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#i really didn’t have time today for much
vroomvro0mferrari · 3 days
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LN4 | Dutch Courage
Summary: When Max Verstappen invites Lando to celebrate King’s Day with him, he can hardly refuse. Especially when it’s a great opportunity to spend time with the Dutch man’s sister.
Lando Norris x Verstappen!Reader
WC: 2.9K
Warnings: Alcohol (over)consumption
Masterlist
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The first time Lando really came in contact with the Dutch culture was during his first Dutch Grand Prix. The atmosphere of the race, the enthusiasm of the people, and the taste of stroopwafels immediately made him like the Netherlands. When Max introduced him to more Dutch traditions and told him about the extreme celebrations of the King’s birthday, he couldn’t believe it. His experiences with the Queen’s birthday were completely different, much more sophisticated and ceremonial than the Dutch celebrations. You could say he was gobsmacked when he saw the videos; people dressed all in orange, filling the streets and canals, drunkenly partying like it was a festival. When Max extended an invitation to join him next April, Lando accepted straight away, eager to experience the unique tradition.
And so, next April 27th, Lando found himself in Amsterdam. He was passing tons of people stalling out their stuff on blankets, sitting on folding chairs by their improvised shops. They were all dressed in orange, of course. Lando, himself, had also adhered to the dress code. Sporting his orange hoodie, he’s ready to party all day long.
Lando made his way through the city, Google maps opened on his phone as he navigated the streets of Amsterdam. Luckily, Max’s apartment building was easy to find. Lando rang the doorbell, grinning when he spotted his Dutch friend. Lando could already hear the noise coming from the apartment while he greeted Max, the sound of music and singing passing through the walls.
“Hey man, what’s up?” He asked.
“Nothing much. What about you?” Max responded while welcoming Lando into his second home, leading him into the hallway.
Lando was about to answer his question, but the unexpected sight in the living room disrupted his train of thought. A confused frown etched itself onto his face, and he asked, “Why are there so many girls in your house? Don’t you have a girlfriend already?”
Max laughed at the question, “Oh yeah, they're my sister’s friends,” he responded nonchalantly as if they weren’t appropriating his apartment.
“You sister’s friends? Why are they taking over your place?”
“They’re getting ready to go out in a bit. Since I live closer to the centre than Y/N, they’re leaving from here. I told them to stay the night too, I don’t want Y/N and her friends to travel home in the middle of the night when they’re all drunk.”
Lando nodded as he observed the herd of girls getting ready. It was a mess – even compared to how his sisters got ready. They were doing lots of things at the same time: passing the phone around to pick music, singing along to whatever Dutch song was playing, taking pictures, talking, doing their makeup, fixing their hair, picking out accessories and putting flags on their faces; it was complete chaos, but they didn’t seem to mind.
“I’ll get you some water, mate,” Max said before walking to the kitchen, leaving Lando alone with the women. 
It took a while for Y/N to spot Lando, but when she did, she came over right away. “Lando! How are you? I haven’t seen you in such a long time!” She said excitedly as she pulled him in for a hug.
“I’m good. It’s your fault we haven’t seen each other in so long, you never come to races anymore,” 
“Yeah, sorry about that. Life’s been busy. So, I hear today’s your first King’s Day, are you excited?”
Lando chuckled, “Ah, yes it is. Of course, I’m excited. I’ve been told it’s quite the experience!”
“It certainly is. I would’ve expected you to wear more orange though, isn’t it your team’s colour?” She questioned him teasingly.
“Is my hoodie not enough?” He asked, looking down at his outfit.
“Oh Lando, you know it’s not! Didn’t Max show you the videos? Come, I’ll put some flags on your face,” she said as she pulled him into the group of girls. 
They all greeted him enthusiastically as Y/N searched through the pile of orange and red-white-and-blue-coloured accessories, looking for something that would fit Lando. She pulled out a ribbon of the Dutch flag and grinned widely. Lando stood still as Y/N wrapped the ribbon around his head like a headband and tied it with a bow. “Very coquette, I’m sure your lady fans will love it,” she murmured and grabbed his jaw to turn his face to the side. A look of focus overtook her features as she gently applied the face paint to Lando’s cheeks. 
Lando was caught off guard at the situation he found himself in. He had barely stepped foot in the apartment and he was already being pulled in all kinds of directions as the whirlwind of women fussed over him, dressing him up for their sacred holiday. He caught Max’s eyes over Y/N’s shoulder, silently pleading for rescue, but Max merely laughed at the situation in which Lando had trapped himself, not offering any assistance. Instead, he stood by and watched with amusement as Y/N picked out things for Lando to wear and offered him an orange poncho for the rain that would probably come later today. Lando had no choice but to go along with it, accepting everything as it came. It was only a small effort for him, and it seemed to make her happy.
Y/N only let Lando go once she was satisfied with his outfit. He quickly rushed to Max, who offered him a glass of water with a big grin on his face, “She got you, eh?”
“Apparently, my orange hoodie was not enough,” he responded.
Max pat him on the back, “Don’t worry, I was a victim earlier,” he replied, pointing to his cheeks covered with face paint.
Not much later, the girls finally settled down. They were nearly ready to leave, the only thing they needed before heading off was a decent meal. If they were going to get wasted, they should at least have a good base. Y/N and her friends had organised a feast that could feed everyone and then some, with food left to spare. After the generous lunch was consumed, the women had some drinks to get a headstart before they packed their purses, making sure they had all the essentials covered. They divided the tiny bottles of alcohol they had bought in advance, and Lando watched in shock and disbelief as every girl shoved at least two tiny bottles down their bra. Meanwhile, Max seemed entirely unimpressed – as neutral as one could be.
Y/N and her friends had gotten tickets to Kingsland and the alcohol there was way too expensive to get drunk. If they needed to sneak in some alcohol to get properly pissed, that was a problem easily solved. The girls said goodbye and headed out the door, leaving silence in their wake.
The men didn’t leave that much later and headed over to the boat where they would meet Martijn, aka, Martin Garrix, with whom Max and Lando were both good friends. They would spend their time partying on the boat, getting just as drunk as Y/N and her friends before joining Martijn for his performance at Kingsland, where they’d meet up with the girls.
It was hours, and a shit ton of drinks, later when Max called Y/N to let her know they arrived at the festival grounds. In the meantime, a lot had happened: Y/N’s group of friends had gained at least three more people, Lando had cut his nose open on a glass bottle, and Max, somehow, managed to fall off the boat.
Y/N was dancing with her group of friends, going crazy for the songs the DJ was playing when she suddenly felt hands on her shoulders. She turned around immediately, surprised at the presence of a new person and ready to defend herself against whoever decided to touch her. That is, until she noticed the person behind her was Lando. As soon as she recognised the man, she, very drunkenly, jumped onto him. Y/N claimed she hadn’t seen him in so long as she put her entire body weight on the man who, unsuspecting of the move and unstable from the amount of alcohol he had consumed, nearly fell over. Y/N giggled innocently at the interaction, holding Lando’s arms tightly to prevent their fall. She looked up at his face while she did so, noticing the bandage on his nose.
“What did you do?” She slurred, frowning concernedly while running a hand along his face. That wasn’t a good choice; she lost her balance as soon as her hand left Lando’s arm. Lando, his own state not much better, grabbed her waist, trying to stop her wobbling.
“Got hit in the face with a broken beer bottle,” he replied with a grin and Y/N giggled at the image forming in her mind. 
“That’s so stupid. Did it hurt?” she asked.
Lando laughed loudly, “No, I’m too drunk to feel anything.”
Even though the comment is not that funny, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, nearly toppling over.
The group, now including Max and Lando, stood in the crowd, dancing to the music playing as it became busier in anticipation of Martin Garrix’s performance. The field they were standing in became more crowded by the second, pressing them closer to each other. There was barely any space left to move, packed like sardines in a can. When there were people who tried to pass, Y/N’s back was pressed tightly against Lando. So tightly that she could feel the warmth radiating off his body and his breath hitting her neck; so tightly that it made Max send Lando a warning glare. But it didn’t matter when everyone was drunk and there were too many people between them for Max to do anything other than stare angrily.
When Martijn began his set everyone cheered and moved along to the music. In Y/N’s current position, she was nearly grinding against Lando, but he didn’t seem to mind, holding her close with one hand while the other held his drink in the air. Nevertheless, she turned around, wanting to avoid conflict between her brother and Lando, and any pictures and rumours that would most likely arise when people spotted the world-famous Formula 1 drivers. That didn’t mean she’d avoid his touch, though; throwing her arms over his shoulders while he held her waist, they kept dancing together.
Martijn’s set ended way sooner than they would’ve liked it to, and it was only a while longer before the group left Kingsland for his penthouse. After all, when you’re invited to Martin Garrix’s after-party by the man himself, you cannot refuse. 
Somehow, they managed to get to his penthouse safely, where they kept the party going until at least midnight. Most of the people Martijn invited left after the fireworks, leaving a smaller group of people occupying the rooftop. After standing, dancing and jumping all day and night, the group finally found somewhere to sit for a while – just to let their legs rest. But, as luck would have it, there weren’t enough seats, because when are there ever? Before Y/N could even suggest she’d stand, Lando, in his drunken stupor, had already pulled her down to sit on his lap.
He smiled triumphantly as she sat, “You looked tired,” is all he said to justify it.
Despite her surprise, Y/N welcomed the closeness and leaned into Lando, resting her body against his while she sipped her Aperol and joined the ongoing discussion. It was the perfect way to end her night – surrounded by her friends, joking around and enjoying her drink. She enjoyed the drunken conversation, giggling whenever Lando would whisper a funny remark in her ear about whatever stupid comment someone just uttered. His commentary was so distracting that she didn’t even notice when he put his hand on her thigh and tightened his hold on her waist, pulling her closer.
Max, however, did notice. He had been keeping an eye on Lando since their interaction at Kingsland when Y/N was basically grinding on Lando. Knowing a warning glare didn’t do much last time, Max was ready to do just about anything to make his objections clear if Lando decided to take things too far in his presence. Especially when he saw Lando’s hand moving higher up Y/N’s leg while she solely giggled in his arms. It’s an understatement to say the alcohol made Lando bolder – he felt fucking fearless as he kept his gaze locked on Y/N, not removing his eyes for even a second, not until a loud voice interrupts the conversation, at least.
“Hey, mate, let’s keep it PG, yeah?” The tone of Max’s voice made the words sound a lot less casual and jovial than they usually would and Y/N’s cheeks flared up when she noticed he was referring to her and Lando. Lando’s hands shot up, as if Y/N’s warm skin burned his hands, lifting them in a gesture of surrender.
“Sorry man, didn’t even notice it,” he replied.
Max glowered at him, showing he was not messing around before returning to his conversation.
When Max’s attention shifted away from them, Lando tentatively placed his hand back. The alcohol running through his veins made him ballsy and fearless as he continued to make comments in Y/N’s ear. This time, she noticed his moving hand, a blush rising to her cheeks in anticipation of Max’s reaction. But he wasn’t paying attention to the two of them, not until he heard his sister laughing boisterously. Startled at the sound, his eyes darted over to the pair, widening in disbelief when he spotted Lando’s wandering hand edging closer to the hem of your skirt once again. Max’s instincts immediately kicked in at the sight – the audacity of this man.
“That’s enough, Norris. Hands off,” he commanded, his tone firm..
Lando’s confidence faltered under Max’s scrutinising gaze, and he removed his hand immediately. “Sorry, man,” he said, blushing at the attention. Max, too, had been drinking all day, and Lando didn’t want to risk another injury; the cut on his nose was enough for today.
Lando’s sudden change in behaviour was obvious to Y/N; his uncertainty and reluctance to touch her were palpable. In an attempt to reassure him, she leaned her head against his shoulder, cuddling into him while she kept the conversation going. She made eye contact with her brother, whose unrelenting glare softened at her comfort. All he wanted to do was to protect Y/N, but it now felt unnecessary as she seemed entirely at ease with Lando.
At some point during the night, Y/N took the initiative and grabbed Lando’s hand, placing it on her thigh. Lando was apprehensive at the gesture, looking over at Max to see his reaction, but he was focused on his sister. He watched her play with Lando’s hand, fiddling with his fingers and giggling into the crook of his neck. Max shifted his eyes to Lando, nodding at him before returning to his conversation – a sign of approval. If his sister was okay with it, initiating and encouraging it even, then he would accept it.
They stayed in the same position until people started to leave. When Y/N’s friends mentioned heading home, Max suggested everyone should go back, not wanting the girls to walk home alone while they were wasted. It took little convincing to get everyone into the elevator and out to the street to start the short journey (although much longer when drunk) back to his apartment. 
Lando and Y/N were walking next to each other, rounding up the group while Max was busy herding Y/N’s friends through the city. They were leaning on each other as they stumbled through the streets, laughing at Max who was frantically chasing the girls to make sure they took the right turns.
When they finally got back to Max’s apartment, the chaos of the night followed them inside as Max helped everyone to their beds. He had basically adopted Y/N’s friends as his sisters by now, fussing over them throughout the night. Occupied with the girls, Max doesn’t notice Lando following his sister into her bedroom. He sprawled himself out on the bed, barely kicking off his shoes, while Y/N got herself ready to sleep. 
She stumbled over to the bed while Lando watched her, both of them giggling as she nearly tripped over the shoes scattered around the floor. She curled up next to him on the bed, her body fitting perfectly against his. As they drifted to sleep, their whispers slowly faded into silence until the only sounds that remained were the soft snores from the cuddled-up couple, and the quiet stomps of Max trying to catch Y/N's giggling friends.
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usereddie · 2 days
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hello i humbly offer another installment of my "this was supposed to be a text post but it spiraled into a short coda oneshot" series.
hen and eddie talk about buck's coming out. also today's wordle is not lover i wouldn't spoil it and lover has already been used as a wordle. it was for the themes.
“Did you know? About Buck, I mean? Did you suspect at all?”
Hen looks up at him and puts her phone down, he gets a wordle spoiler when he looks at her screen. Lover. Got it. 
“Him being queer?”
“I think he identifies as bisexual.”
“Okay,” Hen says, and Eddie watches her face flit through a complicated series of emotions before landing on something fond and knowing that makes heat crawl up his spine. “You wanna sit down?”
“This doesn’t feel like a sit down conversation, it’s not a big deal, I’m just asking if you knew—”
“Eddie,” she cuts him off. Her smile is kind and gentle and Eddie gets the quick building feeling he should’ve stayed in the bunk room. “Sit down.”
He sits. 
Hen pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose and tilts her head a little as she smiles at him. The head tilt reminds him of Buck because he finds little pieces of Buck everywhere. He’s in the song on the radio in Eddie’s truck on the way to work and he’s in Christopher’s English homework because the stories Buck used to tell him when he was little enough to ask for them influenced his creative writing. He’s in Eddie’s kitchen even when he isn’t because Buck got him a set of rainbow silicon spatulas because they were a buy one get one free deal. 
A copy of Buck’s loft keys on Eddie’s keychain, his name in the calendar that he wrote himself take out w/ buck ! no skipping in his messy, nearly illegible scrawl. 
But Eddie can read it because he doesn’t think there’s a universe out there where he doesn’t understand Buck down to the chicken scratch. 
“I didn’t know, not for sure. It wasn’t ever something I thought about at length, either. I’ve mentioned it to Karen once or twice and there have been times where she’d shoot me a smirk from across Bobby and Athena’s backyard at something Buck said, but it’s not something I’ve ever discussed. That doesn’t feel right.” 
“But you knew?” 
“I wasn’t surprised.”
He fidgets with a rubber band someone left on the table. He wants to ask more. Needs to know what made her realize it in Buck. If she sees the same in him. 
Eddie’s never really thought about it. Or, that’s not quite true. He knows, in a way. That something’s never been quite right. That he’s never felt for women what he’s been told he’s supposed to feel. 
Dating isn’t supposed to feel like a performance, he doesn’t think. Nobody else seems to think it is. 
He likes the sex for the most part. Figured that was enough to carry it. Sex feels good but then again he’s pretty sure sex always feels good when both people want it. It’s not like it’s some sort of burden to eat his girlfriends out but there’s something missing. He likes making them feel good but he doesn’t like how high pitched their moans are of the soft sighs that spill out of their mouths. There are soft tits where hard chests should be and it doesn’t. 
It doesn’t feel right. The sex is good, it's fine, he'll take it, but—
Love shouldn’t be just about sex. Eddie doesn’t want it to be. 
“Did you ever assume something about—” he cuts himself off but Hen sees right through him anyway. Maybe lesbians have some sort of psychic third eye that lets them see beyond the performative exterior he puts on. He tries not to squirm as she looks at him. 
“About you?” she asks, and the world doesn’t stop spinning or start spinning backwards or tilt on its axis. Eddie thinks it should. It’s the least the earth could do, honestly. 
He swallows. 
“Yeah.”
Hen hums and Eddie can tell she’s trying to gather her thoughts and form them into sentences that won’t send him running for the hills. Being—this doesn’t feel like something to run from, though. Not so much anymore. Maybe a few years ago, maybe when he first got to LA and his parents' words and their bitterness were still stuck to his skin. When he still felt like he wasn’t good enough. Not for his son, not for Shannon, not for himself. 
He feels good enough now. And he thinks he’d like to fall for someone the way Buck seems to be falling for Tommy. Except he’s really fucking scared the person he’s falling for is—
Well. 
Buck. 
It shouldn’t come as a surprise, and it doesn’t, not really, it’s the kind of thought that sits quietly in the back of your mind and waits for you to uncover it. 
Buck came out and it uncovered itself. 
Buck is bi. Buck dates men. 
Buck could date him. And he isn’t.
That’s the crux of it all. Eddie was drunk and Buck’s arm was around his shoulder and he felt lightheaded, couldn't stop smiling so hard his cheeks hurt the next day. Bubblier than the champagne. Floaty. It wasn’t even a new feeling, not with Buck. 
He makes him so fucking happy. 
Even through hell, Buck makes him happy. That’s love, probably. Definitely. Eddie tries not to think about it too hard otherwise he might have to go see Dr. Salazar again, and he really doesn’t feel like explaining this to the woman who diagnosed him with repression. 
Getting an I told you so from his sisters would be one thing. 
“Do you want me to be honest?”
“Yes,” he says, far too quick and clipped and awkward. He smiles tightly. 
“Yeah. I thought you were, actually. When you got to the station, you wouldn’t talk about Christopher’s other parent. Even in the beginning, you barely talking about him. I figured an army guy from Texas probably wasn’t used to being out. And then you weren’t gay, so I assumed you were just being a scorpio and not letting anyone in. But you let Buck in.”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t—there’s no bet about it. About the two of you. I don't think anyone would be surprised, but no one talks about it. That’s not the kind of thing you gossip about. But, yeah. People were surprised when the mysterious partner you wouldn’t talk about was your wife, and not a husband.”
“Do you think I’m in love with Buck?”
“That’s not my place to tell you.”
“Hen. You’re my friend, and the only other queer person I know and trust enough to ask this to. I can’t exactly go ask him that question, and I don’t know who else to talk to. Do you think I’m in love with Buck?”
“Yes.”
Eddie’s exhale is shaky. 
“Yeah. Me, too.” 
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girlgenius1111 · 3 days
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wise beyond her years
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sol meets someone, and it's doomed from the start. everyone can see it, except her. ingrid tries to balance being supportive and being... a parent?
based [ish] on the manuscript by taylor swift... mostly the lyrics "afterwards she only ate kids cereal and couldn't sleep unless it was in her mother's bed"
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You met her at one of Ingrid’s games. Mapi had gone down to the locker room at halftime, and you’d been content to sit in your seat and scroll through your phone until the team made their way back out. That was, until she slid into the seat next to you and introduced herself. 
Camila. She was a bit taller than you, the epitome of Spanish beauty. She spoke English with an adorable accent, and when you looked into her eyes for the first time, you were almost speechless. She looked to be a bit older than you. Maybe around Ingrid’s age. 
You should have known better. You should have thought about how odd it was that she’d been sitting a few rows up and only came to talk to you when you were alone. How those first few dates she took you on always ended with her getting you to invite her to the next Barça game. 
It was so easy for her. You were… healing. That didn't mean that you were healed. Freud would have rolled in his grave at how oblivious you were. Dating an older woman. Only a month or so after a huge fallout with your mother. Letting her talk you into things you weren’t quite sure about. Let her talk her way into your heart, making promises and declarations of love that came much too soon. 
She said that she loved you. And it wasn’t that you believed her, not really. You just thought that if you tried hard enough to be perfect, one day she would love you.
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Ingrid had made her displeasure with Camila known to you from the beginning. She knew exactly what the woman was up to, it was obvious to everyone but you. She was using you because you were an easy target, and you were vulnerable and young and excited that someone was paying attention to you. 
You wouldn’t listen to Ingrid, though. Not when she warned you nicely about Camila, or when she warned you much more seriously. You ignored her words completely, dismissed them. And Ingrid didn’t want to fight with you, but she couldn’t hold back her feelings about this woman that had slipped into your life, so poor Mapi bore the brunt of the Norwegian’s rants about how Camila was not good enough for her Solstråle. 
This was the case today. You were off with Camila, and Ingrid was going crazy back home. It had been weeks, and this was still going on. The worry and concern your sister had for you was at a high, it was all she could think about. Mapi felt similarly, but she tried to keep her cool because she knew very well that telling you not to date the woman would only make you want to date her more. 
“She’s going to get hurt.” Ingrid said. 
“She might. That’s how she learns, though, mi amor. We have to let her make her own mistakes.” 
“Did you read that in your parenting book?” Ingrid asked with a slight smirk. 
Mapi flushed red, avoiding her girlfriend’s gaze. “It is not a parenting book. It is a… helping sad teens book.” She argued. 
Ingrid softened. “María, don’t be embarrassed. Getting a book to learn how to help Solstråle better… that is sweet and thoughtful. Just like you.” 
Now, Mapi was blushing again, but this time a small smile adorned her features, though worry was still clouding her eyes. “Are you sure it’s okay? I know she’s your sister, and I do not want to overstep.” 
Ingrid just shook her head. “No, you are not overstepping. I couldn’t do this without you, María, and I mean that. You balance me out. I was worried, for a while, about being too much like my mother. You’d never let that happen, though, and it’s like a safety net. I don’t need to worry as much about making a mistake because you’re always there to tell me when I’m not doing the right thing. And you don’t have to be, but you are. I don’t thank you enough for that, my love. I don’t tell you enough, how incredible you are,  for being so full of love, and so happy to share it with everyone you meet.” 
“I love you.” María whispered back. “I love you, and I love mi sol, and I tolerate her dog, but I love our family. Sol is a special kid and… I don’t know. I just want you both to be happy. I want you both to feel loved and worthy of love because you are.” 
Ingrid isn’t quite sure how this conversation about your ‘girlfriend’ had led to this incredibly mushy conversation, but she pulled Mapi into her and squeezed tightly. “ Don’t make me cry, Solstråle will be home soon and she’ll make fun of me.”
Mapi laughed loudly, quickly wiping a tear off Ingrid’s cheek as the front door opened, announcing your arrival home. When you walked into the living room, it was to see Mapi and Ingrid curled up together on the couch, which wasn’t an unusual sight. Nor was the way they were looking at each other unusual, either. Like seeing the other person smile could sustain the other for days. Ingrid and Mapi loved each other so deeply, and so easily, it was clear for anyone to see. 
You wanted that, you really did. And you thought you had it where you definitely didn’t. You’d have it one day, though. Something told you that. 
-------
You weren’t sitting with Mapi at the match today. Camila had wanted it to be a real date, and not be supervised by your sister’s girlfriend, though she still wanted to attend the match. You’d been excited about it, even though you’d spent most of your free time with her in the past couple weeks. Well, excited until she’d disappeared right before kick off to get you both waters, and had been gone for 20 minutes. 
You were really just worried that something had happened to slow her down, so you got up when an opposing player went down and headed off in search of her. 
You found her pretty easily, leaning against a wall by the bathroom, talking to a girl. A girl that looked to be about your age, that looked just like you in fact. You tried not to jump to conclusions as you froze, watching carefully from a few meters away. It was obvious, though, what was going on. Even more obvious when Camila reached out and tucked a piece of the girl’s hair behind her ear.
 It wasn’t immediately clear to you what to do. You knew you should be angry, but really all you felt was hurt. Before Camila could spot you, you headed back to your seat, and when Camila returned a few minutes later, you did what you were used to. You shut down. You answered her questions with shrugs or nods, even when she started to get annoyed that you weren’t speaking. 
You wanted to talk to Frido. Not Ingrid or Mapi, because they’d freak out. Mapi would get all weirdly protective and huffy, and Ingrid would just be furious that you hadn’t listened to her. Frido would listen to you, and tell you what to do. You couldn’t get to the Swede, though, not without seeing your sister and her girlfriend. And by the time the final whistle blew, Camila’s anger was simmering under the surface, and she practically dragged you from the stadium. You quickly texted Mapi, telling her you were leaving with Camila, before your girlfriend pushed you into the car and all but slammed the door. You winced at the sound, knowing that you shouldn’t feel guilty for how you were acting. Camila should be the one feeling bad, but you couldn’t help the nagging feeling to just apologize and let it go. 
It was like the old version of you and the newer version were fighting. Was this how you deserved to be treated? Had Camila really done anything wrong? Your brain was a mess, and as Camila pulled the car out of the parking spot, and began to drive, you decided that you just needed some space to think. 
“Can you take me home?” You asked quietly, looking at your girlfriend out of the corner of your eye. She seemed to relax a bit, now that you’d spoken. Camila didn’t look as angry anymore. Just worried. 
“Is everything okay? You’ve gone silent on me.” Camila asked gently. Or, at least, it sounded gentle. She was giving you a kind, concerned smile but there was a look in her eyes that made you kind of uneasy. You ignored it, focusing on the softness, letting yourself be lulled into a false sense of security. You told yourself to be honest, that it was probably just a misunderstanding. That Camila would make you feel better about it, explain it all away. And everything would go back to normal. 
“I just… I saw you talking to that girl by the bathroom. It looked kind of cozy.” You said cautiously. The car came upon an intersection, a red light, and Camila came to a stop before she looked over at you. The concern was gone from her face. The softness nowhere to be found. She just looked furious at you. 
“Did you follow me to the bathroom for a reason?” She asked venomously. 
You shook your head, surprised at the turn this conversation had taken. “No, no, you were gone for a while, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 
Camila rolled her eyes as the light turned green, looking away from you and at the road. “Sure. I was just saying hi to an old friend. There’s no need to get all jealous.” 
“I’m not jealous.” You replied, sitting up straighter in your seat, a bit of anger flaring in you. Anger you hadn’t felt in a while, but a feeling that still filled your veins with fire. “I just wanted to know why you were flirting with someone while we were on a date.” 
Camila scoffed. “I was not flirting. I told you it was an old friend. I barely talked to her, what are you being so dramatic about?” 
“I really don’t think I’m being dramatic. I just asked you a question.” You said, trying to remain calm even as your girlfriend got angrier and angrier next to you. 
“No, you acted like a child. Going completely silent and ruining our date? I know you’re young, but I expected you to act like an adult and be more mature than that. It’s honestly embarrassing.” 
You felt your cheeks burn, and you chewed on your lip for a minute, trying not to say anything you’d regret. “I asked you a question, and you just keep deflecting. I don’t think I am being the childish one.” 
“Is this the mommy issues or something?” Camila asked, a cruel smile playing on her lips. You sat silent for a moment, not completely sure you’d heard her correctly. 
“Excuse me?” 
“The jealousy, the insecurity? I know your mom fucked you up, but this is ridiculous. We’ve only been together for a few weeks, why are you being so clingy? It’s fucking annoying, and I’ll tell you right now, no one on earth is going to want to put up with this. Especially not from you, it’s not worth it.” 
You blinked, completely shocked. You hadn’t expected her to get so angry when you’d been honest about your insecurity and worry. And you hadn’t expected her to throw things that you’d told her in a moment of vulnerability in your face either. “Are you serious?” You asked, voice cracking slightly. 
Camila let out a humorless laugh, parking the car in front of the cafe you were supposed to be going to. “Are you going to cry now?” She asked mockingly. “Christ, you really are too young. I don’t want to date someone this immature.”
You stared at her, feeling like you had whiplash from the turn this conversation had taken. It seemed like she was breaking up with you. Which was probably for the best, if this was how she reacted to you bringing up an issue with her. Still, it was like you were seeing a side of her you’d never seen before. Cold. Cruel. She looked completely unbothered as she unlocked the car doors and gave you a pointed look, one that clearly told you that this conversation was over. 
She looked unbothered, and you felt  your heart shatter as your biggest fear was coming true. You were too much. It had only taken Camila weeks to get tired of you. Hot tears fell down your cheeks, ones you desperately tried to hide. You were sad and embarrassed, but most of all. You just felt so hopeless. 
As you got out of the car, without another word said to your now ex-girlfriend, you wondered how you could have been so naive to think that someone would want you. Camila was right. You were too screwed up for anyone to choose you. 
You walked right into the cafe, making a beeline for the bathroom. Locking and shutting the door behind you, the last of your resolve broke, and you worked hard to quiet the broken sobs falling from your lips. 
Stupid. You’d been so stupid. It wasn’t the first time someone had broken your trust, or said something awful to you. But it was the first time since… things had changed. And somehow, you’d forgotten how much it hurt, feeling unwanted. You had been used to it, before, numb to it. Now, though, it burned sharp in your chest. Shame and sadness and anger and frustration. And still. That persistent feeling of hopelessness. How was anyone ever supposed to want you?
-------
Mapi had a weird feeling when you called. Your text after the match had sounded odd, and you were supposed to be getting coffee with Camila. She didn’t really have any other reason to be worried, but for some reason, she was. 
“Maps?” You greeted quietly. You called Mapi on purpose. She worried less than Ingrid, and while she disapproved of Camila, she had been pretending that she didn’t. Mapi was more likely to be willing to come and get you. Ingrid, on the other hand, you assumed would be too angry that you hadn’t listened to her. Too vindicated, and too caught up in being right to comfort you. 
“Hey, nena. What’s up?” Mapi asked. 
“Can you come get me?” You mumbled, the embarrassment of the situation really hitting you full force. 
“Send me your location, I’m on my way.” Mapi replied instantly, and you really appreciated that she didn’t try to get any details out of you, was just focused on getting to you as fast as possible. 
“Can you bring Scout?” You asked after a moment’s hesitation, knowing how Mapi felt about bringing the dog in the car with her. The simple question sent another wave of worry through the Spaniard’s body, knowing you really only asked for something you needed when… you really needed it. 
“Of course. Do you want to stay on the phone with me?” Mapi asked, rushing to grab her keys, ignoring the questioning look Ingrid was giving her from the couch, having woken up from a nap. 
“No, it’s okay. I’ll see you soon.” 
“Okay, mi sol. I love you.” 
“Love you too.” You whispered, choking back a sob as you hung up. 
“What is it? Where is she? Is she okay? Did something happen?” Ingrid asked rapidly, moving to get up from the couch. 
“Scout! Ven aqui!” Mapi called, rolling her eyes when the dog appeared instantly, as if he knew the reason for being summoned. “I don’t know, she just asked me to come get her. Don’t get up. Stay here, rest. I’ll get pequeña.” 
“But-” 
“No buts, princesa. Stay here. I’ve got this covered, we’ll be back soon. Don’t move from this couch, I mean it.” Mapi insisted, never one to take Ingrid’s recovery casually. 
Ingrid frowned but sat back down on the couch, watching as her girlfriend and your dog disappeared out the front door, both of them moving like they were on a mission. If there was one thing Mapi could agree with Scout on, it was that you were very important.
-------
When Mapi pulled up in front of the cafe, she saw you sitting with a to-go cup of coffee at a little table, staring at the ground. She parked quickly, finding a spot just around the corner,  before she got out to walk over to you, bringing Scout with her. Scout pulled harshly on his leash, and for once, Mapi didn’t mind. 
“Solstråle?” Mapi called when she got close enough, seeing your head whip up to look in the direction of your name. In a flash, you were abandoning your coffee and all but launching yourself towards Mapi. The Spaniard didn’t say anything, not quite sure what had happened but able to infer that it wasn’t good. 
“Thanks for coming so fast.” You said quietly, feeling just marginally better now that Mapi had pulled you into a tight hug. Scout nudged your leg with his nose rather insistently, until you pulled away from the hug and crouched down to pet him. 
“Of course, mi sol. I’ll always come for you. Did something happen?” Mapi asked, never not amazed by the way Scout instantly brought a small smile to your face, even if your eyes were still slightly wet with tears. 
“We broke up.” You said simply, though your voice cracked over the last word. 
“Oh, nena. I’m so sorry.” Mapi sighed. “Let's get you home, yeah?” 
“Okay.” You agreed, although you really weren’t looking forward to it. You wanted to go home, curl up into a ball and cry, by yourself. At the same time, you desperately wanted a hug from your sister. You were just completely convinced that she wouldn’t be willing to do that. 
-------
You walked into the house just behind Mapi, trying to take deep, steadying breaths. You were close to breaking down, and you didn’t really need to hear all the reasons that Ingrid had known this would happen. You didn’t need an ‘I told you so.’ 
Your sister was waiting for you in the entrance hall, pacing nervously, when you walked in. 
“Solstråle! What happened? Are you okay?” Ingrid asked as soon as you were through the door, ignoring Mapi’s look that was clearly telling her to be cool. 
“It’s fine, I’m fine. I want to be alone.” You said, pushing past her to head for the stairs. You heard Ingrid begin to go after you, but Mapi stopped her, telling her to give you a minute. 
-------
You collapsed onto your bed, Scout jumping up next to you like he thought it was a game. You just wished it would just swallow you up. It was only a few minutes later that you heard footsteps approaching your door, like you knew they would. A soft knock on your door interrupted your crying, and you hastily wiped at your eyes. “Yeah?”
Ingrid peaked her head in. “I know you said you want to be alone, but I just wanted to check…” she said, trailing off when she saw you valiantly fighting your tears. 
“I’m okay.” You mumbled, focusing on petting Scout, as opposed to looking at your sister. 
“Honey, you aren’t.” Ingrid sighed, moving in closer to take a seat on the edge of your bed. “You’re upset, that’s okay. You don’t need to be embarrassed.” 
“Well, I am. You were right. Is that what you wanted to hear?” You asked bitingly, not really intending to snap so harshly at your sister, but not quite sure you felt like you could trust her at the moment. 
“No, sweetheart, that is not what I wanted to hear. I wanted to be wrong about her, solstråle, more than anything. I am so sorry things didn’t end well.” 
“You aren’t glad that you’re right?” You asked, astonished. It didn't really make sense to you; all of this could have been avoided if you’d just listened to your sister. How could she be sorry for you when you’d blatantly ignored her advice? 
Ingrid shook her head, her face painfully full of pity and sympathy. “No, not if it means that you’re hurting.” 
“Oh.” You weren’t quite sure what to do with that. You’d been prepared to deal with this yourself. To be completely honest, you didn’t really feel like you deserved Ingrid’s support. You’d been so stupid not to listen to her. This was all your fault, really, and Ingrid shouldn’t have to deal with implications of something that was ultimately your mistake. “I’m sorry, I should have listened.” You said quietly, looking down, refusing to make eye contact with your sister. 
“Don’t be sorry, solstråle.” Ingrid sighed. You looked so distraught, but you were leaning slightly away from your sister, like you were afraid to accept any comfort from her. Like suddenly, you weren’t sure you trusted her anymore. And though that hurt, Ingrid really couldn’t blame you. Not when the universe seemed so dead set on making you miserable. “What can I do?” 
“I just want to be alone.” You mumbled, wrapping your arms around yourself, completely invalidating your statement. 
“No, you don’t. Look at me.” Ingrid instructed, waiting until you raised your head to look at her, very cautiously. “You’re allowed to be sad about this. No matter what happened, no matter what I said about her before. I never want to see you hurting. You don’t have to deal with this alone just because you made a mistake. Okay?” 
You held your sister’s gaze for a few moments, before you slowly nodded your head. “I really liked her.” You whispered after a minute, leaning almost imperceptibly towards your sister. 
“I know. Come here, honey,” Ingrid said, opening her arms for you to all but collapse into them. It was familiar, at this point, being held tightly in Ingrid’s arms. It never failed to make you feel better. And while Ingrid wished that things would just be easier for you, a very critical part of herself settled when you relaxed against her. The brunette was never quite sure she was doing a good enough job with you, but when you went to her when you were upset, allowed her to help you, even if it was rather hesitantly, it felt reassuring to her. It wasn’t full trust, but you were getting there. She must be doing something right if you were making progress. 
“What would make you feel better?” Ingrid asked after a minute, smiling to herself at how Scout had settled himself with half his upper body draped across your legs. 
“Nothing.” You replied pathetically. It wasn’t the first relationship you’d had, but it felt so much more significant than any of the others had. In just a few weeks, Camila had made herself one of the most important things in your life. You weren’t really sure how she managed it, but somehow, she’d gotten you to confess things you’d told very few people, learned more about you than many people did. And as soon as things had started to not go her way, she’d used all those things against you. It was the first time in a while that you’d really let yourself be fully vulnerable with someone, and it had backfired so horrifically. You were hurt, and you were embarrassed, but most of all, you were just sad. 
You thought this was going to be a turning point for you, but you didn’t realize you’d given Camila all of the ammunition she’d needed to make sure it was the biggest setback you’d face. Not until you were lying in your bed, wanting nothing more than to disappear. You’d been nothing to her. That was a familiar feeling, something that made every cell in your body squirm with anxiety. It was happening again. 
“What are you thinking?” Ingrid asked, interrupting your rapid stream of thoughts. 
“Is it me? Do I just… make people want to treat me badly?” You asked. It wasn’t the first time you’d considered it, but that particular fear had been dormant since everything had happened in the last few weeks. Since Ingrid and Mapi had made it clear that they wanted you here with them. It was confusing and completely contradictory, your brain couldn’t really make sense of it. Your sister and her girlfriend must just be the exception. 
“No.” Ingrid said firmly. “No. It isn’t you. You just have… bad luck. You make me and Mapi want to be better, Solstråle. Better for you, so that we can take care of you in the way that you deserve. You are good, Solstråle, and you deserve good, even when you don’t feel like it.” 
For some reason, Ingrid’s words brought tears to your eyes. Good tears. “Well, I can’t have all bad luck. I get to be here with you two, and I don’t know if I would still be…” you trailed off, trying to figure out what you wanted to say. “You both saved my life, I think. The two of you wanting me here, and taking me in, that’s good luck.” You managed, sitting up and shifting so you were facing your sister, who looked one word away from bursting into tears herself. 
“It’s not good luck, mi sol. It’s what you deserve. It’s what you should have had this whole time.” Mapi chimed in from the doorway, looking fondly at the two of you. Ingrid smiled at her in thanks, humming quietly in agreement with her girlfriend’s statement. The Spaniard wandered in closer, flopping onto the free space on your bed, causing a disgruntled Scout to shift, kicking Mapi lightly in the side. “That girl did not deserve you. And you’ll find someone who wants to treat you the way you deserve. You just can’t rush stuff like that, sí? It will come to you when it does.” 
It was potentially the most frustrating advice to receive, but it made you feel better nonetheless. 
“And she was kind of ugly.” Mapi said as an afterthought. 
“Mapi!” You laughed, smiling a real smile. Both girls’ faces lit up at the sight of the smile on your face, and both of them were desperate for you to keep smiling, for your face not to fall into the sad frown it had been in for the past hour. The conversation lulled, and Ingrid’s mind raced, trying to think of what people liked to do after breakups. She’d been with Mapi for so long, she wasn’t sure she remembered. 
“Do you want to lay in bed alone for the rest of your night, or do you want to watch a movie? Or we could go get ice cream. Or we could go shopping. Or on a run. Or-” Ingrid listed, only stopping when you cut her off. 
“Sister movie night sounds good.” You said softly, unable to express in that moment how much you appreciated how hard she was trying. You knew ingrid probably wanted to talk, to hear everything that had happened, but she was learning to respect that you really only liked to talk when you felt like it. Which wasn’t often. 
“Sister movie night, cool.” Ingrid said, trying to act like she wasn’t thrilled that you’d decided to be with her instead of requesting to be alone. “Go pick a movie, I’ll make popcorn.” 
You all dragged yourselves off your soft comforter, having grown rather comfortable, and headed for your bedroom door. 
“I’ll be in the garage.” Mapi said, smiling at both of you as she tried to wordlessly communicate that she knew you both wanted sister time, and it was okay that it didn’t include her. Both you and Ingrid froze, though, turning slightly to stare at her like she’d said something absurd. 
“Don’t be stupid.” You said, rolling your eyes. “‘Sister movie night’ obviously means ‘sister and her live-in girlfriend’ movie night.” 
Mapi looked a bit surprised, though she shouldn’t have been. There were very few times that you just wanted to be with Ingrid, and those times were becoming less and less frequent as you began to depend on Mapi more and more. “You want me to watch with you?” 
“Sí.” You said, almost exasperated. “Why wouldn’t I want you to hangout with us?”
“I just thought it was Engen sister time…” Mapi trailed off, looking uncharacteristically insecure.  
“Engen León family time.” Ingrid amended, looking at you for approval. You nodded. 
“Who else is going to talk the entire length of the film?” You asked, smirking and sprinting off down the stairs when Mapi gave you an offended look, Scout hot on your heels. 
------
The movie had been a good distraction, not that Mapi or Ingrid really paid much attention to it. Instead, they kept glancing over at where you were curled up on the couch. Scout had taken his place next to you, one of his legs stretching out every now and then to kick in Mapi’s direction. 
The conversation with them had obviously made you feel better, but they were still rather uneasy. You were acting completely normally, all of a sudden. And they didn’t buy it, not for a second. They weren’t sure what had happened, because you hadn’t said, but they knew that it wasn’t good. You’d been infatuated with Camila, and now you were reluctant to speak her name. Whatever had gone on had hurt you, deeply, but in the span of a few hours, you were acting like you were completely fine. 
To you, it just felt like there was no use in thinking about it anymore. Crying over what happened, being sad or angry with Camila wouldn’t help you. It wouldn’t make you feel better. You’d very logically taken stock of your emotions, before deciding that they were completely useless. You were fine. 
