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#just so I have them together somewhere......
chronicowboy · 2 days
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Buck tucks them away in a corner when the mingling begins. They're stood far too close to be decent, Buck pressed up against the hard lines of his date with little care for anything besides being close, close, close. But in his defence, Tommy had taken his turnout coat off somewhere along the way which means he's stood there in a too-tight LAFD tee straining against his biceps and those suspenders Buck has always found more than a little maddening. So, really, it's only right to tuck his hands beneath one of the straps to pull Tommy even closer. And Tommy goes easily, smiling wide enough that it brightens his whole face as he presses Buck a little more firmly into the wall at his back.
"That was good. That was really good, right?" Buck breathes, his own smile making his cheeks ache.
He's horny, yeah, his boyfriend is incredibly hot. And, Jesus, the noise he'd made in the lobby—Buck can't wait to wring more of those noises from him. Mostly, Tommy just looks so stunningly happy to be there with him. So, yeah, he's a little amped up. But he's mostly just giddy. No, happy. He's just happy. Because everyone he loves knows who he is, knows who he's with. And he's just really fucking happy.
"How do you think they knew?" Buck asks then, still a little breathless just from Tommy's closeness, from the way he ducks just a little so their noses brush like they're in their own little bubble. "Like they all just seemed to know. I didn't even get to introduce you as my date." Tommy's eyes do something then, the crinkles at the corners smoothing out as they melt into something so fond Buck's stomach somersaults with it. "I mean, Hen I get. Her gaydar is killer. Like astounding. But Chimney?" Buck's eyebrows furrow, but it couldn't be called a frown for the smile still tugging at his lips. "Do you think he just saw how happy I was—"
"Evan," Tommy says softly. Buck snaps his mouth shut at the look on Tommy's face, all indulgence, downright smitten, if Buck had to take a guess it's probably the same look reflected on his own face.
Tommy reaches up to cup his face, swiping gentle, reverent thumbs over Buck's stubbled cheeks, smile twitching with bitten-back amusement. He pulls his hands away then, freshly cleaned palms coming away sooty.
"Oh," Buck murmurs, face flooding with heat. So, that's how they knew. Makes sense.
"I'm sure they saw how happy you were too." Tommy nudges their noses together again, a gentle little nuzzle that makes Buck's body fizz from head to toes, but there's something hesitant to it that has his eyes flickering back and forth between Tommy's. "You're happy, yeah?"
"Yeah." Buck nods just to feel their noses brush again. "Really, really unbelievably happy, Tommy."
And if Tommy's smile had been beautiful before, this one is radiant as the fucking sun. Buck almost wants to shield his eyes from it, except he doesn't. Not at all. He wants to map every inch of it and remember it forever.
"Good," Tommy breathes out. "Good, that's really good." One of his big hands finds Buck's hip, settles there and squeezes just tight enough to make Buck fizz again. "I'm happy too."
Oh.
Oh.
That's nice. That's really fucking nice.
They have to get out of this very crowded hallway immediately.
Buck lets his smile shift into a smirk and sways forward into Tommy's space. He doesn't look at Tommy's eyes as he does it, zeroed in on those lips that Buck could happily spend the rest of his life getting to know inside and out.
"Hm," Buck hums, pushing far enough forward that Tommy stumbles back a step. "We should probably go and get cleaned up, huh?" He extracts himself from Tommy's arms with only the slightest bit of difficulty, leaving one hand wrapped around his suspenders to drag Tommy along with a raised eyebrow.
Buck isn't entirely sure, but he think there's a little bit of pink underneath the soot on Tommy's face. It makes him even happier.
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moondirti · 1 day
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featuring: ghoap x nanny! f!reader. parenthood. adoption processes. fluff. slice of life. reader is given an age range
hear me out: simon and johnny transferring to reserve duty – i.e., serving the military on a part-time basis rather than being on active call – once they make the decision to become dads. it comes after a long period of deliberation (and healing on simon's part), but after they're absolutely sure that they want to start this next phase of life together, they call price to get it sorted.
who is thrilled for them, naturally, but warns that they still have a specialised commitment to the task force. if he needs them, then they best make sure they're there. the world isn't a better place yet, and no one can do what the pair does.
fine by them.
so it begins. instead of the complex and ethical choices that come with surrogacy, they opt for adoption and work with an attorney to facilitate the logistics. months of searching come up with a young mother, whose unwanted pregnancy has interfered with her life thus far, and is unwilling to make the further sacrifice that comes with keeping the baby. they must be more understanding, or otherwise less overbearing, than the other candidates – because two months later, they're in a hospital waiting room, anxiously lingering to meet the new addition to their family.
isla riley-mactavish. named after the river where johnny realised he'd be much happier with his lieutenant by his side.
the first few months are bliss. exhausting bliss, but a type of contentment that neither man has known since they first confessed to one another. isla's fussy through nights but they take turns settling her down, and if they have military duties to attend to then it's usually never at the same time. she's spoiled rotten – not just by them, but by the captain and gaz as well, who visit more often than not with bags full of toys they have nowhere to put. a little princess in the eyes of everyone who knows her.
by month five, she's teething and can hold her head up unsupported. simon reads somewhere that it's one of the most pivotal points in her development.
of course the call has to come then.
in the middle of the night, no less, and loud enough to wake her up from her crib. johnny scrambles to calm the bairn down as simon answers, price's grave voice crackling in from the other end. expected to be a long haul. a month at least. state security's at serious risk here, simon. i wouldn't ask you to come out otherwise.
and they made a promise. no matter how much it aches them to leave their darling girl behind.
rdv on base in a week.
he knows that one week is a matter of grace. he can feel the captain itching to hatch the operation as soon as possible, but has staved off to give the boys time to order their affairs. that doesn't mean simon's happy with the timeline, though. seven days is not nearly enough to find a sitter they can trust, especially given their own hindrances.
regardless, they send a job posting for a live-in, 24/7 nanny to close friends – no way in hell are they advertising it to the open internet – and hours later, johnny's sister lets them know of a girl who substitutes at the same primary school she works at. a real darling, apparently. honest 'n' stowed oot of energy, th' weans love her, and she haes experience with bairns too!
promising, but word of mouth isn't enough. they get a name and ask laswell to run a thorough background check. to their relief, it comes out squeaky clean. no arrests, no dui's, no shady travel history. modest socials with only a handful of followers. it's in line with what they know so far, solid enough to encourage them to reach out. so they do: just a brief email, asking what time and place would be best for a face-to-face interview.
they bring isla with them to the agreed meeting spot. a cozy cafe nestled in one of the safest parts of town. it's an early saturday morning and they're scheduled to leave in three days. so far, they've put all their eggs in this basket. johnny has to hold onto simon's hand when he notices the nerves dancing behind his partners usually void eyes. but if he were being honest with himself, he's just as scared.
they notice you as soon as they walk in.
sitting at a table for four, mug of coffee steaming as you bend over a well-loved book. despite your preoccupation, you're observant – they inch in your periphery and your head snaps up, a brilliant smile parting your lips as you spring up onto your feet. simon tallies a point on the ledger in his head. good. alert is good.
as is true for them, it's abundantly clear that you're who they're supposed to meet. johnny can't imagine anyone but a children's educator dressing like that: a gingham babydoll dress over a pair of blue tights, which carries over to the bow in your hair and is juxtaposed by the white oxford lace-ups on your feet. he startles when you extend your hand to shake his and he finds a painted fruit on each of your short nails. positively adorable. and so unlike anything they know.
simon shuffles next to him. isla reaches out from her bugaboo stroller, the colours having caught her eye.
"well hello there! aren't you just the cutest angel i've ever seen? do you like my dress?"
that's another point for immediately engaging with the object of your soon-to-be care. simon watches as you pull out a rattle from your purse, handing it over to the cooing baby. warmth blossoms in his chest, and his apprehension fizzles out in the heat. they hadn't told you they'd be bringing isla – opting to catch you off guard and seeing how you'd deal – so he assumes you carry the toy around for emergency purposes, like anyone else of their ilk would carry a gun.
something about that quirk just screams safe.
"it is a nice dress." johnny pursues, voice smooth in that way it gets when he's flirting but doesn't want it made clear. it took weeks for ghost to attune himself to it – he always just thought the scot spoke like that – but now that he's able to hear it for what it is, he shoots him a cautionary look. not so much mad as he is cautious. wouldn't want to scare her off.
"oh! thank you very much. it's my grandmother's design." you straighten up once isla gains a proper grip on the rattle, patting the skirt like you're basking in the praise. "shall we sit? i assume you have a lot to discuss, and i promise you'll want to try the maple scones they make here."
"please. after you." simon nods.
an hour later, you're giggling into your palm as johnny deviates into a story of the time they took isla to the hospital because they didn't know the soft spot on her head could pulse. simon is quiet in contrast, though not displeased. rather, he's focused on keeping the tally of all the green flags you've exhibited thus far. he doesn't mind that the conversation hasn't followed a typical interview format. in fact, people are more likely to show their true nature when in relaxed settings such as this, which is perhaps why johnny hasn't stuck to the script of questions they'd prepared beforehand. the man is better at social manoeuvring than simon is, anyway. he trusts him to direct this where it needs to go.
"it can be freaky! especially if you've never been around a child that young. i had a similar reaction the first time i babysat my neighbour's infant at sixteen. did you know that they can break out like teenagers? i noticed the poor thing's skin erupt in acne at just a month old and called his parent's crying." you wheeze, wiping the tears along your lashline.
"have ye worked wi' many bairns?"
"oh, yeah. it's been my primary source of income since secondary, all the way through uni. i just finished a master's degree in early childhood education, actually! and i wrote a list of referrals you can call if you need to double check on any of that." you rummage through your purse and pull out an apple-shaped sticky note. "do you mind if i ask what you do? people don't usually look for a full-time nanny unless they're really busy. not that i'm judging! i would ne–"
"military." simon interrupts, ensuring his tone is gentle enough to reassure.
"that makes sense! i mean, for an indefinite amount of time, the pay you're offering is more than perfect. above industry standard, really." you pause, brows furrowing like you're doubting whether you should have said that. "ah– whatever. anyway. isla is wonderful, just the sweetest. and the provided accommodation is an added plus. if you guys have no other qualms, then i'd love to accept the position."
"does i' bother you that there are cameras on the property? porch, kitchen, and living room. jus' for security's sake." simon tests, though he knows he doesn't need to, for extra measure. to someone with bad intentions, CCTV is a massive dealbreaker.
you don't hesitate before answering. "makes total sense! you guys are well within your right to check in at any time."
and they don't have to consult each other to know. johnny is practically buzzing in his seat, muscles flexed with enthusiasm as his gaze flits all over you. lingering on your chest in particular, before he looks over to simon and smiles in an offensively handsome way. simon can't help but smile back, crinkling his eyes more than necessary so the both of you can tell what's going on behind his mask.
it feels a little too good to be true, hopeful in a way that sets off the alarm bells in his head. he's stable enough to recognise that it isn't your fault, though. stable enough not to pin his distrust on you. this is likely the best shot they've got at ensuring their daughter's safety while they're away, and it's come in the form of a vivid, bright little blessing.
(with great tits.)
he'd be a fool to sabotage it.
johnny beats him to the cause. "ye'r hired."
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woso-dreamzzz · 2 days
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Firsts V
Hardersson x Baby!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: Your first steps
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There's something about your little family that makes Magda feel soft.
She isn't soft. Not really.
She's one of the best defenders in the world. She's intimidating and scary and people falter when she glared at them.
But here, in Germany, she isn't any of those things.
