, it was as though the master key to a house was returned. everything fell into place as she stated that she could close the gate. she could fix everything.

in order to get the mind flayer’s grasp off of will before eleven shut the gate, joyce, jonathan and nancy went to burn the mind flayer out of him.

meanwhile you were still at joyce’s with steve and the kids. you had been helping max and lucas clean up the living room while dustin and steve were, for some reason, putting the creature in the fridge. mike was just pacing. worrying.

“mike, would you just stop already?” lucas spoke up, somehow annoyed by his movement.

“you weren’t in there, okay, lucas,” mike shouted back. “that lab is swarming with hundreds of those dogs.

“demodogs!” dustin spoke from the kitchen.

“the chief will take care of her!” lucas tried to reason.

“like she needs protection,” you added.

“listen, dude, a coach calls a play in a game, bottom line, you execute it,” steve tried to reason. “all right?”

“okay first of all this isn’t some stupid sports game,” mike rebutted. “and second we’re not even in the game. we’re on the bench.”

“right-right,” steve tried to think of a come back. “so my point is…”

“there’s nothing for us to do,” you finished for him.

“that’s not entirely true,” dustin mentioned, clearly up to something. “i mean the demodogs have a hive mind. when they ran away from the bus, they were called away.”

“so if we get their attention,” lucas interjected.

“we draw them away from the lab,” max added.

“away from eleven,” you finished.

“yeah and then we all die,” steve tried to reason.

“well, that’s one point of view,” dustin retorted.

“no, that’s not a pint of view man,” steve said with an attitude. “it’s a fact.”

“i’ve got it!” mike went into another room, pointing to the drawings of the vines. “this is where hop dug the hole. this is where we get to the vines,” he began to move again. “here, right here. this is like a hub. so you’ve got all the tunnels feeding in here. i think if we set this on fire-“

“oh, yea, that’s a no,” steve interjected, a hand on his hips as he pointed to the child. you nudged steve with your arm, pulling him to the side.

“look, i know i don’t know much about this situation and everything,” you started. “but i don’t think they’ll be able to close the gate at all with all of those dogs for eleven to kill. it seemed like killing only one of them drained her a bit. mike said that place had hundreds, steve. it’s not just our lives on the line. it’s everyone’s.”

he wanted to listen to you. he wanted to help. and he wanted you to know that he cared about what you thought. but he promised them that he would keep the kids safe. he couldn’t break his promise.

while you were trying to reason with him, the kids were still plotting on how to distract the dogs. steve ran his hands through his hair before clapping, getting everyone’s attention.

“hey! hey! hey!!” he shouted. “this is not happening.”

“but-“

“no buts!” he scoffed “i promised to keep you shitheads safe and that’s exactly what i plan on doing. we’re staying here. on the bench. and we’re waiting for the starting team to do their job. does everybody understand that?”

“this isn’t even a stupid sports game!” mike reminded him.

“i said does everybody understand that?” steve repeated. “i need a yes.”

you opened your mouth to begin speaking when you heard a familiar engine revving outside of the house. you and max ran to the couch to peer outside and see who was out there.

“shit,” you turned to max. “billy.”

“he’ll kill us if he knows we’re here,” max told lucas.

“just-just stay inside,” steve motioned to you and max. “both of you, please,” the look in his eyes told you he was serious.

you placed max behind your back and nodded to him, knowing that if he saw you would would know max was with you.

you didn’t know or hear anything that was going on outside. you were just pacing around the living room, trying to remain calm. steve could handle this.

then you saw all the kids duck down from the couch.

“what the fuck guys?” you scoffed at them. “max did he see you?!” the door slammed open, billy walking inside.

“well, well, well,” billy scowled. “lucas sinclair. what a surprise. i thought i told you to stay away from him max,” he said as he got closer to your sister, you were both able to feel his breath on your skin.

“and i thought i told you to brush your teeth this morning,” you got between him and the children.

“she knows what happens when she disobeys me,” he chuckled. “i break things.”

he immediately turned towards lucas before you could move him out of the way. billy had your shirt collar in his hands, shoving you towards the wall before he laid a punch on your cheek.

the kids were screaming, begging for him to stop. he wouldn’t listen after throwing two punches, feeling blood trickling down your nose, he held you tightly once more.

“what is it with that fucking mouth of yours huh?” he chuckled. “always such a bitch. i would imagine that your new boyfriend, harrington would like you much more if you would just keep it shut like a good little bitch, huh?”

“you’re the bitch,” you heard steve announce before he laid a fat one on billy’s cheek, shocking his grip off of you.

you nearly fell to the ground, your balance being less than stellar with your leg already hurting. max was there to help you balance, wrapping her arm around your waist.

“looks like you finally got some fire in you after all, huh?” billy began laughing maniacally. “i’ve been waiting to meet this king steve everybody’s been telling me so much about!” he walked closer to steve.

“get out,” steve ordered.

billy swung, steve ducked to miss the shot before landing another one of his own, sending billy across the room. he landed a couple more blows before billy grabbed a plate, smashing it over steve’s head. steve stumbled out of the room, trying to catch his breath while billy followed.

“nobody,” he picked steve up by his collar. “nobody tells me what to do,” he threw him to the ground.

you could sense that he was about to pound on top of steve, so you shoved billy out of the way, reminding him of your presence to shift his focus. maybe steve would be alright if you were able to distract him for long enough.

“look,” billy chuckled. “little princess with the hurt leg wants to save her boyfriend,” he kicked the hurt leg, sending you falling to the ground, but not before grasping one of billy’s legs, taking him with you.

with billy now on the ground, you rolled on top of him, sending a punch to his cheek. you winded your hand back, ready to send another one before he caught your hand, squeezing it so tight you swear your heard some bones pop.

“he’s-“ you tried to speak through the pain, tears running down your face. “he’s not,” you yanked his hair back with your free hand, shocking him enough to retrieve your hand. “he’s not my boyfriend.”

“right,” he smiled with his head back before spinning you two back over, him now on top of you before landing another punch on your cheek. “he never would be, huh?” another punch. “you’re not good enough for anyone in this goddamn town, as terrible as it is. not good enough for anybody anywhere. you’re just a little girl with daddy issues,” he put his face in your own. “trying to feel love even though you know you’ll never deserve it,” he began chuckling, brushing your hair behind your ear. “you’ll always be that pathetic little whore deep down, huh?”

tears were now flowing down your face, embarrassment long forgotten from the pure pain and torture you felt beneath the boy you should’ve trusted. the boy you were supposed to be able to call a brother. as he spat in your face, you realized he had a hold on one of your hands.

he used the free one to land one more blow to your face before steve tackled him off of you. max had immediately come to your aid, but it wasn’t long before billy was back on top of steve. you pointed to steve, then to the shelf that had the sedative.

“use it,” you nodded towards max.

she marched towards the shelf, grabbing the medicine before shoving it in the back of billy’s neck. he quickly got off of steve, turning to face max. you couldn’t hear what was going on, the ringing in your ears a bit too loud. you saw billy hit the floor, smiling with what seemed like laughter before you hobbled up, grabbing steve’s nailed bat before raising it over your shoulder.