Well, maybe not, but you would be fine. Especially if you acted like nothing was wrong. Like you weren’t questioning every choice you’d made with Camila. Like you didn’t hate yourself. Emotions only had power if you gave it to them, you decided. Before, you might have been angry. Now, though, you just… forced it all off, far away. No feeling anything until it hurt less to think about what had happened. 
It seemed like a good plan to you, and you stuck to it. Even when you couldn’t fall asleep that night, your mind swirling with horrible thoughts as you tried to push them away. Eventually, you gave up, putting on a show and forcing yourself to focus on that, instead. 
It was obvious that you hadn’t slept the next morning, walking down to the kitchen like a zombie. Ingrid and Mapi were hoping you’d be a little more forthcoming with what had occurred today, but all hopes of that went out the window when you avoided eye contact with them, a hood pulled over your head, dark bags under your eyes. At least you there was no school, as you had the day off, but they had training, training they couldn’t miss. Neither of them felt very good about leaving you home alone, with no idea what was going on in your head. 
You were blankly shoveling cereal into your mouth when Ingrid got your attention. 
“Solstråle!” She said rather loudly. You jumped slightly, looking across the table at her in confusion. “I said your name 5 times. Did you not hear me?” 
Ingrid didn’t sound mad, just worried, and you felt your throat tighten. 
No. No. No tears. No sadness. That wouldn’t help. Self pity wouldn’t help. The only thing to do was to move forward. 
“Sorry. I’m just tired. Had coffee too late yesterday, couldn't sleep.” You mumbled, turning your attention back to the ceramic bowl in front of you. Your thoughts wandered, briefly, to the fact that since you’d moved in, there hadn’t been a single day where there wasn’t a box of your favorite cereal in the pantry. You really must have been feeling the complete lack of sleep, because that thought alone almost had you tearing up. 
“Come to training today. María is out on the grass, again, you can watch.” Ingrid suggested softly. 
You shook your head though, swallowing the lump in your throat. You didn’t want to be far from them, but you also knew that if they kept being so nice to you, you weren’t going to be able to keep it together. 
“I’m really tired, I just want to stay here.” You replied.  Ingrid looked like she wanted to argue, but Mapi nodded from where she stood at the fridge, filling her water.
“That’s okay. Stay here, have a chill day. We’ll be back after lunch.” She walked over to you, squeezing your shoulder kindly. The Spaniard said goodbye, before exiting the kitchen. Ingrid hung back, not really caring at all that she might make them late. 
Your sister stood from her spot at the table, and you mumbled a quiet goodbye, only looking up when she came to stand right next to you. Her hand pulled your hood down, her fingers tilting your chin up to look at her. Her face was pinched with concern, and you felt a pang of guilt that you were doing this again. Making them worry about you. 
“Try to sleep or something? You looked exhausted, sweetheart. No runs or hikes or climbs, please. Just stay here?” Ingrid asked, making sure to frame her request as a question, and not a command. 
“Okay.” You agreed, far too tired to even think about any of those things. You knew Ingrid just wanted you to stay where she knew you were, which was fine. You were honestly just surprised she hadn’t dragged you to training with her. 
She lightly patted your cheek, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Be good. I love you.” 
“Love you too. Play safe.” 
You were wide awake, completely wired. Even as everything inside of you told you that you should be tired, you felt like you might never sleep again. You kept your promise to your sister, though, collapsing onto the couch and putting a show on. Scout came to lay with you, falling asleep easily in your lap. You were jealous of your dog, you realized. It was an amusing thought, but all you felt was… Empty. Nothing. Because if you let yourself laugh, you were sure it would turn into sobs, and you couldn’t do that. 
You just had to be strong.
-------
You got into bed early that night, hoping that the added time laying down would help you fall asleep. You were so exhausted, truly, but as you laid in bed at 8pm, you knew instinctively that you wouldn’t be able to sleep again. Everytime you drifted off, your thoughts drifted too, and you’d jerk awake, struck with a reminder of what Camila had said. Her words were haunting you. Everytime you closed your eyes, you could see the sneer on her face as she spoke, and hear the cruel words she’d spoken. 
You were beginning to think she was right about you. How were you so screwed up after a relationship ended that had only lasted a few weeks to begin with? You thought you loved her, yes, but you were being dramatic. You shouldn’t be this devastated, and in your head, this only reinforced that idea that Camila had been right. You were too immature. You were too messed up. No one was ever going to want to deal with you. 
A soft knock on your door dragged you out of your thoughts, thankfully. 
“Come in,” you called. Mapi pushed the door open, taking in the rather unnaturally clean room around her. You’d gone crazy cleaning the night before, putting away all the clothes strewn across the floor. It was neat and clutter free in there now, and Mapi’s heart melted at the sight of the framed photo on your nightstand. It was of the three of you, a candid that Frido had taken after a match. It was little things like this that made Mapi deeply happy, and deeply sad all at once. For six months you’d lived here, and they’d given you the space they thought you needed. It was so far from what you actually needed, though, and Mapi couldn’t help the guilt that filled her at the thought. All she and Ingrid could do now, though, was do better. 
So, she entered your room, holding out a mug towards you. It was the one she’d picked out at Ikea, the one with the map and the sun. You knew for a fact that you’d used it this morning for your coffee, which meant Mapi must have pulled it out of the dishwasher and hand washed it herself, so she could bring it up to you. 
“I made you tea.” She said, taking a seat on the edge of your bed as you grabbed the mug from her. 
“Did you think caffeine would help me sleep?” You asked skeptically. 
She rolled her eyes. “No, idiota, it is sleepytime tea. There’s no caffeine.” 
You took a cautious sip, smiling a bit when you liked the taste. 
“My mami always made it for me when I couldn’t sleep.” Mapi said quietly. “Thought it might help tonight since you decided to become nocturnal yesterday.” 
Ingrid and Mapi really toed the line of parent vs. sister / guardian. It was often a sisterly relationship, you thought, with both of them. When you would tease each other, or argue about borrowing their clothes. Other times, it felt completely parent-y. When they’d make you go to bed early, or annoy you about studying for a test. 
This situation definitely fell into the latter category, and you found that you minded it less and less. 
“It’s good.” You told her, taking another sip. “And I didn’t decide to become nocturnal. It just kind of happened.”
Mapi hummed, looking around the room again. You just had the string lights above your bed on, the room lit also by the soft glow of the TV, as your favorite sitcom played. You’d lit a candle, and you were bundled up under the covers of your bed, clearly trying hard to be comfortable. Clearly trying very hard to sleep. 
You looked so tired, it made her heart ache, and she knew Ingrid felt the same. Ingrid, who Mapi was absolutely sure was hovering outside the door, not wanting to overwhelm you. You seemed… fragile. Like you were one step away from breaking at any given moment, and neither of them wanted that to happen before you were ready. Ingrid was just as worried about you, though, and she’d only agreed not to go in if Mapi promised to make you promise something. 
“Can you promise to wake us up tonight if you can’t sleep?” Mapi said finally, looking intently at you. 
With a sigh, you shrugged. “What good would that do?”
“You wouldn’t have to be alone.” Mapi said simply, watching as a flicker of emotion flashed across your face. You didn’t have to be alone anymore. Sometimes you forgot. “If you don’t promise, Ingrid is probably going to come in here every hour or something and check on you.” 
With a roll of your eyes, and a big sigh that you didn’t really mean, you nodded. “Fine.” 
“Good.” Mapi grinned. “Goodnight, mi sol. Te quiero.” 
“Goodnight.” You replied. “Tell Ingrid in the hall goodnight too.” 
The Spaniard chuckled. “I will. Sleep tight.”
With that, she leaned down, pressing a kiss onto your forehead, before she slipped out of the room. Hushed whispers came from the hall and you smiled to yourself, just a bit. Ingrid was such a weirdo sometimes. 
-------
It was around 2am when you broke. You’d tried everything you could think of to fall asleep, and nothing had worked. Worse, the lack of sleep was really getting to you and you were feeling ridiculously emotional. When you promised Mapi you’d wake them up if you couldn’t sleep again, you hadn’t meant it. Now, though, as you lay awake in your bed, tears threatening to fall, you really didn’t want to be alone. You weren’t sure how they could help, or even if you wanted help, but you knew that the indisputably healthy choice to make here would be to go to them. And you were trying to be better for yourself. 
Even as Camila’s words rattled around in your head, and you were half convinced you were an awful person, about to become even worse by waking Ingrid and Mapi up, you got up from your bed, and walked down the hall. 
There were a lot of notable moments in your time in Spain. A lot of them consisted of long, emotional talks with Ingrid and Mapi. And you knew that this was likely what you were headed for. It was naive to think you could hold everything that had happened in, keep it all to yourself. Especially when you’d kind of gotten used to sharing things with them, as horrifying as that thought was. You weren’t nervous, like usual, though. You just wanted them to tell you that everything she’d said was wrong. 
Scout followed you down the hall, slightly annoyed that you’d woken him up when you got up. He liked to sleep with some part of him touching you, so it was inevitable that when you woke, Scout did too. Your sister’s bedroom door was open, and you peeked in, half second guessing yourself. Both of them were asleep. It was a cool night, by Barcelona’s standards, which was obvious by Mapi’s sweatshirt and sweatpants that she’d worn to bed, as well as the extra blanket pulled over her. Ingrid, on the other hand, had kicked the comforter off of her, sleeping in just a tshirt and shorts. They were laying facing each other, their hands tangled together, like they’d fallen asleep talking. 
They were sleeping. They’d had a long week. They had training the following day. You shouldn’t wake them. They looked comfortable and peaceful, and you shouldn’t ruin that. You turned to go back to your room, biting your lip to stop yourself from crying at how utterly alone you suddenly felt. 
You were sure you hadn’t made any noise, but still, a whispered voice stopped you in your tracks. 
“Solstråle?” Ingrid asked quietly, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “What’s wrong?” 
“Nothing, go back to sleep.” You said, trying to keep your voice steady. It evidently didn’t work, because not a second later, Ingrid was flicking the lamp on, looking at you with a sympathetic expression on her face. Next to your sister, her girlfriend huffed in annoyance, still practically asleep, pulling the covers up and over her head. Ingrid rolled her eyes, before fixing her attention back on you.
“Come here.” Ingrid instructed, gesturing you closer to the bed. You walked over, feeling ridiculously like a small child waking their parents up after a bad dream. “You can’t sleep?”
“No.” You said miserably, roughly wiping away a stray tear. 
“How can I help? Do you want to talk?” She asked worriedly, brutally kicking Mapi in the shin as she did so, thinking that her girlfriend would be somewhat helpful in this situation, even if she was half asleep. The Spaniard grumbled unhappily, but emerged from under the covers just as you responded. 
“I don’t know, I just can’t stop thinking about her.” You whispered, truly not confident that anything could make you feel better in that moment. 
Mapi sat up, patting the middle of the bed invitingly. It was a king, and there was plenty of room, but you looked between her and Ingrid skeptically. 
“I’m not a child.” You said a bit harshly, thinking of Camila calling you immature. If only she could see you now. 
“We know. You just broke up with your girlfriend, though, and you haven’t slept in over a day. You are sad and exhausted, and it isn’t childish to need help.” Mapi said kindly, very dramatically scooching over so there was more room for you. 
You floundered for a minute, not quite sure what to do. You were an adult. An adult. And Ingrid and Mapi were not your parents. The appeal was there, though, to climb into the bed and tell them everything. To let yourself break when you knew they’d keep track of all the pieces, and put you back together. “Can I have more tea?” You blurted out, looking at Mapi. You weren’t really sure where that came from, but she nodded enthusiastically, rising from the bed, practically taking off for the kitchen in a sprint. 
“I’ll go make some!” 
You turned back to Ingrid, chewing aggressively on your lip. She rolled her eyes at you, teasingly, before she pointendly looked between you and the bed. 
“Get in the damn bed.” Ingrid sighed. It was easier, when she was telling you exactly what to do, because you didn’t have to worry about picking the wrong answer. You settled on the bed, right in the middle, and Ingrid threw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to lean your head on her shoulder. 
“Ingrid?” You said after a minute, so quietly, your sister almost missed it. 
“Hmm?” 
“Do you think I’m immature?” You asked. 
Ingrid thought for a moment. “No. I think you’ve had to grow up really fast, and you’ve had to make a lot of big adjustments. You are more mature because of all of that. Why?”
You knew she would hate what you were going to say. “Camila said I was.” 
Ingrid grew tense next to you. “That’s because she was a 26 year old woman dating an 18 year old. What was she fucking expecting?” Ingrid said venomously. 
Mapi walked back into the room, taking care to be quiet, as it looked like you were deep in thought. She placed the mug of tea on her nightstand before she sat on the bed next to you, turning so she could see your face.
“Did she say anything else?” Ingrid asked cautiously. 
You opened your mouth to tell her that, no, Camila hadn’t said anything else. Instead, words flowed out of your mouth that you hadn’t decided to say, but you were unable to contain them. “She called me jealous and immature. She said the ‘mommy issues’ were really obvious, that I was insecure and clingy, and that I wasn’t worth it. That no one would want to put up with me.” 
You said it so forlornly, so resigned to what this awful woman had told you, Ingrid felt an anger she’d never experienced before rise within her. Neither she nor Mapi knew what to say right away, collecting their thoughts. You broke the silence again, though, after only a few seconds. 
“I think she’s right.” You said, your voice breaking clearly. You pressed your hands to your face, body shaking with silent sobs. 
“No, mi sol, no,” Mapi said softly, scooting closer to rest a hand on your knee. 
Ingrid took a breath, trying to swallow her anger, rubbing your arm with her hand comfortingly. “Solstråle, you are none of those things. That awful woman has no idea who you are, not really. You are not immature, you are 18. There is a huge difference. And you are so much more than what happened with mom. You are so many good things despite mom, sweetheart, and Camila doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She just wanted to hurt you, none of that is true.” Ingrid said insistently. 
“Why would she want to hurt me? I thought she liked me. I don’t understand.” You replied, still keeping your face hidden away in your hands. 
“Because she isn’t a good person, and she doesn’t deserve you. And you don’t understand because you are good, mi sol. So good.” 
“Then why do such horrible things keep happening?” You asked, voice raised slightly in frustration. You pulled your hands away from your face, looking between your sister and her girlfriend with a tearstained, bewildered face. “I’m trying to be good, I’m trying so hard, why is this so hard?”
Both girls felt their hearts break a little at your words. Ingrid wrapped both her arms around you, pulling you into her chest as you cried. “I know, Solstråle, it’s not fair. It’s going to get better. I promise you, it is.”
“I’m tired of everything being so hard.” You cried, shutting your eyes tightly as you spoke. You felt a soft hand brushing your hair away from your forehead, felt Ingrid leave a kiss on your forehead. “I’m tired.”
You meant it figuratively, and literally, and Mapi and Ingrid knew that very well. The best thing they could do for you now, would be to get you calm enough to sleep. It was happening without them trying very hard, honestly. You could barely keep your eyes open, even as soft sobs fell from your mouth. 
“It’s not going to be hard forever. I promise you, mi sol.” Mapi said, looking intently at you, though you didn’t look back at her. 
“I’m so tired.” You repeated, barely making sense. You were almost delirious with exhaustion, your emotional outburst only making it worse. 
“Sleep, solstråle. We are right here. Everything will feel better in the morning. You aren’t going to feel like this forever. Just relax, and sleep. We love you so much.” 
And even as you nodded, all the fight and worry of being too much for them flooding from your body, you wondered if they were right. If everything would feel better. 
If anyone would ever really want you. 
You drifted off ridiculously easily, curled up next to your sister, your brain going quiet for the first time in days. Once Ingrid was sure you were asleep, she turned to her girlfriend, who was tucking the blankets around you nice and tight. 
“I am going to kill that girl.” Ingrid murmured, feeling absurdly protective over you. 
“I will kill her first.” Mapi vowed. 
“She isn’t allowed to date again until she’s 50.” Ingrid said, a frown etched on her face. 
Mapi cracked a smile. “Good luck with that, mi amor.” 
Ingrid shook her head. “I can’t stand to see her like this.” 
The Spaniard turned serious again, nodding her agreement. “It’s gonna get better, Ingrid. It’s not going to be perfect, but she’s already better. She just needs time.” 
“I wish I could take it from her, so she could just be happy all the time.” Ingrid admitted, flicking the lamp off, her voice barely more than a whisper. 
“I do too.” Mapi whispered back. She and Ingrid looked at each other over your slumbering form, each seeing their exact feelings reflected in the other’s face, even with their features obscured by darkness. They just wanted things to be better for you. Easier and lighter and happier. They’d do anything, get you the moon if you wanted it. They didn’t consider if they were giving you all they could, that maybe you needed something else. They just promised themselves that they wouldn’t rest until you were happier, whatever it took. Whatever it took for you, because you were their sol, and nothing on earth was more important to them than your happiness. 
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my name is girlgenius1111 and i like to make my fictional kid suffer give me all your thoughts on this installment of sol ☀️
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fangirl-dot-com · 23 hours
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😾Really Nice Guy Who Hates Only You
*part of the reverse trope series*
Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Celebrity!Reader Genre: Fluff/Miscommunication/Humor/SMAU Summary: Oscar was known to be the epitome of a polite cat. His reputation is that he is genuinely nice to everyone. Well, everyone except for you.
*once again, I have loved writing for this series and it seems like everyone loves these chapters (as they have the highest notes out of all of them). I'm really excited for what is to come! I have loved making all the special tweets and other additions to the posts!*
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
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Oscar had been in a bad mood. The garage could practically feel the cloud that surrounded the Aussie as he walked through the garage on Saturday morning for the sprint. The scrunch of the nose and the constant side eyes also gave it away. 
Normally, Oscar tends to be more on the quiet side. But today, he was even quieter. Gone was the polite cat, and it was replaced by a very grumpy feline. 
“Hey Oscar! Come meet our guests!” 
Oscar let out a sigh as he turned around and put a very fake smile on his face. This is the moment he had been dreading ever since you stepped into the garage. He did, or couldn’t, understand why you were wearing his number on the back of the jersey you wore. 
It disgusted him. 
You were very pretty though, he had eyes. Your hair went very well with the papaya orang and your smile could pretty much kill a man in a 10-foot radius. Except that right now, Oscar wanted your perfect hair to catch on fire and he’d avoid the smile. 
When he finally got closer, he stopped a few feet in front of you, not wanting to get too close. Two hands clapped him on the shoulders as Lando started to shake him. 
“So Os-cah, this is Y/n L/n, 2-time Grammy Award winner and probably the prettiest guest we’ve ever had.” 
All right, so Lando was a gonner.
Oscar fought the urge to roll his eyes right into the back of his head so he wouldn’t have to look at you anymore. But your smile was oh-so pretty. You looked at him with wide eyes as you held out your hand for a shake. 
However, Oscar just looked at it, then looked at you. 
“Welcome.”
Lando reeled back, confused at his younger teammate’s coldness. The two watched as your smile faltered just a bit. (If Oscar had any remorse, he didn’t show it.) You were quick to recover and spread another smile, even if this one wasn’t as real as the first. 
You put your hand down as you greeted, “It’s such an honor to finally meet you! I’ve been a fan for what feels like forever.” 
Oscar grunted. “Can’t say the same.” 
You absolutely wanted to whimper. You had been waiting to be invited to a Formula 1 garage ever since you won your first Grammy. And well, you had other offers from Red Bull or Ferrari, but the McLaren garage is the one you wanted to be your first. So, you had declined and declined until you knew that you could meet the driver that you had been following for so long. 
But now that you finally met him, you wondered why he was such an asshole. 
You pushed down your feelings and continued. “That’s ok. My music isn’t for everyone. But I wanted to congratulate you on your rookie season last year!” 
“Thanks.” 
Ok, Lando knew something was up and he couldn’t take the hurt-puppy-eyes coming from you anymore. The Briton was about to say something, but Zak had decided to interrupt with another celebrity guest. 
“Guys, this is Sabrina, she’s also joining Miss L/n in the garage today. Ladies, we have two headsets for you in the back when we’ll go over some last minute car things if you’d like to listen in!” Zak explained. 
It only hurt when Oscar eyes lit up at your fellow musician, brushing past you to personally introduce himself. Lando was now left with a very sad Grammy winner on his hands. He gently put his arm around your waist to bring you to the side.
When a long sigh escaped your lips, Lando felt awful. 
“Y/n, I swear he’s normally the nicest person on the planet. Oscar always seems to love everyone, no matter the guest.” 
Your eyes flitted over to where Oscar was now animatedly talking to Sabrina about her new album. You let out a scoff. 
“Yeah, everyone but me. Maybe I should have just taken the offer from Red Bull or Ferrari.” 
Lando pouted. He knew that you had been a fan of Oscar’s way back to the start of his F2 season. And then you had purposefully put the word McLaren in many different songs. Hell, your newest album titled “Momentum” was basically a love letter to your beloved team. You even had plans to become an investor once you could make the first payment. 
The Briton felt lost. “I was going to find Max and Charles if you’d like to join me?” 
You took one more look at Oscar, not surprised to see him glare at you from the side. That action made up your mind and you agreed to go with Lando. 
Taking with Max and Charles was like a breath of fresh air. The two were great conversationalists and pretty funny. The Monegasque even invited you into one of the media buildings to look at the behind the scenes, which put you in awe. 
The two rivals, thought, couldn’t understand why you were attached to Lando when you had a giant 81 on the back of your jersey. 
“Have you met Oscar yet?” Charles asked. When you tensed, he knew that he had asked a wrong question. Your expression quickly became sad. 
“Yeah. But I don’t think he likes me very much,” you muttered. 
Max scoffed. “That’s absurd. He’s quiet, but he’s nice to everyone.” 
Lando winced. “But for some reason, he was being really rude and just standoff-ish.”  
You looked so dejected. “At first I thought he might not be a fan of my music, but then he was super smiley with Sabrina and we co-wrote most of mine and her songs. So it’s not the genre.” 
The Briton wanted to try to bring your spirits back up, but he noticed the time and said that you and him had to be back at the garage. You said your goodbyes to the Dutchman and Monegasque before you followed Lando back to the garage. 
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On your way in, Oscar sent you yet another glare as he got ready to be in the car. 
Although he had been mean, you still said, “Good luck.” 
Maybe he heard you or didn’t, but he never responded or acted like he took it to heart. 
When Oscar was able to overtake multiple cars and finish the sprint in P2, you were ecstatic. His terrible attitude did not hinder your joy for the Aussie. You didn’t secretly call yourself the #1-Piastri fan for nothing. Sabrina laughed next to you as you hopped up and down, glad that your driver finished well in the points. 
It was sad for Lando who didn’t make it past P5, but the Briton explained that qualifying for the actual race is when it truly counted. 
You watched with stars in your eyes as Oscar walked up after Charles to be interviewed by Jensen Button. 
The former driver asked the first question. 
“Oscar, first congrats on the P2, you did a lot of overtaking. Was that in the strategy?” 
The Aussie laughed, really showing that he indeed was polite to everyone. 
“Well the strategy is always to win, but we were close with all the upgrades. It’s been good and I’m ready for the races to come.” 
A few more questions were asked and exchanged before Jensen somehow brought you up. 
“So we saw that Y/n L/n and Sabrina Carpenter were both in the McLaren garage. And we all know that Y/n is a massive McLaren fan as well as your fan. Have you listen to any of her songs?”
Many people definitely saw the change in facial expression when your name was brought up. The smiley Oscar was replaced with a bored one. 
“Well, I don’t really listen to artists who bash or make fun of my driving.” 
Jensen gave me a very curious look. “She actually praises you in most of her songs.” 
The Aussie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, like the one where she said she crashed her McLaren like Piastri.” 
Your eyes widened, along with everyone else in the garage. Those were definitely not the lyrics to one of your songs. Lando also had wide eyes and he was looking right at you, who seemed to be on the verge of a mental breakdown. 
“I would never do that,” you said, looking into Lando’s hazel eyes. The Briton looked puzzled. He had specifically played or sung songs for the Aussie that mentioned McLaren or Oscar. 
You kind of just sank into the background, trying to process what could have gone wrong. Lando on the other hand raced to catch Oscar as he was walking into the garage.
“Mate, what are you doing?” Oscar asked as Lando was directing him to one of the driver rooms. Lando slammed the door and turned to Oscar. 
“What are the lyrics to Y/n’s song?” 
There was another eye roll. “Lando you sung them to me like two weeks ago.” 
Land shook his head. “But tell me.” 
Oscar huffed, “Small talk, big love. Act like you don’t care but I disagree. When I crashed my McLaren like Piastri.” 
“Stop!” 
The Aussie cocked his head. 
Lando continued, “Those aren’t the lyrics you muppet. It’s ‘When I crashed my McLaren like past me.’ A few years ago, Y/n used to wreck a lot of cars at a teen. She got better and decided to buy a McLaren when your seat was announced for 2023. And then she crashed it on accident after she got broken up with.” 
A look of realization washed over Oscar’s face and then a look of dread. A giant sigh left his lips. Lando thought he was going to pass out or something but the second Papaya driver quickly ran out of the room. He stopped short of where you had sat in the back of the garage and quietly started to step closer. 
Your head was in your hands but you looked up when you heard footsteps. You were shocked to be looking at Oscar, who had a guilty look on his face. You shot up out of your seat and began to ramble. 
“Oscar, I swear, I would never back and diss you in any of my songs. You’re truly my favorite driver and I was so excited to meet you. I have put your name in my songs before, but it’s only been praise. I’m so sorry that you’ve been thinking that I’d make fun of your driving and-“ 
Oscar held out a hand to stop you. 
But now it was his turn to ramble, hands flying everywhere. 
“You’re sorry? I’m sorry. I’ve been an utter asshole to you all day. That was horrible of me. Lando sung me the song a few weeks ago, but it was pretty mumbled because he couldn’t remember some of the words and I heard Piastri instead of past me and I just thought the worst and…” 
Lando was having a field day watching you watch Oscar with stars in your eyes as he apologized over and over again. 
The Briton pretended to dust his hands off as he watched Oscar pull out his phone and offer it to you. 
“Another day, another matchmaking completed.”  
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y/n_l/n has posted
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y/n_l/n thank you so much McLaren for the amazing day today! It was truly a dream come true to meet my all time favorite driver! little surprise for everyone else - Florida is yours (inspired by a special someone) 🧡
liked by mclaren, its_papaya, oscarpiastri, landoscar, and 3,205,195 others
queeny/n OH MY GOSH NEW SONG AFTER THE MIAMI RACE??
y/n&f1 wouldn't the song be written for Logan then?
y/nxoscar she said inspired - didn't mean that it's actually about him
oscah81 P2 SPRINT RACE AND POSSIBLE NEW WAG
landonorris I too would like a song pls
charles_leclerc we all know she wrote golden about me ♥️
maxverstappen1 I claim midnight rain then
landonorris ☹️
y/n_l/n it's ok lando - working on one now!
y/nsgrammy to think that Oscar thought she dissed him when she's like his biggest fan ever
oscargirlie y/n get's us with the second picture
oscarpiastri was the second picture necessary? and Florida? when did you have time to write that??
y/n_l/n 1. yes, it was very necessary, 2. I wrote it when you ignored me
oscarpiastri and you still wrote me a song?
y/n_l/n of course! most of my songs had you written in mind ☺️
oscarpiastri so. . . dress?
y/n_l/n 😳🤭
loscar-land your honor I love them
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis
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heeology · 2 days
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i want nobody but you | p.sh
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synopsis → you and sunghoon have known each other your whole lives and although you've both dealt with jokes from classmates since elementary school on how you two would end up together, that never ended up happening; you two would brush it off and then move on. you never really thought about pursuing something with him romantically, especially since you like things with a more casual approach. but once sunghoon's girlfriend becomes a part of the picture, you can't help but feel these feelings consume you. being the way you are, however, you managed to push them down and you at least thought you got over them until you realize maybe they never left at all. or even worse: they were always there.
feat. → yujin (ive) & sungchan (riize)
genre → college au, friends to somewhat enemies to lovers, romance, smut, angst (eh, ig), slowburn (ig? srry lmao)
pairing → nonidol!sunghoon x fem!reader
warnings → MDNI, smoking !! (reader and sunghoon both smoke), drinking, cursing, mention(s?) of death, mention of hookups, reader is called and referred to (sometimes self referred to) as a: slut/whore; slutshaming, !! potential sh reference (pinching/hitting self; dk if that counts, but it's not mentioned after) !!, mentions of sex (obvi)
w.c. → 22.7k
a/n → long time no see lol. lmk if u would be interested in seeing some pics i took at the enha concert i went to :)) (i won't do vids because i was screaming like a baboon lmao) p.s. bear w me bc ik this is a long one, but i feel like i owe you all since i've been gone for practically a century, but pls give it a chance, i'm on my knees begging bc this took 3 days
disclaimer !! → i don’t ship any idols i portray as dating in this story irl nor do i have the intent to portray anyone in this story in a negative light, this is just for creative purposes, babes <3; this is all just fiction, take it lightly pls and thx
!!DO NOT COPY OR REPOST!!
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Today has been a long day. You groan as you take a seat on a bench somewhere near the lecture hall you just left and you close your eyes as you lean back against it. You had originally thought your senior year of high school was torturous, but being a senior in college was far worse. Your eyebrows furrow a bit when you feel the weight of the bench shift a bit, meaning someone has taken a seat beside you. Your eyes open a bit and you turn your head to see Sunghoon next to you. A sigh escapes your lips and you turn your head away, closing your eyes again. 
Sunghoon sits there for a moment, looking at you. Lately, you two haven’t hung out as much and although he admittedly forgot to text you for the past week and half, you were still his best friend. He could argue, though, that “the phone works both ways”, so you’re not exactly innocent either. He’s seen you around campus, hanging out with some members of the basketball team, mainly the captain: Sungchan. You didn’t seem bothered by the lack of contact between the two of you, either, so it didn’t bother him or make him feel guilty that you haven’t hung out in just a few days. No…not at all.
“Nice to see you, too.” he mumbles. You stay quiet, honestly close to falling asleep on the bench, especially with the warm breeze that is gently blowing. He narrows his eyes a bit and leans back against the bench. He does the same as you, closing his eyes as he relaxes, but he frowns to himself. “You and Sungchan seem to be close.” he says, not really even understanding why he brought it up in the first place. 
This piques your interest. “What about him.” you say rather than ask, still keeping your eyes closed.
Sunghoon shrugs, still not really sure why he cares who you hang out with or how often or who they are or…anything like that. Maybe it upsets him to think about the fact that you might replace him with someone cooler as your best friend; maybe he was too lame for you. How juvenile, he thought to himself. But that’s what it felt like, to him, at least. “Nothing. I’ve just seen you guys hanging out a lot, that’s all.” Sunghoon replies.
“How would you know that; we haven’t really hung out or talked lately.” you reply, not meaning to sound snarky, but it most likely came across that way.
Sunghoon scoffs softly. “I have eyes; I can still see who you talk to.”
You open your eyes a bit and turn your head to look at him. “Stalker.” you tease. 
Sunghoon opens his eyes, almost as if he can feel you looking at him and he rolls them, not amused. “Am not…I’m just trying to start a conversation or whatever.”
“About the people I talk to?”
Sunghoon shrugs. “About anything…” It stays quiet for a moment. “It’s just been a while since we’ve talked.”
“And whose fault is that?” You ask, rhetorically.
Sunghoon frowns. “Well, I’ve just been busy-”
You scoff, “Yeah. I know.” You reply dryly.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Just that that’s what you always say whenever we don’t talk to each other for a while. Like, I get it, you’re dating Yujin, big whoop.”
You’ve considered the possibility that he has just been busy with schoolwork, but no matter how many times you would give him the benefit of the doubt, it always ended up being because he was hanging out with Yujin. You weren’t really mad, per say, just annoyed. Severely annoyed. But what could you do? Ever since they started dating freshman year, you’ve felt like you were on the backburner. Which, again, you can’t really be upset about that. Afterall, she’s his girlfriend, whether you liked it or not. There is nothing wrong with her, you two got along fine, even if you don’t really talk or are even friends. You don’t hate her, not for any valid reasons, anyway. Still, despite how many people you know, Sunghoon is your only real friend and always has been. But it’s times like these when it feels like he means more to you than you mean to him.
“She’s my girlfriend.” He says, matter-of-factly.
You roll your eyes at his statement. “I know that,” you retort with annoyance, “you only ever bring it up every chance you get.”
“You seriously can’t be annoyed that I spend time with my own girlfriend.” He responds with the same tone.
Sometimes, Sunghoon gets caught up in things. Like being with Yujin, for example. He’ll be with her and then it just slips his mind to respond to a text of yours or to ask if you want to do something, he can’t help it. He knows that he’s your best friend and he’s certain that you’re his, too. Sure, Yujin means a lot to him, but you mean more, whether he would admit that or not. He just wants to make everything balanced, for everything to work out. But a part of him feels like something has been off since he started dating Yujin. Sure, he’s had other girlfriends, but never one for longer than a few months. This relationship is important to him. What if Yujin is the one? He can’t screw it up and he’s afraid to, so he makes sure to spend as much time with her as he can. He thought you would understand, but apparently not.
You’ve met Sunghoon’s other girlfriends, none of which bothered you as much as Yujin. Maybe because this one seems more serious. Maybe because she seems more important to him. The thought makes your stomach curdle. This whole situation makes your stomach curdle. You shouldn’t care so much, but you do. You hate that. “Whatever.” you reply, honestly not having thought of anything better to respond with. What were you supposed to say to that? Of course you understood, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck.
“Besides, like I said, you and Sungchan have been hanging out a lot recently. Don’t act like you’ve never blown me off to hang out with him.” Sunghoon says.
“Barely.”
“Not barely. A lot. ‘Oh, Sungchan invited me to his basketball game to watch’, ‘Oh, Sungchan invited me to a party,’ ‘Oh, Sungchan wants to hook up’, ‘Oh, Sungchan this and Sungchan that’.” Sunghoon mocks, annoyed.
You frown. “Why do you care? You’ve got a girlfriend, so just hang out with her instead.”
Sunghoon frowns as well. “That’s not the point. The point is that you ditch me just the same to hang out with a guy who you’re not even dating. You don’t talk to me sometimes when you’re with him or another guy, so why are you so upset that I do the same with Yujin, who I’m actually dating?”
“Stop rubbing in the fact that you’re dating someone. Good for you, who gives a shit? So what if I do the same? It’s only because you do it first!” you argue back. You grab your backpack and stand up as you put it on. You start walking away from him and he watches you as you leave.
“Great talk!” he calls out to you in a sarcastic manner.
He didn’t mean to make you upset or try to “rub his relationship” in your face, he would never try to intentionally make you upset. So, why did he care? He doesn’t, it’s as simple as that. Maybe you doing the same thing to him with Sungchan bothered him a little. Maybe you wanting to spend your time instead with someone else you’re not even dating bothered him a little. But it’s not like he actually cared or anything. He knows he can’t tell you what to do or who to see, so why does he care? He knows he blew you off, so why didn’t he just apologize? Why did he bring up Sungchan in the first place? Sunghoon sits on the bench for a moment, rethinking things. Why was he acting like you were ignoring him when it was kind of the other way around? He sighs and closes his eyes again. He’ll figure it out later.
-
You let out a long yawn as the dim glow from your computer screen shines on your face. It’s three in the morning, and sure, you have a class tomorrow, but you can’t sleep and figure you can just skip your lecture anyway. Even if your brightness was all the way down, it still hurt your eyes every so often, so you would close them to make them feel better while you listened to the show you were watching. You hear your phone ding and your eyes open, your hand reaching for your phone to see the text.
“are you awake?” Sunghoon texts.
He knows you are. You almost always are, which is why he knew you would see the message. Although, he did anticipate the idea of you ignoring him. You were good at things like that, things that required a stubborn attitude. He didn’t mind your stubbornness, though. He didn’t mind anything when it came to you. He waited a bit, sitting in the darkness with just the light of his phone screen, his thumb gently tapping it so it doesn’t automatically turn off as he waits for you to text back. 
“yeah.” you text back.
It took you a few minutes and in all honesty, you almost didn’t respond. But you missed him, which even if he asks directly, you would deny. You wonder if he missed you too, but you shake that thought away.
“still pissy?”
This makes you laugh a little. Yes, you were, but you still found it a little funny.
“shut up.” you text back.
“wanna hang out?”
You sigh. Now he wants to? It takes you a while to reply with anything as you just stare at his message.
“can u bring the usual?” you reply.
He smiles at your text. “duh” he texts back.
You smile a bit, looking forward to actually hanging out with him. The whole argument was dumb anyway and you just wanted your best friend back. And after a while of waiting, you hear a knock on your dorm room door. You get up from your bed and unlock it, opening it as you step outside. He smiles softly when he sees you and you smile a bit back. You both quietly leave your dorm building before going outside and sitting on the curb. He sets the plastic bag he was carrying between you two and opens a bottle of beer before handing it to you. You take it and he opens his own, both of you taking a sip as a cool breeze blows softly. 
“Sorry about earlier,” he says quietly, “and for not talking to you for a week. I just got caught up with Yujin, you know?”
You take another drink, not really interested in discussing this anymore. “It’s fine.”
“I also wasn’t trying to rub her and I into your face and make you feel bad or anything, it’s just…” he trails off. It’s silent for a moment as you both drink. “This week has been shitty.” he mumbles.
“Amen to that.” you reply. He chuckles softly and you both clink your bottles before smiling and taking another drink.
“How’s your love life going, anyway?” he asks, genuinely curious.
Sure, there were other things he wanted to talk about, could talk about, but this is what slipped out of his mouth first. He was actually curious, he truly wants to know. He just wants to see you happy. 
You shrug, “The same; just hook ups.”
He looks at you for a moment. That’s it? You’ve been hooking up with people since the beginning of high school. Sure, you’ve dated some guys before, but they were all assholes; Sunghoon never liked them. He couldn’t stand them, to put it plainly. You deserve better, and he knows that. But he also knows you’re not into relationships. You like things to be simple and direct. But when it comes to how you feel, he knew you weren’t very expressive with that. Only when it comes to getting what you want. He kind of admires that about you.
“So…no one in particular? You just kind of…go after who you think is the hottest?”
You grin, “Something like that.” you take a sip, “So…how are things going with Yujin?”
You honestly hate that you asked. Why would you? Why would you want to hear about that? Surely, things must be going wonderfully if he’s so wrapped up in all that is her. But you’re still friends. It’s normal to ask these kinds of questions, right? Maybe he won’t really say much anyway and you’ll be a good friend for even asking. That’s what you’re hoping for, at least.
"Well... things have been kind of weird. She's been acting kinda distant recently; I don't know how else to explain it. She just seems really bored all the time. Like, the sex is good but it just seems like she's not into me anymore or something." he replies.
You give him a weird look as he brings up the topic of sex with Yujin. Gross. Just...Gross.
“Describing sex with your ‘girlfriend’ as good is never a good thing.” you say as you laugh a bit, taking a sip. 
Sunghoon scoffs a bit. Why did it seem like you were happy to hear that? It irritated him a bit, but he brushed it off. “Well, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s more like…it’s become something that’s routine.”
“Yeah, that’s probably not a good sign.”
Sunghoon sighs. "I know... it's just so weird though. I mean, we've been together for so long, and she's never been the type to get bored like this. It just sucks. I'm worried if something happened between us that's making her not want to be with me anymore."
You look at him for a moment as he drinks. You hate seeing him upset and you know that Yujin means a lot to him, especially since this is his first big relationship. You frown a bit as you drink. “Have you asked her?” you take another sip, “Aren’t people in relationships supposed to communicate and shit?”
"Yeah, I asked her and she said everything was fine, but like... I don't know. I just have a feeling that she's not telling me something, and I've tried asking her multiple times, but every time, she always says everything's fine." he takes another drink. “That’s pretty much what I’ve been spending last week doing, just…trying to fix what may not even be broken.” he mumbles.
You feel bad now for getting upset at him for blowing you off. It makes sense and you just got defensive again, not really knowing what he was doing. You sit there for a moment, not really sure what to say. Sunghoon didn’t mind the silence, though. He was trying to focus on Yujin and figure out why things feel this way when maybe, they aren’t even that way at all. Maybe it’s him. He isn’t sure, but he is sure that he already feels a million times better being with you, even if it is just sitting next to each other on a curb in silence.
“Do you cum?” you ask.
Sunghoon chokes on his beer a little, hitting his chest a bit as he coughs. He looks at you, not expecting your question at all, and as for you, well, you weren’t really expecting to ask it. It kind of just…came out. Your initial thought process was to ask more about his feelings on things in the relationship, seeming more like a routine, but it kind of led to you wondering if he even cums. In your defense, you thought that if he doesn’t, then maybe the relationship is going downhill. You look at him, as if what you asked was totally normal, taking another sip of your beer. He looks back at you, seeming to have processed what you asked.
“...yeah, pretty much every time.”
“Does she?”
Again, not something you really want to know, but you do want to help him.
“...sometimes, but most of the time she doesn’t.”
You suck air through your teeth, “Uh-oh.”
“It’s not a big deal, you know, so what if sometimes we don’t? It’s not about that, it’s just about…connecting or whatever.” he mumbles as he takes a sip.
“So, then what? Do you guys just like…do it yourself?”
“Yeah, so?”
You laugh. You can’t help it, it’s just too funny. Not his obvious pain with his relationship kind of going south, but the fact that he finds this to be normal. You at least found that funny.
“What’s so funny?” he asks, pissed off, but also slightly embarrassed.
“Dude, I'm not a relationship expert, but like...shouldn't people who have sex, I don't know, finish every time? I mean, I have never really had that happen often with any of the guys I hook up with, but hey, what do I know.” 
"Well... I guess, but it's not a big deal to me. As long as she enjoys it, that's what's important. And, it's not like it happens all the time. Sometimes she does finish, but it's just... well, not as often as I would hope..." he takes another sip.
You roll your eyes to yourself. Kind of out of instinct. If you’re going to be frank, you don’t give a damn about her.
You shrug, “I don’t know,” you take another sip, “you say you don’t cum sometimes, how come?”
“I don’t know…it just happens?”
You shake your head, “Nah, there’s a reason.”
“But the reason is dumb and I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” he takes another sip.
“Do you think she’s hot?”