In Germany, she's lying on the sofa with Pernille on top of her, trading soft kisses while something random plays on the tv. You're sitting in front of them, banging some blocks together aimlessly.
You babble some half-words and Magda knows that you're very close to forming your first words soon. You grunt a little bit before deciding to taste your blocks.
Magda laughs. "Does that wood taste nice?" She teases and you turn to look at her.
You grunt at her again, before throwing your block over to where your girl-swan and girl-moose are sat further away.
"Oh!" Magda says," Did it not taste nice then?"
You hum, shuffling across the floor to where your stuffed animals await you.
Magda winces. "Does she have to do that?"
You shuffle more furiously on your bum to your other toys.
"She's happy," Pernille laughs.
"But..." Magda watches as you smash your moose and swan together. "She can crawl..."
"And she wants to bum shuffle," Pernille replies," She can crawl and she can bum shuffle. She tends to crawl more at training."
Magda pouts, something truly pathetic for such an intimidating Chelsea player to have on her face. "I want to see her crawl too."
She doesn't get to see you crawl often. When she comes over to Germany, you like to be carried and when you're put down, all you seem to do is bum shuffle your away around the apartment.
You giggle from across the room as you smash your toys together again.
"She's being violent, Pernille," Magda says.
"She's making them kiss," Pernille replies, glancing over at you.
"Really?"
"Yes," Pernille assures her with a little laugh," Princesse!"
You turn to look at her, halting your playing.
"Can you show me how your toys kiss?"
Your head bobs up and down and you smash your toys together again.
"Good job, princesse!" She says before grinning at Magda. "See, she's just aggressively affectionate."
"Aggressively affectionate?" Magda laughs," Is that we're calling it?"
"I think it's sweet."
Magda rolls her eyes, dipping her head down to press her lips against Pernille's. Pernille kisses back until suddenly they're trading lazy pecks back and forth as they cuddle together.
You turn your head to look at them both.
Whenever Morsa comes to visit, she's very cuddly with you and Momma. Today is no different.
She flew in last night when you were already asleep so today is a calm day at home. That's what usually happens.
The day after Morsa flies in, there's a chill day where you do nothing but stay at home and then the day after, you will all go out and do something together.
Most of the time it's the park and Morsa will push you on the swings and help you feed the ducks.
But that's for tomorrow.
Today is for kisses and snuggles.
Momma and Morsa have gotten started without you. That was okay at first when you were still playing with your toys but you're done now and want to be included.
You whine a little but neither notice you.
With Morsa home, you don't really need to use your legs because she likes to carry you everywhere.
You raise your arms for uppies but no one comes for you.
You huff.
You don't want to have to shuffle over because it makes a silly noise and you would prefer to be picked up.
It's a little annoying and you force yourself to your feet.
You've stood before at training, holding Caro's hands even as she glanced around the room in horror at being responsible for you.
So, you've had practice at standing so you stand now.
Momma and Morsa are still taking up all your kisses.
You want kisses too.
One foot comes down in front of the other until you're standing in front of them both.
Somewhere along the way, they've stopped kissing to watch but you're just very happy to get your own cuddles and kisses to really care.
"Did she just...?"
"Yeah." Magda's face splits into a grin. "Look at you, princesse!" She grabs you, fluidly pulling you into her arms. "Walking already!"
Kisses are littered over your face and you giggle, kicking out your little legs in happiness.
Pernille stays frozen for a while before she's taking you from Magda's arms and placing you back down further away.
You frown.
You're pretty sure you've already earnt your kisses.
"Come on," Pernille says to you, a camera in one hand," Do it again. Do it again, princesse!"
You place one shaky leg in front of the other as you toddle right back into her arms.
"Look at you," She coos," Such a big girl."
"I think this calls for cake," Magda says and you perk up.
You know that word.
"You want cake?"
Your head bobs up and down.
"Let's get cake."
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heeology · 1 day
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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.
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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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arlertwhore · 2 days
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pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader
synopsis: sneaky links at the bar gettin their freak on
warning (s): smut, bathroom sex, pussy eating, fingering, nipple sucking, paige licking ur body bc she’s desperate
word count: 3.5k
author note: okay so this is based off a req nd it’s not edited as per usual. once i learn how to use this app guys i promise — but as of rn I’ll just put it out there this is the 5th part to the fics I’ve been writing for Paige nd “you” / reader! Pls remember to send me req and leave comments I love reading them omgosh so long okay byee enjoy minors dni!
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After the events of last weekend, Paige's team was incredibly open and honest with her about their concerns. They no longer deemed your esteemed dynamic compatible with Paige's career after the state she'd been left in due to you supposedly ending things, only to have to her return to you, which had proved to them that it was becoming toxic.
They still liked you; they did, however, they just didn't think you and Paige sounded right anymore. They never made decisions for each other, just offered strong suggestions, and they had strongly suggested that Paige end things with you.
Post-fuck Tuesday night, as she freshened up in your shower and you did your nightly routine, readying for bed, you'd admitted to Paige that you had indeed severely overreacted, and you had said all, apologizing repeatedly, owning up to your mistake.
Knowing Paige greatly despised mistakes, you wondered how she could let you off with just a stern warning. It being her, even if Paige had loved you dearly, the way she conditioned herself for relationships in regards to her career made her capable of breaking up with you while she was using your own shower. It certainly wasn't because of her feelings; you'd even noticed a change in the way she looked at you now. While her words during sex were relatively sweet, her actions were different from the first time she had you with the strap.
You sensed things were returning to normal in your relationship's dynamics, but the external situation would be shifting due to her team's concerns about you. Despite Paige's explanations that they didn't hate you and were simply prioritizing the well-being of their friend and teammate, you were incredibly sore over the fact that because of this whole situation, you would have to be even more discreet about seeing Paige.
Meetings would have to be arranged differently because they could easily deduce you were together if she chose to take an Uber in the dead of night to 'somewhere' and returned showered with new clothes. This change in schedule meant she would be free during lunch breaks or other odd times of the day, while you'd be busy studying at the library and more.
Just as Paige made sure to work you around her schedule, you wanted to do the same, but she seemed to really want the compromise from you. It was like something had come over her recently, but she had become increasingly horny and pent-up with sexual need.
You had called her to devise a plan on how to meet in a manner that kept schedules intact. As you discussed different ideas, the thought of future intimacy made her increasingly aroused, and she had to break the call so when she called you back, you'd have her full attention. It was wild considering it was typically the other way around for you guys.
Nevertheless, on your own, you had come up with a brilliant plan: to attend the new club that had opened not to far on the cusp of town. It was the perfect spot where everybody would be to absorbed in their ownself and alchol to notice who was there and who was doing what.
"Are you trynna tell me you want your shi' tore up inna' club?" Paige retorted over a Facetime call once you launched your idea, the girl surprisingly close-minded, which she usually wasn't.
You knew she had most likely just been nervous about the publicity, but you hadassured her you wouldn't allow things to spiral out of control. Being as smart as you were, she trusted you. Plus, it was hard for her to disagree when you offered an ultimatum, shrugging, "Well, unless you wanna man-up and tell your team that—"
"It's cool." It's cool. Whatver. It's cool was how you solidified a promising Friday night plan. By the time Friday rolled around, 12 AM, when the club scene usually came alive, Paige had ordered the Uber to stop at your complex.
You felt like a prostitute as you waited for the car outside in a black bodycon dress and high heels (because Paige was tall enough to allow you to wear them), with your little purse containing all the products to fix your club girl makeup and hair.
You desperately wanted to take the edge off with some drinks, and once you entered the Uber, that's exactly what Paige had been doing. However, at your promise to ensure everything ran smoothly tonight, you weren't allowed to drink. This meant that once you'd arrived at the club, you definitley weren't on the same level as the blonde, who seemed prepared to have the time of her life.
And boy was she. With her arm around your nape, she held you close to her body as you entered the packed club, music booming, people dancing, and the DJ saying some wild, almost offensive, out-of-pocket stuff that only drunken people would appreciate.
"If you're here tonight sayin' 'fuck school' and you trynna 'fuck somebody', then say yeahh!"
"Yeahh!" The response was immeadiate and raucous, the students all reveling in the thrill of the moment, fueled by alchol. To your non surprise, Paige had participated in the call, always a party girl, and her big blue eyes, heavily accentuated by the strobe lights and the alcohol in her system had stayed fixed on you as she agreed, a big cunning smirk on her face, knowing you never appreciated jokes at the expense of education, something you took extremely seriously.
She shook you in her arm, "Loosen up, jelly," before relinquishing her arm and holding yours as she danced and belted out the song they played, "Under the Influence" by Chris Brown. You liked the song too, and as you sang, allowing the music to loosen you up, you closed your eyes and couldn't help but think of being at your house.
Sure, you had selected this location precisely, but you still hated that you had to all because Paige was succumbing to what her friends expected, and you were essentially obliged to follow suit.
So what if you guys were still fucking and you had majorly overreacted while Paige had underreacted? That was the beauty of relationships anyway. They were all deep thoughts to be having as Paige held your hips, big hands roaming your figure as you ground your body against hers subconciously, both of you moving in sync to the rhythm of the song.
The sensation of her firm grip and the subtle pressure of her hips against your ass had momentarily distracted you, igniting a sudden surge of arousal within you.
It was then you knew what would make your night better and assist in ending it quickly, sufficing each wish and thought you'd had moments ago. As you turned to meet her face, prepared to move in for a kiss, which had created a brief distance between you, your worst fear occured: a piping hot girl approached, seizing the opportunity presented by the momentary gap. "Are you guys dating?" she inquired, her voice cutting through the music. Even if you were, you wouldn't be allowed to disclose that to strangers. "Uhh... no, but—"
"Kay, then, thanks! I'm gonna borrow your date for a dance." Paige maintained the eye contact you had made with her, you, atonished at this randos behavior.
She leaned down into the girl's ear, loudly asking, "How old are you?" You didn't stick around to hear her response. You left, saying "fuck it" as you took a seat on a bar stool, ordering four straight vodka shots with no chaser and pounding them back as you tried to drown out the thoughts swirling in your mind.
You hated being jealous. A casual relationship meant you had no right to, which is why you had excused yourself before you blew up on the girl. Peeking over your shoulder briefly, you watched as she let Paige twirl her before forcing herself into Paige's arms, essentially claiming her for the dance. What sucked is that you could be that girl—the challenging one who'd just go dance with someone else as revenge—but you chose to sit your ass at the bar and drink away your feelings.
As much as you liked Paige, you had to admit to yourself that this ordeal was starting to take a great toll on your mind. You were here, allowing all of this just because she was afraid of her team knowing she was still seeing you.
In fact, Paige was always afraid of everybody knowing. You had spent so much time thinking and drinking at the bar that the song had changed finally, and you felt a hand intercept your waist. You were tipsy now, feeling more chatty and accepting of the presence, assuming it was another guy prepared to ask to get you something. But no—it was Paige, a lipstick kiss on her cheek.
If you were sober, you might flip, but tipsy, you just chuckled. "Enjoy your dance that much?" you teased as Paige sat at the bar with you. She performed the hand sign for 'meh,' disappointment evident on her face as she smiled, "She didn't wanna dance, I don't think." You put on a face of shock, exaggerating the expression for dramatic effect. "No way, Paige, really?" She shrugged, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "I was just bein' nice, you know?"
You nodded, a grin spreading across your face. "I'm glad we have a good Samaritan in the club." you joked. She patted her chest twice, owning the title, and then it fell silent. You faced forward on the stool as Paige turned to you, her expression contemplative.
"Y/N," she began, voice eager to chat. "Bueckers," you replied, mundanely.