“from here on out you will leave max and her friends alone, got it?” you asked.

he just laughed.

you swung the bat right between his legs, underneath his dick before screaming, “say you understand! say it!”

“i understand,” he finally mustered up the courage to speak.

“sorry, what was that,” you wanted him to be louder.

“i understand!”

“good,” you dropped the bat to your side before grabbing the keys from his belt loop. “joy ride, anyone?” you put on as good of a smile as you could while holding the keys up.

you had told max to drive, your leg still absolutely killing you. you sat in the back, steve’s head on your lap as you doctored up his wounds. it was the hydrogen peroxide that made him wake up.

“shh,” you whispered. “i know, i know,” you ran your hands through his hair.

“y/n?” you nodded at his question.

“let me just clean you up a bit, alright?” you finished pouring the peroxide, letting him squeeze your hand to return the favor from earlier before placing a dab of neosporin and a bandage over each cut while the kids were navigating.

you were paying attention to his wounds but he was paying attention to you. how careful you were. how soft your hands felt on his face, how nice they felt in his hair. was his head on your thighs? they were comfy. soft. he could stay like this forever. until he realized…

“oh my god!” he shouted, moving him from his daydream and back into reality.

“relax, she’s driven before,” dustin tried to convince steve it was fine.

“in a parking lot!” mike added.

steve kept chanting, ‘oh my god,’ as max drove, each of the kids trying to calm him down. it was all stressful and probably too loud for his head. there was definitely a concussion, you just weren’t sure how bad it was.

“everyone shut up!” you ordered. “steve, i couldn’t drive. the douchebag hurt my leg even more, i told her she could, she’s really not too bad. now you have got to breath before you put yourself in worse condition than you already are, got it?” you told him, hands placed softly on both sides of his face to ground his attention.

he nodded, taking a deep breath as you animated with him.

“your face,” he reached up to cup your face, you leaned into his touch.

this one time.

“i’m sorry i didn’t stop him sooner…”

“it’s not your fault, steve,” you gave him a small smile. “billy’s just a douche,” you shrugged. “besides, now i can say that i’ve been in a fight.”

you swore he was leaning into you until max nearly missed her left turn, hitting a mailbox and nearly crashing the car. steve’s arms were flailing everywhere until he wrapped one around your shoulder and the other around your waist.

“jesus, max!” you huffed out. “make a liar out of me, why don’t ya?”

a sigh of relief fell upon the entire group as she put the car in park. “i told ya. zoomer,” she added.

“zoomer?” steve asked you, you laughed and placed your hand over his mouth to shut him up for a moment.

you and the kids got everything out of the car, the masks and goggles to protect yourselves. steve was stumbling out of the car, mumbling about how he told you not to go in there, saying that it wasn’t gonna happen.

“look, steve,” you took your metal pipe out of the trunk. “either you stay here and watch the car or something while i make sure they stay safe or you come with us and help me. your decision,” you shoved his backpack in his direction, along with his nailed bat, before hobbling after the kids.

“y/n,” steve called you back. “you’re hurt. your leg. is this really the best decision?”

“it’s the only decision, steve,” you shook your head. “regardless of whether or not you’re going down there, my sister is not going without me. got it, steve?” he nodded. “good.”

steve jumped in the hole before you, able to catch you so you wouldn’t hurt your leg even more with the impact of landing. you quickly took your hands from his shoulders to turn and observe the tunnels.

“yea i’m pretty sure it’s this way,” mike said, his voice slightly muffled by the bandana around his nose and mouth.

“you’re pretty sure or are you certain?” dustin demanded to know.

“im 100 percent sure!” mike rephrased. “just follow me and you’ll know!” mike began to lead the group.

“woah! woah! woah! hey, hey, hey!” steve shouted. “i don’t think so,” he said as he caught up with mike, leaving max to be your crutch beside you.

“what?” mike questioned.

“any of you little dipshits die down here and i get the blame,” steve said. “got it, dipshit?” you rolled your eyes. “here on out, i’m leading the way. come on, let’s go.”

“my god, what is this place?” you looked around. it seemed like a cave that had little extensions.

“alright let’s keep moving!” steve ordered, moving ahead quickly.

“ahh shit!” you heard dustin’s scream “it’s in my mouth! holy shit it’s in my mouth! ahhh!”

you all ran to where he was, you got on the ground next to him, he grasped your arm as he kept trying to spit it out on the ground, coughing before sitting back up.

“i’m okay,” he breathed out.

“seriously?” you shoved him back before steve held out his hand to help you up, letting his hand linger around your waist.

“really funny man,” steve sassed. “nice, very nice.”

this time he let his hand on your waist guide you through the tunnels beside him, albeit a bit worried about something happening to you. you didn’t mind, you felt max’s presence right behind you.

“alright wheeler,” steve announced. “i think we’ve found your hub.”

it was huge. like a big cave with little extensions in every direction. the little particles dancing around made it hard to see, even still with your adjusted eyes.

“drench it,” mike said.

you all began pouring the flammable liquid you had gathered everywhere, making sure to cover as much surface as possible. this thing would burn. and you wanted to make sure of it.

“you guys ready?” you asked, they all nodded. you turned to steve, his nod ensuring that they were ready before you flicked the flame alive, tossing it onto the ground.

immediately the vines began to come to life, screeching from pain and writhing, trying to escape it.

“let’s go,” steve yelled. “let’s go! let’s go! lets go!” he ushered the kids away, you not too far behind him.

when mike tripped, screaming for help, you were able to whack the vine with your metal pipe, sending it screeching back away from his leg, you ordered the others to keep running before a dog came before you.

“dart?”dustin had asked. “is that you buddy?”

“dustin-“

“trust me!” dustin ordered. “hey, it’s me, it’s me. it’s just your friend. it’s dustin,” he took his goggles off to prove it to the creature. “just dustin, all right? you remember me,” he crouched down to the dog’s level. “will you let us pass?”

the dog snarled at him, seemingly telling the child no.

“okay, okay. i’m sorry,” dustin tried to reason. “i’m sorry about the storm cellar. i know it was a pretty douchey thing to do. you hungry?” he reached into his backpack. “yea? i’ve got our favorite. see? nougat,” dustin began to unwrap the candy for the dog to eat, placing on the ground. “look at that. yummy. here, all right,” he backed away from the dog, waving for everyone to pass the creature while he was occupied. “there’s plenty, i’ve got more,” he offered.

you began to ignore his reunion, instead ensuring that max got across safely, your hand on the square of her back as steve led the group at the front. dustin quickly earned his footing ahead of you before you saw the rope.

steve began lifting the kids up the rope as he heard the roaring of the dogs. first max, then lucas, mike, dustin, then the dogs were too close.

“steve?” you looked at him, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

he grasped your hand, “i’ve got you,” but you opted for wrapping your arms around his torso, his going around your shoulders. you tucked your head into his chest before realizing that they hadn’t attacked you. they were going around.

“eleven,” mike realized.

steve was able to hoist you up, letting the rest of the kids help pull you up before he grasped your hand, you and the kids doing the same for him. once you were all on safe, solid, normal ground, you noticed the headlights of the car getting increasingly bright. eleven was doing her thing. you had helped.

one broken tibia and a month later, hawkins was seemingly ‘normal’ again. you were adorned in a pretty little cast while waiting for max outside of the snow ball dance. you think her and lucas will kiss, she might’ve mentioned wanting to during one of your sleepovers.

you were parked outside of the school, reading the shining for what felt like the 50th time, when a car parked next to your own. you looked across and saw none other than steve harrington in the drivers seat, a dorky grin on his face as he waited for you to wave your hand and motion for him to join you in your car.