What a stupid question. You wish you didn’t ask it. Why would you want to hear him talk about yet again how hot he thinks she is. It makes your blood boil and you would rather bash yourself over the head with your beer bottle than hear him talk about how perfect she is. But, there is a small, small part of you hoping for a certain answer. Only a small part.
“Of course I do.” he replies, simply.
“So, then, what’s the problem?”
“Sometimes I have a hard time finishing, happy? Jesus…” he mumbles as he drinks some more.
You roll your eyes. You’ve known each other your whole lives, you know when he’s lying.
“Mmm,” you take another sip, “no, you see, sometimes when I hook up with guys, I suddenly don't feel attracted to them, so then sometimes I don't finish. So do you just like sometimes not like her or something?”
He shakes his head, "No, I'm always attracted to her. But... sometimes I have a hard time finishing, and I don't know why that is."
“What do you think about?” you ask, kind of quietly.
A part of you didn’t want to ask that, besides, this conversation was becoming weird. But that small, small part of you was so desperately hoping for a certain answer. Fucked up? Yeah, most definitely, but that didn’t seem to stop you.
“About what?” he asks, actually clueless.
“When you’re having sex, what do you think about?” you ask again, taking a sip of your beer.
“...about her, that’s what you’re supposed to do, so,” he trails off, “Sometimes I…think about other things...” he answers, blushing a bit.
“Like what?”
“Just…random stuff. Why do you want to know anyway?” he asks, getting slightly defensive.
“Maybe that's what's distracting you. I don't know, spice things up with her or something. Or have an actual conversation with her about how you feel or whatever.” you mutter as you finish your beer.
He takes another sip of his beer. “Why are you acting like some sort of relationship counselor? You’ve never even really been in a relationship yourself.”
Maybe he wanted to piss you off with what he said, but only so you could back off. “Spice things up”? Yujin and him are fine, he’s deciding that right here, right now. He doesn’t want your help with this or to even discuss it anymore with you. It feels weird. Besides, he doesn’t want you to think that he’s…not good at sex. Not for any other reasons, just that…he doesn’t want you to think that about him.
You set your bottle down and look at him. “Because you’re my friend? I don’t know. Why do you care?” You hold your hand out, wanting him to hand the cigarettes he brought while your other hand digs into your sweatpants pocket for your lighter.
He reaches into the bag and hands them to you, knowing full well you could have grabbed them yourself, yet he still obliged. “So, in all of your hooking up, have you ever had feelings for anyone you hooked up with? And not those bullshit feelings for your douchebag exes, like actual feelings. Or have they all just been hookups?” he asks, hoping to change the subject.
You open the pack, “Hookups.”
“Every single one?”
“Mhm.” you answer, taking one out and putting it into your mouth, lighting it as you take a drag.
“So you’ve never fallen in love with anyone you’ve hooked up with?”
You laugh, “Fallen in love? How stupid.” you say as you take another drag.
“Okay, love might be a strong word, but like, have you never developed feelings for any of the people you’ve hooked up with?” he asks, finishing his beer.
“Nah.”
"Right, right. So, you're just all about hookups then, and that's cool, no shame or anything; I get it. But you've never felt even just a little bit of loneliness from it?" he asks as he sets his bottle down. You ignore his question, taking another drag. He knows by your reaction that he’s said something that bothers you. Whenever anything is mentioned that may reveal how you truly feel, you just block it off and move on. He sighs, not too sure why he bothered asking since you always ignore these types of topics. Sometimes, he wished you wouldn’t. He wished you would be more open with him. It feels like he can talk to you about anything and everything, even if sometimes he doesn’t want to, but he does anyway because you…well, you’re you. "I mean, it's gotta get kinda boring... always hooking up, never really connecting with anyone. Unless you don't care about that kind of thing."
“Love is stupid.” you reply flatly.
What a groundbreaking opinion. Truly, nobody has ever felt or thought the same thing. Great stuff. Sunghoon sighs at your answer, not really getting why you won’t just tell him. He wants you to. He can’t really explain why. It doesn’t have to do with wanting to get some satisfaction out of helping you or changing you, but rather, sometimes he feels like he knows nothing about you. You’re important to him, more than you could possibly understand, but still, sometimes, you seem so distant; like a stranger. He just wants to know that you trust him.
“So, just because love hasn’t exactly worked out in your life, you think love is stupid? I don’t really think that’s fair…just because your ex boyfriends were assholes doesn’t mean that true love doesn’t exist.”
For some reason, him talking about true love pisses you off. It pisses you off greatly. You can feel your skin crawl and anger boiling up inside you, so you take a drag from your cigarette, blowing out the smoke, wishing it was something else you were getting rid of.
“It’s not about them.” you take another drag, “Do you love Yujin?”
You think you know the answer already. No, you know the answer indefinitely. There is only one answer. Why would he have spent the past three–almost four years–dating her if he didn’t? You think about all the times he talked about her when they first started dating. You try not to, but your mind recalls all the details, how he said them, what he said, how he looked while he was talking. It made you sick.
His heart sinks a little when you ask the question. He stares at you for a moment, not responding to your question right away. He takes a long deep breath before he answers, “Yes.” You sit silent. You heard his answer, but you don’t want to acknowledge it. You take another drag from your cigarette, a longer one this time, blowing out the smoke slowly as you tap some of the tobacco from the butt of it off. “Do you…not believe me?” he asks, watching you. He can tell something is on your mind, you’re just having trouble saying it. He’s not asking to be snarky or anything, he asks in more of a gentle tone, just wanting you to open up or at least just say something remotely close to how you feel.
“No, I do.” you answer quietly. For some reason, it hurts to say that. It’s true, though; you do believe him…unfortunately.
Silence consumes the both of you, just sitting on the curb as time passes. Crickets chip softly in the distance and the subtle burn of the tobacco from your cigarette fills it a bit, but not enough. He stares at you, both annoyed and concerned. 
“Then what is it? Are you trying to say there’s something wrong with my relationship?” he asks, suddenly defensive. Even he, himself, doesn’t know why he’s suddenly so defensive about it, especially since he brought up the issue earlier, but he doesn’t like thinking that you think there is something wrong.
“Jesus, it’s not like that.” you respond, knowing full and well it is like that.
“Then spit it out; what are you trying to say?”
“Shut up.”
You take another drag and he rolls his eyes, annoyed. “You know, you’re so annoying sometimes.”
“So are you.”
“Yeah, I know, but you’re worse.”
You take another drag, genuinely wanting him to shut up, or for things to be normal. Or better yet, for things not to be complicated. “Go cry about it to your girlfriend.”
“Screw you.”
“Ditto.”
“Whatever.” he says, pissed off.
“Yeah, whatever.” you mumble as you take another drag.
He continues to look at you, pissed off at how you don’t seem to care about anything. He used to like that a lot about you, how you never cared about what people thought and are able to brush anything off. Maybe “used to” is a bit strong, he still likes that about you, but for right now, it’s incredibly infuriating. 
“You know, I’ve noticed that you always avoid giving direct answers to questions. Maybe that’s why you’re so scared of commitment; Not willing to really speak your mind out of fear of hurting someone’s feelings or your own.” he says, hoping this would piss you off enough to just say how you feel.
You roll your eyes, “Shut up.” you say as you continue smoking your cigarette.
“No, I won't shut up. In fact, I'm gonna keep talking because this is one of the rare occasions where we’re actually having a serious conversation and not just talking about petty stuff.”
You roll your eyes again. “I don’t want to.” you reply, simply.
“Too bad. because I am really curious about it. So, I’m just gonna keep asking questions. Like, have you ever experienced real heartbreak before? Because you seem like the type that just throws people away and moves on with no remorse.” You become quiet. Sure, you weren’t answering before, well, barely, anyway. But this time, you feel like you’re shrinking. That type of quiet. The type of quiet you become when you feel like you got caught and you don’t want to admit to what you did. You just smoke your cigarette. “And you don’t just avoid answering questions about your romantic life, either. You do the same thing when it comes to family, friends, and anyone else. You just push people away and never actually let anyone get to know the real you.” 
“You know the real me.” you say, looking at him. In all honesty, you were insulted. He was seriously telling you that he “doesn’t know the real you” after you guys have been friends since you were two years old? What does that say about your friendship?
“No, I really don’t. All I know about you is the surface layer stuff that you’re willing to share, but I don't actually know you. No one does. Because you never let anyone get close enough.” he says as he looks you directly in the eyes, meaning every word he says. Well, maybe not every word, but it is how he feels. He doesn’t want you to get frustrated, but if that’s what it takes for you to finally say how you feel, then so be it. You do feel yourself getting frustrated and you look away, taking another drag. “And don’t deny it, ‘cause you know it’s true. You just push people away and never let yourself be vulnerable, ‘cause if you did, then they could use that vulnerability against you. And god forbid anybody ever find out about your deepest insecurities-” 
“Shut the fuck up.” you say, feeling anger seethe out of you. He sits there, somewhat stunned by your response. Not exactly that you became angry, but more so that he actually got a reaction out of you. He watches you as you put your cigarette out and stand up. “I’m going back to my room.” you mutter. 
He stands up. “Seriously?” he says as he sees you start to walk away. He scoffs. “You’re just going to leave? Like that? Whatever.” he mumbles as he grabs the pack of cigarettes you put back into the bag (the pack he specifically bought for you and always buys whenever you guys hang out like this). He opens it and grabs one, lighting it as he sees you turn around. You walk back over to him and snatch the pack of cigarettes from his hand. “The hell?” he asks, annoyed, as he tries to grab it back.
You hold it out of his reach. “You don’t even like red Marlboros.” you say, almost tempted to take the one out of his mouth, too just to spite him.
“Give it back.” he says sternly as he takes a small drag from the one in his mouth, holding it between his fingers as he glares at you.
“No.”
“It’s my pack of cigarettes.”
“That you bought for me.”
“And I want it back.”
“Well, tough shit, I’m not giving it back.”
“Give it.” he says as he holds out his hand. You ignore him and turn around, starting to walk away. He takes another drag, grimacing because you’re right, he doesn’t like this brand, but he’s only doing this to spite you. He gets even more pissed off just seeing you walk away. “Why are you always such a pain in the ass?”
“Could ask you the same thing.” you yell back.
He quickly puts out the cigarette and puts the bottles into the bag before catching up to you. “I'm not the one who’s always being super mean and acting all mysterious about everything. Like, what’s with all the attitude and snarky comments? You’ve been extra shitty lately.”
“Fuck you.”
He scoffs, “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You know, you’re being shitty, you just don’t wanna admit it.”
You stop walking and turn to look at him, throwing the pack at him. “Then go away.”
He grits his teeth and grabs the pack from the ground. He looks at you, “Whatever. I'm leaving. But just know, one of these days, you’re going to actually push someone away for good.”
“Hopefully it’s you.” you say as you cross your arms.
“Yeah, me too. Because I am so fed up with your bullshit.”
“Great. Go away.”
He rolls his eyes and walks past you, his arm bumping into yours purposefully as he heads back to his dorm.
-
As Sunghoon makes his way to his lecture, he sees Yujin in the distance talking to some of her friends. He thinks about your conversation last night. He had hopes of confiding in you a bit more about how he felt, but of course that’s not the way things panned out. He had no time to focus on that, even if he was feeling even worse now that he possibly lost his best friend for good. Shit…did he really lose you for good? He feels his blood run cold, but he’s trying to forget it and focus on her. She’s his girlfriend, he has to remember that. He walks up to her, smiling a bit. She looks at him.
“Oh…hey.” she says softly.
“Hey…can we talk for a minute?” She nods her head and stands still. Sunghoon glances at her friends and then looks back at her. “...in private?” Yujin glances at her friends before following Sunghoon over into the library, taking a seat at a table near one of the back bookshelves, a little bit of space between the two of them. “Is there a reason you’ve been acting like this lately? Do you not…want to be with me anymore?” Sunghoon asks, just getting straight to the point.
Yujin is quiet for a moment. “Everything is fine.” she says.
He crosses his arms, feeling himself getting frustrated. Why can’t people just be direct like you? Yeah, you’re not really direct with your feelings, but you are when it comes to anything else. “Are you sure? Because you've been really distant. We haven't been talking as often, you barely want to spend time with me... and it feels like you're avoiding being intimate with me, too. I had to almost beg you to spend time with me last week. Is there really nothing? Are you sure everything is fine?” Yujin listens and stays quiet. Sunghoon sighs. "You know, couples are supposed to communicate and shit, right? If something is bothering you, just come out and say it." Sure, he took a page from your book with what you said last night and perhaps some of what you said rang true after all, but he’s not really looking to give you a “you were right” moment at this time.
“You being friends with her bothers me.” Yujin says as she crosses her arms.
Sunghoon freezes for a moment, taken aback by her response. “...are you being serious?” he asks, not totally sure if she’s just messing with him.
“You hang out with her more than me to the point that I had to ask you to stop texting her whenever we would hang out and you always say you’re “just best friends”, but I don’t believe you. Do you have feelings for her?”
“Do YOU think I have feelings for her?” Sunghoon asks, becoming defensive while also avoiding answering her question directly. 
“Yes.” she answers, simply.
“What, do you think I’ll dump you for her or something?”
"She's a slut. You know it, I know it, everybody knows it. I don't care if you guys are close, I'm worried she is going to make a move on you and then you break up with me just for her to use you once and then ruin you; She's bad news." Yujin says.
He feels his jaw drop a bit at what she says. Did she seriously just say that? And so boldly? He feels himself become upset about the way she talks about you. He wants to defend you, he always has, but he frowns. What if this leads to Yujin breaking up with him? You did say last night that you two were done with each other, so why does it matter? He doesn’t agree with Yujin, but he wants to save this relationship…
“You really think I'm that naive? That I'd fall for a girl like her? Just because we’re close friends doesn’t mean I automatically get feelings for her and forget about you. You know I'm smart enough to not get mixed up with someone like her.” he says, feeling like his heart is breaking as he says it. He wants Yujin to feel reassured, but after saying this…it doesn’t feel worth it.
“So you agree.” Yujin says.
Sunghoon sits there, feeling like he’s about to throw up. Why is this so hard? Why can’t he just say ‘yes’ and move on? Why can’t he be happy with Yujin? He just nods his head. “I wouldn’t fall for someone like her.” he says extremely quietly, almost as if he never wanted those words to leave his mouth. But they did and it was too late.
Yujin smiles, satisfied by his answer. She leans in and kisses his lips quickly, “I believe you.” she says softly.
Sunghoon hesitates, not glad that she believes him. Not glad that she said those things about you. Not glad that he said those things about you. He’s just not happy. He gives her a small smile and kisses her cheek quickly. “I’m glad.”
-
You are sitting on a bench, scrolling through your phone as you wait for your next lecture to start soon. Sunghoon sees you as he exits his lecture hall and his gaze lingers on you for a moment. He sighs to himself a bit, feeling like he was being pulled in two different directions. The more he thinks about it, he feels as though Yujin was giving him an ultimatum to choose you or her. If she said it outright, there isn’t a cell in his body that would hesitate to choose you. He thinks back to his conversation with Yujin in the library and he feels sick; he knows he did something wrong. 
He walks over to you and takes a seat next to you, just wanting to make up and move on. To his surprise, however, you get up immediately and take your bag before walking away. He sits there, confused, but figures you’re still upset about the argument last night. He gets up and he follows you before catching up and gently grabbing your arm, but you end up taking it away and start walking again. He bites the inside of his cheek before stepping in front of you, “Why are you walking away from me?”
“Get away from me.”
“No.” he said as quickly as the words left your mouth.
You look at him, feeling your eyes sting, hot tears wanting to form, but you blink them away. “You should probably go find your girlfriend, you wouldn’t want to be seen hanging out with a slut like me, right?” you ask rhetorically.
“Hey-,” he cuts you off, frowning instantly when you call yourself that. “Stop it…you know I don’t see you that way.”
“That’s a fucking lie; I heard you talking to Yujin. Or are you surprised about that too since you were in the library and someone like me couldn’t possibly be in a place like that.” you say as you cross your arms, swallowing as if that will help mask your clear frustration.
“...what?” he asks quietly, freezing as he realizes what you’re saying.
“I heard you. I heard you agree with her when she called me a slut. I heard you say you "would never be stupid to fall for someone like me". Well, fuck you. Go be with your perfect girlfriend, asshole.” you say before you push past him, swallowing again, but this time to stop yourself from crying.
“Wait-” he tries to grab your arm again, but you pull it away and keep walking. He feels his heart sink as he watches you walk away. The world felt as if it just collapsed. He feels like he’s sinking and as he watches you become further from him, he feels like he’s lost everything. He’s holding his breath, not necessarily realizing he is, almost as if he exhales, he’s not sure he has the strength to take another breath knowing he’s hurt you; he doesn’t deserve to.
-
Everything moves in slow motion, all voices muffled, as Sunghoon feels himself being dragged inside of a party by Yujin. He can hear and see her laughing and talking with her friends as they walk inside the loud and crowded atmosphere, but he feels as if he’s hollow. He stands there like a zombie as Yujin talks and greets some of her friends. He’s not sure how it happened, especially since it was almost midnight and he honestly just wanted to go to sleep, but he somehow ended up here. His eyes felt heavy as they looked around the room, but he subconsciously stood up straighter when his eyes landed on you. It was like he had been resuscitated, his heart beating rapidly as he sees you and then he sees him.
Sunghoon rolls his eyes, noticing how Sungchan was standing closely to you, how his eyes scanned every inch of your body with some stupid, smug smirk on his face. Sunghoon rolled his eyes again and grimaced at the sight. He sees how you whisper something into his ear, Sungchan grinning as he places his hand on your hip. Suddenly, Sunghoon’s heart stopped again as his gaze fixates on his hand. His hand grips Yujin’s tightly as he clenches his jaw and his other hand curls into a fist, his fingernails digging into the palm of his hand. His breathing becomes heavy as he sees you smile, smile in a way he’s never had you smile at him before as your hand caresses Sungchan’s cheek while you clearly flirt back with him. Sunghoon was livid. He feels like an extra in his own life as he watches you fall for someone like that.
“Baby…?” Yujin asks, loosening her hand and taking it away from him since he was practically cutting off her circulation.
“I’m fine.” he mumbles, hints of anger and annoyance clear in his tone. He doesn’t look at her as he answers and she catches on.
She looks to where his gaze is and then she looks back at him, upset. “Why are you looking at her?” she asks as she crosses her arms. “You told me you don’t have feelings for her. I’m your girlfriend, not her.”
“Stop, Yujin, it’s not like that…” he mumbles, annoyed as he keeps looking at you and Sungchan. He watches as Sungchan puts his arm around your waist and he feels like the air has just been knocked out of him. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he glares at the two of you, wanting nothing more than to shove him off of you.
Yujin scoffs, “I don’t even see how you could have feelings for a slut like her.” she mumbles, taking a sip of a drink her friend brought for her. Sunghoon keeps his attention on you. How Sungchan keeps you close, whispers in your ear to make you giggle and you indulge in it, how he touches you, and how he looks at you as if he’s some sick animal that wants to devour you. “Did you even hear me?” Yujin asks, pissed off.
“Yeah, I heard you.” Sunghoon mumbles as he continues watching the two of you.
Yujin glares at him and then grabs his hand, dragging him away from her friends. Sunghoon just goes along with it and as Yujin starts dragging him upstairs, Sungchan leas in and kisses you. Sunghoon’s eyes widen as he continues going upstairs with Yujin, her dragging him into an empty bedroom and closes the door behind them. Sunghoon feels like all thoughts had escaped him when he saw that and he stands there with only one thing on his mind: you.
“Let’s have sex.” Yujin says as she looks at him.
Sunghoon snaps out of it and looks at her, feeling like this is his first time seeing her tonight. He looks at her in confusion, not wanting to since he only has you on his mind, but he doesn’t want to upset her any further, so he nods his head. Yujin pulls him towards her and kisses him. He hesitates, feeling himself grimace, but he tries to ignore it and kiss her back. He doesn’t want to be up here with her, he wants to be down there with you. As they continue to kiss, Yujin begins to undress herself and Sunghoon feels himself tense up. He tries to forget about you and focus on her, thinking maybe helping her undress would help, but it doesn’t. Not even a little bit. 
Yujin moves them over to the bed as she keeps kissing him and he sits there, partially kissing her back and also sitting stiff as a board. He knows this is supposed to be hot for him, having a practically naked girl on him, but he only finds himself wishing it was you. Yujin kisses down his neck as she takes off his shirt and he feels like he’s zoning out, not moving a muscle. Yujin moves her hands along his chest and down his body and then stops kissing him as she looks at him.
“You’re not even hard.” she says as she frowns. Sunghoon just stares at her, not necessarily surprised, but he still feels bad. "What the hell do you even like about her? She's a fucking whore who opens her legs for any and every guy. She has nothing else to offer besides her fucking pussy, which probably is already stretched beyond repair." Yujin says, angry. "She's nothing! She's not even special and yet she always gets any guy she wants. Well, why does she get you too?" Yujin tears up. "I'M your girlfriend, not her! Do you even love me?" Yujin asks, frustrated.
Sunghoon knows her anger is justified and he feels awful for feeling like he wants her to be you instead. As he watches and hears her say all of these things, he feels bad for treating her like this, but he also becomes angry at listening to what she’s saying about you. He feels bad for saying it feels like he doesn’t know you, because he does, and he knows you’re nothing like who she says you are.
“Answer me!” Yujin yells.
“I do love you.” Sunghoon says quickly.
“...do you love her?”
He stays quiet. Does he love you? He doesn’t know how to answer that. He knows he cares about you more than anyone else, he knows that even when you two fight, he would never want anyone else but you to be by his side, he knows that you’re the only one who gets him, he knows he likes making you smile and laugh and sometimes when you look at him, he feels like he can just look back at you forever. But is that love? Then, what is it he feels for Yujin? Does he love you and not her? How come he never realized it before? Did he always feel this way?
"Why the hell did you even ask me out? Why did you even ask me to be your girlfriend if all this time, you've wanted her? If all this time you've been in love with her?" Yujin asks, furious.
What is he supposed to say? Has he always been in love with you? He thinks for a moment. He thinks about why he asked her out in the first place, about a week after you hooked up with some guy after you two just started college. Was that the reason? Was it because he just wanted something and he knows deep down, you don’t want the same, so he found it somewhere else? You…everything has always been about you, his whole world has always revolved around you.
Yujin gets up and gets dressed. "If you want to be with her so badly, fine. But just know, she's still a whore. She'll just use you and then toss you aside." Yujin says as she finishes getting dressed. "But by all means, go sleep with that slut. We're done." Yujin says as she leaves the room.
Sunghoon sits on the bed in silence. Just great. Now, he doesn’t have a girlfriend and worst of all, he still can’t have you. He sits there for a moment longer before getting up and putting back on his shirt. Screw this party, he shouldn’t have come anyway. He walks out of the bedroom and goes downstairs, feeling like his mind is in a different place as he walks outside. He stops and notices you sitting on the curb, smoking a cigarette. He feels relieved, not seeing you in Sungchan’s arms, and for a split second, he wishes he could just walk over and take you into his, but he pushes that thought away and just decides to take a seat beside you on the curb instead. You scoot away a bit from him, silence looming over the two of you and he feels even worse. 
“You shouldn’t be sitting here, you know. Your girlfriend might get pissy.” you mumble as you exhale some smoke.
“I’m not with Yujin anymore.”
You pause for a moment, “...I saw you two go upstairs.”
“She just…got upset that I couldn’t get hard. I just had so many thoughts running through my mind…” he trails off, not wanting to ramble on about it.
“Whatever.” you say as you take another drag.
“I wish I never asked her out.” he says before taking a deep breath, feeling like he said something he didn’t even realize he was keeping a secret, not even from himself.
“Why are you telling me this? In case you forgot, I am not your friend anymore. Not after what you and her said about me this morning.” You take another drag, “It's one thing for her to call me a slut, I don't care about her, but you? You agreed with her. You made fun of me. You're supposed to be my best friend and you say I'm a slut and then that you aren't "stupid" enough to date "someone like me"?  Fuck you, honestly. I was so pissed when I heard that. I know we fought the other night, but I never thought you would say that shit about me.” You take another drag. “So stop talking to me about your problems like we're still friends. You want nothing to do with "someone like me"? Well, then, you got it.”
Sunghoon stays silent, feeling as if everything around him is crumbling. You’re sitting maybe a foot away from him, but he feels like you’re on the other side of the planet. “I’m sorry.” he says softly, feeling ashamed to have talked about you like that.
You shake your head and continue smoking. “Whatever.”
“I miss you.” he says suddenly. “And, I shouldn’t have said any of that this morning. I was trying to reassure Yujin at your expense and…that was a big fuck up by me. None of what I said was worth any pain I’ve caused you.”
“Well, I don’t miss you. I don’t even care.”
Sunghoon stays quiet for a moment. “I have to fix this. Not because I feel like it will make me feel better to know I said sorry, because that doesn’t fix anything; that doesn’t make you feel better. I want to fix this because, even if you don’t believe me, I value our friendship more than anything in the world.”
You scoff and don’t reply, blinking away your tears as you continue smoking. “I don’t need you. Think what you want about me, I don’t give a fuck.”
“Hey…” he says tentatively as he notices you blinking away tears. He feels like he got punched in the gut and hates himself for knowing he’s the one that caused you to feel this way. “I know I hurt you…a lot.” he admits. He doesn’t know if you would want to listen to anything else he has to say, but he wants nothing more than for everything to go back to normal. To have you back. To just have you look at him. Anything.
You scoff, “You? As if.” you say as you put out your cigarette. “Don’t flatter yourself. Like I care about your opinion.” you say as you stand up. “I don’t need your pity and I don’t need your friendship. I don’t need you.” you say as you walk away and back into the party.
He doesn’t hesitate to follow you, not wanting to let you go. He can’t. He can’t bear the thought of you actually not being a part of his life, not for one goddamn second. He tries to catch up to you, but he stops in his tracks when he sees you go back over to Sungchan. It feels as though time has stopped and he was cursed with having to watch you be with him for the rest of his life. You whisper something to Sungchan, prompting him to grin and put his hands on your waist. Sunghoon feels like he’s about to collapse as he watches Sungchan whisper something back to you before taking your hand and leading you upstairs. He wants to do something, take you away from him, tell you that you mean so much more and are so much more than whatever Sungchan thinks about you. How you mean everything to him and watching you walk upstairs with some other guy feels as though you are taking away every piece of Sunghoon, breaking him apart. But he doesn’t and an hour passes before you walk back downstairs with Sungchan, his arm around your waist.
Sungchan whispers something in your ear before letting you go and walking over to his friends, all of them laughing and teasing him. You just walk back out of the party, feeling sick to your stomach; as if you just made the biggest mistake of your life; shame. As you walk down the sidewalk, the night suddenly feels much colder than before. You take out your cigarettes and start smoking another one. Sunghoon follows and catches up, “Can I have one?” he asks, not knowing what else to say, but wanting to say something. You stay quiet, but eventually extend the one you were smoking to him. You stop walking as he takes it, taking a drag as he stands beside you. 
You hold out your hand, wanting it back and after he takes another inhale from it, he exchanges it back. You take another drag, staying quiet, as you extend it back to him. He takes it as you two share the cigarette and he hands it back to you, almost wanting to just hold your hand instead. You take a long drag, holding the smoke for a while before slowly exhaling. “...you were right.” you say quietly as you hold the cigarette out for him. “It is lonely.”
He takes the cigarette, feeling hopeful that this is the beginning of an honest conversation, and relieved that you’re opening up. He hands it back to you, “Are you lonely? Do you miss having a relationship?” he asks, softly, wanting to make sure he’s being cautious so he doesn’t hurt you again.
“Not the ones I used to be in, no. Those guys were…well, you know.”
“Yeah…” he mumbles. You sigh and take a seat on the curb. He follows suit, seeing if you’ll say something else, but deciding to break the silence. “So…what kind of guy do you want?” he asks, deep down hoping for a certain answer.��
You don’t answer him and instead, ignore his question. In all honesty, you don’t know. Well, you do, but you’re too scared to admit it. “You were also right about me being a slut.”
“I-I didn’t mean it-”
“You know it, everybody else knows it…and I always knew it.” You take your cigarette back and take a drag. “Hearing you say it sucked, though, but I know it’s the truth.”
“I shouldn’t have said it. I was so caught up in trying to make Yujin feel better and fix things between us when it wasn’t worth it. Not when it came at your expense.”
“I know.”
“I should’ve still stuck up for you. It didn’t matter if she was my girlfriend, you don’t deserve to be talked about like that.”
You shrug and hand him the cigarette, lighting a new one for yourself to smoke. “I don’t care anymore. Hooking up with Sungchan just now made me realize it. Seeing and hearing his friends tease him for it…” you take a long drag, “I knew that’s what I am.”
He does the same and looks at you. “Did you want to hook up with him?”
“No.”
“Then, why did you do it?” You ignore his question and keep smoking. “Hey…” he says softly. He knows you’re avoiding his question, but he wants to hear what you have to say.
“What happened with you and Yujin tonight?” you ask, wanting to change the subject.
“Just…an argument.”
“About…?”
“That’s not important.”
“You wanted to tell me all about it earlier. You said something about you not getting hard and regretting asking her out. What the hell happened? I thought you loved her or whatever.” you mumble as you inhale more smoke, a part of you hoping it chokes you.
“I do love her. But I guess…it meant something different to her. She wanted things from me I couldn’t do.”
“Like what.”
“Like…her not wanting us to be friends anymore.”
You scoff before continuing to smoke. “You should’ve chosen her.”
Sunghoon raises an eyebrow as he takes a drag. “You think I shouldn't have chosen my friend who's been with me through thick and thin over someone who was basically controlling who I talked to?”
“She was just controlling that you don't talk to me. Can't blame her, she probably thought I would try to sleep with you or something. Besides, since when did us being friends for so long suddenly matter? It didn't when you agreed with her about me being a slut.”
“It matters to me.” He says, feeling his heart sink a little at your words. It seemed like you didn’t think your friendship meant anything. He takes another drag and sighs quietly before continuing. “You’re my best friend. I care about you more than anyone else.” You stay silent as you continue to smoke. “Do you really think I don’t care about you?” he asks, softly. You just keep smoking, not really sure how to answer. He sighs to himself as he does the same and his mind wanders to thinking about you and Sungchan again. He rolls his eyes to himself as he tries to push those thoughts out of his head.
“You asked me if I ever felt heartbreak when we fought that night, talking about if that’s why I have commitment issues or whatever.” you say as you take another drag. “Yeah…I have.”
“Was the heartbreak from…” he let’s the question linger in the air for a moment, “a relationship?” You shake your head. “So…what was it from then? Who broke your heart?”
You stay silent for a moment, just smoking “...i didn't realize I fell in love with him until he got a girlfriend, well, his first serious girlfriend. At first, I didn't really care, but then…” you go quiet for a moment as you keep looking ahead, not at him. “The way he talked about her, would smile a certain way when he was with her, like he's never smiled at me before...laughing at jokes they shared...seeing him kiss her, hold her hand…” you take another drag, “holding her hand..” you repeat, like you’re lost in thought. “It's something so stupid and simple, but I've never had a guy hold my hand romantically...but he held hers and I remember feeling like I couldn't breathe. I couldn't do a damn thing but suddenly wish I was his girlfriend instead. And then I realized. I loved him.” you take another drag, “I loved him and he was in love with someone else.”
He stayed quiet the whole time you talked. He took in every single word. He took in how you said every single word, how you looked as you spoke. He felt his heart break for you. The way you talked about it was nothing like he’s ever heard you talk about; so…innocent. “Did you ever try to tell him how you felt?”
You stay quiet for a moment as you swallow. “I almost did. One time. I just felt so tired from pretending and I didn't want to just hookup with anyone anymore. I wanted to be his more than anything in the world. I almost told him and then…” you take another drag from your cigarette. “He started telling me about how he finally had sex with his girlfriend. How hot she is. How he had never seen anyone so beautiful. How he couldn't believe he was so lucky to be dating her. Fuck-” you pinch your thigh to stop yourself from crying as you take another drag. “I felt so...gross. I had never had a guy say that about me, never had a guy be proud to be with me, but the way he talked about her and everything he was saying...I knew he would laugh in my face if I, just some slut, was in love with him; he would feel grossed out or whatever. No matter how close I thought we were, I knew right then and there I would never be like her. Never like the girl he wanted.” you take another drag, “So I didn't say anything.”
Sunghoon stayed quiet again, feeling awful. He hated that you thought about yourself that way. He hated that other people had made you feel that…him included. He hated this guy, especially, for making you feel this way. What a piece of shit. You deserve nothing but the best and this guy pulls this bullshit with you? He was about ready to punch him in the face. “And you’re still friends with him? After he did all of this to you?”
“He’s all I’ve ever had.”
“He’s not all you have, though. What about me?” he asks, intending to make something positive out of this all. He just wants you to know how precious you are to him because he cares about you so much. 
This, doesn’t help whatsoever, and you feel like you’re about to burst into tears. You can’t tell if he’s the idiot or if you are; maybe the latter. But when he says that, you just feel like sobbing, curling up into a ball, and dying right then and there. You pinch your thigh again, to prevent yourself from crying because you absolutely loathe it.
He notices and immediately puts his hand on yours to stop you. He hates seeing you like this and he looks at you, not wanting you to suppress this anymore.
His hand on yours, however, makes you feel even worse. Worse because it makes your stomach do flips and you can feel your heart beat faster. Worse because you know it only carries the connotation of a friend comforting a friend…nothing more. You pull your hand away and continue smoking.
He doesn’t say anything and he doesn’t try to take your hand back. It hurts him to see you pull yourself away. He just wants to make you feel better, feel safe, feel loved. Feel nothing but happiness because that’s all you deserve. But you don’t. He wants to give you everything, and so, he tries again to comfort you. He reaches for your hand, gently taking it into his, it enveloping yours as he holds it as if it is the most delicate thing on earth.
“Don’t.” you whisper, taking your hand away.
You didn’t want to. God, you didn’t want to. His hand felt like silk against yours, but you felt like you didn’t deserve it. Compared to his, your hand was like felt, worth far less than his. You didn’t want him to hold your hand, not like this. You wanted it to mean something, have some sort of value. Not for comfort. Not because he’s your best friend. Not because he felt bad. But because he loved you. Because he wanted to hold your hand and be proud as he held it. Because he wanted to claim you as is. Because you wanted to be his.
He lets go of your hand and stays silent for a moment. It was as if a part of him died inside as you pulled away your hand. All the thoughts that he was having a few seconds ago were replaced by sadness. His hands tightened into fists from the frustration of being unable to comfort you or take away your sadness. He wanted so desperately to try again, but he knew that there was nothing he could do right now. Slowly, he takes another drag of his cigarette, and you do the same with yours.
“Did you cry whenever he would talk about his girlfriend like that? Did you cry anytime he complimented her?”
You don’t answer for a while. “Yeah. When he told me he loved her, I cried later. After that, I pretended like I didn't care. And for a while, it worked. I would just hook up with guys and I would still talk and hang out with him because he didn't treat me like what everyone else saw me as. He never did. And that's one of the reasons I fell in love with him, I guess, but then sometimes...he would start talking about her and then I just...felt worse. At some point, I just kind of felt numb about it, especially after he told me about the first time they had sex. He talked about it like it was so special...like she was so special...and I just decided then and there I couldn't love him. So, I just pretended and after a while, I thought I didn't love him anymore, but one night, he started talking about how he couldn't lose his girlfriend, how he wanted to make things with her work and I felt that same feeling again, like I was going to be sick. Then, I heard him say what he really thought about me and that was the last time I cried about him.”
“What did he say about you? Did he insult you?” he asks as he feels himself becoming angry, wondering what this jerk could’ve possibly said about you to make you feel this way. But, you don’t answer, you just remain quiet and that made him want to punch this guy even more. “Do you miss him?” he asks, quietly.
“...i miss being oblivious to the fact that I love him.”
He feels his heart drop when you say that. You still love him? He swallows, feeling like he’s choking and as if all of the oxygen has been sucked out of the atmosphere. “So…you do love him. You’re still in love with him?” Once you ignore him again, the answer is clear. “You do still love him…” he mumbles. Anger courses through his veins because you’re in love with someone so fucking awful. How could you give all of yourself to someone who is too blind to see how much you’re worth? How much you mean and value you provide to meaning of life it’s goddamn self? He watches as you continue smoking. “So, you mean to tell me, after everything he’s done to you, you still love him?”
“He doesn’t know.”
“He doesn’t know you’re in love with him?”
“I told you, I never told him.”
This doesn’t help him feel any less bad for you. Some douche was out and about being happy and in love while you suffer on the sidelines? “Are you ever going to tell him?”
You shake your head as you look down. How could you? Especially since you’re delivering this whole pathetic monologue and he still isn’t taking any goddamn hint. 
“Is it because he’s still with his girlfriend?”
“I don’t want to talk about this.” you say as you finish your cigarette.
He becomes frustrated, “Is he?”
“No.”
“So, they broke up.” You ignore his question once more. He waits a few seconds before speaking up again, “I’m taking that as a ‘yes’ then.”
“Why does it matter? Why do you care?”
“Why do I care?” he asks as if this question has the most obvious answer. He scoffs and takes another drag out of frustration. “Because I’m your best friend, dumbass.”
This only makes you frown as you pinch your thigh again to stop the tears threatening to fall. He frowns as well when he sees this and reaches his hand over again. “Stop.” he says as he grabs your hand. You look down at your hands and you take yours away again. He feels a lump form in his throat when you pull your hand away as a pit of sadness just keeps growing and growing in his stomach. “Why are you doing that? …do you honestly think I don’t care about you?” You just keep staring ahead of you, not looking at him once. He takes another drag and sighs. “Have I ever given you a reason for you to think that I don’t care? Have I hurt you like that guy did?”
His questions make you stay silent for a long time. You wish that you could just disappear. Or that you could go back in time and stop yourself from having these stupid feelings. Or…that you never met him in the first place. Maybe then things would be easier. Better.
“Just…answer me.” he says, pleading, almost. He wants you to understand that he is here for you, he always will be and nothing is going to get in the way of that anymore. He wants this to be clear, so he tries to hold your hand again to show his support, but you take it away once he does.
“Are you pretending or are you actually this clueless?” you ask, becoming frustrated, your voice having a hint of pain in it.
His stomach tightened when you rejected him once more. He doesn’t look at you, suddenly afraid to see your expression. He doesn’t know what to do, how to make you feel better. He stays silent for a moment and continues smoking. “Pretending about what?” he asks. You become increasingly frustrated and pinch your thigh again. He notices and grabs your hand again, “Stop.” he says sternly, but you pull your hand away. 
“Jesus, you’re the guy.”
He feels himself freeze. “What the hell do you mean ‘I’m the guy’?”
“Are you dense?” you raise an eyebrow. “You’re the guy I’ve been talking about this whole damn time!”
“...i’m the guy?” he asks, completely stunned. You let out a huff of frustration and stand up, walking away. He doesn’t hesitate to stand up and go after you. He grabs your arm to stop you. “Wait, you can’t just leave…”
You keep pinching your thigh, a part of you believing it will wake you up from this nightmare as you avoid his gaze. You take your arm away from his grip. “Just forget it.”
“No. You just said I’m the guy, right? The one you’re in love with?” He asks, all of his focus on you. You ignore his question and turn around, walking away. He groans and he moves in front of you, stopping you. “You love me?” But you just avoid his gaze and don’t answer his question. He sighs, “I’m not letting you leave until you tell me.”
“No.”
He frowns. “Look at me.” he whispers. “Please…” he moves closer to you. “Do you love me?”
“Why does it matter?”
“You tell me. Why doesn’t it matter?”
You punch your thigh harshly a few times as you finally look at him. Your breath hitches as tears well in your eyes, despite you trying to ignore them. “Because I’m just a slut.”
He grabs your hand and stops you. He feels panicked, not knowing what to do or say. He doesn’t want you to cry or punish yourself. “Stop it. Stop with that bullshit. You’re not a slut, don’t you dare ever call yourself that.”
“You said it yourself. You agree with everyone else. I know you don't feel the same. I know you'll never talk about me the way you talk about Yujin or see me the way you see her. I know you said you guys broke up, but so what? I know what I am and I know that's all I'll ever be.”
He feels tears prick his own eyes as he listens to you. He shakes his head, “Stop that. Stop saying that I’ll never feel the same. Stop saying that you’re just a slut.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter! It matters to me. You’re not just “some slut”. You’re my best friend.”
You frown as you feel the urge to cry become stronger. You take your hand away and you pinch your thigh again, just wanting the tears to go away. What he said made you feel awful. It’s not what you wanted to hear. You didn’t want to be just that…and he just kept reminding you that that’s all you are. “...do you honestly think that makes me feel better?”
He frowns, “Fine. Maybe it doesn’t make you feel better. But it should. Because it’s the fucking truth.”
“Are you even thinking about what I told you? Are you even thinking about how you're the guy I've been talking about? How every time you talked about Yujin, every time I saw you hold her hand, how you talked about her when you told me about the first time you guys had sex, that I just wanted to curl up and die? You don't get it. You calling me your best friend doesn't make me feel any fucking better. It makes me feel worse than when people call me a slut. But I don't want you to stand here and try to make me feel better, because if you think telling me you care about me because I'm your 'best friend' is going to make me feel better, then you haven't listened to a damn thing I've said.”
He stares at you sympathetically. He stares at you as he realizes just how badly he’s broken your heart. As he realizes he broke your heart. 
“I don't want to be your best friend. I don't want you to tell me I'm your best friend.” You keep pinching your thigh harder, but tears roll down your cheeks anyway. “I wanted it to be me.” you say as you cry even though you keep pinching harder. “I wanted to hold your hand romantically. I wanted you to smile at me the way you did with her. I wanted you to talk about me the way you talked about her.” Your breath hitches as you cry and pinch your thigh harder, your nails digging into your skin. “I wanted to be special to you. I wanted you to tell me you love me. I wanted to be your girlfriend...more than anything in the world.” You cry harder even though you try not to and you dig your nails more into your thigh.