She kissed her teeth. "Yeah, I thought I was trippin'. What's with that lil attitude you got?" she asked, referring to the last name basis you'd left her on. "I don't have an attit—"
"Then look at me when we're talking," she interrupted, gently tilting your chin to face her, in-turn, your stool. The stupid lipstick mark.
It's why you avoided looking at her face, not wanting jealously to overcome you. She looked more intoxicated than her words suggested. And if there was one thing about a tipsy Paige, she wasn't meant for public viewing.
With no hesitation, after tilting your chin, her hand trailed down to your thigh, slipping beneath the fabric of your dress, swiftly pushing it aside to reveal your black panties. "Paige!" you gasped, a mix of shock and arousal in your voice. "My gosh, cut it out." You hastily smoothed your dress back down as Paige grinned mischievously. "You mean... Bueckers?"
You rolled your eyes at her antics, feigning unamusement, but she simply continued. "Sorry," she apologized, taking your hand in hers and kissing the back of it, conjuring memories of the last time you hadn't forgiven her and what happened next.
She was trying to be sweet again, but in her own words, "I am... I just—" She kissed your hand again, trailing delicate kisses down your arm before she absentmindedly began to softly lick you.
"I want you sooo bad." She had this habit of playing footsies with you too sometimes—as she spoke, her foot teasingly nudged yours, and with her physical attention on your body from literally head to toe, it sometimes became hard to resist her advances.
She began moving in after what felt like an eternity of anticipation. She thought she had finally broken through your defenses, gotten you to loosen up. As she moved in for a kiss, her eyes closed and her tongue eagerly anticipating the feel of yours, you surprised her.
Practicing resistance, you swerved her kiss, meeting her ear cheek to cheek as you whispered, your breath hot against her skin, "I'm going to the bathroom." Before Paige could open her eyes, you had disappeared amongst the crowd in the club. She immediately turned to the bartender, who had been washing some glasses.
"Yo, where's y'all's bathroom at?" Her words slurred slightly from the alcohol, but she managed to recall every direction he gave her as she pushed through the club in search of you— in search of the bathroom. She couldn't wait to get her hands on you for teasing her like that.
In the club washroom, of course, it was not empty like the restaurant had been. There were girls around you of every emotion—crying, lit, and angry. If it weren't for your makeup, you'd be flushing your face with water, but since you couldn't, you just stared at yourself in the mirror before deciding to retouch your lip gloss. As you finished, smacking your lips together, the next instant saw you being hoisted by your waist into a stall, causing you to drop your favorite lip gloss on the floor of the dimly lit washroom.
"Woa—Paige! Wait, my lip gloss."
She silenced you with an aggressive kiss, pushing you up against the locked door of the stall. Luckily, she had picked the biggest stall, providing ample space for what was about to unfold. She sat you up on the counter for personal items, spreading your legs which were at perfect level with her torso. You felt so exposed—within seconds, she had pulled all your clothes off, leaving your body bare for her.
Without a second of further words, she took her phone and handed it to you. She was making this a new thing for her now—filming you in your sluttiest, rawest moments. But you succumbed each time, the thrill and rush and all the adrenaline in your veins exciting you.
Her finger slid into you with precision, the feel of her cold rings adding an extra layer of intensity to the experience. With each thrust, she skillfully worked her middle finger against your G-spot, sending your body into overdrive, causing you to stifle your moans with your bottom lip. She gazed up at you, her eyes dancing between yours and the camera, a playful glint shining in her gaze.
Her ability to shift from playful to serious with ease was captivating. After releasing a sweet chuckle into the lens, she seamlessly incorporated her tongue into the mix, expertly circling it against your clit. She felt incredibly soft against your clit, her tongue tracing every contour with mastery before she gently suckled on you, ripples of ecstasy pulsating throughout your being.
As her finger began its come-hither motion inside you, you couldn't help but whimper out her name, "Paige, oh shit," gripping her head closer to you in a desperate plea for more. She thrusted around inside you with a frantic pace, her tongue flat against your clit as she adeptly moved her head back and forth, creating a deliciously sloppy sensation that drove you wild with need.
It hadn't even been more than a minute, and yet you found yourself unraveling quietly, coming undone all over her face, the embarrassment of it all being recorded only mixing with the overwhelming pleasure to create an intoxicating whirlwind of sensations.
Paige continued her ministrations, oblivious to your climax until a minute later, when your cum began to ooze out of your pussy as it clenched and unclenched around her fingers, sensitive.
She stopped, gazing up at you with the lower half of her face glistening with your essence. "Already?" she cockily remarked, reaching for her phone to check the time, inevitably turning the camera to face you as she read it aloud.
It felt so exposing. Your legs were spread for her camera to capture, your bare body on full display as she announced, "51 seconds."
You covered your face, shaking your head, and Paige initially thought you were embarrassed. “No! That’s my time to beat? Nearly a minute?” you retorted sarcastically before hopping off the counter. “C’mere, Paige.” If it weren’t for the counter being in her line of sight, as tipsy as she was, she would’ve simply chucked her phone. You pressed her against the stall door as you kissed down her neck hungrily, undressing her simultaneously. Her hands roamed every curve of your body as you deftly worked to earn a moan from her, a signal you were on the right path to winning this competition.
As you finally managed to remove her top, you captured her nipple between your lips, sucking it with the most adorable doe eyes you could muster, eliciting a deep sigh from Paige, who nodded her head in approval, her expression a mix of pleasure and surrender.
With one hand delving into her pants, you teased her entrance with your fingers. “You must really like me, hm?” you purred, voice dripping with seduction as you dragged your finger upward toward her clit, only to move back downward towards her hole, teasingly denying her the contact she craved from both ends.
Paige shook her head. “Mm-mm,” she murmured softly, her breath catching as your fingers continued their tormentful tour of her dripping pussy. You chuckled. “No?” She was unbelievably wet — soaking, slick, and inviting.
The kind of wet where your fingers glided effortlessly, sliding through her slickness as everything felt impossibly soft. “Then I guess I’ll stop,”
Paige was too esteemed to beg you. Instead, she had tried to convince you, saying, “If you do, then you’ll lose.”
You hissed pretentiously.
“Good point,” you responded before dropping to your knees, an act of submission which never failed to entice Paige.
You delicately tugged down her blue jeans, smooching soft kisses along her legs as you whispered, “Mommy,” before gazing up at her, “I wanna taste you… so badly. Can I?” you pleaded, licking the outline of Paige’s pussy through her boxers. The girl drew a sharp inhale, chest heaving as if she was already on the verge of anticipating it.
“Fuck, baby, you can taste me,” Paige whispered, inflection showcasing the struggle she was having to find constraint within. “Thank you,” you murmured pliantly, gently taking off
Paige’s boxers to be met with the sight of her spectacular wet and pink pussy, possessing all the perfectest dimensions. “thank you, mommy,” you repeated once-more, appreciatively stuffing your face into her cunt, sucking a mouthful of her juices and her tiny clit into your mouth. “ahh shit, y/n,” paige bellowed, the blush across her cheeks prominizing as her brows furrowed in delight.
You kept your fingers busy, pumping two into her as you worked your mouth ravenously, eating her up. You were adamant you’d win the challenge since you spent time fucking yourself when Paige was away, whereas she would just satisfy herself with girls if she needed to and had admitted countless times that it was a rarity she ever touched herself.
You on the other hand had mastered the art of making yourself finish fast due to how short you were on time typically, so you weren’t intimidated whatsoever.
And you had good reason not to be. It’d been half-a-minute when she began to shudder, knees wobbling as she praised your tongue-work. “You eat it so well,” she murmured, rutting her hips against your face subconsciously and assisting in the speed at which your fingers plunged into her pussy, guiding them to encounter resistance with a teasing yet insistent touch. She gasped, body jolting.
“Right there!” she told you, her voice laced with urgency and desire. You complied, pressing your fingers against the resistant spot inside of her, causing her eyelids to flutter and mouth to hang agape as she praised, “Fuck, you’re such a good girl,” hand holding you into her cunt as she feathered your hair around, caressing you. “Please,don’t stop, ma,”
She clutched the bars for stability, and her breaths came in short, rapid bursts, betraying the intensity of her pleasure. She kept her eyes fixed on you, observing your every action below her, as you mercilessly devoured and fingered her cunt with so much contentment in your every move, finding joy in pleasing her.
You sucked on her clit with powerful suction, and your fingers felt like punches to her guts, but in a pleasing manner.
Her body tensed, muscles coiling with anticipation. A rush of heat flooded her senses, a fire consuming her body. Her breath hitched, becoming erratic as she teetered on the edge of release. With each thrust of your fingers and flick of your tongue, all it’d really took was you looking up at her to assess how near she was before Paige completely let loose, succumbing to the pleasure and subsequently cumming all over your face while delivering a string of curse words as her body convulsed.
You wasted absolutely no time, leaping back up onto your feet to grab her phone just so you could see the time: it read from the last timestamp you kept in your brain, just 45 seconds. "How bad's the damage?" Paige asked, trying to catch her breath.
With a wide grin, you replied, "Forty-five seconds," and her face showed marvel, the girl in utter shock.
You winning meant anything and everything, including power over Paige. That's how she always was whenever you guys had your little competitions (which she'd usually win) due to her competitive nature, and now it was your turn to be the winner.
"Oh, you're so fucked!" you exclaimed, reveling in your victory.
a/n: i love all the new paige fics on here sm!! what do you guys think about this part.. lmk, inbox me, message me, comment wtv i love all ❤️
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doomedmoth · 2 days
Text
Better kind of best friend (part 2)
Pairing : Reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux x Charles Leclerc | Poly & bisexual fem!reader
Warnings : slight emotional cheating, obsessive/possessive/manipulative behavior, suggestive content/smut, fluff then angst then dark fluff, inaccurate racing calendar and school programs, polyamory, use of y/n, slight dacryphilia
Synopsis : When you left the UK for a year long art restoration program in Monaco, you mainly wanted to make some friends. What you didn't expect was to find your best friend on the first day. And then fall in love with her. And then get tangled in the web of Monaco high society as her boyfriend came back to town, unaware of your little affairs. What the fuck happened to you, you just wanted to make some friends...
Moth's prophecy💡 : Hi cryptids ! Thank you for being so supportive, here is the awaited part two with the arrival of Charles ! You can find part one here if you haven’t read it yet. For the sake of it being easier to read for everyone, the dialogues between Alex and Charles are written in English, even though they would speak French between them. We got some angst, we got some very light suggestive content, we got some manic episodes, and that should leave us with the tasty fucked up shit for the last (two lasts ?) chapters. Enjoy !
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“Y/N… I’m sorry I…. I have a boyfriend…”
In a fraction of second, the room felt very cold. You suddenly took into account the breeze from the open window, and the uncomfortable scratch of the hair curlers against your scalp, itching to get off. The taste of red wine on your tongue started to feel like a thick paste, making it hard to breathe, and as you got up and away from Alexandra, your head spun, as if you had been hit by a ton of bricks. You needed some air.
“Wait !” Alexandra tried to hold your hand, bring you back down to the ground, but her fingers felt like fire against your skin, and not the enjoyable type. You tried to get away, so she rose up, closing the gap to you. “Please, listen to me… I’m sorry, I know I should have told you earlier…”
You could barely make out her voice with the sounds of the street below her apartment. And why was she looking at you like that, like a deer caught in headlights, like… Like she pitied you ? You felt sick.
“Yeah… Yeah, you should have.” You probably should have felt embarrassed yourself. Shameful you even tried something. But you quickly realized the sickness you felt was not due to shame or sadness, but anger. Two full months had passed, and not more than a day or two had gone by where you hadn’t been together. “Not once, in two months, did you think of mentioning it ?”