“hey,” he opened the door and plopped in. “so, uhhh…”

“yes?” you asked, wanting to know why he had that dopey grin on his face. while it was an obnoxiously cute grin, you still wanted to know what put it there.

“how’s the leg?” he motioned to the one that was bent in your seat, still a bit of grief hit him when he remembers how hurt you had gotten that night.

“y’know,” you shrugged. “it’ll be fine. hurts like hell, though.”

“i’m sorry,” he dropped eye contact with you, opting to look at his hands that were currently cupping his knees.

“for what?” you chuckled. “you didn’t do this.”

“yea but,” he breathed out. “i could’ve. i saw billy when he-he shoved your leg in. you have no idea how-how angry that made me. and how he spoke to you? i just… you are deserving of-“

“hold it, steve,” you put your hand up. “i don’t need you to give me this whole ‘pity speech’ about how i deserve love and how im not broken, okay?” you rolled your eyes. “i know i am and im fine with that. what i don’t need is some guy who thinks he knows me try to tell me that im good enough for him or for anyone else. because frankly, i don’t-i don’t even feel that way, okay? so, please,” you felt tears prick your eyes. “don’t bring that back up. because bill-billy somehow knows my deepest thoughts and fears and i-i don’t want anyone else to even think about them. i just can’t handle it right now.”

“y/n,” he grasped your hand with his own. “it’s okay. it’s okay to not be able to handle something-especially after what you’ve been through,” he brought your hand to his lips. “i care about you. i want you to be able to talk through it, even if it isn’t with me.”

“i can’t,” you shook your head. “i can’t talk to max about this. i don’t want her to see me like this.”

“then she doesn’t have to, okay?” he reached across the console and wrapped his arms around you, letting you cry on his shoulder. “i’m here, it’s okay.”

“it’s just…” you dragged on. “home isn’t good. it’s not even a home. i just try to make sure max is never in the mix when things go down but then i-then,” you choked on a sob before he continued to stroke your back.

he pulled back after a second, “if you and max ever need to just… escape, you know my door is always open,” his eyes searched yours for some sort of confirmation but found a bit of weariness. “my parents are like never home, so you won’t really have to worry about them not wanting you guys around.”

“i wouldn’t want to do that to you,” you shook your head, insistent on the idea that you would be too close to a burden on him.

“do what?” he scoffed with a smile. “rid me of my… i’ll admit, loneliness?”

“steve harrington? the king of hawkins high, lonely?” you rolled your eyes. “yea, i’ll believe it when i see it.”

“then you will come over?” he acknowledged with a shit-eating grin. “see the loneliness, first-hand?”

“maybe, steve,” you sighed. “maybe.”

and maybe you should’ve let yourself hold onto him a little longer. you should’ve let your walls down for him. but you couldn’t. you barely knew him. well, you knew him now. but not outside of trying to save the world. you didn’t know how he was when he was sick. you didn’t know his favorite color.

so for tonight, you let yourself feel. you let yourself weep and break and crumble apart in steve harrington’s arms. chances are he would forget what even happened the next day anyway.

this one time.

tomorrow came. and no sign of steve. then the next, then the next. for some reason you felt disappointed. after everything… no.

you don’t need him. you don’t want him. you are perfect without him. your walls are still intact. you have yourself. that’s all you need.

but max, well, max needed you. sometimes she wouldn’t admit it, but she really did need you. so, you were there.

you drove her to the arcade the fifth day, deciding to stick around and watch her do her thing from inside, cheering her on and handing her more quarters once she ran out.

when you heard the other heathens arrive, you knew who was dropping them off. you opted to not even look out of the glass door. he doesn’t need to know you’ve even thought of his name. maybe you have a bit too much.

“y/n,” steve’s voice rang through your ears. you turned to face him with an obviously forced grin. “sorry i never called, my-“

“oh, doesn’t matter, harrington,” you shrugged. “all is well.”

“i just thought that you maybe wanted to talk since…” he dragged on, not wanting to spill too much with this many ears around.

“look, harrington,” you turned to actually look him in his eyes. “i get that we got a bit close and all because of some life or death situations but you don’t need to pretend to care or be my friend anymore. i just-i need to make sure max is taken care of, and that takes a lot more work than you would think,” you chuckled, trying to break the bridge before your walls became irreplaceable to the brown haired boy before you.

“i was never pretending, y/n,” his eyebrows furrowed at your word-vomit taking a step closer to you while reaching for your hand. “you realize i just want to help, i want to be there for you.”

“i don’t need anyone,” you shook your head, pulling your hand away from his. “i’m fine, harrington. i’ve been fine without someone this far, and i’ll continue to be fine.”

“you deserve to be better than fine, y/n,” he argued, letting your hand fall from his own, as much as he missed its warmth. “and what-what’s happened to ‘steve’? what’s with this ‘harrington’ bullshit again?”

“it’s your name,” you shrugged, avoiding eye contact with the man in front of you. you could feel how close you were to caving in. but you couldn’t. you just… you couldn’t risk it. “i’ll use it how i please.”

“when you decide you want to be more than fine,” he sighed, knowing how stubborn you were. “i’ll always be here. waiting for you.”

you turned around before saying with tears in your eyes, “don’t hold your breath, harrington.”

you felt his hand linger over your shoulder, hesitating to leave his touch before you felt the warmth of his presence retreat. the only sign that told you he was surely gone was the ring of the bell on that glass door and the revving engine of his car.

you wouldn’t have noticed if the glass door had shattered as distracted as you were with the feeling of your own heart doing the same. this wasn’t supposed to hurt. you weren’t supposed to feel anything. but now you felt everything. from the one night, that was supposed to only be one time. so why did you want him all the time?

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x mayfield!reader #max’s older sister #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington fic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader angst

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uvobreakmylegs · 2 years

Text

Digging Deeper

College AU Nobunaga!

Warnings: mentions of violence, unhealthy relationships, smut, noncon, oral (male receiving), abusive relationships

Word Count: 8.8k

“You've got guts, ignoring Nobunaga like that.”

When those words were spoken, your focus was on making sure you had everything you needed for your class that would start in only a few minutes, double-checking to make sure you had completed the assignments that had been required. Since the name you heard wasn't one that you immediately recognized, you ignored the voice. Clearly, whoever was speaking wasn't talking to you.

That was what you thought until you heard that same voice saying your name.

You looked over to find a guy you remembered as being named Konstantin standing next to you, watching at you expectantly as you looked up from where you sat. The two of you weren't friends, so you weren't sure why he would go out of his way to talk to you

“I said, you've got guts ignoring Nobunaga like that,” he repeated, “but you'll regret making an enemy out of him. Making an enemy out of that guy also means making an enemy out of his whole group.”

You stared at him blankly for a few moments.

“Uh, what are you talking about?” you finally asked.

“That stunt you pulled the other day,” he said.

“Stunt? What stunt?”

