#even taylor swift has her moments but most of her songs i just could not care less about bc they're not awakening anything in me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jamminvroomvroom · 5 months

Text

our secret moments.

ln x fem!reader // childhood friend to lovers

in which you’re friends. best friends. but then you buy a dress for him to take off.

this one is for you guys. thank you for inspiring this, my beloved dress anons. i hope you guys love this as much as i do, and that i got it right for you! obsessed with the concepts and brain rot that went into this aaaaaaa lemme know what you think i beg <3 also sorry if the formatting gets weird, trying out smau elements again :D

songs to set the mood: DRESS by taylor swift

warnings: 18+!! minors dni! smut, oblivious friends to lovers, fluff, minor angst, mutual pining, general sex acts, language, an argument

5.6k words

your dress sparkles like a mirrorball as the lights flash along the strip.

vegas week begins with a bang; it’s the night of lando’s 24th birthday. the name of your dad’s company is plastered all over the city, as it usually is wherever there’s a race weekend. a round of golf leads to dinner plans and you get dressed up nice with your girlfriends.

you’re almost ready when lando texts you, your friends giving you a look that you brush off when they see the papaya heart next to his name. you tell him you’ll all be ready soon, that’ll you meet him and the boys in the lobby.

high heels sound against the marble floor of the hotel. you walk confidently, tall, scanning for the group of men you’ll be spending the evening with. you spot max fewtrell first, your dear friend here for the occasion, and then ash, who has his back to you. it’s because he’s talking to lando, your best friend, the man that made you fly in to sin city a week earlier than you would have liked.

he’s looking at you before you even see him, watching you walk towards him over ash’s shoulder. he’s checked out from the conversation the second he spots you, glittering under the chandeliers. he can’t breathe, because you’re wearing a dress that renders him somewhere between life and death.

but you’re getting closer, and max, who can see the look on lando’s awestruck face, nudges him so hard in the ribs. he forces himself to inhale, smile, keep breathing.

“good evening, mr norris.” you grin, squeezing his shoulder. “we starting with slots or drinks?”

both is the agreed upon answer, and you let loose in the casino. you watch him roll the dice at one of the game tables, and suddenly, you’re twelve years old again, playing board games on the floor of a hotel room, while your dads talk at the bar downstairs.

your father is, perhaps, the worlds biggest motorsport fan. he’d been sponsoring different series’ since you were little, and he hadn’t stopped expanding as you’d gotten older. that’s how you’d met lando, aged ten years old with braids in your hair, covered in mud, somewhere in the english countryside. you’d been going to kart races since you could walk, and you were sure from the first time you spoke to the small british boy that you’d be destined to meet him. he’d left a mark on you that day, something golden; he radiated sunshine.

your friendship flowed like wine over the years, nice and easy. time on the road with your father meant that lando was the friend you saw the most, and it stayed that way throughout your teenage years. lando’s step up into formula 1 was paired very well with your dad’s investment into mclaren, and five years later, you rarely missed a race.

lando was so easy to be friends with that it was only natural that he was just as easy to love. platonically. you loved him platonically. it was easy to have late night dinner’s with him in his hotel room, easy to walk around the cities you visited with him until your legs hurt, easy to fall asleep on his bed after a netflix binge. so when he told you to pack your bags and be in vegas, it was like he’d pulled an invisible string, because of course, that’s where you would be.

your friend is waving her hand in front of your face when you finally snap out of it. you’ve been staring across the room for god knows how long, and now the girls are laughing at you.

okay, so maybe it’s not just platonically, but you’d rather die than admit it.

“still gonna tell us there’s nothing between you?” nancy, one of your closest friends, teases. your other friend, mia, is giggling beside her. they’d both flown out for the race as well, and had spent the last two years helplessly watching you fall harder and faster.

“shut up,” you whine. “he’s my-“

“best friend.” they both cut you off in unison, mockingly. nancy rolls her eyes.

“he is!” you protest, waving them off.

you leave them in the dust to join the lads at the table. lando’s arm is draped over your shoulder the second you arrive.

“lost your millions yet?” you whisper into his ear. he tuts in response, knowing grin on his face.

“you have no faith in me, honey.” he bumped your hip with his as he spoke.

the game continues, and somehow, much to your surpise, lando gets richer. the walk from the casino to the club is short, and soon enough, you’re drunk and sweating under strobe lights. rounds and rounds of shots disappear and you sink deeper and deeper into the booth you’d reserved.

you let the music thrum through your body, closing your eyes in contentment. a knee nudges yours, and you open your eyes to see lando sliding into the booth next to you. he hands you a drink, and you mouth him a thank you.

“got your eye on anyone here?” lando’s head is resting in the crook of your neck when he asks. it’s obviously just so that you can hear him.

you pull back from him, scanning his face for a moment, really taking him in. the slope of his nose, curls matted on his forehead, grey blue eyes that you swear flit to your lips for just a second. just a brief second. you smile, soft and tired.

“nope.” you mouth back to him. “you?”

lando returns your smile, mirroring you perfectly. he shakes his head.

it’s around 3:30am when you crave the sweet release of sleep. your feet are aching and your head is throbbing. no questions are asked when lando offers you a piggyback ride.

you ignore the way your friends look at you both when he carries you up to your room.

youruser just posted on instagram

liked by: landonorris, yourfriendnancy, yourfriendmia, maxfewtrell and 378,654 others

youruser: sin city for nozza’s birthday

user: are they together?

otheruser: mother?

landonorris: lost millions.

user2: the photo of the dress next to the photos of lando? she’s tryna tell us something i think.

and 444 other comments

you ignore the nausea pooling in the pit of your belly.

apparently, the medical centre isn’t that far away when you sprint there. harsh fluorescent lights greet you when you burst through the door, searching for a mop of curls and a burst of orange. your eyes find adam, lando’s dad, and you rush to his side.

“is he okay?” something about the fear in your eyes makes adam crack a smile. it seems there’s no hiding how you feel from anyone except lando.

“they’re just checking him over now, think they might take him to the hospital, just to be safe.” adam explains. “he was asking for you.” he smiles again.

“so it’s just precautionary?” you ignore the last bit. you ignore the way it makes your stomach twist and your brain fight to keep a smile off of your face.

“you can see him, if you want.” adam gestures towards the nearest examination room.

you’re gone before he can say anything more, bursting into the room without even thinking of knocking.

lando’s pretty much stoned. god knows what they gave him but it seems to be working; he’s propped up on the bed, cracks a sleepy smile when he sees you.

“hey, pretty girl.” he drawls, waving slowly. you pray you’re not blushing.

“scared me out there, you prick.” you joke, but your voice shakes.

“c’mere.” he frowns, so you walk around his bed. he slaps the small spot next to him clumsily, and you perch on the edge of the bed.

lando grabs your hand, pulling you in closer, eyelids drooping as he does it.

“i’m sorry, honey. always wanna race well for you.” lando is pouting. he’s fucking pouting at you.

“hey, hey, it’s fine! as long as you’re okay.”

he nods like a child being told off, but he doesn’t drop your hand. he doesn’t drop it in the helicopter to the hospital, either.

youruser just posted on instagram

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youruser: alls well that ends well (but i’m in a new hell every time you go to the hospital)

landonorris: whoops?

user1: THE TAYLOR LYRICS HELLO?

user44: do y’all think we can’t see you.

user2: 3RD SLIDE HELLO?

yourfriendnancy: anyway. the dress ate.

otheruser: @ yourfriendnancy WHAT DO YOU KNOW

and 567 other comments

“i just don’t get why you keep wearing the fucking shoes if they hurt so much.” lando bumps your shoulder with his, teasing you.

“sometimes you do what you gotta do for the ‘fit.” you huff, trying to keep up with him.

you’re on your way to dinner with lando, marking your first night in dubai. the restaurant isn’t too far, but your shoes are simply not cooperating. you’d left lando to book a table, knowing that a name drop from him would mean good food and not too many people there to watch you both eat it. after vegas, the rumour mill was working overtime, and you’d had a headache for two days as a result.

none of your other friends have arrived in the emirates yet, so it leaves just the two of you to hang out. it’s something you usually love to do, but after the whirlwind of the last few days, it makes your tummy twist.

you can’t stop thinking about the hospital, your hand in his, the way he’d demanded you accompany him despite the presence of his literal father. you absolutely can’t stop thinking about “pretty girl” or the lazy smile on his face when he said it, like it was what he always called you. he usually sticks to honey, not the most platonic thing in the world, but he said it once and it just stuck.

you’re pulled out of your downward spiral by the way he suddenly comes to a stop in the middle of the pavement. you look at him confused, but then he’s making a suggestion that makes you want to lay done in front of an oncoming ferrari.

“want me to carry your shoes? you can put them on right before we go in.” lando shrugs. you must be blushing by the way he fights off a smile.

“lando, i cannot walk down the streets of dubai shoeless.” you scowl. he chuckles.

“says who? give ‘em here. you can wear mine if you want.” lando reasons, and after staring at him likes he’s grown a second head, you cave.

you start to crouch down but he beats you to it. your breath hitches in your throat when his fingers graze your ankle. you watch in shocked silence as he undoes each clasp, letting you step out of the shoes. the pavement is relatively cool under your feet, and it snaps you out of your state. you decline his offer of his own shoes, and he’s started walking again when you stop him.

“lando, why are you doing this?”

“you took good care of me last weekend. least i can do.” he tells you, and you nod once. “c’mon, we’re gonna be late.” he ushers you along and you walk the rest of the way in silence, silver heels swinging in his hand.

youruser just posted on instagram

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youruser: dinner w bestie

user: lando took this. bet.

user3: her other friends aren’t in abu dhabi yet she has to be with lando

landonorris: how was dinner?

youruser: @ landonorris u tell me.

user4: a date if i ever saw one?

user63: are we sure they’re not just friends?

user4: @ user63 girl. be so fr

and 329 other comments

the restaurant is licensed, so you find solace in a glass of white wine. lando sticks to water.

your mains arrive and you natter back and forth, discussing the end of the season and any gossip you may have acquired. you barely stop laughing, head thrown back every time he opens his mouth. it feels easy again, and you find yourself thawing out, previous worries shoved to the back of your mind.

“so what’s next year looking like? last year of your degree.” lando wiggles his eyebrows, wearing a hint of pride on his face.

“might have to stay away from race tracks for a while. it’s gonna be a busy year.” you sigh. his face obviously falls.

“how long is a while? need my cheerleader.” it’s said in jest, but desperation lies in the outskirts of his voice.

“until the summer break.” you frown. you’d gotten far too comfortable studying on the road.

“can’t you continue as you are? i’m gonna mis- your dad will miss you.” lando corrects himself and your fork clatters against your plate.

“can’t get rid of me too easily, norris.” you clean up the awkward mess before it can even become one, returning to the lighter side of the conversation.

“trust me, i’m not trying to.” he flirts. in jest.

you roll your eyes and gulp down wine.

youruser just posted on instagram

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youruser: new heights n pretty lights

user2: i know who took 3/4 of these pics.

landonorris: i want that hat back btw

user6: she is the moment

user: mommy? huh who said that?

and 588 other comments

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lando.jpg: from the road

oscarpiastri: violation.

youruser: can u send me these. especially the one of oscar :)

user4: WAIT didn’t she post the second one a while? LANDO TOOK IT?

user81: oscar 😭😭

maxfewtrell: why don’t you take nice pictures of me like this?

user11: the wags are fighting omg

and 799 other comments

your back is to his chest and the music is unbearable. it doesn’t stop you from swaying your hips against his.

nothing beats the abu dhabi grand prix’s after party.

lando stays p6 in the championship, but it’s only by one stupid point. celebration is certainly called for, and you bask in the freedom of the season ending.

you don’t even want to think about the way he hugged you when he got out of the damn car.

so you don’t. you drink and you dance and you beg for someone else to try and take you home so that you can avoid him. you’re scared, fucking terrified, and avoiding him seems like the best option.

that’s until he finds you in the sea of people, because of course he does, and you get closer, closer, closer, until there’s no room for god and his hands are on your hips.

it feels too fucking good to stop, you can’t even compute pulling away, so you let yourself go. what’s the point in trying to hide the way you feel when he’s holding you against his crotch? ah, yes. a cornerstone of friendship.

but it’s too hot and it’s too bright and it’s too loud and the anxiety hits. it hits and you can’t stop the way you freeze up against him. you’re sick to death of pretending. you’re sick to death of nights like this one repeating themselves far too often, only to wake up in the morning and act like it means nothing. like the way he holds you and looks at you and touches you means nothing.

no matter how drunk he is, no matter how far gone he is, he knows you too damn well. he’s spinning you around in his arms and pulling you through the hoards of people.

cool air lands on your flushed skin and you realise you’re in the smoking area. lando looks wrecked, but he’s watching you as intently as he can manage.

“you okay, honey? want me to take you home?” he’s rubbing your arm as he speaks and tears well in your eyes. you’re not entirely sure why.

“stay, i don’t wanna ruin your night.” you croak. you need to get out of there immediately.

“no, no, no, you’re my priority, i’ll call us a driver and w-“

“stop it, lando. i can go back to the hotel alone.” he looks bewildered, and you don’t blame him. you sound harsh, way too harsh considering what he’d offered.

“i should take you.” he replies quietly and you feel bad.

great, now you are crying.

“just- i don’t want this to change, i don’t want us to change and if you keep on like this-“

alas, everything changes, then. every unsaid word is fair game and neither of you are holding back. the shots you’ve thrown back fuel an explosion.

“if i keep on like this? what, you think i don’t see the way you look at me?” lando’s words hit like venom and you’re white hot with embarrassment.

fiery despair hits you and you’re bound to regret every word when you’re sober and sane.

“at least i don’t fuck with your head.”*

“you think that doesn’t fuck with my head? the one woman i- fuck, you know what? it doesn’t matter.” he bites his tongue but you most certainly don’t.

“what? what, lando? as if the way i look at you compares to carrying my shoes and putting me to bed and calling me pretty and every other thing that you do to drive me up the fucking wall.” you spit.

your tears burn your cheeks, you’ve always been an angry crier, and they fall faster when he practically deflates and turns away, disappearing into the club.

you make your getaway, your father’s assistant sends you a car.

you cry yourself to sleep in your hotel room, watching the orange sun rise.

the flight home is quiet.

your plans to fly home with lando are abandoned, and you board the earliest flight available.

you never fight with him, so you don’t know how to proceed. everything had changed in a matter of words and you ignore the lump in your throat when you land in miserable, rainy london alone.

you’re surprised to see your dad’s blacked out range rover waiting for you when you get through customs. he’d been on the first flight out of the emirates as soon as the race had finished, and you assumed he’d be asleep for at least a day or two. the man never rests during the season, from the minute the lights go out in bahrain, until the flag falls in abu dhabi. then, he biblically crashes, the excitement and adrenaline hibernating until next year. average behaviour for the world’s biggest motorsport fan.

he’s out the car and opening the boot for you before you even reach him, and he’s pulling you into his fatherly embrace when you finally do. you let out a shaky breath, having been in desperate need of a hug.

“hey, kid.” he mutters into your ear. maybe it’s good to be home.

“what are you doing here?” you ask from the passenger seat, once all of your luggage is packed into the car.

your dad sighs, turning to look at you. you groan, thudding your head against the headrest. you know that look, the one that precedes a motivational speech, a bit of tough love, and usually very sound advice that you never ask for.

“lando called me.” he deadpans. they’d grown somewhat annoyingly close over the years.

“fantastic.” you reply, sarcasm as clear as day.

“he was beside himself. told me what happened.” your dad says softly and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“it’s so, so fine. i don’t wanna talk about this.” your voice trembles and you don’t have the energy to cry anymore.

“there’s nothing wrong with telling him how you feel, sweetheart. don’t throw something away because you’re scared.” and, here we go… you think.

“i can’t lose him.” you whisper, furiously wiping away the stray tears that fall, staring out the window.

“you won’t lose him if you tell him. trust me, kid. we all see how that boy adores you. no father ever thinks a guy is good enough for their girl, but lando comes pretty damn close.”

“i don’t even know where to begin.” you rub your temples, battling the tension headache you’d developed sometime the night before.

“well, start thinking. you’ve got a week.” you can see your dad smirking from the corner of your eye.

“what?” you blurt, blindsided. you’d need more than a fucking week.

“end of year gala, kid. pick a dress.”

fuck.

youruser just posted on instagram

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youruser: commotion for the dress?

yourfriendmia: *commotion*

user5: on my knees begging

user1: no lando like? divorce? 😟

mclaren: always good to see you! 🧡

yourfriendnancy: kicking my feet looking at this lord have mercy

and 504 other comments

you’re glowing, draped in champagne pink silk.

from the other side of the room, you watch lando, and he watches you. it’s like a game, who’s gonna break first? who’s going to extend the olive branch?

he looks so pretty in his suit that you would cry if there were any tears left in you, if you hadn’t purged them all out of frustration and longing in the week of radio silence.

you’re nursing a glass of champagne, waiting for dinner to start. the room is full of rich people with big ideas, icons of the racing world, both past and present. you make small talk with oscar and his girlfriend, exchange pleasantries with your father’s many friends, and beg that lando makes the first move.

the clinking against a glass indicates that dinner is ready to be served, and you scan the tables for your place card. apparently, the event coordinator has a vendetta against you, because scrawled in deep orange cursive on the place card next to yours is mr lando norris. you scan the room for the nearest exit. your grand scheme to flee in a floor length gown and too high heels is interrupted by the sound of your chair scraping out next to you.

you feel a ghost of breath against your bare shoulder. curls tickle your skin and then, a head rests in the crook of your neck.

he says your name, and the world stops for a second.

“i’m sorry.” lando whispers in your ear, and your heart falls to your stomach.

you whip around, holding him tight as you wrap your arms around him. the tension plaguing your body since abu dhabi dissipates in seconds.

“don’t apologise. just… i missed you.” you sigh.

“you look… fuck. you’re gorgeous.” he breathes in your ear. one hand skims low over your waist. something inside of you explodes.

you don’t even try to fight the blush that tinges your cheeks.

someone important is trying to make a toast, so you take your seats. you’re not listening to a word being said, though. you just smile at lando, and lando smiles back.

you’re gonna tell him, you decide. he has to know, although you suspect he already does; you can’t imagine another day without the privilege of him looking at you the way he is right now.

dinner is a breeze. you eat, drink, laugh at the stories exchanged. you remember why you love this world you were raised in, and find yourself grinning mindlessly at your father as he rattles off yet another wild tale from your travels. you’re lucky, you know you are, and it’s reaffirmed when the man sat beside you - who you think you love a bit more than platonically - drapes his arm over the back of your chair.

plates are cleared away and a band starts their set on the makeshift stage. the mtc is lit so beautifully, fairy lights twinkle above you casting dainty light over the makeshift dance floor.

“dance with me.” lando requests. he hates to dance at these functions, so you know the request comes from the heart.

“lead the way.”

he takes your hand and you make your way onto the floor, which is slowly filling up with other couples. his hold is firm, yet gentle, and you lean into him as he keeps you close. eventually, your ear is to his chest, and you can hear his heart hammering away. you melt further into him as the song plays out, and you wish it would play forever.

“we gonna talk about it?” lando murmurs, just loud enough over the music.

“we are.” you mumble against the lapel of his jacket.

“come home with me.”

you nod, inhaling the scent of his cologne; god, how you missed every little part of him.

you keep dancing and dancing, until the champagne runs out and the band starts to pack up.

the door slams softly behind you.

lando takes your coat, and you drop your bag on his coffee table. when you turn around to find him, he’s stood in the doorway watching you. there is so much to say, but you can barely form a thought.

“i can’t take this any longer.” lando tells you.

your breath hitches in your throat.

“neither can i.” you whisper.

“we can be more.”

“what do you want us to be?” your chest is tight and you’re looking at him so fucking intensely, desire as clear as day in your eyes.

“you know what i want. and i know you want it too.” he walks towards you slowly as he speaks, footsteps punctuating each word.

“i need to hear you say it.” you breathe. you’re shaking; you’re not sure if it’s the anticipation or the way you’re holding yourself back.

“all i want, all i ever wanted, is you.” he’s right in front of you and his hands are on your waist. you’re tingling everywhere.

lando’s nose bumps yours. you’re scanning his face, every line, freckle, slope that maps him out. he can’t help but look at your lips, darkened eyes flitting over your face. all you can hear is shaky breaths, and perhaps your heartbeat ringing in your ears.

“can i…?” lando mutters.

you close the gap some more, lips brushing his.

“of course you can.”

he kisses you like he’ll die if he doesn’t. his hands cup your cheeks and yours find his neck, gently pressing your fingertips into his skin. lando’s frantic, passionate, oh so careful as he deepens the kiss, pulling you somehow closer. you hum in surprise, and you feel him smirking. he’s moving hungrily, and you’re starving, impatient when your hands find his curls. the groan he emits at the sensation makes you ache for him all over.

you’re both panting when you pull away, the urgency to breathe the only thing stopping you. the relief you feel is astronomical, your lips lock perfectly and he feels wondrous under your explorative hands. he smiles wide and you grip his collar, pressing your forehead against his.

“i was gonna tell you, and then you turned up looking like this… fuck.” lando groans, and you can’t help but lean up into him once more.

the kiss is slower this time, languid, and he licks slowly into your mouth. his pupils are blown when you break apart and his eyes flutter open. your thighs clench under your dress.

“so, you like the dress?” you giggle incredulously, buzzing from the interaction. lando looks at you like you’re stupid.

“you look…” he runs his eyes over you, pausing mid sentence tentatively.

“say it.”

“fucking incredible.”

“thanks. bought it with you in mind.” you tease, smirking coyly.

his jaw goes slack; you can see him mentally undressing you, and then he’s kissing you all over again.

his bedroom isn’t far, but he insists on carrying you there, sweeping you up into his arms. he peppers kisses over your neck, kicking the door open with his dress shoe.

lando places you on your feet at the foot of his bed, smoothing his hands over the curve of your waist, the silk of your dress. he tucks your hair behind your ears, drawing you close once more as he does, cupping your face in large, calloused hands.

“what do you want tonight?” lando asks, searching your face for any sign of hesitancy.

“need you. all of you.” you keen into his touch, and his breath hitches in his throat.

“we’ll go slow.” he murmurs.

“no.” you shake your head, and his hands drop from your face. “don’t want to hold back anymore.” he finds your ass, grazing his fingers upwards until he finds the fastening of your dress. you maintain eye contact while he drags the zip down, shivering as your hear the faint buzz of the metal.

lando stops, just for a second in an attempt to compose himself.

“take it off. bought it so that you could take it off.” your brutal honesty breathes some urgency into him.

he keeps his eyes on yours as the silk falls off your body, pooling at your feet. the cool air brushes your skin - covered only by lacy panties and stilettos - but his touch warms you when he grabs your waist. lando walks you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the foot of the bed. he places you on the bed, on top of you like a shot, kissing you into the mattress.

he clambers off of you, sliding down your body until he reaches your heels. kisses trail up your legs while he takes them off, the thud of them hitting the floor making you jump. anticipation pools in your barely there underwear; he can see you, all of you, and he cannot bring himself to look away.

“careful with those, they were expensive.” you joke, but your voice sounds wrecked already. you can’t even imagine how you’ll sound when he’s done.

“i have different priorities right now.” he flashes a grin and you lose him between your legs.

your underwear stay on when he dives into your pussy, teeth scraping over your covered folds. he can definitely taste you already, stuttering out a moan as he casts his tongue over you. you sink deep into the sheets, bucking your hips into his face, but his hold on you is firm and you have to relent. he lets go of you for a moment, just to pull your panties down, and as soon as they’re gone, he’s delving deep into you.

the sounds he’s making are obscene, his entire face buried away. lando flicks his tongue over your clit, beginning an extended assault on your nerve endings, sucking hard and fast until you whimper his name. a knot forms in your core.

lando takes his mouth off of you, lips slick and glistening. he swipes his tongue over them, sitting back on his haunches. he begins rolling his sleeves up, and you manage to push yourself up so that you’re resting on your elbows. you reach out to toy with the buttons of his dress shirt, leaving his torso exposed to you. you rake your nails over his abs, transfixed on the way he tenses, shudders under your touch. once his sleeves are out of his way, he pushes you back. your hair fans out around you as he resumes his position between your legs.

one finger ghosts over your clit, poking and tracing the bud. you’re reeling, writhing at the feeling of everything and almost nothing at all. he drags the digit down until he finds your entrance, abandoning the teasing and slipping it inside of you. he twists his wrist, adding a second finger, grinding them deep. he’s slow with it, watches the way your face twists in euphoria, finding a deep sense of pride in the way he makes you shake.

“you have no fucking idea how long i’ve wanted to do this.” his words have you clamping down on him, fucking yourself onto his hand.

“the feeling’s mutual.” you gasp.

lando cocks an eyebrow. he scales your body until he’s hovering over you again, fingers still working in and out of you. the angle change is delightful, your back arching and your nipples harden as they skim his bare chest.

“is it, honey? was it mutual all those nights i pictured you next to me, right on this bed? all those nights i watched you dance in your short skirts? all those nights i carried you to bed and wished i could stay?” he whispers right into your ear. his fingers speed up.

“fuck, lando. yes.” you cry, mouth hanging slack.

“tell me. tell me how mutual it was and i’ll let you come, pretty girl.” he teases; goosebumps litter your skin. there he goes again with pretty girl. this fucking man.

“always wanted more… was too scared to ask for it.”

“oh?” he coos, mockingly.

“couldn’t lose you if you didn’t want me.” you pant. a weight lifts off your chest as you let the words slip, his efforts sending you hurtling towards an orgasm.

“not going anywhere.” he kisses the base of your throat. “ever.” he punctuates, thumb sliding over your clit. “let go, love.”

the wave of pleasure crashes on your shores and it doesn’t stop, rippling through your belly and down into your toes. lando’s name falls from your lips like a sin, over and over until you can’t even hear yourself anymore.

lando’s smiling when you come down, small and knowing. he pecks your lips, once, twice, humming into the kiss when your hands find a home under his shirt. it’s unbuttoned already, so it slides over his bronzed shoulders easily. you hear it thud softly when it hits the floor.

“what?” you catch him looking at you, giddy.

“i can’t believe we’re doing this.” he grins. his words overwhelm you.

“i know.” you beam up at him bashfully.

he undresses himself and then the wait is over, and god knows it was a long one. he finds home between your thighs, runs his cock through your folds.

“you sure?”

“don’t make me wait any longer.” you insist.

it takes you a moment to adjust; he strokes your walls nice and deep and you feel everything he has to offer you. it’s surreal, really, stretching around him like this. you’d only ever daydreamed of the possibility, and now that it’s happening you can’t quite believe it. he moans low, forehead resting on yours. you watch his eyes roll back when he bottoms out.

your lip is quivering; it’s too intense, he’s too good. he takes it slow, just like he’d insisted, but he grinds deep, long strokes making you dizzy. you leave imprints of crescents in his shoulder blades, marking his pristine skin.

you can’t take much more of this, his hips hitting yours at such a delectable pace. he drags in and out, building a blissful rhythm and you’re whimpering into his neck. your teeth dig into the muscled plane of skin, minimal pressure applied, and his thrusts turn erratic, curses tumbling freely from his pink parted lips. it makes you squirm, spilling all over him, white hot and wet.

lando collapses into your damp body, the room is humid. you drag your nails through his hair, pushing the sweat slicked curls off of his forehead, and then your hand thuds lazily against the pillow.

“i’m done pretending.” he mumbles. “i’m yours.”

the last few years of your life flash before your eyes. you think back to his buzz cut and every time you’d failed to rebound. you think of bleached hair and lies about love and how he always saw the best in you. you think of nothing but him, you, together. he’s carved into you now, you think he always has been.

you fall asleep happy. you’ll wake up by his side and then you’ll do it the morning after, and the one after that too.

youruser just posted on instagram

liked by landonorris, mclaren, francisca.gomez, lilymhe and 735,641 others

youruser: our secret moments

landonorris: “only bought this dress so you could take it off” 🕺🏻✨💘

youruser: @ landonorris omg shut up (omw over)

user1: FINALLY

user4: bisexual panic is a real thing.

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maintenance: i’ve removed any tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed!

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itsjustaninchident · 4 months

Text

Tolerate It

Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader

summary: Y/N cries almost about everything but don't worry Charles is there, ready to wipe her tears away.

warning/s: angst???? and fluff

author's note: idk if i gave this justice, this is like a spur of the moment thing.

Y/N is definitely an empath, she sees stray cats and dogs on the street? she'll pet and cry for them, if only she could take all of them home. Old people alone? Bawl her eyes out. Kids that ask for money on the streets? Think how life must've treated them.

But at least she has a boyfriend to run to when it gets too hard for her, to breathe while she cries her heart out. Arms ready for her to run to and his shirt ready to get soaked by her salty tears. Must've been the reason she's made it to (your age), she has a comforting boyfriend who never found it weird she cries at all the most mundane things.

She's watching a sad movie? Don't worry Charles is there to give her tissues and feed her ice cream. "You've watched this a hundred times but never fail to cry as hard as the last time you've watched it. Nonetheless, you're adorable so you get a pass." And that would put a smile on her while Charles dry her tears and kiss her softly on her nose.

She listens to songs and suddenly a cute/angsty/happy lyric comes on? He'll rub her back and hug her through it. "It's okay, Love. Taylor Swift was probably chilling while she writes 'I know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it.'" Charles tries to convince her while she cries harder upon hearing the lyrics, "Okay, I am sorry. I probably shouldn't sing anymore." Which cut her crying session with a meek laugh bubbling her throat. "There's your pretty smile." He utters with full adoration. He probably still finds her gorgeous even when she's breaking down, Charles will find her pretty as much.

She stumbles upon a sad and tragic couple's story on tiktok whom she's never met in real life? Charles is right there to assure her it won't happen to them. "It was probably orchestrated, you know. Besides, we're like the perfect pair and I couldn't ask for more." He assures her rubbing circles on her back as she lay down on his chest, content to hear how his heart beats for her.

And that's what makes them a perfect couple, he was always there in her 'ugly crying' days, always ready to wipe her tears, always ready to give her comforting words "It's okay, mon cheri. I am here. I'll always love you." He says in the softest voice and all her tears will dry and a smile will shine on her face again. And just like that all her worries will fade, all the sad things she's thought of are fading into the background as if she never thought of it at all. She was able to get through the bad and sad days with him by her side, ready to wipe the tears and put a smile on her face.

She was so used to him being there for her that when he’s no longer present, she feels a hole in her heart. There's no one to wipe the tears away rather the one she's crying for, no one making her laugh to ease the pain instead he's the reason for the pain, no one to run to when she's sad because the slightest thought of him makes her miserable already, how will she recover now when the person who takes away her sadness is now the reason why she's sad?

please I would love to hear a feedback about this one, it's like a first for me to write something so angsty????? I hate angst so I am sorry if I made u believe it will all be alright all along..... Anyway please do some request because request box is open!!! hehe happy holidays

#fluff #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #angst #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc angst

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burntheedges · 26 days

Text

Worth It For Once

Frankie Morales x f!reader | 18+ | ao3 chapter word count: 9.6k Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge, song: Slut!

summary: After months of the whispers, rude comments and snide glances from people around town, you’re fed up. You’re trying not to let them get to you, but it’s getting harder to shake it off. And then you meet Frankie Morales.

a/n: this is part of @beskarandblasters' Taylor Swift Drabble (lol) Challenge! My song is "Slut!" from 1989. Sorry, Kel, this isn’t exactly a drabble. Spanish translations provided in parentheses. Thank you as always @katareyoudrilling aka the best beta 🧡

tags/warnings: flirting, banter, food and drink mention, reader has no description other than having a vagina and brief mention of breasts, able-bodied reader, reader’s ex spread mean rumors about her, small town gossip, bartender!reader, derogatory language used in a derogatory way (slut, other things) (not by Frankie), Frankie speaks Spanish and reader understands, pet names (hermosa, baby, querida, bebita), smut: kissing, groping, hickies, oral (f!receiving), p-in-v sex (protected), fingering (f!receiving), cuddling, oral against a wall

...

You could hear them talking about you.

You’d heard your name, which gave it away, but also the words “Chris”, “easy,” and “slut” and, well. You knew.

It’s not like they tried to hide it, really. But you always knew when they were talking about you. If the glances and overheard words didn’t give it away, the laughing whenever you walked by did.

You sighed as you gathered the glasses from the newly empty table by the low stage at the back of the room. “Just ignore them,” Laura had whispered to you earlier. “They’re not worth it.”

As always, it didn't really help.

You carried the dirty dishes back behind the bar and ignored the sudden, ostentatious hush from the corner booth full of guys that you had to pass to get there. They could at least try to be less obvious about it. You locked eyes briefly with Laura, the other bartender on duty that night and your best friend, and she frowned sympathetically. You shook your head in response. You both knew there was nothing you could do about it.

Once you were done dropping off your load in the kitchen, you allowed yourself one brief moment of leaning against the wall of the dark hallway that led back to the bar. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

“Fuck them,” you whispered to yourself. “And fuck him.” You shook your head and heaved yourself back up, heading back to work.

…

“You’d think they’d get tired of it,” Laura remarked, pushing her way back behind the bar with the signed tab from the corner booth. After a couple more hours of irritation they had finally left.

“Not so far,” you sighed. “And it’s not just them. They’re just the worst ones.” Chris’ friends hadn’t let up in the 6 months since you’d been broken up and didn’t show any signs of losing interest in making your life miserable.

Laura furrowed her brow and made a disgusted noise. “They’re such assholes. At least he knows better than to come here.”

You nodded. It was the one silver lining around the whole situation – Chris would never set foot in this bar again, if he knew what was good for him. “Bill would kick him out and he knows it.” Bill was your boss and the owner and he had hated Chris even before you’d started dating.

Laura laughed, darkly. “He may be able to lie to most of the town, but Bill would never believe him.” She sighed as she started cleaning up behind the bar. “I don’t know why they all believe him anyway.”

You shrugged. You’d had a lot of time to think about this question, and you were pretty sure you knew the answer. It was simple, in the end. “He’s from here. I’m not.”

With a huff, Laura rolled her eyes. “That’s so stupid. You’re from here, too. You were six when your parents moved to town.”

You smiled a little. She was a good friend, but she was wrong about this. “That’s not enough for them, and you know it.” Them being all the old money families in town, the ones who hadn’t thought you were good enough for Chris in the first place. The ones who heard about your break up and clucked like satisfied old hens, finally proven right. The ones who gossiped about you over brunch and at the golf course every weekend. She was never right for him anyway. He can do better. You knew that’s what they thought – some of them had said it to your face.

But at least your bar wasn’t really their scene.

“God I hate this town,” Laura muttered, violently shoving the dishwasher closed. “How’d we get stuck here, anyway.”

You laughed and nudged her with your elbow. “It’s not so bad. Just have to ignore them.”

She eyed you. “Is that working for you? Ignoring them?”

You bit your lip and turned, trying to hide your face from her scrutiny. “Most days, sure.” You felt her arms come around you from behind and smiled at the hug.

“My offer to punch him still stands.”

Your smile turned into a grin. She’d offered the day of the break up and reminded you often ever since.

“Thank you, but I’ll pass.”

Laura grumbled as you both got busy cleaning up behind the bar and turned to talking about your plans for your upcoming day off. One more day of work and you had almost a whole free weekend, for once. You tried to shrug off your tension from a night of dodging the looks of the many people in this town who’d decided you were worth about as much as a bit of dirt on the bottom of their shoes. It sort of worked.

…

The next day was your last day of work before your day off, but you didn’t work until the evening. You celebrated by sleeping until almost noon.

Once you were awake and showered and feeling generally more alive, you decided to head to the coffee shop downtown for a late breakfast. You ignored the possibility that you might run into one of Chris’ friends there – you’d decided months ago not to let them keep you from doing what you wanted.

You were pleased to see that it wasn’t too busy when you arrived and your favorite table by the window was open and waiting for you. You ordered quickly and snagged it, settling in with your current book.

You glanced up as the door opened with a light jingle a few minutes later and did a double take.

It was him.

Not your ex, thank God, but him – the man who’d been slowly taking over your thoughts and daydreams for the last month or so.

Frankie Morales, recent arrival in town and newbie-turning-regular at the bar you worked at. He’d been flirting with you since the moment you met, and you were living in fear of the day he would hear the rumors and stop.

As he stepped into the shop he removed his hat and ran his hand through his curly hair, which caused it to fluff up and fall cutely around his face. He replaced the hat quickly, though, and glanced around the shop. You started to look away, afraid to be caught, but he met your eyes and grinned.

Changing course, he turned from the path to the counter to walk towards your spot at the window.

“Fancy meeting you here,” his brown eyes twinkled at you as he came to stand next to you. “You busy? Can I join you?” He nodded hopefully towards the empty chair across from you, and you started to smile.

“Sure, Frankie,” you felt hesitant but you didn’t want him to leave. You started to rearrange your belongings to give him some space.