You heard yourself as if someone else was speaking. Thoughts swirling in your mind, replaying each of her words and action. Had you missed a hint somewhere ? Were you in the wrong here ? You could replay the movie a hundred times and still, you were sure you would find no flaw. All the nights she had fell asleep in your arms, all the kisses she had peppered your skin with, all the touches and the petnames, now you could see clearly how inappropriate they would have been for anyone with a boyfriend.
“I know, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Her breathing got heavier and tears started coming to her eyes, yet you had never felt so little pity towards someone. “I didn’t want it to change what we have, and it all got so confusing so quickly for me, I…”
“Because it wasn’t confusing for me ?” You raised your voice at her. You probably should not have, but she had just half-admitted to knowing her behavior had crossed some boundaries. “Please tell me you are in an open relationship. Please Alex… tell me you haven’t just lied to me.” You were pleading, begging. Don’t they say bargaining is one of the five stages of grief ? But her silence and shameful eyes gave you every answer you needed.
“I didn’t lie I… I just didn’t talk about it…”
“It’s the same fucking thing !” Definitely pushing her arms away from you, you started to gather your things from the floor of her living room. Thankfully, you hadn’t changed into your pajamas yet, you thought, or the scene would have been even more embarrassing.
“I didn’t know what to do !” Tears now rolling down her pink cheeks, she was following you around, words tumbling down in a rush to get her point across. “It all happened so quickly and he’s not home and you… You’ve been everything to me, please trust me ! Y/N, please stop !” She tugged at your arm once more, and cupped your face between her hands. Still crying, she planted a soft kiss on your lips, trembling, but this time, you were the one who pulled away. “I’ve never felt this way for a girl before… I’ve never had feeling like this for another woman, or anyone truly and-“
“Oh no.” You immediately cut her off and took two steps back. “No, this is not happening.” Throwing your things in your bag in a hurry, you couldn’t even look at her anymore or else you were sure you would end up either giving in or spitting to her face. “I am not about to be your little uni experiment, your fucking distraction before you go back to the safety of a man’s arms.”
Putting your bag on your shoulder and throwing her curlers to the floor, you gave her one last look, filled with all the anger and disappointment you could muster. So that was it, then ? Fuck it, even crying she was pretty. She had fallen back down to her knees and for a second, you saw yourself laying above her, kissing her wet cheeks, brushing her hair. Maybe you could have her for a night, a few days, a parenthesis of happiness until the man returned. It could not last, but it could exist. Scraping the last bits of this relationship like the bottom of a candle, and you would keep the remnants of it in a secret part of your brain until the year ended. But you knew the pain would be too much. And it wasn’t why you came here in the first place.
“I know what I’m worth, Alex. And I’m worth more than that.”
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“Ah cazzo per l’amor del cielo Y/N !” You hid yourself deeper under the cover of your bed as Chiara barged in your room. “Get out !” She pulled on the blanket, as you sighed and whined, too tired to fight. The ginger girl crouched next to you, eyes pleading. “Please make her leave, she’s been knocking on the door since we kicked her out and we can’t close, Marco forgot his keys.” She took one of your hand in hers to help you sit on the edge. “If you don’t, I honestly can’t promise she won’t come in during the night and I actually want to sleep for once. So please. Go.”
You nodded bashfully as she left the room, visibly annoyed. For two weeks now, all eight other students had had to deal with the awkward mood your friendship breakup had installed in the workshop. And that implied, unfortunately for your roommates, Alex coming in at unholy hours, begging to be heard. It was honestly a miracle no one had told you two to fuck off until now.
You pushed the curtains back as quietly as possible, peeking through the window at the entrance of the house. And indeed, there she was, banging on the door. You rolled your eyes and got up to put a coat over your pajamas. In your closet, not-so-well hidden, the scarf she had left you not long before it all went to shit… Your fingers brushed slightly over it, but you left it in place, and headed down the stairs. In the smallest living room, sipping tea and glancing at you, were your two German roommates. You mouthed a “sorry” at them, and opened the door, immediately pushing Alex away from it.
“Stop it before they call the cops on you.” You crossed your arms and took a good look at her. Fiddling with the worn-out sleeves of a sweater your recognized as yours, she looked exhausted. Dark circles under her eyes, hair a mess, she was far from the walking ray of sunshine you had known. You sighed, and started walking towards the parking lot a bit further down the main path, where you knew she had probably parked. “Come. We’ve bothered them enough.”
She followed without making a sound, her head down. You recognized her car, and sat on the small low wall facing it. She tried to sit next to you, but when she felt you move away, decided to stay up. You looked at each other for a while, your silence only interrupted by a few night birds’ chirps and the waves down in the bay.
Two weeks had passed since what you called in your head “the accident”. And if you had trouble living with the aftermath, Alexandra was taking it even worse than you. In order to protect yourself and allow to maybe, one day, recover something good from it, you decided to keep your interactions strictly confined to the subject of the workshop. Considering your two roles had very little to share at this point of the project, it meant that you were pretty much free to ignore her without being too much of a bitch. And lord knew it would have been too hard to stay mad at her with extended contact. Even right now, as she raised her doe eyes at you, you could feel your confidence faltering.
When you were alone in your bed at night, cuddling the plushie she had won you at the funfair, that was when you questioned if you were doing the right thing. After all, she had not promised you anything. You had lived in fantasies, daydreams of a romance carefully crafted by your need for love. Maybe she was like that with all of her friends. Maybe you could go back to being friends.
But no. She had confessed to knowing. To lying. To having feelings too. There was no coming back from this. Only growth and lessons. And right now, this meant for you some space.
“Well, are you going to talk ?” She opened her mouth, then seemed to reconsider, and you groaned. “It’s already 10 and I’m freezing cold, if you got nothing to say I’m leaving.” You started to get up but she put her hands up.
“Wait ! Okay wait sorry, please stay…” You sat back down, closing your coat tighter. “Thank you. I… Okay hm. Putain. Bon.” She took an inspiration, and you knew this meant she was going to talk non stop until her mouth ran dry. “I’m sorry about everything that happened, from our meeting to tonight. I fucked up. I omitted things and I lied and I did everything I could to stay in your good graces because I grew so fond of you so quickly I didn’t know how to deal with it. I really thought we could be best friends and you know I’ve never been really good with girl friendships I told you about it and I admit I may have crossed the line a bit, once or twice but-“ You could not help but scoff. “What ?”
“Sorry, please do go on”
“No, what, tell me ?” She raised her hand to you, and you did not take it.
“Once or twice ? A bit ?” Her lips started trembling and you stopped her before she could start talking again. “Alex. Friends don’t do any of the shit we did. Friends probably don’t sleep almost naked together and cuddling ! God damn it, you hand-fed me pastries in my bed, and you think that’s a little over the line ?” You heard yourself screaming and tried to take a deep breath, but the freezing air only made your lungs hurt even more.
“I’m sorry ! I wish I could tell you I didn’t know but…” She was shaking, from stress or the cold, you did not know. Finally she raised her eyes, and you felt like she was going to be honest, with herself and you, for the first time in weeks. “But the truth is I knew. I knew there could be something more and I wanted it too. I… I think I still want it. But there’s-“
“There’s your boyfriend. Honestly Alex, with all due respect, fuck off. How can you tell me that straight in the eye ? I’m not some homewrecker, and to be completely honest with you” You got up and took a step forward, pushing your index finger against her shoulder. “Even if you guys broke up I wouldn’t want anything with you.” Wow. Nice lie. But at least it seemed to hurt her in all the right places. “You should have experimented back when you were single like everyone else. You played with my feelings, knowing them and knowing we had no chance at anything serious. I did not have a say in this !” At this point you were very thankful you were the only house around, because you were fully screaming. “All I wanted was to make some fucking friends Alex ! And no friend in their right mind would have done what you did to me. So please, if you have nothing more than empty apologies and more pain to offer… please leave.”
“I really like you.” She breathed out the words in a whisper, and it broke the last loose screw of your sanity.
“And I love you !” There. Out it was, your great love confession, blown away by the wind of the sea, destined to forever belong only to the cries of the seagulls. In the end, it wasn’t so hard to say. “But sometimes it’s not enough. Love isn’t enough.” Turning your back to her, you thought this was truly the end. Nothing was salvageable from that night. “Goodnight Alexandra.”
You almost ran back up the parking lot to the gate of the house, through the living room now empty, and up the stairs. You were about to enter your room, but went to the one to your left, Chiara’s. Her window was opened and she was sitting on the edge of it, smoking a joint. Of course, she had heard everything.
“Trouble in paradise ?”
“Fuck off.” You went next to her, taking the joint from her hands. From her seat, she had had a direct view of the whole scene, sound and light.
You took a drag, almost immediately coughing. The weed was disgusting, not half as good as the one you were used to, and Chiara gave you a look of approval, a kind of “it’s the only thing I could find”. Without knowing how or why, you broke down in tears.
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When Charles finally hung up from his phone call with his manager, he raised his eyes to see that the taxi had already entered Monaco. The morning light was piercing through the clouds, shining on the wet pavement as to signal the end of the week-long downpour.
Finally home, he thought. He could not wait to be back at his apartment, and enjoy the rare two and a half weeks break before the last races of the year. The flight had been so long, his whole body was still sore from yesterday’s race, and still he was excited for the day to come. He would come home, and have Alexandra greeting him as usual, full of anecdotes and gossips to share. He would give her the gifts he had prepared, and then they would order from the Chinese restaurant they loved. Eat together, chill a bit, probably have sex. Then tomorrow they would go to his mom’s, take the opportunity to get a haircut, and maybe see some friends. He grinned at the perspective of a few days unplanned, going with the flow. Those were so rare nowadays.
The excitement made him tip the driver even more than usual, and he went up the stairs running, his bags almost scattering on the floor multiple times. But as he opened the door, still smiling, his excitement quickly faded. The apartment was completely empty, as if no one had been in it in weeks. He entered carefully, calling for Alexandra, but no answer. Every room still smelled of cleaning products, proof that except for the cleaning lady last Wednesday, it had been desert of any life.
Charles, starting to worry, tried calling his girlfriend multiple times, to no avail. So he threw all of his bags in the bedroom, changed his sweater, took his car keys and double of hers and decided to go check her own apartment. She was never in it, but maybe something had happened ? Thankfully, word hadn’t yet gone out that he was back, which means he was able to get his car out and through Monaco’s streets without any trouble.
The sight when he opened her door was even worse than at his own place. The usually immaculate apartment was in a mess, clothes everywhere on the floor, dishes piling up in the sink, and a good amount of paper bags from food orders scattered across the kitchen. In all of this, a few sobs could be heard.
“Alex ? Mon amour, where are you ?” Charles called out, voice cracking with concern as he navigated the mess in the apartment, searching for any sign of his girlfriend.
Finally, he found her curled up on the couch, hidden under a blanket, desperately sobbing and shaking as she held close a huge plushie he did not recognize. Charles rushed to her side, dropping to his knees next to the couch and wrapping his arms around her. She immediately pulled him in closer, drenching his sweater in tears.
“Hey, hey breathe love… what’s wrong, tell me what’s going on ?” He murmured and tried to hold her face to his, but she would always push back against his neck.
He finally managed to cup her cheeks and started to kiss her face, repeating again and again that she had to breathe. He honestly did not know what to do, he had never seen her so vulnerable, so… broken ? His heart shattered at the mere thought of what could have brought her to this point.