“C'mon. You really think this clueless act is gonna save you when he catches you alone?”

At hearing that, you started to get worried.

“When who catches me?” you asked.

“You know. Nobunaga. Nobunaga Hazama. One of the top athletes on campus, and the guy that you totally blew off the other day.”

Blew off? What the hell was he talking about?

“I'm sorry, but I really don't know what you're talking about,” you said.

Now it was Konstantin's turn to look confused.

“Do you really not know what you did? Who you pissed off?” he asked you.

“I didn't do anything,” you said, “are you sure whatever happened involves me?”

He stood there in silence for a short moment before telling you “you'll be lucky if all you get is a visit to the hospital.”

That..... Was a lot more alarming, but you weren't able to get any more information out of him as the professor walked in at that moment and announced to everyone to take their seats.

As he returned to his seat, you were able to hear him mumble something about how you were “gonna get it.”

Despite what he had said, common sense told you to ignore him, which was easy enough to do as the professor began their lecture. He was just making something up to tease you; whether it was because he also didn't like you or because he'd been dared to or something you didn't know, but you told yourself to forget about it.

You managed to do that for the most part. Konstantin had made it out to be some big thing, but no one else had said anything about it. So it either wasn't that big of a deal, or it just hadn't happened and your classmate was playing some stupid joke on you. From what you could see, Konstantin spent too much time gossiping and telling far-fetched stories just to try to endear himself to people.

Maybe him trying to freak you out was his way of trying to impress someone or something.

Whatever it was, it wasn't worth worrying about, and the rest of your day and week went on as normal.

But even with nothing happening and the way you assured yourself that the story you heard wasn't important, it wouldn't leave your mind completely. Stupid story or not, it was alarming to hear someone imply that you were going to get beaten up for something that you weren't even aware of.

And who had Konstantin talked about? Some athlete? And apparently an important one at that.

Why you might've caught the attention of someone like that, you also had no clue. You weren't much of anyone on campus. You didn't stand out in any way, instead being happy to keep to yourself and not having much attention on you, and all you were concerned about was getting to your classes on time and making sure you'd completed the relevant assignments. The most you did outside of that was hang out in between classes on the underground floor of the library since not too many people went down there.

So no matter how much you wracked your brain trying to figure out how you had managed to slight someone, you couldn't figure out how or when that had happened.

But the answer to that came about a week later.

Your mind was on other things when you were walking to your next class, your earbuds in place while you dipped behind one of the campus buildings, keeping close to the brick wall. It was a shortcut that not many others seemed to know about, and you had traveled that route so often by now that you were running on autopilot, your thoughts a million miles away.

Because of that, you didn't notice the figure that was approaching you.

You only noticed when you nearly collided into them when they suddenly and purposefully stepped straight into your path. The presence of another person and the fact that you had almost run right into them forced you to come back to reality, and you immediately felt flustered and unsure of what to do as you managed to stop yourself from crashing into them.

Still a bit stuck on autopilot, you kept your eyes downcast as you apologized. Not that you thought you were to blame; in fact you would say that they clearly were at fault for the near collision, but you figured it was better to act like it was on you just so you could avoid any argument.

You didn't look up when you attempted to side-step them, wanting more than anything to be able to go on your way. Whatever weird dominance thing this was, you didn't want any further part in it.

But before you could get away, an arm suddenly shot out in front of you and slammed against the brick wall, effectively keeping you there.

Now you were starting to get nervous, and you looked up to see who exactly was doing this.

A guy that you couldn't remember seeing before stood before you. He was a bit on the taller side, sporting a ponytail that held his long black hair out of his face. He also had some bits of facial hair, and as the two of you made eye contact, he scowled.

He looked pretty irritated.

Should you try to get away? Maybe. But that didn't seem like a particularly diplomatic option and might just make a guy with potential anger issues even more annoyed with you. Pausing your music player and taking out one of your earbuds just so he knew that you were listening, you spoke to him.

“Did you need something?” you asked.

He scoffed a little.

“So that's how I get your attention, huh?” he asked.

Get my attention?

“Ah. Sorry, were you trying to talk to me? I couldn't hear,” you answered as sincerely as possible, pointing to the music player that you had pulled from your pocket.

He was still glaring at you as he asked “and is that supposed to be your explanation for what happened the other time, too?”

“Other time?”

This was nerve-wracking. You had no clue what he was talking about and you were starting to get scared over the fact that you were alone with him. There was no one else in sight.

What would happen if this situation somehow escalated?

“I don't... I don't think I know what you're talking about,” you tried.

“… Is this supposed to be a joke?” he asked.

You shook your head, and you must've looked absolutely terrified in that moment because his scowl softened.

Evidently this guy wasn't completely unreasonable, as he looked down to your music player that you were still holding and his expression became a bit more thoughtful.

Without another word he held out his hand and motioned for you to hand the music player over.

When you didn't do that, he sighed.

“I'm not gonna break it or anything, I just wanna listen,” he explained.

You still didn't want to hand it over, but you remembered that you were alone with this guy, and you weren't sure what the chances were that someone else might come along and get you out of this. His irritation seemed to have gone down when you spoke to him, so in an effort to keep his mood better, you gingerly handed him the device.

Holding up the music player and reaching down with his free hand to grab at the earbud you'd pulled out and slipping it into his own ear, he hit play. The song you had been listening to before he'd stopped you started up and you saw him wince.

“You have your volume up way too loud,” he told you. He began to mess with the volume control, turning the music down until it was at a level that he found acceptable.

Turning the player's screen back towards you, he continued “don't turn the volume up past that. You'll ruin your hearing otherwise.”

“Uh... Thanks for the advice?” you answered, though the uncertainty was still clear in your voice.

But it didn't even seem like he was listening to you, as he had turned off the player and was wrapping the wires of your earbuds around it, pulling out the one that was still in your other ear. He seemed a bit more relaxed now, you noted, almost like he was relieved.

“So that's it. It was just a mistake. You didn't do it on purpose,” he said to himself.

…. What the hell was all this about?

He looked back to you, noticeably more cheerful and he grinned a little as he handed you back your music player.

“Thank you,” you told him quietly.

“No problem,” he answered, “I'm Nobunaga.”

Nobunaga....?

Oh!

“Someone mentioned that I ignored you the other day?” you began, “or more like they said that I blew you off when you tried talking to me? Sorry if I did that. I really didn't notice anything.”

“Don't worry about it. After hearing it firsthand I get how you didn't notice me. But we've cleared that up, so it's all good,” said Nobunaga.

It caught you off-guard with how fast he had switched personalities, this cheerful, almost goofy attitude the complete opposite of how he had been when he had stopped you.

Right. You shouldn't forget the way this guy had stopped you by jumping in your path and forcing you to acknowledge him. Remembering the way this interaction had started had you feeling nervous again.

“Um, so,” you began again, “did you need something?”

“Just wanted to talk.”

“Oh. Um,” you stuttered, not really having the time to talk, “sorry, I need to get to my next class.”

“That's fine. I'll walk you there. Where you headed?” he asked.

“The.... The west science building,” you answered before adding “you don't have to walk me.”

“Nah, I want to,” he said, “here, give me your bag.”

“Huh?”