He’s never seen you cry. Not when you broke your arm, not when your pet goldfish died, not when your first boyfriend broke up with you, not even when you get incredibly frustrated. He has never seen you cry. But he hates it. He doesn’t want to see you so sad, so hurt, in so much pain…and he hated it even more because he–the one person you loved more than anything else–was the one who was making you feel this way. He pulls you into him, hugging you tightly, just wanting to take your pain away, just wanting you to…feel loved. But you push him away and wipe your tears, and he notices the imprints from your nails on your thighs. He doesn’t even realize it, but he reaches his hand out and gently touches the marks as he looks at them. He touches the ridges softly and your skin feels so smooth to him, so precious, but you push his hand away. His eyes travel up to meet yours and he sees you’ve stopped crying.
“Why wouldn’t you just have told me how you felt?” he asks, quietly.
“For starters, you had a girlfriend. The other reason: it doesn’t matter.”
“What if I never got with Yujin? What if I was single the whole time?”
“I didn’t realize I loved you until you started dating her…”
“Why her? I’ve dated other girls before, so why her?”
You shrug, “She’s the only one you really seemed to be serious about…the only one you told you loved. Besides…I’m not some sort of homewrecker.”
“I wish you told me.” he whispers. “You were never going to tell me?”
“No.”
“So, you were just hoping I would never find out?”
“Yes.”
“So, you were just going to keep that secret for the rest of your life?”
“Yeah.”
“So, you were just going to live with that pain forever?”
“Are you going to keep asking the same question?”
“I just want to know…” he says as if he’s desperate. “Why…why would you not tell me?”
“Because you were with Yujin! Because you kept telling me how much you loved her! How pretty you thought she was, how happy you were to be with her, how smart and kind and funny and fucking perfect you thought she was! You were happy. You were happy with someone who wasn't me and although that killed me, you were happy. I couldn't do that to you.” you say as your voice breaks.
“So that justified you suffering in silence? Why would you rather see me happy while you were in pain?”
You look at him like the answer was obvious. How does he not get it? You stare at him as you remain quiet, looking at him as if it’s your last time. “Because I love you.” you say, softly.
He feels like you’re looking at him as if he is the most special person to walk on earth. He swallows out of nervousness as he realizes you gave him your heart completely. “You love me so much that you were willing to put yourself through hell just to see me be happy?” He doesn’t feel worthy of that…but you seem to think he is. You love him.
“Wouldn’t you have done the same for Yujin?”
You don’t want to hear him answer this. You don’t want to know, but you feel like he doesn’t understand. You feel like you keep repeating yourself and he’s relishing in it. 
He doesn’t know how to answer. Would he? Hearing how you describe your love for him, he realizes what he felt for Yujin maybe wasn’t love. Maybe it was comfort. Or security. Or the fact that someone wanted to be with him so seriously. Maybe he did love her, but…not the way you love him. This sounds like love. This sounds like what he was supposed to feel. “Yes…” he says, not really sure if that’s true. He wants to believe he loves her. He wants to believe he didn’t waste almost four years on something that ends up meaning absolutely nothing. He has to love her.
“Then you get it.”
“Did you just hope we would break up one day so you and I would get together?”
You sigh, “You still don't get it. I know you don't feel the same way. I know I am not the type of girl you want to be with. I'm not the type of girl any guy wants to be with seriously.”
How could you say that about yourself? Sunghoon doesn’t believe any of that, not for a single fucking second. “That isn’t true. You’re smart, kind, funny, and pretty.”
“Stop.”
“No. It’s true. Everything I just said is true. You think no guy would be able to fall in love with you, but they would. You would make an awesome girlfriend.” he tries to reassure you.
You don’t want any guy.
“You’re not making me feel better.”
“What am I supposed to do, then? Agree with the bullshit you’re saying about yourself? Because that’s not fucking happening.”
“What I want you to say…you can’t.”
“Try me. Tell me.”
You just look at him. He doesn’t get it. He isn’t saying it because he doesn’t feel the same. This realization makes you feel like you’re crumpling. You look at him, defeated. If you have to tell him, you know he would only say it to make you feel better, not because he actually wants to. That. That’s what hurts the most. He would say it because you’re his best friend…but you don’t want to be.
“...are you going to try and get back together with Yujin?”
He pauses. He thinks about it for a second. “Right now…I don’t know. I guess a part of me wants to try still. Does that make me shitty?” He’s not sure why he does. Yujin is the first girl he’s ever told he loved…and he doesn’t say it often. Maybe he’s like you, in a way. He doesn’t really like saying stuff like that. It felt weird when he said it. But he thinks that’s just because he’s never said it before. 
“Why would I?”
“I feel like an asshole for even considering it after everything you’ve told me-”
“She’s the one you love.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” he says, truthfully. He just needs to think. He just needs one damn second to think.
“Then let me make it clear: be with her. From my perspective, she's the one you want. What I told you, how I so stupidly cried in front of you, that doesn't matter. I told you this earlier: you should've chosen her. So just, make up with her tomorrow or whatever and be with her.” you swallow. “...but I can't be your friend.”
He sees you giving up. He hears it. He hates it. His mind is running a thousand miles per minute, he can’t fucking think and it’s pissing him off. “It’s not that easy. I can’t just ‘choose’ between the two of you. I’m confused, I just…I want to be with whoever makes me happy.”
He’s always been happy with you. Sure, you two fought, but you always got over it. You make him happy. So goddamn happy. But he’s scared. He just gave nearly four years of his life to Yujin…what if it’s because he does love her? 
“That’s her.”
“How are you so sure it’s not you?”
“I know.”
He groans in frustration. “So, I have to choose between the two of you?”
You. He chooses you. He’s not sure about the rest of it, but all he knows is that he chooses you. Four years with Yujin doesn’t compare to the years you and him have had together. Nothing else matters. You. Just you.
“Just be with her.”
“What if I want to be with you?”
He hasn’t thought about it. Maybe he chooses you only as a best friend. What if he doesn’t choose you for love? …does he love you? He recalls the teasing from classmates when you guys were younger, but he's never really given any thought to it possibly becoming real. Does he love you the same way he loves Yujin? Does he even love Yujin? He doesn’t know…he just doesn’t know.
“You don’t.”
“And what makes you so sure that I choose Yujin over you? What makes you so sure you’re ‘not enough’ for me?”
“...because you would’ve chosen me first.”
“I can still choose you.”
You sigh, “You're making this complicated. You know she's the one you love, stop feeling bad for me like I'm some lost puppy and just admit it. I don't want your pity and I certainly don't want you to say you ‘choose me’ because you're confusing your pity for feelings. Stop saying I'm this great girl and stop saying any guy would be lucky to have me, that makes me feel worse. So just make up with Yujin and get back with her. Reassure her that you love her because you do and tell her I won't be a problem anymore because you and I aren't anything anymore. Problem solved.”
Is this really what you believed? Is this really what you thought? He just needed some time, he can’t think. He doesn’t know what to think anymore. You were speaking as if it was impossible for him to love you, but what if he does? How is he supposed to know? How did he know with Yujin? He’s questioning whether he even loved her since he can’t even compare how he feels about you with whatever he felt with her. He just knows it’s stronger. But stronger in what way? He sees how you’re looking at him and he realizes the only way for him to succeed in making you feel better–which is what he truly wants–is to just listen to you. He doesn’t want to. But he wants to see you be happy, even if it means he isn’t.
“Are you really sure this is what you want me to do?” he barely asks, the words leaving his mouth without any fever, as if he never wanted to utter them in the first place. As if he doesn’t want to hear your answer; see you walk out of his life.
You don’t answer him. You just look at him before walking past him. You hold your breath, knowing that once you exhale, you’re going to start sobbing. You felt so lonely. So lonely. You’ve always had him…and then you lost him to Yujin…and now, you’ve lost him for good.
He doesn’t turn around to look at you as you walk away, because he knows if he does, he will run after you and that clearly isn’t what you want. You want to let him go, at least that’s how he understands it. He doesn’t want that. He wants you. He knows that much, he knows he needs you. He’s not sure how things will look without you now. He never thought it would be like this, but here he is. …why does this feel so much worse than when Yujin walked away from him? Why does this hurt more than his actual breakup? The reason is one he doesn’t want to admit. He realizes the answer and he refuses to let it grow to fruition. He doesn’t know why it took him until now to figure it out, but he��ll realize that later. He wanted time…now, he’s got it.
-
Deja vu. That’s what this all feels like. Here Sunghoon was, again, at another stupid frat party around midnight. Here he was, again, with Yujin. He took your advice, he decided to apologize and get back together with her, and these past few months without you have felt like torture. Even using torture to describe it seems too dull. He has thought about nothing but you. He’s heard around campus about people you’ve hooked up with, but he doesn’t feed into it. As he stands here with Yujin at this godforsaken party, all he can feel is regret. He leans against a wall as Yujin talks with her friends and he practically chugs his drink. He doesn’t even want to leave the party because he doesn't think it's worth to waste any of his wants on anything but you. You make up all of his desires and he wants nothing more than for you to be back into his life. He finishes the rest of his drink and to his surprise, he does see you. He stands up straighter as he looks at you, but feels like his insides are on fire when he realizes you’re making out with Sungchan. On the couch. On the couch, you are making out with Sungchan. On the couch, Sungchan is running his hands along your hips and waist. On the couch, you let him. 
You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss Sunghoon. A part of you went missing the night you walked away from him. You’ve seen him around campus with Yujin and eventually, it finally felt like you were over it all. Over him. You wouldn’t say you’ve been getting around quite frequently, but you won’t lie when you say that you did get with some guys to help get over him. It didn’t work. But you won’t admit to that. To you, at least, you’re over it. Over him. Sungchan helped a bit with some of the lonely nights, but you two aren’t anything serious. He’s not into that sort of thing and, hey, neither are you…so this is fine. He doesn’t lie to you about how he feels or what he wants and for that, you’re grateful. Although, you do have to admit, making out with him feels boring. Being with him feels boring. It’s not fun like it used to be…and even then, you aren’t completely sure it was even fun in the first place. Whatever, you’ll get into it at some point.
Sunghoon watches, now it really feels like deja vu. Is he dreaming? Or…is this him getting a second chance? Is this when he can finally pull you away from Sungchan and be there for you? Finally tell you how he feels? How he felt the whole time…? Suddenly, his spirits are slightly lifted, that is, until Yujin crosses her arms and scoffs before shoving him. Sunghoon is surprised and turns his attention towards her. Some people look at them, but Yujin doesn’t care, she just looks at Sunghoon, furious.
“Do you even want me to be your girlfriend?”
Maybe honesty wouldn’t be best right now. “I do…”
“Then stop looking at her.”
“Let’s…not make a scene.” he says, trying to calm her down.
“Just be honest for once: do you love me or her?”
He doesn’t know how to answer. He knows his answer, he’s had months to figure it out. But…you made yourself clear. You were done with each other. He sighs. “Can I get a moment to figure it out?” he asks, honestly a bit surprised he didn’t just cave and reassure her.
Yujin frowns and scoffs. “Let me ask you this, then. Do you wish that you were making out with her?”
He looks back at you and Sungchan, seeing him whisper something to you and you giggling before he kisses you again. He looks back at Yujin. “Yeah.” he swallows, gathering all of his courage. “But, that sounds…awful. It’s like you want me to admit I regret getting back together with you or something-”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” he answers without hesitation. He feels all of his muscles tense up. Did he really just say that? Well…it’s the truth, but he never thought he would say it. He feels…better.
Yujin quickly squashes that by slapping him, “We’re done.” she says before storming out, her friends following. Sure, the slap hurt, but as Sunghoon looks back at you and Sungchan…the pain from the slap seems so insignificant in comparison.
You decide to tell Sungchan you’re getting a drink, so you get up from the couch and go into the kitchen. You pour yourself a drink and once you do, you walk to the backyard and take a seat on the patio. 
Sunghoon figures you want to be alone…but finds himself following you outside anyway. He walks over to you cautiously. You and him have spoken consistently for practically your whole lives, but he finds himself struggling to even say a simple sentence or ask a question. The time you’ve spent apart was multiple days…too many fucking days in his opinion. He can’t stand it. “Can I sit here?” he asks, referencing the spot beside you. You shrug as you take a sip of your drink. He feels relieved, baby steps, right? He takes a seat beside you and thinks for a moment on how to keep the conversation going. “So…what were you telling Sungchan?” …has he lost the ability to socialize or something because why was this the question he asks? He bites his bottom lip a bit in frustration at himself.
“Spying on me?” you tease as you extend your cup, offering him some.
Sunghoon chuckles softly and shakes his head. Hearing your voice for the first time in months makes him remember just how much he’s missed you. He feels like everything in his life is restored and he smiles a bit. “You guys were all over each other on the couch, is it really weird for me to wonder?”
You shrug, “I mean, just typical flirting and dirty talk or whatever. Why?”
He feels his breath catch in his throat. “Dirty talk”?...what the fuck? “Um…no reason…I guess I was just…curious or something.” he mumbles.
“Are you here with Yujin?” you ask as you take another sip of your drink.
He shakes his head. “Well, not anymore. She broke up with me so…I’m alone now.” he realizes how that might’ve come off. “Alone here now…not…me alone altogether…or anything.” he cringes and looks away from you, feeling completely stupid. 
“What? Why did she break up with you?”
“She…saw me…looking at you and Sungchan…so she broke up with me.” he says, not really wanting to say the other stuff from the argument. You laugh in response and he frowns. “Don’t laugh.”
You nudge his shoulder, “It’s okay. If she broke up with you for that dumb of a reason, her loss.” You say as you take another sip.
He smiles slightly. It feels like old times. It feels like he has you back. It feels like you want him back. “Yeah, you’re probably right. It’s probably best I don’t have her constantly being suspicious about me and you.”
“Especially since we haven’t talked in months.”
He feels caught off guard by your blunt statement. Sure, it’s true…but it sounds like you didn’t miss him. “Yeah…we haven’t talked in a while.” You just take another sip of your drink and he looks back at you. “I’ve missed you.” He waited for you to say something back, but you didn’t. “I’ve um…missed talking to you like before. Like, before…everything got complicated and stuff-”
“I know what you meant.”
He nods his head a bit, everything now feeling awkward. “So…what have you been up to? Anything interesting happen?”
“Nope.”
“Really? Nothing? Nothing at all?”
“Yup” you say as you take another drink.
“So…for the past few months, you’ve done absolutely nothing interesting?” he asks, his tone being more lighthearted and joking to try and diffuse the tension.
“No offense, but I’m not really looking to ‘catch up’ with you.”
Sunghoon feels his heart stop for a moment, but he tries to play it off. “Okay, ouch.” he laughs nervously, “So you’re not even remotely interested in talking with me?”
You shrug, “I dunno. These past few months without you, I’ve kinda just been doing my own thing, I guess.”
Your response left him feeling worthless. Like, he didn’t even mean a single thing to you before. Which, he knows isn’t true…but you sound like you mean it. “So, you haven’t missed me at all? Not even talking to me?”
“At first, yeah. But don’t worry, I’m not in love with you anymore.”
“...you’re not…in love with me anymore…?” he asks as he feels his blood run cold. You just shake your head and continue drinking from your cup. His heart sinks immediately. He feels small; insignificant. His mind jumps back to Sungchan and he frowns. “Are you in love with him now?”
“Him?”
“Sungchan.”
“Eh,” you shrug, “we’re not dating, just casual, I guess.”
“So, you’re not exclusive with him?”
“No.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
“Yeah.”
He feels himself growing jealous and frustrated. How could you give yourself to someone who doesn’t love you? Sunghoon feels upset, realizing he unintentionally did the same thing, but still, not to this extent. He knows you. He knows you don’t want this…hopefully. But he sure as hell knows that you don’t deserve this. 
“That’s ridiculous. How can you be committed to this?”
“I’m not committed.”
He groans, “That’s…not what I meant. What do you two even get out of this?”
You shrug, “Why do you care? I get you’re a relationship guy even though you’ve only been serious with one girl, but don’t shit on me and what I choose to do.”
The way you spoke got under his skin. “I care because I happen to care about the people around me. In case you haven’t noticed, I care about you.” But you just roll your eyes. “Don’t roll your eyes. I’m being serious. Why do you feel like this isn’t worth talking about?”
“Because we aren’t friends. We aren’t anything. I don’t need your input.”
It feels like you’ve slapped him in the face, and this time, it fucking stings. “What do you mean we aren’t friends? We grew up together, how the hell are we not friends?”
“Are you stupid?”
“Am I stupid?” he asks, offended and frustrated. He was starting to lose his patience. “No. I’m not. I still consider you as my friend. We grew up together, went to the same schools, hung out every damn day, how is none of that relevant?”
“We haven’t spoken in months.”
“So what?” he asks, feeling as though your friendship suddenly means less than nothing to you, somehow.
“I told you that night that I wasn’t going to be your friend anymore.”
He freezes. He knows. He also knows you don’t just say shit without it meaning anything. He knows you aren’t friends anymore, but he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want you to be nothing to each other. He thought that if, maybe, he admitted he still sees you as his friend, you would admit the same. But you don’t. And now he feels that same empty feeling. “So…you’re just fine with letting us go without a second thought?”
You look at him, “Do you not remember anything from that night? Of course if fucking hurt; I was in love with you.”
“So it does matter.”
You sigh, “It doesn’t matter anymore; that was a long time ago.” you say as you take another sip.
He looks at you for a moment, feeling like his heart has become a punching bag and you were just taking any hit you could. Was this really the same person he grew up with? That he… “How could it not matter anymore? We used to mean the world to each other…how can that just…be…over?”
You look at him, “Because I had to get over you.”
“It’s not that easy. I spent everyday thinking about you. Everyday.”
“Why?”
“Because I love you!” He thought your question was so redundant, he honestly didn’t even realize what he said at first. 
“But…” you sit there, stunned. He finally said what you wanted him to say for so long, even if it was with a frustrated tone, still…it counted. “What about Yujin?”
“She…she doesn’t matter. You do. She always suspected I was in love with you-”
“Well, this is news to me.”
He deadpans. “Are you being fucking serious? I get I never said it before, but…” he pauses; he sees what you mean. “Okay…but…you never once thought it was possible that I love you?”
“No. Because that night when I told you that night that I was in love with you, you just kept saying I was your best friend. You’re so full of it.”
“I’m not full of it! I just…for fucks sake, I just didn’t know. I thought…I don’t know, I thought maybe for you it was just passing, or something, I don’t know what I thought I just…I don’t know.”
“Right. So as I stood there, crying my eyes out as I told you how much I loved you, you thought it was one sided.” you say as you roll your eyes.
“I…” he feels like he did that night, like he can’t think. “I just didn’t know, maybe something was holding me back, I don’t know.”
“I know why.”
He looks at you, relieved, thankful that you understand what he means. “You do?”
“Of course you didn’t want to admit to that. How embarrassing for you to have a crush on one of the school’s biggest sluts.”
He frowns. “That’s not what I mean. You honestly think it’s embarrassing for me to like you?”
“Exactly. And you knew that. I don’t blame you, no guy wants their girlfriend to be a whore.” You take another sip of your drink and you look at him. “Look, I’m not mad. I got over it and I honestly don’t care anymore. I know what I am and I know that until we graduate, that’s all I’ll probably be. But it doesn’t matter. Yujin breaking up with you not too long ago was dumb, you’re a really great guy, but you’ll find someone else.” You take another sip,  “I should probably head back in and find Sungchan.”
He felt anger wash over him. Not because you don’t believe him about being in love with you. Not because you were going to Sungchan. But because of the fact that you believe the things you say about yourself. You’re so special, so goddamn special, and Sunghoon is so scared as he realizes he may be too late.
“And what if I don’t want to find someone else? What if I don’t want anyone else but you?”
You look at him for a moment. “Do you remember how you would talk about Yujin with me? You may not remember everything you said, but I remember it all and I remember how you looked as you said it. You talked about her like she was the most special and most beautiful girl in the world. You had this smile that you only had with her…” you pause for a moment, “You may say you have feelings for me…but they're not like the ones you had for her, and that’s okay. I don’t want you to feel bad because you deserve to be happy, but you also deserve to find another girl that makes you talk and feel that same way…and I know that’s not me.”
You’re so wrong. You’re so fucking wrong and it was pissing him off. He wishes he just figured this out earlier. He wishes that he asked you out instead. He wishes that he told you he loves you that night. He wishes he kissed you. He wishes he held you and didn’t let go. He swallows, “You remember everything I said?” he asks, slightly surprised to hear that. Honestly, he doesn’t even remember what he said. Not anymore.
“Of course I do…I wanted nothing more than for it to be me.” you say quietly as you take a sip and sigh. “But like I said, water under the bridge.”
He feels tears begin to form. “Why did we have to grow apart? Why didn’t you just talk to me? Just one damn word. Something. I didn’t want to lose you.”
“I can’t be your friend.”
“Why not?”
You look at him for a long moment, just staying quiet. “...I’m only going to say this once…but if I stayed your friend, I would just keep hurting myself…I would still love you.”
He stays quiet for a while. Even the loud music and chatter from the people inside seemed to drown out as he looked at you; you’re all that matters; you’re all that deserves his attention. “...did it hurt when we would talk everyday?”
You sigh softly and shake your head. “Not until you started dating Yujin. Before that, everything was fine. But once she happened…it hurt like hell.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I told you. I couldn’t do that to you, you were happy.”
“I would have wanted to know. I would have wanted to be there for you…”
You laugh a little, “No, that’s weird.” You shake your head and still laugh a little, “It’s fine, I’m over it.” 
“It’s not weird. It’s not okay for you to act like everything is fine.” he says, softly.
“Why are you trying to rehash this? There’s no point. Or do you like to hear about how I used to love you and it gives you some sort of ego boost or something?” you ask, not wanting to dive back into this…not again. He shakes his head, but he sighs. What is the point? You aren’t believing him and you’ve said it yourself…you’re over him. You stand up and his eyes follow you, “I’m gonna go find Sungchan. Later.” you say, not really meaning the ‘later’ part, but nonetheless, you walk away and all he can do is watch you leave…again.
He heads back into the party, wanting to find solace in getting batshit drunk or something, but he continues to torture himself by watching you dance with Sungchan. His eyes only focus on you, sure, he’s jealous and pissed off that you’re with Sungchan, but he only sees you. Sees how you move and he finds himself wishing you were dancing with him. 
Sungchan pulls you closer, just whispering sweet nothings in your ear and you feel his hands grab your ass. You giggle a little and try to enjoy your time with him as he starts kissing your neck. You laugh softly as you dance with him and, unfortunately for Sunghoon, he’s bearing witness to it all. His hand practically crushes his red solo cup as fury ignites within him when he watches what Sungchan is doing. That should be him. Not that he would be so…vulgar with his actions, but it should still be him instead. He sees Sungchan whisper something to you as he takes your hand and starts taking you upstairs. 
As he watched the two of you making your way upstairs, his whole body shook and trembled in rage. Every step that the two of you took together enraged him. He hated the way you casually held his hand and how he casually walked you up the stairs. He hated how he acted as if he had every right to touch you like that. He hated the fact that you were both so comfortable with one another at this point. He hated the fact that he was leading you away to his room…
You were so focused on following Sungchan, you were surprised to feel a tug on your other hand once you reached the top of the stairs. Both Sungchan and you stop and you turn to see Sunghoon holding your other hand. 
Sunghoon felt at ease, like he was grounded when he felt your hand in his. This made him more confident as he tugged you towards him, wanting you away from Sungchan. This pisses Sungchan off and he scoffs as he looks at Sunghoon. 
“The hell?” Sungchan says, not in the mood for any games. He tugs the hand he was holding, pulling you back towards him, but you find yourself only focused on Sunghoon as your heart starts to beat faster.
Sunghoon pulls you back towards him, his grip on your hand tightening. “Back off.” he says as he glares at Sungchan. 
“You back off.” Sungchan says as he tugs you back towards him.
Sunghoon realized that you were just being tugged around, so he stopped, but he kept holding your hand. “Let go of her.”
“You let go of her.” He looks at you, “Who the hell is this guy?” Sungchan asks, annoyed.
“Someone who actually loves her instead of using her.”
You look at Sunghoon, surprised to hear him say that. Sure, he said he loved you earlier…but this time when he said it, he said it like it was what he meant to say; what he wanted to say.
Sungchan laughs. “You love her?”
Sunghoon glares at him. “Yes. I love her. Now back off.”
Sungchan scoffs and puts his arm around me. “Tell you what, bud, you can have her when I’m done.” Sungchan winks as he pulls me towards him.
Sunghoon feels enraged. This asshole was acting so entitled, acting like he won this argument when Sunghoon knew damn well he wasn’t giving up. The fact that he had the nerve to call him “bud” too made Sunghoon want to throw him down the flight of fucking stairs. How he treated you was disgusting, talking about you like that in front of you. Sunghoon tugged you towards him one last time and Sungchan rolled his eyes. 
“Whatever.” Sungchan looks at you, “You know where my room is.” he says as he winks at you before walking away.
Sunghoon grimaces as Sungchan leaves, but feels better once he’s gone. The whole time, you were just looking at Sunghoon and you feel as though your heart is beating out of your chest as he holds your hand. After what he said. After all of this. He meets your gaze and he looks at you in a much more gentle manner. 
“You deserve so much more…” he whispers, his breath lightly brushing along your face since you’re so close together. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry-”
“Stop.”
“No.” he says as he lets go of your hand and uses it instead to gently cup your face. “I wasn’t lying. You are all I’ve thought about for these past few months and you’re all I can ever think about. I’ve missed you every single damn second of the day and I’m sorry I was too scared to say it all before. I love you. And all this time, I’ve just thought about what you mean to me and the answer is everything; you mean everything to me. ...that seems like such a vague thing to say now that I say it out loud.” he chuckles softly, “But everything means nothing if you’re not with me. Eating, sleeping, breathing, blinking, are all pointless if I can’t spend one goddamn second with you. I’m not embarrassed of you and I only realized that night when you left that I’ve always been in love with you. Always. What I felt with Yujin is all meaningless when I compare it to how I feel about you. I love you. It was never her. Not for even a millisecond. You asked me if I would put myself through pain just to see her happy and I told you yes. I lied. I thought that was what I would do, but I realized I actually did that with you. I let you walk away because that’s what you wanted. I didn’t want that, god-” he takes a sharp inhale as he rests his forehead on yours, “It’s always been you…and I’m so sorry I never said it until now. I’m so sorry I put you through all of that shit. I’m so sorry, but please…” he whispers as he looks into your eyes, all of his focus only on you. “I love you.”
You feel your breath hitch slightly and you feel so tempted just to kiss him, but you hold yourself back. You smile a little bit and pull away slightly, feeling relieved. “...I need to smoke. You want one?” you ask as you take his hand, going into an empty bedroom. 
He closes the door behind the two of you as you walk over and sit on the bed, opening the window beside it. He sits beside you as you take out your pack and he smiles a bit. “Yeah, I do.” he says as you hand him one. He watches as you light yours and then you light his for him. You both sit silently for a moment as you smoke, it being a comfortable silence until he speaks. “Thank you.” he says, mainly for lighting his cigarette, but he does want it to apply to you not leaving him again.
“I forgive you.” you say after a moment.
“You do?” he asks as he takes a drag and looks at you.
“Yeah.” you say as you take another drag yourself. “But you’ve got to get better at saying how you feel.” you tease.
He scoffs playfully and nudges your arm. “Says you.” he mumbles as he continues to smoke.
You laugh softly and shrug. “We’ll work on it.” you say before exhaling your smoke and he nods his head a bit as you both look out of the window for a moment. You glance at him and inhale from your cigarette before gently pulling him towards you. He turns his head to look at you and you kiss him gently, shotgunning the smoke slowly into his mouth.
His eyes widen a bit as his heart beats rapidly. He closes his eyes as he inhales, letting the smoke slowly fill his lungs while he leans forward to kiss you back, indulging in the feeling of your lips on his even if it wasn’t an actual kiss. After blowing out the smoke, you break the kiss and watch as he exhales the smoke. He does it slowly, feeling as though his lips are tingling, begging to meet yours again. He smirks a bit after he exhales all of the smoke and looks at you. “Damn…that was good.” he whispers as he blushes a bit.
You grin, taking another drag, “I’ve missed you.”
He takes a drag as well as smiles softly. “I’ve missed you, too.” It goes quiet, but this time, a comfortable silence as you two smoke. He blows some smoke out of the window and looks back at you. “Do you think…we could give this another shot?”
You follow suit and blow some smoke out of the window before looking at him. “Our friendship or…something more this time?”
“Something more. Both, hopefully.” he smirks a bit as he says this, taking another drag.
You smirk a little back and chuckle softly, “I really want that.”
“So do I.” he whispers as his eyes lock onto yours. He smiles softly, “We’re going to be official.”
He reaches for your hand and carefully interlaces his fingers with yours. You take another drag as you smile shyly. “Good…” you say, softly.
Your fingers seem to fit with his perfectly; everything about you is perfect and it was things like this that make him realize it all the more. You hold hands as you smoke silently, both feeling a fluttering excitement in your stomachs as your relationship dynamic shifts to one that you both have been longing for before you even realized it yourselves. He glances at you as he exhales some smoke.
“Good? Wow…I was expecting some more passion out of that.” he teases, gently squeezing your hand.
You laugh before finishing your cigarette and putting it out. You turn your body a bit to face him, “What about…fucking incredible?”
He laughs loudly at your new choice of phrasing. He calms down after a moment, “That’s more like it.” he says with a grin before smoking his cigarette again. His gaze lingers on you as he watches you smile at his reaction. Stunning. He leans in, letting go of your hand, placing his left hand beside you on the bed as his lips meet yours, kissing you. 
You don’t waste a single second, kissing him back immediately as your hand makes its way to the back of his head, your fingers threading with his hair as you push yourself slightly forward, pressing your lips against his more. He inhales sharply as he moves his left arm around your waist, pulling you closer, desperately. He puts out his cigarette and discards it, using his other arm to wrap around you as well as he pulls you onto his lap. You part your legs, straddling his lap as you grin a bit into the kiss, both of your hands using their fingers to gently tug on the ends of his soft hair. You feel yourself fill with excitement, the fact that this is really happening after every inch of your body has desired this exact moment makes you feel restless. 
Sunghoon runs his hands up and down your thighs, squeezing them gently, before moving them up to your hips, and then your waist. His hands suddenly felt so big against your skin, his fingers sending shivers throughout your whole body anywhere they touch. He opens his mouth slightly more and you take this as a sign to slip your tongue into it. He grins, this time, and he pulls you closer to him by gripping your waist; your bodies now pressed tightly against each other. He moves his hands to cup your face and you move yours to rest against his chest, your fingers tightly gripping his shirt in an attempt to somehow kiss him deeper. His tongue glides across yours as he kisses you with increasing desperation. The need for you grows every second that passes, he has to kiss every inch of you, he has to make you his, he has to make you feel loved; the only thoughts devouring his mind at this very moment consisted of nothing but you and his need to ensure you only ever want him. 
The kiss becomes sloppy, both of your lips becoming covered in one another, and you feel yourself craving more. So much more. You bite his bottom lip a little, testing to see if this will make him decide to take initiative, resulting in him gasping softly and releasing a low moan. He liked it. He liked it a lot. He moves his hands back to your waist, pushing you down against his lap and his jaw loosens a bit as he loses his breath, feeling you finally press against his erection. You moan softly, enjoying the feeling of some sort of contact where you desperately needed it the most and it felt so good knowing he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. He couldn’t take it anymore, he had to have you. 
One of his hands grips your thigh and his other arm goes back to wrapping around your waist as he picks you up a bit and lays you back against the bed, not once breaking the kiss; at this point, kissing you has become his oxygen supply. Feeling your hands on him is the only thing keeping him alive. His lips part from yours only to kiss along your jaw, just below your ear, and down to your neck. You gasp softly and your eyelids flutter closed as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips kissing your skin. He takes one of his hands and uses it to move some of your hair out of the way, placing it on the back of your head, pulling your hair softly to move your head back so he has more room to work with on your neck. You let out a soft moan, feeling him leave open mouthed kisses on every single inch of your skin, him making sure he doesn’t miss a single spot. 
He opens his eyes a bit and looks at you, to see how he’s making you feel. He watches as your lips part slightly as you take in small gasps of air, as if he leaves you utterly breathless; you’ve never looked more beautiful. He watches to see what spot of your neck when he kisses it that you seem to like the most. Once he gets to a certain spot and watches you bite your bottom lip a bit, he smirks slightly against your skin and sucks gently on the area. His tongue laps the spot a bit as he sucks and nibbles on it; this was his spot now. You moan softly and you feel your breath slightly catch in your throat as he leaves a hickey. He leaves a few soft pecks on the spot a little after he’s left his mark and he smiles a bit to himself. 
You feel the warmth of his body pull away from yours and your eyes open as you look at him. The moon shined a bit through the window, the light falling beautifully on him as he looked at you with a slightly flushed face. He looked back at you, seeing you laying on this bed, all for him, he felt like he was going crazy. He sits on his knees between his legs as his hands run along your thighs; he just keeps looking at you, admiring all of you. You lay there, looking at him, feeling your body become hot as he looks at you through hooded eyes, as if you leave him in a trance. Your breathing picks up in speed as he runs his hands painfully slow along your thighs and as much as you want to pull him back towards you, you feel as though you’re frozen. 
He takes a slow, deep breath, as his left hand travels up to gently take your right hand. He holds it up softly, separating your fingers with his as he loosely holds your hand, his gaze now focusing on your hands. He raises your hand up and leans in, raising it to his mouth. He softly plants his lips on your fingertips, kissing them softly, up to your knuckles, trailing his lips to the back of your hand, then gently turning it to kiss along the palm of your hand. He closes his eyes as he kisses down your arm--slowly--and gently lays your arm back at your side as he kisses up to your shoulder. His hands move to the hem of your short dress, slowly sliding it up, you raising your hips to help him, and he stops, leaving it bunched around your waist as he goes back to kissing along your shoulder. He gently pushes the strap of your dress down your shoulder as he focuses on kissing your body, moving along your collarbone. He breathes deeply, pushing the other strap out of the way as he leaves open mouthed kisses on your left shoulder, down your arm, his hands gently holding it up as he kisses up to your wrist. You watch him, feeling as if your body is constantly shivering, still dressed (albeit, your dress is pushed up), yet feeling completely exposed. His hand envelopes over your left hand as he kisses your palm like he cherishes your entire being, the way he looks is as if he’s wanted to do this his whole life. 
He kisses your fingers, knuckles, and fingertips, opening his eyes slowly as he lets go of your arm gently. He moves his hands back to your waist, pulling your dress up more and you sit up, realizing your body is shaking, and he kisses your forehead before pulling your dress off carefully, like he’s afraid if he does it too fast, you’ll break. He lets the dress fall to the ground, the fabric hitting the hard wood floor just as softly as he lets it go. It’s as if the room is silent, no muffled music from downstairs, no rolling of tires from the occasional cars passing on the streets, no soft wind hitting the curtains, nothing except the quiet breaths escaping from his and your lips. He feels his erection become even more painfully hard as he looks at you, and he swallows, honestly trying not to let out a moan just at the sight of you. His breath stifles a little as he places his hand on the small of your back, steadying you as he leans back in, kissing the top of your chest. He feels himself growing more desperate, desperate to feel every inch of your skin on his lips, on his fingertips. 
He breathes in sharply as he presses his face more into your chest, his lips sloppily kissing along your chest as his need for you grows. His tongue trails along your skin and he shudders, his hands becoming shaky as he holds your waist, all his focus practically on making out with your chest. A low moan elicits from him and from the way he was kissing your chest with such desperation made you moan softly in response, one of your bra straps falling a little off your shoulder from his movements. It’s as if he senses it and just decides to unclasp your bra, still trying to let it slide off of you slowly and hold himself back, but once he sees you take it off, your bare chest exposed, he feels himself get so close to cumming in his pants. He gently lays you back on the bed, wasting no time, however, to wrap his lips around one of your nipples. Your breath hitches and you moan as he releases his desperation. Kissing, sucking, and fondling your breasts, small whimpers coming from him as he feels elated to finally be doing this. Spit covers your chest almost instantly as he licks and sucks, kneading your breasts, moaning as the soft flesh squeezes and molds beneath his hands. And it’s only until he feels his breathing becoming quick, his dick aching in his pants, is when he stops. He pulls away slightly, his hair slightly covering his eyes as he stares at them, his trembling fingers squeezing and spreading his spit along them, his thumbs pressing and circling your nipples, and you feel as if ripples just went throughout your entire body.
You gently push his hair away from his face and he goes back to kissing along your stomach, down to your panties. You can feel momentarily the thin layer of sweat covering his forehead when you push his hair away, running your fingers through his locks and he whines softly against your skin, his hands gripping your sides and finally moving to the edge of your panties. You wait in anticipation, expecting him to take them off, so you raise your hips slightly, but he pulls away. You pout–only slightly–as you look at him with a confused expression. He smiles sweetly, as if he’s not the one that caused you to quite literally soak through your panties. He’s noticed, god, he’s noticed, but it takes everything in him not to behave like some animal. So, with that, he moves his hands down to your feet, slowly taking off your shoes for you before setting them on the ground. He moves back a little, leaning down to kiss along your leg, stopping at your knee, before moving to do the same thing to the other leg, but this time, he kisses up your thigh, leaving open mouthed kisses on the inner part of your thigh, gently nipping at your skin, and up to your hip. He gazes at you through his eyelashes as he moves to kiss along the other thigh, closing his eyes as he moans deeply against your skin, his tongue running along your skin.
He takes in a shaky, deep breath, and you feel your whole body become stiff once you feel his warm breath scatter so deliciously on your core. He gently places his hand over your sopping panties and your breath hitches, your whole body feeling grateful for some sort of contact. His brows furrowed as he slowly rubs his middle finger along your clothed slit, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels even more of your wetness seep through the fabric as he pushes into it. His mind feels hazy; he has to taste you. He takes his hand away, licking his middle finger and he feels as if his whole body exploded. He moans quietly to himself, before gripping your thighs and sticking his tongue out, licking a slow, long stripe between your clothed folds to your clit. Your eyes roll back as you gasp and moan. His fingers dig into the skin of your thighs as he feels himself lose all sense of sanity. He wanted nothing more than to take his time, but fuck, he can’t do it anymore. 
His lips instantly latch around your clothed clit, sucking and lapping his tongue as he starts to subconsciously rut his hips against the mattress. His saliva soaks your panties entirely as he presses his tongue more firmly, causing you to moan louder, gasping, as your hand makes its way to his hair, your fingers tangling in it. He moans and pulls away only a little before diving back in, pushing your panties to the side with his face as he makes out between your folds. His jaw is working overtime, his tongue lapping and picking up as much of you as you can give, His nose bumps against your clit as he loses himself in your taste, eating you out like a madman. He groans and moans into you, his hip movements stuttering as he licks all the way back up to your clit, moving his right hand off of your thigh before pushing his middle and ring finger into you, making sure to rub them between your folds before he does. He sucks and licks your clit, moaning and whimpering as he pushes his fingers in and out of you, not stopping until his knuckles prevent him. 
You moan his name, gripping his hair, pushing his face against your clit more as your legs shake and you cum, moaning his name. He whimpers and the way you taste sends him over the edge as he feels himself cum in his pants, his jaw falling slack a bit, and he pulls his fingers out, desperate to lick them clean. You let go of his hair, trying to catch your breath and he sits up, his face slick and covered in you, and he tugs your panties off. You look at him, watching as he undresses himself and you feel your body become light as he reveals more and more of himself to you. His bare chest, his abs, god, his biceps, you were about ready to start touching yourself at the sight, desperate for him, but you managed to stay put. 
He feels his ego boost a little bit, watching how you look at him, examining his body as if he is some work of art. He’s going to give you everything he knows you deserve and that thought alone makes him smirk. You notice as he takes off his underwear the wet patch from his prior release, making you grin a bit. He finally lets his cock out, it still being painfully hard despite him having cummed already, and you gaze at it. You feel yourself clench around nothing, wanting him so desperately to fill you up and he sees it. He smiles innocently, as if you both aren’t completely naked and horny before he grabs a cigarette and lights it. He takes a drag as he spreads the precum spilling from his tip all along his length and you watch his every movement, honestly feeling your mouth water at the sight. You sit up and he motions his head to the window as the cigarette sits between his lips. 
You turn and face the window, propping your forearms against the windowsill as you look outside, the cool breeze honestly feeling nice against your flushed, hot skin. You feel his presence shift behind you as he takes another drag. He sighs softly, looking at yourself propped like this, he places his free hand on your hip, lining himself up with you. He moves that hand and gently brushes your hair softly to the side, exposing your back entirely, and you turn your head a bit to look back at him. He exhales some smoke and meets your gaze, gently brushing his fingers along your cheek. 
“Relax…” he says before leaning to whisper in your ear, “and don’t be afraid to let the neighborhood know my name.” he says before kissing your cheek. 
You feel your body shudder at his words and he holds the cigarette between his lips as he uses one hand to hold your hip, the other gripping his cock before he slides it up and down, teasingly, between your folds. You gasp softly and he smirks, pushing his tip against your clit and he hisses a little, more precum leaking from his tip. He guides his cock into you, needing to quickly grab his cigarette from his mouth due to his jaw falling slack as he bottoms out into you. Your fingers grip the edge of the windowsill, your jaw dropping as you feel him finally giving you what you want. You moan and become breathless. He takes another drag from his cigarette before moving his hand from your hip to your shoulder as he pulls his hips away and then thrusts himself back into you entirely.
He filled you up perfectly, and he was damn ready to cum just from the way it felt like you perfectly felt around him. So warm and so fucking wet. He thrusts in and out of you a few times, groaning as you moan, sounds of you coating his cock more and more each time he goes in and out of you. He takes a shaky inhale from his cigarette, his eyes rolling back a bit as he thrusts a bit faster, before taking the cigarette out of his mouth, gripping the back of your head, a handful of your hair between his fingers, as he pulls you up and turns your head towards him. You moan and whine looking at him as he kisses you, shotgunning you this time as he keeps a steady pace of thrusting into you. You felt like you were going to choke, but you inhale what he exhales and as he pulls away, you turn back and lean your forearms against the windowsill as you blow out the smoke, gasping afterwards and moaning his name.
“Good girl,” he groans and puts the cigarette out, putting both of his hands on your hips, thrusting faster. “Such a good girl.” 