“I- I fucked up Charles…” Alexandra chocked out, her voice breaking in uncontrollable sobs. If she had managed to talk, she would now not let go of his arms, and Charles winced as she buried her nails in them.
“Baby tell me what happened, it can’t be that bad, it’s okay we’ll manage…”
Suddenly Alex’s eyes stayed fixated on Charles’, and her tears calmed down, along with her erratic breathing. She seemed to realize something, and started apologizing profusely. When she managed to talk again, Charles was completely lost as to what had happened.
“I’m sorry… it’s nothing, it’s just… It’s Y/N” Charles nodded. He was actually pretty excited to come back also for you, the mysterious new friend of Alex which she wouldn’t stop teasing him about. She supposedly wanted him to meet you, and Charles had been witness to so many attempts from Alex at making girl friends, he was glad she had finally managed. You seemed like a good person, from what he heard. “We… we got into an argument. We’re not friends anymore. It was my fault and it’s over.”
Charles’ brows furrowed as he helped Alex get out of the blanket. That was it ? Sure, you had seemed like an good friend to Alex, but she had lost a few friends along the way growing up, and none had ever provoked such an extreme reaction. He glanced around the room again, at the state of the whole apartment. But when his eyes landed back on Alexandra, he could feel the plea on her face to not dig much more.
Of course there was more to it. But what kind of friend’s argument would lead to someone completely breaking down like that ?
As Charles held his girlfriend to his chest, rubbing her back and slowly calming her down, he glanced at her phone, and decided he would probably get more directly from you.
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Well shit, it was fancy. As you entered the restaurant in the most luxurious part of Monaco, you started to really regret your choice of clothing. Even the lady in charge of welcoming clients eyed you up and down before raising a brow, clearly not impressed.
“I have a reservation ? Well someone invited me, his name’s Charles ?” You could feel yourself blushing as she gauged you.
She then gestured for you to wait to the side as she left towards the back of the restaurant. When she came back, it was to tell you to follow her.
Hidden behind the bar, far from any windows, were a few booths, carefully covered with flower arrangements and ivy leaves curtains. In the one you followed the lady to, a man was sitting, probably around your age, with light brown hair and piercing green eyes. Some curls were falling down on his forehead, and when he raised his head and smiled at you, dimples immediately appeared. Of course he was cute. Of course she had to have a gorgeous boyfriend too.
“Y/N ! Am I pronouncing it right ?” He stood up and thanked the lady, then gestured you to sit in front of him. You nodded and sat back down with him. “So nice to finally meet you ! I’ve heard so much.”
You couldn’t say the same, unfortunately, and the chuckle that left your mouth couldn’t have been repressed even if you tried.
You thanked him, and as he gave you time to scan the menu, you could not prevent yourself from stealing glances. He was dressed pretty casually too, which made you feel better about your own outfit, but you got the same feeling from him as you did from Alexandra when you first met her. There was something rich about the man, luxurious, in the way he presented himself, smiled and talked. And god, the more you looked at him, the more you could tell why she had fallen in love with him. This was the kind of guy you only ever saw in magazines, too pretty to be true. You felt yourself getting dizzy, and put your attention back on the menu. You were probably tired and in need of caffeine, why else would you feel so weak ?
Yet you had no idea he was doing the exact same thing, going over every little detail of your face and posture in his head. He had heard from you, sure, but not as much as he told, and most importantly, he had never seen you, even in pictures. Nothing could have prepared him, honestly. There was something about you, he wasn’t sure if it was physically or in the way you held yourself, that made his heart flutter. Suddenly he felt a bit shy, and completely unable to stop peeking at you. But he quickly reminded himself of why he was here, and chased his thoughts as far away as possible.
“Thank you for coming, first of all.” You gave him a polite smile and thanked the waiter for your coffee. “I’ll be honest with you, especially on the matter of why Alex isn’t here.” There it was. You shifted in your seat, a bit uncomfortable. The closest exit was in sight, thankfully, in case he made a scene or started to threaten you. You had no idea what he knew, and it scared you a bit. “I… I came home two days ago. And Alex was…” He sour laughed, and started playing with his spoon. “A mess. I think it’s the best way to say it. I tried to make her talk but… only thing she gave away is that you two had an argument ? And that it was her fault. But I’ve never seen her like that before. I… I would like, if you don’t mind, I’d like to know what happened.”
Oh shit. So she hadn’t told him anything. Well of course, lie by omission seemed to be her thing. Were you really about to be the one to break the news to her boyfriend, who by the way seemed like a sweetheart, that her girlfriend had almost cheated ?
He gave you an encouraging smile, and you gripped your cup tighter. Why did they have to look so much alike. Everything about him was warm, kind, you could not hurt him even if you tried. What would it bring you, to do that ? Break them up ? And then what ? She was too out of it to do anything good with herself on her own. He seemed like a good person. And you were not a home wrecker. Sure, you didn’t work out. But maybe they could. You were the problem, she hadn’t fully cheated, she still had a chance at fixing up her couple. Who would you be to deny her.
“I don’t have much more to say honestly. We had a disagreement, one of which you can’t work through sometimes. It’s okay.” You gave a forced smile, and Charles was confident in that instant that there was more to it. This kind of painful conclusion, he knew them too well.
“Are you sure ? You seem upset.” You crossed your arms and he felt like he had maybe pushed too far.
“Yes. It’s been tough but I’ll get through it, and Alex will too. Maybe we’ll work it out, maybe we won’t, that’s our problem I’m afraid. Sorry you had to deal with the aftermath.”
You saw in his pinched lips, in the way his eyes scanned you, that he wanted to press further. But you wouldn’t be the truth bearer. You had done enough. Alex’s commitment to honesty would be his only way of finding out. And it seemed he realized it, because he nodded, and thanked you.
You thought you were done, but he shifted the conversation to lighter topics, your life in Monaco, how the workshop was going. He seemed really interested, and you realized you hadn’t made as much friends as you wished because of your closeness with Alex. So you gave in to the attention. And you realized you craved it, especially when it came from people who seemed a life away from you.
“What about you ? Out of state often, I understood ?”
“Why don’t you take a guess ?” He rested his face on his closed knuckles, and you closed the gap to him, faking analyzing his face. This made him chuckle, and his laugh tugged at your heart in ways you weren’t sure you liked.
“You don’t look like a business man.” He faked an offended face, then winked. Were all monegasques raised to be teases ? “Out often and comfortable with money ? We’re in a private booth where the staff seems to know you… I’d say an athlete maybe ?”
“Bingo !” He made his spoon ring on the rim of your cup, and sat back against his chair. There was a coolness in the way he moved and talked, something mesmerizing.
You thought he was collected. Truth is, thoughts raced through his brain at light speed and the more you talked, the less he listened. If there was something they had always agreed on was with Alexandra, it was that being in a relationship did not mean you found everyone but your partner disgusting suddenly. They were honest about their admiration for other’s looks and personalities, both convinced it was part of the human experience. And so he tried to persuade himself that this meeting was just that, another girl he just found pretty. And interesting. With a smooth voice. And nice fingers. Whose hair would probably look gorgeous laid out on his pillows. And fuck, he thought. That was not good. Not good at all.
Before he would start blushing again, mind filled with unholy pictures, he decided it was time to leave. You were a bit surprised at the abruptness of it, but agreed, you had things to do too. As you stood up, he looked a bit embarrassed.
“I know it might sound weird but… would you mind waiting a minute before leaving ? Giving me a head start.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and laughed. “Everything’s already paid for I’m not trying to scam you ! Just… I think it’s better for you if we don’t leave together.”
You furrowed your brows, not really understanding the request, but sat back down. You were too tired to fight about that.
“Thanks, you’re a dear. You have my number, let’s stay in touch !” And just like that, he was gone.
When you left the booth two minutes later, as requested, you heard a commotion right outside the restaurant. You quickly walked through the crowd gathering on the side of the terrace and started leaving when something caught your attention. A kid, screaming a name you had heard not so long ago.
You walked a bit further down the square and looked back to see Charles in the middle of the crowd, being photographed by paparazzis and families, signing autographs and struggling to get out. When he finally did manage, he entered a slick black car which looked like a million pounds, and left without even glancing back at the crowd.
“Charles… Monaco… Athlete…”You entered the words in Google, and found him immediately. A Formula 1 Driver. A fan favorite, it seemed. “Alex you bitch you could have warned me that he’s famous…”
Still, his request had got you out of a very sticky situation, and you were grateful you would not find yourself in newspapers tomorrow. So you switched to your text messages, and sent to Charles a thanks for the heads up.
Unknowingly to you, he sat in his parking lot for ten minutes before going back to his apartment, staring at his screen and blushing like a teenager.
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Charles was tired. It had been more a week since his return, and Alexandra gave no signs of improvement, despite his tries. She would keep up the appearances in public, but made no effort at home, and avoided all friends or family gatherings he attended. And still, she would refuse to talk.
After he came back from having a drink with you, another one he did not tell Alexandra about, another one he had to sit out the excitement of in his car, another one that convinced him that you could be essential to making her feel better, because you made him feel good, he decided it was enough.
Alex was sitting on the couch, her plushie always glued to her, watching the cars go by. At least she had accepted to come back to his apartment. He brought her tea and took the plushie away from her, not without getting a whine in return.
“Alex, we need to talk.” She gave him her usual sad puppy eyes, but this time, Charles was decided to not let her manipulate him. “It’s gonna be okay, I’ll be here no matter what. But you have to tell me what happened. It can’t go on like that.” Finally she sighed and sat straighter on the couch, trading her sad eyes for the stone cold face she wore when he wasn’t around.
“Yeah you’re right.” She let out a shaky breath, betraying her anxiousness, then took Charles’ hands in hers. Finally, they would maybe be able to move on. Finally he might get back his lover. “I… I lied to you. About Y/N.” Obviously, thought Charles, and though he did not want to admit it, he had a small idea of why. She planted her eyes in his, and holding his hand tighter, finally said the truth out loud. “I never told Y/N about you. I never even told her I had a boyfriend. I should have been honest from the beginning, but it got confusing very quickly, and I didn’t want to ruin… I’d say our friendship but I know it was more than that.”
He knew it. It pained him to admit it, but he had had a feeling, and his instinct rarely lied. Now the only thing left was to find out how much had happened. Unable to speak up, he nodded to encourage her to keep going.
“I was scared of losing her and losing you. I told you about her because I thought if you two met, it would just be me and my two favorites people and everything would be great. I didn’t think further than that. But… but I knew she had feelings and I liked it, I liked having someone so… devoted to me.” That didn’t surprise him. Alex had always had a praise kink, worshipping her might be the fastest way to her heart. “And I guess I ended up falling for her too.”
As Alexandra’s voice became shakier, he knew he was touching the main subject. It was already a lot, he needed to process, but he needed the full picture for it.
“Mon coeur, I need you to be completely honest. Did something happen between you two ?” He saw her hesitating for a moment, before nodding, her gaze fixed on their hands still holding.
“Yes.” She admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “We kissed… I pulled away but I didn’t want to.”
Charles finally pulled his hands away from hers and got up. He felt hurt. Betrayed. Used. He had been kept in the dark both by his own girlfriend and you, truly the butt of the joke. Yet he felt empty of any anger. He looked at the little decorations in the living room. They would be so easy to smash. Probably satisfying. Yet when he brushed his fingers against it, he only managed to push them back in their exact place, all perfectly symmetrical. Strangely, it brought him more comfort than punching something.
“Are you not going to say anything ?” Her voice was still shaky, he could feel she tried very hard not to cry. And the only thing he wanted was for her to break down so he could hold her as close as possible and kiss her tears.