Nobunaga had barely finished speaking before he was slipping the shoulder straps of your backpack down and off of your arms, the sudden loss of the weight of your textbooks leaving you somewhat unsteady for a few moments. Throwing your bag over one shoulder, he motioned with his head as he told you “let's get going. Your class'll probably start soon, right?”

Still a bit bewildered and uncertain with this situation, you nodded and began to walk forward.

He asked you questions as the two of you walked, just general things such as what you were studying, which classes were your favorite and if you had any plans after graduating. The obligation you felt to keep polite conversation going had you replying to his questions and asking him the same things. Although when you asked what his plans were after he graduated, he just told you that it was a secret.

Nobunaga hadn't even said it in a weird way, but something about it just had you feeling even more uncomfortable with all of this, and you were relieved when the both of you made it to the west science building and came upon your classroom. Finally, this would be over and you could get away from him.

“Thank you for walking with me,” you told him as you took your bag back, “you really didn't need to.”

“I said that I wanted to,” he answered, laughing a little.

“Well, uh, it was nice meeting you,” you said, doing your best to end the conversation as you added “hope you have a good rest of your day.”

With that, you began to back away so you could turn and enter the classroom.

But he stopped you by grabbing you by the shoulder and keeping you in place.

“How 'bout we meet back up after your class is over?” Nobunaga asked you.

“Meet up?”

“Yeah. I'd like to talk more,” he said.

Didn't we talk enough on the way here?

You kept that thought to yourself, however, refocusing on him as he asked “this class only lasts an hour, right? So I'll see you after?”

“Uh, sure?”

Maybe he didn't recognize the clear uncertainty in your voice, because he happily bid you goodbye with a promise of seeing you in an hour.

There was a pit in your stomach when you got into your next class and sat down, and this time it wasn't as easy to just ignore the anxieties that began to fill your head. Agreeing to see him after class felt like a mistake.

But it wasn't clear just how big of a mistake it was.

Suddenly Nobunaga was hanging around you virtually all the time. Walking you to and from class, escorting you to your car, even insisting that you sit with him and his friend group whenever he caught you in the cafeteria.

Getting out of spending time with him was almost impossible, and the only times you were free of him was when he was attending his own classes or sports practice.

At times you berated yourself for letting him walk all over you like he did, calling yourself a pushover for never telling him to stop. But as you did that, you would remind yourself of how he'd been when you first met him. And every time you thought about that, that conversation with Konstantin that you had tried to forget about came back.

Nobunaga had been angry with you, but let it go because it was just an accident.

What would he have done if you really had just ignored him?

Thoughts like that had you just going along with what he wanted, even if all you wanted was to get away so you could have some time by yourself.

Spending time with his friend group was stressful, though.

Despite having not been aware of them before, you quickly learned the reputation that the group had. Most others on campus respected the group, but were also wary about them, like it was best if one were to keep them at a distance. Why that was exactly, you hadn't yet found out.

Nobunaga was closest to the two called Uvogin and Phinks, so during those times when you were with that group, it was usually with them. Sometimes another one joined you, the short one named Feitan who stared at you a lot. You were pretty sure he was doing that to try and freak you out.

He usually succeeded in that. But there were a few times where Nobunaga had noticed how uncomfortable you were getting and told him to knock it off, so that was at least one instance of Nobunaga being nice to you.

He wasn't bad to you at all, really. There'd been times where you had conversations with him and you had felt more at ease when you talked about mutual interests. A few times he'd asked to listen to your music with you, and you sat together sharing a set of earbuds with the music player between you two.

You couldn't say that those moments were bad.

It was just how overeager he was to be around you that made dealing with him less than ideal. A lot of boundary-stomping on his part, though so far he did respect your decision to not allow him to come to your home and the way you declined his invitations to go to his place.

Unfortunately, that sort of thing didn't last forever.

One afternoon on a Tuesday, you and Nobunaga were sitting together outside. Neither of you had any upcoming classes, although he had a practice that he needed to get to in about a half hour so he couldn't keep you there any longer than that.

Just thirty minutes and you could leave.

You couldn't help but notice that something seemed off with him, however.

He'd been quieter than he usually was, which in turn made you a bit more paranoid. Had you done something wrong? Said something that he took the wrong way? You went over all of the interactions between the two of you today as you tried to pinpoint where exactly it would've been that caused you to upset him. But no matter how hard you thought it over, nothing seemed to stand out.

But he was visibly irritated, and the longer he sat there like that, the more it made you nervous: he was acting too much like he had on the day you'd met him.

Should you say something? To at least make an effort to see what was wrong?

“Um...”

Nobunaga turning his head to look at you had your words dying in your throat. How was it this hard to ask someone if they were okay?

“Is.... Is everything okay?” you managed to ask after composing yourself.

He frowned.

“Why are you so scared?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“I thought you were just nervous and that you needed time to get used to me, but we've been together for a while now and you're still acting like I'm one second away from biting your head off,” he said, “I need to push to get you to talk to me, you never spend time with me off campus and the most you ever give me is letting me walk you to your car. All this time and you're still keeping me at a distance.”

….. Been together?

You didn't get a chance to question those words as he continued.

“Did I do something to upset you? Did you hear something about me? Just talk to me so we can figure this out.”

He seemed earnest. Nobunaga really wanted to know what the issue was.

What should you say? That he really did scare you? That while the time you spent with him wasn't completely bad, you'd rather that you not spend every waking moment with him?

You thought again of how he'd been when you first met, and you decided against it. You weren't sure how to communicate all of that without him being upset by it. Better to make up some excuse.

“The.... The thing about when you first tried talking to me,” you began, “where I didn't hear you because I had my music too loud.”

His eyebrows furrowed, but he stayed silent so you could continue.

“Someone mentioned what happened before you, uh, ran into me.”

“And?” he asked.

“Ah.... He, uh, made it sound like you were going to beat me up. A-and that your friends were going to come after me.”

“What.”

Nobunaga looked furious, and it caught you off-guard.

“Who told you that?” he asked.

Without thinking you answered “a g-guy in my class.”

“What's his name?”

That time you had enough clarity to think before you just answered him. You weren't friends with Konstantin and found him to be a little annoying, but if you gave his name to Nobunaga, you were worried that he would confront your classmate and that things would escalate. You didn't want to be the source of trouble like that.

“What's his name?” Nobunaga asked again.

“I.... I don't know,” you lied.

“Then what class is he in?”

“Why do you need to know that?”

“Because I'm pissed,” he answered plainly, “and I want to know who the fuck told you that. So tell me.”

You shook your head.

“I don't.... I don't think I'm comfortable with that,” you said.

His glare worsened when you said that, and it looked like he was ready to force the information out of you, no matter how long it would take.

Part of you was worried that it wouldn't take long at all.

But just then, something changed in him. Shutting his mouth, he took in a deep breath as he closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he seemed calmer.

“Alright,” he said, “I don't really like it, but if you really don't want to tell me, then I won't make you.”

The relief on hearing him say those words was instant, and you breathed out a sigh of relief as you said “thank you, Nobunaga.”

“Just one thing, though.”

You looked back up as he continued “I don't want to hurt you, okay? I like you a lot, and that's one of the last things I would ever want to do to you.”

“... Okay.”