You moan at his praise and breathe quickly as all you can do is let out strings of long moans as you feel his cock press into you over and over, him somehow hitting every area that makes your knees weak and mind hazy. His fingers dig into your skin as his hips rapidly pound and slap against your ass, the sound of skin slapping becoming louder and louder. You moan his name loudly, and as a reward, he pushes further, you feeling his tip brush against your cervix and you gasp, moaning his name lewdly. He grunts, the way you just moaned his name almost made him cum automatically. 
“Louder, sweetheart, come on.”
You gasp for air as he fucks you so goddamn good, and you try to arch your lower back a bit so he can go deeper. You moan his name as many times as he wants, whatever it takes for him to rut in and out of you faster, to which he obliged. His breathing becomes heavy and your legs shake as you throw your head back a bit, your jaw dropping as you let out a long moan, cum spreading all over his cock. He grunts and whimpers, wrapping his arms around your waist as his brows knit together, him leaning down and kissing your shoulder as he pumps you full of cum, a low moan coming from him and onto your shoulder. He moans your name softly as he lets out a few more shallow thrusts, making sure he gives you every last drop. You feel yourself shiver as the warm liquid pushes into you and you whine a little. 
After a moment of him holding you close and staying inside of you, he kisses your shoulder softly again before pulling out and pulling away. He lays back onto the bed and you shudder as you feel his and your cum spilling out of you and trailing slowly down your inner thigh. He opens his arms a bit and you go to him, letting out a sigh as you rest your head on his chest and feeling content when his arms wrap around you. His hand slowly moves up and down your back before he kisses the top of your head. It’s silent for a while as you both lay there.
“So…we’re a thing now?” you ask, partly joking, but part of you was seriously asking.
He looks down at you and scoffs playfully. “After all of this, you still don’t get it?” he chuckles softly. “I want nobody but you.”
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andvys · 2 days
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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.
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Chapter fifteen ⭐︎ I thought the plane was going down, how’d you turn it right around?
Warnings: slight angst, fluff, a lot of fluff, alcohol consumption, clingy!reader, drunk!reader
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: Steve gets to know a side of you, you have never shown him before, and he takes the final step towards realization.
Word count: 10k+
Author’s note: SO @hellfire--cult and I have been waiting for this chapter (and especially for the next one). I'm so happy that we're finally here, and as always I'm giving a special shoutout to my lovely Roe, who not only helped with ideas but also wrote the whole last paragraph, the drive home and all the fluff at Steve's house. Give her all the love she deserves ♡ ilysm roe thank youuuu
Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter
Red, white and blue colors flash before your eyes, everywhere you look as you walk through the grocery store with Max. You can’t even bear to look at the holiday themed snacks and decorations on the shelves. All week, people have been preparing for a holiday, you used to love, now it’s nothing but a reminder of what you lost – of what Max lost. 
You avoided going to Big Buy’s all week, for this exact reason. 
But now you were the one who offered to go inside, when Eddie was the one who wanted to get the pre-drinks, you don’t even know why you did it, maybe it was to get away from Dustin’s and Lucas’s banter, or maybe you just wanted to prepare yourself for something much bigger. 
The Fun Fair takes place this year, just as it did, last year. And you friends wanted to celebrate the Fourth of July there. You don’t mind, you really don’t, but every place you turn today, reminds you of a dear friend you lost. 
Max walks beside you quietly. She looks around with heavy eyes and tension in her shoulders, she’s fidgeting with the bracelet that Lucas gifted to her, and keeps her eyes on the ground. 
You didn’t say anything yet, not wanting to trigger any more sadness. You’re surprised that she even offered to go inside with you, she could’ve waited and stayed with the guys, but she didn’t. 
“This day sucks.” 
These are the first words she spoke out loud, ever since you stepped inside the store.
“Yeah,” you mumble, quietly, not knowing what to say, because all you can think about is Billy, and how he died on this exact day, one year ago, when you were still so unaware of the dark truth that lied beneath this town, when you thought that it was the fire that killed him and not one of Vecna’s creatures. 
You weren’t even there, but thinking about it makes you sick and angry. You can’t even imagine what Max must’ve felt like that night. Or what she is feeling now. 
When you stop in the drink aisle, you look around for the beer Eddie asked for, but instead your eyes fall on the one brand that Billy always used to buy. Sometimes he’d bring a six pack over and leave some cans in your fridge for some other time, you are pretty sure that there are still two leftover cans hidden behind all the other drinks in your fridge. 
A sigh falls from your lips, “yeah, it does.” 
She glances at you, sadness settling into her features, when she sees the way your eyes fill with grief. 
“Billy would roll his eyes at us, right now,” she mumbles, trying to crack a joke. 
A small chuckle escapes you, and you turn to look at her with a weak smile on your face, “yes, he would.” 
She purses her lips as she looks at the beer, “are you gonna let me drink tonight?” 
You scrunch your nose, and shake your head, “are you crazy?” You scoff, as you step forward and reach for the beers, Eddie asked for, and the ones Billy would have gotten for himself. “How about you turn twenty one first, and then I’ll let you drink.” 
Max laughs at you and rolls her eyes. 
“You’re not even twenty one, and you’re drinking – oh! And buying the beers with a fake ID probably!” 
“Shush,” you wave your hand at her when an employee walks past you, giving you both a weird look. 
“I’m very close to twenty one,” you whisper. 
“You’re not even twenty yet–”
“I’m turning twenty, this year. Now stop arguing with me, and get yourself a coke or something.”
Max groans at you, “fine,” she murmurs as she follows you, “why are you even getting any drinks now when you can buy some at the Fair?”
“I’m pretty sure that Eddie doesn’t want to buy any of those overpriced drinks that taste like absolute shit.” 
She snorts, “he shouldn’t even be drinking, he’s driving.” 
“Don’t worry, he’ll walk you all home if he gets drunk.” 
Her jaw drops, and annoyance flashes in her eyes, “are you serious–”
You laugh at the look on her face, shaking your head at her, “I’m just kidding, when does Eddie ever get drunk?” You chuckle, “he’ll have one beer tops, no more, he’ll sober up till then, and if not then uh… Steve will drive you home.”
“Okay,” she sighs, as the momentarily amusement leaves her face again, and the sadness begins to sink back in, making you much more aware of your own. 
“Hey, Max?” 
She turns back to you, and raises her eyebrows in question. 
“If you feel overwhelmed at some point, you can find me and we can leave, at any time, okay?” 
She smiles a little and nods her head. 
“Okay,” she whispers, “same goes for you, if you want to leave, I’ll go with you.” 
“Okay,” you smile at her, “now let’s go pay for these and get out of here,” you mumble as you gesture to the beer in your hands. 
You feel relief rushing through you once you are out of the busy store again. The golden evening sun hits your skin, still blessing it with warmth, the air around you smells like summer, like fresh cut grass, hot pavement and honeysuckle. The wind kisses your skin and blows through your hair, it’s warm yet refreshing, it feels nice. 
“Did you buy that for me?” Dustin grins at you, pointing at the beers when you get into the passenger seat. 
Eddie glares at him through the rearview mirror. 
“Very funny, Dusty Bun.”
Lucas laughs at the nickname, nudging his shoulder against Dustin’s, “Dusty Bun,” he cackles, wiggling his brows. 
“Shut up, dude.” 
“You kids are too young to even think about trying beer,” you glare at the three teens in the back, most specifically at Lucas, who’s had some before. 
His smile falls a little, and he clears his throat, “that was one time.”
“Yeah, it better stay that way,” you point at him. 
Max snorts at the glare on your face. 
“Yes, mom.”
Eddie and Dustin chuckle. 
Your jaw drops, and you furrow your brows at the teen who is squished between Max and Dustin. 
“You act like a mom sometimes!” Lucas raises his hands up in surrender, shrugging at you. 
“No, I don’t!” 
“Yeah, you do, you’re mama bear,” Eddie snorts, making Dustin laugh louder. 
“Yeah, you’re not fooling us with your grumpy act.” 
You squint your eyes at the curly head, who is grinning happily at you. 
“Just accept it, Sweetheart,” Eddie chuckles, “you’re the mom of the group.”
“No, I only joined this group a few months back, there has to be a different mom–”
“Oh no, we only had single dad Steve,” Lucas giggles, wiggling his eyebrows at you, “but we got a mom and a dad now, so…” 
The smug look on his face, and the teasing in his eyes, isn’t exactly hard to miss. You know exactly what he is going at, what he has been going at for the past few months now. 
Sometimes, you can’t help but wonder if he somehow knows about your feelings for Steve, if he always knew about them, or if he is simply just teasing and still in the dark about everything. 
You are good at hiding your feelings, you always have been, no one ever found out about your feelings for Steve unless you wanted them to, but if there is someone who you wouldn’t underestimate, then it’s definitely Lucas, he is too smart for his own good, sometimes.
Eddie snorts beside you, mumbling, “mommy and daddy.” 
You elbow him, into his side, earning a groan from him. 
“That wasn’t very nice!” Eddie grumbles as he shoots you a glare, and presses his hand against his stomach. 
“Don’t be so dramatic, Edward.” 
He squints his eyes at you. 
“Who is Eddie then?” Dustin asks. 
“He’s the cool uncle,” Lucas shrugs. 
“Damn right, now stop yapping,” Eddie mumbles as he takes a look over his shoulder, “are you ready to throw up Hot Dogs after going on the roller coaster?” 
All three of them groan in disgust, scrunching up their faces, making him laugh. 
You shake your head at him when he starts laughing. 
“You’re such a menace.” 
Eddie only chuckles at you, he starts the car and turns up the music, and he rolls down the windows before he speeds out of the parking lot. 
You embrace the moments of peace before the chaos of the fair hits you, screaming children, crowds of people, and the overwhelming smell of food on every corner are something you are not looking forward to despite the hollowness in your stomach. You couldn’t get anything down the past few days, you nearly threw up this morning when you walked into the diner with Eddie, and the smell of Bacon hit you. 
The wind weaves through your hair as Eddie drives down the main road. 
The sound of music distracts you from your sad thoughts. 
The thought of him, filling your heart with life and your soul with hope.
He grounds you in your worst moments, and he doesn’t even know it.
-
The fairground is alive with music and screaming children, the sound of the roller coasters moving, conversations and laughter from every corner. The dazzling lights are a stark contrast against the dark sky, the smell of food wafts through the air. 
Robin and Vickie are standing next to Steve, giggling about something as they sip on their mixed beers. He is looking around, trying to catch sight of you, but you are nowhere to be found, and he is beginning to worry. 
Max and El had dragged you away for a roller coaster ride, but that was over an hour ago, and he hasn’t seen you ever since. 
Max had warned him before, when she reminded him of what this day means to you, of what happened a year back, of what and who you had lost. 
Steve doesn’t know how you deal with grief, how you feel on these kinds of days, there are too many of them in your life. He doesn’t know how you cope, he wishes that he could be there for you and give you a shoulder to lean on – but you aren’t very good at showing your true feelings or emotions, he only saw a glimpse of the truth that you hide behind those high walls you built around yourself and he doubts that you would come to him for comfort. 
A dreadful feeling is gnawing in his chest the more time passes without you being seen. 
“Hey Dingus, we’re going on the Ferris Wheel,” Robin nudges his shoulder, grinning at him. 
He blinks, tearing his eyes away from the crowds, he nods at his best friend. 
“Sure, have fun.” 
Robin furrows her brows as she takes in the sight of his frown, “are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he murmurs and plasters a smile on his face, “go and have fun with your girl.” 
She hesitates, her smile becoming weaker now, “you should go find Eddie or Dustin.”
“Yeah, I will, in a second.” 
“Your feet are not glued to the ground are they?” Vickie asks, chuckling. 
“Yeah, you’ve been stuck in this spot for like thirty minutes now!” Robin exclaims as she points her ringed finger at him, eyeing the way he is leaning against the wall with tension in his body. 
Steve chuckles, and brings his hand up to the side of his face, cupping his cheek for a moment, “I’m just looking out for the kids.”
Robin snorts, though she gives him a suspicious look. 
“Ah, but they’re not around,” she says, tilting her head as she gestures to all the strangers that surround the field, instead of the teens. 
“I told them I’d be here if they needed anything,” he shrugs and waves his hand at her, “now go and have your kiss on the top of the Ferris Wheel.” 
Robin slaps his shoulder, her cheeks taking on a deep red color, as Vickie giggles behind her. 
He chuckles at her, wiggling his brows and smirking at his best friend. 
Robin rolls her eyes and turns away from him, she offers her hand out to the redhead, who reaches for it, though with a blush on her cheeks and a shy smile on her lips. 
“See you later, Dingus,” Robin waves at Steve, not giving him the chance to respond before she drags her girl away and pushes through the crowds with her. 
Steve’s eyes follow them until he can no longer see them as they get lost in the midst of the chaos. Laughing children run around, chasing each other, a group of teenage boys carrying drinks they shouldn’t be allowed to buy, two young women walk past him, giggling amongst themselves as they eye him with interest in their eyes, Steve pays no mind to them, not even bothering to spare them a look despite the very obvious glances he is getting, even as they had already passed him. 
His eyes follow a different sight and his ears perk up at the sound of giggles that sound like yours, his lips twitch at the sound and his heart flutters wildly in his chest. 
He pushes himself off the tree he is leaning against and turns to look around. Steve’s hazel eyes soften the moment he finally sees you. 
You are standing in a circle with Eddie and his bandmates who all keep pestering you over something. Eddie leans closer to you and pinches your cheek, while Gareth jumps around you like some hyper puppy, his curls bouncing and his face flickering with amusement when you keep waving your hand at him. 
Steve smiles at the giggle that falls from your lips when Eddie swats your hand away after you ruffle his curls. 
He watches the way your lips move as you stare at him with a smug look on your face, saying something to him that makes him clutch his chest and gasp dramatically. 
Steve shakes his head as the metalhead lunges at you and you squeal in surprise before you turn around and run off with a giggle, bolting into the crowd with Eddie and Gareth hot on your heels, while Jeff and Grant follow the three of you slowly, shaking their heads in amusement.
Surprise lingers inside of him, Steve had never seen you so playful before, he had never witnessed you letting loose and having genuine fun. You are always on guard, always hiding away behind your brooding act that is slowly becoming less and less visible. 
Something has changed, something in your behavior has shifted in the past few weeks. You seem happier, you seem to smile more, you seem to be kinder to the people around you. 
Your walls are still up, but the foundation has begun to crumble, just like his did. 
You let him see a glimpse of something he never thought was even there, he saw your vulnerable side and your soft one, he saw how lovingly you treated your baby niece, he saw how sweet and gentle you could be – he saw the real you and it only made him weaker than ever before. 
There was always a part of him that left him feeling weak whenever he was with you – it wasn’t a bad kind of weak, but it was one that scared him. 
It doesn’t scare him anymore. 
He embraces the weakness now. 
Something, someone crashes into his chest, making him stumble back from the force, when he looks down, he finds you staring up at him, with your arms now wrapped around his waist and a softened look in your eyes as a smile rests on your lips. The dazzling, colorful lights from the rollercoaster and the ferris wheel only brighten the color of your eyes, making him get lost in them so easily. 
He feels your arms around his torso, and your hands on his back, your chest is now pressed against his and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say that the look in your eyes is a dreamy one as they look into his. 
The warmth in his chest blooms, the smile on his lips grows bigger, something in his stomach flutters when you stand on your tippy toes and remind him of the height difference between the two of you. 
“Hi Stevie,” you say softly. 
He would be lying if he said, he isn’t caught off guard by the tone in your voice and the look in your eyes, by your arms that are wrapped around him and your body that is pressed against his, so tightly and intimately, despite all the eyes that could see. 
“Hi Blondie,” he smiles as he slowly wraps his arms around you and acts on his feelings, when he brings you closer. 
The smell of your perfume is intoxicating and it does nothing to weaken the fluttering in his stomach. You smell like the cotton candy that you had shared with Max earlier and the beer you probably had been drinking all night, which is surprising, considering how much you despise the bitter taste of beer. 
“I missed you.” 
His eyes widen in surprise, and his eyebrows shoot up, the fluttering in his stomach now growing even stronger than before. 
You woke up in each other's arms this morning, you even sat at the kitchen table and drank your morning coffee together before you left to meet up with Eddie. 
But you missed him. 
You missed him, like he missed you.
Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, or maybe not – he hopes not. 
“Yeah?” He whispers. 
You nod, your eyes flicker to his lips, before they move back up, to meet his. 
“I missed you too, Blondie.”
He nearly crumbles when your smile grows even bigger and a blush creeps up on your face, a breathy, small giggle falls from your lips. And then, you surprise him once again, when you bury your face in his chest and hug him tightly. 
His heart rate picks up and his breathing becomes heavy from all the emotions inside of him. 
He certainly never met this side of you before,and he never even knew that you could become much softer than what he had already seen of you. 
Without looking around to make sure that you are away from prying eyes, he wraps his arms tighter around you, and hugs you in a way he wanted to all night. 
Confusion, adoration and happiness floods through him, all at once. 
Here he thought that this day would bring out some darkness in you, that you would hide in a corner and try to drink away your sorrows but instead the alcohol in your system brought something else out in you. 
As Steve holds you in the middle of the fairground and you slide your palm over his chest, resting your hand above the place where his heart beats strongly, he feels himself falling into your embrace, losing all his vision of the people and the things before him, losing all the sounds around him, no longer feeling the ground beneath his feet – all he sees is you, all he hears is the beating of his own heart, all he feels is you, only you. 
And as though, it didn’t hit him hard enough already, you place your chin on his chest and you tilt your head up to look at him, giving him a sweet smile, “kissy?” You ask, puckering your lips. 
He could melt into a puddle, right then and there. 
Despite not wanting to, he lets his eyes roam the space around you, making sure that none of your friends are watching, before he leans in to place a kiss on your lips – one that is way too quick for your liking, the pout that follows your puckered lips makes his heart burst. 
You look at him with literal puppy eyes, glinting with a pleading look. 
He almost doesn’t recognize you – you are not the Blondie that he saw a few hours back, but he is not complaining in the slightest, he really likes this side of you. 
Cupping your cheeks, he rests his large palms against your skin, his fingertips getting lost in your hair as he leans down to kiss you again, smacking his lips against yours, he delivers a loud kiss, one that makes you giggle when he pulls away again and looks down at you with a lazy smile on his face. 
“How much did you drink?” Steve asks, chuckling when you keep staring at him with a big smile. 
“Just a little bit,” you slur, and raise your hand to show him as you furrow your brows and hold your thumb and pointer finger into an L shape, “so much.” 
He laughs as he tucks your hair behind your ears, “alright.”
“I want something else now.” 
“What, more alcohol?” Steve asks, raising his brows. 
You shake your head, scrunching up your nose in a way that makes him smile as he looks at you adoringly.
“No, I think I had too much already.”
“Yeah, I think so too, honey,” he murmurs, the nickname rolling off his tongue easily, almost normal, “you don’t feel sick, do you?” 
“No, just thirsty.” 
“Alright, let’s get you something to drink then,” he says, unable to stop smiling, when you look at him this way. He moves his hands away from your face and he reaches for your hand, sliding his palm against your own, he entwines his fingers with yours, and you welcome his action, happily. 
Steve isn’t drunk, he didn’t have a single sip of alcohol this evening, not a single drag of Argyle’s joint and yet, he feels as though he is under the influence of something strong, his mind is in a haze, that careless and freeing feeling lingers in his chest, happiness and giddiness rushes through him and he feels as though he is floating with you. 
He can’t even find it in himself to care if anyone sees him with you like this – smiling at each other, hugging and kissing one another, holding hands, and acting like a couple. He knows your friends are here, but Steve just doesn’t give a damn – not even when Heidi walks past him with her friends and they all look at you weirdly. 
He hears the hushed whispers, he sees the squinted eyes as they look you up and down and their eyes fall on your entwined fingers. He pays no mind to the way they look at him, but irritation sparks at him when they keep staring at you. He can see the judgment, and the jealousy, it’s so obvious. 
Steve holds back the eyeroll and he grasps your hand tighter as he begins to drag you away from the prying eyes and the whispers of envy. He would rather kiss you and flip them off but he cannot risk this, he can’t risk you two getting caught. Rumors would circulate, words would get twisted and it would only be a matter of time until all your friends would find out. 
And he isn’t ready to get caught, he isn’t ready to lose this, to lose you. 
He glances down at you, seeing the smile that didn’t leave your face just yet. You are unaware to all the eyes on you, to the looks you were given, you are still holding onto his hand as tight as before, stepping closer to him when a group of boys rush past you. 
You turn to him and raise your head to glance at him, shooting him a sweet smile as you squeeze his hand, causing his heart to flutter and his smile to reappear. 
You are so cute like this. 
He pulls you closer and shields you from anyone who brushes past you as you walk through the crowd together, getting lost in the chaotic field, where the music is louder and the people are too. 
Steve looks around, trying to catch sight of the teens or Eddie and his bandmates but he only sees the town people that he couldn’t care less about while you follow him like some lost puppy, clinging to his side and looking up with big eyes, every few seconds or so. 
You both get in line at the drink stall, your hands are still joined, fingers entwined and arms still pressed together. You stumble into him, prompting him to hold you a little tighter. 
“I’m sorry,” you slur as you reach your free hand up to grab his arm. 
“It’s fine,” he chuckles at you, adoring you a little more and more as the seconds pass. 
You are drunk – not tipsy, not slightly drunk, no, you are genuinely and definitely drunk. And as he stands here with you, eying you closely and watching the way you keep looking up at him with your widened pupils and your lazy smiles, he realizes that he had never actually witnessed you being drunk – high and tipsy? Sure. But never drunk. 
“Why’d you drink so much, Blondie?” 
“I didn’t even drink that much,” you shrug, “I’m just not used to drinking that beer.”
Steve raises his brows, knowing how much you despise the taste of regular beer. You only drink it when it’s mixed with something. 
“What kind of beer?” 
You furrow your eyebrows, your eyes flash with confusion, you seemingly can’t remember the name of it. 
You look down and your eyes widen when you find a discarded can on the grass, you point your finger at it, “that one.”
Steve’s eyes follow your gaze and the direction your finger is pointing at, he raises his eyebrows again. 
“You don’t even like beer that much,” he mumbles and turns back to you. 
“Billy did,” you shrug. 
Oh. 
His features relax again and his shoulders slump a little, realization flickers in his eyes. 
You didn’t drink for fun, you were trying to forget about the sadness and the grief that must’ve lingered all day. 
He is surprised that the alcohol didn’t have a negative effect on you. Drinking while feeling sad can worsen those emotions, the alcohol can transform them into a darker sadness or even into anger and despair. 
But you seem fine, happy even. 
If only he knew that he is the reason for it. 
“The fireworks are about to start,” you say, pulling him out of his thoughts. 
He blinks. 
“Yeah,” Steve nods. 
“Do you want to watch them with me?” 
His heart skips a beat at the softness in your voice, at the hopeful look in your eyes and the sweet smile on your lips. 
Of course he does. 
“Yeah,” he smiles, nodding. “I’d love to.”
Your eyes crinkle as you beam at him, stealing his breath away with simple reactions like these. 
Steve is not even sure if anyone had ever looked at him this way, no one has ever even made him feel this way, no one had ever stolen his breath away just from simply looking at him the way you do now. 
You take him by surprise when you stand on your tippy toes and lean closer to him to place a kiss on his cheek, leaving him a blushing mess. 
Your giggle sounds like music to his ears, your touch drives him crazy as you squeeze yourself against him and lay your head on his chest as your arms come around his torso again. 
He could fall to his knees right here, right now. 
Is this the real you? 
Is this the side you’ve been hiding from the world? 
Is this the way you would have always been with him, had you not experienced so much loss and pain? 
Steve wraps his arms around you, unable to hold back from showing and giving you the affection that you are blessing him with in this moment, even when the anxiety of getting caught still lingers. 
He cups your cheeks and leans closer to your ear, “where do you wanna watch the fireworks?” 
“Maybe the woods? Or the big field?” You ask as you look at him with big eyes, “so we can be away from all these annoying people?”
He laughs when you gesture to the loud fairground visitors.
The lights that flicker around you kiss your beautiful face and your skin that he wants to feel on his at any time, your lips that always look so inviting, you look so delicate, so soft, so gorgeous, you look like someone that could ruin his life and right in this moment, he doesn’t even mind it, he would let you. 
It hits him, in this second, it hits him just how bad he’s got it for you. 
Steve Harrington is down bad. 
Down bad to a point in which he almost calls you ‘my girl’ when he is about to order your drink, he catches himself just in time but he can’t hide the blush that creeps up on his face. 
You don’t seem to notice though, you swing your joined hands back and forth and look around with a contentment in your relaxed features. 
He hands you the ice cold pepsi after placing the ten dollar bill on the small desk, telling the teen behind the counter to keep the change. 
“That was nice of you,” you say as you both start walking away from the drink stall and from the crowds.
“What, letting him keep the change?” 
You nod and let go of his hand to open your can. 
“Poor guy has to work on a holiday, he should get a good tip,” Steve shrugs, already missing the feeling of your hand in his, he raises his arm and wraps it around your shoulder instead, pulling you closer against him. 
Your lips twitch at that, a smile forms on your face. 
“Still, that was nice of you, you’re a nice guy,” you giggle. 
“Well, I gotta make up for all the times I wasn’t a nice guy.”
You don’t say anything to that, you can’t. Steve doesn’t even blame you, you witnessed him in his worst moments, you were his target, more than once. 
You shot back at him but your words weren’t hurtful, your insults and your jabs were never personal. You got under his skin, but not in the way he got under yours. 
He truly wasn’t a nice guy to you and that might be one of his biggest regrets. He was mean, awful even and now as he looks at you, at the cute frown on your face as you pop the can, at the way you take a sip of your favorite drink and smile afterwards, he can’t understand how he could ever treat you so unkindly, how he didn’t see you before.  
You might’ve been rough, snarky and unapproachable but there was never denying of how beautiful you are, how beautiful you have always been. 
How come he never asked you out? 
He might’ve never seen this side of you before and he only ever knew one side of you, but your snarkiness wouldn’t have kept King Steve away from you, if anything, your little act should’ve made him more intrigued. 
And now he can’t help but wonder what things would have been like had he not treated you the way he did, had he asked you out and fought for a chance with you. 
Could’ve things been different then? 
Would you have fallen in love with him? 
Would you have prevented the heartbreak that Nancy had cursed him with two years ago? 
The pain from his last relationship no longer matters to Steve, not since you, but this question still lingers. 
“This spot is perfect.”
You pull him out of the past and back into the presence with a tug on his hand. 
Steve looks around, you are no longer surrounded by people, instead it’s the trees that are around you and him, you’re at the edge of the forest, not far enough to drown at the music and the chatter but quiet enough to hear your voice clearer now, it’s much darker out here but he can still see you well enough. 
You close your eyes and drink your pepsi, completely unaware of his unwavering glances. A sigh leaves your lips and you place the now half full can on the ground before you step closer to him and reach for his hand again, taking a look at the watch around his wrist, you squint your eyes and lean down closer, “it’s about to start any minute.” 
He smiles at you, nodding his head slowly, “yeah.”
Steve feels the urge to pull you tight against him, to hold you and kiss you like he never did before. 
You look up and meet his eyes when you notice his staring, a smile appears on your lips, “what?” You ask with a soft giggle. 
He shakes his head and shrugs, “nothing.”
You bite your lip and he wants nothing more than to grab your face and kiss you breathless. 
You raise your eyebrows at him and stare back at him, stumbling over air as you try to take a step closer to him, making you both chuckle at your drunken clumsiness, your hand falls against his body, while he grabs your waist, steadying you on your own feet, “whoa, easy tiger.” 
You giggle at the nickname, making his own smile widen. 
“You’re really drunk, aren’t you?” 
You don’t even deny it, in fact, you don’t even answer the question as you keep staring up at him, keeping your hands against his chest as your eyes flicker from the spitcurl that hangs over his forehead, his eyes and his lips. 
Steve’s stomach flutters just the way his heart does, his skin tingles beneath from your touches, the look in your eyes makes him want to kiss you even more. 
“You’re feeling okay though, right?” He whispers as he slowly brings his hand up to the side of your face and he cups your cheek. 
“Yeah, I’m okay now,” you nod, leaning into his touch, “I-I just… I miss him.”
Steve might never understand the friendship you had with Billy, he only knew the ugly sides of him but you knew more, you saw deeper, you were his friend – something Steve didn’t even know Billy had, he was sure the guy didn’t even know what the term ‘friendship’ even meant. 
“And that’s okay, Blondie,” he says, giving you a sad smile, “it’s okay to miss people and to grieve for them.”
Tears well up in your eyes and your lips curl downwards. 
Steve didn’t mean for this to happen, he didn’t mean to make you cry. 
“Hey,” he whispers, pulling you closer as he catches the first tear with his thumb, “it’s okay, honey.”
You sniffle and roll your eyes at yourself, “he would punch me in the face for crying,” you joke.
Steve can’t help but laugh. 
“And he’d make fun of me for being with you, he would like–” you pause and lean in to peck his lips, “he would smack my head if I did that in front of him!” You say with a giggle, despite the tears that still keep falling.
His cheeks heat up at the kiss, the need for more growing strong in his chest. 
“He really didn’t like me, huh?”
“Not one fucking bit, Stevie,” you chuckle sadly. 
Steve wonders how things would be if he was still here, would this thing between you even work out? 
Would Billy keep you away from him?
“But nothing could take me away from you, he’d just have to suck it up,” you whisper as you peck his lips again, shutting down the worries in his head. 
He almost feels his pulse in his throat as his heart beats faster, your words doing little to calm the beating of his heart. 
“Oh?” Is the only thing he can say as all the other words freeze in his brain. 
You nod as you look into his eyes deeply, refusing to break eye contact. He notices the way your chest starts moving faster as your breathing gets heavier, he sees the way your smile transforms into a nervous frown and your throat bobs as you try to come up with words. 
His breath hitches in his throat when you whisper his name shakily. 
“I–”
Whatever you were about to say gets lost in the wind as the loud explosion in the sky cuts you off and tears your attention away from him. The colors pop in the sky, illuminating the darkened space around you both.
You tilt your head to watch the lights that reflect in your eyes, the smile you wore before makes its way back into your pretty face, the tension in your body disappears and you relax into him again. 
But while your drunken mind gets distracted by all of this so easily, Steve only really sees you. He doesn’t look up just yet, he lets himself admire you for a moment. 
Your eyes light up as they meet his for a brief second, flashing with awe. 
His heart could jump out of his chest from how hard it’s beating, his knees could give out any moment now. 
“Look!” You beam at him as you point your finger at the blue colors. 
His gaze follows yours but it returns to your face so quickly, something about you pulls him in, a magnet, a string, a strong connection – he can’t identify it yet, but he feels like his whole being yearns for you and not just sexually. 
He wants to keep doing this, he wants to keep holding your hand, he wants to keep hugging you, he wants to keep spending time with you like this, he wants to stand under the night sky with you, and he especially wants to do this. 
“Hey,” he whispers as he cups your cheeks with both hands, pulling your attention back to him. 
You greet him with an adoring smile, “hi,” you whisper.
Steve caresses your cheek, he is starting to lean in closer, fading out the colors that flash in his peripheral vision, before his lips can even touch yours, you throw your arms around his neck and beat him to it, pressing your lips against his over and over again before you move on to both of his cheeks and even the tip of his nose as you start showering him in kisses, catching him off guard completely. 
Steve giggles in surprise, his cheeks match the colors that lighten up the sky as they glow red. 
And then, you finally pull him into a longer kiss. 
You close your eyes and he does too, your lips start moving slowly, passionately. You rest your hands on his neck and steal his breath away by deepening the kiss as you slip your tongue into his mouth and let him have a taste of your sweetness, the cotton candy and the pepsi still linger on your lips. 
Your noses bump into each other and you break the kiss with a giggle, giving him a sweet smile before you lean back in again, kissing and continuing to steal his breath away, not knowing what you have just done to his poor heart, how much life, how much hope you have filled it with. 
A smile, a giggle, a simple kiss with you is all it takes for all the defense around him to crumble into dust. 
Something he thought he lost seeps back into his heart, something he thought that stayed in the past and to never be touched again blooms in him. 
Everything inside of him screams in joy, his stomach doing somersaults, his skin prickling from the excitement, his lips tugging into a smile even through the kiss that he deepens more and more. 
This kiss is different from all the other ones you have shared before, this one means something, this one won’t lead to you tearing each other’s clothes off. No, this is just a kiss. 
A kiss that means everything. 
A kiss that changes everything. 
You stole his breath completely and made it your own, you stole his heart, his soul, his whole being. 
And the noise of the fireworks, the sparks igniting from them, match those in Steve's heart. Just exploding, bursting, burning him from inside out.
And he embraces the feeling fully.
He wants more of this, more of you. 
He wants to cross a line, he wants you in a whole new way and he is no longer ashamed to admit it to himself. 
It feels like forever as you stand there beneath the sparkling sky, kissing and staying in each other’s embrace as you both savor every second of this moment, only pulling away to catch your breaths before you lean back in for more. 
The fireworks stop, but only those in the sky. 
Your lips are still moving with each other, your tongues still mingling together, whines and whimpers fall from you – tonight, they don’t fill him with lust and need, no, tonight they fill him with adoration. 
Your arms tighten around his neck, your nose is flush against his as you refuse to break the kiss but the lack of air makes it impossible and it forces you away from him, though you don’t pull away too far, only enough to catch your breath.
Steve leans his forehead against yours, slowly opening his eyes to look into yours, his heart flutters yet again when he sees how wide your eyes are, how they flicker with deep emotions. 
Unable to hold back, he leans in to peck your puffy lips one more time. 
“Steve,” you whisper as your hands begin to slip from his shoulders to his chest. 
“Yes?”
“Can I be with you tonight?”
He furrows his brows at your question, he wants you to be with him tonight, he wants you with him every night. 
“Of course, Blondie.”
You smile at him though it’s a weak one and it makes him frown. 
“What’s wrong?” 
“Nothing,” you shake your head, scrunching your nose. 
“Are you feeling sick?” He asks, tilting your head up. 
You shake your head again, “just really tired.”
Your words are still slurred, the alcohol still deep in your system. 
“Let’s go home then.”
“Do you want to go?” You ask, looking at him with a cute frown on your face as you tilt your head to the side, “I-I can still wait if you want to stay here longer.”
Steve smiles at you, shaking his head, “no, I want to go home with you.”
The smile on your lips replaces the frown. 
He brushes his thumb against your bottom lip and stares at you adoringly. 
“Come on, we should tell Eddie.” 
You pick up your discarded drink before you slide your fingers through his, intertwining your fingers with his again. 
“Let’s go,” he whispers, squeezing your hand. 
You follow him without a single word, walking beside him quietly as you make your way out of the woods and back into the fair where the lights are bright and he can see you better now. 
It’s still just as crowded as it was before and just as loud. 
Steve keeps you close, glancing at you, he notices the squinted eyes and how displeased you look by all the noises and the people around you. 
He holds your hand tighter, giving it another reassuring squeeze. 
“I can’t wait to go to sleep,” you mumble, taking the last few sips of your soda before you throw it into the trashcan you pass by. You wrap your free hand around his bicep and squish your cheek against it.
Steve’s smile widens, his eyes glint with nothing but fondness. 
“There you are!” 
Steve turns to find Eddie walking towards you both, throwing his hands up with a worried look on his face that slowly begins to disappear when he realizes that you have been with him all this time, though his eyebrows pull together when he sees your entwined hands and the closeness between you. 
Steve expects you to run away from him and into your best friend’s arms, but you don’t, you stick to his side. 
“Hi Eddie!” You mumble lazily as a smile appears on your face. 
You all halt in your tracks once you meet in the middle. 
“Hey sweets, are you okay?” He asks, eying you up and down one more time. 
“Peachy!”
“Where have you been?” 
Steve clears his throat, “we watched the fireworks from the woods and now I’m gonna take this one home, she’s tired.”
Eddie squints his eyes at him, giving a once over now – the way he has been doing it for some time now, like he is suspicious of his actions, like he wants to figure him out so he can protect you from him and irritates Steve. 
“I can take her home,” Eddie shrugs. 
“No!” You protest, clinging to Steve’s arm, you hold him tighter not wanting to be pulled away from him. 
Steve chuckles softly, he looks down at you adoringly. 
“Don’t worry, Eddie. I’ll take her home to sleep, maybe shove some coffee down her throat, see if that helps. I am sensing I’m having a hungover Blondie tomorrow.” 
Eddie raises one eyebrow at him, he crosses his arms over his chest, defensively. And Steve notices it from the corner of his eye, causing the smile to leave his face as a frown etches into his features instead. 
“I’m not doing anything if that's what you’re fucking thinking, Munson.” 
Eddie raises his hands up in surrender, “sorry, can’t blame me for caring.”
That… Stings. 
That actually hurts his feelings. 
He may not be as close to Eddie as you are to him, but Eddie knows him well enough to know that he would never do anything like this. 
“You really think I’m that disgusting?” Steve asks, not bothering to hide the hurt in his voice. 
Eddie sighs. 
Of course he doesn’t. 
He is just protective of his best friend, of her feelings. 
Neither of you notice the way you keep looking between them, completely lost and confused. 
“I don’t know what kind of deal you both have, Steve, but I’m allowed to care. I would’ve given her the same look if the roles were reversed.” 
“She’s not like that,” Steve argues instantly. 
Eddie sighs again, uncrossing his arms, he drops them to his side as he takes a look at the sky with a long sigh. 
“I know she’s not, I know you’re not. Just… take care of her…”
Steve is still hurt by Eddie’s reaction, by the accusing look in his eyes, like Steve would do anything to hurt you. 
He knows that it might only be because you are his best friend, because he feels protective of you, because he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you – but to know that he was worried about you while you were with him makes him feel sick. 
Steve would never do anything to hurt someone, let alone you. 
“Can we go now?” You ask, looking up at him with big eyes. 
A weak smile appears on his face as he looks down at you, “yeah, we can go.”
Steve doesn’t notice the way Eddie’s squinted eyes linger on him, the way he looks down at your hands, watching as Steve pulls you closer despite you being glued to his side already. 
He can’t help but sigh when he sees the way you look at him, the dreaminess and the love is so evident and it worries him, your feelings for Steve worry him because he fears that he will break your heart, that he will rip it out of your chest. 
Eddie is so focused on his worries, he doesn’t even see the way Steve looks at you. 
“I’m gonna call you tomorrow, Eds.”
Eddie smiles at you, “yeah, alright.” 
Steve nods at Eddie, only giving him a small smile as he starts pulling you away. 
“Bye man,” Steve mumbles as he brushes past him. 
“Bye Eddie!” 
“Yeah, sleep well, sweets.” Eddie smiles, waving at you. 
Walking away from the fairground and leaving behind the crowds of people and your best friend feels like a relief to Steve. He can’t move past the glances the metalhead gave to him, the worried looks he spared you as though you were in some kind of danger with him. 
He can’t confront him, he can’t talk to him about it and tell him how wrong he is though, he would give away his feelings and he can’t do that. 
You walk beside him quietly, not a single word falls from your lips, you just keep holding his hand, looking up at him every once in a while until you make it to his car. 
Steve opens the door for you, begrudgingly letting go of you so you can get inside, he helps you buckle in your seatbelt, a surprised chuckle falls from his lips when you use the opportunity to kiss his cheek and he can’t even help himself but do the same to you, smacking his lips against your cheek to give you a loud smooch, one that makes you giggle. 
He can see the tiredness in your eyes, the way you slowly blink and how you sink deeper into the car seat as you yawn. 
“Let's get you into bed, honey.”
Steve keeps the music on low during the drive home, you keep dozing off as your head keeps falling to the side but every time you open your eyes again, you look at him and you keep your eyes on him, making him blush beneath your softened gaze. 
And then, you make his heart swell and his chest vibrate when you place your hand on his thigh and smile at him sweetly. 
Everything about you drives him crazy today. 
Every glance, every touch, every word, every kiss. 
You have brought something out in him, something that was buried deep inside, hidden and locked away but you have found the key, you unlocked it, you brought something back that he thought was impossible to ever resurface again and you made it yours, you made him yours, all yours. 
And now, he wants to give you everything. 
He wants to take care of you, he wants to shower you with affection, he wants to be the one for you. 
You’re making things complicated but in the most amazing of ways, in the most beautiful of twists that he couldn’t believe would happen again for him. Your small glances are enough to turn a flame in his entire body, your hand on his thigh as he parks at his home enough to send butterflies in his stomach, butterflies that he swore died when Nancy broke his heart.
Your touch is enough to make him tremble and make his knees buckle, when he helps you out of his car, both of you laugh as you almost fall right on your ass, even with his help. He is happy. He is content. He is extremely giddy when he is with you, as if he were fourteen all over again.
Even when you are not like this, when you are not this bubbly uncaring self, he still enjoys his time with you. He enjoys the accidental snorts that make him laugh as you swat him to try to stop him from laughing. The happy delighted moans you give when you try his cooking. The out of nowhere conversations in the mornings that you two now share together. 
He likes it when you put on that strong wall, it makes you look cute, it makes him want to break it down. He loves the small banter, the pretend fights when you two are with the whole group, the way you pinch his side when you walk past him when no one is looking. He adores it.
When he finally manages to get you inside, he immediately urges you into the kitchen, making you drink water, not pepsi, despite your pouts and your teary eyes which almost make him become a puddle on the floor. He also gives you a leftover chicken sandwich he had in his fridge so you would eat something to absorb the alcohol.
“Eat at least half of that.” He commands and you just grumble something, cutely so, underneath your breath as you take a bite. He knew you probably didn’t eat anything at the fair, a possible reason for your drunkenness.
“I’ll eat… if you give me a kiss.” And just like that you pucker your lips his way and his heart can barely handle it. He licks his lips before leaning towards you and placing them on yours in a soft peck, a quick one. You smile before taking the first bite, and when you swallow it seems as if it turns on the hunger in your belly because you devour that sandwich in seconds.
He hopes you keep it down your stomach for the whole night and that it helps you feel okay in the morning. He wonders how you will act tomorrow, if you’ll remember all of this, if you’ll remember how much you kissed him, how you made him feel. He should tell you… He should…
But what if it’s the alcohol doing its thing?