“What does this mean for us ?” He turned back to her, and she tried to hold his gaze.
“I don’t know… I’m in love with you. I know you probably want to tell me to fuck off but I need to say the truth. This has taken nothing from us, from what I feel for you. If anything, I’m finally feeling better now that you’re back. But I can’t deny that I had never thought about… about me, and another girl, like I did with her. I’ve never felt this way, it was like my heart was so full it could explode. I don’t know what I wanted from it Charlie, I… Nothing good could have happened, I fucked up, and I’ll do my best to make it up to you.” Finally, she lost it. Tears streaming down her face, she looked exhausted. “I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to hurt anyone. I can’t loose you I’ll do anything but I can’t live without you Charlie…”
Charles sat next to her and she threw herself in his arms, sobbing. He could not tell her. What would he even say ? “No worries baby, I can’t even manage to get angry at you for almost cheating because I think daily of fucking the friend you had a homoerotic codependent friendship with ?”. Or maybe “I wish I could focus on reassuring you that I’m still in love with you but telling you you’re pretty when you cry is not a compliment my mom taught me ?”. In the end, he opted for kissing the top of her head and softly stroking her back.
“Okay Alex okay… calm down… We’re gonna manage…” He gave her hand a squeeze, and drying some tears with a finger, kissed her cheek. “We’ll get through this together.”
Unfortunately for Charles, Alexandra’s moods swings came back full force, and soon enough she was back to shaking in his arms, this time from despair, hands clenched into fists on her knees.
“Why… why are you so calm about this ?” She demanded, voice trembling and brows furrowed. “I’ve just confessed to kissing someone and you act like it’s no big deal !”
Charles knew all of this, knew he should be angry, and he barely stopped himself from chuckling when he looked at the little statues he wanted to smash against the floor earlier. But he felt a strange sense of understanding and compassion which only made him calmer the more he let in his own fucked up thoughts.
“It’s not that I’m not upset, mon coeur.” Charles said softly, choosing his words carefully. “I just think maybe now’s not the right time to talk about this. You’re clearly exhausted and you’ve already been very honest with me. You need to rest. And I need to process some things.”
She agreed, her shaking slowing down once more, and he finally convinced her to have a shower and get to bed. She did so without arguing more, and Charles went on his balcony, completely worn out. When he opened his phone, he was greeted with a message that made his heart jump once more.
“Thx again for the evening, it was so fun ! Hope you got home safely, xoxo”
Looking at the light of his bedroom that just turned on, he chose not to answer. The rollercoaster had been enough for today, he needed a rest too.
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Though he had struggled, Charles had managed to convince Alexandra he had no intent of breaking up with her, and even that going with him to the second to last race would do her good. The weather was still good in Qatar, she could see the girls, get spoiled and pampered. He knew it would take time to get her back, and maybe she would never be exactly the same. But he wouldn’t stop trying.
On your side, you had been forced to retreat to your bedroom with your computer as none of your roommates seemed to enjoy having the race on the living room main screen at 6 in the morning. You did not care much yourself, Charles had tried to explain some basic things to you before he left but none of it was familiar for someone like you who didn’t even have her driving licence. Still, supporting friends, right ? It felt weird to call him a friend. Just as it had felt weird for Alex. You groaned, thinking that each time, you had been the problem. Why couldn’t you be attracted to anyone else in the whole country ?
When your eyes laid back on the screen, you got reminded why. Because in his fireproof suit, sweating and winking at the camera, you had to scratch your brain with a knife to even think back of any men with as much charisma. Because his skin was soft and his hair smelt good, you knew it and you wouldn’t dare to say how. Because seeing behind him in the interview the girl you still were in love with did not diminish your attraction in the slightest. If anything, you almost threw your computer to the ground when the thought of what they looked like together kissing came to your mind.
When you came out of the bathroom, a few hours later, your phone was ringing. You answered with a smile to the man whose voice was filled with both exhaustion and excitement.
“Hey Charles ! Nice race out there !”
“Did you manage to follow everything ?”
“I did not remember shit of what you told me !” You laughed, and heard him do the same. “But you finished third ! That’s good in any sport, right ?”
“Yeah, good enough we’ll say, could have done better though.” You pictured him as he spoke, hands scratching the nape of his neck, a little smirk making his dimples appear. “Thank you for watching. I appreciate it.”
He sat on the side of his hotel bed, smiling like a child. He didn’t even know why he called you. He had plenty of people around to congratulate him. Yet it was always nice to know someone far thought of him.
“Charles…” Your voice was suddenly tinged with concern. You had seen the polite smiles and waves to the press. But you knew her, and you knew it had not gotten better. And you were done being the big girl, you needed to know. “Is Alex ok ? I’ve seen her on TV and she looks… well you know. Still not herself.”
He got back up and walked to the window, thinking of what to say. Though you had kept in touch since your first meeting, he hadn’t told you of Alex’s confession. Maybe it was time.
“Yeah… It’s been rough for her, hm… Y/N I’ve been made aware of some things and… now’s not the right time, but when we’re back in Monaco, with Alex, I think… I think we should have a talk, the three of us.”
Your heart jumped at the suggestion, guilt eating you out. So he knew. You looked at the stairs, echoes of your roommates’ laughter coming from downstairs. Yeah, you really needed some new friends, before you were about to loose another one.
“I- I’ll be there.” Charles thanked you and ended the call, promising to keep you updated. As he turned around, his own guilt trip was waiting for him in the form of Alexandra, who had just entered the room.
He braced himself for an argument. The new information of him talking to her… whatever you were for her, would surely trigger confusion, and anger. She would tell him that he was not better than her. She would probably put the blame on you. Would she try to hit him ? Mind drifting completely elsewhere, he thought it would be fun to see her try, before punching himself mentally to focus. But when she finally spoke, nothing could have prepared him.
“It’s not fair.” Her voice was breaking but she wasn’t crying, fists clenched. “It’s not fair that she’s not talking to me ! Why won’t she talk to me anymore !” She wasn’t upset because he had been talking to you. She was jealous your attention had been shifted to someone else. And as she paced around the room, Charles sat on the bed, thinking that the manic episode was about to start. “I miss her. I need her.” She came close to him and the way she held his shoulders and forced him to look her in the eye both scared and excited him. “And if my only way of getting her back is you, you best believe I’m taking my chances.”
As the day went on and Charles witnessed the evolution of his girlfriend’s almost-psychotic episode, he thought that maybe some of her ideas weren’t so bad. In the end, he wasn’t the only one who had been a little too obsessed with you recently. What if the way out of this for them, as a couple, was simply to give in ?
So he confessed to everything. Listened. Gave his opinion. Kissed every centimeter of skin he could and agreed with every idea she moaned out loud as she bounced up on him. And when she fell asleep in his arms, smiling, Charles thought that the price to pay for a ray of sunshine wasn’t so bad.
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Something had changed. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly what, but you felt as if you were nothing more than an antelope being hunted in one of those wildlife documentaries you used to watch as a child.
Why had you even dressed up ? The dress wasn’t comfortable and way too light for December, your hair was tied too tight, but at least the staff didn’t look down on you this time. When Charles said you looked gorgeous, you thought it was not so bad, and sat straighter.
It was your first time seeing the two of them together somewhere else than on pictures. They were dressed to the nines, and matching perfectly, from the black velvety outfits to the silver of their jewelry. It seemed Alex had finally managed to sleep, because she looked as good as the first day, as good as the hot summer nights, as good as the time you kissed her. Charles was keeping on his hand on her thigh, and everytime he squeezed her, you felt like you were about to faint.
You tried to be cautious. Ordering alcohol to calm your nerves had probably not been the best idea, because at some point you weren’t able to remember if their voice had always been this sultry or if you were already tipsy.
They had apologized, both of them. Alex in great details, and this time you let her talk. To be honest, you were tired. It had been long enough. You missed your friend. When she said out loud every thought that ran through your head, your last arguments all flew away. Had the two of you not suffered enough ? Had Charles not been a great meeting ? There was so much more she wanted to share with you, and you only managed to whisper littles “yes”. She would be better, she said. She promised. The best of best friends.
And so when she touched your hand, you did not retreat. And when the both of them asked you what you thought, all red smiles and white canines, you barely managed to breath out.
“Yes, sure… let’s try being friends again.”
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Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3
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Taglist : @sam-is-lost // @mangotaitai // @ilovechickenwings // @eroselless // @zreads111 // @crimson-spine // @inejismywife // @champomiel // @seoulie101 // @charizznorizz // @exactlycoralfox // @waitwhendidwegethere // @cluelessred3
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evenyvn · 12 hours
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—been thingking of highschool sweetheart! aventurine x childhood friend! reader
cw ;; gn reader, sfw, reader has mastered in unintended rizz, and aventurine is down bad.
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hs sweetheart! aventurine who's also your childhood friend, you both have zero social skill back then but your parents are friends so you two just naturally bonded together.
hs sweetheart! aventurine who's always been in love with you since you gave him "a really cool looking rocks" back at the kindergarten (he still keep them somewhere), he thank you shyly with his red chubby cheeks and promised you that he will give you something in return.
hs sweetheart! aventurine who's always been your only bestfriend through kindergarten to highschool years, even when he gained alot of friends and became really popular on school you're still his top one priority.
hs sweetheart! aventurine who will walk you home and hold your hand (if you're okay with that) and says "isn't this what best friends do?" as an excuse while his heart is hammering against his chest, holding the urge to just hug you tightly.
hs sweetheart! aventurine who will always treat you lunch, if you bring a lunch box he'll pout because he wanted to spoil you but ended up asking for your foods anyways and yes, you always feed him because he won't eat if you don't.
hs sweetheart! aventurine who will blush and deny when his other friends teases him about you, topaz making a joke about someone will totally snatched you away from him one day if he don't act fast, while ratio sigh and mentally slaps his head knowing well you're down bad to aventurine as he is to you.
hs sweetheart! aventurine who will flushed from your unintended rizz, like when you cover the edge of a table with your hand when he went down to pick up his dropped pen, bringing him his own lunch box because he keeps eating yours, or letting him pick whatever movie you will watch for your movie hangouts together, this dude will literally get rizzed by anything you do.
hs sweetheart! aventurine who will rambles about you to topaz and ratio making them sigh tiredly, everyone on school knows how in love you two, but none of you will confess because both of y'all are cowards lmao. someone literally yell "just kiss already!" during PE when you pull aventurine away from getting hit by a stray ball, and you both just STARE at each others for a few seconds before going back like nothing happened (a k-drama worthy scenario fr).
hs sweetheart! aventurine and you have a special hangout routine once or twice a week, where's it's just the two of you going out or just chilling and watch movie at home. literally looks like a date from other people perspective but again, you both just deny it "can't two bestfriends just hangout with each others?" yea sure.
i might or might not write a whole fanfic about this lmao
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✦ likes and reblogs are very appreciated! ♡
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mncxbe · 3 days
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EYES DON'T LIE
𝑭𝒚𝒐𝒅𝒐𝒓 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈•゚。𝒂/𝒏: the new chapter hello?? i loved it so much. tbh i never know how to write fyodor but oof i just had to. anyway, hope you like it. cw: mild angst, fyodor being a softie, bsd spoilers
It's been weeks since you last saw those deep, violet eyes, weeks since Fyodor was taken, once again, to a far away place. was he back in Russia again? or maybe he was still in Japan, hiding in one of his safehouses, or maybe this time he was actually dead. he never told you anything before leaving, so you're left wondering and during those cold, sleepless nights that's all you have: your haunting thoughts.
despite your worry, you miss him dearly. you miss threading your fingers through his raven hair at night, listening to him talk about little nothings– his cold fingertips tracing patterns on your skin. "you know i love you, right?" you'd ask and he'd smile, ruffling your hair. "i know, myshka. and i do too" if he knows you love him, why does he always leave you behind like this?
worry consumes you, your mind firing images of his body laying in some makeshift grave at the side of the road, of Nikolai showing up at your doorstep, telling you that your lover wasn't coming back. you try your best to push these thoughts away, to lock them somewhere in an imaginary drawer in the back of your mind but they keep coming back. especially at night
fighting back tears, you roll over to the side and gaze out the window, searching for a distraction, but the painfully empty side of the bed next to you serves as a cruel reminder of your predicament. you turn to the other side, pulling your knees up to your chest and reaching for the pillow that served as his replacement during the past few weeks. the material feels soft against your skin as you bury your face in it and inhale deeply. there's only a faint trace of his scent left, but it's enough to bring back all the memories you have together, so you hug the pillow closer to your chest, holding onto it as if it's your lifeline and you cry and cry and cry.
you don't even realize that you fell asleep until the sound of your bedroom door sliding open wakes you from your slumber. you stir, propping yourself up on your elbow as your eyes flutter open. it's hard to see anything through the darkness of the room, but you manage to make out the contour of a person at your doorstep. "um... hello?" you ask warily, shifting closer to the edge of the mattress. but all your worries slip away when you recognize the voice of the man before you.