Your response was lackluster, which Nobunaga picked up on. His brows furrowed as he asked “you do believe me, right?”

That time you managed to be a bit more convincing as you answered with a “yeah.”

He seemed satisfied with that. But as he pulled out your music player with the intentions of both of you listening to it, you wondered just how deep the hole was that you were digging for yourself.

The next day was when you had your class with Konstantin. You weren't looking for him when you entered the class and took your seat, and you kept your focus on your notebook and textbook that you'd need for the class.

You did notice a series of hushed whispers coming from behind you, and when you glanced back, you saw two girls who were whispering to each other as they looked at you. They knocked it off when they saw you looking at them.

That's.... Strange.

And yet you still didn't notice Konstantin's absence. Not until after the professor came in and asked why he wasn't in class.

“He's in the hospital. He got attacked last night,” a student called out in response.

A chill went down your spine when you heard that.

Did he really....?

It was too much of a coincidence. For you to have told Nobunaga what had been said to you, and then the day after you find out Konstantin had been sent to the hospital immediately after you said that.

But maybe it was a coincidence? You hadn't given the name, so how would he have known?

….. You needed to talk to him.

It was hard to focus on the rest of the class and you kept feeling like there were eyes on you, like every time you put your gaze back to your notebook page everyone in the class was staring at you, silently accusing you of being the one responsible, even if you hadn't actually done anything.

No one was ever looking at you when you glanced about the room, but no matter how much you found that to be the case, it didn't help with your paranoia.

When your class got out, Nobunaga was waiting outside for you, as anticipated. He smiled when he saw you and asked if you wanted to get something to eat.

“Actually, could we go somewhere private? To talk?” you asked.

He seemed excited, most likely taking it the wrong way as he answered “sure.”

Finding an isolated spot behind a building, you didn't give him any time to speak as you asked “did you beat someone up last night?”

Most people would've reacted negatively to a question like that. Probably shock that would be followed by anger as they vehemently denied it.

But Nobunaga seemed unfazed.

“Why do you want to know?” he asked.

“I heard that the guy who told me about you is in the hospital,” you said, “did you do that?”

He was still nonchalant about the questioning, scratching at his chin as he listened to you. There was a bandage wrapped around his hand that you only now noticed.

“The guys said I should lie to you if you asked about it, but lying to you doesn't feel right, so I'll tell you the truth.”

Nobunaga leaned against the wall of the building as he said “yeah, it was me. Uvo and Phinks were there, too, but I did most of the work.”

“..... Why would you do that? Why did you beat up Konstantin?”

“He told you I was gonna hurt you,” he answered, “and that's why you've been scared, right? This guy convinced you that you weren't safe around me, and that pissed me off. So I taught him a lesson.”

“You said you weren't going to do that,” you said, “you lied.”

“I never said I wouldn't hurt him; I stopped pushing you because you were becoming upset. So I went to my other source,” said Nobunaga, “and if anyone lied, it was you. You said you didn't know his name.”

“.... Because I didn't want this to happen.”

You looked down to your feet, hating yourself for giving the answer that you did.

This is what happens for laying the blame with someone else and not telling him the truth.

Nobunaga's gaze narrowed, and he placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, there isn't something between you two, is there?” he asked.

You shook your head.

“Then why are you acting so guilty?”

“.... I feel bad. I didn't want this to happen,” you said again.

His gaze softened when you said that, and he gave a soft squeeze to your shoulder.

“.... Sorry that I depressed you. Maybe I should've lied,” he said, “but you shouldn't feel bad. He was the one who chose to freak you out. You didn't do anything wrong.”

There was no chance for you to give a response before he began to pull you behind him, citing that he was starving. You watched him as he dragged you along, not able to hear him as he began chatting about something insignificant.

There was no remorse. He didn't care that he'd hurt someone. He only cared that it had upset you. And even then, all he had said was that he should've lied to you.

As you ate your lunch with him and his friends who made vague jokes about what had happened the night before, only one thought was going through your mind:

You didn't want to be near this person.

That Thursday you blew off your classes, staying home after sending an email to your professors that you weren't feeling well. You told yourself that it was okay to do that just this once; you'd shown up for every other class, just having one sick day wouldn't tank your grade.

You spent most of the day in bed after that, though you weren't able to sleep much and spent the majority of the time staring at your ceiling and the decorations you had up on your walls, your thoughts wandering off in different directions before your mind eventually brought you back to your current situation. Your computer stayed off after sending out the emails explaining your absence, and eventually you needed to turn your phone to silent once the messages from Nobunaga came rolling in. You only looked at the first one, where he stated that he heard you had gotten sick and asked if you wanted him to get anything for you.

The fact that he knew about your claims of being sick was disturbing to you. You hadn't messaged anyone other than your professors about that. Maybe there was an innocent explanation, but you had a hard time believing that after all that had happened. Seemed more likely that he was stalking you. That thought wasn't too far-fetched given the lack of boundaries.

Thinking that should've alarmed you, but at the moment you were too tired to care.

So the phone went to silent and you were freed from the sound of your phone going off every other minute.

Eventually you went to sleep.

Friday there was no need to email in any excuses – you didn't have any classes that day. But when you checked your phone again you found that there was a mountain of missed calls and unanswered messages from Nobunaga, and when you read over the more recent ones, he seemed like he was pretty desperate to know how you were doing. A lot of messages asking if you were okay and begging you to respond.

Even with what he'd admitted to, you found yourself feeling badly when you read all of that. Maybe it was dumb of you to feel that way; you weren't sure. Either way it felt like the decent thing to do was to let him know you were fine so he didn't need to worry anymore.

So you typed out a quick message:

Not completely well but I'm doing better than I was yesterday. Sorry for worrying you

You didn't anticipate just how fast he would see and respond to your text. You really didn't want to talk to him even if it would just be over text, but you didn't get a lot of choice in that matter as his response popped up.

Why didn't you reply the first time I messaged you?

Ah.... You'd forgotten that you made the mistake of opening that first text. Seemed like it was safe to assume that he was mad. Better to lie about that.

I didn't realize I opened any message. I must've been half-asleep. Sorry

He didn't reply as quickly that time, and you wondered if he knew you were lying.

Then you saw that he was typing again.

If you say that's what happened, then okay. We're talking now which is what's important

…. So he didn't believe you, but he was willing to let it go, it seemed.

Nobunaga didn't give you a chance to respond as he sent you another text.

Where are you?

…..

That question made you nervous, and you replied with a question of your own.

Why?

I want to see you, was the response.

Why? you asked again.

What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't take care of you?

….. Boyfriend?

You aren't my boyfriend

There wasn't a reply for a while after that. You could see that he was typing, but the little icon that showed him responding kept vanishing and popping up again, indicating that he was typing out various messages before deleting them and starting over.

You were about to put the phone away again when he sent out a reply.

Don't joke like that

You felt yourself starting to get irritated as you wondered how delusional this guy was. He actually thought the two of you were in a relationship? Was that really what he thought what a normal, healthy relationship looked like?

I'm not joking, you replied.

You are and I'm starting to get annoyed

That makes two of us, you thought to yourself.

Nobunaga replied before you could again.