“Okay, let’s go to bed.” And doing so turns out to be a challenge because as soon as you finish your food and water, your eyelids start to drop. Getting you off the stool and dragging you upstairs is easy but keeping you sitting up as he tries to change you into his clothes, that is another issue.
“I don’t wanna…” You mumble as you throw yourself back down onto the mattress, chest bare. He would have gotten riled up, if it weren’t for the fact he felt domestic, fluttery, and his chuckles came out easily out of his lips when looking at you.
“You have to, it’s just the shirt, come on.” His voice is soft as he talks to you, making you raise yourself up again, sitting in front of him and raising your arms up for him to slide his shirt on you. As soon as it’s on, you bounce back and get comfortable in his pillow with a contented sigh. He smiles at you as he takes off his shirt and starts unbuckling his belt in order to get comfortable. His own tiredness is starting to take a toll on his body.
He doesn’t notice that you had turned your head to look at him again, and a wolf whistle is heard in the room, making him turn to look at you. You have a cheeky smile on your face and he feels himself blushing slightly as he laughs, taking his pants off next, leaving him in boxers only. 
“As if you haven’t seen it before.” He says and it only makes you whistle again as he saunters over with a shake of his head, a smile still plastered on his lips.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t adore it everytime,” you whisper. 
And that makes the smile drop, but in shock. Your words went deep, soothing over wounds that had been created long ago, and he doesn’t mean his scars. He has to clear his throat in order to walk towards the bed and get inside right next to you, only for you to immediately crawl on top of him, laying your chin on his chest, looking at him.
It holds so much adoration for some reason, a sparkle that makes Steve’s stomach turn, hope that rose in his throat like vomit, ready to come out, overwhelming him. You are looking at him as if he hung the stars for you, as if he were your only person in the entire world. 
And he knows he is looking down at you in the exact same way.
“What now?”
“You’re just so pretty… It’s stupid how pretty you are.” He chuckles, making his chest rumble and for you to bounce up and down with it. 
You pout but it’s followed by a smile, “it’s true, you are.”
“I’m not told that very often Blondie.” He honestly replies and that makes you raise your head up and look down at him with determination in your eyes. “Wh–”
He can’t even finish his question because your lips start going crazy on his face, but softly, caring, taking extra time on following the lines of moles he has on his jaw. He is startled, shocked, for no one ever did this to him, not even his own mother. No one ever showered him with affection, with kisses. 
And as though that wasn’t sweet and surprising enough, you nuzzle your nose against his, giggling when a big smile appears on his face. 
You are cute. You are so fucking cute. 
It is an overwhelming feeling, one that almost makes him feel like crying. 
Your lips pressed on the tip of his nose as you pulled away, a proud smile on your face, and he wonders what is going through your mind right now. If it it’s all true, fuck, he wants it all to be true. He needs it to be true. He needs and desires that you are doing all of this intentionally to him, despite the alcohol. 
“There, now you know.” 
You really are beautiful, so beautiful. He feels drunk on you, seeing you, feeling you… his hand rises up, not able to contain himself as it runs through the back of your head and pulls you down to his lips, letting him give you a deep kiss. A kiss that made the fireworks he saw earlier explode inside his room again. 
You follow his lips with a hum, and he doesn’t want to pull away. He needs it all. He needs you. Not in the way he has been having you the past month. Not at all, not even close.
He lets you pull away, and his hand caresses your cheek, pulling your head down to rest on his chest again as your legs intertwine with his underneath the sheets. He wonders if you can hear how fast his heart is beating. If it bangs your head from how hard he feels his chest being hit with it. 
“Sleep Blondie.” He wishes anything but that, but he needs the silence, the time alone.
“Hmm… night Stevie…” And he knows your eyes are closed, that you mumble that with the last bit of strength you had. His eyes remain on the ceiling as his mind starts working, gears going round and round, going overtime.
He had been running from the definition of the feeling, even if he knew it was there, even if he accepted everything else that came with it. He kept running and running, and now he had hit a wall.
So it’s time to stop and turn around to face you.
Steve Harrington decides to stop running as he looks down at you and his lips press at the top of your head while his arms hold you tighter. You whine in your sleep, yet your cheek nuzzles even more into his chest. 
He can’t deny you anymore. Not when you look like this in his arms. Not when you peppered his face with kisses he never received. Not when he saw you in a vulnerable moment of yours. Not when he gets to see you moan in pleasure because of him. Not when he gets to see you have fun with everyone else. Not when you saved his life, going headfirst for him. Not when you already send smiles his way that make his heart stop.
And if you wake up tomorrow with a headache, he will be waiting for you with coffee in hand, an advil, and some food, ready to help you. To take care of you. He will let you lay in his bed all the time you need, all in order to make you feel better.
Because Steve Harrington started feeling again.
He likes you. He terribly and adoringly likes you… and he is afraid because–
It’s nowhere near little. Not at all.
“Can’t believe I fell for you, Blondie.”
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doitforbangchan · 1 day
Text
All Bark and No Bite- 16
Masterlist /Series masterlist
Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8
ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe
Previous - Next
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Chapter warnings: Fem/Afab reader, kinda smut, kissing, bathing together, cursing, crying, pet names, fluff. Really not much for this chapter but lemme know if i missed anything important.
WC: 6.2k
Not gonna lie, this is kind of a filler chapter. But I hope yall enjoy nonetheless :)
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The rumbling that escaped out of Jeongins chest as he pumped you full would have been off putting to anyone around. They would have found the emittance to be dangerous- vicious almost- and possessive, with how deep and gravely the growl was as he bit into the tender flesh of your shoulder for the second time today. Having spent nearly three days with the young Alpha you knew well enough by now that he was nearing control over himself once again as he finished inside of you, the growl more of a warning he had cum. 
He let your used and bruised body slump into the sheet below you, your arms acting as a pillow under your head. Jeongin draped himself over you, pressing you further into the bed. His knot was still locked tightly inside of you and with each movement from him it rubbed against the sore walls of your core. 
The alpha laid wet kisses along your spine after he licked away the blood from his final claim on you. In total over his rut he had bitten into you eight times, in varying places all over your body. You could imagine you looked like you were mauled by a wild animal, though that wouldn’t be far from the reality. 
“I think it’s finally over, baby.” Jeongin breathed into your ear from above. He had a lightness in his voice you hadn’t heard since before his rut started. “I feel the effects lifting from me as if I can breathe again.”
“M’ so glad, Innie.” You murmured, the pure exhaustion you felt was coming through you clearly. “Now you can be comfortable again.” 
He cooed at you, “Oh omega, you sweet baby. I’m more happy for you. You have been so so good to me the last few days, taking everything I gave you with no complaints, letting me take whatever I needed from your precious body.”  He nuzzled into your neck and hair as he felt his knot begin to deflate. You both grunted as he slowly pulled out of you. His copious amount of cum was seeping out of you and onto the already soiled bed. With how much cum, blood, and sweat was covering it Jeongin knew it would be better to just toss it out at this point. “I can’t express how much it means to me- how much you mean to me. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and to our family.” 
You knew it was his post nut clarity that was making him sappy, but you couldn’t stop the sniffles that left you. “Innie… I feel the same way about you and everyone in this pack. You’re my family now and I love you guys.” You strained your neck over to kiss him and he returned the gesture. 
“Even Minho?” He teased, giggling when you rolled your eyes. 
“Hmpf.” You felt your cheeks heat, “Yes, even Minho” You threw a finger at his face menacingly “But don’t you dare say anything!” 
He laughed harder and pulled you closer, kissing your nose. “My lips are sealed. Buuuut, I’m not so sure about the gremlin who's listening outside the door as we speak.” He raised his voice slightly for the last part of his sentence . “You’re not slick, you Pabo! I could smell you from down the hall!”
Your mouth was agape when you heard a shriek- that sounded suspiciously like Jisung- coming from the other side of the door and then the scuff of scurrying feet. “I didn’t even know he was there!” 
Jeongin hauled himself off the bed with a hearty laugh, “He’s been doing that since day one. He comes around periodically, most likely to check on you to make sure I hadn’t eaten you alive. The whole pack does it. You seriously couldn’t tell?” 
You shook your head as you slowly arose from your laid position, wincing when you felt the throb between your legs. “Uh uh, I didn’t notice at all.” 
“I guess I did have you a little… preoccupied.” He had a smirk on his face as if he was proud of himself. “My senses were in overdrive so it made it easier to smell and hear them. My alpha instincts were on a constant high alert.” 
You nodded, “That makes sense. I felt similarly when I was in heat.” You could still feel the pooling liquid seeping out of you, the now coolness of it was making you grimace. “Since your rut is ending, do you think we could please go take a bath? The last few rounds have left me kinda.. Sticky.” 
“Oh yeah!” He slipped off the bed and found a pair of shorts somewhere amongst the wreckage of his room. He put them on and returned back to your side. “Come on, baby. Lemme carry you.” You lifted your weak arms up to him as he bent to scoop you into his hold and you wrapped them around his neck. 
He walked out of his room freely for the first time in a few days. All the other times you had to make sure the coast was clear and that no other pack members were on the same floor. Innies possessiveness and alpha aggression when he was in a rut was on another level so the young alpha generally tried to avoid leaving the room during that time anyways. Thankfully it was not the same for you. During his moments of rest and clarity you had been able to exit the room for bathroom breaks and food. The pack members always greeted you with gentle kisses as they assessed you and you had to assure them you were ok. Innie was particularly rough in his fucking of you after you came back, though; the scent of the other boys on your skin driving him crazy. 
“Wait! Should I put something on? I’m still naked..” You trailed off, biting your lip. 
Jeongin chuckled, “It’s nothing most of them haven’t seen before at this point, baby. Plus we’ll get you some clean pjs after you're all cleaned up.” 
Jeongin carried you into the bathroom and set you on the counter while he went to start heating the water and filling the tub. You watched as he found a few different bottles of bubble bath, and giggled quietly when he opened each one and smelled it before he decided on one he deemed acceptable.
While the tub filled you turned to look at yourself in the mirror. You hadn’t seen your reflection since this morning so you were anticipating seeing the new marks that had been left. You gasped lightly when your eyes found all the dark marks and bites left on your body. Innie really did a number on you, he was unable to control many of his urges when it came to claiming your body. You poked and prodded at a particularly deep bite wound on the side of your left breast. 
‘That's gonna be sore for weeks.’ You thought as you poked. 
“I think that one is my favorite.” Jeongins voice startled you as he rested his head on your shoulder, looking into your eyes through the glass. He had a cheekiness in his tone. “Was my favorite place to bite you. So soft and tender.” He sighed wistfully, as if remembering the moment. 
“Yeah, tender enough that it’s going to take forever to heal.” You huffed, narrowing your eyes at him. 
He snorted, pulling back. “You’re one to talk. Look at this monster you gave me!” He tilted his head to show you his neck that he had asked you to bite into the previous day. His skin was marred and dark red, showing just how deep your teeth had buried into his flesh. “Stings like a bitch now. But it’s ok, I kinda like it.” He grinned and gave you a clumsy wink.  
You laughed and shoved him playfully, “Ok mister masochist, help me into the tub please.” He obliged your request and hauled you into his arms once more before he lowered you into the heated water. Your head fell back with a deep sigh as you relaxed into the tub. He has chosen a lavender scented soap that was divine. Innie stepped in and settled himself directly behind you. He then leaned your back against his chest, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. “Mm this is nice.” 
He hummed in return, leaning over to grab a washcloth. He dipped the cloth into the water then pulled it up, giving it a squeeze to release the water inside. The alpha lovingly ran the cloth over your neck and shoulders, wiping away the remaining blood and saliva. Then once your top half was wiped clean he brought the cloth back down into the heated water, then gently to your core. Your breath hitched when he made contact with your folds. “Shhh baby, I know it hurts. Lemme clean you up, ok?” He whispered reassuringly in your ear. 
You let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding, trying not to close your legs to keep him from touching you where you were most sensitive right now. He continued his slow and delicate ministrations while peppering kisses on your cheeks every time you let out a pained whimper. Eventually he finished his task, throwing the cloth onto the edge of the tub. Then he just let you rest in the still hot water.  
Sitting there in the tub was peaceful. Neither of you were talking anymore given how the fatigue was catching up to you both. It was nearing nightfall already, you could tell it was late evening by the setting sun casting in the small window. The lavender fragrance of the bath soap combined with the heat of the water was easing the tension in both of you. 
“Ya know, I haven’t had a bath in years.” Innie's voice startled you lightly, just as your eyes were about to droop. He laughed quietly when you jumped. “Sorry, baby. Just reminiscing, don't mind me.”
“Why haven’t you had a bath in so long? Do you not like them?” You asked, keeping yourself awake now. 
“I’ve never been a huge fan of sitting in hot water. Maybe my blood just runs hot. I also think it’s kinda boring. Just doing nothing in a tub. But right now I can honestly say I’m loving being here with you. I’m feeling very relaxed, and happy that I get to be with you.” He had a blush on his cheeks. 
“Aww Innie. You really are such a sweet boy.” Your heart swelled and you beamed at him. “ We can take baths together anytime you want.” You leaned up to kiss his jaw. 
“I’ll be taking you up on that offer, don’t you worry.” He kissed you back. 
“Can I cash in that offer too, baby?” 
You both looked up at the door being cracked open just slightly and a pouty face appearing, looking at you with hopeful eyes. 
“Hyunjin, what the fuck are you doing in here? Get out!” Jeongin groaned, annoyed now by the new presence. 
“No! It’s not fair! You’ve hogged her for days! I missed my baby!” The beta whined, his pout growing even bigger. “Plus you left the door unlocked so really this is your fault.” 
Jeongin scoffed, “You still got to see her everyday, your stink was all over her every time she came back to my room. And what about me?! Didn’t you miss me?!” He pulled you closer to his body, making the water slosh off the side of the tub.
“Of course I missed you, Innie. We all did.” Hyunjin replied with an eye roll. “But I’m not mated with you now am I? No, I’m claimed by my baby and now it’s my turn with her.” He skulked closer into the bathroom and grabbed the towel that was left on the counter. “So give her here.” He looked at the alpha expectantly as he held out his arms for you. 
Jeongin grumbled a whine, “Hyunnng you’re being so mean to me.” Still, he scooted you forward slightly so Hyunjin could grab you. Jeongin gave you a final kiss, “ I love you, I’ll see you in a while, baby.” He whispered to you before he handed you over to the beta. 
“Love you Innie.” You replied then let Hyunjin pull you from the tub and into his arms, where he promptly wrapped you in the big fluffy towel and whisked you out of the bathroom. 
Once you were out of the bathroom Hyunjin nuzzled into you with a purr as he carried you to your room. “Mm I missed you so much baby.” 
You giggled, his hair tickling your neck. “Missed you too Jinnie.” 
He set you gently on your bed as he ran the towel over your form, being mindful of the fresh bites and bruises. He bristled when you winced, “Sorry, love. Innie sure did a number on you, huh?” 
You gave a weak chuckle, “Yeah, he got a little rowdy. He always apologized afterwards so I don’t mind.” 
Hyunjin went into your wardrobe after he wiped you down and pulled out some pjs for you. He helped you dress even when you insisted on being able to do it yourself. “I wanna take care of you, baby. Let me help you.” You couldn’t deny him when he pouted like that, batting his eyelashes at you. 
He had put you in a tank top and panties, then he turned away to get you out some pj pants. That small distraction was all that was needed for the peeping tom at the door to spring in. Hyunjin screamed in surprise as Jisung swung the door open with a lightning quickness and launched for where you were seated on your bed. You yelped a laugh when he scooped you into his embrace. “Ahh Jisung! What are you doing?!” 
“Hi baby.” He grinned as he stood up now with you in his arms. He smooched you on the lips.He gave Hyunjin a glance “Sorry, gotta blast!” Then he sprinted out of the room, holding you.
“No! Jisung you asshole, I was having my time with her!” Hyunjin screeched as he chased the younger beta. Jisung was running down the hall towards the stairs cackling loudly. You were holding on for dear life, a nervous grin on your face. “Stop! I’m serious! It’s not fair!” 
“It’s my turn now! You had yours, I missed her too!” 
“I had a whole 6 minutes with her!” 
“Sucks to suck!”  Jisung had gotten down the stairs and had barely made it around the corner when he ran into another figure. Jisung nearly fell backwards at the impact. He ended up backing up into Hyunjin who had been right on his tail. 
Amidst the whole debacle, it was Changbin who grabbed you from Jisungs falling form. Jisung had run into him when he was coming to see what the commotion was. “What a pleasant surprise.” The alpha grinned. “Nice to see you, baby.” 
You giggled, letting him take you. “Hi Binnie.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. 
“Changbin! Give her back, it's my turn.” Jisung whined like a child when he was able to set himself upright again. 
Hyunjin pushed him with a scoff, folding his arms. “You stole her from me, asshat. It’s my turn.” 
“Sucks to suck, right guys?” Changbin snickered, then turned and walked down the hall. 
“Boys I’m not a toy! There are no turns.” You protested from your place in Chanbins arms. Your pout was light; you couldn’t be mad at any of them for this game of toss around. You had missed them all so much, even though you saw them all briefly during the last few days. 
“Of course you're not a toy, baby. These young boys need to learn some manners when it comes to a beautiful woman.” Changbin threw a playfully dirty look behind him at the betas who trailed behind. 
“Are you gonna be the one to teach them, Binnie?” You teased, nuzzling into him. 
He flexed with you still in his hold, boasting of his strength. “Who better than a strong alpha like myself?” You laughed into his neck. “Take notes, boys.” 
Changbin carried you all the way through the house and out the back door onto the back patio. The outside string lights were on, illuminating the patio as the sun continued to fall further from view and the night settled in.  The grill was on and there were various plates of vegetables scattered around the table next to it. The air was hot and mildly humid. Summer was definitely here now.
 Leaning on the banister next to the grill was Chan and Minho. Chan's face lit up at the sight of you coming out the door. Minho couldn’t hide the twitch of his lips when he saw you, his delight peaking through. 
“There's my love. Was wondering when you would come down and join us.” Chan approached you and Changbin as the latter plopped down on the outdoor sofa with you in his lap. Chan cupped your cheek and leaned in close to you, rubbing noses with you. He gave you a gentle kiss with a smile. Changbin huffed in mild jealousy, pulling you even closer. “Oh come on Bin, our girl deserves all the love we can give. Why be stingy, hm?” Chan hummed with a laugh as he pulled back.
“Exactly!” Jisung came crashing down onto the furniture beside you on the right, grabbing onto your arm attempting to pull you away. “You read my mind, oh wonderful leader.” 
Hyunjin was the next to speak up. “ You literally stole her from me! If anyone is stingy it’s you Ji!” He stomped his foot petulantly before coming over and sitting on the left side and grabbing one of your legs.
All this tugging was starting to make your wounds hurt, so you tentatively and quietly tried to interject, “Umm guys, can you please be easy on m-”  
“Jinnie, you went and took her right from Jeongin! Don’t act all high and mighty, I see through that shit!” Jisung cut you off, seemingly unable to hear your timid voice. He pulled on your arm a little harder. 
Changbin squeezed you to keep you in his hold, making you wince. “ You guys are children.” He rolled his eyes. 
Hyunjin scoffed, his grip accidentally digging into one of your darker bruises. “ You’re one to talk, you ripped her right from Ji.” 
“I saved her from you idiots!” 
You felt your eyes start to water from the pain and from being ignored. You felt too timid to interrupt them again so you just took it. Though, you didn’t have too for long. 
A deep growl halted all the boys in their actions. All of you swiveled your eyes to Chan who still stood a few feet away, now with a menacing look on his face. His eyes were narrowed at the three boys who held you captive. “That is enough from you three. Can’t you see your fucking hurting her?” He stalked closer and reached down for you. 
Immediately they all let go of you. Changbin spoke up, “ I’m so sorry baby, we should have been gentler on you.” 
“Especially since you just got done with Innie. I forgot about your wounds baby I’m sorry. Hyunjin apologized sheepishly. 
Jisungs lip wobbled as tears welled up in his own eyes. “M sorry, please don’t hate me.” 
“It’s ok, I’m not mad. And I could never hate you, Ji.” You wiped your tears once Chan had you secured in his arms. He still had a pissed off crease to his brows. You brought your thumb up to smooth over his brows, smiling when he kissed your palm. He carried you to the picnic table they had set up, placing you down on the bench. He straddled the bench and had you lean against him. 
“Mm much better, huh omega?” He hummed, kissing your head and holding you close. 
“Yes alpha.” You relaxed against him. You could hear his heartbeat from where you rested. It was calming. “ I’m gettin tired, Channie.” 
He chuckled, “I would be surprised if you weren’t tired, my love. You have been kept very busy lately. You gotta stay up for a while though, dinner is almost ready. The pack has been excited to share a meal together as a whole again.” You nodded, trying to keep yourself awake. 
Looking around you noticed how much food had already been laid out. There was a pile of kabobs, fresh veggies and a plate with some chicken. You looked up as Minho brought another plate full of done food and set it on the table in front of you. 
He gave you a teasing smile, “Hi baby. Welcome back.” 
You couldn’t hide your grin, reaching a cautious hand out to him, unsure if he would grab it. “Hi Min. Glad to be back.” Thankfully, he did. He held on to your hand for a second, running his thumb along the skin of your knuckles. Then he brought those same knuckles up to his lips, placing a kiss there. It was so soft you almost didn’t feel it. It only lasted a moment though, before he let you go and returned back to the grill.  
You let your hand drop with a sigh. Sometimes you wondered where you stood with Minho. One moment it seemed like he hated you, the next it was like he cared for you. Almost as if you were lovers. The back and forth from him was giving you whiplash to say the least. Chan was behind you, running his lithe fingers along your exposed thighs. “Hey now, no more thinking for tonight. Just relax, omega. I got you, Alphas got you.” 
You nodded and were going to reply when you were distracted by the sliding door flinging open. Felix stepped out holding a plate, Seungmin was right behind him also holding a big plate. “Ok this is the last of it!” Felixs eyes found yours quickly and he shoved the plate he held at Minho, who cursed him out for almost dropping it. He scurried over to you quickly, kneeling down to be beside you. “Y/n, baby. Are you ok?” He looked deep into your eyes, pressing his forehead against yours. 
“Mhmm, I’m fine Felix. Just really sleepy.” You shrugged sleepily, giving him a kiss. 
Seungmin sat down in front of you with a snicker. “Oh I bet you're really exhausted after what Innie did to you, huh baby? If the sounds that came outta his room was any indication.” He deepened the pitch of his tone, “ ‘Oh omega I’m gonna ruin you, I’m gonna breed you and make you mine.’” He imitated the youngest pack member, adding in fake growls. 
“Seungmin!” You pushed him away as he laughed, “Don’t be vulgar.” 
He leaned in real close with a smirk, “I thought you liked it when I talked dirty to you, puppy.” 
You stuttered, turning your face away from all the boys. “Well… I- um..” You felt your face heat up as you tried to come up with a witty response but fell on none. “ Well you're a jerk so, blah.” 
You felt Chan laugh from behind you, clearly he was amused at your turmoil. “You’re so cute, omega. So feisty.” 
“Don’t you start making fun of me too!” You craned your neck back to see him biting his lip to hold back his chuckles. “You’re supposed to be on my side!” 
He held one hand up in defense, “ I am on your side, baby. But I also know he’s telling the truth, so why fight it.” 
You huffed, crossing your arms but wincing when you accidentally brushed against the deep bite on your breast. Felix was the one to notice your discomfort. “What’s wrong? Are you hurting?” 
You rubbed the spot that was sore, “It’s nothing, just a leftover battle wound from helping Innie.” 
Seungmin was still sat in front of you and he had zero hesitation before he reached for the bottom of your shirt and yanked it up to expose your chest to him. 
You gasped, trying to pull it back down, “Minnie! What the fuck?!” 
He smacked your hand away as he tried to locate the area that was bothering you. “Oh stop, we’ve seen you naked before there's no sense in being shy. Let me see what’s bothering you.” 
Chan soothed you by pumping out calming pheromones and rubbing your back. He wanted to see the damage himself anyways. 
You slowly felt yourself calm down, giving in to the boys around you and dropping your arms. “Thata girl.” Your alpha praised you with a kiss on the back of your head. You had calmed down so much in fact that you hadn’t even noticed your outburst has caused every member present to stare at the scene unfolding, each of them eyeing your now exposed breasts. Chan continued to pour praises and sweet words into your ears as the beta in front of you got to work inspecting.
Seungmin held your shirt up with one hand, while the other was prodding around at your fresh bites and marks. His gaze was searing into you in a scrutinizing way, as if he was meticulously counting each and every tooth mark and finger print that lingered on your body. He clicked his tongue when he saw just how deep some of these bites went, “Jesus, pup. You got fucked up didn’t you? Poor thing.” He had a sympathetic tone to his voice.
When his nails accidentally dug into the wound on your breast you winced and squirmed. Felix - who was still beside you- ran his hands comfortingly along your exposed thighs. “You’re ok, lovely.” He reassured you the best he could, but if he was being honest with himself; seeing you sitting here almost naked, just in your frilly pink panties, was making him drool. He risked a glance over at the other boys and could see the same thing for them. 
Jisung and Changbin both had their hands in their lap, as if trying to conceal their erections. Hyunjin had a proud smirk on his face (he had picked her panties out, afterall) as he bit his lip. The only one not ogling the omega was Minho, who had his back turned to the scene but Felix could see the tight grip the elder beta kept on the spatula. 
Chan and Seungmin had total concentration on your body, both looking you over for the particularly painful ones. Everyone was so invested in you that no one heard the door slide open again until the youngest alphas' voice startled them. 
“What the fuck are you guys doing?” Jeongin had stepped out to join the pack, his hair was still wet from the bath and he was barefoot. “Is this some kind of weird orgy?” 
Seungmin let your shirt fall back onto your torso with a scoff, “You wish, you sick pervert. We were examining all the marks you left on her.” 
Jeongin rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “Ha uhh yeah, I got a little carried away.” He came to your side, pushing Felix out of the way. The beta responded with a quick ‘Watch it, asshole!’ before he moved out of the way and went to sit at the table. Jeongin crouched down beside you and took your hand, “How are you feeling, baby? Still feelin sore?” 
You nodded, “Uh huh. ’m also really worn out. I need a nap.” 
Chan cooed at you from behind you, “My poor girl, you have to eat a full meal first. We gotta get you to heal up.” 
“Good thing it’s all ready now then.” Minho brought the last big platter of grilled meats and veggies to the table. He set a plate down in front of you and began to serve you your food first. He gave you a little of everything. “Here you go, be careful it's hot.” 
“Thank you Min.” You grinned appreciatively. He nodded in return, setting a lemonade down in front of you as well. 
“Come and get your food, ya filthy animals.” Minho called to the other pack mates who weren’t yet around the table. For that comment he received a few middle fingers (that he just laughed off evilly). 
After everyone was sat and served, it really dawned on you how much you enjoyed this life. The teasing and comradery was something that was still taking you some time to get used to, but it felt more like home each and everyday. While you ate Chan kept one arm around your back, keeping you close to him while he ate with the other hand. Seungmin was to your left, keeping his hand on your thigh under the table. Changbin was seated across from you playing footsie with you under the table. 
It seemed they all had their own ways of wanting to be close to you. The realization made a wide grin appear on your face. 
“What's got you so happy over there, sweet girl?” Felix brought you down out of your own little world. 
“Nothing,” You replied, crinkling your eyes at him. “Just thinking about how happy I am here with you all and how much I love you. ” 
The silence after your statement was deafening. There was a beat where no one said anything, and for a split second you felt your heart drop into your stomach. A creeping feeling of doubt began to wash over you, but it was quickly erased by the  loud chorus of “AWWWWW”s that flooded out of each boy. Suddenly you were swarmed by the pack, ending up in the middle of a huge pile of man. The sudden overwhelm of all their scents was beginning to make you dizzy. 
“You’re so cute, omega.” Chan had a cheekiness to his tone as he giggled in your ear from behind. 
You felt a wetness falling onto your chest, the drops seeping in through the shirt you wore. And then you heard the sniffles. “Ji… Please don’t cry. You’re gonna make me start crying.” You could already sense the tears welling up on your lash line, threatening to fall at any moment. 
“I can’t help it.” He wailed, burying himself into your shirt even further. “You make me- us- so happy, baby. Plus it’s not just me crying! Look at Lix and Hyun, they're crying too!” 
Now that he mentioned it you could faintly hear the little hiccups and sniffs from beside you. 
“Don't bring us up when you know we’re emotional, you dick head!” Hyunjin shrieked, pulling Jisung away so he could now hold you closer. 
“Alright guys, let’s get off of our baby. She’s still sore, ya know.” Chan was casual with his demand, being the first to pull back from you. 
“Yeah thanks to Jeongin.” Seungmin snickered and eyed the youngest Alpha. 
Jeongin cast his gaze down quickly, riddled with sudden nerves, then looked back at you with an apologetic crinkle of his eyes. “Sorry again, omega.” 
You reached your hand out to him to take, “Innie you don’t need to apologize to me anymore, or at all. I took care of you like a good omega does for her alpha. Plus, I had a lot of fun with you. You made me feel… really good.  ” You beamed at him to show you meant every word. 
He grabbed your hand, ignoring the hollering that erupted from the rest of the teasing pack. He sent you a wink before he leaned in to give you a peck on the lips. 
“Our little boy is a man now!” Changbin laughed loudly as he gave Innie a hard pat on the back. 
“Hyung, I’ve always been a man. At least more of a man than you.” Jeongin dodged the smack that was sent his way from Changbin, cackling with amusement at the elder alpha’s displeased huff. 
“You wish you were half as man as I am!” Changbin tried to puff out his chest to give a more dominant display, but all it did was make everyone laugh louder. 
“And you wish you were half the man that Channie Hyung is.” Felix added to the banter, looking to get a rise out of Bin. 
Changbins chest deflated as he pondered the statement. Then he shrugged in agreement, “Yeah pretty much.” 
“Ok ok, If we’re done eating we should clean this up. All this food left out will attract bugs.” Chan stood from his place, grabbing both his and your plates in his hands. He smooched your cheek as he stood, “sit tight love.” 
“I want to help!” You protested, eager to help the pack with even the simplest tasks. 
“You are helping. You’re sitting there looking pretty for us.” Minho patted your head as he passed you, carrying a large platter back into the house. 
You felt your cheeks heat up, turning away from him so he didn’t see the pleased look on your face. 
It was a few minutes later that the whole table was cleared and cleaned up. Chan came back for you and held out his arms for you. You lifted yours so he could grab you into his hold. “Let’s get you to bed, omega. I know how tired you must be especially now that you’d have a full meal.” 
Now that he mentions it you were starting to feel that fatigue from earlier. You covered your yawn with your hand, then nodded in agreement. “Yeah I think I’m ready for bed, Alpha.” 
He passed by the kitchen so you could say your good nights to the other boys. “Goodnight guys. I’ll see you in the morning.” You offered them a lazy smile. 
“Damn, is it that time already? I feel like I haven’t gotten to see you at all.” Jisung pouted, coming in to kiss you. 
“I know I’m sorry, ‘m just really tired.” You were starting to feel guilty about needing to sleep. ‘He’s right, they have barely seen me. Maybe I should just stay up for a while.’ 
There was a sudden twinge of sourness that was leaving your body, your contrition coming through clearly for all to smell.  
Jisung was speedy to backpedal his words, “No, it’s totally ok! You should definitely get your rest!” His boba eyes were wide and his hands were raised in a defensive way. “In fact,” He deepened his voice to act intimidating, “It is my command that you get some good rest, asap.” 
Chan snorted a laugh and there were a few scoffs and chuckles from the other boys. You had hid your smile behind your hand, you couldn’t help but feel amused at his phony display of dominance. “As you command, master.” 
Jisung visibly gulped at the name, but his reaction was nothing compared to the reaction Minho was having, the beta practically choking on his spit. He attempted to cover it up by pretending he accidentally ran into the counter when he received a side eye from Hyunjin. Minho's mind went racing at your comment, liking the way the title sounded on your lips. 
“Say goodnight to Baby, I’m taking her to bed now.” Chan brought you to each of them so they could all give you small kisses and wish you goodnight. Then he swiftly carried you up the stairs and to his bed. You will never get over how strong he is, carrying you like you weigh no more than a teddy bear.  
He set you down and covered you in the blankets. He then climbed in next to you and cradled you in his arms. You purred affectionately as you nuzzled into him. You felt instantly soothed at being back in his embrace, in the bed you share together. The alpha felt the exact same way. He was more than thrilled to have you back with him. One day he could handle, but the three days were borderline torturous. 
“Channie..” You whispered, your voice quiet as it cut through the silence within the darkness. 
“Mhm” He answered, his own eyes beginning to droop. He hadn’t slept much the last few nights, too anxious to get any real rest. 
“I love you.” 
“Mm, I love you more.” 
The both of you were out like a light.
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Minho's mind has been stewing for a few days. Ever since he met Changbins new friend, Wooyoung, something hadn’t felt right. It felt like he was missing something. 
He remembers the encounter very clearly. The beta man had been friendly, almost too friendly. And very personable. He had answered each of Minhos questions, none of which seemed to raise any alarms. 
‘Where are you from?’ ‘Goyang, it’s a city up north.’ 
‘What brings you to town?’ ‘Here to help out my uncle.’ 
‘Whos your uncle?’ ‘Park Jin-young.’ 
‘Are you mated to an alpha?’ ‘Yes, his name is San. We've been mated for a few years.’ 
‘Where is he at?’ ‘He’s back at home, taking care of the cats.’
All of his answers seemed to check out. Though to Minho, the answers did seem a little too clean. There was just something that was off. Something he couldn’t quite place a finger on. He knew he would have to be diligent going forward. He didn’t want to say anything to anyone about it yet, in fear of being completely wrong. But he would hold this thought close to his chest. 
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Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!
Also if any one wants to chat about the story or share predictions please send me an ask!!
Beta read by my loves @ayejaii and @jehhskz <3
©doitforbangchan
Taglist- Closed
@chxnb97 / @butterflydemons / @zaggprincess2 / @stellasays45 / @uhhheather / @walnutspie /  @a-mistake-tbh / @meowmeeps / @realrintaro / @ihrtlix / @raehawthorne / @juskz / @freckleboilix / @marvelsmarauder / @0325tiny / @iyeeeverydee / @stars-garden / @boi-bi-ahaha / @gini143 / @queenmea604 /  @palindrome969 / @f9clementine / @theysaidhush / @kpophosblog / @usercaiskz / @honeym0chi / @nobody3210 / @changbinswife10789  @5starluvr / @neyangi / @jiminssluttyminx / @ayejaii / @iknowleeknow/ @jeonginnieswifey / @catlove83 / @upsidedownchaire / @emmxxsworld / @manuosorioh / @igetcarriedawaywithyou / @blondechannie / @woozixo / @ilovejeongin007/ @yaorzu-blog / @theydy-madamonsieur / @jehhskz / @feybin / @rylea08 / @sebastianswhore13 / @kihyuns-military-wife / /@lilyuwon @xx3rachaslutxx / @hahhahahjakakla / @skzstaykatsy / @zerefdragn33l / @yuhhhhh-slay / @im-sinking-in-mud / @n0y4 / @writhingwrecked / @silentreadersthings / @softkisshyunjin
the bolded names couldn’t be found for some reason 🥲🥲 sorry y’all
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heartless-tate · 12 hours
Text
Just Friends? | Dark Azriel X Freader
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Summary: You and Azriel are just friends. Who fuck. Or at least that’s how you see it. So what happens when you find out Azriel sees it completely different?. 🧁 | 2.6k words
A/N: I was feeling spicy today for some dark azzie boo bear. FYI, if you’d like this rewritten with a male reader, please ask!
WARNINGS: NSFW content, p in v?, oral F receiving, choking, murder(not reader), torture(not reader), shadow play, slight angst in beginning, fingering, slight degradation, slight manipulation, reader with she/her pronouns. with a pussy. THIS IS YANDERE CONTENT. ITS DARK AND POSSESSIVE.
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The apartment is eerily silent. It’s dark, and shadows seem to liter every surface tonight. The stench of mold and something rotten doesn’t overwhelm your senses much anymore. Living here on this side of Velaris, you think you’re use to it. You didn’t bother turning the lights on. They always left a weird dim and yellow setting. The moonlight rays from the windows were enough light for now.
You stood in the cramped kitchen, in front of the oven. You stared at the cupcakes baking inside. Then at the clock; 3:04 am. You hadn’t been able to sleep and why not bake cupcakes? The inner circle would certainly enjoy them tomorrow. Not to mention it’d give you an excuse to question Rhysand of Azriel’s whereabouts. He always stops by your place at least once every three days. Or around that. It had been a week. You were lonely. And sexually frustrated. It was hard to get off without his long scarred fingers pressing into your skin, holding you close like he might lose you, and his cock pumping into you teasingly slow. Nothing compared to the feeling of it. Of him.
Going from fucking everyday, on almost any surface, to nothing within a week was driving you crazy. You needed it. You needed him. And not just sexually. But he couldn’t find that out. You wonder if you shouldn’t have had sex with him that night. Started whatever this mess was. Friends? Or what was it books called it?
Friends with benefits. You two spent the day time as friends, hanging out, talking, and at night you fucked like rabbits during the mating season. Or any time of the day really. You have had a crush on Azriel ever since you met him. How could you not? He was kind. Different. Quiet. And you both hit it off so easily when Rhysand introduced you to the inner circle. it seemed like he was always there. And if he wasn’t, his shadows were. Sure, you don’t have him as yours. But he was your friend. Your best friend. And that was enough. Or at least you tried to convince yourself that.
And so when he came back from a mission, sweaty and heated up from anger- you couldn’t help but relax and let him take control. You had had a stressful day too. Why not? Why not let your hot bestfriend fuck you senseless? That’s where the downfall was. You were just pity fuck or a way to blow off some steam for him. You see the way he’s always talking to Elain. You satisfied him for now. So you would happily reduce yourself to what felt like a sex toy, waiting for him in your shitty apartment in hopes maybe one day he would return your feelings. And more then ever you hated that you missed him, and not just the sex. You didn’t even have a clue to what day it was.
You approached the calendar on the wall and peered at it. He said he’d be back today. Or yesterday- since it’s 3:06 am now. He lied. Maybe he had found another woman. Jealousy swirled inside of you, ever growing like an invasive species. You slumped back down beside the oven. This was depressing. You felt like some lonely sad and depressed wife waiting for her husband to come home. Except he wasn’t your husband. And this wasn’t his home. And one day he’ll find another woman and you’ll be nothing but a faint memory in his mind.
A shadow scurried to you, dancing excitedly, others surrounded and curiously observed you. You watched as they scattered around your body as if searching for any harm. You paused- his shadows were back. Which meant he was back. And near. The shadow dancing in your face swirled and gently brushed against your cheek as if consoling you. As if it knew you were sad. You heard the door open to your apartment. You stood running to the living room watching as Azriel entered your apartment. He looked so out of place here. He slightly reeked of blood. As if he hadn’t washed it off yet and had just used magic to hide it for now. His hair was tussled and his eyes were oddly alert at this hour. He smirked at seeing you standing so excitedly. More shadows rushed to join the ones dancing around you, as if celebrating you.
You were so happy to see him again! But he was late. And probably was with another woman. You frowned and stepped back slightly.
“Where were you?”You questioned, crossing your arms. The shadows slowed to a lazy swirl. His wings tucked in slightly. He approached.
“Does it matter love? I’m here now.” He whispered cunningly, pulling you in by your hips. His fingers quickly moved underneath the baggy T-shirt of his you were wearing to grip at the flesh of your hips. He smiled at you broadly as if just noticing you were only wearing his shirt and panties. Your eyebrows furrowed. He could scent your arousal.
“I thought we didn’t keep secrets from each other.” You snuffed out. His wings tucked in further, his eyes flashing with darkness for a slight second.
“Do not question me.” He whispered softly. Azriel pulled you in closely nuzzling his cheek against your hair. He flinched when you jerked away angrily. He watched as you started back to the kitchen.
“Fine. It’s whatever. After all we’re just-“
“Don’t you fucking dare say friends, Y/n.” He snarled loudly. A sharp contrast from his before behavior. Before you could respond he was pulling you back, your back hitting his chest. It was like he snapped. His arms wrapped tightly around your center, holding you still as his wings surrounded you both.
“The only reason I’ve been putting up with your fucking friends with benefits bullshit is to give you time to adjust.” Azriel said, hands roaming. It became difficult to focus.
“What? What is that suppose to mean Azriel?”
His hand found it’s way to your clothed cunt, feeling the wet spot on your panties. He snickered. Of course you were turned on. His hard chest pressed into you and you could feel his erection firmly prodding against your back. The size difference between you two was almost unbelievable. You had been turned on since you got lost in thought of him earlier. Since that wet dream you had. You mewled softly as two tendrils of his shadows slither their way under your shirt and rub against your perked nipples. Azriel smirked and kissed your neck slowly. He moved your panties to the side and dipped his finger into your gushing cunt, enjoying the sounds it made. And the ones you made.
You couldn’t help the moans that escaped in response. It felt like you were on fire. Azriel was always capable of reducing you to a moaning incoherent mess within seconds. His long scarred fingers started pumping in and out of you, pressing into the one spot that made you cry out. His other hand grasped your throat and forced your head up to face him. His amber eyes were dark and piercing, a feral look on his face. It was terrifying, and yet you felt your body react differently then your mind did.
“What it means is, this pussy is fucking mine. This body. This mind. You’re fucking mine. You’ve been mine since the day we met. My beautiful foolish mate. I waited for the bond to snap for you, but it hasn’t yet. So when we started fucking, I assumed it would snap for you soon. And I could give you time to grow use to me, to having a lover and someone who cares for you. I know nobody has cared for you in a long while, sweet little thing. I knew you would need time to adjust. But it seems maybe you got the wrong idea. We’re not just friends. We’re mates. You belong to me. I belong to you. There will never be anyone else for us. Just me and you.. for eternity.” He whispered possessively in your ear. His feral smile only seemed to grow, making your own fear- but also pleasure grow? His thumb rubbed at your clit at a breathtaking speed, eyes sharp as they watched you squirm. He refused to let go of you though. Holding you close. You couldn’t process his words clearly. Everything felt too good. Too right. Like you belonged there- in his arms.