"that's an awful reaction to waking up to a man inside your room, myshka" the person muses, stepping into the sliver of light that seeped inside the bedroom through the window. despite your hazy vision, you can make out some of the man's features– the thin line of his lips, the arch of his brow and those piercing violet eyes you'd recognize in a thousand lives. Fyodor, he's back.
"fedya..." you say weakly, too stunned by his sudden appearance to muster up anything else. for a moment, it occured to you that you were dreaming, but the pressure in your skull and the stinging feeling in the back of your throat serve as proof that you're wide awake. you watch him slowly making his way towards the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he sits next to you.
with a deft hand, Fyodor brushes the stray strands of hair from your face, tucking them behind your ear. "i missed you, my love" he smiles and you know the voice belongs to him but you have the feeling something changed.
his touch feels strange, foreign, his fingers are more calloused and he seems... taller? the clothes he's wearing are different too but they somehow fit him perfectly. a cold shiver runs down your spin and you feign away from his touch, clutching the duvet.
a twinge of pain flashes across Fyodor's features at your reaction. of course, you didn't know yet. he never confided in you about his ability. still, he hoped that you'd simply be happy to see him. "myshka..." he sighs, reaching for your hand and giving it a light, reassuring squeeze "it's me"
you're left dumbfounded by his words. how can it be him? that's not his body, not his scent, not his touch. "but... how?" you ask in that same strained voice and Fyodor's heart sinks. you're hurting, he can tell, you need time to adjust to this new discovery but he wasn't going to give that to you. he's been away for far too long and he was too selfish of a man to deny himself your comfort.
"my dear, i want you to trust me. i'll tell you everything tomorrow, but let's just rest tonight" he reassures you, discarding his black cloak on the floor before joining you in bed, his arms wrapping around your waist. you try to scoot away from his foreign embrace but he doesn't let you, shushing you with a chaste kiss to your temple. "don't run away from me. we've been apart for too long" he pleads and you comply, despite the nagging feeling of uncertainty.
your drowsiness is long gone now and you simply lay in his arms, trying to understand what's going on. your heart is telling you that this is Fyodor, but your rational mind has a hard time piecing together the puzzle. this body doesn't belong to him– he feels different, but it's somehow still him.
he's always warned you that you'll go through some weird things if you date him, but this certainly isn't something you expected. still, you're too worn out by countless sleepless nights and worries to think about this now, so you close your eyes, relaxing your body and mind.
as time passes, you ease into his embrace, finding solace in his closeness. in the dark of the night, you are once again listening to his velvety voice. he whispers apologies and i love you s, his hands carefully caressing your body and you're more and more convinced that it's truly him. if you think about it, though justified, your initial aversion was silly.
so what if he has a different body? it's still your Fyodor. you trust that he'll tell you everything tomorrow and you'll finally be able to put those agonizing weeks behind and go back to your life together. alas, hope. good days are about to come.
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Picture Perfect
Benedict Bridgerton x Reader
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Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)
Fandom: Bridgerton
Summary: Benedict's childhood best friend, who he's recently started courting, notices he's been a bit off lately and decides to see if there's anything she can do to help.
Word Count: 3,045
Category: Fluff, a little bit of Angst
A/N: It's been a minute since I rewatched season 2, so I may have the timing wrong a bit. For the purposes of this fic, though, Benedict finds out that Anthony paid to make sure he got into art school at the same time that they're all at the Bridgerton's country estate.
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
Something was wrong with my best friend.
I could tell from the minute I saw him, as his mind was clearly somewhere else. He also gave his brother Anthony a colder shoulder than usual, which I knew Anthony likely deserved, but that Benedict rarely gave him. It must've been something pretty bad.
A few years ago, I wouldn't have hesitated to drag Benedict somewhere and get some answers out of him, followed by doing whatever I could to cheer him up. But unfortunately for the both of us, despite having grown up together, now that we were both adults in society and he had recently started courting me, we were no longer technically allowed to be alone together. Things were usually a bit looser when it was just the Bridgertons and I, but while I'd joined them for a trip to their country estate, another family had joined us as well, tying my hands more than usual.
Still, I managed to corner him slightly away from the rest of the group after dinner that night, when I'd first noticed something off. He'd been on his way upstairs, rather than joining the rest of us in the parlor after dinner, and I managed to get in front of him quickly enough to make him stop in the hallway.
"Benedict," I said, trying to keep my voice low. He let out a long, deep sigh, but didn't move to step past me, instead fixing me with a tired stare. I frowned. "What's wrong?"
He shook his head. "It's... nothing."
I put my hands on my hips and raised an eyebrow.
"Benedict Bridgerton, I have known you since the age of five. There is no chance of that terrible lie convincing me of anything, besides perhaps that I made the right decision about checking on you."
He sighed again, this time even heavier, and when he met my gaze again it was with an empty smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"You remeber I shared my excitement with you about being accepted into art school?"
"Of course! Don't tell me something went wrong..."
He shook his head. "The opposite. Apparently my dear brother took it upon himself to make sure I got in, offering a bribe to secure my acceptance. Yet again, I fail to step out of my family's shadow and generate an accomplishment of my own, without their name and money securing it for me."
I frowned and reached out to touch his arm, but Eloise's voice from the other room promising to find where I'd wandered off to broke the moment. Benedict mustered that hollow smile again, then finally stepped around me.
"I'll be fine, I promise. Don't worry about me. Just go enjoy the rest of your evening."
I frowned after him, but he didn't look back as he climbed the stairs and disappeared onto the second floor. I briefly debated following him, but Eloise's hand on my elbow broke me from that thought.
"Y/N, what on earth are you doing out here? You're missing Kate and Anthony sparring over something trivial again."
I forced a smile onto my face that was hopefully more convincing than Benedict's and turned to face Eloise.
"Well, that's certainly something I don't want to miss. Let's go."
Eloise still looked like she had questions, but I didn't give her room to ask them as I joined the rest of our group in the parlor. Benedict stayed on my mind for the rest of the night, although I tried to hide my worry. Hopefully he'd been right about himself, and would be feeling better in the morning.
*****************
Benedict clearly wasn't feeling better in the morning. I was witnessing the man I loved having an existential crisis, and by the afternoon, I decided I couldn't sit by an watch anymore, society and the Ton and the gossips be damned.
I spent the next hour gathering and setting up the things I'd need, then went to find Benedict. He wasn't anywhere to be seen in the house, so I asked Eloise, who directed me to his bedroom.
I'd been in his bedroom before, of course, since we'd practically grown up together. But now that we'd started on the path to being something else to each other, with my heart registsering significantly more romantic feelings for the man Benedict had become, I found myself slightly nerovous as I stood outside his door. Still, I forced myself to ignore the nerves as best I could. Benedict was hurting, so everything else had to be put on hold while I helped him.
I knocked on his door, pretending my faster-than-normal heartbeat didn't exist as I waited for a response. That became much harder to accomplish when Benedict opened the door, his shirt far more open than normal and without anything over it, hair looking a rumpled mess. My heart did backflips, despite me mentally telling it to calm down.
"Y/N! I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting you. I must look a mess-"
"No, not at all!" I said much too quickly. "You look, uh... very nice."
The familiar lopsided smile I loved so much appeared on Benedict's face as he leaned on the doorframe before me. He raised an eyebrow, the familiar spark of mischief that I loved so dearly igniting in his eyes, and for the first time in more than a day, he looked to be slightly back to himself.
"Well, I'm very glad to hear you think so. What brings you to my door, then?"
"You haven't seemed to be doing very well since you got the news about Anthony. And don't try to deny it, I know you too well. So, I thought I'd come find you and try to help cheer you up."
Benedict's eyebrow rose again as he crossed his arms.
"And what exactly did you have in mind?"
"I'll show you. But we're going to have to be a bit sneaky about leaving."
Benedict's mood lifted the moment he found out we were going to sneak out of the house together. We'd been regular trouble makers as children, sneaking out for adventures at least once a week, but since we'd both grown up that had basically come to a stop. Now, as I took his hand and dragged him along behind me and we ran through the countryside and left Bridgerton House in our wake, I couldn't stop a wild laugh from bubbling out of my chest. I'd missed this much more than I'd wanted to admit.
"Where are we going?" Benedict called, his own voice breathy and laced with laughter as we ran. I just shot him a grin back over my shoulder.
"You'll see!"
He huffed, but didn't protest as he followed after me. Finally, after winding through the woods and climbing a rather steep hill, we reached the spot I'd spent so long making nice this morning.
This hilltop looked out over the countryside stretching beautifully below us, even better now as the sun had started to get a bit lower in the sky. Waiting for us was a picnic blanket spread out in the grass with all of our favorite foods, wine, and an easel with art supplies set up right next to it. I dropped Benedict's hand as we came to a stop, instead turning to face him with a grin.
"Well? What do you think?"
He stared at everything I'd laid out, mouth open slightly in shock. His brow furrowed when he saw the canvas, and he turned back to me.
"What is all this?"
"It's a picnic, for the two of us," I said. "To watch the scenery and the sunset together without the pressures of society or being a Bridgerton to bring us down. The easel is optional–we can pack it away right now if you want to. But you told me you think Anthony's the reason you got into art school, and I don't agree. I've seen your work, and I know just how good it is. You got in on merit, Benedict. But I know I can't just say that and have you believe it, so I brought some supplies here so you can prove it, if you want to. Paint this moment for the two of us, and I'll swear on our relationship and everything I hold dear to be honest about what I think. Completely, totally, brutally honest."
Benedict's eyebrow quirked again.
"Well, I don't know if brutal is completely necessary..."
"I mean it, Ben. I hate to see you like this, doubting yourself. So if there's something I can do to counter Anthony's idiotic meddling, I'd like to."
"And what if..." He cleared his throat, emotion swirling in his gorgeous brown eyes as he met my gaze. "What if the truth would only serve to enforce what I know? That Anthony's meddling and money is the only reason I've gotten where I am."
I shook my head. "That won't happen-"
"Y/N." I stopped, biting my lip and forcing myself to meet Ben's stare again. He took a few steps forward until we were right in front of each other, then took my hands gently in his own. "What if it does?"
I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. "Then I will keep my word and tell you so. One way or another, I will tell you the truth, even if it may not be what I want to tell you. I swear it, Ben."