Give me your address. I'll come over and we'll talk this out

No. Absolutely not. You weren't going to let this guy come over to your house. It was bad enough when you needed to be around him on campus. You weren't going to put yourself in a situation where you were alone with him in your bedroom.

There's nothing to talk about

Give me your address

He was having a hard time coming up with a response again as the bubble that told you he was typing kept vanishing and reappearing again.

Please give me your address, was what he finally sent you. As if him being polite about it would be what changed your mind.

You replied with a firm No

He was clearly exasperated with you when he asked Why are you being like this? I just want to make sure you're okay

I told you I was

I want to see you in person

I don't want to see you

Why? What did I do?

He then followed that up with Is it that wrong that your boyfriend wants to make sure you're doing okay???

Something snapped in you at that moment, causing you to be harsher in your response.

You're not my boyfriend. We're not dating. We never have been. You're just some weirdo who decided to strong-arm me into hanging out with you and arbitrarily decided that we were in a relationship. I don't like you and I should've said so in the beginning before you deluded yourself into thinking I would want to be with someone like you. I don't date assholes who think it's okay to beat people up

Your hands were trembling as you hit send, and then you typed up another message before you could reconsider if it was a good idea or not.

Stop texting me, creep

After that, you blocked him.

When you put the phone back down and fell back onto your bed, it felt like a weight had been lifted off of you. It felt good to let that out and tell him how you actually felt.

But then the regret and anxiety had your mood crashing down. He was going to be mad. He probably already was mad. Actually, there was no 'probably' about it. He was definitely pissed off at you. Would his friends be mad, too? Would the thing Konstantin told you initially finally come true and you would become a target of theirs? If a harassment campaign did start up, would anyone working at the college be able to help? Or would the next few semesters you had before you graduated be hell for you?

You felt stupid. This whole time you told yourself to go along with it because of how much he'd scared you, and then when you finally told him how you really felt, it was done in the worst possible way.

But you just didn't want to deal with him anymore.

You'd need to do your best to avoid him on campus come Monday. Not easy when he knew your schedule, but you could probably manage. At least you didn't share any classes with him. That was something to be thankful about.

And there was still two whole days in between now and Monday. That was plenty of time for him to get over it. Given the way he and some of his friends acted, you could easily see them taking him out to cheer him up and encourage him to find someone other than you.

…. Maybe that was wishful thinking. It was more than likely that you'd need to sneak your way around campus and avoid him anyway you could.

But even if you had to do that at first, it wouldn't last forever, you told yourself.

He needed to get over it eventually.

The basement of the library was quiet. Darker than the rest of the building due to the lack of windows, much cooler due to being situated underground, and in general not as many people would go down there.

That helped make it feel more calming for you.

Something you desperately needed after the stressful morning you'd had.

It had started off when you woke up. A bad feeling in your gut that got worse and worse the closer it got to the time that you needed to head off to campus. All you wanted was to stay home and avoid the situation that would no doubt be waiting for you, but while the idea of staying in bed watching movies all day was appealing, it wasn't a good long-term plan. As much as you hated it, you needed to head back to campus at some point.

So you had done your best to push down those worries when the time finally came for you to leave, telling yourself the same thing that you had over the weekend:

Nobunaga would get over it.

Yet the instant you caught sight of him standing out in the hallway in front of your first class, you panicked and ran off to hide in a nearby bathroom. Not the bravest of actions, but it was a better idea to avoid him.

He hadn't been looking in your direction, so you figured there was a good chance he didn't see you. You knew that he had a class around this time as well, so you hoped that he wouldn't be hanging around too long. And that turned out to be the case when you poked your head back out shortly before classes started and found that he was gone.

That was how the rest of the morning went: you ran out of your class the second your professor dismissed you, then hid in a bathroom stall until the last possible moment to ensure you could avoid any sort of encounter with Nobunaga. Rinse and repeat.

The last class you had for the day didn't start for a while, and since you didn't want to be waiting around in a bathroom for over an hour, you figured that the library would give you a good hiding spot. You'd never gone here during those times when you were around Nobunaga, so it seemed safe to assume that he wouldn't know you were here. He didn't have any reason to.

Sitting on the carpeted floor of the library, you had your earbuds in while you looked over a textbook for a homework assignment while you kept an eye on the time. A little less than forty five minutes that you'd need to head out of here. If you were lucky, maybe you could finish the assignment before then.

The calm atmosphere of the basement level continued to relax you, and completing the classwork helped you forget why you were hiding down here. And when that intrusive thought did come back to you, you were able to drown it out more easily. You had set things straight and while you couldn't say that Nobunaga was wrong to be upset (you had let this go on for far too long), it was dumb to stay mad over a failed college romance.

Besides, with him being well-known as a top athlete on campus, he could probably get anybody he wanted. Why would he waste his time chasing someone who wasn't interested?

That thought filled you with a bit more confidence, and you continued your work in peace as the time ticked by.

The music playing in your ears drowned out any and all other noises on that quiet floor of the library.

You were so engrossed in what you were doing that you didn't notice someone coming towards the corner where you were sitting until they were standing right next to you.

Once glance up, and your heart sank when you saw who was glaring down at you.

You'd done your best to avoid him all day, and yet Nobunaga had still managed to find you.

Everything you'd told yourself was immediately forgotten when you saw him, and despite knowing that trying to run away would be a wasted effort, you still began to gather up your things, hoping to then run down the aisle and get away from him.

The hand that yanked you up by your hair put a stop to that.

“Are you serious?” you heard him say over your music, “you ignore me all weekend, avoid me all morning, and then when I finally track you down, you try to run from me? What the hell is wrong with you?”

While you heard his words, the pain in your scalp was the more pressing issue to you.

“You're.... You're hurting me,” you said, your hands going up to his in an effort to get his fingers out of your hair.

He didn't answer and just shoved you down, causing you to fall to the carpeted floor. The fall hurt, and your earbuds fell out when you hit.

Even with how much of your body was aching when you sat up, you tried to get away again, attempting to crawl a short distance away before you would get up and run.

That escape attempt was even less well-received than the first, and before you could get up, he was on top of you, twisting your arm over your back in a position that wasn't comfortable. And when you tried to cry out for help, his hand was in your hair again, gripping it tightly as he hissed in your ear “if you don't start behaving I'll break your arm.”

It was the threat of violence that made you freeze. Made you clamp your mouth shut as you tried to keep any noise from escaping you. Nobunaga could do terrible things to people, and clearly he had no issue doing those things to you.

His grip eased up a bit once you stopped struggling, and the hand on your head began to pet your hair softly in short strokes.

“See? Things aren't bad when you choose to not be difficult,” he whispered.

You didn't answer, too worried about the iron grip that was still clamped around your arm.

“I'm still really pissed off at you,” said Nobunaga as he began to lift himself off of you but made sure to keep a grip on your arm.

“But keep being good for me and this'll be over faster.”

With that, he pulled you up from the floor so you were on your knees, using a fair amount of force to turn you around so you were facing him.

He said that he didn't want to hurt you, but clearly he was still willing to do so.

“Wait-” you started.

“Shut up.”