“I’ll order and be right back.” He gestured back over his shoulder at the counter.

You nodded and smiled and tried not to stare as he turned and walked away from you.

There was a short line at the register. You tried to keep from watching him wait there but only succeeded in limiting it to quick glances at him out of the corner of your eye. You couldn’t help but trace your eyes over the way he looked in his jeans and denim shirt. He was so broad. You shook your head, trying to clear it.

Frankie was next in line when the door jingled again, and to your dismay two of the guys who’d just spent the entire previous night laughing at you at the bar walked in. You ducked your head, hoping they wouldn’t notice you. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched in growing horror as they came to stand behind Frankie. You clenched your hands in your lap and tried to breathe.

One of them clearly spotted you and a smirk came across his face that sent your stomach plummeting to your feet. He elbowed his friend and you couldn’t hear what he said, but Frankie clearly could.

His back stiffened and his hands clenched into fists. You desperately wanted to know what they were saying and you really didn’t want Frankie to hear it. You were frozen, wondering if this was it, if this was the end of whatever had been building between you since you met. Wondering if it was over before it even began.

Frankie ordered and you could see the tension in his frame as he tried to ignore the two men behind him when they started to laugh. You couldn't take it anymore and closed your eyes, hiding behind your hands.

Just a moment later you heard footsteps returning to your table.

“Hey,” his voice was low and soothing and you couldn’t help but look up at him. He was still tense, but his face was gentle as he looked at you. “Do you want to get out of here?”

You swallowed, mouth dry. You couldn’t tell if he was offering to go somewhere together, but you shook your head regardless.

“I try not to let them make choices for me about where I go or what I do.” You twisted your fingers together, wondering if that was too direct, too much of an admission. Did he know?

Frankie nodded, a thoughtful frown on his face as he sat across from you. His eyes darted behind you to your right and his frown deepened. You resisted the urge to turn and look.

“Is it always like that?” As he asked, he slid his right hand across the table to touch the back of yours lightly with his fingertips. You shivered.

“Not with everyone.” He slid his hand over yours and squeezed gently. You continued, “but with some people in town, yeah. What–” you cleared your throat. “What did they say?” You needed to know what they’d said in his hearing, but at the same time, you never wanted to know. You’d heard enough.

Frankie shook his head, scowling. “I’m not gonna repeat it.”

You winced.

“Hey,” he squeezed your hand again, leaning towards you. “I’m not listening to them, alright? I promise. I haven’t, and I won’t.”

You blinked, taking that in. He hasn’t? Past tense? “You mean, you’ve heard something– I mean, something else? They said something? Before now?”

Frankie ran his thumb gently over the back of your hand, searching between your eyes for something. “Yes. But I haven’t paid them any attention. I promise, ok?”

You took a deep breath and tried to push back the pricks of emotion you felt building behind your eyes. “I’m sorry, Frankie, I don’t know what you heard but I can imagine, but it’s not–”

“Shh,” he hushed you gently and scooted his chair around the small round table towards you so he could take both of your hands in his. “Hey, no. I promise, I’m not listening to them. I know what small towns are like, hermosa. I know what small people are like. I’d rather hear about you from you. I–” he smiled, a bit sheepishly. “I’ve been trying to get up the nerve to ask you out for weeks.”

You grasped at his hands, clutching where he was already holding them. “You have?”

“Yeah, I have. Just wasn’t sure you’d be interested.” You scoffed and he smiled. He said your name quietly and leaned forward. “D’you want to go out with me?”

You bit your lip. “Are you sure? You know they won’t– they’ll talk. I don’t want them to start with you, too.”

Frankie frowned and looked down. When he met your eyes again his gaze was fierce. It pinned you in place.

“They’ll talk anyway, and I don’t give a fuck what they think.” He squeezed your hands. “I only care what you think. Can I take you out, hermosa?”

You nodded and started to smile.

He smiled back. “When are you free?”

“Well, tomorrow’s my day off,” you started. He grinned when you continued, “how’s tomorrow night?”

He nodded, looking excited. “Baby, I’d love that. Mind if I drop by your work later today, too?”

Baby. You shivered and nodded and as he started to plan your date, you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face.

…

You headed into work that night with the smile still on your face. Frankie had promised to come by the bar that night, so you’d be seeing him soon. That thought combined with your excitement for the date had you floating through the doors of Bill’s bar.

Laura took one look at you and demanded details, which you happily provided as you got ready in the back together.

Laura knew him too, since Frankie and his friend Santiago had first visited the bar almost two months before, when Frankie had first moved to town. His best friend had helped him move and stayed in town for a few days while he got settled, you’d learned that night. Among other things. (Like how pretty Frankie’s eyes were when he smiled at you, and how he hadn’t stopped smiling at you the whole night. How he’d been looking at you like that ever since.)

You knew you’d been standoffish in the beginning. You’d wondered if he’d figured it out, if he’d heard the things they said about you and seen the way they looked at you in town. And now you knew he had, but as you thought back over the time you’d known him, you realized you couldn’t figure out when that might have been. He’d never treated you differently, never stopped flirting with you. Never hesitated, never looked at you with anything but delight and wonder in his eyes.

“So, a date with Frankie, huh,” she nudged you with her elbow as you walked back towards the front together, ready to start your shift.

You nodded. “He’s coming by tonight.” You felt the smile tugging at the edge of your lips where it had made its home since you saw him at the coffee shop. “Not sure when, though.”

She went through the door first, and you heard her laugh. “Now.”

“What?” you asked as you came through. You turned to see what she was looking at.

“Now. He’s already here.” Laura kept laughing as she headed to the other end of the bar and you grinned as you locked eyes with the man waiting for you at the bar. He smiled back and watched you approach.

“Frankie, didn’t you just get done with work like half an hour ago?”

He shrugged. “Wanted to see you, hermosa. Just went home to change and figured, why wait?”

You laughed. “You know I won’t be able to talk to you much, right?” You wanted to stay and chat but you knew work would pull you away, repeatedly.

“I know.” He nodded. “I’ll be here when you’re free.”

The idea of Frankie wanting to see you so badly he’d sit here alone made something twist in your chest. “Ok, Frankie.”

It wasn’t busy yet, so you stayed to chat until some of the regulars started to arrive. Somehow, even with the interruptions of you needing to actually do your job, you felt connected with him like you were on two ends of a string. You’d pour a drink and glance up, and find him already looking at you. Or think about him and look over to find him smiling down at his drink, looking like maybe he was thinking about the same thing.

Laura teased you mercilessly about the smile on your face that you couldn’t seem to get rid of.

Your good mood lasted through the first couple of hours of your shift, but right after the dinner rush you turned towards the taps to find Laura in front of you, scowling.

“What is it?” She shadowed you as you started to pour a couple of pints for the guys at the other end of the bar.

“They’re here,” she whispered, gesturing with her head towards the back corner.

Your shoulders climbed up around your ears at the news. “Of course they are. Which ones?”

She crossed her arms and huffed. “Jared and his buddies.” Jared was Chris’ best friend, and usually the ringleader whenever he wasn’t around.

“Great,” you muttered.

She helped you carry the drinks back. “Hey, you know I’ve got their table. Don’t worry about it.” You nodded and bumped her hip with yours in thanks.

Laura headed over to meet them and you tried to put them out of your mind. They were all the way across the bar from where Frankie was sitting, and you moved back towards him.

He was studying you as you walked up and you knew he’d probably seen them come in. “Is that more of them?” he asked, voice low. You nodded. He sighed. “I’m glad Laura’s got your back.”

“Yeah,” you agreed as you refilled his water. “I usually don’t have to talk to them at all.”

Frankie tilted his head, thoughtful. “Do they come in here just to bother you?”

You sighed and leaned towards him, crossing your arms. “I think so. They never came here before.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Before?” He repeated, obviously curious.

“Before I broke up with their friend. He’s not here, Bill won’t allow it.”

“Good,” Frankie murmured, brow furrowed. “But they keep coming back?”

“At least a few times a week,” you confirmed.

He glanced across the bar at them, frowning. “What do they do?”

You shook your head and reached out to turn his head back to face you. He smiled and tilted his jaw so that his cheek rested against your palm. “Mostly just stare and talk about me. I can’t hear them, usually, but they make it obvious.”

You could tell he wanted to ask why. Why they bothered you, why they did all this. The surprising thing was how much you wanted to tell him.

“I’ll tell you about it later, ok? Not here.” You brushed your thumb over his cheek and his smile grew.

He nodded. “Ok, baby. But you don’t have to tell me anything, it’s like I told you. I want to learn about you from you. There’s no rush.”

You smiled, warmed by his words, and headed back to work.

…

A few hours later, the crowd was winding down and Laura waved you off when you offered to stay and close with her.

“We don’t need you,” she said, gesturing down the bar towards Sean, whose shift had started later than yours. “Go take your man home.” You laughed, and glanced back at Frankie, but he wasn’t looking at you.

He was frowning and looking off to his right because Jared was walking straight towards him.

You squeezed Laura’s arm and she turned to look. “Shit,” she muttered. “Maybe he’s just going to the bathroom.”

You both winced as Jared stopped right beside Frankie’s chair. You started to move towards them, but Jared was already speaking.

“... you shouldn’t bother with her, man, she’s a real piece of work.” Jared’s snooty tone grated on your nerves. It’d been a while since you had to listen to it.

“Excuse me?” Frankie’s voice was low and you could hear the anger in it. He looked absolutely furious, mouth drawn into a straight line, brows furrowed. His hands were clenched on the bar in front of him.

“Hey, ready to go?” You spoke only to Frankie, ignoring Jared, who huffed. “I’m off for the night.” Frankie nodded, visibly taking a deep breath and releasing his fists.

Jared sneered and you caught it out of the corner of your eye. “You know, even for one night she’s not worth the–”

You cut him off before he could say whatever vile thing he was thinking. “Get lost, Jared.”

He huffed again and turned from you to Frankie. “Look, man, I get she’s probably fine in bed, given where she’s been, but I promise you, you don’t want to touch this one with a 10-foot pole.”

Frankie looked like he was thinking about putting Jared on the ground and you decided enough was enough.

“C’mon, Frankie,” you slipped out from behind the bar and tugged him towards the back with you. “Let me grab my stuff and we can go.”

“Hijo de puta,” (son of a whore) Frankie muttered. He made a low sound almost like a growl and you startled. He looked immediately apologetic. “Sorry, baby,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your hairline. It was the first time he’d done anything like that, and you almost froze in place at how nice his lips felt on your skin. “Let’s go.”

Jared scoffed behind you, but you were already turning away. “Fine, man. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you about the town slut when you regret this later.”

You heard Sean start to threaten to throw Jared out so you grabbed Frankie’s arm and dragged him back to the staff area. He immediately gathered you in his arms as soon as you let the break room door fall shut behind you.

“Mierda,” (shit) he breathed, burying his face in your neck. “That’s the type of shit you’re dealing with? I am so sorry baby.” He pulled you in tighter, and you relaxed into his hold. “I promise I can keep it together. Just took me by surprise, how bad it was.”

“Thank you,” you whispered. “I’ll tell you about it. But let’s get out of here first.”

“Hey,” he started, pulling back. “You don’t have to–”

“No, I know,” you interrupted, gathering your stuff. “I want to.”

He nodded and slid his hand into yours as you turned to leave. “Wanna go out the back?” He squeezed your hand gently as he asked.

You sighed and nodded. “Might as well.”

The two of you slipped out the back of the kitchen and turned to walk around the building to your cars. “Follow me home?” You asked nudging him.

Frankie smiled. “You sure?”

“Yes.” You leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. “C’mon.”

Soon enough the two of you were pulling into your complex and walking up to your door. You felt his hand come to rest on the small of your back as you dug for your keys and you leaned back into it for a moment. The way he’d started touching you more today since you agreed to a date was sending your mind spinning. You hoped he’d still want to, after your talk.

“Come in, Frankie.” You invited him in and he followed your lead in removing his shoes before you both dropped onto the couch.

“Wait, sorry, do you want something to drink?” You started to stand again but he stopped you.

“No, I’m fine. Just had plenty of water from a very attentive bartender.” He winked, and you laughed. “C’mere.” He tugged on your hand and you slid closer until you were settled on the cushion next to him, slightly turned towards him. You let yourself relax, leaning sideways against the back of your couch. He looked so warm and broad and comfortable in your home – you wished you felt up to leaning on him instead. But you needed a little bit of space for this.

You sat for a minute, trying to figure out where to start. As if he could sense your hesitation, he reached out and took your hand in his again, and you sighed. “Ok, well. I guess I should explain.”

“Whatever you want to tell me, I’ll listen.” He started to rub the back of your hand with his thumb and you smiled.

“Ok. Here we go.” You drew in a deep breath and tried to let his presence ground you. You stared down at your joined hands as you spoke. “I was dating Chris for almost a year. It went ok, I guess, for a while. But it turns out he’s a massive asshole.” Frankie squeezed your hand. “Yeah, I should have known better. I’ve known him all my life. But he was never mean like some of them.”

“Them?” Frankie asked. You could feel that he was looking at your face, but you couldn’t look away from the way his thumb was caressing your hand.

“The rich kids. The ones whose families have been here since forever, the ones with land and big houses and so on. They were always mean to anyone who wasn’t like them. And I was never like them.” With your free hand you started to idly pick at a stubborn thread that was sticking out of your couch cushion. It refused to budge and you bit your lip.

You sighed. “But he wasn’t mean, back in school. So when he asked me out I gave him a chance. We’d all been away to college and come back. I figured he’d probably grown up some. And it seemed like he had, for a while.” You shrugged. The thread started to wiggle a little and you tugged at it harder. “But he’s not different. He used to bring me to family stuff, and his parents always treated me like shit and he swore he didn’t notice. Then at the end I found out he’d been cheating on me for months, almost the whole relationship. And when I confronted him he caused a scene and flipped it around on me.”

Frankie stiffened and you closed your eyes. “Like a hundred people heard him yell that I’d been cheating on him with his friends, that they all told him it was true. I couldn’t believe it at the time — it was a side of him I’d never seen before.” You laughed to yourself, darkly. “He’s a great actor. And then on my way out of the house his mom accused me of stealing some jewelry — the earrings I was wearing. Which he had given me a gift.” You opened your eyes, finally, and saw that you’d tugged so hard the thread was pulling away from the fabric of the couch, but it looked like it might create a run in the fabric. You knew you should stop tugging on it, but you couldn’t. “But it was enough. Now the rich people in town who all go to the same country club treat me like shit and whisper behind my back. Chris started dating some new girl a few months ago but she’s rich, too.”

Suddenly Frankie’s free hand smoothed over yours, and he gently pulled yours away from where you’d been about to create a hole in the fabric of your couch cushion. He tugged both of your hands into his lap. “What’s up with the guys who come to the bar, then?”

You groaned and finally looked up to meet his eyes. “I have no idea. I can’t figure out if they know he was lying and just decided to protect him, or if they believe him and decided to make my life miserable. Maybe they just hate me for some reason. Whatever it is, I just try to ignore it.”

Frankie frowned, gently, and squeezed both of your hands. “You deserve better.”

You smiled at him. “Thank you. I know.”

He nodded and finally smiled. “Good.” He looked at you for a moment, studying your face. “Thank you for telling me.”

You nodded, not sure what to say. But Frankie continued, “I promise not to lose it on those guys.”

“They’d deserve it,” you laughed as you agreed. “But they’re not worth the trouble.”

Frankie looked thoughtful as he lifted both of your hands to press soft kisses along your knuckles. “Well, hermosa, I’m glad you agreed to go out with me.”

You perked up and tried not to look anxious. “You still want to go out? Are you sure?”

He shot you a look and you laughed a little. “Of course I do, baby.” He leaned a little bit closer and continued, voice low. “I mean it, you deserve better. And I want to give it to you, if you’ll let me. I want to give you everything.”

Your breath caught in your throat. All you could do was nod. He grinned. “Good.”

…

The next night, you were anxious.

Frankie said he’d pick you up at 6pm, so at 5:55pm you were standing nervously behind the front door of your apartment, getting a text pep talk from Laura.

He seems like a good guy. But if he says or does anything weird just text me. I’ll come get you.

You smiled. This was your first date, the first time you’d really dressed up, in six months, and you were nervous. But Laura was right – Frankie seemed like a good guy. You rocked back on your heels as you waited by your door. Maybe this would work out, after all.

Just then, someone knocked, and your smile grew as you flung the door open.

Frankie looked nervous on the other side of it and your breath caught in your throat as you took him in. He had on dark jeans, a button up shirt, and his hair was styled without a hat.

“Frankie, you look–”

“Hermosa, te–”

You both laughed when you talked over each other. Frankie stepped forward to tangle your fingers together.

“This is gorgeous on you, baby.” With his free hand he ran his fingertips down your side and you shivered.

“You’re looking pretty handsome yourself, Frankie.” He blushed in such an adorable way that you wanted to kiss him before you even got out of your apartment. You cleared your throat. “Shall we?”

Frankie nodded and stepped backwards to lead you out of your apartment. He kept his fingers laced with yours as you locked the door and made your way to his car.

“So where are we going?” You asked once you were settled in the passenger seat. Frankie had wanted it to be a surprise, and you wondered what he picked.

“Well, hermosa, I thought you might enjoy getting out of town for a bit.” You looked at him, surprised. He shrugged. “I heard at work that there’s a restaurant in the next town over that’s pretty amazing, thought we could try it. Got a reservation and everything.”

You smiled and reached out to take his hand again. “Sounds perfect, Frankie.”

On the way to the restaurant he updated you on his coworkers’ shenanigans – he usually visited the bar at least weekly and gave you the update then, and you felt a little thrill at the idea that you and Frankie were spending time together outside of where you worked. He wanted to spend time with you. He knew, and it still felt as easy and warm as it ever did with him. You sank into it with a smile.

“I’m really glad you asked me out, Frankie,” you told him in a lull in the conversation. You watched as he blushed again and grinned.

“Me too, baby.” He tugged your hand up to press a kiss to your knuckles, the same way he had the night before. You bit your lip. His lips were so soft and you wondered what they might feel like somewhere else. It sent your head spinning and you took a deep breath. You knew this was only the beginning of the night.

When you arrived, Frankie met you by the passenger door of his truck. He slid his hand around your waist until it came to rest on the small of your back, walking next to you into the restaurant.

“Two for Morales,” he told the host, stepping away from you briefly. You took the opportunity to study the restaurant, since you’d never been. It was all deep, rich tones of green and brown, with dark wood floors and low lighting that flickered like candlelight. The tables were far enough apart to feel cozy and romantic and you smiled a little bit to yourself as you thought about Frankie seeking out a place like this for your date.

The host gestured for you to follow and you started to weave through the restaurant towards a small round booth in the back corner. As you did, though, you heard a voice you recognized.

“What the devil is she doing here?” She wasn’t shouting, but then, she never had to to be heard.

You tried to glance discreetly to your right and felt the blood drain out of your face. Chris’ new girlfriend and a bunch of their friends were seated at a long table near the front windows. You didn’t see Chris himself, thank God, but this wasn’t much better.

Your foot came down funny on your next step. You felt yourself start to stumble and it kicked off a spiral of anxiety inside of you – you were going to hit the ground in the middle of this fancy restaurant, and they would see it, and –

But you barely wobbled before Frankie’s arm slipped around your waist again and supported you, keeping you upright. Somehow you both continued forward as if nothing had happened.

You could hear them whispering behind you as you moved farther into the restaurant and you struggled to take a deep breath. Frankie tightened his arm around you and leaned in. You could feel his lips brush against your ear as he whispered, “fuck ‘em. They don’t deserve even a glance from you, querida.”

He guided you into your both and slid in next to you, and you realized you couldn’t see them from here. Frankie could, but he was only looking at you. You looked back and you felt the tension in your shoulders start to slip away.

You knew what they thought. You knew what they were probably saying, what Chris had told them about you after you broke up. But somehow, for once, it really didn’t matter. They might have been looking at you, but suddenly you couldn’t feel their stares. You had Frankie’s eyes on you, only for you, and that was worth more than anything else. Your spine straightened and you leaned forward to tangle your fingers with his on the table.

“You’re right, Frankie.” You smiled. “There’s only one person I want to look at in here, anyway.”

He grinned and ducked his head. “I know you’ve caught me looking at you at the bar, hermosa.”

You bit your lip. “Maybe. But only ‘cause I was looking back.”

Frankie laughed and lifted your hands to press another kiss to the back of yours. “Well, good. Having your eyes on me is all I’ve wanted.”

You felt your own cheeks heat as his words. You’d been suffering under the unwavering attention of half the town for months, slowly shrinking into yourself even as you tried not to let them get to you. But somehow the attention of this man was doing the exact opposite. You felt like you were glowing under his gaze, like you were emerging out of a long darkness into the sunlight at last.

The rest of dinner felt the same. You lost yourself in the low lights, the warm room, the soft touches, the rumbling sound of Frankie’s voice as he flirted and laughed and whispered in your ear. You felt like you were in your own world with him in the booth as the sounds of the restaurant swirled around you but never quite reached you. The flicker of the soft light across his face captured your eyes and he smiled whenever he caught you looking at his mouth.

By the time you fought briefly over the check (Frankie won, but only because you secured a promise that you would pay for the next one) you felt like you were floating. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so wanted. You wanted to sink into Frankie and never come out.

He stood first and offered his hand as you stood from the table. You smiled up at him and took it. As he slipped his hand around your waist again you finally glanced back towards the front of the restaurant. You realized you’d completely forgotten they were there, but you remembered suddenly when you saw them again. They hadn’t left.

But you felt different than you had before. Frankie’s arm pulled you in and he started to walk towards the door. You looked at him and smiled, and felt yourself sink back into the connection the two of you had started to build over dinner.

They might as well look, you thought as you walked past their table. You looked at Frankie again. I’d look at us, too.

You floated out the door and through the parking lot towards his car. You reached for the door handle but he stopped you, turning you around and crowding you back against the passenger door.

Frankie’s eyes were dark and intent and you felt a shiver climb up your spine.

“Can I kiss you, hermosa?” He whispered into the air between you and you could have sworn you saw his words in the reflections of the lights and the stars above your head.

“Yes, Frankie,” you breathed. “Please–”

He leaned in and finally pressed his lips to yours, and you heard yourself moan into the kiss. His lips were soft as they pressed against yours, sending every thought and worry flying out of your head. You opened for him and he took the invitation, running his tongue lightly over your bottom lip. You gasped as he deepened the kiss.

After a few moments he broke away to press a line of kisses down your jaw and neck until his face was buried in your shoulder. “Fuck, hermosa,” he was breathing hard and you realized suddenly that you were, too. “You feel so good in my arms.” He kissed you again, on the spot where your neck sloped into your shoulder, and you shivered. “You looked so hot walking past those assholes without so much as sparing them a glance, you know that?”

You grinned up at the sky and tightened your hold around his neck. “I was just looking at you, Frankie.” You weren’t nervous anymore. You knew what you wanted. “Come home with me?”

He whipped his head up to stare at you. “Are you sure? I don’t– we don’t have to rush anything, baby.”

You nodded, warmed by his concern. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” You watched the grin take over his face, slow and sinful.

“Me too, baby. I’d like nothing more than to go home with you,” he agreed, before kissing you again.

“Then take me home, Frankie,” you mumbled against his mouth. He groaned and pulled away to do just that.

Your ride home was full of the best kind of tension. Frankie’s hand came to rest on your thigh and you resisted the urge to scoot it higher up your leg, holding it there under yours. You could feel the tension in his muscles as he held himself still.

By the time you reached your apartment you could have sworn you were both vibrating with the need to touch.

As you unlocked your apartment door, Frankie stepped up behind you, just like he had the night before. This time he closed the distance and crowded up against your back, snaking his arms around your waist. You leaned back into him, distracted, until he lifted one hand to guide yours with the key towards the door.

You felt him huff a laugh against your neck. “Let’s get inside, querida. We’ve got things to do.”

You laughed, charmed, as you finally opened your door. “Is that so?” You turned to look at him and his expression made something in your chest clench.

“It is,” he agreed, stepping towards you and closing the door behind him. He turned the lock and stepped forward again to pull you into his arms. “Hi, baby,” he whispered against your mouth, and you smiled as he kissed you.

Frankie backed you into the wall by your door and you let your keys drop from your hands as you raised them to bury your fingers in his hair. His hands framed your face, flat on the wall on either side of your head as he leaned in. The kiss suddenly went from soft to searing as his body pressed yours into the wall. You could feel him everywhere, surrounding you, all down your front. You became suddenly aware of the hard length of his cock pressing against your hip and you gasped.

He kissed you again but then moved away to scrape his teeth lightly down your neck. He started worrying a mark on your neck under your ear, and you sighed.

“Frankie,” you breathed, tugging at his hair to bring his mouth back to yours.

“Hmm?” He hummed into your mouth.

You reached back and tugged at one of his arms. “Touch me, Frankie.”

He was so close to you you could feel him shudder in response. “Is that what you want, bebita?” You nodded and felt him smile against your cheek. He moved his right hand from the wall to your side, squeezing your hip. “Where do you want me to touch you? Here?” He teased his fingertips down your hip. You shook your head.

“No? Here, then?” He leaned his weight on his left hand, using his right to trace idle designs up your torso until his fingertips came to rest just under your breast. Your breath hitched.

“Hmm, no, I don’t think so. I think you want something else.” Frankie slipped his hand back down your chest until his fingertips brushed over your core through your clothes. He turned his hand and cupped you gently. With his lips pressed to your ear, he whispered, “here?”

You gasped and nodded. “Yes, Frankie, yes—”

“Shhh,” he pressed kisses to your cheek and the corner of your lips. He gripped you firmly with his hand and you squirmed. “I told you, baby. I want to give you everything.”

You closed your eyes against the feelings he was drawing out of you, overwhelmed at his words.

He kissed you again, quickly, but pressed his forehead to yours right after, meeting your eyes.

“Can I put my mouth on you, bebita?” His voice was deep and warm and it melted down your spine.

Your hands flew up to grasp at his shirt. “Frankie, you–”

“I love it,” he murmured, looking right into your eyes. “I’ve been thinking about it. Will you let me?”

You started to smile. “Let you? Frankie, please.”

He grinned and started tugging at your clothes gently. “C’mon, bebita. Quiero verte.” (I want to see you)

You soon found yourself leaning back against the wall of your hallway, completely bare from the waist down. Frankie dropped to his knees before you, mouth open, eyes wide.

“Fuck,” he whispered, crawling forward. “You are so fucking beautiful.” You felt the heat rise in your cheeks at his words and resisted the urge to wrap your arms around yourself.

Frankie settled between your knees and smiled up at you. He winked. “Open up, bebita.” He lifted your left leg over his shoulder and you steadied yourself against the wall. “I won’t let you fall.” Frankie moved closer until he was framing you in place with his shoulders. He sucked in a sharp breath. You bit your lip.

“Qué cosita más linda,” (what a pretty little thing) he murmured, leaning forwards. He placed his left forearm over your hips like a bar and pressed a gentle kiss right above your clit. You sighed and slid your hands into his hair.

“That’s right, bebita.” His lips moved against you when he spoke and you shivered. “Relax. Let me take care of you.”

You felt his fingers brush along your slit and then press you open. HIs tongue followed right behind as he teased you, licking from your entrance to your clit. You felt boneless, suddenly worried your leg wouldn’t hold you up. But he was pressing you firmly into the wall with his shoulders and his arm. You could see his muscles working in his shoulders and back and it made your head swim.

He flattened his tongue and licked again and you squirmed. He teased the tip of his tongue around your clit and your hips thrust forward before you could stop them.

“Hey,” Frankie said your name and you blinked and looked down at him. You could see his eyes and the bridge of his nose and you felt your heart rate pick up at the sight of him between your knees like this. “That’s good, baby. Ride my face.”

“Frankie–” you started, breathless.

He moved his arm higher so that your hips could move more easily and leaned forward to slip his tongue through your folds again. You thrust your hips forward and he made an encouraging noise.

You closed your eyes and let your head fall back against the wall. Frankie teased around your entrance with his fingertips as his tongue worked a slow rhythm on your clit, and on your next thrust forward his finger slipped inside. You gasped and you felt him smile against you. You clutched at his hair, suddenly much overwhelmed.

“Yes, Frankie–” you moaned, and he pressed a second finger inside, twisting both in a way that made you chase them with your hips when he pulled them back. His tongue was moving mercilessly over your clit and you felt it, starting to build at the base of your spine. With every thrust of your hips and curl of his fingers and slide of his tongue he was working you closer and closer, relentlessly driving you upwards towards your peak. You couldn’t catch your breath, you could only do as he asked and clutch at his hair as you ground your hips forward to ride his face.

You chased the feeling climbing up your spine and he urged you on with his fingers and his mouth. On your next thrust, Frankie closed his lips around your clit and sucked, gently, as his fingers thrust forward again, and you were there.

You cried out as you curled over him, pressing his head into you with your grip in his hair, holding him there as you fell over the edge. His left arm curled around your back and urged you forward, holding you to him as he opened his mouth wide against your pussy. You quivered around his fingers, locked together as he worked you through it with his tongue.

“Fuck,” you choked out as you felt your leg start to give. Frankie caught you by the waist, slipping your leg off of his shoulder and easing you to the floor in front of him. Your eyes met, on the same level again, and your eyebrows raised as you took him in. His face was red and wet and his lips were puffy. His expression was both delighted and wrecked. He was grinning.

“You taste so fucking good, baby.” You gasped as he leaned in and pressed his wet mouth to your neck. He left a trail of moisture behind as he kissed a path up behind your ear. “Better than I ever imagined. I could spend all night between your legs and never get tired.”

You laughed, slipping your arms around his neck as he leaned over you. “Never?” you teased, and he nodded.

“Can I do that again?” He pulled back and looked down at your pussy and your legs twitched.

Again? You shook your head. “You can do that anytime, Frankie. But right now I want your cock inside me.”

His eyes darted back to meet yours and his grin turned into a smirk. “Oh yeah?” He leaned in to kiss you and you smiled.

“Yeah, Frankie. Take me to bed.”

He stood and put out his hands to guide you to your feet. “Show me the way, querida.”

He followed closely behind you as you walked to your bedroom, spinning you around the moment you crossed the threshold. He pulled you into another kiss as he walked you carefully backwards towards your bed.

You ran your hands down his sides and realized he was still wearing all of his clothes. “Take these off, Frankie,” you murmured as you undid the button on his pants. He unbuttoned his shirt as you slid his pants down over his hips, and soon he was standing in front of you completely bare. Your eyes widened as you took him in. He was all golden skin and soft muscles – the kind where you knew he was strong without so much definition, with a soft midsection that you wanted to rest your head against like a pillow. You stepped forward and pressed your body against his and found he felt as soft and warm as he looked.

As your naked body came into contact with his, his breath caught and you felt it. “Fuck, hermosa,” he murmured as his hands slid over your back. “You feel so fucking amazing.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed kissed down the line of his collarbone. “So do you, Frankie.”

As he pulled you in, you felt his cock standing proudly against his stomach. It was hard between your bodies and you squirmed, tilting your hips forward in a vain attempt to feel it against you.

He pressed his smile to your hairline. “‘S that what you want, bebita?”

You nodded, and he walked you back two steps towards the bed without releasing you from his embrace. His cock shifted between you and you sighed.

“Lie down,” he murmured, guiding you onto the bed. You scooted back and he followed, crawling over you until he was perched above you on his hands and knees. “You look good under me, baby.”

“You look good over me, Frankie.” You smiled and reached up to tug him down for a kiss.

He lowered his body to yours slowly and you gasped as you felt his cock come to rest against your hip. You moved your hips, but he continued forward and to the side, coming to rest against you on the bed. “Not yet, bebita. Need to get you ready first.” You frowned and he smiled at you. “Don’t want to hurt you.”

He trailed his fingertips down your chest and stomach until he was teasing at your slit again.

“I’m ready, Frankie,” you insisted, reaching down to grip his cock in one hand. He was big. “You just fingered me by my front door, remember?” You raised your eyebrows at him and pumped his cock in your hand. His hips stuttered forward and you grinned.

He sighed and shook his head at you. “Let me just make sure.” He leaned down to kiss you as his fingers slipped inside you again, two this time, and you opened your legs to give him more room.

“Hmm,” he hummed as he twisted his fingers inside of you. “You were right, bebita. Ya estás mojada.” (you’re already wet) He kissed you as he slipped another finger inside and you arched your back at the sensation.

“Frankie–” you started, but he interrupted you with another kiss. You could feel how wet you were around his fingers and you wanted more.

“¿Estás lista, bebita?” (are you ready, baby?)

You nodded and reached towards your nightstand and the condoms you knew were inside the drawer. You tried not to let out the whine you could feel at the back of your throat when he pulled his fingers from you gently. He reached over you and grabbed a condom, making quick work of slipping it on.

“C’mere,” he murmured, lifting your leg until it was wrapped around his waist. He bent your other knee and extended it to the side on the bed. You realized you were completely open to him, pussy on display. “Just like that. Fuck, you look gorgeous like this.”

You felt your cheeks heat and looked down to see what he was looking at. Your pussy was open, spread wide, and glistening with your arousal. His cock was mere inches away as he held his hips above yours. You swallowed hard.

“Hey, look at me.”

You looked up at his face and found him smiling softly at you. He tilted his hips forward and you felt the head of his cock nudge against your clit. You sucked in a sharp breath.

He nodded. “That feels so fucking good, baby.” You blinked, trying not to close your eyes. You wanted to see everything.

He shifted his hips until the head of his cock notched against your entrance, and you both gasped. “Ay, mira,” (look) he demanded, and you looked down to watch as the head of his cock pressed inside of you. Your eyes fluttered closed, you couldn’t help it, and you moaned.

“That’s right.” He pressed inside and you felt every inch of his cock as you stretched around him. “You’re taking me so fucking well. You feel so amazing.” He bottomed out and groaned. “Fuck.”

You realized you’d tangled your fingers in his hair, and you tried to tug him down into a kiss. He resisted long enough to pull back out, and the glide of him inside you was devastating.

On the next thrust, he leaned down to capture your mouth with his.

He kissed you as he established a slow, overwhelming rhythm that stole your breath away. You couldn’t feel anything but Frankie, inside you and all around you. Your head spun as you tried to keep up with the movements of his hips and the slide of his mouth against yours.

After a few moments he twisted, reaching around to tuck your leg tighter around his waist. When he did his cock slid in at a new angle that was just right and you gasped.

“¿Así?” (like that?) he breathed. “Right there?”

You nodded, and held him tight against you. “Yes, Frankie,” you sighed. He thrust forward again and your next breath felt like a sob. You could feel it building inside you again, pooling at the base of your spine and tingling down your arms and legs.

“C’mon, baby,” he murmured into your ear. “Let me see you come again. So fucking beautiful when you come.” He pressed a kiss to your neck and you held his head there with your grip in his hair. He reached down to press his thumb to your clit and you gasped. “Dámelo.” (give it to me)

On his next thrust, you did. You felt your pussy tighten around him as you sobbed out his name. You felt like the bed was spinning away beneath you while you were struck, unable to do anything but arch your back and scream Frankie’s name.

He suddenly picked up the pace, and you tugged on his hair to lift his head. You wanted to see his face when he came.

It was beautiful.

His eyes locked on yours as his mouth hung open, and you watched as his orgasm took him. After only a moment he slumped forward, slightly crushing you, and started pressing kisses anywhere he could reach. You giggled at the brush of his mustache against your skin..

“Fuck, hermosa,” he murmured against your skin. “Only our first time, and it was that fucking amazing?” He shook his head and glanced up at you, eyes playful. “Don’t know how we’ll survive getting any better at this.”

You laughed and kissed the corner of his smirk. He turned his head to kiss you back, gently, and you sighed into it.

“Was it as good as you hoped?” You couldn’t help but feel nervous. It had been so long since you’d had this kind of intimacy with someone, and the last one had ended so badly. But Frankie had been carefully taking care of all of your worries and insecurities one-by-one since you’d met, and this time was no different.

“Good?!” Frankie sounded incredulous as he cupped your cheek in his hand. “Baby, it was better. Better than I could have imagined.” He kissed you again, and you squirmed when you felt his soft cock shift, still inside you.

You smiled. “Alright, Frankie, let’s get cleaned up.” He nodded and pulled carefully out of you before heading to the bathroom. He looked back over his shoulder at you and you took a moment to admire his ass and the curve of his spine. “Can I stay? I don’t want to wear out my welcome, but–”

“Of course.” You cut him off. “I want you here.” He grinned and ducked his head.

After a few moments of cleaning up, you found yourself back in bed with Frankie. He had on only his briefs, and you tugged on an old, oversized t-shirt and nothing else. Frankie crowded up behind you in the bed.

“Thank you for going out with me tonight, baby.” He murmured into your neck as he wrapped his arm around your waist, spooning you.