“W-wait az-“ you whimpered out trying to jerk your hips from the overwhelming heat building in your core. Azriel didn’t relent, shoving a third finger in you, dragging it slowly against your walls. He started pumping them in, every-time he hit the spot he knew that would make you dumb. The spot he knew would make you cock drunk when he angled his dick to press into it every-time he pumped into you. The shadows twirled and pinched at your nipples, creating a mix of pain and pleasure. They knew you enjoyed it. Azriel knew you did with the way your soaking cunt spasmed. You were close. He could see it in the way your body went limp against him. His hand grasped at your throat more aggressively- cutting off some of your air. His eyes were narrowed as he forced you to look at him. He knew you were close by the foggy and dumb look you gave him.
“Cum on my fingers princess. Make a mess.” Azriel purred sweetly, pressing his hard on into your back for some friction. He smirked knowingly when you cried out silently, hands clawing at his arm that was wrapped around neck. He felt the way your walls tightened, clenching around his fingers and he felt wetness leak around them. He released your throat, letting air back in. You gasped for air desperately. Your cunt was gushing around his fingers, a mixture of wetness and cum dripping drown his scarred hands. You clenched around nothing at the sight as he pulled them away.
“Atta girl. Look at you, making a mess of me hands. Clean it up hun.” He cooed, raising his fingers to your mouth. You obediently opened your mouth, allowing his fingers to be shoved into your mouth. You sucked them, tasting yourself. He groaned at the sight, pressing his erection against you again. Shadows suddenly swarmed around you both, and all of a sudden you were inside of Azriel’s house. Well- one of them. He had a penthouse, and a secluded cabin-house? It was deep in the forest and and secluded with the sense of a cabin but much more bigger and fancier. It had a modern look to it. He kept it secret, as it was a hide away for himself, but he always brought you to it.
He pushed you against his bed, mounting you like a feral animal. Both of your clothes disappeared- except for the shirt of his you had on. It stayed. His shadows swirled around you two. His erection prodded your ass.
Azriel seemed much more animalistic now, as he rutted his erection agaisnt you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he lifted you to him. He pulled you into a long, wet, and sloppy kiss. He nipped your lips until swollen and slightly bloody. And you returned it, happily, forgetting everything else. For now. He pulled away when you tapped his arm, needing air. He stared as you regained your breath.
“You wanna know where I was?” He asked, using his knee to knock your legs wider. His hand reached in between yours, feeling your wetness. He ears twitched at the sound of your soft gasp.
“Y-yes” You stuttered out, rutting into his hand.
“I was hunting down that pathetic excuse of your landlord. After you told me about how he threatened to touch you to make up for your lack of money and the missed payments, I went and found the fucker. I had to go on a mission Rhys sent me on, but I told him to count his days. When I got back, I found him and fucking destroyed that piece of shit.” Azriel growled proudly, taking in the scent of your fear and confusion. “He screamed like a little baby, louder then any other girl I’ve tortured before. I made it hurt. Nobody gets to fucking talk or touch my girl like that. Nobody.” He huffed out, chest puffed up with pride.
Azriel grunted when you shoved him away and scrambled to the headboard. His head titled with confusion. He scented your fear and his ears picked up the sound of your heart beat.
Azriel killed someone. You realized. He killed your landlord. It was hard to wrap your head around it. You knew he wasn’t innocent but the Azriel you knew was soft and kind. Not- not this. He killed someone. For you. Someone died. Because of you. Dread filled your bones. He crawled forward. Straddling your hips before you could move. His naked body in all it’s glory.
“Oh sweet thing, don’t be scared. I would never, ever, harm you. Don’t be afraid of me. I was just protecting you. And your landlord wasn’t just threatening you. He was doing it to other females. It’s okay, princess. He was just getting his deserved consequences. Can you imagine how many woman I could’ve possibly saved from his harm tonight? Don’t be scared of me. You’re safe.” Azriel purred out, wings flared. His cock rested on your stomach. You couldn’t help but relax as his scarred hands slowly spread your thighs. He’s right. Azriel’s always right. Someone could’ve been hurt if it wasn’t for him. He was doing you, and other women a favor. There was no reason you shouldn’t just relax and enjoy this. Him.
He smirked, hooking your legs upon his shoulder. Azriel, rubbed gentle circles in your thigh. He admired your pretty cunt. And then you. In his shirt. Smothered in his scent- inside and outside. In his bed. In his house. Where no one could disturb you. Pussy on display for him. And just him. He moved his hips down before nose diving into your pussy, scenting you. You smelled and tasted divine and your cute yelps and squirms of shock only spurred him on as he lapped at your gushing cunt for more. You tasted divine. Better then he could imagine. His hands held tight, nails leaving crescent moon shapes in the soft flesh of your thighs. Azriel couldn’t help but groan and whimper loudly at your taste. Tongue lapping and lapping like a starved man.
“Azzie!” You squeaked out, hands clutching at his hair, hips rutting into his face. His eyes were stuck on you, staring you down like a lion who had finally caught its favorite mouse. He groaned before pulling away, your wetness dripping down his face. He held eye contact as he licked around his mouth, enjoying your flavor. He grabbed the base of his cock and slapped it against your swollen clit, watching as you squirmed and yelped, sensitive. You were so adorable. His shadows slithered around your body before multiple restrained your limbs down. Leaving you helpless and vulnerable to him.
You relaxed. Azriel would never hurt you. He’s always been there for you. And thsi si waht you wanted- him. And even better- he was your mate. Yours. And you were his. Who cares if he brutally killed your landlord? He was just doing his job as your mate. Protecting you. And plus, you have an excuse to move in with him. You had a feeling you wouldn’t be living thsi bed for a long, long, time. And as he slowly lined his fat cock with your soaking cunt, you couldn’t help but remember one thing. Your fucking cupcakes.
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velocesainz · 2 days
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Hi, can you do an angsty fic inspired by “I gotta go my own way” from HSM2. If can either be Charles or Lando or Charlando and they fuck up or something and reader leaves them? Maybe hurt/no comfort? It’s okay if you don’t want to
A/n: this was a very interesting request and it took me quite a while to really get the plot line. Hope you enjoy!
One heart broke six hands bloody
F1 masterlist | Main masterlist | Taglist
Summary: Charles and Lando are in a relationship with reader and they slowly stop paying attention to her and missing important events. The last straw is when they miss your birthday.
Warnings: sad, angstyy, hurt
Pairing: Charles x Lando x reader
Reader pov:
It had been nearly five months since they started acting distant to me.
I don’t know why.
We were so good all together
It was like we completed each other
But recently they’ve really started to distance themselves and ignore me.
Constantly say they have meetings and leave home when I know they don’t drive I’m in contact with their teammates
Were they both cheating on me?
I woke up in our shared bed with nobody by my side.
I went on about my day realising they both had left for some sort of meeting with their respective teams
They returned home late at night completely wasted
“Where were you two? I’ve been worried sick! I called you both so many times, why didn’t you guys pick up?” I questioned
“Oh shut up mom.” Was all Lando said before they both left to go to bed
The next day was one I would usually be excited for but maybe not this year
My birthday
I would usually celebrate it with my two boyfriends but they seem to not want to spend time with me at all
I walked into the kitchen to see them scrolling on Charles’s giggling and whispering to Lando about something. They would do that with me too but I guess not anymore.
“Hey guys, what’s for breakfast?” I asked them seeing they had made their breakfast already
“Oh..we didn’t make you any. We thought you would do it yourself” Charles said
I sighed and went upstairs to get ready, my appetite knocked out by his words
I got dressed and left the house watching them not care
I hung out around Monaco since I had no friends here, just Charles and Lando
It started raining and I was freezing on my way back to our apartment. As I walked in I found them on their game not bothering to focus on anything but that and each other
“Hey I’m back” I announced as best as I could in my feverish voice due to the intense shivering
“Yea yea whatever just make us dinner” Lando said
What is up with them?
“You can do that yourself. In fact you guys should have done it for me at least today of all days”
They looked at me and asked “What are you talking about?”
I give up on these two
“It was my birthday today and you guys didn’t even bother to wish me or spend time with me. You both have been so secretive and distant from and it feels like you have fallen out of love. I’m leaving. I’m not dealing with this shit any longer”
I walked up to my bedroom and started packing the essentials
Charles pov
How did we not realise we were hurting our dearest so much?
We were ignoring her as we were going to propose to her and knew Lando wouldn’t keep his mouth shut if he started talking
We were so stressed about getting the perfect rings that we completely neglected y/n
Me and Lando looked at each other and chased after her to the bedroom to see her packing her things
“Cheri please don’t leave us we apologise for our horrible behaviour” I begged
“We were working on something very important and in that stress we completely neglected we’re extremely sorry” Lando said
“I don’t care for your explanations. My state of mind has not been good thanks to you two and I refuse to worsen it. I’m leaving and that’s final” she said
All our hearts were breaking as she said this. We ruined a beautiful relationship because we cared about materialistic things over our actual love for each other.
Now there was nothing we could do anymore.
She packed her bags and left the apartment telling us not to follow her and we’d broken her heart enough I’m sure she wouldn’t want to listen to us anymore.
One heart broke and left six hands bloody.
A/n: I’m sorry I took super long to finish this request. Hope you enjoyed and make sure to leave feedback! Kissies ✨
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@grantaires-waistcoat
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bunnliix · 3 days
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You Taste Divine - Seonghwa x reader
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This is a part two to an ask from the wonderful @shinestarhwaa that you can find here!
Pairing: Seonghwa x reader Summary: After avoiding Seonghwa for a week after what happened in the last car ride, he finally manages to get you alone with him. Well, mostly alone. wc: 1.8k AU: n/a Genre: SMUT Nets: @newworldnet warnings:SMUT MDNI, no actual penetration but lots and lots of dirty talk, degradation, praise kink, pet names, technically exhibitionism?, it's in a car, possessive Hwa, use of the word cunt, slight threats, I think that's it??
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After that incident in the car, you avoided Seonghwa for the next week, feeling embarrassed that you had woken him up, but also your brain now wouldn’t stop thinking about wishing he did more than just taste you off of his fingers. You knew the eldest member noticed your actions, and let it go for now, he’d get you where he wanted you eventually.
“Are you ready to go?” Hongjoong asked you, peeking into your room.
“I just have to grab one more thing and I’m ready!” You shouted from the bathroom attached to the room.
“Be quick about it, the cars are here.” He reminded you before walking away, you could hear his footsteps get quieter as he left.
You quickly grabbed the few things you were missing and stuffed them in your bag, heading out of the apartment, seemingly the last person to do so. You locked the door before making your way down to the car. You found, to your slight dismay, that the only seat left open was next to Seonghwa in the back. It would be different than the last time, since there was only room for the two of you. You’d be left alone with him and you took a breath in before hopping in the car and sitting next to the black-haired man.
“You can’t avoid me anymore.” Seonghwa comments, voice low enough so that you’re the only one to hear his words.
“Yeosang, how long until we reach our destination?” You asked the blonde who sat up at the front of the car.
“An hour.” He responded, before going back to scrolling on his phone.
You groaned, realizing you’d have to sit next to Hwa for the next hour, or more if traffic was a problem.
“What’s got you so frustrated darling? It couldn’t be me, could it?” Seonghwa said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as he leaned in closer to you.
You shivered at his touch, making him smirk. He knew from your fleeting glances in the week that’s passed, ones that you didn’t think he saw, that you enjoyed last week’s tease immensely. You clung to Wooyoung and the others constantly since then, trying as best you could to avoid him, which was cute that you thought you could continue doing that. All it took was telling the others that he missed having you to himself, having missed out on his talks with you about Legos for them to let you sit with him today. You being the last one in the car wasn’t the plan, but it worked out for the best.
“It’s nothing.” You replied after a moment of silence.
“Are you sure about that angel?” He questioned further, his mouth inches away from your ear at this point.
You shivered and squirmed as he got closer, trying to pull away, but his grip on your tightened, not allowing you to.
“Ah ah ah, you don’t want to make the others think anything is wrong, now do you? You really want to explain that your slutty brain has been working so hard this week, plaguing you with thoughts of me? Then you’d have to explain exactly what happened in the car last week. Do you want to explain how much of a little slut you were? How you let Wooyoung play with you to his heart’s content, how you did it all without Sannie or Jongho noticing?” He whispered in your ear, his voice velvety soft but with an air of danger to it.
You shook your head, feeling your cheeks heat up as he talked. Fuck, he noticed. You didn’t think he did, but you were so fucking wrong. The idea of having to tell the others why you were trying to avoid their fellow member was hot but also terrifying, so you stopped your struggle to get away from him.
“Aww, cute. You’ve decided to give up your fight? I want to hear you tell me that you’ve given into me.” His voice was so soft, you almost felt lulled into a feeling of safety. A feeling that you’d be taken care of if you just gave in and did what he wanted.
“I’m not going to fight you anymore.” You spoke, your voice barely more than a whisper, and it made Seonghwa chuckle into your ear.
“Such a cute obedient bunny I have here.” He praised you as his arm that was wrapped around you moved to hold the back of your neck and you had to suppress a whimper at the placement of his hand.
His other hand made its way to your thigh, and either luckily or unluckily for you, you once again wore a skirt. So his hand landed on your bare thigh, and you bit your lip to stop any noise from tumbling out. In response to you holding in any noises, he squeezed your thigh, forcing you to bring a hand up to your mouth to stifle any noise for a second time. His hand leaves your thigh, grabbing the wrist of the hand that covered your mouth, pulling it away from your face.
“We’re not doing that baby, you’re just going to have to do your best to stay quiet for me, hmm?” He said, his tone saying he wouldn’t tolerate you trying that again.
You nodded, looking down at your lap since you couldn’t find it in you to look up at him or anywhere else. He let your arm drop to your side, his hand sliding down your side to your thigh once again, only this time, he pulled it closer to him. You thought he was going to slip his hand under your skirt like Wooyoung had done a week ago, but his hand stayed firmly on your thigh, only moving slightly higher up, like the idol was teasing you.
“Aww, you thought I was going to be like Wooyoung and fuck you here in the car, hmm?” He whispered in your ear, “I’m not like him. I’m patient, so instead how about we spend the car ride just like this.” He said to you, his hand moving to place itself on your inner thigh, with a strong enough grip that let you know you wouldn’t be closing your legs anytime soon.
“It’d be so fun to let the others go on ahead and stay here in the car by ourselves for a little while. I’d sit you on my lap and have you spread your legs for me, my hands roaming your pretty body. Teasing you by letting my hands wander, getting so close to where you want them, before pulling away. Making you so desperate that you whine and beg and plead for me to finally touch you. Once you’re on the brink of tears from it all, then I’ll touch you. But only feather light touches. You’d have to beg me if you wanted more than that. I’m sure a good girl like you would beg me so prettily for more. Am I right, bunny?” 
You could only nod your head, fearing that if you opened your mouth to answer him, you wouldn’t be able to say anything coherent, your head becoming a muddled mess at the sound of his words. You couldn’t believe what he was saying to you, you hadn’t expected this, but you also hadn’t expected him to do what he had done last week either. Seonghwa was defying your expectations and you didn’t know what to do about it.
“Have just a few pretty words made your head go all fuzzy? Do I have that much of an effect on you?” He asked, knowing what the answer was, he just wanted to tease you more. Wooyoung wouldn’t be happy, but he should have made sure to sit in the car with you this time. Besides, you're his darling now, not Wooyoung’s, the younger member would have to realize that.
You were only able to nod in response, still unable to get your thoughts in order enough to speak. All you could think of was Seonghwa. If he kept speaking to you the way he was, you’d let him do anything. He continued whispering in your ear, planting thoughts of you and him in your head, telling you every little thing he’d love to do to you. Everything he’s wanted to do for years.
You kept trying to close your legs, needing the friction, his firm grip on your thigh prevented you from doing so. You almost whined when he wouldn’t let you get some release, a threat being whispered in your ear after you tried moving your hands underneath your skirt.
“If you touch your pretty little cunt, I’ll make sure you’ll regret it.”
You wisely kept your hands away from your pussy, not wanting to incur the wrath of the man next to you more than you needed to. Oh how you wished you had managed to sit next to Wooyoung this time around, it would be better than sitting here with Seonghwa. You’d at least get something out of it, rather than have to sit here and feel your head get fuzzier and fuzzier after each word he whispered into your ear.
You didn’t even realize you had arrived at your destination until Seonghwa let go of your thigh, letting you bring your legs back together. You looked at him confused, until he smirked at you.
“Darling, we’ve arrived. We have to get out of the car now. They’re all waiting for us.” He told you.
You tried your best to get out of the car, having difficulty because your mind isn’t in the present at the moment, still focused on Hwa’s explicit whispers in your ear. You almost trip getting out of the car, thankfully Yunho was there to catch you.
“Be careful! We don’t want you getting injured.” He said, looking down at you.
“I’m doing my best not to, just misplaced my feet.” You said, trying to brush off the incident.
“Yes, like Yunho said, be careful darling. We don’t want anyone getting hurt, let alone our sweet angel.” Seonghwa said, coming up behind you, a hand on your back as you stood up, the eldest member guiding you past everyone towards where they’re going.
“Be more careful bunny. Besides, if you got hurt, we couldn’t play, now could we?”
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mmm heroo whump i loooove heero whump mmmm baby i missed you mm
“Oh, no.” The supervillain shook their head and sighed dramatically. “A speedster with a broken leg? Gosh, that’s too bad.”
The villain didn’t want to look at the hero crawling over the floor. Their sobs and pleas were bad enough already but the blood? The bone digging through their flesh? That was indescribable.
“Is this necessary?” the villain asked. They kept their voice apathetic, even though they knew their hand would be shaking if they lifted it. The hero’s broken voice filled the lifeless interrogation room, just like the blood covering the floor. “All this mess for an interrogation? You’re wasting precious resources.”
In response the supervillain laughed. In one hand, they still held the pipe and spun it around as their gaze wandered between it and the hero. It was a trophy to them. They cared little for subtleness. The bloodier, the better but they didn’t seem to realise how much time they were wasting.
“You know, with your legs all broken you’re just another human. Nothing really special,” they said to the hero as they leaned over. The supervillain tilted their head. Right when the hero wanted to push their upper body up, the supervillain rammed their boot into their back.
They slammed into the concrete. Face first. They left a bloody handprint on the supervillain’s pants.
And the villain clenched their teeth.
By now the hero was quieter. It wasn’t that they had given up — they’d probably still attack anyone if there was a bullet in their chest — but their energy was fading and their muscles were failing. The villain had never seen them like this.
“It’s a dead end. They won’t give you any information,” the villain said and they hated the hero for that. Truly, deeply loathed that the hero endured torture for hours and even when their bones broke, they didn’t say a word to save themselves.
What kind of sick loyalty was that? What kind of unquestioned obedience? The villain was nearly jealous of that.
“You’re so pessimistic today…we just have to get a little creative, don’t you think?” the supervillain asked. “What if we make them run with their broken leg and if they stop, we kill them?”
“You think that’s creative?” The villain focused on the supervillain instead of the hero who tried to push themselves up again with their trembling arms. Their grunts and moans sounded more like those of an animal. And that wound…the villain could see their tibia.
Yet, the villain pinched the bridge of their nose and squeezed their eyes shut, surprised by their partner’s idiocy.
“Well, it could be entertaining.”
“They can’t even stand up. What makes you think they could run for your entertainment?” the villain asked.
“I dunno. I like experimenting.” The villain sighed.
If they wanted to save the hero, they needed to do it in private. Convincing the hero to give up their secrets wasn’t going to be easy but the villain had information the supervillain could never know about.
“Great. It was your turn and it didn’t work out. Now it’s mine. Give me 20 minutes with them and you’ll have your oh so desired information,” the villain said.
The supervillain studied them.
“You know what? You’re right. They’re your nemesis. Why should I get involved anyway? God forbid I do a friend a favour.”
“Look, I—” the villain looked at the hero’s tears “—appreciate your efforts. But I fear they’re quite stubborn. They won’t give you what they want, even if you take them apart bit by bit.”
For ten very, very long seconds, the supervillain stared at them.
“Is this a possessive thing?” they asked. They had the audacity not to whisper.
But the villain was willing to push them.
“It is a I-know-your-spouse-shouldn’t-know-you’re-a-criminal-thing,” they said. All the villain needed to see was some time with the hero, even if that meant they’d threaten the supervillain.
They didn’t care what their partner thought about this. Or what kind of rumours they wanted to spread. The villain had enough dirt on enough people to bring a quick end to such accidents.
“Oh, stooping to a new low?”
“Forgive me,” the villain said. They stood up. “I’m sure you understand. They’re my nemesis and you’re robbing me of all the fun. I have to draw some lines here.”
“Fine.” The supervillain didn’t look necessarily happy when the villain cornered them until the last escape was through the door.
“Search for something else to play with, will you?” the villain asked. They opened the door of the interrogation room and offered their partner the way out.
Without a second glance, the supervillain mumbled incoherent curses on their way out until the villain shut the door behind them.
However, as soon as they left, the villain walked over to their nemesis and kneeled.
“Hey, come here.” They grabbed them and pulled them onto their lap. The hero kept looking at their leg and whimpered. Fingers drenched in blood found the villain’s jawline and cheekbones and left fingerprints there.
The villain’s heart was beating fast. Usually, they were able to control themselves in stressful situations but the hero desperately clinging onto them startled them.
“I’m sorry,” the villain whispered. “They won’t let go of you. They’ll kill you if you don’t give them anything.”
The hero shook their head and hid their face in the villain’s clothes. They seemed to know how this was turning out.
“Please,” the hero begged. “Please, it hurts so much, it hurts…”
The villain wiped some loose strands of hair out of the hero’s face.
“They want information on your latest mission. You have to give them something. After that, I can protect you,” the villain promised. They could feel how the hero held onto them.
“I can’t, please, please—”
“Sweetheart, don’t make me do this.”
“No, please.” Their tears rolled down their cheeks and the villain’s heart splintered.
Blackmail was the villain’s preferred way of fighting. Everyone had their secrets and the villain liked to obtain information like no other.
In a world where information spread in seconds, a well kept secret could be the key to peace and conflict.
But their hands were shaking. Tears burnt in their eyes.
“You know I know your siblings. If…” The villain felt disgusting. They felt filthy, wretched even. Despising themselves was new and this feeling was alien to them. It hurt, it burnt. But even if the hero never forgave them for it, this would save them. “…if you don’t tell them, I will kill one of them.”
“No, I trusted you, they love you.”
“I’m sorry,” the villain said. They kissed the hero’s temple. “This is the only way, I fear.”
After that, they developed a distaste for blackmail.
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Borrowing The Chauffeur
Alastor x GN!Chauffeur!Reader
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A/N: To the lovely @aboyscriminalrecord because I want to and I love Alastor being a sneaky lil shit.
TW:Alastor being Alastor
Of course Alastor remembered you, it was when you first started working for Vox all those years ago when they were still on good terms with one another. Such a quiet and frightful thing you were. But he could admit, you were the best driver around hell. Always made sure everything was orderly and the ride was smooth sailing. He’d be a liar if he said he didn’t miss you. Because truthfully, he did. He missed how you had that silent confidence about yourself and how your darling smile just lit up the room or well..car, he never really saw you outside of work. Like you were almost invisible to the wandering eyes of hell.
But now he found himself walking out of the hotel doors and waiting for you to appear with a car so you could drive him around. He missed you dearly. Maybe he could persuade Vox to let you drive for him. Or..he could persuade you. His smile grew wider at the thought, he’d just have to pay you a little visit, did you still live in those old apartments on the outskirts of the entertainment district? He’d just have to go take a look for himself, the other three wouldn’t mind you getting a little bit more cash especially with what Vox pays you.
When he arrived and knocked on the familiar apartment door, he looked down and saw the ‘Voxtech’ gift basket next to it he grimaced. He’s still sending you those stupid gifts even after all these years? It took two more knocks but you eventually opened the door and to his surprise, you were in Voxtech pajamas but the look on your face made it all worth it. The way your hair was messed up to the drool falling down your chin, he would’ve found it disgraceful for anyone to be in his presence looking like that but he knew you. “Hello, Deer~” You reached up, wiping at your eyes and then face before staring up at him. “Did you have a good nap?” He asked carefully, pushing past you walking into your apartment, looking around to see a few things that have moved ever since he saw you last.
You closed the door and turned to him, “I-I wasn’t expecting any visitors today, Sir.” You said not looking in his direction scared of what he might do to you. Would he kill you? Is this how he knocked Vox down one peg? A soft hum escaped him as he walked around before he walked back over to you, watching as you fidgeted with your pants. “Of course not, I’ve simply come by to ask you a favor.” He replied, watching as you finally looked up at him. “I simply miss having you as my chauffeur and I was wondering if you could do so? I’ll pay you every time of course.” He brushed fake dust off his chest as he watched your body relax.
You thought about it for a moment, it shouldn’t really mess with your schedule that much and he’s less likely to drive around the Vee’s tower..You looked up, “That’s it? Just want me to drive you around?” You asked hoping he wouldn’t bring you into a contract over this. While you sorta..know him, you know his games and you’d rather not be on a leash even now. Alastor nodded and leaned down closer to your face, “That won’t be a problem?” He asked, his voice dropping a few octaves, you silently shook your head and his smile grew before he stood back up to his full height. “Splendid~” You froze and cleared your throat, “There is a problem though, sir. I don’t know where you're staying and I frankly don't know if you have a car..” You smiled at him before he waved his hand away, dismissing your concerns.
~~
A little headcanons here cause I want to-
The only car he has (he summoned) is a 1933 Cadillac 355-C Town Sedan that’s a dark red in color. You are only allowed to drive it, anyone else is killed on sight if they so much as touch it. 
He enjoys sitting in the back reading the paper, listening to old jazz play and having you drive him around. He allows only a few people in the car with him that includes Nifty, Husk, Rosie and Mimzy. You of course but you're the driver so you don’t need to worry about him getting angry at you for such a thing!
Your outfit is a totally different one than the one you wear for the Vee’s. It’s a uniform from the 1930’s and once again it’s red and black with a few spots of gray here and there. It suits his color scheme better and he adores how the red looks on you.
He doesn’t call you often for you to pick him up from the hotel but when he does it’s usually because he either has a meeting to go to, he wants to go out on the town with Rosie or he’s rubbing it in Vox’s face. 
While Alastor is a dickhead to many, he’s less of a dickhead to you. He’s known you much longer than most of his acquaintances and he appreciates you. So if he knows how horrible your sleeping habits are? He’s marching you up to your apartment and making you stay home until you get enough sleep. He’ll beat the shit out of Vox if he bothers you.
He also pays you well like- sometimes better than the Vee’s combined. But if he can’t really give you the money? He’s paying you with food. He will pack it up for you like the good house husband he is and send you back home.
When you give him the tupperware back please give him some of your cooking or baking just nothing too overly sweet. He’ll be nice and tell you some ways you could add a little extra spice into your food or tips on how to cook something better. 
This lowkey turned into me talking about house husband Alastor and I need more of that. Anyways. He loves driving around with you and whenever he can, he’ll steal you from the Vee’s which pisses them off so much.
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m0nsterqzzz · 2 days
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word count: 1.9k
- Shorty - 
Clarisse la rue x fem!short!aphrodite!reader
Based on this request!!
summary: when past insecurities of your height come rising back up due to a pack of stupid kids, your girlfriend is there to pick up the pieces.
warnings: small scene of bullying, name calling (just a ton of bullying about being short), kinda oc clarisse i think idk. Kinda shitty cuz i have insane writers blockkkkkkk i honestly may re-write it soon cuz i kinda hate this. just my writing. the request is so cute thoughhhhh. kinda less of protective clarisse and more of soft clar im sorrrryyyyy. yeah i think ima re-write. sorry im ranting.
a/n: okayyyyy this took way to long. Im so sorry dear @cosmopretty!! I broke up with my bf of three years, a ton of stuff happened, but im finally back!! Thank you for requesting and im actually so sorry it took so long! <3
— – — – — – — – —
Being short in a world where height mattered was always an uphill battle for you. Literally. When was the last time you heard a Greek myth about a hero who was short and didn’t get stepped on by the monster they were trying to fight?
The second part didn’t affect you too much though. Not until you were a bit older. When you were just a kid, it was easier, as the only struggle you had was weird delusions of hidouses monsters nobody else could see and bullies that targeted your height.
When a satyr had shown up when you were young and told you that you were in great danger and had to come with him, you’d honestly thought about pulling the fire alarm so that you didn’t get kidnapped. One of the winged beasts only you see crashed through a window and launched at you though, so you’d reluctantly went with him.
That’s how you found yourself at camp half blood, where things like height didn’t matter as much to kids that were a satyrs hoove close to death at any given moment. You’d met kids like you, ones that made you feel less insecure about your height by the way they could easily take down the older kids in sword fights by using their height to their advantage. Then, you met Clarisse.
You’d honestly thought she would bully you, as she had a rep around here for doing that to anyone who dared look at her for too long, but she had seemed to take a liking to you.
She’d only flirted with you at any given chance, and then time flew by, and suddenly you were taking her out on a date after begging Chiron to let you guys go see a movie. You’d never left her side after that, and she never wanted you too.
“Baby.” Clarisse mumbles, keeping her grip on your waist tight when you try to get out of her bed. You’d been cuddling all morning despite her needing to go to training and finish the chores she didn’t do yesterday along with the ones she needs to do today, but she just doesn’t seem to be ready to get up.
You chuckle softly, brushing some hair out of her face which makes her smile a bit. She knows you have to get up and go back to your cabin, though her eyes never fail to make you agree to five more minutes of cuddle time.
So you lay back down, enjoying the peace of her cabin that never really comes unless her siblings are out like they are right now.
After a few minutes you get up despite her many complaints, throwing on her hoodie and brushing your hair in a mirror. Being an aphrodite kid, your looks are important to you, and you’d rather not go outside with bed hair.
Clarisse comes up behind you, chin resting on the top of your head and arms wrapped around your torso. “Hey shorty.” You giggle, leaning back into her before pushing her away when she begins to poke at your side in an attempt to annoy you. She loves your height, never missing a chance to remind you that she’s taller by using your head as a resting point, or towering over you when you talk to her. It makes her smile and it amuses you, so you let it happen.
The fact that it erases your insecurities, even if for just a few minutes, is just a bonus.
Finally you leave her cabin, rushing off to your own and quickly greeting your siblings before you begin getting ready, a permanent blush on your face with the memory of your girlfriend.
After getting ready and packing your bag, you leave your cabin, nodding towards Clarisse in greeting across the green. Today is Friday, which means capture the flag, which means Clarisse’s favorite day. She enjoys these blood fests, and though you do too, nobody- including you- is as crazy and rough about it as your girlfriend.
You and your siblings sit at your table in the dinner hall until Chiron calls out for your cabin, and though you all push eachother out of the way, you end up second to last in the line to get food. You sigh, rolling your eyes at the way Silena sticks her tongue out at you with a smug smile before you lean on the wall and wait for your turn.
Once you’ve got your food, you walk back to your table, though you accidentally run into one of the older kids named Jackson. You try to apologize, but he cuts you off. “Watch where you're walking, hobbit.” You have to admit it makes you a bit upset, but you’ve heard worse, so you just mumble your apology and stumble off.
“Hey shorty! I’m talking to you!” He calls out, followed by some more people giggling as they step up behind you. It sounds gross when they say it, as you're more used to Clarisse calling you that. It doesn’t make you feel warm and flustered when they say it. It just makes you feel small.
You turn around to look at them with a frown of confusion, but it just turns into a plain old frown when you see the way he’s looking at you. The same way all your old bullies would look at you.
Where is Clarisse?
Her cabin still isn’t here, so you're left to just look at him with a scowl. He sees it, and his smug smile only grows.
“Something you wanna say elf? I think Santa needs you back at the factory now.” All his friends laugh, but it’s the worst insult ever, so you just tighten your grip on your tray and glare at him.
“I think you gotta go get back to the kid’s table before Chiron see’s you.” You don’t know why, as that insults as dumb as the others, but it strikes some type of nerve in you and tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. It only eggs on Jackson, because he begins high fives his girlfriend Ashley and tells you to go cry about it like a baby.
“Nobody needs a short hero. You’ll be dead before your little girlfriend can save you.”
You basically cower off to your table, head hung low in shame and picking at your food. Your siblings look worried, especially when their attempts for conversation go completely ignored.
Is Jackson right? Is being short completely a disadvantage?
That night, all though your siblings drag you out of bed for a campfire, one set to celebrate another one of your girlfriends wins in capture the flag, you mostly keep to yourself. You sit on one of the logs, watching with sad eyes as everyone else dances around and cheers for Clarisse.
She's only focused on you though. She watches from across the fire as you wipe away tears, a frown stitched onto her face despite the praise coming from her friends and siblings.
Why are you crying?
Clarisse gets up, ignoring her siblings as she walks over to you and kneels down behind you, resting her chin on your head and her arms securely around your waist. You just squirm out of her grip, and she might even say the frown on your face only deepens.
“What's wrong shorty? Nobody gets to cry on my celebration campfire, especially not you.” She attempts a joke, giving you a small smile as she rubs your bag. You roll your eyes, looking at her with the most serious expression she's ever seen on your face.
“You know my name. My name isn't Shorty.”
Clarisse frowns, biting her bottom lip. You'd been this way when you first got to camp, after years of being bullied, but since then she'd reassured you that nobody cared how tall you are and she in fact loves your height.
But this….it makes it seem almost like you're going back to the olds way. Like you're being bullied again.
“Did someone say something?” She questions after a beat of silence, previous sadness replaced by anger as she scans the crowd like she’s just going to know who said something mean to you by reading their mind.
You shake your head, hiding your face in your hands but still not answering her. Finally you look up, eyes filled with a sadness she would kill to see go away before you nod towards where Jackson is cuddling with his girlfriend over on the lawn.
Clarisse immediately gets up in search of her spear, but you grab her wrist, gently tugging her to sit back down. “No. Please Clar. Don’t make it a big deal.” You basically beg, and her eyes slightly soften before they go back to pure rage.
“No. Nobody gets to be mean to you. Tell me what they said.”
You shake your head fast, hand clasped over your mouth. She tilts her head a bit and you once again shake your head no, knee’s bouncing in nervousness at the way she’s staring at you.
So you spill. You tell her everything they said, how mean they were, how bad it made you feel. And by the end of it, you and your sister have to hide her spear from her and convince her not to go kill Jackson and Ashley.
Clarisse takes a deep breath, cracking her knuckles before she sighs. She’s never been very good at comforting people, more so killing them, but here you are, her girlfriend, crying over something someone you barely even know said about you. She has to figure it out.
“I love the way I can put my chin on your head and hold you tight. Makes me feel like I can protect you even more.” She says quietly, clearing her throat and continuing when you look up with a sniffle. “and….I love that you have to get on your tippy toes to kiss me. It makes me smile. And I-I love when you somehow fit yourself into tiny little spaces. Make’s ambushes in fights a lot funnier when I see the look on the other person's face. And…I think you’re a great fighter. You can take me down ⅘ times when we fight, and I think you could protect me in battle better than anyone could. You’re a good demigod, your height just adds to that.”
By the end of it you can’t help but smile, slightly nudging her with a blush. She nods, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and pulling you close into her chest. She kisses your forehead, lips lingering there for a second before she pulls away to look you in the eyes.
“I love you shorty.”
— – — – — – — – —
Safe to say, by the next morning, news gets around that Jordan and Ashley are resting in the infirmary with matching broken noses and black eyes.
— – — – — – — – —
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5 times you and Miguel walked away from each other and 1 time you didn't
pairing: Miguel O'Hara x reader notes: brother'sbestfriend!Miguel, soccerplayer!Miguel, college au, slow burn, somewhat mutual pining but written from reader's perspective more exclusively, SFW - only slightly suggestive (worst thing is probably a boner), fem reader (pretty neutral though), saying soccer instead of football felt so dirty but oh well, thank you for reading!! word count: 5.9k
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You’re having your first lazy day in forever. It’s the first day in recent memory that you didn’t have something to do or somewhere to be. You’re just going to hang out in your apartment and watch your favorite shows or read for fun for once or whatever else you feel like doing. Because you don’t have to go anywhere, you don’t even take a shower, opting to stay in your comfy pajamas, not bothering with any makeup or hair effort, as you lounge around. 
You have the place to yourself now, but you share it with your twin brother Alex, the two of you lucky enough to go to the same university. 
When you eventually hear his keys scratching at the door, you’re sprawled on the couch reading a novel you’d left half-finished for ages despite actually really enjoying it. School really had a way of making you not read. Or at least never full books. 
As Alex opens the door, you’re surprised to hear him talking to someone else. You see his unexpected guest a moment later from your spot on the couch, your college apartment rather small after all. And you’re mortified. Miguel. Alex’s best friend, university soccer team superstar, ridiculously attractive Miguel. 
God, why did Alex not warn you he was bringing someone over? All it took was a quick message, for fuck’s sake. And Miguel of all people? Ugh. Well, it wasn’t like you could tell him. “Hey, brother dear, I have a huge crush on your best friend, so can I please get a warning next time he’ll be around? You know, especially so I’m not looking like a total mess when he shows up?
He’d been coming over a lot recently actually. He and Alex were both on the soccer team and happened to share a few classes too, so their schedules really lined up. Usually, it was nice to get to see him. It’s not like either of them paid that much attention to you when they were hanging out, but Miguel was nice to look at. Even now, they seemed like they were coming back from a casual soccer match or something, and he still looked amazing. His thick, dark hair was messy in the way that made you want to run your hands through it; his t-shirt hugged his unreasonably broad chest and shoulders perfectly, and his sweatpants — fuck, his sweatpants — his ass looked miraculous as he turned to put his gym bag down.
Miguel’s looking at you as he and Alex step into the living room. “It’s Saturday, Y/N, and the weather’s finally fucking nice. Why’re you reading a book? You’re such a nerd,” Alex snaps as he plops onto the couch next you, pushing your legs off to make room. 
“I’m a nerd because I’m reading a book? Am I am tomboy because I’m not wearing a dress, too, or are we keeping it to one stupid superficial stereotype?” 
Miguel chuckles as he sits on Alex’s other side. “Cut him some slack, Y/N, he took a soccer ball to the head today. Might be making him even more of an idiot than usual.” 
You can’t help but worry; you love the idiot after all. 
“You okay? Was it bad?” you’re asking as you run your hand over his head looking for bumps. “I’m fine, mom,” he mocks, pushing you away. “And you? You asshole,” he accuses Miguel playfully. “‘Took a ball to the head’?” he repeats, then turning to you adds, “It was him that kicked it!” Miguel starts laughing.
“It was the perfect setup, man. Not my fault you were distracted.” “Whatever,” Alex says as he reaches for the video game remotes. Knowing them, it was time for FIFA.
You’re eager to hide with how you look right now anyway, so you get up to head into your room. “We didn’t mean to kick you out,” Miguel starts kindly. “ You don’t have to go; you were clearly comfortable here.” “Clearly comfortable”? God that sounded bad in your head. He was “super hot”; you were “clearly comfortable.”
“Thanks, Miguel. It’s fine. I was going to —“ but you don’t finish your excuse as you trip on the remote’s charging wire as you step across, falling unceremoniously to your face right in front of them. 
“Mierda!” Miguel yells.
Alex immediately asks, “You okay?,” but it’s Miguel who’s up and over you in the same instant.
“You alright?” he asks softly as his hands grab your hips to help you up. 
His hands on you were the last thing you needed right now. So much for composure. “Fine. Really,” you say, your breath shaky. You’re kneeling on your living room floor; Miguel’s squatting in front of you, close; his hands haven’t left your body even though you’re no longer prone. He just watches you closely, eyes beautiful and concerned. You stare back into them, and after a couple more shaky breaths finally manage to stand up and step away, looking anywhere but at him. “‘M fine,” you repeat. You turn away hurriedly and go the few steps to your room. Once safely behind closed doors, your face scrunches and your stomach sinks at the sheer embarrassment. 
~
It’s been days since Miguel was at your apartment, and part of you is happy for the lack of pressure but another part of you still gets a funky feeling in her gut at the idea that the last memory of you he had was of a clumsy mess. He and Alex have a game today, and pretending to convince yourself that you just felt like it today, you make yourself up more than usual for it. You’re actually pretty happy with your look as you head out to meet some friends at the match. 
They win. Miguel scores. Twice. Alex’s defense is probably the main reason for their clean sheet. 
So, hyped up on adrenaline and victory, they’re laughing and messing around with their teammates as a bunch of people approach the sidelines to congratulate them. Alex spots you and makes a goofy face, always so playful when he’s happy. He jogs over to you and gives you a huge hug.
“Stop, you’re so sweaty!” you squeal. He just holds you tighter and rubs his sweaty hair on you, laughing. When he finally pulls away, Miguel is standing right next to him, smiling at the two of you. “Do I get a hug too?” he teases. “I scored two more goals than he did!” 
You’re not sure if he’s kidding, and you’re sure the chuckle you give in response is somewhat tense.
But, stepping toward him, you just say, “Congratulations,” and wrap your arms around his shoulders without getting too close. Damn, they were like boulders. Miguel wraps his arms around your waist and closes the distance you’d maintained, giving you a surprisingly intimate embrace. You’re struck by the feeling of him around you. He’s sweaty, too, and you can smell his musk, but instead of off-putting, you find it incredibly arousing. You can feel the rise and fall of his breathing where your chest is flush with his. He’s so warm, and you just want to breathe him in and trace every ridge of his body. But the hug is already lingering too long to be normal, and you pull back a bit awkwardly. Miguel is still looking at you, a subtle smile on his face. 
He seems about to say something when a high pitched squeal right next to you startles you. 
“Miguel!” a very pretty girl yells at him as she approaches, unabashedly jumping onto his back. She’s in a cheer uniform. “Oh my god, you were so good!” Miguel’s so sturdy, her jumping on him didn’t throw him off physically, but his face looks a little flustered. “Uh, thanks,” he says politely, putting her down. She just giggles and grabs his arm as she compliments him again. 
You feel so awkward watching this, so you just turn around and walk away. You don’t see Miguel looking after you.