The situation went from bad to worse when you saw him undoing his belt and pulling down his zipper. In your head, you knew what was going to happen: the both of you were in a dark corner on the basement level of the library where few people would visit. And even if someone did decide to try and head down here, it seemed likely that he'd gotten one of his friends to stand guard by the stairs, to make sure you couldn't get away and that no one could interrupt you two.

Along with how you were still sitting on your knees in front of him and how willing he was to manhandle you into doing what he wanted, it didn't take much imagination to figure out what he was planning.

But you still asked “what are you doing?”

“Phinks said that I'm too soft on you,” he answered, “I didn't agree at first, but after that last text of yours, I see that he's right. So this is your punishment.”

He pulled his cock out from the confines of his boxers, and you watched as it slowly grew hard while he stroked it.

“Please-” you began.

“Oh, now you're being nice. When you realize that I'm putting my foot down and you can't talk your way out of this. Now you want to talk,” he spat, “this could've been avoided, but you were the one who went and ghosted me. This is what you chose.”

His cock was now erect and he grabbed you by the head when you tried to scramble away again.

With his hand firmly gripping your hair again, Nobunaga pulled you up to your knees and shoved his dick into your mouth. You were gagging around his length instantly, your tongue recoiling once his cock brushed over it, and it was only made worse when he began thrusting his hips.

The quiet air of the library began to be filled with the sounds of his groans and your whimpers as he used your mouth. Glancing up at him, you saw that his eyes were closed, and the look on his face was best described as being blissful.

Disgusting. There was no better way to describe what was happening. He was using you how he liked and getting off on that with no consideration for your feelings. In his mind, you deserved this.

Disgusting.

No matter how hard you tried to push yourself off of him, how often you tried to push off using his thighs so you could pull away, the hand at the back of your head guaranteed that wasn't an option. He was only going to let you go when he was finished.

Tears had been trailing down your cheeks the moment that he'd pulled your mouth around his cock, but as he continued his assault, you began to sob, though the noise sounded far more warbled with his length being repeatedly shoved down your throat.

Nobunaga looked down at you then and your eyes met, though you had a harder time seeing him as your tears were blurring your vision.

The sight of you crying made him pause. You let out a breath of relief, even if the tip of his penis was still in your mouth.

But when you tried to pull away again, his hand was just as immovable as ever. Attempting to move again caused him to shove a few more inches of his dick back into your mouth as his free hand went to his pocket. With the tears that still blurred your vision, it took a few moments to see what it was that he'd pulled out:

His phone.

A few seconds later, and a flash that came from the phone's camera blinded you, the brightness hurting your eyes after spending so much time in the comparative darkness of the basement level.

He groaned as he looked at the picture he'd just taken, then snapped a few more which forced you to squeeze your eyes shut.

“Fuck, that's hot,” he breathed.

He started thrusting his hips again, this time at a slower pace.

And then he began speaking.

“You don't know how bad it felt, do you? When all I wanted was to know if you were okay and you just ignored me. I heard that you were sick and I did the thing any decent boyfriend would do and checked in on you. Did you really think I believed your story that you weren't aware of my messages? It was such a dumb lie and it pissed me off, but I thought it was better to ignore it.”

“But then you said that I wasn't your boyfriend.”

Nobunaga's tone changed with that, and the grip he had on your hair caused your scalp to hurt as his pace increased again.

“You can't be that stupid. You can't seriously look at all I was doing for you and think that we were just friends,” he continued, “it pissed me off even more to read that. And then you called me a creep.”

Your hands left their places on his thighs as you now tried to lessen the grip his fingers had on your hair while his balls continued to slap against your chin.

“I wanted to go to where you were. Have one of my buddies figure out your address so I could confront you. But I realized that coming to your house would just make it worse. So I thought I should be the bigger person and leave you alone for a few days so you could come to your senses. And what did I get in return for that? You hiding from me. Can't even talk to me because you know you're in the wrong.”

Delusional. Delusional and disgusting.

“I care about you a lot, but I'm not going to sit back and let you treat me like that,” he said, “hopefully you'll learn from this.”

Then he pulled you onto him as far as you could go, and he stilled as he came with a grunt. There was a warmth that began to run down your throat. His release, which made you sputter and try to spit it out even though your mouth was still full of his cock.

When you stopped trying to force him out was when he finally pulled out. Some of his semen was still in your mouth and had begun to drip from the corner of your lips. Nobunaga noticed and was taken by the sight, bringing up his camera again while the hand in your hair left so he could pry your mouth open.

The flashes of brightness made you squeeze your eyes shut again, the image burned into your retinas.

After snapping more pictures, he finally let you go. You fell back to the floor on your hands and knees and began to cough up his release, spitting up whatever had been in your mouth onto the carpet.

You were still coughing when you heard Nobunaga make an annoyed noise.

“Next time I won't let you spit it up. You'll swallow all of it.”

You couldn't give a response. Your throat felt too raw and your jaw hurt. And even if you could respond right now, all that would do was make him hurt you again.

Why did this happen?

Why did he need to pick you?

Even after spitting up as much of his release as possible, the taste still remained. But you doubted he would let you go rinse it out. Glancing back up at him, you found that his zipper had been closed and his belt redone, and he still had the phone in hand, but based on the way he tapped the screen, it seemed like he was sending a message to someone. The light from the screen illuminated his face, and you saw a slight blush that remained on his cheeks.

A reminder of how much he'd enjoyed himself.

He looked at you when he put his phone back in his pocket.

“Are you still going to act up?” he asked.

It wasn't acting up. You didn't like him and didn't want to be around him. Especially if he was putting people in the hospital and forcing himself on others.

But after what he'd done to you, what exactly would he say if he felt that you hadn't learned your lesson?

What would he do to you?

You hated it, but you forced yourself to shake your head, tears welling up again as you made yourself swallow your pride.

You could hear the smile in Nobunaga's voice as he said “that's a relief.”

He sat down next to you and pulled you by your arm so you were sitting next to him. Finally you made yourself look back to him, and you saw that easy-going, slightly goofy smile on his face again.

How could he do that? How could he have done what he did to you, and then act like nothing had happened?

With the both of you leaning against a shelf of books, Nobunaga reached for your music player that had been dropped earlier. It was still playing, and as he brought an earbud up to his ear, he winced.

“I thought I told you not to play your music so loud,” he mumbled as he adjusted the volume once again.

Placing one earbud in your ear, he put the other in his before going through your song list until he came to one that he liked, letting that one play as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and brought you closer.

“I-I need to go to class s-soon,” you whispered.

“It starts in twenty five minutes. We've got time,” he answered, “and after class, you're gonna come over to my place and we'll spend some time together.”

“I d-don't-”

“You're coming.”

The harsh edge to Nobunaga's voice and the way he gripped your shoulder forced your mouth shut, and you nodded after he gave his order. Immediately, that hand was rubbing your shoulder while he leaned in to press a kiss on your cheek.

The two of you sat together in that aisle, listening to the cheerful music from your player that directly contrasted the awful feelings running through you now. Tears began to well up in your eyes once more, and Nobunaga noticed when they began to fall.

He cooed at you as he wiped them away with his thumb, not at all caring that he was the reason that you were crying.

In his mind, you'd come around eventually.

#reader insert #nobunaga x reader #yandere nobunaga #hxh #yandere #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere x reader #nobunaga hazama #college au #yandere hxh

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