You smiled. “Want to go out again tomorrow?”

You felt him grin against your neck. “Yes, how about tomorrow morning for brunch and then dinner and then, oh, every day this week. As a start.”

You laughed as he tugged you closer. “Ok, Frankie.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. “I mean it, baby. This is just the start.”

As you closed your eyes, half asleep, you thought to yourself that you’d never bother paying attention to them again.

Not when you had Frankie all to yourself.

...

a/n: let me know what you think? 🧡

tag list and some Frankie fans who I think might be interested: @jeewrites @islacharlotte @iknowisoundcrazy @beardedjoel @undercoverpena @goodwithcheese

#frankie morales x reader smut #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales smut #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales x reader #triple frontier fic #frankie morales fanfiction #x reader #here we go #ts drabble challenge

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saythenametotheworld · 30 days

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Message in a Bottle [1]

Genre: strangers to lovers; fluff; slow burn Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x Reader Warnings: mature themes, sloooow burn, suggestive Notes: 19.7k words, song prompt was Message in a Bottle by Taylor Swift. Synopsis: Seungcheol likes his coffee dark and iced; you like yours creamy smooth and searing hot. Your differences, mutual interests, and love for coffee bring you close together. It was all fun and games until you fell madly in love with a Choi Seungcheol whose heart still belonged to someone else.

It was crowded when you went for your usual coffee run at the cafe across the street from your university. The rain was pouring hard and for you, the unexpected downpour was today's bad luck because you didn't have an umbrella with you. Fortunately, your jacket kept you warm and some nice schoolmate shared her umbrella with you on your way to the cafe. The ambiance is nice, like always and you're thinking about staying until the rain passes, maybe catching up on the book you were reading. But judging by the number of people present in the cafe right then, you figured you wouldn't have a chance to even open a book. Initially, you assumed most of these people were taking a quick shelter because of the rain, but when you noticed the large number of girls with their giggles and chatters, you figured out what was going on. Today is Saturday, the day when the cute part-timer will be here. Of course, you should have expected the place to be full with zero vacancies.

Right then, you spotted a corner table where a guy sat quietly by himself, a book covering his face as he read. You grimaced at the way he was holding the book at eye level with one hand. To you, that's the most uncomfortable way to read, especially with a hardcover book. But hey, each to his own, right? You shouldn't judge people just because their ways aren't what you're used to. Especially right now when you're in dire need of a seat and he has a table for two by himself.

"Hi, excuse me? Are you alone? Do you mind if I sit here?" you pleaded, your tray heavy in your hand and not because of its actual weight but because you were being really careful not to spill the mug of hot coffee. The guy didn't even look up from his book when he dragged his glass slightly towards him, a gesture telling you he was making space for you on the table. "Oh, thanks, you're a lifesaver!"

You set your tray down and placed your orders on the table before a service crew came over to take the tray. As you settled down, you fished the Kindle from your bag, glancing at his book to see what he was reading. "The Republic by Plato? Are you a student here?"

He peered at you over the book, lowering it slightly to reveal a set of big, round, dark brown eyes and arched eyebrows. You grinned sheepishly, now realizing that your attempt at small talk was a bad idea. First, he probably wanted some peace and quiet, too immersed in his book and didn't want to be disturbed; second, you're not even fond of making casual conversations with strangers in the first place.

"Oh, sorry. I had to read the same book last semester for class so I just assumed you're a student here too," you explained.

"You're a senior?" he asked, lowering the book on the table for a moment. You were able to take a good look at his face which bears somewhat exotic but good-looking features. He had a prominent nose, and pouty lips that caused his jaw to clench when they were pursed. "That's a requirement for senior Political Sciences students."

"Yeah! Yes, I am," you smiled, nodding as you stirred your steaming coffee so you had an excuse not to look him in the eyes. He seemed older than you, you could tell by the way he was sitting and his manner of speaking. Also because of the way he's not dressed like guys your age. "How about you?"

That was your low-key attempt at asking his age.

"I graduated a few years ago," he shrugged before taking his iced coffee and sipping from the glass straw.

"Ah, I see, you're an oppa," you noted, nodding again as you blew on your cup. You stopped in your tracks, realizing belatedly the implication of your reply. You looked up at him and sure enough, he had a confused smile on his lips. You briskly sat up and shook your head and hands at him. "No, no, I mean, like you're older than me. That's all. I'm not trying to flirt or anything."

He just nodded with his eyebrows, smiling wider with his lips together before returning to his book. "What's your name?"

You fumbled with the thoughts in your head, suddenly forgetting your own name upon being asked what it was. After clearing your throat to silence your crazed brain, you told him your name and threw in that you're a senior Linguistics student.

"Linguistics have Plato?" he asked, referring to the subject you mentioned a while ago.

"No, but I took an elective."

"Hmmh, you seem to have plenty of time," he replied, eyes still glued on his book. "Seungcheol."

"Huh?"

His eyes fluttered to you. "My name. It's Choi Seungcheol."

"Oh, I wasn't ask— I mean, yeah, nice to meet you, Seungcheol-nim."

Seungcheol flattened his lips together in a smile before shifting his gaze back to the book. You smiled back, although his eyes had already left you. After that brief exchange, you both plunged into your own worlds, reading books in two different mediums, immersing yourselves in two different types of literature, and drinking coffee at two different temperatures. The little nook you shared was quiet, even with the chattering around the cafe and the consistent giggling when the handsome part-timer would smile at a random someone among the customers. You were so immersed in your own little world that you lost track of time, only realizing how long you've been sitting there when you touched your cup and it has gone cold. Seungcheol's spot in front of you is empty. The rain has stopped too, leaving a mist behind that fogged the glass.

"Okay. I will stop here because I have self-control and John Green will still be here when I come back to it," you whispered to yourself, like a mantra to keep yourself from using up all of your time doing something you consider to be unproductive.

As you tucked away your reading tablet, you spotted a piece of untouched donut on the table and a note with it that said: It was nice to meet you, Y/N. - SC

"You ate it? You ate it?!" Seolhee, your roommate, hollered at you when you told her about meeting Seungcheol and the donut he left for you. "You ate a donut from a stranger?"

"Technically, he's no longer a stranger. I already knew him when he gave me that."

"Yeah, for three hours!"

You sighed, lying on the couch. "You're missing the point."

"No, you're missing the point. You ate food left to you by a stranger. What if he was some creepy old guy who's slipping chemicals on women's food and then abducts them?"

"Okay. You do have a point," you told her, sitting back up again. "But first, he's not creepy old, maybe like three or four years older. Second, it was at The Coffeehouse. What kind of psycho kidnapper would abduct women in broad daylight and in a crowded cafe? And third, he just didn't strike me as a bad guy. I mean, he seemed completely normal, educated even. And you know I have a good eye for people."

"Yes, you have. But you can't entrust your safety to intuition alone. For all we know, it could be a ploy. Get you to warm up to him before he abducts you and leaves you in a ditch, naked and lifeless."

You shook your head. Criminal Psychology had Seolhee thinking the worst things about people, but you don't blame her because she obviously had a point and you were admittedly being naive when you did what you did. Still, you stood by your initial impression of Choi Seungcheol; he's a decent guy.

"So, is he handsome?" Yoori asked, just as she had finished doing her makeup in front of the mirror.

"Yoori!" Seolhee chided but your other roommate just shrugged.

"What? If you're wrong, and he really was a decent guy, then we have to know if he was good-looking enough for our girl."

"Why does that matter?" Seolhee questioned, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Because he might have a crush on her. He left y/n a donut and a note. That's something a guy won't do unless he has a reason to."

"He's old."

"No, he's just a little older," Yoori corrected, jumping over to your side of the couch. "So, how much older is he? You know, older guys are way more attractive. They're mature and open-minded. Sometimes they can be a little intense too, but that's the best thing about them."

"Intense?" you asked and she scooted closer to whisper in your ear.

"Oh, you know..." In a lower but clearly audible voice, she said, "Intense and experienced."

"Okay. You're done," Seolhee announced, tapping your shoulder repeatedly. "Get up and go to bed. You have class."

But Yoori grabbed your head and locked it in a hug. "Hey, don't baby my y/n. She's old enough for that conversation! She even brought a guy here before!"

You slipped away from her grasp and ran to your bedroom, shutting the door behind you as you heard them bicker. It's one thing to live with roommates, but it's another when said roommates are two people with different personalities who are dating steadily. Seolhee and Yoori are such people. You liked living with them but ever since you moved in, they started treating you like their very own daughter even when you're literally the same age. You gotta admit though, it feels good to be taken care of.

Your coffee runs went on as usual; just dropping by to grab a cup and then leaving. Sitting around a cafe isn't really something you habitually do, especially when you're alone. Even though you were curious about Seungcheol, you never thought about sharing a table with him again or turning your spontaneous acquaintance into an actual friendly relationship. Admittedly though, each time you went to the cafe, you found yourself looking around to see if he was there but so far you haven't seen him again since that one rainy Saturday. You assumed he wasn't a regular but it could also be the timing of your visits. Either way, he only ever crossed your mind when you're at the cafe. Then two weeks in, it got to a point where your eyes automatically scanned the cafe in search of him and when you realized that you had subconsciously associated him with the cafe, you felt like a foolish teenager with a massive crush on someone.

"I gotta stop doing that," you chided yourself after you walked inside the cafe and did your routine quick scan of the place.

"Doing what?" Yoori asked, both her and Seolhee casting curious gazes at you.

You shook your head and nervously replied with the first excuse you came up with, "Talking to myself."

You looked for a vacant table while your roommates ordered the food. As you did, you spotted the corner table you shared with Seungcheol and found him sitting there by himself, reading a book. Seeing him there made your heart race, an unfamiliar kind of nervousness creeping into your chest. Seungcheol looked unfamiliar too, as if it was the first time you'd laid eyes on him. But then again, you never really got the chance to get to know him properly, let alone take the time to familiarize what he looks like.

"Who's that?" you heard Seolhee ask and only then did you realize you were staring at Seungcheol.

"No one," you said briskly, sounding defensive. You folded when Seolhee gave you a skeptical gaze. "I mean, someone. That's the guy I told you about. Choi Seungcheol."

"Choi Seungcheol?" Seolhee grimaced but Yoori gasped. "That name rings a bell."

"Seungcheol? The donut guy?" asked Yoori to whom you responded with a nod. "Well, isn't he a looker?"

"He is, but stop looking. You guys are embarrassing," you scolded quietly, tugging Yoori's hand to sit her down. You talked about random stuff for a while, eating your second breakfast between conversations. Yoori, however, can't seem to get over seeing Seungcheol for the first time.

"You should go say hi to him or something," she chimed when she caught you staring in his direction for the nth time. You chuckled incredulously, acting like you just heard a ridiculous suggestion.

"Why should I?" you questioned, hiding your nervousness behind your mug as you sipped from it.

"You can't stop looking over there. You might as well just approach him."

You didn't, of course. But you saw him stand up and get ready to leave. Just as he was passing by your table, he gave you a smile and an acknowledging nod that you returned politely. It was a fleeting exchange, almost unnoticed but you knew your friends saw that. As soon as he was far enough, Seolhee tapped your arm.

"I know that guy. Choi Seungcheol, was it? He's friends with the professor I am currently working for as a TA," she announced.

"He is?" you questioned, glancing briefly at Seungcheol who's now standing by the doorway, chatting a coffeeshop staff. "Does he teach?"

Seolhee crossed her arms over her chest, thinking. "I don't think so. From what I know, he's probably a lawyer or something. He graduated law school here three years ago and he's older than us by... five years, I think?"

"How do you know all that?" asked Yoori.

"I told you, he's friends with the prof. He comes by sometimes and they chat. Sometimes I hear them talking so I pick up things. They seem close too. They're probably related."

You just shrugged, intrigued to know a little about him but you're also less curious now that you know he's not only older but old enough to have a decent job and have his life figured out. Now that you've thought about it, you realize he's an intellectual. He went to law school, reads Plato to pass the time, and even has a professor for a friend. You can claim yourself to be an academic but not to that extent. Choi Seungcheol is in a different league and your tiny little crush on him faded after finding out how much gap the two of you have, both in age and way of life. You don't even want to begin imagining the possibility that he's wealthy too.

Studying is hard, but for someone who's got nothing else going on with her life, you've grown to love school and studying. College life gave you enough to live a fun life; classes, friends, and hobbies, even dreams and aspirations. It has its advantages but it also has its drawbacks that you dislike so much, like deadlines and homework. As you sat on a tall stool by the long window table at The Coffeehouse, you glared at the words on your computer, muttering curses under your breath. It was late in the evening when you arrived with heavy feet, having no choice but to do your homework here because your roommates had a little party going on in your shared apartment. You had a written task you forgot about and only remembered when a friend from the same class mentioned it to you earlier that evening. Now you have to pull an all-nighter to finish a ten-page in-depth analysis of a famous speech. Is it possible to finish in one night what would have taken at least two days to complete? You blew the hair out of your face again, squinting at the words while a part of the speech played on a loop through your earphones. You could swear you've memorized every word uttered by this person, even the timing of the pauses and the occasional clearing of his throat. If this goes on, you'd go nuts. Time check, 12:45 midnight.

"Okay! Four pages: done, six more to go," you blurted, stretching your arms to start typing again. Downing more of your hot coffee, you focused on the sounds from your earphones. Oblivious to your surroundings, you have cut yourself off from the world, eyes not leaving your screen while you type everything that comes to mind. And when you finally wrote the last line for your paper, you raised your hands in the air to celebrate. Even boasting to yourself when you see the time. "2:15? See, finished it in five hours, no sweat."

You pulled the earphones out of your ears, breathing a sigh of relief as you reached for your cup. Only then did you notice several empty cups sitting next to the warm one you just touched. A strange thing to see because you don't remember ordering this many. Come to think of it, you never ordered a refill but your coffee stayed warm and full the whole time you were working.

"You did great," said the man sitting one chair away. You recognized Seungcheol, eyes fixed on his book while leaning on the backrest of the stool.

"Seungcheol-nim..." you trailed off, wondering if you were right to think he had been reordering your coffee while you were working on your assignment. "Have you been here the whole time?"

His eyes fluttered over to the empty cups and to you, then back to his book. "I was here before you."

"No way, have you been refilling my cup?" you questioned when you noticed that he was drinking iced coffee.

He flipped a page and exhaled. "You look like you could use a few more cups while working," he replied.

You felt your cheeks flare, making you stare into your computer screen then shut your eyes to calm down. If there's one thing you're shy to admit, it's the fact that your heart is fragile for even the smallest acts of service. Imagine this much thoughtfulness from someone you just met? And someone really attractive at that? You'd be head over heels in no time! That can't happen!

"Why though?"

Seungcheol shrugged. "You were too passionate with what you're doing. I was touched."

You weren't sure if he was joking but that made you laugh. "Well, thanks? I guess? I appreciate it."

He gave you a brief glance and nodded. "Anytime."

You looked around the cafe, taking notice of the students with their laptops and sleepy eyes fixated on their screens. It was quiet but you could almost hear the chaos in your fellow students' heads as they worked and studied. Other customers were just lounging, but most of the people there were college students.

"Wow, this place looks miserable," you sighed, returning to your own laptop to save your work. "I guess it's true what they said about this cafe."

"What do they say?" asked Seungcheol, closing his book and crossing his arms over his chest. He looked warm in his brown coat, and you were reminded of the age gap again when you compared his coat to your cartoon sweater. Does he not even dress casually when he lounges at a cafe late at night?

"They say this place becomes a graveyard after midnight," you replied, chuckling. "I mean, every student looks close to dying. Including me."

Seungcheol smiled. "Back in my day, this was a pork belly barbecue restaurant."

"It was?" you questioned, genuinely amazed. But then a snort came out of your mouth. "Sorry, I didn't mean to laugh. It's just that you sounded so old when you said, 'Back in my day'."

Seungcheol chuckled this time. "To be fair, it has been a while and this place looks nothing like it did before. Here, let me show you."

He fished his phone from his coat's pocket and toggled on his screen for a moment before leaning closer to show you a photo. It was of him with some other people and he looked younger in it. You assumed it was when he was still in college and took notice of the place around him. It was a bit shabby, with smoke around, writing on the walls, and barbecue tables all around. It looks nothing like the posh and clean interior of the cafe now.

"This was six years ago while I was in undergrad school. Different, isn't it?"

You nodded in agreement, genuinely impressed by his revelation. "It is. Hard to believe this was the same building." You looked around the cafe. "What happened to that restaurant?"

"The owner passed away a few years back," he replied. "The building was renovated shortly after."

"Well, damn. That got sad pretty fast." You flattened your lips together. "You looked cute when you were a student though."

Your last comment made Seungcheol chuckle. "Thanks?" he replied, sounding unconvinced.

"Right, by the way, if you don't mind me asking," you began, moving to occupy the seat between the two of you. "What do you do for a living?"

"What do I do?"

You nodded with enthusiasm. "Yeah. I have this friend who said you were close with a professor she was assisting. I got curious about your job because you have this academic vibe."

Seungcheol's shoulders rocked as he laughed. "Do I now?"

You smiled sheepishly. "No, not really. But you seem like one. Given your choice of books and professor friend."

He nodded affirmatively. "I can see how you came to that conclusion."

"See, even the way you talk is intelligent," you commented and that seemed to have caught him off-guard, making him laugh shyly and look away for a second.

"Do you always speak that way?"

Your hands flew over your mouth, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Why? How do I speak?"

"Like you're empowering people by praising them too much," he replied. "Or do you do it unknowingly?"

"Is that how I sounded? Wow, that explains a lot of things," you blurted, recalling all the times you got unwanted attention from guys who claimed you were flirting with them.

"Like what?"

"What?" you retorted, refusing to answer honestly.

"Never mind, but to answer your question, I'm not really an academic, whatever you think that is." He paused and appeared to hesitate before saying, "I'm a liar."

"A lawyer?"

"No, a liar."

"Yes, a lawyer," you repeated, chuckling as you took a sip from your still-warm cup of coffee. "I figured that much after finding out you went to law school."

"You know an awful lot about me," he quipped so you shook your head in denial.

"No. Just that bit." You paused, realizing you knew more than that bit. "And your professor friend. And maybe your... age... too..."

"My age? Were you curious about my age?"

Yes. "No," you lied, laughing derisively. "It just came up during the one time when we talked about you. Once."

Seungcheol chuckled heartily. "Alright, if you say so."

You were still reeling in embarrassment when your phone buzzed, signaling a message from Yoori. She was asking if you're still out and when you'd be back so you took that as your cue to leave.

"I have to go. It's way past my bedtime," you quipped, pointing at your wristwatch. That prompted Seungcheol to check his too.

"Yeah, looks like it." He smiled at you, a friendly smile that you knew you'd be seeing again sometime. "Good luck with your assignment."

"Ugh, don't remind me." You rolled your eyes as you finished packing up your stuff. "See you around, Seungcheol-nim."

Your little meet-ups with Seungcheol were spontaneous and mostly happened when you least expected it. But over time, you got familiar with his patterns and found out he was there at random but at specific times of day; either late in the morning or late at night. Most of the time, you catch him there late in the morning, in the quiet nook he seemed to have reserved for himself or the long table by the windows. Whenever he sees you walk in by yourself, he offers to share his table where you would lose track of time just talking. The subjects of your conversations were random, often mundane but interesting enough to keep discussing. In these encounters, you found out how, despite your differences in preferences, you share common interests in literature, coffee, and music. He still speaks like an older guy, and his insights were interesting. More often than not, your opinions agree with each other. On the rare occasions when it doesn't, you're always the first to call him out, sparking a friendly debate that lets you in on his deep thoughts about the matter. While the age gap isn't that much and most people his age are good enough with technology and trends, Seungcheol admits he does not indulge too much in such things. This became something you would always tease him about.

"Is this seat taken?" you asked the moment you caught him by himself at his usual table. He panicked at your arrival, closing his book at once and hiding it under his hands.

"No classes today?" he casually asked but you already have your eyes on the book he was hiding. You sat across from him and placed your stuff on the vacant chair.

"Not until 2:30. What's that you got there?" you hinted, grinning mischievously before trying to snatch it. Seungcheol was quick to hide it and pretended not to know what you meant, looking around stupidly. "You don't have to hide it. I know that book. I saw it when I came in. I thought you're not a fan of romance novels?"

Seungcheol quietly took the book out of his coat and placed it on the table with a flustered expression. "I'm not but I do read a few. And this is a good book."

You grimaced. "Wait till you finish reading it."

"I have actually. I like to re-read this from time to time," he confessed, clearing his throat as if he was embarrassed to say what he just said.

Now you're straight-up giving him a judging gaze. "No, you don't."

"I do."

"But it's terrible. The author portrayed love in the most clichéd way possible and she wrote the most boring main character ever with no character development and ended up leaving everything behind for a guy. She started as a damsel in distress that needed saving and she stayed that way until a macho male character saved her. So boring."

"I disagree. The story is set in the 1500s when opportunities were scarce for women. She was denied a lot of things and had to live a life mapped out for her by society and other people. Her love interest was a man with access to limitless privileges. And while I do admire headstrong and independent female protagonists, I also think it's alright to get out of a bad place with someone else's help."

"I have to admit, that's a good point. But that's not the only problem. The author wrote a perfect love interest. He's too nice and charismatic. Also consistent and cares about her thoughts et cetera. He's too good to be true. And the way he pined for her and never gave up on her? Unrealistic! That's where I draw the line."

"I thought you didn't finish it?" he teased. "You seem to know the story better than I do."

Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms over your chest. "I had to force myself to finish it because it was for an assignment. I remember writing an analysis and a vicious critique on it."

"Did your professor agree with you though?"

"Hah! Of course not! But she still gave me a good grade for my work. Her insights were the same as yours, actually. Obviously, people can have different opinions about the same things. So, you're entitled to your own opinions just as I am to mine," you replied, chiming as you recalled that particular time in your life.

"Have you ever been in love?" he asked, as if challenging you to argue your claim.

"I have. That's why I know the author made a fantasy version of love."

"You don't know that. What's fantasy to you might be reality for her. Or to whoever it was that she got the inspiration from."

You scoffed, "Seungcheol-nim, love is subjective. You can continue enjoying that book. You don't have to convince me. My last relationship showed me an entirely different version of romance. While he seemed like the man from the novel at the very beginning, with his handwritten letters and sweet-smelling flowers, it took him four months to show his true colors. He dated three women while we were together. Three! And we're all from the same university!"

Seungcheol looked appalled. "He did?"

"Yes! Gosh, he was an absolute jerk. I always wondered how he got away with it for that long."

"That's relatable, somehow," he commented, making you snigger.

"What? You got cheated on too?" you asked but then you saw him hesitate so you shook your hands at him. "You don't have to answer that if you don't want to. I'm only comfortable telling you about my ex because I believe more people should know what a scumbag he is."

He laughed upon hearing that. "Alright, but did that last relationship change how you think about love at all?"

You crossed your arms over your chest and confidently said, "Of course not. All I got from that experience was that he was a jerk, and love is a different experience each time. I know not everyone will treat me the same way. I've had good relationships before that."

"If any of it were good, it wouldn't have ended and you wouldn't have met your last ex." His comment made you scowl and snicker.

"So you're like a love expert now?" you teased so he laughed heartily. "I mean, I had no idea I could talk to you about love and romances like this."

"Honestly? Me too," he laughed, tapping the book on the table. "This book has this effect on me, I guess."

After a few more criticisms about the book, you and Seungcheol let the hours tick by just talking. Lunchtime came soon enough and you had to leave first because you made plans with some friends to eat lunch together.

"Ah, can I get your number?" he asked just as you were about to leave. He handed his phone to you and added, "If you don't mind."

"Yeah, sure," you told him, taking his cell to type in your number. You've been talking and hanging out with Seungcheol for almost a month already, but this is the first time he asked you for your number. Not that he has to because you two never really needed to talk remotely. Thinking about it now, you don't really have anything to talk about on the phone. Maybe that's why he never asked for your number before nor did you wonder why you don't have his. Sure, you follow each other on social media, but asking for your number means you are closer now and will probably start texting each other.

You were right. When you got home after school that day, you received a text message from him, introducing himself and asking you to save his phone number. Turns out Seungcheol is going out of town for work and wants to keep in touch.

Seungcheol: Execs are boring. I could use someone to talk to.

You: it's okay to admit that you chose me because you don't have other friends

You grinned mischievously after sending your reply, happy to tease him. You once asked him why he's always alone when you find him in the cafe and the subject ended with you concluding that he had no friends. It has since become an inside joke between the two of you that you would sometimes tease him about.

Seungcheol: I do have friends but I'll admit I enjoy our talks more than with any of them.

You: Okay, Seungcheol-nim.

Seungcheol: Speak comfortably, y/n. You don't have to keep calling me Seungcheol-nim.

You: ??? You: I'm used to it now tho You: It would be weird to start calling you oppa LOL

Seungcheol: Why is that weird? I'm older so technically, I am your oppa.

Shock triggered your hand to lose grip on your phone and send it falling on your forehead, making you yelp and sit up from the bed. Groaning, you pressed the throbbing space between your eyebrows and picked up the device to reread Seungcheol's message.

"Wow," you sneered. "Choi Seungcheol, you handsome specimen, you better not be flirting with me."

You: Alright, then, Seungcheol-oppa.

"Because I will flirt right back," you mumbled, unable to hide your grin.

You had no idea at the time that your little nook in the cafe was about to expand and take up a bigger space in your lives.

Texting Seungcheol was funny to you because it eerily felt like an email correspondence. He sounded serious all the time and formatted his texts in a standard manner. He's too formal and rarely ever used emojis. He reacts with a plain 'hahaha' and the best you can get out of him is a 'lol'. It was probably because he's a lawyer; the formal nature of his job must have influenced even his basic activities, like casual chatting and texting. Surely it has to be that because there is no way he's too old to know how to use emojis or any slang. After all, five years ain't that much of a gap.

Seungcheol: Yes, it is extremely boring but this will all be over tomorrow so I'm holding out.

You: damn You: 1 more day of listening to old men talk all day? You: couldn't be me. You: I'd be gone on the first day. props to you for surviving the past three days tho

Seungcheol: lol hahaha

"Eh? Did he really just 'lol hahaha' me?" You squinted at your screen, glaring too much that you thought your eyes might bore a hole through your phone. Your thumb tapped the call button before pressing the device to your ear.

Seungcheol picked up almost immediately, clearing his throat on the other line before greeting you with a "Hello?"

"Is now a bad time for a call?"

"The day is over and I'm in my suite now so no, it's not a bad time."

You nodded, although he couldn't see it. "Good. My fingers are tired," you lied because you thought it would be rude to tell him you can't handle any more of his boring standard text formatting.

"Really? You could just tell me, you know. We can call it a day. Get some rest. Talk again tomorrow."

His voice reverberated beautifully in your ears; calm, well-articulated, and soothing, like mellow music playing in a cafe. That alone was enough for your heart to feel at ease but he just said you can talk again tomorrow. He's saying he wants to continue your little chats. He's enjoying your company even though it's only through the phone. Maybe you're right, but maybe you're reading too much on something that has no meaning at all. Either way, your heart swelled with excitement and joy along with a tiny ache that you can't explain. You knew this feeling since you've felt it before. The friendship you have with Seungcheol is starting to make your heart flutter.

"Hah!" you scoffed at your own thoughts. "Alright then. Good night, Seungcheol-nim."

"Or we could talk now too! Now!" he blurted in a panic, making you laugh. "I mean, if you're not tired yet. We could keep talking. Isn't this better than texting?"

"It is," you agreed. "But what can I do? It's already past my bedtime."

Seungcheol chuckled. "I thought your bedtime was at 3?"

"It's constantly changing. It's the era of drastic changes, Seungcheol-nim. Adaptability is a good edge," you jested. You can hear him laughing from the other side and couldn't help grinning to yourself. He sounded so humored that you felt a little proud of your wit.

"Right," he said as he stopped laughing and cleared his throat. "So is it your bedtime yet or what?"

"No. My bedtime changed thirty seconds ago. Adaptability, you know."

He went on to laugh again, making you grin fondly. It wasn't even that funny but he's laughing like he's in a standup bar or something. Either way, the sound that's filling your ears is also making your heart feel full.

The next morning, Seolhee complained about you being a tad too loud last night with your laughter and giggling. That caught you off-guard, making you hide your phone after sending a reply to Seungcheol's message.

"Sorry. I was on the phone with someone," you confessed, scrunching your nose cutely as you watched Seolhee take her seat on the dining table.

"Have you started seeing someone again?" she speculated. "You talked for hours last night so it must be serious."

You shook your head. "No, duh. It's just Seungcheol-nim."

"Choi Seungcheol?" Yoori asked, placing a plate of side dishes on the table. "You're dating Seungcheol now? Good for you, girl!"

"What? No!" you strongly denied. "We were just talking. It was a friendly chat."

"Friendly chats don't go on until past midnight, y/n," Seolhee hinted, giving you a knowing look. "Whatever it is that you think have with him right now, you better confirm it before you go falling for him. I know he's charming and all that but safeguard your heart."

Yoori hummed affirmatively. "She's right but falling for him is not that bad an idea. He seemed nice."

"He does seem nice but you have to first make sure you're on the same page. The earlier you know, the better. You can't wait until you've fallen for him before you ask what his intentions are."

You would never bring up relationships with Seungcheol, especially between the two of you. It would only make things awkward between you if it turns out he was just being friendly and even more so if you find out that he was looking to date you. Why? He is a wonderful guy, but there are a lot of things to consider. You don't know his background despite knowing his hobbies, his dislikes, his habits, etc. You can't help but think Cheol had been hiding behind a persona the whole time or that he isn't willing to properly open up to you. Sure, you're up close and personal, but there's a fine line between who he is with you and who he is as a person. Somehow it felt like you knew a lot about him but not enough to really know who he is.

So you sat in front of your computer, looking through his Instagram account for any clue about his life. Based on the dates of his posts, he rarely updated his feed and probably never used the site that much. He had random pictures posted there but he didn't have one of himself except on a handful of group pictures. His profile picture isn't even of himself but a dog.

"So he has a pet, huh?" you mumbled, smiling at the pictures of a cute Maltese dog. "Of course, he has one. He looked like the kind who would have one. I wonder who takes care of it when he's away or when he's at work."

You were still scrolling through his posts when your phone buzzed, signaling a message. It was Seungcheol. "Wow, you really should not speak of the devil."

Seungcheol: Any plans tomorrow night? I have two tickets to a concert. You can have the other one if you want it.

You grimaced. "Or you could just invite me to go with you like a normal person."

You pouted as you thought about what to say but then something in your mind clicked, sending your heart on a rampage. Could it be that he's inviting you to go with him? Obviously, he is, right? He said he had two tickets and he'll give you one. That's it, right? That's the invite!

"Oh lord," you blurted, closing your laptop and tucking it into your bag before you went running out of the cafe. You typed in a hurried reply as you walked briskly back to your shared apartment.

Barging into your apartment and closing the door with a loud slam, you stared wide-eyed at Seolhee and Yoori who looked back at you curiously.

"I think Seungcheol-oppa just invited me out on a date."

"And?" Seolhee asked while Yoori was suppressing excited squeals.

"And I might have said 'yes'."

Seolhee was stern about your ambiguity. You said you were invited, but you also said it wasn't an explicit invitation. Still, she helped you prepare for the date along with Yoori who was just leaping with joy.

"Remember, he didn't say it was a date. So don't overthink it," Seolhe told you while styling your hair on the night of said date. "As long as he doesn't say it out loud, there is no real relationship between you other than a friendly relationship."

"Remember also to enjoy the night," Yoori interjected. "Don't let negativity ruin the experience."

“Now, where is he? Didn’t he say he’d pick you up?” Seolhee asked as soon as you were ready to leave. Dressing up took a while because you couldn’t decide which dress to wear and what look to go with. It’s a classical music concert and the dress code was black tie. Thankfully, your roommates were eager to help.

“He should be here by now,” you replied, glancing at the clock on the wall. At that moment, the doorbell of your shared apartment rang.

Cheol was dashing in his suit. He had always looked attractive in casual clothing–a shirt, a jacket, or a layer of coats and shirts. But seeing him all dressed up made you giddy. Even his hair is styled neatly. He greeted your friends and had a small talk before you got into his car. You know he drives a car, but you've never really seen him in it. When you pointed that out, he said the cafe was close by so he always walked there.

"Are we neighbors?" you had asked.

And he replied with, "No, not really. I go the opposite way from your apartment. So, we’ve been meeting halfway all this time."

The concert was fancy, not your type of scene but you enjoyed it nonetheless. Even the people looked wealthy. It was a hall filled with all kinds of people who exuded an air of elegance, power, or authority about them. As if that’s not intimidating enough, you and Seungcheol had to sit in a private booth on the second floor, away from the regular crowd, with just about five other people there with you. They said your guts would know if you’re somewhere you shouldn’t be, perhaps that’s why your belly is turning.

You weren't poor, but you're not rich enough to afford these types of pastimes either. Your parents are self-made businessmen who are earning enough to be in the upper-middle-class society. Still, even an occasional, super rare splurge on shopping is a luxury. Thus, you started to wonder what Sungcheol does for a living. Is he self-made? Do lawyers earn a lot? Or did he come from a wealthy family? It must be his family because operas and classical music are usually acquired tastes.

The concert ended and was met with a standing ovation. Heck, even the way these people clapped was elegant, like there was a certain discipline to it. No cheering, no hoots and whistles, just synchronous, pleasant-sounding clapping.

You were still clapping when you felt Seungcheol’s shoulder on yours. He was leaning to your ear, whispering, “Come meet my parents.”

“Your what?” you blurted, surprised. Before you could utter another word, however, Seungcheol was already tugging on your waist, ushering you toward the other side of the booth. You spotted two elders who you assumed were his parents. With them was a younger man who just said something that made the elegant lady laugh.

Then the younger man caught sight of you and smiled widely. “It’s Seungcheol!”

“Mother, Father,” Seungcheol greeted as soon as you got closer to where they were standing. You clenched your fists, hoping to stop them from jittering. “Good to see you.”

Mother? Father? Don’t people usually call their parents ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’?

“Hello, hunny,” his mother beamed, welcoming Seungcheol in her arms when he moved to hug her. And while his father was shaking hands with him, his mother eyed you curiously. “And who is this lovely lady?”

“Oh, um–”

“This is my friend, y/n,” Seungcheol introduced. “She’s joining me this evening.”

“So I see,” the Mother chimed. She glided over to you for a quick embrace. “It’s nice to meet you, darling.”

“It’s good to meet you too,” you replied with a smile. “You raised an excellent man.”

His mother laughed heartily, flattered. “I wouldn’t boast about it, but he did grow up excellently.”

You shared a giggle before Seungcheol’s father spoke to you. “Are you a friend from work? You look quite young to be a lawyer. Fresh from the bar exams, I take it?”

“Uh, no,” you replied, trying your best to not appear nervous. “I’m actually still a student. AB Linguistics.”

“Ah, I see,” his father hummed. “Linguistics? That’s a good program.”

“Thank you, sir,” you beamed. “I enjoy it very much.”

“As you should. Seunghan here is pursuing Linguistics too. He’s in his fourth year.”

Seunghan, Seungcheol’s brother smiled widely at you. You smiled back and said, “I’m in my fourth year too.”

“Really? Wow, are we the same age?” he asked, genuinely amazed. He turned to Seungcheol. “We’re the same age? I almost called her Noona.”

Seungcheol was about to respond when a woman interjected with a cheery greeting. It was the cellist from the concert, the star of this event. She first went to greet Seunghan and then the parents.

“Thank you so much for coming,” she told the father, who smiled in response.

“It was an impressive performance. You did well,” he praised.

“Mom, you’re glowing,” she told Seungcheol’s mother. “You look even prettier than the last time we saw each other.”

“Oh, you sweet little fox,” his mother chided, but she was giggling and touching her face. The woman’s statement seemed to have flattered her more than when you said her son was excellent. And she called her Mom, she must be family.

“Oppa!” she exclaimed, leaping a little to wrap her arms around Seungcheol whose arms were still around your waist. You got pushed aside, violently, and fell on the floor with a thud.

Embarrassment made your cheeks flare as you hurriedly stood. Seungcheol helped you up, worriedly asking if you were alright.

“I’m sorry,” the other woman apologized. “I didn’t think that would happen. How clumsy of me.”

You smiled half-heartedly, looking away from everyone’s worried gazes. “I’m fine,” you told Seungcheol who was still eyeing you with concern. You patted your dress down, feeling extremely shy.

Then the woman held out her hand, “I’m Mina. Nice to meet you.”

You stared at the hand for a moment before taking it in yours and telling her your name. “It was a great concert. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you liked it,” she smiled, then looked at Seungcheol. “Is she your friend? I’ve never seen her before.”