~
You’re at the after party with a couple of your friends. The soccer team was quite popular, and the victory parties tended to be good. You’re mostly having fun, but you can’t help but keep looking over to where Miguel is. Man of the match and man with that face, he was obviously the center of attention. People were coming up to congratulate him left and right. He handled it all so graciously. It shocked you how there was no arrogance in his demeanor; he was just the easygoing life of the party. 
You wanted to go talk to him too, but you’d already congratulated him and didn’t know what else you would say. The last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself again. You could go talk to your brother, who was right next to him, but he was busy flirting, and you didn’t want to ruin it for him. 
A bunch of people are dancing in the open space between you and Miguel, and the chaos lets you sneak long looks at him without his noticing. But when your friend leans over and asks, “Who do you keep looking at?,” you realize you have to be less obvious. “No one, just curious who Alex is flirting with,” you lie, proud of how quick you were with it. 
“You a jealous, protective sister type?” she laughs. 
“No, just curious.” “Is he?” “What?” “Protective?”
“Um, sometimes, depends. Why?”
“Because that guy over there keeps checking you out.” She nods toward an okay-looking guy chatting with someone on the edge of the dance floor. A second later, he was indeed looking over at you. “You should go talk to him!” “Oh, I don’t know. I’m not so interested.” “Why not? He’s hot! I’m pretty sure he’s on the team too. You don’t have to marry him, Y/N, just go dance! You’ve been weirdly tense all night.”
You look over again, and your eyes meet. Before you can do anything else, he makes the decision for you, walking over to you.
“Hey.” “Um, hi.” You exchange names and pleasantries, and he asks you if you want to dance. Without thinking about it, you glance toward the person you really wish you were dancing with. To your surprise, Miguel is already looking toward you. He looks less happy than before. You look back at this guy quickly, hoping neither of them noticed. 
You feel slightly bad thinking this, using this guy you weren’t super interested in, but you couldn’t help but feel it’d be nice if Miguel saw a side of you that might make him think of you differently, not just as Alex’s sister. It’s just a dance anyway, so, you accept the offer and head to the dance floor. 
You fall into a rhythm with the music, with the guy. The dancing is fun; the guy is fine. Your back is to Miguel, and you can’t resist spinning to catch another glimpse, doing it seamlessly as you keep dancing. Your breath catches when your eyes meet his. 
Miguel watching you from across the room is doing much more to turn you on than anything your current dance partner is doing, but you channel your new energy into your movements. It’s not a well thought out decision, though in the back of your mind you know who it’s for, but you start moving a bit more suggestively. You let your hips follow the music, let your hands come up to your hair as your body rolls rhythmically. Feeling especially bold, you even manage to meander closer to where Miguel is, giving him a better view. 
Unbeknownst to you, this unfortunately also makes Alex, now unoccupied, notice you for the first time. You don’t hear him leaning over to Miguel and saying, “Gross. I hate seeing my sister with random guys. Let’s go get more drinks.” He drags him away, and Miguel, unable to come up with a good reason not to follow, does. 
The next time you spin, all you catch is the backs of their heads.
~
The following week, you’re coming home from classes, and all you can think about is eating. You’d had to skip lunch to finish an assignment and couldn’t wait for dinner. 
When you enter your apartment, you find Miguel sitting on your couch. 
“Hey,” he greets. “Hi.” He’s sitting on the edge of the sofa closest to you, and he adorably shifts over to make room, as if you couldn’t just go around. You weren’t planning on sitting anyway, but now that he’s wordlessly extended an invitation, you do. “Where’s Alex?”
“Went to take a shower. We’re gonna play a couple games when he’s done.” He gestures toward the video game console. “Are the remotes charged?” you joke. “I hear it’s a hazard to have the wires across the living room floor.” Miguel chuckles lightly at your self-deprecating humor. He’s turned toward you, sitting in the middle of the couch, his elbow on the backrest as he occasionally messes with his luscious hair. “I felt so bad that day. Taking over your space and tripping you. When you looked so peaceful when we got here.”
“Don’t feel bad,” you laugh, amused but also masking your stirring feelings at the fact that he had thought about it at all. “I was just a mess that day. And I wouldn’t call my pajamas peaceful, just comfortable. In my defense, though, I wasn’t expecting company.”
“I liked your pajamas,” he teases, and you roll your eyes. “What? I did! I’m all for comfy clothing; have you not noticed 90% of my wardrobe is gym clothes?”
“Yes, well, you can get away with it. You’re a guy, and you look like that,” you say, gesturing at his body before you really realize what you’re saying. You tense as soon as you do. It just slipped out, the conversation getting weirdly easy and comfortable with him. “Like what?” he asks, but he’s smirking, knowing what you meant. You just roll your eyes again. “No, c’mon, chula, like what?” He lifts his eyebrows in challenge, mirth in his eyes. You’re too busy reeling from the pet name to have mental energy to come up with a retort. You’re grateful for what would’ve otherwise been embarrassing: your stomach grumbling. Miguel looks at your stomach and giggles. “Hungry?”
“Starving,” you say, taking the escape route and walking to the adjoining kitchen. He follows. “You can get away with it too, you know,” he says nonchalantly. You think you know what he means but look back at him questioningly. “The clothes. You always look good.” 
You’re glad you’re not facing him, your expression probably revealing your excitement. “Thanks.” “You’re welcome.” He leans on your counter. “So what are you having?” “I don’t know, whatever we have. Haven’t had time to go to the store.” You’re rummaging through your cabinets. “I can make you something,” he offers. You stop and look at him. “What? I’m a great cook,” he shrugs defensively. “Have you never had my tamales?”
“It’s not about you being good or not,” you giggle. “There’s no reason you should have to cook when you’re just here to hang out.” 
He just shrugs again, but there’s a tinge of shyness in his typically confident facade. 
You turn to open your fridge, and he comes up right next to you. “Oh shit, you guys have jarritos. Can I steal one?”
“Yeah, of course,” you laugh. “Grab whatever you want.”
You didn’t think he would immediately… As you bend over to grab something from the drawers, Miguel reaches up to grab the soda, leaning forward. Both of you moving simultaneously, your ass presses firmly against his crotch. You both freeze in panic, prolonging the position, before you jump up at the accidental contact. His and your “sorry”’s and “I didn’t mean to”’s get jumbled together in the colossally awkward moment. Miguel looks down, then back up again looking startled. He scurries around to the other side of the counter, it now separating you. “Jesus, Miguel, I didn’t do it on purpose! You don’t have to put a barricade between us; it’s not like I’m gonna jump you!” “No, no, it’s not that! Fuck, it’s, uh, fuck…” He looks lost for words. His hand comes to his face, covering it in resigned embarrassment. His voice is a mumble through his obstructing hand, “I’ve a bd’ve uh sitch-ation.”
“What?” He uncovers his face with an exasperated sigh. “I have… a bit of a… situation,” he whispers, looking down.
“Oh… oh!” you say, realization hitting you. Probably largely because of the awkward tension, at least partially at the idea of you giving Miguel O’Hara a boner, you start cracking up. He just stares at you, deadpan, his hands coming to his hips. “It’s not funny.” “It’s a little funny.” His glare cracks the tiniest bit. 
“Okay, maybe it’s a little funny. But it’s your fault!”
“I didn’t mean to!”
“Didn’t mean to what?” Alex asks nonchalantly, coming out of his room, lazily drying his hair.
“Nothing!” you and Miguel say simultaneously.
“Okay… should I just pretend that wasn’t really suspicious?” 
“Yes,” you tell him. “It’s nothing, really. Just me being clumsy again.”
His eyes are still skeptical, but Alex just chuckles and nods, letting it go at the look on your face. He heads to the couch with an easy “C’mon, man” at Miguel. Miguel follows, giving you a sideways glance and tense smile. When he sits, he immediately puts a cushion on his lap. You grab the first thing that looks edible in your fridge and head to your room. 
~
Two weekends later finds you at another soccer team party. They’d lost this time, 2-1. Miguel scored their sole goal, and the other team’s second had been a sketchy penalty. If the victory parties were good, the defeat ones were wild. Most of the players, Miguel and Alex among them, were drowning their sorrows, especially after such a disheartening defeat.
You weren’t a player, but you had your own sorrows to drown, and you weren’t stopping yourself from doing just that. You’d hardly seen Miguel in almost two weeks, and the few times you had, he’d been cold, keeping interactions mainly to greetings and goodbyes. You didn’t know if you’d done something wrong, if he was still caught up with your little awkward encounter, or if you were just making it up, your feelings for him needing some outlet. Making up stories by constantly obsessing about him was as good as outlet as you could get sometimes. Alcohol was a better one now. 
A while into the party, you’re at the bar for your… you lost count… numberth tequila shot. You down it, lick the salt off your hand, and stick the lime in your mouth, cringing. 
Your eyes are still closed when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You open them and see Miguel standing beside you. “Maybe switch to water, huh, guapa?” he tells you.
“Why? M’fine,” you slur. 
“Maybe, but you won’t be if you keep this pace up.” “And how would you know?” 
“Just noticed,” he shrugs. 
You squint your eyes accusingly at him. You didn’t know what you’d feel next time you talked to him, but you hadn’t expected to feel this angry. 
“You notice me enough to watch how much I drink but not to say more than two words at a time to me for weeks?” He looks surprised. “Y/N…” 
You cross your arms and lift your eyebrows in an implied “what?”
When he doesn’t say anything, you just walk past him. You end up walking through the dance floor, and though it wasn’t your plan, you kind of like moving to the music. You’re drunk enough to the lack the inhibitions to just dance alone. You’re enjoying yourself, not even bothering to look back and see if Miguel was still there. A bit later though, you startle as you feel a hand on your ass. You turn and find a random guy you’ve never met before, smiling at you disgustingly drunkenly. You’re taken aback, your mind already a bit slow from the alcohol, so you haven’t decided yet how to tell him to fuck off by the time Miguel is in front of you shoving him away. He’s not overly aggressive but, even drunk, easily moves the guy away from you with an angry “What the hell, man?” 
The other guy looks seriously scared and just lifts his hands with a pathetic “sorry, Miguel.” 
“Fucking better be, what the hell is wrong with you?” The other guy stumbles away. Miguel turns towards you, and his expression melts from frightening anger to warm concern in two seconds. “You okay?” he asks, his hands carefully grazing your shoulders. You nod and lean into him. At your seeming comfortable, he lets his arms come around you. 
“Thanks,” you whisper in his ear.
“Of course,” he whispers in yours, and it sends a shiver down your entire body. You stare into his eyes, your hands resting on his chest. 
“Miguel?” 
“Yeah?”
“Wanna dance with me?” 
They don’t call it “liquid courage” for nothing. 
Miguel considers you for a moment, but a soft smirk is whispered across is sharp features. He nods slowly, and his hands move slightly further down your back. You close your eyes at the sensation of his hands running along your body. You run your hands up his chest slowly and wrap your arms around his neck. When you open your eyes, you see his crimson ones boring into you. 
You start moving a bit more as you focus on the music to relieve some of the tension you’re feeling. He follows your lead, and soon you’re dancing together much more easily. As a couple of songs go by, you’re both moving freely, staying close to each other the whole time.
You’re so exhilarated, and he seems as enveloped in you as you are in him, so the next time the beat calls for it, you let your body twist rhythmically in his grasp. Your back is now flush with his chest, your ass on his crotch, your hand reaching behind you on his neck, in his hair. His hands are firm on your hips, and when you roll them against him, you hear his whispered “Fuck, mami” in your ear and feel his arm come around your middle, pulling you into him. His hips move in rhythm with yours. You’ve probably never been so turned on in your entire life. You keep this up for a delicious while. You can feel Miguel is hard through his jeans, but he makes no sign of being embarrassed, just continuing to dance with you with expert hip movements that make your imagination go wild. Of course he’d be an amazing dancer. Of course you’d imagine what else his hips could do. 
You twist back in his embrace, coming to face him. He holds you close, and you bring a hand to his face. He leans into your touch. You move your face up slightly, and he seems to be following, moving his down. You’re so close, even think you feel your lips graze his, when someone bumps up against you, making you stumble. 
Miguel’s strong arms catch you, but the moment is gone, and a second later, he looks startled.
“You okay?” he asks, stepping back a bit, speaking loudly to keep his distance. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you assure, but he seems off. 
“Let’s get some air, huh?” 
You follow him outside, the sudden change in ambience making your head spin a little. You lean against the wall, and he puts his hand on your shoulder. 
“Sure you’re okay?” You nod but don’t say anything, maybe a bit drunker than you thought, trying to ground yourself. He leans on the wall next to you. His body is warm where it grazes your side. You can feel his gaze intermittently on you. You get a little dizzy again, and you lean onto his shoulder. He just lets you, and you stand like that for a while. 
His fingers graze the back of your hand.
“Want me to take you home?”
You nod into his body. He wraps a firm arm around your shoulders and leads you away from the party. 
You’re home before you know it, the whole journey a blur dominated by his warmth by your side. When you reach your front door, you lean on it and look up at him. His subtle smile elicits your full one. “Thanks,” you whisper. “’S no problem,” he shrugs. “You’ll be okay?” “Yeah,” you nod. You’re already sobering up. “You?” He chuckles and nods. 
“I wasn’t the one downing tequila shots like water,” he teases. Your cheeks warm, and you look down as you chuckle. 
“Wasn’t that many…” 
He laughs.
“It was, cariño.” Again with the pet names. 
“I’m still surprised you noticed.” “I always notice you,” he responds without missing a beat. Your eyes snap up to his, and you see the longing there. 
You stare at each other for a heavy moment, then, drunk more on the sensations of your earlier almost-kiss than on alcohol, chasing that feeling, you lean up to try again. Your lips are a breath away from his when he looks down, effectively rejecting your advance. You pull away, mortified. 
“Sorry, I… sorry,” you stutter as you scramble for your keys. You turn to your door. “Y/N,” he whispers, his hand holding your wrist softly. “It’s okay,” you say, looking back him, wiping tears from your eyes. “You don’t have to say anything; sorry I misunderstood.” 
You quickly go inside and close the door. You lean on it, crying. Miguel, eyes closed, fists clenched, rests his forehead on the opposite side. 
~
Miguel doesn’t come around for a while. Even as days pass, you can’t stop thinking about your night together. Confusion, sadness, embarrassment — all mixing together into a terrible cocktail.
Another match day rolls around, and you can’t stomach the idea of watching Miguel play, of potentially having to talk to him after. You tell Alex you’re really sorry to not support him this time, but that you’re not feeling well. He worries over you a while, unhelpfully but adorably emptying your medicine cabinet onto the kitchen counter, looking through stuff, suggesting this and that, telling you to text him anything you needed that he could bring you after. 
A while later, you’ve just slumped down onto the couch, when your stomach sinks at the sight you’re met with. There, at the corner of the room, lie his cleats. He’d been cleaning them the night before and had clearly forgotten to put them back in his gym bag. 
“Fuck.” 
You lift yourself up, grab them, and head over to the stadium. 
When you get there, you pound at the locker room door, and it opens — of course, you couldn’t catch a fucking break — to Miguel O’Hara’s gorgeous face. Though he looks at you intently, you can’t quite read his expression. Then he yells over his shoulder, “Ale!” 
Alex jogs over and, upon seeing you, lets out the biggest sigh of relief. 
“Oh, thank God. I fucking love you.” He reaches for the cleats you’re holding up to him and gives you a  bear hug. “Saved my fucking life, Y/N/N. Thank you.” He kisses your forehead. “You don’t look as sick. You’ll be okay?” He’s clearly in a rush to get back but wants to make sure you’re alright. 
You nod and playfully shove his chest, pushing him back into the locker room. “You’re the best!” he yells over his shoulder as he saunters back. Miguel is still just standing there, all geared up for the match. It crosses your sick mind how good the uniform looks on him. 
“You’re sick?” he asks. 
“Nothing I won’t get over.” You offer him a weak smile. He’s nodding slowly, considering. 
“Stay for the match?”
“Miguel, I —“ “Please.” You’ve never heard him plead before. You’re head is nodding before your mind can catch up. He just nods too. “I’ll find you after.” And with that, he jogs back into the locker room. 
You’d never known ninety minutes could drag on for eternity, with a half-time’s worth of eternity in between. You’re sure you’re heartbeat was elevated the entire time, your mind and emotions reeling. What was Miguel going to say to you after the match? You had absolutely no read on him during your short interaction before. Then again, apparently you weren’t always great at reading him. 
Minute after minute trickles by. At the end of the second half, your team up a goal (yes, Miguel’s), the ref announces an unusually large number of minutes. You moan with everyone else, for your own reasons. What was a potential leveler compared to the leveling of your heart?
Slowly, the minutes pass. The other team builds a mounting attack; they get a good attempt; they miss. The whistle blows; the crowd cheers, and you, you’re frozen in place. 
You thaw yourself slowly as the players shake hands, go to their respective huddles. By the time they’re roaming the sidelines freely, you’ve only just managed to leave your seat. 
As you descend the bleachers stairs, you catch sight of Miguel. He’s obviously searching, halfheartedly ignoring the congratulations coming from all sides. His eyes eventually meet yours, and as soon as they do, he’s running over to you, meeting you much closer to the bleachers than the field. 
He comes to a stop right in front of you and just watches you. You just watch him. “Congratulations,” you say. He chuckles, lightly shaking his head.
“Thanks.” 
He takes a step closer to you. “Y/N…” “Yeah?” “I…” “Miguel!” you’re interrupted. “Congratulations! Way to pull it out!” “Thanks, yeah, thank you,” he says hurriedly, looking back over to you. “Listen, I just, I wanted to clear things up after how we left them.” You nod, worrying your bottom lip, your arms wrapping around you defensively.
“I didn’t want you to think that —“
“Congratulations, Miguel! Did it again, man!” And a slap on the back.
“Uh-huh, yeah, thank you,” Miguel responds, turning away, approaching rudeness. “For fuck’s sake,” he says, much more softly. “C’mere.” He grabs your arm and drags you around the bleachers, stopping when you have a semblance of cover. He’s looking around to make sure no one else is about to talk to him, and his worried looks right after he’s just won makes you laugh. The sound draws his attention fully back to you. He smiles at seeing you smiling. 
“Where can a guy get a little privacy, huh?” he jokes. “Probably not still by the field where he just scored the winning goal, I’m guessing,” you tease. He chuckles. Then he takes a deep, sobering breath. “Listen, Y/N…” 
His tone sounds apologetic, and it makes you immediately think the worst. He probably just didn’t want you to be embarrassed. Wanted to fix things so they wouldn’t be awkward if he hung around, which he’d obviously want to do given Alex was his best friend. 
Already fighting back tears, wanting to beat him to the punch to save face in whatever way you could at this point, you cut him off. “Miguel, you don’t have to explain anything or anything. I’m sorry I made more out of a good time than I should have. Please don’t let me keep you from hanging out with my brother even if I’m around, and I hope we can still be friends.” “What? No, that’s not… This isn’t about Alex. I mean, well it is a little bit.” He’s looking unsure. “Just keep things how they were before. It’s all fine.” “Is that what you want?” He looks serious. “What do you mean?” “Is that what you want? To keep things how they were before? To still be friends?”
“I… well… it’s what you want, isn’t it?” “I never said that.” “You didn’t have to. I tried to kiss you, and you pretty much said no to that. Twice.”
“I didn’t. Well, once, yeah I did, but it was only because I was worried you were too drunk. I didn’t want to take advantage of you. And, also, maybe a little bit because I panicked, okay?” He sounds more vulnerable than you’ve ever heard him yet. “I was worried it’d be weird with Alex or that I’d fuck it up with you, and I just, I don’t know, I panicked. And the other time wasn’t my fault. I was going to kiss you if you hadn’t stumbled.” “Someone bumped into me!” “I’m not blaming you! I just, it just, it made me remember you were drunk, and I didn’t want to be like that idiot guy I’d had to push away a while earlier.” “You’re nothing like that guy,” you say sternly. “I…” He’s started to look frustrated, unable to find the words. He runs his hand over his face, takes another deep breath. “What if you try now?” “What?” “I don’t know how to tell you. So maybe I can just show you. Try again, and no one will bump into you. I won’t panic, and I won’t think of all the things that could go wrong. I’ll think of how I’ve been feeling since that night. Absolutely fucking miserable. It’s been eating away at me; all I could think about was making it right with you, but I didn’t know how, didn’t know if I should. But I can’t take it anymore, and if you feel the same way, then, fuck, let’s just stop getting in our own way.” 
“Miguel…” “Yeah?” “That was pretty good for not knowing how to tell me.” Your face forms the slightest teasing smirk, your eyes lighting up at the realization of what he’s telling you. “Shut up and kiss me already,” he says, rolling his eyes, unable to help his bright smile, pulling your body to his and bringing his lips onto yours. 
You pull him into you, reciprocating eagerly. He moans into your mouth, and you feel his towering body sink onto yours. His arms are tight around you, one hand cupping your head, bringing you close. His kiss is fervent, desperate but concentrated. 
You run your hands in his hair, and he chuckles gruffly, the sound muffled by your chasing mouth. You lose yourself in his embrace. You grip him tightly, breaching into his mouth, wanting to kiss him as much as wanting to be kissed by him. You could feel the beginning of a beautiful push and pull as your mouths move together, your bodies mold into each other’s. 
You want to kiss him forever, but some loud cheering nearby startles you slightly apart. Miguel is looking deeply into your eyes. He kisses you again, lets his forehead rest on yours when he pulls back. You’re smiling when you say, “You should probably get back. I’m sure people are looking for you.” He groans dramatically and hides in the crook of your neck. He kisses it before saying, “I just want to be with you.” 
You giggle, nuzzling his face with yours, holding him close, your hand in his hair.
“Yeah, me too.” He hums into your neck. He plants another kiss there, and one on your cheek on his way up, as he lifts his head again. His rough hands caress your face tenderly. 
“This is good,” he says simply. You laugh and nod. “Fuck ‘em. I’ll go over there at some point. Let’s just stay here a little while longer.”
“Okay,” you smile. 
Miguel leans back into you, kissing you and kissing you and kissing you. 
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lisbeth-kk · 2 days
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May Prompts
It's the day of the Fall in the Sherlock fandom...needless to say that today's prompt is fall...
The Luckiest Girl in the world (chapter 4)
Summary: Rosie starts to interact with her uncle in earnest, much to Sherlock and John's delight. Mycroft is not that amused...
Four Years Old
Shortly after our seaside visit, things were set in motion by the British Government, aka Mycroft Holmes. Papers were signed, and a few months before my fourth birthday, I was Sherlock’s legal daughter. My Papa. God, how I love him. Just as much as I love Dad. And the adoption came with more benefits. I got an uncle and two grandparents as well.
My uncle Myc, as I call him, which he wrinkled his nose at in the beginning, is a complex man. Like his younger brother, but also different. The walls around him are thicker and not as easily penetrable as Papa’s. Gaining access to Mycroft Holmes’s heart, is no easy feat. Only a handful of people have managed it, and I’m the last one in line. Walls can indeed fall.
Dad told me how Papa constantly bickered, argued and fought with his brother, but Dad knew there was love there. Uncle Myc did anything in his power to keep Papa safe, and later Dad and me.
When I started to really interact with my uncle, Papa apparently had the time of his life, because at the age of barely four, I had no idea who Mycroft Holmes really was, or what he was capable of. I just saw a pompous man, always dressed in a three-piece suit, and carrying an umbrella. The latter spurred my brain, not to mention my tongue, into action.
“Why do you always have that parasol with you?” I asked and pointed at his umbrella.
Papa rumbled and Dad chuckled. It was Papa who had told me the name of the item. 
“It’s an umbrella, Rosamund,” he said stiffly and glared daggers at his brother, fully knowing who had “taught” me the name.
I didn’t care what the damn thing was called, but stared stubbornly at him and waved a hand, as Papa used to do when he didn’t want to be troubled with trifles.
“Why?” I asked sternly, lifting my chin in challenge.
“Oh, John. That surely is the spitting image of what you looked like when you turned his offer down in that garage all those years ago,” I heard Papa say.
I had no idea what he was talking about, and didn’t bother asking, so I continued staring my uncle straight in the eyes, daring him to deny me an answer. 
“You got your stubbornness from your dad,” Papa always says.
Uncle Myc cleared his throat and sat down on the sofa, before he explained some nonsense, I didn’t believe for a second. How the British weather is unpredictable, that he sometimes needed it for support if his leg should, for some reason, give way. At that point Papa and Dad snorted in unison and I rolled my eyes. That got me a tiny hint of a smile. It probably reminded him of his brother when he was my age.
“When you’re old enough, I will take you to the shop that makes these, and let you choose your very own,” he offered in a tone that was supposed to be friendly, but his lack of training in that area, made it sound more like a threat.
***
“Did you see his face, John,” Papa laughed when everyone had left my birthday party.
Dad giggled and was almost unable to answer, clinging to Papa’s arm like it was the only thing preventing him from falling.
“I did! Please tell me he still got surveillance cameras in the flat,” Dad said breathlessly and looked up at Papa with a pleading expression.
Papa bent down and kissed his forehead, and whispered something I couldn’t discern. It clearly contained something sentimental, because Dad cupped Papa’s face and murmured “love you”, before they started laughing again.
The reason for this silly behaviour had everything to do with Nana’s gift. It was an umbrella. Light green, with yellow flowers, green plants, and a white bird with a large beak on the rim. That in itself, wasn’t what got my fathers into a fit of giggles, but rather my outburst after I’d thanked Nana for it.
“Look, uncle Myc! I got one too. Just like yours. “
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starlightrosa · 2 days
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Spa Days in Hell
And here it is, everyone! The meaty fic I warned everyone about! (I lost the ask, but this was anon request anyway <3)
Summary: Lucifer's wings need cleaning after he spent so long neglecting them. Charlie has to do it herself, despite knowing how sensitive he is there. Seems like Lucifer's in for one ticklish as hell spa day.
Word Count: 3k words... goddamn lmao.
Warnings: kinda intense tickles in some parts, Lucifer has six wings, swearing too, Angel Dust and his unique humour. Still SFW though :)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lucifer nervously straightened his top hat and fiddled with his cane as he tried to look presentable in his room, in his castle on the edge of the Pride Ring. He was on the way to see his darling daughter Charlie, after so long of not seeing her or the new venture she had set up. To the king’s knowledge, it was supposed to be some kind of hotel to redeem wayward Sinners and send them to Heaven.
Lucifer knew what Heaven was really like. It was nice that Charlie was a dreamer, just like he used to be, but he just didn’t want to see his daughter get her dreams crushed by the angels above, much like they had crushed his dreams for humanity long ago.
“Okay, Lucifer. You got this. You’re seeing your daughter and what she’s been up to. Don’t fuck it up, Luci. Don’t fuck this up.” he repeated, his shoulders rolling back as he checked his wings. On any of the lucky days when he actually gave a shit, Lucifer would have refused to leave the house if his wings were anything less than pristine. But today, he just didn’t care how they looked.
Lucifer had his good days, and his bad days. Since landing in Hell, the bad days outweighed the good sometimes. Being cast out of Heaven and into Hell had sent Lucifer into a depression for a good while. While the sadness gnawed at his mind every day, he had gotten better at hiding it. But his wings had suffered as a result. Some feathers were broken, some were tangled, others were sharper than they should be and dug into the king’s back. To think some angels had only two to clean and take care of. But Lucifer had six fluffy appendages, all of them not being taken care of for perhaps longer than they should have been.
Well, he didn’t have time anyway. He just wouldn’t show anyone the wings. He couldn’t care less about his wings right now. Lucifer steeled himself and put on that confident smirk of his, as he grabbed his cane and took a deep breath, teleporting to the hotel address Charlie had given him.
The world shifted under his feet as Lucifer’s boots made contact with the streets of Pride. Overlooking Pentagram City was Charlie’s hotel. The “Hazbin” Hotel. Huh. What a weird name. Charlie was normally much better about naming stuff.
Well, Lucifer kept that thought to himself as he crossed over and knocked thrice on the door with his cane. Knock, knock, knock!
The door opened at once. Lucifer brought his cane down, resting both of his hands upon the top of the cane.
“Dad?” Charlie asked, looking a bit confused at his early arrival. Lucifer suspected she was expecting him to come a lot later. Oh no. For his daughter, he was determined to make up for all the stuff he had missed. Even if that meant arriving absurdly early before an agreed time.
“Ahh, there she is! There’s my Char-Char! How have you been doing? Good? Good, me too!” Lucifer cheered, giving Charlie a big kiss on the cheek, as he stepped into the hotel. It was… less than presentable, to put it nicely.
Lucifer felt that sharp pain in his back again, and he winced a little as he walked around.
“Are you alright, Dad?” Charlie asked, noticing her father’s movement. Lucifer looked back at his daughter, before he forced himself to smile, acting like his wings weren’t in utter agony from being neglected for so long.
“Oh, I’m fine, Charlie. Anyway, so how’s the business venture? Anyone important I need to meet? Got to make sure my daughter is being treated right by her patrons. Kindness and love and all that stuff.”
“Oh yeah. This way, Dad!” Charlie said, taking him off to see the others. “So the first one I want you to meet is Vaggie, my girlfriend. Vaggie, this is my father, Lucifer.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.” Vaggie smiled, though Lucifer noticed the ‘X’ over her eye and indeed the angelic spear. If his wings were out right now, they would have puffed up to sense danger. Vaggie was an angel? A former Exorcist, no less. And they were dating? An Exorcist, COURTING his daughter?! The very idea felt absurd. But Lucifer smiled.
“Oh, you like girls! Why, I like them too! Glad to see we have so much in common! Put ‘er there, Maggie!” Lucifer smiled, not seeming to notice that he had gotten her name wrong as he swept Vaggie into a hug. His hidden wings twinged again, a painful reminder to Lucifer that he had to take care of them at some point. He grimaced, but buried his face into Vaggie’s shoulder.
Vaggie chuckled as she awkwardly patted Lucifer on the back before the king disengaged from the hug. Lucifer cleared his throat, and hummed.
“Who else?”
“Oh! So we have Husk, the bartender.” Charlie then said. Husk just grumbled a little, as was true to his character.
“Hello, your Royal Majesty.” Husk muttered, before drinking from a bottle of whiskey.
“The smiling demon over there is Alastor, who’s my business partner.” Charlie next said. Alastor had that trademark smile, but his eyes told a different story. He didn’t like the look of a being more powerful than him, sharing a room together.
“Good to put a face to the name. You are much shorter in real life. I would call you by your royal name, but ‘Your Highness’ seems woefully ironic, I’m sure you’ll agree. Your height just doesn’t justify such a regal way of recognition.” Alastor stated.
“Don’t go any further. Don’t want to say something that you’ll regret, Bambi.” Lucifer shot back, smiling smugly when Alastor’s deer ears flattened briefly, a soft growl leaving his eternally grinning mouth.
“Bambi? BAMBI? Why, you little-!” Alastor growled, his pupils briefly flickering into radio dials, before Charlie grabbed his arm.
“Calm down, Alastor. Dad, please don’t disrespect my business partner like that.” Charlie cut in, her eyes narrowing the slightest amount. Lucifer felt a little guilty, but he scoffed and continued on as Charlie continued the introductions.
“The spider demon is Angel Dust, a famous… actor.” Charlie said. “And the smaller woman running around is Niffty, our maid.”
Niffty waved playfully at Lucifer. “Hello, your Majesty!” she chirped, before seeing a bug scuttle past. The maid got a rather hungry look in her eye as she giggled manically, racing after the bug.
“Angel, come say hi to my father.”
“Your father, eh? Well, well. Hello, Daddy Morningstar~” Angel cooed, before flopping down on one of the lobby chairs and scrolling on his phone, flicking his white and pink hair. Lucifer coughed awkwardly.
“Okay… a charming character.” Lucifer murmured, before his wings twinged yet again, but the pain was sharp enough to make Lucifer turn away from Angel, and bite the back of his hand to stifle the pain. Charlie noticed her father’s pained expression.
“Dad? Are you okay?” Charlie asked, placing a hand upon her father’s back. Lucifer straightened up the best he could.
“Oh, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, little apple. I’m okay.”
Charlie didn’t believe a single word that ran from her father’s mouth. She didn’t use her wings very much, but as a young girl, she had seen Lilith tending to Lucifer’s wings before. He only reacted this way if his wings needed care. Come to think of it, when had they last done that? When Lilith disappeared, Charlie had to step up and take care of Lucifer’s wings when he asked. She was more than happy to, but it had been a while.
“Dad, did you clean your wings up before you came out?” Charlie asked quietly, not wanting to embarrass her father in front of her patrons. Lucifer cleared his throat awkwardly again.
“Oh yes, Char-Char.” Lucifer lied. But the light eyebrow raise from Charlie indicated that she didn’t believe him.
“Dad, don’t lie to me.” Charlie stated. Vaggie looked worried. As a former angel, she knew that their wings being neglected would only serve to hurt.
“Your Majesty, would you like me to take care of your wings? I’ll be quick.” Vaggie offered.
“NO! I-I mean, um… no. Thank you, though.” Lucifer stammered, backing away from Vaggie. Charlie followed him, Alastor by her side while the others remained in the lobby.
“Dad, I insist you let me help. I can’t have you in pain and-” Charlie attempted to reason. But she was cut off as Lucifer’s fight or flight response triggered. Lucifer ran as fast as he could and up the steps to the second floor of the hotel.
But Charlie wasn’t about to accept that. “Alastor, help me catch him!”
“With pleasure, Princess.” Alastor shot back, grinning as the two gave chase.
Lucifer ran, hearing the footsteps of Charlie and Alastor not too far behind. Lucifer was a nervous giggler, and sure enough, bubbly giggles slipped past his lips as he ran away from his daughter and her business partner. He needed a place to hide.
But that thought was cut off as Alastor’s tentacles wrapped around him and pulled him back to where Charlie was. Lucifer attempted to break out of the grip, but there was no give as Alastor pulled Lucifer back to where he and Charlie stood.
“Your Royal Highness, it’s most rude to run away, you know. Rather cowardly, too.” Alastor mused.
“Now that is the pot calling the kettle black. Haven’t you been gone for like seven years, Bambi?” Lucifer snarked back, but while he was busy sassing, Charlie grabbed her father’s shoulders and rolled them back. Lucifer gasped sharply as his wings popped out, letting his daughter and Alastor see the damage.
“Oh my God… Dad, how long have you left these?” Charlie murmured.
“Quite a while, it seems.” Alastor mused.
“Charlie… don’t.” Lucifer pleaded. But Charlie shook her head.
“Dad, I have to help you. Please?”
“I-It hurts, little apple. But you’re so busy already. I can… I can do it myself.” Lucifer said.
“Clearly, you can’t.” Alastor interrupted, but he silenced himself when Charlie shot Alastor quite the angry look.
“Not helping, Alastor. Dad, please let me help you.” Charlie implored.
Lucifer really wanted to say no. But his wings were hurting so much. He had no choice, so begrudgingly, he agreed. Charlie grabbed her father’s hand and guided him to the lobby, pushing Lucifer to lie down on the sofa and helping him roll his shoulders back to get at his wings, as the patrons of the hotel watched this take place.
Charlie plunged her hands into Lucifer’s wings and began plucking the broken feathers. Lucifer sighed as she worked, allowing himself to relax a smidge. But then he began feeling it. As Charlie’s hands ghosted over his wings, the fluffy appendages began to tingle in a way that could only be… ticklish.
Lucifer pushed his head into his arms immediately, refusing to even look at anyone. And then Charlie’s hands ghosted into his shoulder blades and he gasped, tensing up even more as the tiniest giggle worked past his lips.
“Dad?” Charlie asked. “Are you-?” she began to say, only for a deep chuckle from Angel. He fluffed his hair back and smirked.
“Well, I’ll be damned. Seems the King of Hell is ticklish~!” Angel teased, smirking widely at Lucifer, who looked like a deer caught in headlights. Well, he was not getting out of this one.
“For once, Angel seems to say something that makes sense.” Alastor mused.
“I heard that!” Angel called, looking a bit put out.
“You were meant to, my dear.” Alastor fired back. Now Vaggie chuckled, as she slowly approached Charlie, who still had her hands in Lucifer’s neglected wings.
“I agree with Angel, and Alastor. Charlie, you can do the actual wing care. I’ll hold him, and everyone else can enjoy this kinda show. Sound fun, hon?” she asked, leaving no room for discussion as she sat on the sofa and got a good hold on Lucifer. No amount of wriggling could push the former Exorcist off of the King.
“A-All of you shut uhuhup!” Lucifer suddenly piped up, muffled giggles sinking into the plush red cushions of the sofa which he laid upon. Alastor chuckled, twirling his microphone.
“You know, everyone. I believe the King needs to get his temperament in check. Quite unbecoming for a ruler. Angel, get his sides, I’ll get his hips.”
“You got it, Smiles~” Angel cooed, before he grabbed Lucifer’s sides and squeezed rapidly. Lucifer was thrown into snorting giggles immediately as he kicked his legs behind him, laying on his front still. Charlie had clearly gotten stronger then he remembered, and Vaggie had him in a tight grip too. Double whammy.
“AAH! A-AHAHAHANGEL!” Lucifer cried out, squirming. He was then thrown into cackles as Alastor joined the fray, compressing Lucifer’s tender hipbones. “STOP THAHAHAT AT ONCE!” Lucifer tried demanding.
“Sorry, your Ticklishness~ oh, oops. I meant to say, Your Majesty.” Angel chuckled, pulling his hands away at once for a bit. Despite the playful mood, Lucifer was still the King, and he could probably snap his fingers and kill Angel in a damn heartbeat.
“Who knew the King of Hell was ticklish?” Vaggie chuckled, a soft smile on her face as she joined in the barrage of teasing, tickling under Lucifer’s chin lightly. Charlie grinned, her hands still buried in Lucifer’s wings as she took care of each one. Admittedly, slower than she would normally have done them, but it had been a good while since she had seen her father happy.
“CHAHAHAHARLIE!” Lucifer yelped, wiggling like a worm on the cushions, his wings flapping from her precise (and very fucking ticklish) touches. Most in the lobby were lost in laughter, whether that was Lucifer’s tickle-induced giggles, or everyone else giggling along with Lucifer.
“I forgot how ticklish you were, Dad.” Charlie laughed. Alastor chuckled and approached now.
“Now, now. Your Royal Ticklish Majesty, don’t be hiding your face. Let us see the laughter worthy of his Highness~” Alastor coaxed, using his voodoo tentacles to tickle Lucifer under the arms. A loud snort from the king immediately and his hands fell away from his face.
“HAHAHAHA! B-BEHEHEHELLHOP, CEASE THIHIHIS!” Lucifer squealed.
“Budge over, Smiles. I wanna see if I can make his wings flap~” Angel drawled, the spider demon moving. Alastor graciously fell back and allowed Angel access immediately. The gloves were off, quite literally, as Angel peeled off his gloves and shoved them into the king’s wings, and Lucifer was thrown into cackles as he felt Angel’s spider fuzz right on his newly groomed top set of wings, while Charlie was working at the middle set now.
“T-TOO TIHIHICKLY, CHARLIE!” Lucifer shrieked, squirming for all he was worth. Charlie chuckled and allowed her father a quick break.
“I know, Dad. But you left your wings so long. I have to set everything back in order.” Charlie reasoned as she finished the middle set. Lucifer groaned through his giggles as he settled his very red face on the top of his arms.
“Alright, Dad. Just the lowermost set to do now. But I know you’re wiggly with those ones. Alastor, do me a favour and hold his wings still.” Charlie said. Alastor chuckled lowly, the lowest radio feedback noise coming from him.
“Of course, Princess.” Alastor said, placing his microphone safely out of the way as he reached forward and snagged Lucifer’s wings, stretching out the lowermost set to allow Charlie to get at them. Vaggie adjusted her hold on Lucifer too, as Charlie dived in.
“AAH! SHIHIHIHIT!!!” Lucifer screeched, falling into hysterical laughter as he tried twisting as much as he could, his body trying to escape from the tickles, but ultimately getting nowhere due to both Vaggie and Alastor’s grips on him, and Charlie sitting upon his legs wasn’t helping either.
“Tickle tickle, Your Highness~” Vaggie teased, snickering. He sounded less terrifying when she saw him like this. Who knew her girlfriend’s father could be so… strangely adorable?
“SHUHUHUT UP!” Lucifer barked, cackling louder as Charlie gasped above him.
“Hey! Don’t you talk to my girlfriend like that, Dad!” she responded, vibrating her fingers into Lucifer’s wings to be mean for a little. Lucifer wheezed loudly, falling into near-silent, open mouthed cackles.
“I’M SOHOHOHORRY! I’M SOHO SOHOHORRY!” Lucifer shrieked. “EHEHEHENOUGH, LIHITTLE AHAHAPPLE! ENOUGH, PLEHEHEASE! I CAHAHAN’T!”
The wing tickles ceased as a gentler hand replaced the ticklish touches, working quickly enough for Lucifer to not register the tickling. His wings were buzzing with sensitivity and the leftover giggles from Lucifer littered the room.
“So damn cute.” Angel murmured, smirking lightly. Alastor gave a silent nod, in agreement to Angel as Charlie finally finished cleaning up her father’s wings after about what had to be a total of ten minutes and climbed off of him. But to Lucifer, it felt like hours as he was finally allowed to close his wings. He sat up and rubbed at his eyes, feeling tears within them.
“T-That was so bad…” Lucifer murmured, shivering from ticklishness briefly. His wings were finally taken care of, and they had regained their glossy sheen on every set.
“Dad, please take care of your wings next time.” Charlie smiled, grinning at her father’s ticklish grin. He definitely looked like he had been tickled silly.
“I’d hate to see this happen again to you, Your Ticklishness~” Alastor said, in a tone that Lucifer could tell that Alastor wanted this to happen again very much.
“Once I get my strehehength back, ahall of you are goddamned dehehead.” Lucifer responded, even as he ascended to a spare room in the hotel. “You will be first, Bambi.” Lucifer muttered, as he all but fell into bed.
As sleep took him away to dreamland, Lucifer’s grin never melted off of his face as his wings fluttered softly in his slumber. Deserved after all that very mean tickling, and even in his dreams, Lucifer couldn’t recall the last time he had smiled so freely. Maybe he could tangle his wings on purpose next time, after he was done exacting some sweet revenge. And the bellhop would be first.
The End!
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