“She is,” he replied curtly. You couldn’t help noticing Mina’s elegant demeanor. She exuded elegance and class that you’ve only seen on TV shows about rich people. The way she spoke was beautiful and enticing. Even her motions were so fluid and beautiful, plus her mannerisms were cute. It was like being in the presence of someone who is hundreds of times better than regular people–than you are.

“Anyway, thanks again for coming, oppa,” Mina told Seungcheol, patting his shoulder before placing her hands on both. She flashed a sweet, coquettish smile and leaned to kiss Seungcheol on his cheek. “See you again soon?”

“Okay,” Seungcheol replied, flattening his lips into a smile.

Mina turned to you, her hand sliding naturally on Seungcheol’s arm and linking it there. “It was nice to meet you, y/n. Good thing you’re not dating because that would have been so awkward.” She laughed.

"No, we're just friends,” Seungcheol iterated.

“I know. You already said so, oppa,” Mina beamed. “I have to go. Thanks for coming and see you next time.”

She then fled the booth, leaving you and Sungcheol there by yourselves. His parents left a while ago, telling you to catch up with Mina. Seunghan didn’t stay for long too, and left shortly after their parents. Your eyes flitted over to Seungcheol who was still looking at the door Mina exited on. You even witnessed the heavy sigh he let out a few minutes later before turning to you.

“Shall we go?”

You nodded in response. He offered his arm for you to hold on to and you did just that as you walked out of the booth, to the hall, to the lobby, until you reached the entrance where his car was being driven out of the parking lot by the valet. The first few minutes of the ride home were quiet and it was stressing you out. He should at least say something to fix this awkward atmosphere. Maybe, you should. But you had no idea what to talk about.

Should you ask him about his family? Or Mina? What do you have to lose? He brought you here so he should expect you to have questions. This is one way to get to know each other, right? Right.

“How do you know the cellist?” you began, eliciting an inquiring hum from Seungcheol. “Mina, the cellist. You seem to know each other.”

“Ah, her,” he acknowledged, pausing. “Yeah, we knew each other. We used to be in a relationship.”

You expected this to be the answer, but it still shocked you to hear him confirm it. “I see.”

“We broke up a long time ago. She had to leave and study music abroad. It couldn’t be helped.”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed. You couldn’t say anything because your mind was focusing on the slight but stabbing pain in your chest. You were, in fact, feeling a little jealous. Mina was everything you’re not. She’s close with his family too and they have a history. Maybe Seungcheol was just being friendly, after all.

When you arrived home, your roommates were excited to hear about the date, but you told them you were tired and wanted to sleep. As thoughts floated through your mind endlessly, you wondered if he brought you to the concert as a decor to make his ex jealous. That made you even sadder but you told yourself you were overthinking it and you know he is not that kind of guy.

And then again, if you think about it, did you really truly know him that well?

You hadn't heard from Seungcheol for a while after the concert. Sad, but it was fine too because you weren't really looking for him. You had a crush on the guy, but it was over before it got deeper–which was good because now you don’t have to think about him all the time. School was demanding enough, you can’t have a guy distracting you from that.

And yet, despite your constant denial, not a day passed by without Seungcheol crossing your mind. What can you do? You don’t just forget someone overnight, especially if you like that person. Funnily enough, thoughts of Seungcheol never distracted you from your studies, instead, they made you want to work harder.

That said, you sat at a table at The Coffeehouse with a classmate to work on a project. His name was Jinwoo and he’s been flirting with you all semester. In fact, he paired up with you on this project just so he could spend time with you–he said so himself. He’s alright; charming, smart, and cute. Although you had no intentions of going out with him yet, you thought it would be fine to see where things would go. Especially with Seungcheol out of your hair.

“Seungcheol-nim?” you blurted. You were just thinking about Seungcheol when you realized the person who approached your table just now was him.

“Hello, y/n. How have you been?” He was asking you, but his eyes were fixated on Jinwoo, who only noticed Seungcheol when you called out his name.

“I’ve been well,” you replied hesitantly, recognizing his intense gaze on your classmate. “This is Jinwoo. We’re working on a project together.”

“A project?” he asked, his face softening as he glanced at you. “Good. I texted you.”

“Oh, you did?” You fished your phone from your bag and saw that he did message you; one from last night and another a few hours ago. “Sorry. I was working on school stuff. I haven’t been checking my phone much.”

“Alright. I won’t disturb you. Good luck,” he smiled.

“Yeah, I’ll text you later.”

“You don’t have to. But I’ll call you after dinner.”

You tilted your head in wonder. But you still said, “Okay.”

And he did, he called you at around 8 that night and asked how your day went. It wasn't strange to tell him how your day went. That had always been your topic every time you called each other at night. But Sungcheol seemed overly interested in it today. He kept asking more questions instead of responding to your answers with a few accounts of his own day. When he seemed to have run out of anything to ask about your day, he asked about your partner on the project.

"So, do you always get paired up with that guy?"

Your brows creased. "That guy? Jinwoo?"

He changed his question. "Never mind. How long have you been working on that paper?"

"Just a few days,” you replied, lying down to stare at the ceiling.

"Three days?" he asked from the other line.

"Now that you mentioned it, yes, it's been three days. How'd you guess that?"

Sungcheol huffed. "I just did."

"You just did?"

"We haven't talked for three days, so I just pieced it together."

"I see," you hummed, nodding even though you know he can't see it. You squinted your eyes, realizing something in his tone and attitude ever since you started this conversation. "Seungcheol-nim, is this an interrogation?"

"And there's that too," he sighed from the other line. You can almost picture how his already pouty lips are pouting even more along with the creasing of his forehead.

"What?" you asked.

"Seungcheol-nim."

"Huh?"

"Seungcheol-nim. When did you decide to go back to calling me that?"

"Oh, that? Just recently."

"Why is that?"

Because you found out his ex called him oppa and is still calling him that. "Just because. It shouldn't matter. How I address you is not that big of a deal."

"It's not?"

"No. It's not."

"Alright."

"Alright..." he echoed. You had nothing else to say to that, so you just breathed. The thoughts swimming in your head don't make sense, but you let them keep your mind busy instead of overthinking this whole conversation with Seungcheol. He's gone quiet too, probably running out of anything else to say. Or probably thinking random thoughts like you are. But it looks like he didn't want to end the call and of course, you don't really want to either.

"Seungcheol-nim?" Breathing. All you can hear from the other line is breathing; deep inhales and calm exhales from him that make you assume he had fallen asleep.

"Are you sleeping?" you asked but again, all you could hear was calm breathing. You pictured him on his bed, one hand pressing the phone on his ear and the other resting on his abdomen. You pictured the rise and fall of his chest with every inhale of air that you can hear. You pictured his face, peaceful and handsome even with his eyes closed. These are the thoughts and images that filled your head as you closed your eyes and fell asleep to the sound of his breathing

Your phone was dead when you woke up in the morning, making you wonder how long were you on the phone with Seungcheol; if he really was asleep the whole time, or if he woke up and hung up sometime in the night. As soon as you turned it on after a quick trip to the bathroom, you found a message from him.

Seungcheol: Working all day today. Cafe tonight? My treat.

You smiled as you typed a reply saying 'yes' to meeting him tonight. The bounce in your steps and the chime in your voice did not miss Seolhee's radar and she ambushed you at the breakfast table.

"You look like you had a good sleep. I thought you said you're done with Seungcheol?" Seolhee began.

"And those two correlate because?"

"Because Seungcheol is obviously the reason why you're smiling today."

"What makes you think so?" you retorted, trying to squirm out of her grasp. You wouldn't lie to her but you would never admit it either, especially after you gave them a whole spiel about you not settling for a guy who seemed uncertain about his intentions.

"I just know."

"You're too confident," you jeered, poking a sausage with your fork and taking a bite out of it.

Seolhee chuckled. "Whatever you do, don't get hurt. I'll kill him myself."

You chortled. "That's weirdly reassuring. Thanks."

You couldn't wait for your evening class to be over and run to the CoffeeHouse. It was an embarrassing thing to admit because only a few days ago, you were upset and told your roommates you didn't want anything to do with Seungcheol anymore. And yet, here you are, back to acting like a giddy teenager.

Seungcheol: Are you still in class? The cafe is closed.

"Damn it?" you muttered upon reading Seungcheol's text. The class just finished and you were walking out of the classroom with other students. As you typed a reply, you noticed Jinwoo walking with you.

"Hi. A little update on our paper," he began, standing in front of you and walking backward so he was face-to-face with you while talking. "I've proofread the entire thing and fixed any error I could find. It's pretty much ready for submission."

You beamed at him. "Thank you, Jinwoo. Do you think it's okay to submit it earlier than the deadline?"

"Knowing Professor Choi? He'd be singing our praises all semester for our punctuality and whatnot."

You giggled, finding his sentiments accurate and funny at the same time. "I bet he will. I'll trust you with it alright?"

"You know you can," he chimed, the lilt in his voice was endearing. "Listen, there's a party at the Delphi this Saturday. Would you like to-"

"Seungcheol-nim!" you called out when you spotted Seungcheol by the gate. He found you among the crowd and waved at you with a smile. The pleasant sight of him smiling didn't last long though because seeing Jinwoo made him scowl.

"The cafe is closed?" you asked as soon as you were within his reach. "Why though? The cafe never closes."

Seungcheol sighed, eyes focused on Jinwoo who was still tailing behind you. "Yeah. Something about a sanitation check. I'm not sure. I just found out about it."

"Did you ask Mingyu?"

"I did. He said it was a sanitation check but he wasn't sure either." He exhaled before shifting his gaze on you. "Do you have other plans tonight?"

You gawked at him for a second and then realized Jinwoo was still there. Seungcheol must have thought you had plans with him.

"No, I don't," you replied then turned to Jinwoo. "Thanks again, Jinwoo. Let me know if Professor Mich says anything about the paper."

"Yeah. Okay," he blurted, backing away. "See you tomorrow."

You smiled at him and beckoned at Seungcheol who was still wearing a deadpan expression. When you've walked far away enough from the gate and Jinwoo had gone his own way too, you tugged on Seungcheol's coat.

"Everything okay? We could just go home, you know. Try again tomorrow?" you asked, thinking he was miffed about the cafe being closed.

"It's alright. There are plenty of other cafes around," he replied, forcing a smile. "Are you okay with walking around tonight? I would have brought a car had I known the Coffeehouse was closed."

You rolled your eyes. "Duh. Let's go."

And thus began a spontaneous night out. Seungcheol suggested you go for a walk to the next cafe but your conversations proved to be too much fun when you missed the cafe and even missed your apartment. It was funny to both of you and you would go on to continue walking until you reached a quiet neighborhood. You climbed the uphill stairs and watched the cityscape from there.

"Seungcheol-nim, what was your dream?"

"My dream?" he asked. surprised.

"Yes, as a child. Your current job, is it what you dreamed of?"

Seungcheol leaned on the railings and gazed at the city lights. "Not a lawyer, for sure. I kinda just had to do it because everyone in the family is doing it."

You rested your chin on the cold steel bar of the railings. "So what was it?"

"A teacher."

Your eyes widened. "A teacher?"

"Yes." He chuckled. Your eyes appreciated how the wind blew his hair out of his face. "A college professor, actually. My uncle was one and he was my role model. I was set on being a teacher before I entered college but as you can see, I'm not."

"How about now? I'm sure you still have time to change careers."

"Nah," he shrugged. "I'm content with where I'm at right now."

"But do you want it?"

Seungcheol looked at you, pursing his lips as he nodded. "Of course. And if I don't change my mind about it in, say five or more years, I might consider shifting."

"It shouldn't be so hard, right? I mean, you're already a lawyer. You can teach criminal justice or something like that."

He smiled at you, impressed by your input. "Yeah. Something like that."

You wiggled your eyebrows. "I bet you'd be a really cool teacher."

Seungcheol frowned. "You said I'm boring and speak like an old man."

"The old man part was a joke and even if you're the boring kind of teacher, you'd still be cool because handsome teachers are cool."

"You think I'm handsome?"

You started laughing a little too loudly after he caught you off-guard. "Did I say that?"

"You didn't but you were implying it."

"You lawyers like to twist people's words, don't you?"

Seungcheol shrugged, chucking his hands in his coat pockets. "Only when it's advantageous. And there was no need to twist anything. The implication was clear."

"Okay, I'm gonna go," you chuckled, walking back down the stairs. Seungcheol followed behind you with a smile. "Oh, and we should drop by the coffee shop. I need caffeine because I've been home all day and there's no coffee at home."

"Isn't it too late for coffee? Don't you need to sleep?" he asked, casually catching your elbow when you lost your balance on the steps.

You felt the way his hand clenched on your arm, impressed by the strength of his hold. Then your mind embarrassingly flashed an image of his muscles underneath his coat. The amount of times you saw him in t-shirts sometimes had you gawking at his strong arms but only now did you start imagining how it would feel like to be locked in those muscles.

"Decaf?" he prompted, making your eyes flutter back to his face. You pulled your arm back and continued walking.

"Yeah. Decaf."

You shook your head a few times, trying to erase the image of yourself in his arms. It was embarrassing and you were worried that he could see through you. He can't obviously, but you still wish you were not giving off any signs. You refused when Seungcheol offered to walk you back to your apartment but he insisted on it, saying it would be dangerous for you to go alone. He must have thought it was weird for you to decline because you never did that before. If he did think that, you'll never know because he never said so.

"What's your dream?" he asked, breaking the silence between you while you walked down the quiet streets.

"Like a dream job?" you questioned, briefly glancing at him to see him nod. "I'm not sure. I actually don't have one. But I was thinking of establishing a tutoring clinic like my mom has."

"A cram school?"

"Yes. My only dream was to be content and happy with my life; to live in the city in a cozy apartment, tending to plants, and reading books. But of course, none of that is possible without an actual job and I thought my mom's job was cool, so I was considering doing what she does."

"You'd make a really cool teacher."

You snorted. "I'm not gonna be a teacher. More like an instructor."

"Aren't they the same thing?"

"They are kind of the same thing," you laughed shyly. "But they're different too. I don't know. I haven't given it much thought. I think I'm just living for the now, going where the flow takes me and not taking control of my own life. It feels awful sometimes."

"How is that awful? Going with the flow is actually smart. Knowing what you want your life to be is good too, even if the path towards that hasn't been planned yet."

You shrugged. "I guess you're right. But I think I'm just lucky enough to not worry about my future as much as other people do. No one's pressuring me into anything, not my parents, not the society."

"Yes. You are lucky."

You pointed to the apartment complex in front of you. "I'm here. Thanks for walking me."

Seungcheol smiled at you, reaching to tuck a few strands of hair behind your ear. "Good night, y/n."

"Good night, Seungcheol-nim."

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Is there any way I can get you to drop that?"

"What? Seungcheol-nim?"

"Yes."

"What else would I call you?"

"You didn't seem to have any problems calling me oppa before?" he complained, looking away as he scratched his nape and muttered. "I liked that better."

"What was that?" you asked when you didn't catch his last sentence. He glanced back at you.

"I said you can call me Cheol."

"I can? But you're older than me."

"It's alright. You said how you address me is not a big deal."

You beamed happily. "Alright, Cheol."

“Alright, y/n.”

You beamed. “Alright.”

“Alright…”

Like Hazel Grace and Augustus, alright has become your always.

Imagine living in a big city, with lots of massive stores, and massive buildings, but you still bump into an ex from three years ago? Baffling. But then, here you are, awkwardly sifting through shelves for a bottle of mayo while your ex asks you how you’ve been.

“I’ve been well, Yeol. Thanks for asking. Now would you please go away? I’m busy.”

Yeol just chuckled, amused. “I see you haven’t changed one bit.”

“I have. I don’t care about anything you have to say anymore,” you retorted but it only made him laugh harder.

“Gosh, y/n. I really fumbled you, didn’t I? You’re so endearing. It’s a shame you had to find out about the other girls.”

In the past, you would have kicked his shins, but you don’t even want to give him the satisfaction of getting a rise out of you. You turned to face him, gave him a deadpan expression, and said, “Move. I need that one there.”

Yeol moved one step aside, letting you take a product from the shelf behind him. As you were examining it, he crossed his arms over his chest and asked, “By the way, I heard you’re seeing someone now. Is it true?”

You scowled, but you didn’t meet his eyes. “It’s not true.”

“It isn’t? That’s good. Save yourself the trouble. Choi Seungcheol and Song Mina are trying to get back together.”

You froze in your tracks, your hand hovering by the shelf as you were about to put a product back in it. Yeol, oblivious to your shock, continued. “From what I heard, they’ll soon be engaged.”

“How did you know?” you asked him, forehead creasing with curiosity and annoyance.

“I know a friend of Song Mina’s. I got to hang out with her the last time she was in Seoul,” he replied but you shook your head at him.

“No. How did you know about me and Seungcheol?”

Yeol touched his chin to think. “I heard from a friend who told me he’d seen my ex-girlfriend with Lawyer Choi.”

“That’s all?”

“He said you two seemed close and asked if I knew you were seeing him. I told him I didn’t, of course. I had no idea what you’ve been up to since we broke up.” Yeol was still talking when you pushed your cart and walked away. He called out your name but you ignored him.

Seungcheol is trying to get back with Mina; why didn’t you think that’d be a possibility? He must still have feelings for her. And if they’re engaged, then it’s fine too. The news made you sad, but at least it was clear to you now that his intentions weren’t to date you or anything. He wanted you as a friend, that's it. Nothing more. At least you now know which place you’re allowed to stand on in his life. If you keep letting yourself mistake his actions for affection, it could end badly for you.

Resolute, you decided to limit contact and meetups. It's inappropriate to keep seeing him regularly when he's trying to win his girl back. There will be no more late-night talks, no more meeting up for coffee, and no more hanging out until late with just the two of you. You’re drawing the line for Mina and him to get back together. And most importantly, for yourself to stop falling for him even more.

Although you’d like to completely avoid him, you couldn’t. Seungcheol never said anything about liking you or trying to date you. So you can’t hold it against him if you develop feelings for him. That’s on you. Plus, you liked being friends with him and he seemed to like that too, so you’re cutting yourself some slack and allowing yourself to at least enjoy your friendship. You feel a little terrible, some itty bitty heartache but it’s fine. Everyone does.

“How are things with Mina?” you had asked him once when you ran into each other at the CoffeeHouse. He had been caught off-guard, but he just shrugged it off.

“We’re working on it,” was what he told you at the time.

“Good for you,” you had replied, although you didn’t mean it.

Over two weeks, you counted all the times he invited you out but you refused: four. You did fewer coffee runs and spent less time in the cafe. You focused on your other hobbies and hung out with your other friends. Whether or not he noticed the shift in you, you wouldn’t know because you never got the chance to talk about it.

“Ready?” Yoori asked, her head peering through the doorway of your bedroom. “Our ride is here.”

“Yeah, I’m just looking for my tumbler,” you replied, going through your bags.

“It’s in the car already,” she prompted, picking up your backpack on your bed. “Let’s go!”

You followed her through the apartment and outside where you saw Seolhee standing by a familiar car, and talking to an even more familiar guy.

“Ah, there they are!” Seolhee exclaimed, beaming at the two of you. “Shall we go now?”

Your eyes were locked on Seungcheol, confused and curious about him being here. He just gave you a smile and a small wave before taking your backpack that Yoori handed over to him. While your friends excitedly occupied the backseat of Seungcheol’s car, you waited for him to load your bag in the trunk and make his way to you.

“Good morning,” he greeted, looking cheerful and excited. “Are you ready to go?”

“What are you doing here?” you questioned sternly.

“What do you mean? Yoori invited me.”

You scowled. “Why would she do that? And why would you say ‘yes’?”

At this point, Seungcheol looked genuinely abashed by your confrontation. “Honestly, I have no idea why she did, but I said ‘yes’ because it sounded fun.”

You sighed, shoulders sagging as you contemplated whether going on this trip was a good idea anymore.

“Y/n, is everything okay? If it’s uncomfortable for you, I can cancel. I’m sure I can come up with a good excuse–”

“It’s fine, Cheol,” you said through gritted teeth. “Let’s just go.” You turned to open the car door but Seungcheol grabbed your arm before you could.

“Hey,” he called, his voice filled with worry. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” you exhaled.

“I meant between us. If you don’t want me here, I’ll just go.”

You took his hand off your arm and forced a smile. “Everything is fine, Cheol. Let’s go have fun.”

Yoori and Seolhee had no idea that you’ve been trying to avoid Seungcheol, and that was obviously why they thought inviting him to your weekend camp trip was a good idea. In the car, Yoori explained that they ran into Seungcheol at the grocery store and invited him to join you on this trip, even quipping that you all could use a free ride.

The ride to the campsite was noisy, with both Yoori and Seolhee singing to the top of their lungs. At one point during the two-hour travel, you forgot about your issues with Seungcheol and managed to have fun with everyone. Seungcheol was mostly taken aback by the energy from you and the girls, but he seemed to have had his fun too. By the time you arrived at the campsite, you were all full with the food you bought at the rest stops. None of you were tired though because you immediately got to work on building tents and setting up your area.

Seungcheol was tasked to set up the barbecue table after you girls realized how much easier it was with a man around to do the lifting and assembling. When you were done with your tent, you approached Seungcheol by the bonfire with a bottle of water. He looked like he had run a mile, with his sweaty forehead and messed up hair. He even took off his jacket, revealing his muscular physique in his tight dri-fit shirt. Had he always been this hot? You knew he was handsome but did he have to be hot too?

You cleared your throat to prompt him so he immediately noticed your presence. Looking away because you couldn’t help staring at his arms, you handed him the bottle of water.

“Thanks,” he chimed, taking the bottle and opening it.

“Tables gave you a hard time?” you questioned, eyeing the table that was standing on crooked legs.

Seungcheol gulped down half the bottle and let out a big ‘ahh’ after. “I’ll admit, I’m not so confident with this kind of task.”

You scoffed, rounding the table to the crooked leg. “I can see that.”

“But hey, I did well with the chairs,” he beamed, pointing at the chairs. “Don’t you think so?”

He was gleaming with pride and you couldn’t help smiling at him. He’s so endearing and he’s not even trying. “Yeah, good job, Cheol.”

You showed him how to fix the table and you were amazed to find that he was eager to learn.

“Guys! You should get ready for the boat!” Yoori called after a few minutes. You waved your hand in response then turned to Seungcheol.

“I hope you brought a rashguard,” you told him.

Seungcheol tilted his head in ponder. “Well, Yoori said I should bring one so I did. But I still haven’t been told why.”

You scowled. “What do you mean? Did you come here without knowing what this trip is?”

Seungcheol shrugged and looked at the tents around. “It’s a camping trip.”

“My god, Mr. Choi Seungcheol,” you sniggered. “This is a wakepark.”

Of course, the campsite didn’t look like a wakepark. If it did, Seungcheol would have figured it out. But if one were to take a quick hike up the hill and descend on the other side, he willl find a massive lake there and a wakeboarding facility. Seungcheol was amazed when he saw it and uttered praises about the location and safety concerns.

“I don’t do much water sports,” he told you as you were queueing for the safety check.

“Have you tried wakeboarding before?” Seolhee asked.

Seungcheol had an exhilarated look on his face. “I haven’t. This will be my first time.”

“Oh, you’re gonna love it,” Seolhee lilted. “I was scared to do it at first, but it was really fun.”

Yoori scoffed. “Which is why this has become our favorite weekend activity.”

Your friends were first to be briefed and while you waited below the platform, Seungcheol leaned to your ear to ask, “Is this what you do for fun?”

You looked up at him at shrugged. “Not all the time, but I do like wakeboarding.”

“Hmm. You didn’t strike me as the type to like extreme sports.”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled. “First of all, this isn’t that extreme. Second, since when have you been making assumptions about me?”

“That will be from the moment I first met you,” he grinned.

“Is that so?” you teased. “How many times have I proven your assumptions wrong?”

“So far, you’ve only been proving me right,” he crooned, looking pleased. “Ah, right. Except today. I’m impressed.”

“Thanks,” you deadpanned. “Since you’re not so big on water sports, what do you do for fun?”

Seungcheol paused to think and then replied, “I go to shooting ranges with friends. Sometimes golfing. It depends on the company I have, really. I mostly just do what they want to do.”

“Like right now?”

He nodded. “Yes. Like right now.”

Seungcheol said this was his first time wakeboarding and it showed when he did it for the first time. But then several times later, he has shown proficiency on the sport. In no time, he’s wakeboarding on obstacles and doing it flawlessly. While you who’s not a first-timer would rather avoid obstacles.

“Whatever happened to the safety issues you were pointing out when we got here?” you taunted when he came back from his 17th time on the board. Was it 18th? Honestly, you’ve lost count already.

“Seolhee was right,” he reveled. “This is fun.”

“I know, Mr. Sportsman. But this is where the fun ends,” you announced, motioning to the sky and the setting sun on the horizon. “This place is closing.”

“So they said,” he replied, sighing. “We should come back here next time.”

Is he saying he wants to come back with you? He said ‘we’, didn’t he?

You shook your head to get rid of your intrusive thoughts. “Yeah. For now, let’s change and go back. We’re having barbecue.”

Seungcheol was talkative on your trek back to the campsite. He’s going on and on about how thrilling wakeboarding was and how he’d love to do it again. He was even describing the experience and the tricks he did and almost did. Listening to him was heartwarming, like talking to a child adorably blabbering about something he likes.

“I take it you don’t get this much thrill in your life?” you guessed, giving him a probing gaze.

“Absolutely not.”

“Then, I guess you need to have more adventurous friends.”

“I guess but…” he trailed off. You waited for him to finish his sentence, but he didn’t.

When you reach the campsite, your friends have got the fire going in the barbecue and they wave at you to join them. Seungcheol said he needs to put away his stuff first so you went ahead without him.

“He really kept going, huh?” Seolhee asked as you sat in front of the table. “Until closing time?”

“Yeah, he was like an energetic toddler,” you quipped, laughing fondly. “You should have seen how sad he was when it closed.”

“He’s so much older than us, but he’s so cute, isn’t he?” Yoori chimed before leaning close to you and nudging your elbow. “Also, you two look cute together.”

“Friends, Yoori,” you iterated. “We’re friends.”

“Whatever you say,” she teased so Seolhee scolded her. You stuck your tongue out at her, happy that Seolhee took your side.

“Hey,” Seungcheol prompted from behind you before sitting on the chair next to yours. “I just noticed we only have two tents.”

“Huh?” You glanced over your shoulders to where the tents were set up and saw that you did have two tents only. “Oh. Oh no.”

You looked at your friends and Yoori just shrugged and told Seungcheol, “I must have forgotten to tell you to bring one.”

“Well, we’re not gonna share a tent,” you told them in a matter-of-factly tone. “I mean, duh?”

“Of course. But where would Seungcheol-nim sleep?” Seolhee asked.

You looked at Seungcheol who seemed as lost as you were. Surely you can’t share a tent with your housemates either. Yoori and Seolhee like to get intimate whenever you come to this place. You don’t know why this place specifically and you’re definitely not curious enough to find out. BUT maybe they’ll reconsider just this once?

“I can just sleep with you–”

“No!” Yoori and Seolhee interjected simultaneously.

Yoori giggled shyly. “You two can share.” You were about to protest but she spoke over you. “You’ll be in sleeping bags. Just scoot far from each other. Your tent is big anyway.”

You looked sideways at Seungcheol who shrugged and then said, “I can sleep in the car.”

You nodded. “Or we can rent a tent. They must have one in the reception.”

“Reception is closed,” Seolhee said, sheepish.

You could swear your friends are purposely trying to get you and Seungcheol to sleep in one tent. But when you checked the reception area, it really was closed. Seungcheol can’t sleep in his car. It’s uncomfortable and you’d feel bad if he did. Had you known he’d be joining you, you would have planned the trip properly. Although you knew you would probably refuse to go if you knew he’d be here too.

Before you spend the entire night contemplating the matter, Yoori manages to convince you to share the tent. Between you and Seungcheol, you eventually end up agreeing that neither of you is uncomfortable and you are both willing to share the tent.

“The kimchi is amazing, Seolhee,” you told your friend.

“Thank you. We have plenty at the apartment,” she chimed.

You turned to Seungcheol. “Seolhee’s grandma owns a restaurant in their town. Her food is out of this world amazing.”

“Really? We should go there sometime.”

There he goes again with his ‘we’ declarations. It makes you hope that there really is something between you and he feels it too. But that’s just wishful thinking. He’s actively trying to get back with his ex, he shouldn’t be hanging out with you like this. And then again, maybe he’d rather hang out with you. Maybe he’s decided that he likes being here better than anywhere else. And maybe you’re overanalyzing things so much so that you’re starting to think delusional thoughts.

No. Delusions are things that aren’t real. His jacket that he wore on you because he was worried you’d be cold was real. His hand over the backrest of your chair was real. Your bodies leaning toward each other whenever you laugh was real. The jokes you had to whisper to each other because only the two of you would understand them were real. Seungcheol is very real. So maybe, just maybe, this was something worth overthinking about.

“Okay! The bottle has spoken and it picked you, y/n,” Yoori announced, pointing the tongs at you. “Truth or dare?”

The food has long been devoured and you’ve gone through bottles of alcohol already. Seolhee suggested you play a game of Truth or Dare, so here you are.

“Truth!” Seolhee shrieked, which was very unlike her but she was too inebriated to care.

“Do you…” Yoori began, standing up. “...like someone who’s here right now?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “I didn’t say Truth.”

“Dare it is then!” Yoori declared, clearing her throat. She wobbled a little but regained her balance after shaking her head. She looked at you and then at Seungcheol then back at you again. “I dare you to kiss the person you like here.”

“We agreed no kissing dares,” you told her calmly so she sat and pouted, sulking.

“You’re no fun.”

You laughed at her and glanced at Seungcheol who was laughing too, probably amused by your drunken girlfriends. He’s mostly quietly observing, laughing here and there, and responding only when he’s talked to. During the game, he would only pick Truths and answer questions close-ended. Still, he didn’t seem bored, if anything, he looked like he was having lots of fun.

“Ah, crap. We’re out,” Seolhee said after pouring beer into her glass only to find that it was empty. “Ah. Y/n, I dare you to go buy more beer.”

You scowled. “Seriously? Haven’t you had too much?”

“Not nearly enough, love,” Seolhee replied, shaking her head and then laughing. You looked at Seungcheol, wondering how he was reacting to this. He just shrugged.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Go!” Yoori scolded, drunkenly shooing you away.

“Yeah! Go!” Seolhee giggled and the two of them chanted happily. “More beer! More beer! More beer!”

You rose to you feet to leave and Seungcheol grabbed your wrist. “Wait, are you going down all by yourself?”

“No, dumbass,” you scoffed, grabbing his hand and pulling him up. “You’re coming with me.”

The convenience store was a little far from the campsite, about a ten-minute walk down. You and Seungcheol were talking as you went, laughing in between jokes. The cold autumn air of late September was chilly, but you’re warmed by his jacket over you. Your cheeks are hot too and you’re not sure if it was the alcohol or the proximity between you and Seungcheol as you marched down the sidewalk. Your shadows were on the road, separate but they fuse with the slight tilt of your head in his direction. Even that was making you giddy. Damn. It really must have been the alcohol.

You were still looking at your shadows when he said, “Look at the sky!”

“Where?” you asked, looking up at the sky only to find nothing but darkness up there. “There’s nothing there.”

“I didn’t say there’s anything up there,” he giggled and it was such a cute sound to hear. Alcohol loosened him up a bit and it had him giggling and laughing at the littlest things.

You gave him a deadpan expression. “Wow. Funny.”

He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again and looked at the sky. “Oh wow, I think it’s raining.”

As if on cue, the rain started pouring from the sky. You squealed when big raindrops fell on your head. Seungcheol took you by the wrist and you followed him running to a nearby waiting shed. Laughing, you both stumbled into the shed, patting down the rainwater on your clothes.

“Gosh, we should’ve just taken the car,” you blurted, peeking at the sky from under the roof.

“We had beer,” he replied, reaching to the top of your head to pat your hair back. “I don’t drink and drive.”

“But you’re not drunk.”

“I’m not irresponsible either,” he retorted, chortling at you. You were looking up at him, eyes gleaming.

“Wow, you’re very large.” Your comment came out of nowhere and even you was surprised you asked something like that.

Seungcheol flashed an affectionate scowl as he laughed. “Large?”

“Yeah, like you’re tall and your build is large,” you explained, shivering when the wind blew. “I knew you were bigger than me but I didn’t realize you were this big.”

Seungcheol chuckled. “Come here.” He tugged on your arm, pulling you in front of him so he could stand behind you. Then you felt his body pressing gently over you along with his pair of muscular arms wrapping around your waist.

Your heart skipped a beat before raging wildly in your chest. “Cheol?”

“Hmmh?” he inquired, placing his chin on the top of your head.

“What are you doing?” you asked, trying your best not to let your voice crack with nervousness.

“Helping with the cold,” he replied, taking a deep breath and then exhaling. “Damn, I think I had one too many beers.”

Seungcheol kept breathing in and out, steadying his breath as he fought against his tipsiness. You tilted your head back, urging him to get his chin off of your head. He did so and then leaned his forehead on your shoulder instead.

“You shouldn’t have drunk if you can’t hold your liquor,” you chided softly, almost in a whisper since his ear was close to your mouth.

“No, I can hold my liquor just fine. I just–” he paused to exhale and then continued– “I just need a second.”

The rain was loud against the roof and the wind was cold but your heart was warm; it was swelling with emotions, all leaning towards falling in love with Seungcheol. Surely you can’t do that, right? You’ve done well making sure you don’t fall for him even more, but now you’re back at one.

“Seungcheol?” you called softly, lifting your shoulder slightly to prompt him. “Hey.”

“Hmmh?” he responded, gently pushing you away when you moved to get him off your shoulder. “Sorry.”

You turned to face him, staring up at his sleepy expression. He beamed, eyes almost closed. It must have been the alcohol, or it could simply be the overwhelming emotions filling your heart to the brim. Maybe it’s his gentle smile and his eyes that are as beautiful as himself. Whatever it was, it made you take a step towards him, hold onto his arms, and then tip-toe so you could press your lips on his.

Seungcheol froze on the spot, eyes widening in surprise after your sudden action sobered him up. But it was only for a second. He kissed you back, holding your cheek so he could pull your face closer. Your grasp on his arms tightened as you tried to steady your body in your tiptoes. Seungcheol must have noticed you struggling to stand because he wrapped his other arm around your waist, keeping you in place.

A few seconds later, he exhaled sharply into the kiss and you could feel the temperature rising. It made you pull back, breaking the kiss. Seungcheol looked taken aback when you did.

You stuttered. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that.”

“Are you okay?” he asked and you nodded in response. Seeing that, Seungcheol leaned to kiss you again. The warmth emanating from his body, plus the delirious feeling of his lips on yours made you close your eyes, immersing yourself in the kiss once more.

This time, you parted when you were both ready, forehead pressed together as you catch your breath. Seungcheol’s eyes were closed, and you were staring right at him as the situation slowly sunk in. You took a step back, forcing him to let go.

“Choi Seungcheol,” you called out. Seungcheol looked at you, curiosity evident on his face. “You should probably stay away.”

“What?”

“You shouldn’t stay so close if you don’t plan on staying at all.”

The face Seungcheol made upon hearing that shot an arrow straight into your heart. For a second there, you had expected him to finally put a label on your relationship. But that doesn’t seem to be the case.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” he said, his voice apologetic and regretful, sending another surge of pain in your chest.

You were worried that you might cry, luckily, you didn’t. As you waited for the rain to stop, you both stood at the opposite ends of the waiting shed, not saying anything. The pitter-pattering of the rain kept you sane. When it finally stopped, you walked back up the hill, Seungcheol following closely behind. At the campsite, you found that Yoori and Seolhee have deserted the bonfire so you headed to your tent. Realizing that you were supposed to share it with Seungcheol, you mentally cursed yourself.

“Fuck it.”

You hid in your sleeping bag, facing the tent so you didn’t have to see Seungcheol or interact with him at all. But hours passed by, and you lay there with your eyes wide open, unable to sleep because of the thoughts floating in your head. Seungcheol didn’t enter the tent and several times you wondered where he was.

He’s probably in the car. He won’t possibly sleep outside, right? Right. And so you forced yourself to sleep, hoping the hours tick faster so you can go home and get over everything. When the first light peeked into the seams of the tent, you rose to your feet with a heavy body and an even heavier stride. The first thing you thought of was Seungcheol as if you hadn’t already been thinking about him all night. He was in his car, sleeping in the reclined driver’s seat. He must have been uncomfortable there.

Yoori and Seolhee are still asleep so you took it upon yourself to pack up your stuff. You packed the trash away and brought the dirty containers to the wash area so you could wash them. Halfway through, Seungcheol arrived.

“Do you need help with that?” he offered but instead of answering, you left the dishes half-done.

“Take care of it then,” you told him before walking away to take the trash to the recycling area. Yoori and Seolhee soon woke up and you all agreed to eat breakfast at the rest stop.

The silence between you and Seungcheol was the loudest in the car. You knew your friends noticed that, but they were nice enough not to pry. Instead, they minded their own business, flirting and being rowdy in the backseat among themselves. Several times they would prompt the two of you to let you in on what they were laughing about. Seungcheol would respond just to be polite, while you gave the most half-hearted reactions. When you arrived home, the girls thanked Sungcheol and hauled your stuff into the apartment.

As you were getting out of the car, Seungcheol tried talking to you. When you ignored him and went for the door, he grabbed your hand, squeezing it firmly.

“Please?”

You feel pathetic enough as it is, you don’t want to linger any longer. “There’s nothing to talk about, Cheol. It’s fine.”

“I just want to apologize, y/n. I overstepped.”

"It's okay. I should be the one apologizing. It was me who kissed you after all, so, I was the one who overstepped," you professed, not looking at him out of embarrassment.

"Don't be. I didn't mind it."

"Thanks," you muttered, getting ready to get out of the car. "This was fun. Thanks for everything."

Seungcheol’s face darkened with concern. "You mean the camping trip, right?"

"No, I meant all of this. Everything that we did, everything we shared, it had been fun and I would probably miss all of it but it shouldn't be that hard to forget," you replied, holding his gaze for the first time since that kiss. Seungcheol's mouth opened and then closed again. You felt even sadder, knowing he didn't want you the same way you wanted him. "Goodbye, Cheol."

"Wait, y/n," he called, so you stopped opening the car door. "Can't we be friends? We were good friends, right? I really enjoyed hanging out with you."

"I liked hanging out with you too but things will never be the same between us, Cheol and you know it." Seungcheol released your hand and you felt your heart shatter into tiny little pieces. Seeing how he's just letting you leave, you figured this was all your fault for falling for him when all he wanted from you was friendship.

He didn't even say goodbye when you left and as soon as you were inside the house, you broke down crying. Luckily, Yoori and Seolhee were there to comfort you, staying right next to you as you cried your heart out. It was ridiculous and you're telling yourself that you shouldn't even be sad about it. How can your heart break over something that was never about romance in the first place? To him, it may have not been about romance, but to you it was. He shouldn't have reeled you in like he did. You should have just ordered a takeout when you couldn't find a seat in that cafe. You shouldn't have joined him or eaten the donut. You shouldn't have met him at all.

"Imagine breaking up with someone you never dated? Couldn't be me," Seolhee jeered, getting a glare from Yoori.

"Hey, she's heartbroken enough as it is. Don't rub salt in the wound."

Seolhee just scoffed. "What did I tell her? I told her to make sure they were on the same page before she fell for his charm and all! Look at the mess he left her in!"

Yoori sighed, still holding you in her embrace. "To be fair, he did tell her he hasn't moved on from his ex and they're trying to fix it. So romance was obviously out of the table for him right now."

“Then why did he keep hanging out with her? He may have been clear about where his heart was but you and I, including him, know their coffee runs and all that meeting up are intimate enough to be called dates!"

"Seolhee, sweetheart, you can't hold him hostage for something he can't control. Yes, he's accountable for y/n's heartbreak. Yes, he got her hooked with his charming personality. And yes he was a jerk for still hanging out with another girl when he was trying to get back with his ex. But nowhere in the equation did he explicitly mention the possibility of dating y/n. He was nice and apparently, he liked talking to y/n. Our girl fell in love, he had no control over that."

"We kissed," you croaked, sniffling into the blanket.

"You what?" Seolhee asked, confused.

"Well, I kissed him, actually."

"And he kissed you back?" Seolhee interrogated so you nodded.

Yoori let go of you and stood with her arms over her chest. "I beg your fucking pardon?"

"Babe," Seolhee blurted, holding Yoori by the arm. "Calm down."

"I’m calm. But he… He's dead," Yoori attempted to go to the door but Seolhee managed to stop her.

Seungcheol sat on the table opposite Mina, absent-mindedly slicing his steak. His mind was elsewhere entirely, while Mina was rambling about her trip abroad. His lack of attention was unusual, even for himself, especially since he had been looking forward to this dinner ever since Mina's last concert. But why is he thinking about an entirely different girl from Mina, in an entirely different setting from this fancy hotel restaurant?

"Oppa," Mina prompted, taking notice of the steak that has now been reduced to tiny, uneven little pieces. Even the vegetables have been sliced the same way. "Are you alright? You seem spaced out."

Seungcheol heaved a deep sigh upon seeing the state of his food. "Yes, I'm fine. Just not hungry."

Mina pouted cutely. "You should have ordered a salad or something."

"You're right, I should have," Seungcheol grinned.

"You weren't listening to the waiter so I ordered your usual." Mina looked worried. "Are you sure you're okay? We could meet up some other time, you know."

"I am, Mina. I'm sorry if I'm not fun to be with right now."

Mina just nodded and continued eating. "So, as I was saying," she began, falling back into a long monologue about her latest trip abroad.

Seungcheol watched her speak, recognizing the delight in her voice and the way her cheeks lifted whenever she smiled, as well as the slight annoyance on her face when her story included something bad that happened there. He watched the woman he knew so well, trying to find the reason he was sitting here in the first place. Seungcheol knew it was love. He had loved Mina for so long and so much that he couldn't even look at other girls. Even when she broke up with him, he couldn't bring himself to move on and find someone else, someone better, someone who wouldn't do to him what Mina did. He waited for her to come back because she was all he wanted, the one he loved most. It was pathetic, but he didn't care. He told himself he could wait until she was ready, and he did just that, not listening to any of his friends or his self-respect. He loved Mira, and only Mira.

But why does he keep picturing you in your usual spot at The Coffeehouse, reading your books on a small tablet? Why does he keep imagining you rolling your eyes at his lame jokes and making him laugh with your witty remarks? Why does he still clearly remember how it felt kissing you in that waiting shed, with the sound of the rain draining the noises of his pounding heartbeat?

"Oppa," Mina prompted again, this time she looked annoyed.

"Yeah?"

"Are you even listening?"

"Yeah, no. I'm sorry. What was that?"

Mina huffed. "Nevermind. I'll tell you when your mind stops flying out to space."

Seungcheol was holding Mina's hand as they walked out of the restaurant, with her giggling about the good food and him nodding along. That's how it should be, the two of them hand-in-hand and together. That should make him happy because that was what he wanted. Still, he was struggling to find contentment. When he got home that night, he had to grab a can of beer in an attempt to help him fall asleep. His mind is still filled with thoughts of you, especially the part when you last saw each other.

He loves Mina, he knows that. But he felt like crap for hurting you. Seungcheol knows he's a jerk, alright. You were right, he shouldn't have stayed that long if he wasn't planning on staying at all. But he saw you as a friend, a good friend he can talk to comfortably without the pressure of being perfect. You made him laugh easily, made him drop his guard down without warning, and crept into his heart like it was only natural to do so. He knew this could happen at one point but after you found out he'd been trying to get back with Mina, you drew the line and told him you could be good friends without any expectations. He had been blind to see that you've already gone past being friends. Now he's losing his mind over you, replaying the kiss in his head and reliving the day he let go of your hand to never see you again. He's thinking about you but he can't erase Mina for someone he recently just met, regardless of how wonderful it was.

"Ah, fuck," he muttered, massaging the bridge of his nose in an attempt to alleviate his headache.

Seungcheol kept seeing Mina after that, and he was under the impression that they were back together already. She hung out with his mother a lot and discussions about marriage were being brought up but he was unenthusiastic about it all. He was too busy trying to get you out of his head, which he kept failing miserably because the effort only made him think about you more.

"What are you thinking about?" Mina asked, tracing lines on his chest.

"A lot of things."

"Can you stop thinking about them for now?"

"I don't know. I'm trying."

Mina propped herself up on her arms, smiling as she straddled Seungcheol again. "I could help," she grinned, grinding on his crotch.

"Mina, we literally just finished—" Seungcheol was cut off when Mina leaned to kiss his lips.

Right. This is what he wanted, to have Mina back in his arms again. This should feel right. Seungcheol decided to ignore the alarms ringing in his head as well as the weird feeling in his gut that he shouldn't be here at all.

"Mr. Landlord!" Mingyu greeted when Seungcheol walked into the cafe. "I haven't seen you in a while."

"I got busy," Seungcheol replied, smiling at the younger man behind the counter. "Everything good here?"

"Perfect," Mingyu smiled, turning to make Seungcheol's usual drink order. "Are you looking for y/n?"

Seungcheol realized he had been looking around the cafe and cleared his throat to shake off the shame of getting caught. "Has she been here at all?"

"Oh, she's here all the time."

"All the time?"

"Yes. She's here almost every day. I talked to her once and she said she's working on the final editing for her thesis."

Seungcheol nodded. "I suppose she is."

Mingyu glanced at the door when it opened. "There they are."

Seungcheol head has never spun that quickly; it hurt his neck a little. And seeing you walking inside the cafe with Jinwoo from one of your classes made him scowl.

"Oh," you blurted, stopping in your tracks as soon as you saw Seungcheol by the counter.

Seungcheol gave you a timid smile before Mingyu tapped on his shoulder to give him his order. "Right. Thanks."

He turned to you, smiling and then sighing. "Good to see you."

You just responded with a slight bow of your head and Seungcheol went on to find a vacant seat. He sank into the chair, taking his book out and covering his face as he scolded himself for the stupid line. You were standing right there, he could have asked to talk to you properly.

"'Good to see you'? Unbelievable," he muttered, shaking his head and putting his book back down. He would soon regret it because he could see you and the guy you were with laughing together from the window table, far from where he was. He couldn't help admiring your smile, realizing just how much he missed it. But his face darkened at the sight of the guy's arm resting on the back of your chair.

"Don't punch someone, Mr. Landlord."

Seungcheol jolted when he heard Mingyu's voice in his ear. The latter just laughed heartily, placing a plate with a donut in it right in front of Seungcheol.

"It's on the house. The owner saw you come in. She's probably hoping for a discount on the rent."

"Tell her thanks and that it's not gonna happen," Seungcheol jeered and Mingyu raised a hand on his forehead as a salute.

"Will do," he chimed, tucking the tray under his arm. "Oh, by the way, I think that guy likes y/n."

"How do you know that?"

Mingyu scoffed. "Everyone likes y/n. She's popular at school. They even have a title for her."

"What's the title?"

"Million Dollar Smile. She's the university sweetheart. I have friends from the school who are head over heels for her."

Seungcheol smiled absent-mindedly, repeating your title in his head. It suits you because you have a radiant smile that he now can't get out of his mind.

"The other day, he gave her flowers," Mingyu said, souring Seungcheol's mood. He saw the frown on Seungcheol's face and thought he didn't believe him. "It's true. I was here when he did it. I don't think y/n likes him though. She left the flowers on the table."

"Then why are they still together?"

Mingyu shrugged. "No clue."

Seungcheol sighed and hit Mingyu's abdomen. "Are you here to gossip? Don't you have work to do?"

"I just thought you'd like to hear updates about her," he complained, massaging the part where Seungcheol hit him. "Why are you so mad?"

Mingyu marched back to his post and Seungcheol went back to his book, trying to ignore your presence and failing because he ended up just stealing more glances. You didn't linger for long though, leaving the cafe with your friend after you were done with your coffee. Seungcheol could only get peace of mind then. Or so he thought. You came back alone and sat on the chair opposite of his.

"What's your deal?" you asked, looking annoyed.

"What do you mean?" Seungcheol asked back, trying to appear calm despite being surprised by your sudden appearance.

"You wanna talk to me, say it. Stop acting like a stalker."

"A stalker? I wasn't acting like a stalker," he denied, chuckling. "You were sitting within my line of sight. I can't be blamed for that. And I was here first. You have no case."

"Are being a lawyer on me right now?"

"No,” he replied briskly. “Yes, maybe."

You huffed, leaning on the backrest of the chair and crossing your arms over your chest. "Is everything alright with you?"

"Yes. Everything's fine," Seungcheol replied, smiling at your warmer attitude.

"You look…” you paused, shrugged, and added, “I don't know, different?"

"Different how?"

You shrugged. "You look like you haven't slept properly. You got thinner too and a little paler than usual. Were you sick?"

"Did it always feel this good to be cared about?" Seungcheol blurted out before he could think twice about it. He saw your brows twitching and felt nervous about what you were going to say next but you just looked away. "Don't mind me. What about you? How are you these days?"

You huffed. "If you're so curious then you should have texted me."

"You told me to leave you alone."

You glared at him. "No, I didn't."

"Pretty sure you did," Seungcheol smiled. "You just used different terms."

"And you were dissecting my words."

"Nothing much to dissect when it was staring me right in the face."

You huffed impatiently, standing up from your seat. "I didn't come here to get smart with you, so goodbye."

Seungcheol grabbed your hand. "Coffee? Won't you at least have a cup?"

"I just had one."

"Yeah, I saw that. Were you working on a project again with that guy? Jinwoo, was it?"

"Why do you care? I never asked you if you're back together with Mina."

Seungcheol's hand on your wrist twitched. You were right to ask that. Why does he even care? He has Mina. He shouldn't be acting like this anymore.

"Don't stop coming here just because I come here, Cheol. This was your favorite spot. I'm graduating anyway so I'm pretty sure I’ll stop being around much."

"No. I—" Seungcheol sighed, letting go of your hand. "Okay. It was nice seeing you again."

You gave him a small smile before walking away. Seungcheol sat there for the next hour, staring into nothing with muddled thoughts and a weird aching in his heart. He kept telling himself that he shouldn't have let your hand go for the third time around. But how stupid was he to think that?

It was only when his phone rang that he stood up and left. Mina called and asked to meet him. He drove down to a restaurant, wondering why Mina was inviting him out to another dinner. It was with their common friends this time and she was gushing about some really good news.

When he got there, Seungcheol was confused to see his girlfriend sitting next to a guy, smiling happily with her hands wrapped around his arms. She spotted Seungcheol and waved happily.

"Oppa! You made it!"

You recognized the guy as the pianist who always accompanied Mina on stage. He was smiling at him too with the same glow of happiness as Mina.

"Come join us! Everyone's here," Mina said, running up to Seungcheol to guide him to a vacant seat. But he didn't budge. "What's wrong?"

"What's this, Mina?" Sungcheol asked, sighing in frustration.

"My friends. They wanted to meet you."

Seungcheol sighed again, grabbing her by the wrist and walking out of the private restaurant. He stopped in a quiet hallway, looking at Mina with conviction.

"Are we doing this again, Mina?"

"What is?"

"Who was that guy?" he spat and Mina laughed incredulously.

"That's Hyungjae. My pianist."

"Your pianist?"

Mina shrugged. "We're kind of seeing each other but it's not serious."

"Mina you were with me just a few days ago. You were in my bed!"

"I know! And I loved that," she smiled, placing her hands on Seungcheol's chest. "I love you. You don't have to worry about Hyungjae. He's just temporary."

"Are you seriously doing this again? Am I supposed to turn a blind eye while you go sleep around with just anyone? And you asked me to come here so you could introduce me to your friends? What do you take me for, Mina?" Seungcheol grunted, swatting her hands away. "Do you see how messed up this is?"

"Oppa!"

"Let's stop this."

Mina’s face contorted with annoyance. "What do you mean? You can't say that!"

"Why not?”

She shook her head. “You can’t break up with me! Who do you think you are?”

Just like that, he’s had enough. Seungcheol walked away, completely ignoring Mina's nonstop calling. He found his car and drove a long way without an actual destination. But when he saw the Coffeehouse, he stopped right in front of it, sighing as he watched it from the side of the road. He wasn't expecting to see you there at all, smiling while talking to someone on the phone. He couldn't hear you but he was smiling along, content with the sight of your bright face.

Seungcheol was a fool. All this time, he had been blindly going in the wrong direction. He didn't want Mina because he still loved her, he wanted Mina because she was familiar. He had been chasing the empty shell of the love he used to have. He had been focusing too much on what he lost that he failed to acknowledge what he found. You. He found something really beautiful in you. He was realizing just now that he was in love with you after all. You were so graceful and pretty, like a breath of fresh air. He was enamored by you, not because you were alluring or sexy, but because you were smart and spoke kindly even when you were speaking carelessly. You were beautiful to look at, and even more breathtaking to listen to. Seungcheol was an idiot. He knows that now. He knows he would be an even bigger idiot if he let go of something as beautiful as this. But after hurting you, even though he never meant to, Seungcheol knew he couldn't just walk back into your life like he was welcome to do so anytime.

Your phone call ended and you chucked your device back in your bag. As you were turning to leave, Seungcheol panicked. Getting out of his car, he called out your name as loud as he could.

“What the–” you blurted, surprised to hear someone shouting your name. When you spotted Seungcheol walking towards you, you scowled. “Choi Seungcheol?”

“Hi,” he sputtered. He held your hand as soon as you were within his reach. “Can we talk?”

“Now? I’m kind of in the middle of something–”

“It won’t take long, I swear. I just need to tell you something.”

You glanced inside the cafe and then at Seungcheol. “What is it?”

“I’m sorry,” he confessed, almost out of breath. “I’m so sorry. Can we do this again? Let’s try again, can we?”

“Cheol, what do you mean? Where’s Mina? What happened?”

“She’s gone, y/n. It didn’t work.”

You retracted your hand from his hold, glaring at him as you stepped back. “Are you serious? Did you come here because it didn’t work out with Mina?”

“What? No!” he denied strongly, reaching for your hand again but you backed away.

“I don’t think we should be talking right now, Cheol,” you told him, genuinely concerned. “You don’t seem to be in the right headspace. You’re not even acting like yourself.”

You were right. He was rash and impulsive. This was unlike him at all. “I’m sorry.”

You were about to speak when a group of people walked out of the cafe laughing and chattering. Seungcheol recognized his uncle among the students.

“There you are, y/n. We’ve been waiting for you inside. What took you so long?” the Professor asked. Then he noticed Seungcheol there so his face glowed. “Seungcheol! I didn’t expect to run into you here!”

“Uncle,” he said meekly, eyeing you curiously. “I was just passing by.”

The elder man laughingly walked up to Seungcheol, giving him a pat on the shoulder before proudly saying, “This is Attorney Choi Seungcheol. He’s an alumna of our university. My dear nephew.”

A chorus of ‘Nice to meet you’s was heard from the group, to which Seungcheol replied with, “Good to meet you too.”

“How do you know y/n?” the professor asked Seungcheol who seemed to hesitate.

“He’s an acquaintance, Prof,” you replied curtly.

The elder nodded. “Very well then. You should join us for dinner. My students just passed an important exam so I’m treating them to dinner.”

You panicked. “I think Mr. Choi is busy–”

“I’d love to, uncle!” he chimed, grinning. “I brought my car. The rest of them can carpool with me.”

“Good. Good. Let’s go.”

The group proceeded with excited chatter while you lagged behind. Seungcheol hesitated to speak to you and as he was about to try, you shook your head to dissuade him.

At this point, Seungcheol is improvising–something he’s never done in his life before. He’s hoping that it’s worth it.

[To be continued in Part 2]

227 notes · View notes

seeingivy · 5 days

Text

sweet nothing

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting fic

previous part linked here

songs mentioned: minor mentions of slut by taylor swift, new year's day by taylor swift, end of beginning by djo, turning page by sleeping at last, sweet nothing by taylor swift, and must be love by laufey

It feels like every new piece of information that comes your way is overwhelming as the weeks fly by. And really, that sinking feeling that things are coming to an end only feels deeper, more final as the days dwindle down to the end.

Jean and Mikasa are getting married in two days. Your last day of filming together as a cast is in three. Lana and Sukuna are having another kid and you’re almost positive that Eren is in love with you.

You have two weeks together before you part ways.

Every second that the group of you spent together felt like the moments were only slipping out of your fingers, like you were hopelessly trying to hold onto a needle in a stack of hay. It was almost impulsive the way you were trying to linger around everyone – to memorize every last detail of the memories so that you can’t forget them when they leave.

Falco and Gabi eat cereal in the morning before they go to set, Levi has a mole near his left eye, Eren loses all of his guitar picks.

You shuffle through the stack of polaroids in your hand – an endless stack of pictures of Miaksa and Jean – and get more frustrated looking down at the empty page on your notebook. Eren’s handwriting is perfectly lined up at the top, light scribbles of lyrics and words he’s changed for the song you were gifting Jean.

I spy with my little tired eye Tiny as a firefly A pebble that we picked up last July Down deep inside your pocket We almost forgot it Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?

Eren explained that Jean and Mikasa, after getting engaged (for the second time), took a two month trip where they just traveled together. Most of the pictures are from that time period actually – of Jean and Mikasa drunk in random bars, cheesing in front of billowing green hills, or napping on picnic blankets.

You look up at the two of them, clearly relieving some wedding stress by getting tipsy, and dancing with Falco and Gabi a few feet away. You can’t help but smile as Mikasa teaches Falco how to dance – and how he profusely apologizes every time he steps on her feet. It’s almost as sweet as Gabi and Jean who are trying to do the most aggressive slow dance known to man and that neither of them seem to be taking seriously in the slightest.

“Who’s getting injured first?”

You look to your right to find Eren hovering over your shoulder, his hair damp from the shower and the sweet smell of his soap still emanating off of his skin. He gives you a boyish grin before taking the seat next to you on the couch, leaning his chin on your shoulder as you watch the group of them.

“I’m sure Mikasa needs a bandaid already. Falco has stepped on her feet ten times already.”

“Poor guy. I’ve never seen him stress out over something so bad.” Eren states.

“What do you mean?”

Eren laughs.

“He’s freaking out about the wedding. He’s really worried that Gabi won’t enjoy it with him as her date – because he can’t dance and that sometimes he can’t think of things to talk about when he gets nervous.”

You frown.

“Baby.”

“Tell me about it. Last night he was in my room asking my opinions on pick up lines and how you even initiate dancing with someone.” Eren states.

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him that he should suggest getting matching tattoos. I know girls love that type of thing.”

You turn your head to glare at him.

“I know you didn’t encourage my sixteen year old brother to get a tattoo.”

Eren shrugs.

“What’s the difference between sixteen and eighteen? He’s a big kid.”

“He would get a tattoo of a cat jumping on a trampoline if he could. And that’s horrible advice.”

Eren grins.

“Worked on you, didn’t it?”

You shove him in the side, earning you a laugh from him, as he takes the opportunity to peek down at the page – mainly at the fact that you haven't been able to write anything. You sink back into the couch as he offers you a smile, before flipping through the rest of the pages.

“I have a question.”

“What is it?”

“Are you ever going to release any of these songs? I really think some of them are great.”

You lean over his shoulder to follow his line of vision, to all of the songs that you had produced out of the requests that you had been given. You eye the song he’s fixated on – called Slut, that you wrote for Sasha – as you shrug.

“I do really like some of them.” you offer.

“I really love this one. I think it’s perfect. And a lot of them are.” Eren adds.

You lean back on the couch.

“I know that…things are ending. And I have to think seriously about what I want to do after I leave here but sometimes it gets complicated when I think about it. But I am sure that...that I'll do something. In some capacity.” you state.

Eren leans back to join you, leaning his damp locks against your shoulder. You mimic his motions, leaning your cheek against his hair and welcoming the cold touch.

“I like being here and…and being here makes the songs and the acting really easy. I feel like I have that support system, of people who care about me, who can kind of help me push through it. The thought of having to figure out things without people helping me when I leave here and…and not having that makes it seem impossible.” you state.

“You don’t need other people to –”

“I know I don’t need other people to do this, that I can write songs and act if I need to. But, I need them for me. I’ve spent a lot of time alone and I realized I don’t want to do that anymore. I want to be here forever, I’ve…I feel like I barely appreciated the time I had here and now it’s almost over and I can’t do anything about it.”

It’s horrible timing. That the song in Connie’s playlist switches.

There's glitter on the floor after the party Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor You and me from the night before, but

You both sink deeper into the couch, cheeks pink as the song stops the conversation in full. You can feel that the group of them are all averting their eyes to where you and Eren are sitting, though none of them seem to comment on the fact that your love ballad is booming from the speakers. You turn to Eren and offer him a smile, one that he returns before nervously fiddling with his hair.

“You still have time left here. You can make the most of it. And even after we leave here, we’re all still backing you up. It might not be all of us all in the same place but…but we’re here when you need us.” Eren states.

“Yeah. I know that. But it’s just different.”

You pause, unable to put the garbled mess of feelings that’s rumbling in your chest into words.

Three days ago Levi told you that they were going to put the house up for sale when you were leaving – and the thought of never being able to come back here, that someone else would be sleeping in your room and you’d never be able to return to it made you sick to your stomach.

You had read the last bits of the script and it was perfect – except for the blank portions that Levi left in one of the sections. He had mentioned that he wanted you and Eren to do something similar to what you were going to do for the “what am I to you scene?” where he was going to ask you to improv whatever he had planned.

There was a sense of urgency when he mentioned it, because that was actually going to end up being the last scene that you ever filmed. Because Mikasa and Jean were going to get married on Friday, the last day of filming with the entire ensemble was Saturday, and they were all out of there by Sunday night.

And for the entire week that followed, you, Levi, Hange, and Eren were going to be in the house alone. Hange mentioned it as a sort of gift that Levi wanted to give you – that he wanted to grant the two of you time alone before you parted your separate ways.

(Apparently he was just sentimental. Or projecting, according to Hange. And part of it was just that he understood because when he had his last weekend of filming La La Land with Hange, he just wanted them all to himself before he had to let them go. That he wanted that for you and Eren or just for himself instead.)

The thought of being alone with Eren in the house, the way you were when you started filming all those years ago, made your stomach churn with anticipation. Only because you knew – that if something was going to blossom between you and Eren, if you were able to let go of whatever it was that was holding either of you back – it was going to be then.

Or at the wedding.

You had visited the venue with Eren a few days prior and the outdoor, woodsy venue that Jean and Mikasa had picked out was eerily similar to where Levi and Hange had their vow renewal. They were leaning into the same energy – of a backyard wedding, with all of their closest friends – and you were half convinced that the setting alone would have you word vomiting everything to Eren.

Don't read the last page But I stay when it's hard, or it's wrong, or we're making mistakes I want your midnights But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day

Eren reaches forward, placing his hand on top of your head, before he slightly rattles your head.

“Okay, that’s enough being emo for today. Quit being sad and focus on writing the song. Jean is expecting something really great, you know?”

You groan.

“Don’t tell me that. I hyped it up so much to him just because he was being annoying but I’m really scared that he won’t like it. Every lyric I write is so ridiculously idiotic that I end up wanting to throw my entire book away.”

“You’re trying too hard. Just do what feels natural.”

You’re not sure why the thought crosses your mind, but right after it does it fills you with a bout of embarrassment. Because if you did what was natural, you’d lean forward and close the space between the two of you, only because you couldn’t help but feel like you were getting intoxicated by how much you wanted him every time you were alone like this.

But that was just the thing. You weren’t alone. There were at least seven different people in the room. And the fact that it felt so intimate, so bare every time you talked to him like you were the only two people in the room made it impossible to be around him.

Levi walks into the room with Hange, the two of them juggling cardboard boxes in their hands. Levi nearly drops all of them when Gabi and Jean almost salsa dance straight into him, but luckily enough, Niccolo is able to steer them in a different direction before they can.

Hange and Levi set the boxes down at the center table, before gesturing for all of you to join them around the table. Eren holds a hand out to you – and it makes your stomach churn when he doesn’t let go as you both walk all the way to the table.

You can’t help but focus on it. That you’re all circled around the table, that Niccolo is handing Sasha his water bottle, that Falco and Gabi are out of breath, and that Eren has his hand tucked into yours as he intently waits for Levi and Hange to explain.

“As you guys all know, we’re going to be giving up the house in around a week. I know it feels a little early, but we need to start making preparations since things are going to start wrapping up really fast.” Levi states.

“And this part is only logical. You guys were the ones who put the polaroids up. It’s only fair that you’re the ones who are going to take them down.” Hange adds.

You feel your throat dry.

“What?” Armin asks.

“We can’t exactly leave them all up. Imagine how horrifying that would be for whoever moved in here after – just thousands of pictures of strangers that they didn’t know.” Levi states.

“They would be so lucky. We’re literally famous.” Connie huffs.

“Okay, Connie. Relax. Even then, I figured that you guys would want to keep some as you guys got ready to leave here. We can toss whatever it is you don’t want to keep.” Hange resopnds.

It just keeps getting worse. You can’t even stomach the fact that they would even consider throwing any of the pictures away, let alone being so ready to pull them all off of their respective spots on the wall.

“Are you insane? You can’t just throw our childhood away.” Reiner states.

“Well, you can keep all of the stragglers. Drown in the polaroids in your penthouse apartment, Reiner.” Levi deadpans.

“Oh, I plan on it.” Reiner responds, glaring at the two of them.

You can tell that Levi and Hange were well prepared for the pushback. And you understand the frustrations, or at least the panic, everyone seems to be expressing. Armin’s trying to delay whatever this is to the best of his abilities – saying that the wedding pictures would be perfect with all of the polaroids in the background. Reiner said that taking everything down was only fair when Eren got to be a part of the death wall, and Sasha and Mikasa are already fighting over how they’re supposed to divvy up polaroids that we’re all in.

And you get it, but all it does is fill you with the sinking pit of despair.

This was the start. Taking all of the pictures down, wrapping your childhood into a little cardboard box and never returning to it again – at least not in the same way.

The song from the playlist switches, finally mellowing out the ends of your voice, before changing to a different song.

Levi’s ears immediately perk up at the sound of his own voice, booming through the speakers.

Just one more tear to cry One teardrop from my eye You better save it for The middle of the night

When things aren't black and white Enter, Troubadour Remember twenty-four?

And when I'm back in Chicago, I feel it Another version of me, I was in it I wave goodbye to the end of beginning

“Who is playing this?” Levi asks.

“Connie.” Eren offers.

Levi shakes his head, almost like it’s thrown him a distraction, before he hands each of you the boxes and a marker. You all start begrudgingly inking your name into the cardboard, before halfheartedly clutching it to your chests. A few of them make the first move, until it’s just you and Armin left lingering in the kitchen, unable to move.

“Jesus fuck, Hange. Why would he play this song?” Levi whispers, stuck in a conversation under his breath with Hange.

“The timing is uncanny. Don’t go crying on them now.” Hange states.

The two of them shuffle out of the room as you turn to Armin, noting the warm tears that are filling his eyes, as you offer him one of your hands. He opts to link his hand through yours, as you both task yourself with walking over to the fridge first, as you stare at all six of the polaroids stuck under the magnet.

“I really don’t want to do this.” Armin whispers.

“Me neither.”

He snags the first polaroid off of the fridge, of Erwin wearing a sparkly pink apron with Kiss the Chef embroidered into the front pocket. You distinctly remember when Eren had gifted it to Erwin for his birthday – and how he refused to stand in the kitchen without wearing it, even if he wasn’t cooking anything.

“This picture doesn’t belong anywhere but here.” Armin states.

You snort. You can see that Armin hesitates, but he settles for putting it in the box.

“We’ll make a pile on the main table, of who is in each picture. Then…then people can fight it out for who gets to keep which one.”

“Good idea.”

It’s quiet, leave for Levi’s voice booming through the speakers, as you and Armin start yanking the pictures off of the wall. The wallpaper has been fading for years, but it’s only more obvious when you start ripping the pictures out to see the brighter color that was covered underneath.

Armin stops you every few seconds, only to pull on your arm to show you a picture. It’s quiet smiles that you give each other, when you find one of him and Annie, or he gives you one of Hange, and it makes it the slightest bit easier.

But some of the memories hit you like a bullet train, only because you can’t fathom how much of them you’ve actually forgotten. You only remembered that Falco and Colt had actually been to set before, years before they were even on the show, when Eren flew them out to surprise you for your birthday. Or that on that same day, Mikasa and Armin were the ones to gift you the first notebook that you had ever scribbled your lyrics in.

They were so deeply intertwined in the memories – every single one. You suppose that’s probably why it was the hardest to let go, to walk away from all of them and limit them to just being pictures in a box.

And when I'm back in Chicago, I feel it Another version of me, I was in it I wave goodbye to the end of beginning (Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye)

“Armin.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever think about that night? In Seattle?” you ask.

He pauses, abandoning the polaroid fixed in his fingers – of you and Historia cheek to cheek – as he sinks against the wall and sits on the floor. You join him on the ground, looping in your arm through his, as you lean your head against his shoulder.

“Sometimes.”

“Me too.”

“I try to pinpoint moments where it feels like things changed. And there are lots of them, but I do find myself always going back to that one. Things felt so weird and out of line in the months before that, I felt like we were all moving in different directions, and that really solidified it.” Armin states.

You pause.

“Yeah, yeah I agree. Sometimes I wish I could go back and change things. But I also don’t.”

“What do you mean?” Armin asks.

“My first instinct when Eren and I started fighting was to ask him to tell the truth, to come with us and that we’d fix everything. Knowing what I know now, I wish that I had fought harder – that I trusted my gut more because I could clearly feel that something was wrong. But I also don’t, because sometimes I think the way things played out is how it needed to be, for me to feel how I am right now.” you state.

“How do you feel now?”

You pause.

“I remember when we took Connie home with us and…and he started screaming at us. I felt really hopeless. I feel like watching him act like that, to be struggling so much, really sank me into that pit I was in. But I guess, I don’t know. Maybe I needed to see that and how he is now, to see how Sukuna was and how he is now, and Lana too to know that maybe there’s some way out of it for me too after I leave here.” you state.

Armin smiles.

“I’m really happy for Lana and Sukuna.”

You grin.

“I’m really happy for Connie too. And Eren and…and us too. So much has happened that I really can't even wrap my mind around everything that has happened, but sometimes all I’m left with is that I feel really grateful that we’re all here right now. Especially you and me. Sometimes I forget that you and I faced the worst of it together and…and that we’re here right now, the way that we are, just kind of…fixes it all in my mind.”

“I agree. I feel like we saw the worst of it together, maybe acted at our worst together too, but it makes me feel better that we both came out of it the way that we did. I feel like we never learn and even though we burn bridges, we still ended up doing what was right at the end of the day.” Armin adds.

Armin smiles, as he pushes up off the ground and holds out his hand to you. He pulls you up, averting his eyes to behind you, before you turn to find Annie and Eren standing behind. He gives you a knowing look before he switches places with Eren – and the two of them stalk off together.

Eren gives you a smile, before aggressively sticking a polaroid in your face. You’re caught off guard by the suddenness, before you focus on the picture. It’s of you and Eren on the last day of filming Season Three – your arms wrapped around his neck as you both smile in the camera.

“Yours or mine?” he asks.

“Mine.”

“Well, you should get a move on. I’ve already stolen whatever pictures there were on the wall near the bay window.”

“No debate? No negotiating?” you ask.

“Absolutely not. You snooze, you lose.”

You and Eren fall into a quiet pace, the same way you were with Armin. It seems like it’s something everyone was adapting, because the house felt quieter as usual as you all pulled the memories off of the walls.

He’d stop here and there and place a polaroid into the palm of your hand. It was getting almost overwhelmingly nostalgic, making that melancholy that seemed to reside in your chest almost impossible to breathe through.

It was like watching yourself fall in love with Eren all over again.

Because all you can think about is the fact that you had really liked Eren at that award’s show, that you went on a date before that press event, that filming that scene was really fun because you had spent the entire day together.

That you used to sleep in the same bed every night, that you made breakfast together every morning, that the safe confines of this little wooden house was the place that you and Eren got to be yourselves, where your love was saved from being touched and garbled by other people.

“Eren.”

“Yeah?”

“What are you going to do with the pictures?” you ask.

Eren pauses, eyeing the messy mess of pictures in his box, before he looks back up at you.

“I’m staying at this place by the sea, in Ireland, for a few months after the show ends. It’s my parent’s cabin, but I just want to go there and take a break before I jump into anything again. I’ll put some of the pictures up there.” he states.

You nod.

You’re not sure why you ask the question, and it’s almost instant embarrassment when it comes out, but you have to stick with it after you do.

“Will you tell other girls about who I am?”

“What?”

You bite your tongue.

“I just mean. If people point to the pictures and stuff, you’ll tell them about us, right? All the pretty girls you’re going to take to your fancy cabin?” you joke.

Eren seems to visibly relax when he figures that this has to be some weird idea of a joke that you’re making.

“Oh. Yeah, of course. Trust me, when I take my children to that cabin, I’ll make sure they know the entire story before they leave.”

You smile.

“And what’s that?”

“Oh, you know. That it was a moment in time, what you and I had. That people went crazy for it, that…that you and I did too.” Eren states.

“Who said I went crazy for it?”

Eren rolls his eyes.

“You have not one, but two matching tattoos with me. We’ve written so many songs about each other, that people still listen to.”

“I was just teasing. Relax.”

Eren hands you a polaroid – a solo picture that he had taken of you at Hange and Levi’s vow renewal – that you tuck into your box. The walls are bare and empty as you peek your head through the other rooms. And you all group back together in the main room, boxes filled on the ground as you find too many of them locking their limbs together and swaying together in the air.

You and Eren smile at each other as Reiner catches sight of you and makes a dramatic display of wrapping both of his arms around you. Jean and Mikasa follow next – somehow producing shots for everyone out of thin air.

The only notable thing that stands out is that Connie’s standing by the far wall, stuck staring at the wallpaper. Normally, you’d expect him to be at the center of this, making some extreme, dramatic speech on top of the table about how we were all going down in history.

You tangle out of Mikasa’s embrace to walk up next to him, only to feel your stomach churn when you find exactly what it is that Connie’s staring at. Because it’s not a blank patch of wallpaper – but instead, his shitty spelling marked into the wall, accompanied by the one polaroid you had seemingly forgotten all about.

Of Marco, his tub of ice cream, and his bright smile when you had all inducted him as the start of the death wall. You look to your left to find Connie crying, as you lean your head against his shoulder, unable to stop your own.

“I can’t take it down. He…he’s going to miss the wedding.” he whispers.

It makes your stomach ache. That Marco won’t be there to see Jean and Mikasa get married, that he won't be at the wrap party, and that someone will have to come over here and rip him off of the wall for good.

“I can’t do it either.”

Eren’s the next to join the two of you, his arms warm around your shoulders, before you feel him physically tense at your side when he realizes. The crowd only seems to get bigger, until the entire group of you are standing there, limbs tangled in together as you all stare at the picture of him.

Levi and Hange, who are the last to join, are the first to break the silence.

“No one can do it, can they?” Hange asks.

You all shake your heads. Levi makes his way to the front – and you can’t help but study him as you watch him observe the picture.

It was no secret to you that Levi had a soft spot for Marco, that it only intensified after he died, and that it was something that Levi was going to beat himself over forever.

You think about it often – that one time that Levi insinuated that what happened could be traced back to him, because Marco’s fame could be traced back to when Levi had cast him in the show. That if Levi didn't make Marco famous, the paparazzi would have called the ambulance instead of prioritizing the photo.

When he reaches for the picture, you realize that you can’t let him do it alone.

You walk up to his side and pull on his arm.

“Together.” you state.

Levi gives you wide eyes, heaving a deep sign out, before he nods. You turn back to the crowd of them standing, as you gesture for them to join.

You all place your hands on each other, making it literally impossible for you to all stand there as you try to jump and duck under each other to secure your hands on the picture. It’s all giggles because Connie asks Reiner not to touch his butt and they start bickering before you all pull.

But on the count of three, you all pull it off of the wallpaper, before letting go. It’s left in Levi’s hands at the end of it.

You all let him keep it. He shoots you a grateful smile for the assistance.

The air is palpable the morning of the wedding. You can feel it thrumming under your skin – the anticipation – the second you spring your eyes open. It reminded you of how you used to sleep the night before a field trip, unable to contain your excitement to the point where you were unable to quiet your mind before sleeping.

You nearly shoot up because of it, unable to stop staring at Mikasa at your side. Her hair is tousled around the pillow, the sleep mask that she put on last night sticking to the side of her face, and she’s snoring horrendously loud.

In your excitement, you lean forward and press a kiss to her forehead.

“Jean?”

You snort.

“No. Don’t insult me in the early hours of the morning.” you state.

Your voice is enough to wake Mikasa up, and similarly enough to you, she shoots up the second she’s regained consciousness. The green mask is falling off the right side of her face and her eyes are so horrendously wide that she almost looks like an alien.

“Holy shit. “

“What?”

“I’m getting married today.”

You can’t help but smile from ear to ear as you wrap your arms around her neck and squeeze hard. It’s a mix of giggles, of the two of you squealing like you were fifteen again, and of you and Mikasa tickling each other in your hug.

The morning goes by relatively slowly.

Whatever that feeling is, the warm, sweetness in the air – it’s hanging in the air. The group of you are all holed up in Mikasa’s room – Gabi, Falco, Connie, Historia, Armin, and Sasha. The rest of them were all stuck with Jean. You can already anticipate that there’s more panic and high energy in that room just from the sheer fact of Ymir being stuck with Reiner, Eren, and Jean in there alone.

You were all in charge of getting Mikasa ready, of getting dressed yourselves, and getting her to the venue. They had to do the same with Jean – but you and Eren had to be there before to pass out the corsages and pin the boutonnieres.

There was a slight panic in the background, but the calmness was making it taper into almost nothing. And really, the entire ordeal felt so homey, so ordinary that you couldn’t help but find yourself smiling as you all went about it, because you had been thinking – planning for it – for so long.

Connie and Sasha tasked themselves with making iced coffee, Falco and Gabi had spent twenty minutes tracking down the Doordash order with the breakfast, and you were left alone to do Mikasa’s hair.

It was just the two of you, humming in the bathroom to the quiet little playlist Jean had sent Mikasa as a gift this morning, as you quietly tasked yourself with doing her hair. It was relatively simple, just two braids at the front to tuck behind her ears, with little flowers intertwined in between. The veil was going to take up most of the space in the back, so you were just curling the ends for her.

It’s quiet until you can hear her sniffling, only to look up in the mirror to her trying to blot her tears away from her eyes. You try to focus on the song that’s playing – only to find that Jean had put invisible string in the playlist – and you can’t help but smile. You pause, placing your hands on her shoulders as you squeeze hard.

“Oh god. Are you getting cold feet because he’s ugly?” you joke.

She glares at you.

“Fuck off.”

You laugh before tucking wrapping your arms around her waist and leaning your chin on her shoulder. She gives you a smile in the mirror – one that you return – as she finishes wiping her tears away.

“Now really. What is it? You can’t be sad on your wedding day or else I’ve failed as a maid of honor.”

She shakes her head.

“Not sad. Just…I don’t know. I was reflecting. Feeling really introspective about a lot of things and I realized that there was a point that I thought this would never happen for me. And god, I’m so fucking happy it is.” Mikasa states.

“This meaning…?”

“You. Braiding my hair for my wedding. Jean. Actually marrying me after everything that happened. Getting to leave here with him.”

You swallow hard. She turns around, placing her hands on your shoulder. You distract yourself by messing with how the ends of her bangs were falling, brushing them into place before you give her a smile.

“Thanks for coming back. I would never want to do this without you.” she states.

“Thanks for letting me. It would be agonizing to watch this from the sidelines.”

She leans forward and hugs you, so hard that she’s leaning her entire weight on you. And every inclination that you made of letting go gets ignored, because Mikasa holds on to you for a long time.

“You’re my best friend.” she mumbles.

You can feel the tears accumulating in your own eyes, the sniffling coming from your nose this time, as you hear Mikasa spare a quiet laugh.

“Seriously?”

“I just started getting all fucking…introspective like you were. I’ve spent my entire life here, my entire childhood sleeping next to you and when I wasn’t, it was because Jean was in here. And now you’re getting married to him and I’m going to be right next to you when it happens, and I just…”

You pause.

“I don’t remember when we grew up. I’m glad I got to do it with the both of you.” you finish.

You try to etch it into your memory – this moment – so you can remember it forever. The two of you in your pajamas, barefoot on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, breathing in tandem as you held each other while crying.

She was hours away from being a wife. You were about to watch Jean and Mikasa get the perfect ending, that the nights that they spent together in your room all led to the two of them standing on that altar, exchanging vows. You would be two feet away from Eren, who was going to smile at you with his perfect green eyes and make your stomach do a somersault.

You were going to hold hands, he was going to dance with you, and that might be the end of it. Or the start, if you’re both able to muster and get over that block that was always stuck in your throats.

Connie and Sasha return with the coffee soon enough and Falco and Gabi with the food. You all sit in a circle, sharing bites and switching drinks, until Sasha locks herself and Mikasa in the bathroom to do her makeup and fit her into her dress.

You take the free second to sit at the vanity, using the sweet free time to style Falco’s hair for him before you do your own makeup. You can see Connie brushing Gabi’s hair through the mirror, intently focused as he holds the bobbi pins in between his lips, and gathers her hair together at the back of her neck. You can’t help but smile as you focus back on Falco, trying to tame the unruliness of his hair with the mousse.

“Be careful with Eren’s cufflinks today, Falco. He’s expecting those back.” you state.

“No, he isn’t. He gave them to me earlier and he actually said that he wants me to keep them.”

It makes your heart sink a little – only because you don’t know what it means. If he was giving it up to Falco out of good will because he was your little brother and he loved him or because he wanted to get them straight off of his hands since you two were going to be leaving and parting ways soon.

“Well, be careful. They’re very nice. And they’re special too, so just. Take care.” you state.

Falco frowns at you through the mirror, before turning back to look at you.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You seem sad.”

“No. I just feel really sentimental. My best friend is getting married and we…we’re all going to be leaving soon. I’m watching two people who have been in love forever seal the deal before I won’t ever live with them ever again.”

Falco frowns, before he reaches forward and wraps his arms around you. You can’t help but smile as you bury your nose into his shirt, breathing in the scent of his shampoo and laundry detergent mixed together.

“You’ll have a lot of fun today. You’ll have Eren with you. And you’re performing your song, which will be amazing. Levi also told me that you have to save a dance from him and Connie said he’s going to mix drinks after the reception, so you have a lot to look forward to.”

You glare at him.

“The only thing you’re mixing is soda, Falco.”

He gives you a grin.

“Right!”

“I’m going to tell mom.”

He glares.

“Don’t be a narc. I was trying to be nice to you.”

“You’re going to get liver disease, Falco.”

“Gabi and I have never tried it. We just wanted to do it together.”

You pinch your lips together, before shaking your head.

“I’ll just pretend like I didn’t hear that.”

You watch as Falco’s eyes light up, before he presses a wet kiss to your cheek. You push him off, as you finish the last touches on his hair, and lean down to press a kiss to the top of his head.

Falco runs off, mainly to Gabi’s side as he starts admiring her hair and she does the same to him. And as you quietly start smearing the makeup on your face, Connie takes the seat at your side at the vanity.

It’s quiet. Mainly because he’s messing with the ends of his own hair and you’re focused on smearing the glitter on your eyelids that you don’t really acknowledge each other. You only break the concentration – and start the conversation – as Connie watches you struggle with your necklace.

“Yikes. Want help?”

You smile.

“Yeah. Yeah, thanks.” you state.

You hand the necklace over to him – and watch the smile spread across his face as he eyes the little Saturn charm – before he signals for you to turn around. The necklace falls perfectly into place before you turn back to him and silently thank him.

“Eren’s wearing his pin too.” Connie states.

“He is?”

“Well, planning on it. I saw him walking around with it downstairs when we were making the coffee.”

You hum in response, as you place the blush on your cheeks.

“How did he seem? Is he stressed out?”

“No. He’s pretty zen, considering how batshit he was acting last night when you were running through the checklist.”

You smile.

“I just think he’s excited for the wedding. You know how much he loves Jean and Mikasa.” you state.

Connie smiles at you through the mirror, before leaning his cheek in the palm of his hand. It’s a weirdly antagonistic look that he gives you, that you ignore as you rummage through the colors of your lip glosses and lipsticks to find the perfect one.

“I know how much he loves you.”

You give him a weary look.

“You kissed three times. He smiled into the kiss. You used your tongue. We’re not about to play this shitty game.” Connie states.

“I didn’t say anything.” you state.

Connie smiles and really, the fact that he was rooting for the two of you so hard, that he approved, only made your excitement to see him later grow tenfold.

“So you know that he loves you?” Connie asks.

You swallow hard, before shaking the thought away.

“Well, of course he does. We’re good friends.”

Connie gives you a glare and it makes you fold.

“Just…don’t tell him, okay?”

“I won’t. But you…you do know, right?”

You sigh.

“Yeah. I’m just stuck on how to tell him, when the right time is, if…if he really wants to. I know that he loves me but that…that doesn’t necessarily mean that he wants to give our relationship another try.”

Connie frowns.

“He doesn’t know that’s on the table.” Connie states.

“What do you mean?”

“You know he loves you. He has no idea that you love him too.”

“There’s no way. It’s…it’s obvious. I’ve given him so many signs.”

Connie shrugs.

“Yeah. But he’s insecure. His mind plays tricks on him…and he won’t believe it unless you tell him, explicitly. Some days he says that he thinks you reciprocate and in the next hour, he’s moping in my room about how he’s lost you forever.”

You deflate and give him a nod, as you secure your hands around one of your tubes of lipstick. Connie shakes his head, before taking it from you and digging through the little pouch himself.

“No, you can’t wear that.” Connie states.

“I didn’t realize you were so opinionated about the makeup I wore.”

“No. Well, yes. But no, no Eren likes it when you wear glossy stuff on your lips.”

“Why do you know that?”

“He’s down horrendous.” Connie affirms.

“I’m not picking my makeup look based off of Eren.”

Connie pauses and gives you a look. You sigh.

“Okay, fine. Give it.”

He gives you a bright smile, before handing it over to you. And you smear it over your lips, before taking the open room on the left so slip in your dress and meet Eren downstairs.

You slip into your dress before you meet Eren downstairs, to make sure that everyone gets tucked into the correct cars, with flowers pinned to their jackets and secured around their wrists. You carry the pair of shoes you had chosen – black kitten heels to save your feet from the walking – as you make your way down the stairs.

You can already see Eren standing in the kitchen, placing the boxes in a line, as you feel the nervousness prickle all over your skin. His hair is pushed back, tucked behind his ears. He’s not wearing his jacket yet, the sleeves of his white collared shirt pulled up to his forearms, and he looks perfect.

You nervously knock on the frame of the door, as you drop your heels to the ground and join him at his side.

“Hey. Want my help?” you mumble, feeling the shake in your voice.

Eren’s fumbling with the plastic box in his hands, his throat bobbing, as he doesn’t respond, until it’s awkwardly been too long. And it’s almost like he’s realized it – that he was staring full on, that he had ignored what you had said – as he shakes his head before looking up at you.

“Did-did you say something to me?”

You can’t help but laugh, as you nervously rub at the sides of your biceps.

“Yeah. I was asking if you wanted help.”

“Right. Yeah, yeah. I was just making sure that the boxes had everyone’s names on it.” Eren adds.

You hum in response, as you join him at his side, and eye the little list that he had set in the middle of the counter. You start to eye the little labels, leaving little star marks next to each one you found on the paper, as you try to distract yourself and the burning in the pit of your stomach.

“You look beautiful.”

You feel your eyes widen.

“Huh?”

“I mean, you’re beautiful. You’re always beautiful, but you…”

Eren lifts his gaze from the plastic boxes, as he looks over at you, eyes striking and piercing. It sends a shiver down your spine. He places both of his hands on your elbows and you mimic the motion by resting yours against your forearms as you look up at him.

You watch as his eyes waver – first to your lips, before they drop down to your necklace. He reaches up, twisting the little Saturn charm in between his fingers, before he smiles up at you.

“Mine is on my jacket.”

You smile.

“He has to be there some way, right?”

He sighs.

“Yeah.”

“Speaking of…”

He looks around the little plastic boxes, before he reaches for one that has your name scribbled over the top. You reach for it, before he pulls back, giving you an offended look.

“Are you insane?” he asks.

“What? That’s literally mine.”

“What kind of guy do you think I am? You’re my date, I obviously have to put it on for you.” Eren states.

“Oh.”

Eren smiles.

“Yeah. Oh.”

Eren opens up the little plastic box, pulling out the little corsage, before fidgeting with the little flowers until they fall perfectly. You hold out your left hand to him and he slides the little ribbon across your wrist, until it’s set in place.

He lifts your hand and presses your knuckles against his lips, leaving a quiet kiss on your ring finger. It makes your chest burn.

“Perfect.” he whispers.

You swallow hard, trying to swallow the dryness in your throat, as you look up at him.

“Can I do yours?”

“I don’t have a corsage, sweetheart. Such a shame.”

You shove him.

“You know what I meant.”

He smiles, as he reaches for his coat hanging from the chair. You find the box with his name on it as he pulls his jacket on, adjusting it. You take the little silver pins and the boutonniere as you press it to the lapel. And it’s going well until you poke a little too hard, in the wrong direction.

“Ow.”

“Fuck. I’m so sorry, Eren.”

You can feel your hands shaking as you try to pin it properly this time, which only gets worse when you can feel that Eren’s watching you – and that he’s amused by how hard you’re trying not to stab him with the pins.

“That didn’t actually hurt, Y/N.”

You place the last pin before you unclench and look back up at him. You take the second to admire the little purple flowers on his coat, before smiling up at him.

“Perfect!”

Eren smirks, before he leans forward. He’s so close that you can feel the breath tickling your nose when he talks and the mint in his breath.

“No kiss for me?”

“Huh? Did…did you want one?”

“It’s hardly satisfying when you have to ask for it. You have to offer it to me.” Eren states.

And you were about to, but that’s right when Jean and Niccolo come tumbling down the stairs, readjusting their collars. You can hear the cars pulling up against the gravel outdoors, as Eren hands both of them their boutonnieres, and they run out the door.

Everyone tumbles through like a stampede – as you get stuck handing all of them the boxes and get too distracted to hand them all out. You feel your heart burst when Historia realizes that she gets two corsages – since Reiner and Connie are both her dates – and the dramatic display that they both make of kissing her hand and her cheeks when they put them on her has you giggling.

Levi and Hange are the last ones to leave, until it’s just you and Eren standing in the kitchen, facing each other.

“Ready?”

“Yeah. Just have to put my shoes on.”

Eren gives you a nod, before grabbing them from the side and getting on his knees. His arms move around your leg, exposed from the slit in the side of your dress as he secures the buckles around your ankles.

“Too tight?”

You clear your throat.

He has to know what he’s doing to you. That he can’t just place his head in between your legs like that.

“No. That’s good.”

He mimics the motion with the other shoe, fingers featherlike around your ankle, before he looks back up at you. And he holds his hand out to you, circling it around yours as the two of you walk out onto the gravel towards the car.

The four of you are lined up inside, peeking out the window, at Jean standing alone at the altar. You can see groups of people running around the little makeshift aisles – Hange and Levi sharing a drink, Lana with a little baby bump and Teddy tangled around her knees, and Sofia and Ymir admiring the flowers around the aisle.

“Lana and Sukuna are here. I can’t believe she’s showing already.” you whisper to Eren.

You watch as Eren’s eyes scan the room, before he catches the sight of the three of them on the left and smiles.

“Look at Teddy’s suit. He’s fucking adorable.”

“Sofia and Ymir look fucking amazing.” Connie adds.

“And Niccolo!” Sasha adds.

The three of you turn your gaze to her, giving her a side eye, before you all burst out laughing. In the time that you have to wait for Mikasa, Connie somehow produces two popsicles from the little truck outside, one that he hands to you and Eren and the other that he shares with Sasha.

You consider yourself lucky that Connie chose the blue one for himself and gave you and Eren the lemon, which had a translucent color. Connie later realizes his mistake when his tongue turns blue.

You look up at Eren, whose eyes are still transfixed at the people lingering around outside.

“You don’t want any, Eren?”

He looks over at you, and down at the popsicle, before he wraps his arm around your wrists and uses it to lift the popsicle to his mouth. He takes one bite and gives you a smile, before dropping his featherlike touch from your hand and looking back outside.

You can’t help but use your other hand to rub the inside of your forearm, where his fingers had just touched yours.

And you watch everyone with him, the two of you silently standing at the window. Levi keeps getting Hange refills and Reiner and Historia go in the photo booth. Sukuna basically guards Lana like a dog – refusing to leave her side, leaning down every few minutes to whisper in her ear, with what you know is constant questioning of if she’s comfortable or not.

Connie and Sasha yank on your elbows. The two of you turn your heads only to fall silent at the sight of Mikasa, excitedly smiling at you in her pristine and perfect white dress.

“Ready to get me married, guys?” she whispers.

You feel your heart squelch in your chest as you reach forward at the same time as Sasha, the two of you stuck in each of her arms and the fresh scent of her bouquet filling your nose. You can’t help but admire her – the shimmering glitter on her skin, the sparkling accents on her dress, and the veil flowing behind her.

It’s perfect.

She lets the two of you go before she gives Connie and Eren a shy smile, and they both rise to the occasion. They make a dramatic display of clutching their chests and it makes your heart sing as you watch Mikasa smile at the praise, at the two of them making it evidently clear that she’s one of the most beautiful things she’s ever seen. Connie and Eren both lean down to press a kiss to Mikasa’s cheeks, before you all line up, standing side by side.

Connie and Sasha stand in front, followed by you and Eren, and then Mikasa alone. You turn to Eren and he offers you a wink, as you feel your nerves bubble as the entrance song stars.

You can see it from the window – Levi seated at the piano with the microphone in front of him. And on his cue, Sasha and Connie walk out first together.

I've waited a hundred years But I'd wait a million more for you Nothing prepared me for What the privilege of being yours would do

Eren extends his hand out to you and you wrap yours in with his, as you both walk out into the courtyard. The air is fresh, the sun is dipping into the sunset and making a perfect mix of purple and pink hues, as the little lights hanging from the trees start twinkling.

You can’t help but squeeze hard on the bouquet as you walk down, nerves tingling. It’s warm in the little courtyard, but only because of how the blood rushes to your cheeks – it nearly hurts to smile this hard.

You offer Sukuna a wink as you walk past, before you and Eren let each other go at the end of the aisle. You and Eren stop before Jean, before leaning forward to give him a hug. You press a kiss to his cheek, which he smiles brightly at, before you and Eren take your spots opposite to each other at his side.

If I had only felt the warmth within your touch If I had only seen how you smile when you blush Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough

I would have known what I was living for all along What I've been living for

Levi’s voice is piercing, so warm and full that it makes the tears spark to your eyes. And when everyone rises out of their chairs and Mikasa steps out into the light, you instantly turn your head to the left to look at Jean.

And surely enough, Jean’s hands are shaking at his sides as the tears start to sprout out of his eyes – as he looks at her glide down and doesn’t break his eye contact once. It’s full blown tears, from both of them, and Mikasa’s basically rushing down the aisle just to get there faster.

You look past Jean to find Eren watching the two of them, with the brightest smile on his face.

Your love is my turning page Where only the sweetest words remain Every kiss is a cursive line Every touch is a redefining phrase

When Mikasa makes it to the end, Jean reaches for her hand and pulls her up. You take the little bouquet from her hands, and she gives you a wink in response, before turning back to Jean and locking her hands in with his.

I surrender who I've been for who you are For nothing makes me stronger than your fragile heart If I had only felt how it feels to be yours Well, I would have known what I've been living for all along What I've been living for

Levi finishes the end of his song with a dancing melody on the piano, before everyone takes a seat and they start the ceremony.

You and Eren stare at each other the entire time.

The reception afterwards is cast in silver moonlight. There’s a live jazz band, a little dance floor, and obviously an open bar. It’s a rush to make sure that Mikasa and Jean aren’t entirely shit faced by the time you’re able to perform your song and keeping them away from the bar before that happens turns out to be a horrendous task.

But surely enough, you and Eren are standing by the piano as you wait for Levi to announce the first dance. You turn to Eren, looking up at him, as you watch Levi make his way over to the microphone.

“Nervous?”

Eren shakes his head.

“Have you with me. We’ll be fine.”

You give him a nod as you absentmindedly tangle your hand in with his at your sides, that he welcomes. And when Levi announces that it’s time for the first dance, Mikasa and Jean make their way to the center of the dance floor, the two of them blowing you a kiss as you take your seat at the piano.

The second they look away, too entranced with looking at each other, Eren slides into the bench at your side and the two of you start playing the piano together. It’s only when Eren starts singing the first verse that they look back, at the two of you sitting there together.

Eren: I spy with my little tired eye Tiny as a firefly A pebble that we picked up last July Down deep inside your pocket We almost forgot it Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?

You look up from the piano keys to find Jean looking at you – smiling so brightly as the tears stream from his eyes – with Mikasa in his hands. You give him a wink, as you watch him turn his head away, his tears only increasing when he looks down at Mikasa.

Eren and Y/N: They said the end is coming Everyone's up to something I find myself running home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shoving You're in the kitchen humming All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

Y/N: On the way home I wrote a poem You say, "What a mind" This happens all the time

You can’t help but turn to your left to look at Eren, only to find that he’s already looking at you first. He tangles his foot in with yours under the piano as your fingers brush against each other and you can feel it – the softness enveloping you and Eren, that the feeling of being around him makes your skin tickle whenever he looks at you.

Y/N: Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more" To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

You and Eren turn your heads back to the dance floor to watch as everyone joins Jean and Mikasa on the dance floor, hands locked together as they all smile at each other. Connie, Reiner, and Historia are trying some weird three way version of slow dance that has all of them laughing, and Hange and Levi are stuck in some deep conversation that they are whispering in each other’s ears.

Falco and Gabi are so tense that it almost looks painful, but the smiles on their faces don’t indicate that they’re aware of how rigid they’re both being. And Ymir presses a kiss to Sofia’s cheek, which makes her laugh.

Eren and Y/N: They said the end is coming (they said the end is coming) Everyone's up to something (everyone's up to something) I find myself running home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shoving (outside, they're push and shoving) You're in the kitchen humming (you're in the kitchen humming) All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

You and Eren turn to your left to give the jazz band a thumbs up, as they take over on the music and start playing soft violin music so everyone can keep going. And you turn back to your right towards Eren and lean forward to wrap your arms around his neck.

And when you pull back, you secure one of his hands around his cheek and absentmindedly rub your thumb against his bottom lip.

“Think it went well?” Eren whispers.

You shrug. Eren smiles back, before mimicking your shrug in response.

You can feel the breath leave your lungs as you feel a pair of two arms around you, only to find Jean and Mikasa strangling you and Eren from behind the piano. The two of you stand up, to hug the two of them openly, as they smile down at you. Mikasa seems to break off to talk to Eren, because Jean pulls you to the side.

“Y/N.”

“Just to be clear, that was your gift. And if you hate it, that’s too bad because I –”

You’re cut off by Jean pressing a kiss to your cheek, before he envelopes you in a hug so hard that you can barely breathe. Jean lets go after a few minutes, his hand warm on your face as he smiles down at you.

“I loved it. That was the song of my dreams.”

You can’t help but grin at him.

“You deserve nothing less, Jean. I…I’m really happy for you. Just take care of my girl, okay?”

“That’s a promise.” he affirms.

You’re joined by Eren and Mikasa at your sides and you can tell from the pink mark on Eren’s cheek that Mikasa was feeling just as sappy as Jean was. You reach forward and wipe the mark away from his cheek, as you look at the two of them.

“I owe Mika a dance and then Gabi. I’m all yours after that, Y/N.” Eren says.

You smile, before you wave him off.

“Go ahead.”

You take your seat back at the piano bench, as you collect the sheet music and the lyrics and tuck them into the little cabinet of the piano. You sit there for some time – watching Eren and Mikasa giggle on the dance floor before he switches with Gabi who can’t stop blushing.

That’s until you’re joined by Levi at your side, who offers you a flute of champagne. You take it from him, as you tuck your arm into his, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“Your song was beautiful, Levi.” you murmur.

“Yours was too.” he responds.

You both watch the room in silence for some time, at how animated and lively it all was. Teddy was falling asleep against Sukuna’s shoulder, but him and Lana were caught in a deep conversation – soft smiles on both of their faces as they talked under their breaths at their table.

“I want to talk to you about something.” Levi states.

“Go ahead.”

Levi clears his throat.

“I…I hear that my vow renewal all those years ago meant a lot to you. Eren and I were talking about it.”

“Oh. Yeah, what about it?”

“I want to know what it meant.” Levi clarifies.

You lean back as you think about it – about the love in the room – and turn back to him.

“That night was the first time that Eren and I said we loved each other. That…that was the last time before things went so horribly wrong. Because we sat on the bench and talked about the love in the room, about how it was between us.”

You can feel your throat drying.

“After that, I got so busy. I started working too hard. He got stuck on Satellite Port, he…he was around people we hated and there were just so many things that came between us. I let go but then he did too. I had him for a second and then he was gone for good.”

You look back out at him, posing for a picture with Gabi encased in his arms.

“I saw you and Hange that day and all I could think about was how in love you guys were. About how I knew love was real, because you guys had it. That…that was what I was going to strive for, what I still do strive for at the end of the day. You guys are perfect, you’re THE love story for me and…you always have been.”

Levi sighs.

“Can I say one thing to you?” Levi asks.

“Yeah.”

“You have a tendency to not see things as they are sometimes. Like Danny and Sareen taking advantage, like Eren saying it was okay when you let him go, and believing him when he said what he did.”

You tilt your head to the side, in confusion.

“Hange and I are far from perfect. I’ll tell you now, very clearly. Hange and I did a vow renewal because we needed one. Not because it was romantic and we wanted to do it again.”

“What?”

“We wouldn’t be together if we didn’t do it. And our relationship reached that point, where…where we needed to affirm it again. That we loved each other, that we were committed, that we were what was most important.”

You sit back, dumbfounded.

Levi and Hange were in love. They had always been in love.

“I don’t get it.”

Levi smiles.

“What I mean by this is that…these things are normal in love. The initial attraction doesn’t keep you going. You have to pick each other, you have to be on the same side. It’s far more intentional, less cosmic as you think.” Levi states.

You follow his gaze to Jean and Mikasa, clearly obscenely drunk out of their minds, eating their wedding cake.

“They’re just as perfect as me and Hange are. It’s a fucking testament to them that they’re sitting here married after what happened with them. And it should be proof to you that what happened with you and Eren won’t hold you back, that…that it’ll really benefit you when it comes to it. You’ve already gotten past the hard part, you just need to leap now.”

You swallow hard.

“Are you shattering my entire worldview by telling me the truth about your vow renewal so I’ll date Eren?”

“Yeah.”

“Figures.”

Levi looks over at you, hands warm on your shoulders.

“Your mistake wasn’t picking him. His was not picking you when it came to it later, not in the way that mattered anyway. Now, fix it. Pick him now.”

Levi abruptly stops when Eren’s standing at your side, tie loosened around his neck as he gives you a cheesy smile.

“Ready for me?” Eren asks.

Levi gives you a narrowed look, which you ignore as you nod and stand up at his side. Eren leads you to the center of the dance floor, securing his hands around your waist as you tangle your own around his neck.

You and Eren sway to the violin in the background, the two of you quietly observing each other as you walk in step.

“I’m sorry I took so long. I danced with Mikasa and then Gabi. Lana and Sukuna stopped to talk to me and I just got side tracked.”

You shake your head.

“No, no. I…it’s okay. I was with Levi.”

Eren smiles.

“I…I’m glad you’re here with me now.” he whispers.

“Me too.” you whisper back.

The live singer, a small gift that Levi and Hange had planned for Mikasa and Jean, arrives right at the start of your little dance, and her voice so soft and melodic that you can’t help but pull yourself closer to Eren as she sings, until your ear is muffled against his coat, barely catching the ends of his heartbeat.

Time's moving so much slower lately It's like the world's playin' a joke Laughing at me for falling foolishly again But something's different with you

Traffic on Sunset doesn't phase me I'm just unusually composed That is until I touch you and I can't pretend I lose myself again, I do

I'm all in, I'm fallin' Can't get back up Can't think right, too tongue-tied It must be love

“Eren?”

“Yeah?”

“What are you thinking about?”

He pulls you apart a little, until you’re standing properly and looking up at him. The violin’s are sending goosebumps down your arms as he looks down at you, pointer finger hooked under your chin as he guides you to look up at him.

“That someone heard my prayers.”

You smile.

“Really?”

He nods.

“Armin and I used a whoopie cushion on Connie earlier. Gabi gave me a sweet kiss on the cheek and Teddy fell asleep in my lap earlier. Jean and Mikasa are getting married and I’m here with you. There was a point where thinking I’d ever end up here seemed unfathomable to me.”

“You and Armin are so immature.” you state.

Eren shrugs.

“It keeps me young,” he jokes.

Friends asking me where I've been hiding I'm losin' hours in your eyes Lost in your wonderland, I hope I'm never found There's no one else around, tonight

I'm not so used to being happy Now I just float down every street You made a sappy, stupid something out of me The kind I swore I'd never be I'm awake inside a dream

“I have…I have a lot I want to talk to you about, Eren. So…so much I want to say.”

Eren’s eyes widen.

“My time is always yours. What did you want to say?”

“It’s so many things. And I want to say it right. There’s…there’s so much going on and I don’t want you to take it the wrong way and I don’t want to scare you off because you and I are just doing good again and I don’t think that –”

Eren narrows his eyes.

“Why are you so tense? There’s nothing you could say that would hurt my feelings. It’s just me.”

You frown.

“That’s the problem. It’s just you.”

You feel a tapping on your shoulder, only to find Jean and Mikasa standing by your side, with two glasses in their hands.

“Are we interrupting something?” Jean asks.

You groan.

“No. What’s up?”

“We have one last request.” Mikasa states.

“What is it?” Eren asks.

The two of them give each other an excited smile – cheeks glazed pink – before they turn back to you.

“You have to let loose and drink.” they state, pushing the glasses into your hands.

You both give each other a pinched look, before turning back to them.

“We don’t drink. It makes me sleepy. And he doesn’t like the taste.” you state.

“We’re not going to force you. But really, you put so much time into the wedding. We just want you guys to have fun…loosen up a little bit.” Mikasa states.

The two of them giggle as they walk away, leaving the two of you in the center of the dance floor, nursing the glasses in your hands. You look up at him, entirely lost from your train of thought, as he eyes the liquid.

“Do you want to?” Eren asks.

“I don’t know. Do you want to?”

“It’s been a while since I’ve drank. And really, I only choose not to drink because I always seem to be around people that I’d feel uncomfortable losing my inhibitions around. But it’s just you and me and you’re basically one of the only people I could drink around. I don’t think a little wouldn’t hurt, I guess.”

You nod, following his lead. Your moment to say your piece had passed already.

“Okay. Okay, yeah.”

You both lift the glasses to your lips and sip.

Eren has to carry you back into the house. Because true to your previous statement, wine did make you really sleepy – and two bottles of it has you curled up into his lap in the back of the car.

Eren can feel his heart beating fast, the sensation blooming in his chest as he tries to steady his breaths. He absentmindedly runs his hands through your hair, running his finger over the sole braid tucked behind your ear.

He doesn’t think about it very well, but he leans forward and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. Eren figures that he must have leaned too close because it has you rousing from your sleep, only nuzzling into his chest even more.

“Are we home yet, Eren?”

He can feel his chest tightening.

“No, sweetheart. Almost, okay?”

“Okay. Okay, just take me in with you, alright?” you mumble.

Eren saves his retort about how he’d never leave you behind for when you’re awake, just so he could make sure that you’d actually remember it. And five minutes later, he’s left standing on the gravel with you, as you lean almost all of your weight into his side.

Every move he makes has you losing your balance, almost toppling to the ground.

“Hey. Can you lock your arms around my neck?”

You give him a halfhearted mumble before following his instructions, only to feel him hook his arms underneath your legs and shakily walk you towards the door. You can tell that he’s stumbling a little bit – not walking straight as he almost backs up into the wall as he walks in.

The two of you must have had too much to drink. Because as Eren walks straight up the stairs, he aims so horribly that he smacks your head straight into the wall and curses after the fact.

“Eren.” you hiss.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t see the wall.”

You groan in response.

“Look out for it next time.”

Eren scathes his way to the hallway to his room, which he kicks open before leading you in. You all but collapse on his bed face first as he leans against the wall – groaning from how dizzy he was getting. Luckily for him, he had thought ahead to lay out clothes for himself – and that he overthought so much that there was a second pair too.

Eren walks over to the bed, placing one of his hands on your shoulder as he shakes.

“Y/N.”

No response.

“Y/N. You can’t sleep in your pretty dress.” he whispers.

“Tired.” you respond, voice mumbled.

“Here. I’ll help you change, just work with me.”

Eren holds one of his hands out to you, which you take. He uses it to pull you up until you’re leaning against him, head lolled against his shoulder and his hands on your waist stabilizing you. Eren secures his hand around your face and you lean into the touch as he looks down at you, eyes side.

“Work with me here.” Eren whispers.

“Okay.”

“I’m going to help you with the zipper on your dress. Just slide the shirt that I left on the side, I-I’ll close my eyes.”

You shrug.

“No, it’s okay. You don’t have to close your eyes.”

“What?”

“I don’t know. Is that weird? It…it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. And…and I’m not…I don’t know what I’m saying.”

Eren gives you a nod before he guides you to turn around, fixing his shaking hands on the zipper as he starts pulling it down. Eren can feel his breath hitch in his throat as he turns his head away, trying to banish the thought of the fabric pooling at your legs on the floor, at the small dip in your back that he always seemed to think about.

He can feel you tugging at his arm and he turns back to find you drowning in one of his old t-shirts, as you look up at him.

“Are you cold? I have pants you can wear or…or an extra blanket and I –”

“No. No, it’s okay.”

Eren didn’t really ask for the help, maybe because he was a little bit more awake than you, but he doesn’t stop you when you reach forward and start unbuttoning his shirt. Eren can tell that it’s more difficult for you than it would have been for him, but he doesn’t have it in his heart to stop you.

Eren pulls the shirt off and discards it to the side, before turning around to unbutton his pants and switch into his boxers.

“You…you don’t have to wear a shirt. If you still don’t.” you state.

Eren can feel his cheeks burning.

“You sure?”

“I actually don't want you to. That’s why I mentioned that.”

You’re definitely drunk, Eren thinks.

“And why’s that?”

“I like feeling close to you. There’s nothing between my ear and your heart when I lean against you.” you mumble.

Eren can feel his heart constrict – even more than it was before – when you look up at him now, the glitter smeared around your eyes. And he’s not sure what it is, but there’s tears accumulating in your eyes, replacing the sweetness in his chest with concern.

“Eren.” you whimper.

“What? What is it?”

You swallow hard. You lean your hands against his chest, before pressing your cheek to his chest.

“I love you so much.”

Eren frowns, before leaning his chin against the top of your head.

“That’s nothing to cry about, princess. I love you too.”

You shake your head, bringing your hands up to your cheeks as you squeeze hard on the skin.

“No. No, I love you, Eren.” you whisper.

“Y/N. You…you’re drunk.”

You frown.

“You don’t believe me?”

“I do. But I…I don’t know if it’s because you’re drunk. You might change your mind in the morning.” Eren states.

You shake your head.

“Eren. Eren, you’re everything to me.”

You look up at him, reaching to tuck the ends of his hair behind his ear, as you feel your voice shake.

“I saw Mikasa and Jean and I just…I just knew more than I already did before that I want it to be me and you. I want us to write songs together, I want to wake up next to you, I want to give you haircuts in our bathtub.”

Eren smiles.

“Haircuts?”

“I love your hair short. Just a little bit shorter than it is now, because…because it looks like your hair when I fell in love with you. I’ve been falling since then and I just need you to crawl down into this hole and be here with me, Eren.” you mumble.

Eren sighs.

“I’d do anything you asked me to. But, but I need you to say it to me tomorrow, when…when you’re being serious.”

“I am serious. Eren, there’s no love in the room if you aren’t in it with me.”

Eren has no words. He has to stumble something out – something because you’re looking at him so expectantly with your doe eyes like you’re waiting for him to give in.

“Still.”

You nod, as you stand on the tips of your toes to tuck yourself into the neck.

“Can you give me one thing, Eren?”

“What?”

“Will you kiss me? Just once?” you ask.

Eren pulls back, eyes weary as he looks down at you.

“I don’t want to take advantage of you. You, you’re…”

“I want to kiss you. I messed up our second kiss while we were filming because I wanted to kiss you so bad I forgot we were working. I think about it all the time. I want it so bad and I just –”

Eren leans forward, pressing his lips to yours. You can still taste the remnants of the wine on his lips and he’s breathing shakily into your mouth as he cradles your face in his hands.

You can feel your heart somersault when he smiles into the kiss, when he presses two, three, and four more to the side of your face. You drop your hands from his neck to his back, the raised skin of the scars on his back underneath your fingers as he presses kisses down your neck.

“Eren.”

“Sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry. Too much. We have to go to bed because you’re drunk and I…I can’t do this if you’re drunk and I am too and it…”

You nod.

“You’re right. Just…just let me sleep here with you?” you ask.

“Come on.”

Eren walks around to the other side of the bed, not without walking straight into the wall first, before he climbs under the sheets with you. And it’s the last thing he remembers before he goes to sleep – you wrapping your leg around him and pressing a kiss right on top of his heart before he goes to bed.

When you wake up in the morning, Eren’s spot in the bed is empty. And you only see him an hour later, when you’re able to reel from what happened last night and see him in the kitchen.

There’s ten different people milling around the kitchen. Erwin and Historia, Connie and Falco throwing a football, and Sasha taste testing Niccolo’s coffee. But all you see when you walk in is Eren, who just gives you a small wave.

You feel the rejection sting as you offer it back and take the spot next to him.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Happy last day of filming. Well, not for us, but…you..you know what I meant.” he states.

You feel your heart drop. He doesn’t remember last night.

“You too, Eren.”

an: oh ladies and gentleman are we ready. ARE WE READY BC CONFESSION NEXT CHAPTER AND IM SO FRRRR. not proofread maybe ill do it tomorrow if I feel strongly enough about it.

also taylor as gojo, bsfs older brother sukuna, and method acting in three days. aka. I CRY A LOT BUT I AM SO PRODUCTIVEEEE ITS AN ART (no I don't I just though this joke was funny)

alsOOOO as I wrap things up I remember someone mentioned wanting some MA chapters from eren's perspective but I can't for the life of me think about which one's would be good for that. the main one that comes to mind is when y/n gets stranded and eren comes to her rescue with ricky LOL. anyways im open to ideas.

taglist: @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol l @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi @najaemism @ilovekimchi123 @youraggedybitch @xoyumiqls @leafguitar @spiidergirlsworld @luvs4kim @levin4nami i @florichun @hoonmyluv

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iateyourparents · 5 months

Text

fOoL fOr YoU | c.b.

pairing: colby brock x singer!fem!reader

summary: fate has its own ways to connect people who are destined to each other, even after breaking them apart at some point in life.

warnings: kinda short, use of y/n, bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry but english is not my first language)

an: songs used here are fOoL fOr YoU by ZAYN, My stupid heart by Walk off the Earth. Album used in here - Lover by Taylor Swift.

pictures are from pinterest:)

“Come on guys, let me hear you! I know you like this one!” you said to microphone before continuing the song “Cause I’m a fool for you and the things, the things you do…”

You heard crowd clearly and loudly singing with you your debutant song and you couldn’t feel more proud.

Even though since realese of this song you made two whole albums it still was most of your fans’ favorite song, and to be honest, it was yours too.

It was song about your teenage love, how you felt about that one boy that you aren’t even in touch anymore. You wrote fOoL fOr YoU while you still were a lovesick teenager but before you were able to present it to your former muse from these times, you were broken up.

Then, years later you met that amazing man, Charles, who took you under his wings becoming your manager and helped you with realesing your debutant single - fOoL fOr YoU.

And that’s how you became pretty famous and now, here you were playing all around the world for your “we’ll never be the same again” world tour, promoting your newest album.

“Alright, that was so good! Thank you!” you took a break to take a sip of water and then you were back in front of the chanting crowd “Okay, so I wrote this one about my ex who was absolutely awful experience but also taught me a lot.”

You could hear loud screams from a crowd which already knew what song you were about to sing so you just laughed and started singing, crowd following also started shouting lyrics.

“My stupid heart don’t know, I’ve tried to let you go so many times before…”

After few more songs you bided your goodbye to the crowd promising you will be back someday and you got off the stage and met Charles on backstage.

„How was it?” you asked with smile, sipping water.

„That was great!” you could say he was proud „And you were worried you wouldn’t be able to play on arenas.”

„That’s a big step!” you defended yourself with smile „I can’t wait to take a shower, I stink.” you grimaced.

„I won’t disagree.” he laughed and hugged you „Go relax a little before we have to go to tourbus.”

„You too Charlie, I know that you are secretly almost ripping off your hair.”

Now you were supposed to head to Los Angeles where you would play two concerts and then you would have a month long break before starting last part of the tour - Europe.

|||

You were currently sitting at the vanity in your changing room. Your make up artist, Sarah, was doing your make up for your last performance before a break when Charles came into the room.

„Hi” he started.

„Hi Charlie, what’s up?” you could tell he had some offer for you.

„What do you say, you, me and your band go to some club after you come off the stage to celebrate successful tour?”

You looked at him in the mirror and smirked at him.

„Sounds great to me.”

|||

You and your crew sat in some club. You weren’t drunk but it felt good to feel more easy with alcohol in your system after stressful couple of weeks.

„My forever favorite moment is when this one fan threw his boxers on scene and they landed perfectly in front of y/n. Her face was priceless.” Mark, the drummer, laughed. You loved talking about memories from the tour but that memory actually was traumatizing since it was the first time ever when something like this happened.

„I felt attacked.” you joked and took a last sip of your sweet drink „I’ll go order next one. Somebody wants something?”

You heard chorus of no’s and assurances that they have almost full glasses so you just walked towards the counter and waited for a bartender to end taking someone else’s order.

„Your concert was awesome.” you heard next to you. When you turned to the side you saw someone you thought you would never see again in person.

Infamous ghost hunter, your ex and an old muse of yours.

Cole Brock.

Or rather, Colby.

„Thank you” you smiled „Fancy seeing you here.”

„I live in LA.” he explained „I liked this one song, what was it? Fool for you?”

You smirked and shook your head „Yeah, I like it too.”

„So, was I good muse?” he winked and you laughed. Of course he would know it was about him. You’re pretty sure that when you were together you were sometimes telling him parts of this song.

„Excellent, thank you.”

„I’m always happy to help, so if you will need some new music, here’s my number.” he handed you a piece of paper with some numbers.

„I’ll make sure to call if i’ll need anything.” you winked at him and he laughed.

„I hope so.” he looked behind his back where a blonde boy, Sam, called him „I have to go but i’ll be waiting for your call.”

|||

If some days later you actually called Colby, nobody have to know. And if that meeting ended with him tangled in your sheets, also nobody have to know. And if this was more than one time occurrence then also nobody have to know.

And if your next album called ’Lover’ was about him and everyone knew it was about him, then it’s okay.

And if you both tattooed ’fOoL fOr YoU’ on your hips on the day of your wedding, then it’s great even if everybody knows.

You two really were like lovesick fools.

#colby brock x reader #colby #colby brock #sam and colby #snc #music #katrina stuart #sam golbach

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eitaababe · 1 year

Text

SOMEBODY ELSE !

— chapter 21. earn me.

a/n — oh my god guys we made it it's the end

series masterlist. | previous / end.

written portion below. —

"since when did you listen to taylor swift?" you snorted as you made your way into the car, lo'ak only shrugging in response.

"rey kinda just takes the aux chord anytime she's in my car, taylor started to grow on me."

"as she should," you nodded, immediately turning up the volume when you saw the song, gasping in excitement. "LONG STORY SHORT IT WAS THE WRONG GUY!" you shouted from the top of your lungs, lo'ak laughing beside you.

"you said that with a little too much heart, if you ask me."

"shut up!" you scoffed in mock offense, reaching over to flick his forehead. "you're actually horrible."

"hey, i just said what needed to be said."

the whole car ride consisted of uncontrollable laughter and shouting of taylor swift, before lo'ak turned down the volume, making you look over in confusion.

"ok, so what's going on between you and my brother?"

"lo'ak!" you groaned in annoyance, only to be met with his laughter when you turned red. "we just decided that we liked each other again, i guess."

"did you ever really stop?" he questioned, pulling into a parking space.

you pondered for a moment, sitting still before getting out of the car. "i guess not."

"simp."

"shut the fuck up."

you both bickered as you walked to the cafe, lo'ak stopping just a few feet short of it, blocking your view inside. "you know, are we really sure we wanna do this whole barista thing? i mean, i did burn coffee."

"well hopefully you know how to work a cash register." you laughed, trying to push past only to be met with the hard of his chest.

"you know, i don't think i ever told you the full story of how me and tsireya got together-"

"lo'ak, you can tell me inside, okay?" you pushed past him once more, this time successful. you chuckled to yourself at the boys odd antics, your smile fading as you stopped a few steps into the cafe.

"i'm sorry i tried to-"

you cut lo'ak off, flashing a glare towards the blonde. "literally what the fuck is her problem? why is she so obsessed with neteyam- like take a hint, he doesn't want you."

the boy besides you only laughed, clutching onto your shoulder. "so true. she probably just is clueless."

"annoying," you grumbled under your breath, walking over towards a register, trying to put the thought of neteyam and another girl as far from your head as possible before you could take your interview.

neteyam, who only stood still with a confused violet across from him was approached by lo'ak, whispering lowly in his ear. "if you let y/n leave this cafe before talking to you, you might not have another chance with her again."

─── neteyam !

lo'ak's right, eywa, neteyam knows he's right.

the thought of losing his chance to be with you, once again, is enough to tear neteyam to shreds. and he knows he should probably go after you, talk to you before you go to that interview instead of watching you walk into a separate room and letting violet even slightly think she has a chance with him compared to you.

but alas, even neteyam succumbs to the many voices in his head that tell him he shouldn't. that tell him he wasn't enough for you then and most certainly won't be now. that tell him he should let you go and be with someone you deserve, that tell him he shouldn't be as selfish as he wants to right now.

so he sits in silence, let's violet try to figure out what the hell is going on with him from across the table. he thinks and thinks and thinks, and he doesn't realize how much time was really passed until he watches you brush past lo'ak, making a beeline for outside.

and as he makes a move to follow after you he hesitates, wondering if maybe the voices in his head were right all along.

but this time he decides he shouldn't stick around to find out.

so neteyam leaves violet in the dust, her calls of protest only white noise to him as he chases after you.

─── y/n !

as you heard your name being shouted from across the parking lot, you turned at the familiar voice.

a voice you could recognize anywhere.

you're almost sure you could recognize neteyam by his touch alone, the tenderness in the way his calloused hands ran over your skin, or the hesitant way he'd reach for you.

and even yet, even at the feeling of possible betrayal from the one person you're almost positive it would break you, you still feel comfort from his voice.

he catches up with you, face rather flushed. "whatever that was back there, it wasn't what it looked like."

only lifting your brow in amusement, neteyam continued. "violet's been dming me like crazy the past week, and i've been ignoring everything. i probably should've just blocked her instead because she saw my post and figured we were something we weren't and-"

"neteyam," you cut him off, gaining his whole attention by calling him by his full name. "it's not like- like we're dating, you know?" you noticed the way his shoulders dropped slightly at the statement, but you both knew you were right. "you don't have to explain yourself to me. i know about violet, and especially how she feels about you."

"i don't know where you're going with this," neteyam honestly answered, looking all out of sorts. "what are you trying to say? that you don't care that another girl was holding my hand?"

"i'm saying, you're allowed to live a life and not have to explain every waking thing you do to me," you countered. "and of course i care, neteyam. i care so much. but don't you see what this is doing to us? to our friendship?"

"y/n," neteyam started, refusing to let you step away from him, his hands grasping for your arms. "we can fix this, can't we? we've had some miscommunications here and there, but eywa, i've only wanted you. i don't want violet, or any other girl for that matter. i just want you, and i know you want me. shouldn't that be the only thing that matters?"

"you want me?" you inquired, not waiting for his confirmation. "i need you to prove it. i refuse to be someone you think you can run back to so easily. if you really mean it, earn me."

you left him in the parking lot and went back inside, not giving him the chance to say anything else.

───

the ride home in lo'ak's car was relatively silent, neither of you daring to talk. lo'ak was still a little lost on the situation, only understanding that things clearly didn't go as well as he expected them to.

nevertheless, he didn't question you in respects for your privacy, and trusted that you would tell him when you were ready.

"let me know if you need anything, yeah?" he called out as you got out of the car.

you smiled softly in response, nodding. "thanks for the ride."

you ended the call with kiri, flopping yourself on the nearby couch.

the past few weeks and the fiasco have been more than enough to keep you busy, and honestly? you just wanted to nap. so you grabbed some random blanket laid across the couch, settling on top of the cushions and closing your eyes, trying to let sleep overtake you.

until you heard a knock on the door.

"i'm dreaming, it's apart of my dream, fuck off." you whined, hoping whoever was there would go away.

your hopes were crushed when the knocking continued, this time more insistent.

"i'm coming, i'm coming! so impatient." grumbling, you wrapped the blanket around your figure, opening the door to face neteyam.

"hi, i-"

"what are you doing here?" you cut him off, more shocked than you should be at the fact he was standing in front of you.

"proving it to you," he simply replied, as if it made all the sense in the world. "i'm serious about this, y/n. i know you're skeptical about this and really you should be, but you can trust me, i swear. and i know i've been stupid when it comes to you-"

"really stupid." you added quietly, making him chuckle and roll his eyes at your remark.

"really stupid," he confirmed. "i just- sometimes i cant think straight around you, you know? you drive me absolutely insane and i lose my mind around you half the time."

"are you implying i'm difficult?"

"i would never," he smiled, stepping inside and closing the door, figuring the entire hall didn't need to hear the entire conversation. "i'm trying to imply that i know i don't make the best decisions when it comes to you, and i'm trying to fix it. because i don't think i could stand the idea of only being your friend when i know we could be so much more."

you nodded, your silence making him worry for a moment. "you're right. and you aren't the only one being stupid— i am too. i'm overly cautious around you, it's like i cant stand to make a mistake when it comes to us."

"we're gonna make mistakes, that's natural," neteyam spoke, laughing to himself when he reached for you and saw you wrapped up in the blanket. "but i'll make as many mistakes as it takes if it means i can finally learn how to be with you properly."

"you really mean that?" you know you should trust him, and eywa, you really do. but you're still clinging onto the feeling, the desperation for confirmation.

"i do," he assured, opening up the blanket. "now can you please move this damned blanket so i can give you a proper hug?"

─── one month later ! (your birthday.)

you had just finished your shift, ready to head home and take a much needed shower.

alas, your plan was deterred by a call of your name, a smile immediately making its way to your face at the sight of your newly named boyfriend.

"teyam!" you called, engulfing him in a tight squeeze when he lightly jogged over. "what are you doing here?"

"well you're working on your birthday, i had to come see you one way or another."

"awh, you remembered?" you teased, landing a kiss on the soft of his cheek.

"i'd never hear from you again if i forgot," he quipped. "i actually brought you something, before i see you again tonight."

"neteyam-" you started, no doubt in his mind about to complain about multiple gifts.

"shhhh, let me spoil you," he cut you off. "it's actually something i've wanted you to have for awhile now." wordlessly taking a hidden gold chain from underneath his sweater, neteyam pulled it off himself, revealing what looked like a round locket.

as he handed it over you opened the locket to see an old photograph of you and him, and you smiled, remembering the day like it was yesterday. "how long have you had this?"

"i-" he started, tilting his head with an awkward chuckle. "i got it the day we broke up, actually. the girl you saw me with had it made for me."

your mind flashed back to the argument where you brought her up, and as your face fell, neteyam quickly stopped you before you could think anymore about it. "i just wimped out of giving it to you. now seems like a great occasion for it, though."

"i love it," you declared, looking up at him. "i love you."

eyes widening at the sudden confession, neteyam was unable to stop the smile creeping up on him. "really?"

you nodded, taking his hand in yours. "really."

"i love you too," he admitted, and somehow the dirty alleyway that led to your car was the most romantic scene you'd have to experience yet.

"i always have."

—

taglist #1 / closed ! @n7ytiri @ilovejakesullysdick @possysblog @love-chx @evphology @afro-hispwriter @ydsm-29 @goldeneywa @doulcha @krazy-kattzz @squid4 @blairrrrrr @neteyamforlife @dreamtogether2000 @444lyra @ambria @cawi00 @calums-betch @powowowy @fadingpalacebonkpsychic @elegantkidfansoul @kolsmikaelson @mirikusashes @yukichan67 @goodiesinthecloset21 @netemoon @teyums @littlethingsinlife @coconut-dreamz @anm3mi @jjkclub @il0veheartz @liyahsocorro @drugs-for-memes @grierpilots @misscaller06 @lightskinloak @mommyneytiri @inluvwithneteyam @halibanana @iheartamajiki @ipoopedmypants47 @neigesprincess @lookiiheh @ghostjoohoney @ronalsgirl @alwayswndr @khaleesi56 @azaleaniath @dilfverz

THE END.

─── all i can say is just omfg we finally did it guys 😭 i wanna say thank you to everyone who read this smau and enjoyed it, your support and love was truly amazing and really was my motivation to keep this going. you all are so so special to me and i hope you enjoyed somebody else!

yours truly, rory. ⭐️

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sl0t4matt · 6 days

Text

m. guiu bf! head canons (requested)

❀ he‘s crazy about you.

❀ his friends like to tease him about how obsessed he is with you but he doesn’t care. how could he not? in his eyes you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid eyes on. outside and inside.

❀ he doesn’t want to spend his time with anyone that isn’t you.

❀ “marc! we’re gonna go out to eat with the team. you know, to celebrate tonight’s win.”

❀ “i’m okay, my girl is waiting for me.” he would say.

❀ you on the other hand like to also go out with your friends, since you never want to be that person, that does nothing with her friends anymore just because she’s dating someone.

❀ marc understands and waits in your bed for you, or calls hector out, since he’s always pissed marc completely neglects him when you’re around him.

❀ he just can’t help it. he’s head over heels for you. you got him charmed.

❀ you always send thirsty edits of him to him on tiktok.

❀ “fuck i look good.” he would say.

❀ but oh, can he be a part of the sassy man apocalypse. hitting you with comebacks you wouldn’t have even thought about. not even just that he would hit you with smart ass remarks. he was good with them. leaving you speechless sometimes.

❀ one thing about marc is he will spoil you. no matter how many times you tell him not to. that you do not need that prada bag on your pinterest board. it seems to be going in one ear and out of the other because he has almost bought you your whole pinterest wishlist.

❀ one of his most expensive gifts would be the catier bracelet that has his name engraved on it. you wear it every day to show everyone off but also feel close to him no matter where he is.

❀ you were so mad at him for buying it at first because of the price and how you don’t need all of that. that he’s enough. but he says he “wanted to” and shushes you.

❀ you’re his passenger princess.

❀ you have all of your lip products in his car. it almost looks like it’s your car.

❀ he always lets you put on your playlist since you think his music taste is shit.

❀ you influenced him though, because now he knows almost every song of your favourite artists and also listens to them while practice.

❀ he gets you your favourite flowers on every date you guys have. you could say it’s his love language to surprise you with flowers. even if the both of you just lay in your bed and watch a movie.

❀ when he’s coming to your house, he not only brings you flowers but also your mom and sweets for your siblings.

❀ another one of his love languages is physical touch. from only holding your waist in room full of people to kissing up your thighs as he goes down on you.

❀ he loves giving you head and tasting you. you think it gives him some sort of ego boost to please you.

❀ he also thinks it’s so hot when you wear his barca jersey while riding him. when you tried it for the first time it was just for fun wanting to try something new. you moaned “visca barca” in his ear, meaning for it to be funny. but he took it seriously and came three seconds after you said it. (😭)

❀ “please ma keep it on!” he would groan.

❀ can be such a whiny bitch sometimes when it comes to waiting to fuck you.

❀ it doesn’t help he would get hard at the most random moments.

❀ you lean into marc, your hand steading yourself on his leg to kiss him. your soft lips meet his for a few seconds then pull on his bottom lip teasingly.

❀ “let’s go in!” you pat his leg, leaning back in the seat as you wait for marc to open the door for you like he always does.

❀ “i-. uhm. can’t.” he coughs. you laugh loudly. “marc!! again?” you shake your head. “you’re pathetic!” you tease him laughing.

❀ you look down at the tent growing in his pants. “you’re not helping!” he groans his head falling back.

❀ “you want me to help you?” you poke his chest, winking. he sighs looking out. people won’t see us due to his black windows anyways.

❀ “fuck yeah. please do.”

❀ like said he loves you wearing his jersey that also speaks for the matches. it gives him strength to win, so you make sure that the barca jersey you’re wearing has the number 38 printed on it.

❀ you’re an emotional mess on his games. one time you’re celebrating that your boyfriends team scored, the other you’re cursing the refs and opponents.

❀ no one wants to face you when marc is scoring a goal. you’re going full crazy. yelling and chanting his name like an embarrassing mom. clapping and jumping like you’re completely mental.

❀ he points up to the bleachers to you, taking every opportunity on dedicating the goal to you. he would blow a kiss and you’d do the same after calming yourself down.

❀ you have a ritual for after the game. when the both of you come back from the game, you would give him a little reward for scoring ;)

❀ though it’s not really a valid one because when he loses, you try releasing his anger with doing the same thing.

❀ he would drag your hair while you give him head due to his anger.

❀ after completely ruining you he would apologise like the soft boyfriend he is.

❀ “sorry if i was too rough, baby.” he would say looking down on you.”

❀ “it’s okay.” you would smile, eyes still glossy.

❀ after, you would lay your head on his chest and force him to stroke your arm until you fall asleep.

#marc guiu #Spotify #barca #fc barcelona #joao felix #lamine yamal #pablo gavi #hector fort #fermin lopez #guiu #la masia

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nina-ya · 4 months

Note

May I please request a super angsty femReaderxzoro fic where reader dies trying to save zoro but in a really specific way as in she has devil fruit similar to uta but with healing abilities instead and she trades her life to save zoro which makes her have a death similar to rikas from jjk but the song she sing when she’s leaving is long live by Taylor Swift specifically “long live all the mountains we moved I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you” ect.If it’s too detailed, you don’t have to do it but I would really enjoy if you could do this

Long Live

A/N: Italics is a flashback and purple are the song lyrics I had so much fun writing this! well as much fun as you can have writing something sad, but thank you for giving me an excuse to write about more Taylor i hope you enjoy! <3 Pairing: Zoro x fem!reader CW: Reader dies, blood, vague alluding to sex WC: 2.1k Your voice had been a source of joy and happiness for as long as you could remember, and your devil fruit ability only heightened that joy, granting you the power to heal through your melodies. It felt like a gift straight out of a fairy tale. Cradling injured individuals in your arms, you would serenade them, witnessing their wounds miraculously vanish as they sprang up with newfound energy.

In your pursuit of understanding and enhancing your abilities, you dove into the histories of past users who once possessed this ability before you. While you didn't find much in terms of strengthening your powers, you stumbled upon something intriguing: the most recent user of your ability met their demise by sacrificing their life for a marine soldier. The event was well-documented—the tale of their final song and fading away into the unknown, all to save a critically wounded soldier. At the time, you found such sacrifice baffling and perhaps even foolish. The idea of willingly giving up one's life for another was a concept that had always left you questioning whether you could ever do such a thing.

You first encountered Zoro when he casually slid into the seat next to yours at a random, somewhat sketchy tavern on an island whose name had already slipped your memory. Ordering a beer, as expected, neither of you paid much attention to the other until you initiated a conversation, asking about the swords he carried with him. Drink after drink, the banter flowed effortlessly, and as the night progressed, so did the subtle hints of flirtation. Before you knew it, you found yourselves in the confines of the bathroom, Zoro pinning you against the wall, lips locked, hands exploring, clothes quickly discarded—an intense moment that seemed to mark the conclusion of your unexpected encounter. Or so you thought.

The next day, as you went about your business, you stumbled upon a wanted poster that featured none other than Roronoa Zoro, one of the most formidable and dangerous men in the world. The revelation left you torn between celebrating or worrying over the fact that you had just slept with one of the most deadliest men in the world right now. You had chosen the former.

Your lingering questions about whether you'd see him again were answered when, to your surprise, you spotted Zoro rounding a corner, seemingly lost and running in your direction. The unexpected reunion left you wondering about the twists and turns fate had in store for the two of you. He screeched to a halt in front of you, muttering something about being in the wrong place. You were on the verge of teasing him for looking like a lost fool when the unmistakable sounds of approaching marine footsteps and shouts pierced the air from behind. Without a moment's hesitation, Zoro swiftly unsheathed his swords, leaving you momentarily confused when he shoved one into his mouth. Your confusion gave way to surprise as marines in front of you began dropping like flies.

In the chaos, Zoro reached for your hand, grabbed it, and started running with you. Urgently, he asked you to lead him to the docks. Though an underlying sense of fear lingered, the idea of potential injury or worse, you couldn't help but go along with the green-haired man, guiding him through the streets towards the docks. The urgency of the situation fueled your pace, and as you turned a final corner, a grand pirate ship came into view. To your amazement, some very enthusiastic individuals, recognizable from the wanted posters plastered everywhere, were waving at Zoro and urging him to run onto the ship.

You might have assumed that Zoro would have let you go and abandoned you at some point, but to your surprise, he had you stick around. Soon enough, you found yourself on the deck of the pirate ship, met with perplexed and cautious stares from the crew. This wasn't the life you had envisioned, yet the appeal of friendship and adventures proved too compelling for you to resist.

As it turned out, your unique ability to heal with the simple power of song quickly earned you the role of healer on the ship. You often teamed up with Chopper, working together to mend the wounded, a category that frequently included Zoro. It seemed like he would intentionally find himself in dangerous situations just to give you an excuse to heal him. It became almost routine for Zoro to pull you aside for healing sessions. He would claim it was because "you're the faster healer" or "Chopper is busy with the others," but the way he stared at you with complete and utter infatuation as you sang hinted that there might be an underlying reason why he always sought you out.

Your relationship with Zoro had flourished during your time on the ship. While the two of you hadn't explicitly labeled it, an unspoken bond had formed, making you inseparable. It was clear to everyone around you that you and Zoro were meant to be. Your connection was so strong that it felt as if you were bound together for life. You, the enchanting songbird, had managed to melt the heart of the swordsman. It was a relationship that seemed almost too perfect to be true.

The shaky rhythm of Zoro's breath sliced through the air, the only accompaniment being the unsettling drip, drip, drip of crimson liquid splattering onto the floor from each painful gash on his body. His eyes threatened to give in to the darkness, the grip tampanoding his profusely bleeding wound weakening with every passing second, allowing more of the red tide to seep out. "She's close by," he reassured himself in a desperate whisper. "She will come and heal me, and everything will be okay." His vision blurred, the edges of consciousness fading, yet the approaching footsteps redirected his waning focus. Your silhouette emerged into view, and a feeble smile of relief played on his weakened lips.

You stood there, your body pulsating with the ache of injuries you had sustained from the battle. Exhaustion weighed heavily on your chest, each labored breath revealing your weariness. As you took in Zoro's dire state, a chill ran down your spine, and your hands trembled uncontrollably. The blood painted the wall against which he leaned, the pool he lay in enough to have claimed the life of an ordinary person by now.

In that moment, a wave of realization crashed over you, akin to what the previous user of your devil fruit must have experienced when confronted with the imminent death of that soldier. The only conceivable explanation for willingly sacrificing one's life in such a manner was love. Only someone who is deeply in love could find themselves doing what you were prepared to do.

Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump—thump... thump... thump...

Your heart beats in your ears, slow and steady, a sharp contrast to the urgency that surrounds you. Crouching down next to him, your knees bathe in the blood beneath you. You reach out and stroke his face, your voice cutting through the tense air as a sweet melody falls from your lips, “Long live the walls we crashed through, I had the time of my life with you…”

Your vision blurs slightly as you start to sing, and your voice wavers, but determination fuels your every word. Zoro's consciousness begins to steady, and his gaze focuses on you. He listens to the lyrics you sing, his smile quickly fading as he senses your growing unsteadiness. His own heartbeat starts to quicken, mirroring the vivid recollection of the last time he was this severely injured.

Your fingers gently comb through the emerald strands of the injured marimo, the sound of your singing soothing his pain, mending the cuts and bruises that adorned him. As his eyes gradually flutter open from the haze of injury, he gazes up at you, a soft smile spreading across his lips upon hearing the sound of your voice. This time felt different from his previous injuries; there was an abundance of blood, and the worry etched across your face reflected the urgency to reach him in time.

You knew you couldn't stop singing. You needed to heal him, but you also needed to talk to him, so your song took on a more serious shift in meaning as you sang. "Will you take a moment? Promise me this: that you’ll stand by me forever," you begin, your voice carrying a weight that matches the importance of this moment. His larger hand envelops yours, nodding in silent agreement. You continue, "but if, God forbid, fate should step in and force us into a goodbye," confusion knits Zoro's eyebrows, wondering the reason behind the unexpected shift in your melody.

You persist, “if you have children someday, when they point to the pictures, please tell them my name.” Your voice grew shaky as you continued, “Tell them how I hope they shine." Teardrops fall onto his concerned face, and he instinctively reaches up to wipe them away. The inevitability of this conversation weighed heavily on both your hearts, each word spoken a painful acknowledgment of the uncertainties life may hold.

In response, Zoro reassures you with a resolute voice, "I promise to stay with you forever, but you know fate won't dare step in and tear us apart. I won't allow it. You’re too important to me, and I swear that we will live out the rest of our lives together, and *you* will get to tell our kids all of these things, okay?" His words, a promise fueled by determination, aim to chase away the uncertainty of what lies ahead, providing comfort in the tomorrow that they both look forward to.

It's happening. Fate weaves its cruel design, guiding you toward that goodbye—a scenario Zoro strongly vowed would never come to pass. “Long live the walls we crashed through, how the kingdom lights shined just for me and you,” you continue, your voice quivering with an emotional strain that mirrors the tension in the air. The aura that your powers provide seem to shimmer with an magical quality as Zoro's wounds gradually fade, mirroring the slow, inescapable dimming of your own presence.

Your body slumps over, a proof of the draining strength within you. Stronger hands, Zoro's calloused and desperate, grasp your arms, pulling you close in a desperate attempt to defy the approaching reality. A gasp escapes you, the sound of your body's instinctive cling towards life.

“Stop… Stop this… I—I’m fine now, see? Chopper can just fix us up; you can stop now,” Zoro pleads, his voice quivering, the tremor reverberating through the air. His lip wobbles, tears teetering on the edge of escape. He knows the words he's uttering form a desperate attempt to go against the harsh reality. In this wretched moment, he attempts to make you hold onto your own life, to discourage you from the selfless act of sacrificing yourself to mend his wounds. Yet, the heavy truth hangs in the air—a truth that your fading form seems to convey with every passing moment.

Your breath is shaky, and a sudden weariness envelops you. Yet, his pleas, laced with unspoken desperation, don't deter you. ”Long live the walls we crashed through, how the kingdom lights shined just for me and you,” you sing softly, leaning onto him, a somber smile gracing your lips despite the impending farewell.

“Please stop…I love you, please don’t do this…” Zoro's whisper is almost a plea, his voice breaking as tears fall freely. He grasps your hand, squeezing it with a desperation that clings to the diminishing hope that both of you can somehow emerge unscathed from this ordeal.

“And I was screaming, ‘Long live all the magic we made’ and bring on all the pretenders…” Another wave of weakness washes over you, and your head falls limp onto his shoulder, “I'm not afraid.” you murmur, hoping the reassurance in your words might alleviate some of the weight on his shoulders among the unfolding tragedy. ”Long live all the mountains we moved…I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you.” With that final line, your voice softens, the melody fading into a whisper as your breaths grow shallower. The grip of Zoro's hand on yours tightens, desperately clinging to the waning connection. With each passing moment, your form dissolves into an ethereal glow. In desperation, Zoro reaches into the empty space that you once occupied, his trembling fingers grasping at nothingness, a denial of the harsh reality that you are gone. The ringing of your song linger in the hollow space, a haunting reminder of a love transcended beyond the boundaries of existence. Zoro, left with an aching emptiness, is now entangled in the flickers and fragments of a love that slipped away.

#one piece #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #angst #one piece zoro #zoro roronoa x reader

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perfectlywrongformend3s · 6 months

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Haunted-Conrad Fisher

A/N: I just had to write another one for Connie. I love Conrad so much, I think I like him better than Jere because I can kind of relate to him, but anyway on to the story. This is based off the song Haunted by Taylor Swift, but there won't be lyrics.

-Samantha

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was tanning by the pool when I saw Conrad walking up to the house. I immediately felt myself smile. I think he could tell I was staring because he looked up to meet my eyes.

" Hey, baby." I said

He stopped at the end of the lounge chair and gave me a smile. He then got closer which made me want to meet him in the middle. I finally felt his lips against mine and smiled into it. He pulled away and just admired me.

" You are so beautiful. I don't deserve you." he whispered

I let out a small gasp. I grabbed his hand. " I'm the one who doesn't deserve you. Cause you're so good to me."

I pulled him down to me, which made him fall. We both let out a groan, but then got more comfortable. I wrapped my arms around him while rubbing up and down his back. I felt him kiss my bare shoulder in response.

Conrad's POV

I could hear her heartbeat which was really calming me. I knew it was going to be super difficult when we parted because she makes me feel safe.

" I'm going to miss you so much when you leave." I whispered

She let out a sigh. " Hey Connie baby, please don't think about that right now. Plus I'm always a phone call away."

I smiled and nodded. I then snuggled more into her which had her wrapping around my body tighter. These are the moments I'm going to miss the most.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today was the day I was dreading ever since I knew it was time to leave the beach house. I don't want Y/n to leave even though I have Jere and my mom, I won't have them with me in college. I heard my door open so I looked in the mirror to find my beautiful girlfriend. I gave her a small smile. She walked up behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist. I then felt her leave a little kiss on my neck. I let out a sigh saying...

" I really don't want to say good-bye to you."

She gave me one last peck on the side of my neck before going around so she was looking directly at me. She smiled and placed her hands on the side of my face.

" Connie, I'm going to say this once. Don't think of this moment as a good-bye. I know we will see each other soon." She then leaned in and I could feel her breath. " I love you so much." I mumbled

She smiled, " I love you to the moon and back."

I then placed my lips on her until we got interrupted by Jere.

"Sorry guys, but um it's time."

I heard her sigh which made me just wrap her in a huge hug. She then pulled away because she knew I wouldn't be able to let her go.

" Come on Connie." she whispered

I watched her walk out of my room before grabbing the last of my stuff to follow her.

Your POV

I was watching everyone say their good-byes making me get sad again. I saw Jere walking my way so I gave him a sad smile.

" Hey, no being sad, cause you can always call me." He started wrapping his arms around me. I hugged him back before pulling away. I then felt someone wrap their arm from behind, and I automatically knew it was Conrad just from his cologne. He then kissed the side of my head.

" Don't forget about me Y/n/n." He whispered right by my ear

I let out a small giggle. " Never Connie."

We then shared a kiss one last time before I hugged Susanna. " I'll miss you so much." I whispered

She only responded with a tighter hug. She then pulled away and said. " Just make sure you are there for Connie."

I nodded my head, which made her smile before sending me off.

Jere's POV

I was watching Conrad admiring Y/n and thought how lucky he is. I'm glad he has her, I just wish Belly would see me instead of him.

" Hey Conrad?" I questioned

He turned to face me. " Yea?"

I smiled and told him, " You have an amazing girl. Just wanted to make sure you won't mess it up."

He let out a chuckle. " Jere, I can promise you. I'm not going to be letting her go any time soon."

I patted his back before walking back inside to check that I didn't forget anything.

Seven Months Later

Your POV

I was walking back to my dorm when I got a call from Conrad. I smiled to myself and immediately pushed the answer. " Hey Connie baby."

All I got was a noise back, which made me get confused before asking...

" Conrad, is everything okay?"

Right after I said that I got nothing. He hung up on me. I was shocked to say the least, so the next thing I did was call Jere.

Every time the phone rang I was getting more anxious because in my mind I thought our relationship was going well.

" Hey?"

I froze thinking if I called the right person. " Who is this?"

" This is Justin." he said

" Um okay, is Jere around?" I questioned rubbing my face

" Yeah" He said and I could hear him start moving around

I was growing more anxious by the minute. " Hey"

I let out a sigh of relief. " Jere, thank god. I don't know what's going on with Conrad. He called me, but didn't say anything. He just hung up on me and he never does that."

Before I could continue, Jere spoke up. " Y/n/n breath. Where are you?"

I took a minute to calm down. " Um, outside my dorm building."

" Okay good, and Conrad has just been going through tough times. I know he'll come around."

I could feel air going back into my lungs so I said...

" Thanks for being here Jere."

" You're Welcome, and never forget that I'm just a phone call away."

Conrad's POV

All I could think about was how much it would hurt her. I never met for this to happen, but I started losing hope for my relationship with Y/n. I know Jere said not to hurt her, but it would make it worse if I lied every time we say I love you when I don't feel the same way. I took a deep breath before grabbing my phone to text her.

Your POV

I was now sitting at my desk doing some homework when my phone went off. I picked it up to find Conrad texted me. I felt myself smile, but that soon dropped when I read the first words.

'I'm losing feelings. I know this might be a shock to you, but I'm not saying it's anything you did. This is all me. You were the best. I'm just not feeling the spark anymore.'

I didn't even know what to say to the message because I could physically feel my heart break in half. All I could think of was how happy we were. I always thought we would be together for the rest of our lives. Knowing that I lost the best thing is killing me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All right um, I’m not sure how I feel about the ending. I'm just hoping this all makes sense in my head, but let me know you want to see anything with Conrad or anybody. I'll write it, but it might take me a little bit.

Thank you to everyone who reads these!

-Samantha

#conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher #conrad fisher angst #Conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x y/n #Conrad fisher x #mine #angst #the summer i turned pretty

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callieyanderechan · 8 months

Text

JAMES POTTER X SWIFTIE!READER

When you first start dating he is so fucking confused

Poor baby

Obviously he knew who Taylor Swift was, but he always thought she was just a popular singer

For a good month he thought she was actually a cult leader

Was planning how to get you out of said cult

You had to explain to him that you where in fact NOT part of a cult after he set up an intervention for you and Sirius

because Sirius is definitely your swiftie bestie which just confuses James to no end

"Y/N, I love you b-"

"I love you too Jamie 🥰"

"Thank you love, but I cannot sit back and let you and my best mate, my brother, let yourselfs be consumed by this cult"

"Cult?"

"I know you probably don't realise it now but this is for your own good. I will NOT let Taylor Swift control you like this!"

You and Sirius have a good laugh because....

He actually thought you where in a cult

You explain that you are not in a cult, you just really really like Taylor Swift

He isn't fully convinced it isn't a cult because you literally seem to know everything about this women

You point out that he knows basically everything about his favourite quidditch player

Moment of realization.......

After that slight mistake he trys to learn about Taylor for you

His favourite song? Shake It off

Is he aware that it's literally her most popular song?

Yes

Does he care?

Not even a little bit, he likes dancing to it so it's his favourite

Spent like a year trying to find a folklore cardigan for you ❤️

He got it......

His favourite ex is Taylor Lautner and his favourite era is 1989

Is signed up to the Taylor Swift store updates/newsletter and checks his email religiously

New special edition of a vinyl you already own?

Consider it yours

New Cardigan dropped?

Ready to be unpacked when you get home

Era's tour tickets?

This man was in that Ticketmaster line for HOURS

Him & Remus where both trying to get tickets for you & Sirius

Good boyfriends

He felt like he was going into WWIII

Him & Remus where both at the dining table with enough water and snack to last them all day

They where not leaving that dining table until they had tickets

And they got them!

When he told you he got you tickets? He would go through that Ticketmaster line all over again just to see you that happy

When he found out he could DRESS UP for the show?

He was planning basically everyday for MONTHS

Wanted you and him and Remus and Sirius to match but Taylor only has 3 cats.....

So instead you two where Miss Americana and The Heartbreak prince

Did he think it was a bit basic? Kinda but you both looked nice and he got to trade bracelets with loads of people so he was happy

He happily listens to you talk about everything happening to Taylor currently

Disgusted that people showed up at Jack Antonoffs wedding just to see Taylor?

He's right there with you, muttering and scoffing about how awful they are

Complaining about Ashley?

He doesn't know who that is but he will LEARN GODDAMNIT AND HE WILL COMPLAIN ABOUT HER TOO

Overall when he gets over his thoughts of it being a cult he is a super supportive swiftie boyfriend

#callieyanderechan #harry potter #harry potter x reader #marauders era #the marauders #marauders #marauders x reader #the marauders x reader #Y/N #james potter #marauders headcanon #james potter headcanon #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x reader headcanon #taylot swift #swifties #swiftie!reader

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starkskeep · 1 year

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Right when I felt the moment stop (r. stark)

Right when I felt the moment stop r. stark imagine

Pt. 2 of Oh, all I used to do was pray

Pairings - Robb Stark x female!Reader

Summary - Robb Stark and the rest of his family bear the consequences of their actions toward you.

Word Count - 1,899 words

Warnings - Angst, violence, mention of infidelity, mention of an animal attack

Songs I listened to while writing: mad woman, Right Where You Left Me (Taylor Swift) Washing Machine Heart (Mitski)

Jon was in the courtyard when he caught sight of Arya and Rickon rushing in on horseback. He had been trying to avoid Robb after their confrontation so he avoided going over to his younger siblings as Robb and Catelyn were trying to figure out what happened. Instead, Jon watched from the side.

"Rickon, Arya, what happened? Are you alright?" Catelyn's voice is comforting, but the look in her eyes screams one word: What happened?

Arya whispers, still in shock, “Rickon and I were in the Wolfswood. We were surprised by Ramsay Bolton and his men. They were talking about using us for ransom or hurting us to get back at Robb. Then Y/n showed up. She used a rock to distract the guards holding me and Rickon. Y/n told us to take her horse and ride back to Winterfell.”

Jon walked up to the group after he heard the commotion. He spoke urgently as he heard your name but did not see you after scanning the courtyard. “Y/n? Where is she now?”

The look of dread on Arya and Rickon’s faces is enough to confirm the worst.

Catelyn holds back her instincts and tries to remain calm so as not to frighten her children. She takes deep breaths and looks at her eldest son. “Robb, this is very bad. You need to do something.”

Jon speaks up quickly, cutting off Robb’s response. There isn’t time for him to be respectful, even if his brother could take his head as the king. “I’m taking men and I am going to search the Wolfswood for her. This is Ramsay. We may already be too late. He thrives off the pain of others.” Jon immediately goes to round up some men and head off.

Robb stares after Jon. He can’t believe what he has just heard. You would risk your life for Robb’s siblings after how they all treated you?

Jon and the men with him come upon the clearing that Ramsay and his men were obviously just at. Although, it may just be Ramsay now. There were several bodies strewn, bloodied with scratches and bite marks. By the luck of the gods, your body is not among those fallen but it means you are most likely alone with Ramsay. The rescue party continues on by following tracks left in the snow. Farther into the forest, there is a fallen bear with arrows embedded in it. This is obviously the animal that killed Ramsay’s men.

A shrill scream sends Jon and the men running toward the sound. They end up at the bank of a frozen river. Ramsay has you trapped against him, a dagger held to your throat. The fear and panic were quite clear in your eyes, even from all the way across the river.

“Hello, bastard. I see you’re still at the beck and call of your brother. It’s unfortunate that he won’t be here to see as I slit his wife’s throat, although from what I hear, he would probably thank me for doing so. Be sure to describe in detail the events that happened. I would hate for him to be left wondering. Shame the other two runts escaped. I’ll be sure to make your good sister’s death painful for the loss she caused me.” Ramsay sneered as he pulled you tighter against him.

As Ramsay was distracted by his taunting of Jon, your good brother subtly directed one of the men to move to his side of Ramsay. The soldier pulled back his bow and sent an arrow flying right into Ramsay’s side. This caused Ramsay to let go of you, unfortunately slicing your collarbone as he fell. The impact of his body against the river ice created fissures in the frozen water. Jon went to step onto the ice in order to get you to safety.

“Wait! Don’t—“ Your words were cut off when the pressure created a crack so large that the ice beneath you broke and sent you into the cold river. You frantically tried to get back onto the ice but could not maintain a grip on the slippery surface. You fell back into the water and the current swept you underneath the ice. Jon immediately sprung into action and sprinted onto the ice, jumping over broken slabs while still trying to be as light as he could. By sheer luck, Jon was able to reach an area in front of your path and break through the ice. He hauled you to safety and rushed back to the group. They were smart enough to have a cloak ready to wrap you in and bundled you onto a horse. Everyone set off to Winterfell.

When Jon made it back through the gates of Winterfell, he ignored the questions from everyone. His only focus was on getting you to a maester. Once you were being tended to, Jon turned to his family. They had followed him to your chambers and were waiting to hear what had happened to you.

When Jon spoke, his voice was deeply serious. “The men and I found y/n being held by Ramsay on the river. His men had been attacked and killed by a bear. Only he and she escaped the animal. We were able to kill Ramsay. He sliced her collarbone as she fell. The wound isn’t deep enough to kill her but she fell into the river when the ice broke. I tried to get to her as quick as I could. She was breathing as I brought her back but she was pale. So pale. Her lips were blue. I don’t know what will happen to her now.”

Robb nods his head as Jon explains, he has to know. ”Do you think she'll make it?" He knows this is a question only the Maester can answer, but he wants to hear it for himself. And right now, he wants nothing more than to hear good news.

Jon glares at Robb and spits out, “We wouldn’t have to worry about that if she hadn’t left Winterfell because of you.”

Robb's face pales, and his expression turns to anger. He hadn't expected Jon to lash out at him, and his mouth opens and closes as he tries to respond. He looks down at the ground and away from his brother, clearly ashamed. Robb knows that Jon is right but he doesn’t yet want to admit that out loud.

You woke up a week later. The maester had healed you to the best of his abilities but you were still quite weak. When you awoke, you were confused as to where you were and what had happened to you. You were even more confused when you saw Robb sitting beside the bed you were lying in.

“My lord husband. I…I” You say as you try to push yourself up.

Robb looks down at you, his face full of mixed emotions. He is grateful that you are alive, but he knows the damage the attack from Ramsay has done to you. You look... unwell. He puts his hand on yours and his expression is soft. “Y/n, don't try to get up. The maester has tended to you as best he can, but you need to rest in order to heal. You nearly died, and you need to let yourself recover. Is there anything you need? A... any water?”

You pull your hand away from Robb’s and recoil slightly as you bring your hand close to your chest. Your eyes don’t leave Robb, watching him warily and expecting him to blame you for the events that happened. “No. I’m fine, your grace.”

Robb sees your hand slide away and he pulls his own hand back with a disappointed expression on his face. He stares at his lap, upset at himself that he couldn't do more to help you, and hurt by the fact that she doesn't want anything from him. What else could he do? His eyes drift to the door, and he gives a quick nod to the guard outside. The guard nods back and leaves the room, closing the door behind him and leaving you and your husband alone in the room.

You speak up in order to make this interaction less awkward. “Are Arya and Rickon alright? Did they get back to Winterfell safely?”

Robb's face drops when you ask this. He nods and forces himself to smile. Don't show her your pain. "They are alright. Don't worry about them, y/n.” He forces himself to smile again, but his voice is shaking. After a moment, he closes his eyes and takes a breath. When he opens them again, he looks at you more steadily. "But now, I must worry about you.”

You brush aside Robb’s concern. The thought of your husband suddenly caring for you after mostly ignoring you for the past six months makes you wary and uncomfortable. The fact that he is only now showing concern after you almost died makes you angry. “You do not need to, your grace. There are many more important things for you to be doing. The maester has everything under control.”

Robb is shocked. For a moment, this makes him angry, that his own good intentions didn't mean anything to you. After a deep breath, Robb speaks again, “Y/n, that was an unkind thing to say. I'm trying to make you feel better, and you just..." Robb bites his lip and looks down at the bed. He is at a loss for words. He looks back up at you and asks again. “Y/n is there anything I could get you? Anything…" Robb is practically begging you at this point.

Your face hardens for a brief second before it slips into an expressionless mask, “You’re right. You are my lord husband. I should not have spoken out of turn. I merely worry that you have many tasks already. It is a wife’s job to care for her husband but it is not the husband’s job to care for his wife.”

Robb's face has a mixture of irritation and shock etched upon it. it. He can't tell if you are making fun of him or not, but either one is enough to make him boil over with anger. “How can you say such a thing? I am not some cold lord who has a wife only as a showpiece. I am not like him." He spat out in disgust. “Y/n, what is this? Do you want to be alone? I’m trying to be a better husband here.”

You begin to sob and the maester interrupts you and Robb out of concern for your health. The old maester speaks as he ushers Robb out of the tower, “My lord. You need to let the lady rest. She can’t be put under such emotional distress. Please leave and come back once your wife has recovered a bit more.”

Robb feels his expression falter as he sees the tears running down your cheeks, and he turns his gaze to the floor. He feels a sharp pierce of shame in his chest as he realizes what he has put you through, and he nods to the maester.

"I... I understand." He says, looking at the older man and then back to you before turning to leave. He leaves the room slowly, quietly, and with a heavy heart.

Next Part

#robb stark fanfic #robb stark imagine #robb stark #robb stark x reader #got x reader #got imagine #king of the north

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pearl-tarotist · 1 year

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Author's note: This PAC is inspired by Anna Karenina (movie 2012). In the story Anna feels she is being stripped off her honor as she falls in love with a man that's not her husband. She has an affair that, even if it's against her senses, makes her fall in love with Vronsky. The PAC will answer what absurd, non-logical and senseless happiness your spouse and you will feel when being together (even if you feel you are leaving behind your morals and logic).

I love this movie so much I just hope I am able to reflect in this PAC one percent of what the movie made me feel.

PILE 1

New experiences and adventures make both of you feel closer. The development of projects that are still unfinished, the celebration and ecstasy of hopes makes both of you feel one. The intimacy of creating something together while it is not finished offers both of you the opportunity to relax in a time of peace where you both are unaware of the result of it, without having to worry about if the end is going to be a disappointment or not.

The indecision of which project must be the final or which path will be sailed to rock will lend both of you space to breath and enjoy the small things of your relationship: the kisses, the touches, the secret affairs of midnight and the moans spilled in each other’s mouths…

This will be unwilling to the female side as they could be more logical and efficient. She could enjoy the moments with her husband a lot but then she has the guilt of not being efficient and controlling. She has opposite feelings of pleasure and disappointment, indecisive of what’s good or bad.

I see this as fight between doing things correctly and enjoy lust and love. Probably, your relationship could start as a friends with benefit situation or a forbidden love.

“Sometimes she did not know what she feared, what she desired: whether she feared or desired what had been or what would be, and precisely what she desired, she did not know.”

Song recommended: Illicits afairs – Taylor swift.

PILE 2

There’s guilt over starting a new life with your future spouse. There will be a transformation that will make you leave your past life behind, to the point of moving and not coming back. Being happy itself is what makes you feel guilty. I think you or your fs will be guilty for leaving whatever you both are leaving behind, even it was not good. Still, these will make you happy and will make you feel as if you are maturating and evolving in your life. Happiness will surpass the guilt, but, of course, it won’t make it disappear.

Nevertheless, you will be happy when good things happen to you and the way both of you will explore romance will be be emotionally rewarding. Specially, the male side will have a splendid way with words that will elevate the most normal situations to the most romantic ones. I feel that your spouse will be the one forcing the moving too. Maybe, he feels at blame for “forcing” you to move and he will try to balance it being more attentive and meticulous. Even more pointed, he will gift you flowers, roses…

There will be a bit of self – destruction and self-created crisis from your part to try to justify these “bad” or nor-pleasing feelings. And even in those, when you both are fighting, you will feel happy to be next to your spouse.

“Rummaging in our souls, we often dig up something that ought to have lain there unnoticed.”

PILE 3

This couple is probably the nastiest one! There’s something that will be kept a secret that will make both of you extremely happy. This stuff will be kept a secret and that’s probably what makes both of you guilty, not being able to express what you truly are or what you truly like to others.

TW: Mentions of sex, 18+.

Now, in reference to the stuff…I think it’s probably sexual stuff. Both of you could be really kinky and adventurers in the 18+ ambience, it could even be something non-moral to the general public (never surpassing certain limits, you know?). Probably, cnc, an open marriage or maybe, even some of you are cheaters… For the majority I do not think it could be cheaters as the cards do not indicate pain or betrayals…

In conclusion, both of you together could enjoy things that are not as moral or “politically correct” to the normal public, so you both keep them as a secret. These are the type of things that should NEVER be spoken of in familiar meals/meetings.

“All the variety, all the charm, all the beauty of life is made up of light and shadow.”

#PAC: What makes your FS and you happy (even against your wills)?#fs tarot #future spouse tarot #tarot #love tarot #future spouse #pick a pile #pick a photo #pac #free tarot readings #free tarot #tarot reading #love reading #ana karenina #anna karenina

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javispunk · 9 months

Note

Hii, so I saw an edit on tiktok of joel to i can see you by Taylor Swift on the background and i was wondering if you could do something based on that? Maybe like inspired by the lyrics and the moments between them that relate to those lyrics? But feel free to so it as you imagine it!!! Thx S2

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZM2C5KGbd/

Yes! I saw this edit and was thinking of doing something inspired on it and Taylor’s song, at least now I have an excuse to actually do it! This screams dbf!joel, so I had to do it. Thank you so much for the request :) I hope you enjoy it. Let me know if you’d like any other kind of version on it, or some kind of series on this?? Thank you for the support.

I can see you

Summary: You’ve been in Jackson for about a couple years now and you’ve always seen Joel go on about his days, filled with patrol duty or just casually at the cafeteria. Either way, and oblivious at first, you see each other. One night at the bar, you confirm your doubts.

Pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

Content/Warnings: +18 smut (minors don’t interact!), age gap (Joel is in his early 50s, reader is in her mid twenties), fingering, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex (p in v).

Notes: This is a bit long, I got carried away. It’s also a bit of a slow burn but bare with me! Please excuse any mistake, as english is not my first language. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! Leave any requests you’d like me to write :)

You kept to yourself at Jackson since you joined in a couple years ago. You had a few people you could call friends and rely on. Besides them, your dad was also a good call. He always made sure to provide anything for you. You weren’t a child anymore, not even close to it. But you were his only daughter and that would be enough.

There would also be no effort made on your part to make more acquaintances, and that’s fine, that’s just the way you were. The people you usually had gatherings with would be your dad’s friends. And being a social butterfly, he had a few of them. But Joel Miller was his most relying one. He was a little bit younger than your dad, but they still found ways to share common interests. They’d do patrol duty together, always make way to eventually do a Saturday night dinner at yours or his - either the three of you or with more guests. You also learned about Joel’s loss and grief very quickly, something you could relate with.

For more than a year now you’ve felt safe with these people. Never once you got to complain about them, nor they did regarding you. Tonight it was just you, your dad and Joel at the dinner table. The usual setting of the table, familiar by now - your dad at your right, Joel at the other end, opposite from you.

“It should be alright if we get there by 5.” Joel spoke as he continued putting food on his fork. His signature plaid flannel shirt falling on top of his shoulders on a way that was now familiar to you.

"I'll be there sooner if I can get an early night." Your dad held the plate in his hand as he tried to collect more food from the table center. "I'm sure Adam will be there if I let him know." You received a gaze from your father as he spoke once again. "By the way, he told me he left you a message at the bar. Have you talked to him?"

"Dad... c'mon." You kept looking at your plate before turning your eyes to both man at the table.

"What? He's a great guy, he's your age. Great sense of responsability, I've seen how he handles work."

"Well, that's great for him. I don't see what that has to do with me."

Joel chuckled at your statement, still looking down at his plate. Your dad looked at him. "Honestly, I don’t understand this kid.”

Even though you were in your mid twenties your dad insisted on calling you kid, kiddo, any type of derivative.

“Well” you began as you collected your plate. “This kid has work in half an hour. I’ll just do the dishes and then go.” You headed to the kitchen with a sarcastic smile.

Once you put down your plate in the kitchen counter, you supported the weight of your body on it with both your hands. You sighed with frustration. Eyes closed, head down. The amount of hours you did the previous week at the bar left you restless and honestly wishing for a week worth of sleep. A few minutes passed, and you stayed like this. Silence prevailed until you heard Joel’s voice behind you.

“Got two more.”

“Fuck.” You jumped at the sudden voice, looking briefly at him, going back to the kitchen counter the next second.

“Sorry.” He quickly spoke. His body relatively close to yours, placing both plates on the sink. “Here, I’ll do that.” He took the sponge from your hand, slightly touching it.

There were several moments of tension between you and Joel over the last year or so. Usually cordial and kind moments like these, but they were filled with tension, you were not sure if it was sexual, but it felt so for you. Joel was at least 20 years older than you, you were not sure about his age. In a matter of seconds you recalled all of these encounters. The way he’d wait down the hall for you, or the way he’d always try to brush past you whenever you were in the same room. You would notice how he would make conversation with you whenever he could, how he would shower you with gifs - actual cool and useful gifs - how he payed attention to your interests, or how he'd get protective whenever he felt you were in some kind of danger.

"So you don't like Adam." he asked, mid-chuckle, while grabbing some soap.

You put your hand on your head, slightly embarrased. "Well..." You also looked in the direction of the dining room, searching for your dad.

"Your dad went to the neighbours. He said something about a favour. He'll be back soon enough." He noted.

You looked at him with your mouth slightly opened in a form of response, before speaking again. "Adam's alright. A bit insistent. My dad always makes a stand on the matter of relationships, I'm not sure why."

"You're almost what? 26? He probably wants you to get married. I got married around your age. That's how we'd do it in Texas."

You looked at the man's back. You didn't know much about his past. He had no pictures of his ex wife in his house. You knew he had a daughter before the world went to shit. That was the extent of knowledge you had about his grief and sorrow. Ellie would have filled some of the void in his life. But besides that, Joel was a lonely man.

"I'd get married if it wasn't the end of the world. Or if there was someone interesting around here." You laughed.

Joel followed your action, closing the running water tap. "I'm sure you'll find him." He chuckled, looking at you as he dried his hands with a cloth handtowel.

"Besides, I'm great on my own." Your voice raising an octave.

“I’m sure you are." His eyes on you. "Do you need a ride? It's freezing outside."

You shook your head no, while grabbing the coat propped on the back of the chair. "It's just a few minutes walk, I'll be fine. It will be even colder when I close at 1am. But thank you." You smiled his way.

He nodded his head, hands on his hips.

***

The clock marked half past midnight when you first looked at it since you entered the bar. You didn't stop to breathe since you started serving drinks at 8pm, walking from one corner of the bar to the other in a fast pace. The bar was usually filled with middle aged men, a few younger people, about your age, casually sitting in groups over a few tables. You sipping a few drinks once in a while over the hours without anyone noticing.

You think about the small amount of time you still have to work while you go around the counter and collect the empty beer bottles on the nearest table. You grab the cloth hanging from your shoulder only to wide your hands on it, before you make your way behind the counter again, your back against it.

"A whisky if it's not too much trouble." You heard Joel's voice.

You quickly turned around, a smile appearing, plastered on your face without you noticing. "Hi!" You swifted the counter dry in front of him. "What are you doing here? I thought you started work at 5." You started preparing his drink.

Joel slightly shrugged both shoulders, before removing his jacket and propping it on the stool next to him. "Couldn't sleep. How's your shift going?"

"Alright. A few drunk men making a mess, but that's mandatory."

You grabbed his glass and started pouring the honey coloured liquid.

"But you can put them in their place."

"I don't have a choice." You supported your body on your elbows, leaning on top of the counter in front of Joel. The cleavage on your shirt open and exposed to his sight, as you felt his eyes directly on it. You held his drink in your hand, giving it to him in a nonchalant movement. The alcohol probably getting to your head at this point of the night, just the slightest - you were sure the rest was your attraction to the older man.

You watched Joel's eyes on you, before he moved them up to your own. He coughed before speaking, in a way of disguising his actions. "Thank you."

You smiled, noticing his stunned tone. "You're welcome."

You would never have this behaviour at dinner nights of course. Here, where everyone was a little drunk and honestly, wouldn't remember parts of the night, you felt this urge to mess with him. You knew he kind of like you by the way he would move next to you, by the way he'd speak directly to you, the words he would use when no one else was hearing.

You held your place in front of Joel. Him taking a sip of his drink as the ice clinked when the glass turned on his hand. Eyes locked on yours. You noticed the bar emptying slowly, but surely.

"Would you mind giving me a ride home? I have to close the bar and by then it should be pretty late."

"It's alright sweetheart." he spoke after ungluing his mouth from the glass which was now resting on the counter, him looking at your smug expression, which earned a half upward smile from him, before looking at your eyes again.

"Thank you." You touched his arm in a thanking gesture, leaving your hand over it much more time than it was needed to. You never touched him. It even felt like a challenge, something that was forbidden to do. His skin was soft even though his figure looked rough from working everyday out on the cold weather on patrol duty.

His eyes looking down at your efforts, while he held his drink in front of his mouth the whole time. You eventually moved away from him, continuing your work.

You took care of the wet glasses, cleaning them, your back leaning against the back counter of the bar, facing Joel. Every few seconds your eyes would be on top of him, while you wiped dry the cups, moving your fingers in a slight but surely suggestive manner. You were not doing anything wrong. You were far away from Joel, just doing your work. Behind him, still in the distance, you saw a man approach the counter. Adam.

"Hey." He looked at you with a wide smile, hands on the counter, not noticing the man sat beside him right away. "Oh, hello Mr. Miller. How are you?"

Joel slightly raised his glass at the kid, hoping that would be enough of an answer to his question. His broad shoulders square, looking foward, miding his own business.

You also noticed the last group of people leaving their booth, putting down the money on top of the table for you to collect it.

"Hey, we're almost closing but can I make you anything?" You asked him.

"Hum, not really. I gathered you didn't get the message I left you back there." He looked over at Joel for a second, before continuing. "I wanted to know if you'd like to go to the movie night next friday? They're going to show that movie you wanted to see at the theatre."

Your mouth opened before you grabbed another glass to clean. "I'd love to, but I think I'm doing a night shift on friday. Sorry."

"I heard that movie is great." Joel's voice muffled from the glass on his hand.

You looked at him, watching his smug smile covered by it. He was doing this on purpose.

"I'm sure it is. But have fun, I think the group from the cafeteria wanted to go."

"Next time then." Adam tucked at the sleeve on his jacket. "Tomorrow I get off work around midday, if you're free for lunch."

You were free, but had no intention on agreeing on his plan. But for the love of God, you could not find a single excuse to get yourself out of this situation. You noticed the younger man's face, hesitant. As soon as Joel noticed your silence, he spoke, still facing his glass, now almost empty.

"Actually, I'm gonna need your help until later. We'll have lunch outside Jackson." Joel saved your night with a simple phrase.

Adam looked at Joel with a disappointed expression. "Well, alright. I'll come by and let you know when-"

"You should go home, kid." Joel interrumpted him. "We got an early shift tomorrow." He looked in his direction for the first time since he appeared uninvited.

"Yes, sir. I'll be there." He agreed, before turning to you. "Do you need a ride? It's awfully cold outside."

Joel put his drink down and got up. "Let's go kid." He grabbed him not so gently but still not roughly by the jacket, putting an arm around his shoulders, turning him away from you and guiding him through the front door. Once he put the young man outside, he closed the door behind him and spoke from a distance. "You're already closing right?"

"Thank you for that." You continued to tidy everything behind the counter, as Joel made his way to you across the bar. "Am I supposed to marry him?"

"If you really want to." He entered the space only reserved for staff. "I'll help you with that."

"You don't have to."

"I know, but it'll be a lot quicker and we can get you home."

You smiled. "Thanks, I'll just finish some things out in the back."

You ran to the kitchen, hoping to get a moment for yourself. Did Joel help you just out of good heart? That didn't seem like something he'd do. Maybe because you were his best friend's daughter - he was just trying to be nice.

After a while you heard his voice behind you, for the second time that night. "You know, he would be a nice husband. He can almost kill a few clickers without screaming if he puts his mind to it."

"Shut up." You laughed, throwing him a napkin you had at hand, still trying to finish your work duties.

Joel grabbed it in the air, laughing along with you. He scrunched it up in his hand, approaching you and almost connecting your bodies together - your back touching his front, as he placed the napkin on the table in front of you. Arms next to each side of you, hands placed on the edge of the table, where he supported his body's weight.

Your heart started beating and you swore Joel could hear it, because his behaviour was too bold to be natural.

"But you don't wanna marry him, do you?" His voice was low and you could feel the vibration from his tone on your back.

"No, not really." It seemed like he was waiting for something from you. A sign to act his next move, without being criticised. It almost felt like he was afraid. Afraid of you not feeling the same. Not wanting the same.

Your body tensed under his. His presence hovering above you. He was significantly bigger than you. Fuck, you thought. He smells like sandalwood and the whiskey you gave him earlier. You were almost intimidated to turn around, so you decided not to.

"So you're all shy now." You watched his hands shift on the table top, before moving them to your lower stomach.

Your heart felt like it would break free from your ribcage. You looked down at his hands holding you in place. They looked huge on your body.

You turned around suddenly, trying to play his game. Your hands behind your body. "What do you mean?" You put on your best innocent smile.

You saw him do the same. You noticed his eyes were the most gorgeous you'd ever seen when he raised his eyebrows before speaking, hands now on your waist. "I mean how you made me hard under that counter top back there."

You rolled your eyes in response, while you shrugged your shoulders. "Couldn't really notice. But I do now." Your hand flew to the bulge in his pants.

A laugh came creeping in his tone. "Careful, sweetheart."

"Why?" Your head up, looking at his face from underneath.

You both stared into each other's eyes with doubt on your expression. You decided to break the hesitation, gluing your lips to his. The taste of whiskey still prominent on his mouth, as he slid his tongue inside your mouth.

Your hands immediately on the back of his head. One of his on the lower of your back and the other on your ass, putting you on top of the table. You opened your legs to wrap them around him, Joel immediately erasing the gap between you both.

His hands running from the top of your back to the back of your thigh, holding it in place around his waist.

"You have no idea how long I waited to touch you." He spoke once you both pulled back for air.

"You're gonna relive your little fantasies or do something about it?" You asked as you started to unbotting your pants while looking his way.

He immediately replaced your hands with his, taking your jeans off in a swift motion. Your shirt followed quickly. He left your paneis still on, just putting them to the side before sliding his middle finger in your slick folds. He laughed as he felt how wet you were, before inserting his finger in you. You whimpered as you felt his rough calloused skin inside your cunt, moving up and down inside you. You moaned his name quietly, trying to hold on your excitement. It seemed like his knees gave in on him as soon as he heard his name coming from your lips.

"Say my name again." You heard him ask.

"Joel..." You moaned louder when he added one more finger inside you.

"Sounds so good coming from your pretty little mouth." His thumb rubbing soft circles on your clit as he kept fucking you with his fingers.

Your eyes rolled back in protest. The amount of pleasure building on your stomach was like something you've never felt before. He began to curl his fingers and you made a gutural sound with your throat, head falling back.

Joel got on his knees and placed both hands on each side of your pelvic area, holding both your legs between his biceps and forearms. You felt a void, missing the friction his fingers stimulated inside you.

"Please." You begged him.

"Please what, sweet girl?" His head between your legs, looking you up, mouth dangerously close to your core.

"Please, make me cum." Your voice came out almost in a whisper. But it was more than enough for Joel.

His lips connecting to your core, kissing it gently first, focusing on your clit. You were a mess of whimpers under his touch as he gently made out with your cunt, visibily holding himself not to get out of his pants and fuck you right then and there. Sucking on your clit, he then moved on to your entrance, sliding his tongue inside you, licking your core from bottom to top.

He was good. Joel kept his hands on your lower stomach, trying to hold you still as you moved under his touch. It was unnerving the amount of pleasure he provided you with. You never once had your body react like this.

You looked down at him, entertained in his own little paradise. He was truly intoxicated by the scent of your skin, the feel of your core, the wetness you had started to drip a few minutes ago.

He kept his rhythm steady and intense at the same time.

"Fuck." You kept moaning as you looked down at his face between your legs. Every now and then he looked up at you and the tight knot on your stomach would grow. The look of lust in his eyes enough to make you cum. "Joel, I'm- I'm-"

"I know sweet girl, you're so close." You felt the vibrations from his voice on your pussy. "Best fucking thing I've ever tasted in my life."

That did it for you. Your orgasm loosen and spread through your entire body, your legs shaking as Joel held them tighter, keeping his tongue on you, making you enjoy your high. Your head was thrown back, your hands behind your back on top of the table, supporting the weight of your now numb body. You kept your eyes closed for a while, feeling your body tensen up and resting for a while.

You felt one of Joel's hand grabbing you by the lower of your back, helping you with supporting your body weight as he noticed you couldn't do it yourself.

"So fucking beautiful." He spoke while unbuttoning and dropping down his jeans with his spare hand. With his help now, you could use your hands. You took his flannel off, before ripping his underwear down his thighs, his lenght shot right up, hard as a rock, bouncing on its own weight.

You felt your cunt pulse once again, still sensitive from your previous orgasm. One of your hands held his cock, pulling him closer to you. You heard Joel moan as he felt your hand moving up and down him.

"You like that." You stated. Not even a question. You were letting him know you knew. With your legs slightly up, around his waist, you positioned his length on your entrance slowly, making him eager for your warmth.

Once you got his tip inside you, he couldn't control himself, pushing his cock inside you slowly and deeply. It was out of your control now.

"Fuck, Joel." You screamed as you felt him stretch you wide.

He panted above you. "Shit..." he mumbled to himself, as he looked down, seeing himself dissapear inside you with each thrust. "You feel so fucking good."

Once you got used to his girth, you felt Joel fasten his pace. He was hitting your g-spot every single time he slapped his hips on your ass. The clapping sounds making him go feral. Holding one of your legs up with his arm for better positioning, Joel kissed you again with urgency. You left your mouth hang open against his when he once again fasten his pace, letting him know you were enjoying it by letting a whimper come out every time he thrusted inside you.

"Prettiest fucking thing. Let me see your pretty face when you cum." He mumbled against your open mouth.

You felt your second orgasm creep on you. His words took you to the absolute edge. His low voice making them feel like velvet. It didn't take long for you to feel that explosion of pleasure inside you. Your whole body shaking for the second time. Your ecstasy face putting him on the edge.

He quickly pulled himself out of you, letting his warm release hit your chest, running down your tummy after a few seconds of kissing each other. You wouldn't let go. You physically couldn't get enough of each other. His hand still grabbing the back of your neck, to keep you close to him. Your hands tangled on his hair. Both of your breathings slowing down as a few minutes passed just making out in an endearing way.

Your foreheads glued to each other as you panted together.

"Please come pick me up more often after closing shifts."You laughed and he followed.

"I'll do anything you want me to."

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