He nodded slowly, eyes scanning my face. We stayed like that for a few long moments, and briefly, I thought Benedict might make a move to do something I never though he'd do with the Ton hovering over both our shoulders whenever we were together. But then he sighed, a smile returning to his face as he stepped away.
"Alright then. I believe you, and I value your opinion. And since you went to all the trouble to drag these supplies up here in the first place... I may as well get started."
I beamed at him. "I'll pour us some wine."
"Please."
When Benedict first sat down at his canvas, he kept fidgeting nervously, his hands hovering and twitching over various paints and brushes as he second-guessed his decisions. But slowly, as I kept up a stream of conversataion, supplying him with food and drink for fuel as he needed it, I noticed him beginning to relax.
"This is nice," I mused, leaning back on the picnic blanket and looking out at the scenery as Benedict worked. The sun had gotten much lower in the sky than when we'd left, which Benedict had grumbled about as it impacted his painting. Still, the golden light, soft breeze, and warm, fresh air felt like heaven to me.
"I agree," he said, not taking his eyes away from his easel. "I missed running off on adventures with you at the drop of a hat."
"So did I. But, hopefully... we may be able to get back to that again sometime soon."
Benedict looked over at me from his easel, a rougish grin on his face.
"If I didn't know better, Lady Y/L/N, I would think you were boardering on making me a marriage proposal."
I faced forward and closed my eyes under the guise of feeling the sun, trying to ignore my heart pumping frantically in my chest.
"Well. Fortunately for us both, you do know better. And it's not as if you're some strange man I met at court. You're... Ben. My best friend."
"I never said I wouldn't like it, did I? It would be an honor to be proposed to by you."
I cracked one eye open, turning my head to face Benedict with a grin. He wasn't looking at me, his stare focused on his canvas, his face completely serious. My heart stopped threatening to explode out of my chest, and instead settled into the unique, glowing warmth of love I felt whenever Benedict and I were together.
"I love you, Ben," I said, my voice soft and quiet. He stopped his work completely to turn and look at me, a soft smile on his face.
"I love you too. Very, very much." We held each others' stares for a moment, soaking in the comfort and joy of being together, and then Benedict's smile turned into a more edged grin. "It's a good thing we feel so strongly, since we may just be forced into an earlier marriage than planned to avoid a scandal after disappearing for an entire afternoon and evening together."
I huffed and waved him off. "Fortunately, I predict your brother will be accidentally helping us and making up for causing this crisis of confidence in the first place. He and Miss Kate Sharma are so ridiculous and dramatic together, I highly doubt anyone will notice we're gone."
Benedict chuckled, turning back to his work to scan it one last time before finally setting down his paintbrush. He took a deep breath, then stood and offered a hand to me.
"I've finished," he announced as I took his hand. He pulled my to my feet, but instead of looking at the painting, my eyes stayed fixed on him. We were almost chest to chest, and I could tell from his furrowed brows and darting eyes just how nervous he was about my verdict. "Remember, you promised me honesty."
"And honesty you will get."
Finally, I turned from Benedict to the canvas he'd been working on all afternoon. I'd resisted peeking before now at his request, so I wouldn't have any bias from watching his process. Fortunately, just as I'd predicted, his work was magnificent.
"Benedict..." I breathed as I took in the soft lines and vibrant colors before me. It perfectly captured how I felt looking out at the valley before us; it captured the gorgeous scenery, yes, but it also infused everything with a bit of magic that I only felt in this space with him. "This is absolutely incredible."
Benedict came around to stand next to me, arms crossed. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him shaking his head.
"Now please don't forget, you promised me honesty."
"I am being honest! Benedict, this is fantastic. The way you capture the myriad of different shades of the light shining across the valley, the seamless lines giving the world a slightly hazy, dreamlike look, and the way you've left the paint a bit messier with the clouds, to make it look like they're moving? It's all perfect, Ben. And masterful. It's a picture of the valley, yes, but it looks like it's alive. And you somehow managed to capture what it feels like to be here in the moment together, the sun on our faces, with each other even when we're not supposed to be, in a truly special way. You're an incredibly talented artist, and I'd be saying that even if you were a complete stranger that I didn't particularly like."
He snorted, then after a second, wrapped one arm around my waist and pulled me to his chest. I leaned into him immediately, sighing a bit as he leaned his head against mine.
"I have a hard time believing you'd say all that to a stranger you didn't like."
I rolled my eyes and elbowed him in the stomach, and he laughed without letting me go. A smile spread on my own face despite myself.
"Alright, maybe I wouldn't say all that to a stranger I didn't like. But I'd say it about their work when they couldn't hear me, probably to you. My point stands, Ben. You are a very skilled and talented artist. Anthony isn't the reason you got into that school. You are."
His chest rose and fell with a long, deep breath, and then finally, I felt him nod.
"Thank you. I can't promise it will always be easy for me to always believe it, but... I'll try to remember your words, and not my brother's, from now on."
"Good. And if you feel down again, you can always come to me. I'll always be there for you, Benedict, whenever you need me."
"And I you, my love," he said, moving down to whisper the words in my ear as he wrapped his other arm around my waist, too. He kissed my cheek, and I leaned back into his chest for a moment before turning around in his arms to face him.
The beautiful, kind smile I'd fallen in love with stared back at me, along with his warm brown eyes. I smiled too, then finally stopped ignoring my racing heart and decided to continue the theme of ignoring the Ton and what they might say.
I leaned into Benedict, closing the distance between us with a glance at his lips before meeting his eyes again. Both of his eyebrows shot up, but he didn't pull away.
"Y/N... if anyone found out..."
I smiled. "They won't. Besides, they'd just make us follow through on something we're already planning, anyway."
Benedict huffed a laugh, his eyelids fluttering a bit as he looked at me like he couldn't believe I was real. Then, his arms tightened around my waist, and he leaned in even closer. I closed my eyes, feeling Benedict stop just a hair's breadth away from my lips.
"Are you sure-"
I closed the distance myself before he could continue. Benedict smiled into the kiss a moment later, pulling me closer to him, the two of us locked in each others' embrace as the sun set in the hills behind us. Truly, I didn't think anyone would be able to find out about how we'd spent our afternoon, but I also truly didn't care. I loved Benedict, and even though it was technically early in our courtship, I'd known him for most of my life. I knew we were meant to spend our lives together, and I knew he felt the same way as I did. Sooner or later, we'd make it official with an engagement and marriage, and be able to disappear together whenever we wanted without the Ton batting an eyelash. But, in the meantime, I didn't mind sneaking away for private moments like this one bit. No matter what had led to it in the first place.
****************
Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989
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lovemomhatepolice · 2 days
Text
lando norris nswf alphabet (part 2!) (minors DNI!)
navigation taglist requests
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N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) There is no chance that Lando will ever in his life ask you for anal sex or agree to it. NO CHANCE. Ever since he first heard about it in his life, it has disgusted and disturbed him so much at the same time that he stands away.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Well, don't tell me Lando doesn't look like a munch. Totally do. Okay, he's also a big fan of you on your knees in front of him, until it takes his breath away as he looks at you all smeared with his cum with a wide smile and trained lips. But oh boy! Sam sometimes begs you to lie down in front of him and let him give you pleasure. The biggest plus is that Lando is well trained in this. Damn knows where he acquired such skills, but they are unearthly.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Fast, but not violent. It's already in Lando's nature to speed everything up, but it's not painful in the process. With the rest, slow sex is not for you. Well, I beg you, where would all the fun be? The whole process is a little slower when Lando finally pushes you to the wall and your relationship is not in any comfortable place, but he continues to try to keep his cool.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) You love quickies. What more can be said here? You can't keep your hands off each other, so every possible opportunity to get even closer is even advisable. You definitely prefer it more, of course, when you have more time (and, most importantly, space), but when there is no such chance, quick fun together is fine for you.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) Norris has it in him that he likes to take risks - he doesn't spare himself from hot kisses with you in public or even light pinches or pats on your buttocks. But if the matter comes down to sex, I don't think he's taking too many risks. Lando respects his privacy after all, so sexual matters remain between you. Possibly in front of the whole club when you come out of the restroom quite smudged and giggly. Or in front of his family, well. What goes in the family doesn't die, right?
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) As much as you want. Really. Lando I think is pretty darn sturdy and can fly several rounds at a time, which is no surprise to you. More than once, with light breaks, you spent the whole night like that. Sometimes it would even start to dawn and you would be in each other's naked embrace, the hot temperature of the room and a mass of giggles.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) No, he doesn't own any toys. He just doesn't have any - he's not a contrarian, he himself even bought his friend an inflatable doll for his birthday. In your relationship he would sooner use some on you, so 100%, if you own a vibrator, Lando will reach for it at some point and see how it works on you.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Lando is so damn teasing! Once he will rub up against you, once he will "accidentally" touch you somewhere, once he will whisper such ungodly things to you, and then he will leave without a word. And during sex? I beg to differ. If only he has the strength to do so, he will interrupt until the last moment before your climax, just to hear your voice admonishing him in the midst of your moans.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Ay Lando is loud. In every possible aspect of his life, so in bed too. If he doesn't talk during sex, you definitely won't have it quietly anyway. Norris often giggles, and when he's not giggling, he's pretty darn vocal. Oj this boy is definitely not afraid to moan and show that he feels like heaven thanks to you.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) He loves, well he so much loves to brand you. He gets the same way when you bestow a hickey on his neck. Raspberries on your breasts? That's the standard. In summer it's hard to hide the signs of love from Lando under dresses and short tops. But that's what he loves. He proudly shows off whether it's his neck or his chest.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) Well I think above average. Although Lando is not some particularly tall and massive, that's what his advantage is. I'm telling you that there's something about his pants that you don't expect ;P
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) God. Huge. As I mentioned before - you can't take your hands off each other. If you could, you would fuck each other every day. No matter what way - any way would be good. That's why yes, the sex drive Lando threw up when he first met you. And no matter what you do or what you're wearing! Remember
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Ay, it depends on the moment. Anyone who knows Lando knows well that he happens to fall asleep in the least expected places and circumstances. This is also the case after your sex, but by the fact that there are a lot of emotions in between, he has to talk them out first, and only then can he go to sleep. After proper after care on your part and his, you both fall asleep in each other's embrace (Lando on your breasts)
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A/N: part one if you miss it, english is my second language i will be very pleased if you leave something behind - orders are open, and I am very close to 200 followers! maybe I can get in by the end of the week?
please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)
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letstrip13 · 1 day
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can you plz make a Chris fanfic similar to the "teach me" fanfic of matt? Except the reader likes Chris and was actually experienced and just wants to fck him? 🙏🏻🙏🏻 If you're comfortable ofc
🎱 - liar, liar
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reader x chris
summary: you and chris remember an old pact from high school. what happens when you lie to him for your own pleasure?
warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral m!receiving
word count: 1,844
author's note: i added those cute lil pictures to all my fics and i love how they turned out!! you can look at them on my masterlist if you want :)
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you and your three best friends walk through the front door of their LA house. you'd known each other since middle school, meeting nick in math class then being introduced to chris and matt soon after. you turned twenty just a few weeks ago. since the triplets had been too caught up in their work to visit you in boston at the time, they cleared their schedules and flew you out to have their own celebration with you. you had arrived this morning and they had taken you anywhere you wanted to go during the day before giving you presents and taking you out to dinner and a movie.
you ended off the night by filming a car video with them. it's the first time you've appeared on their channel. it was something along the lines of, “best friend of triplets answers questions about being the best friend of triplets.” they'd already done similar videos with their parents and their older brother, justin. you're understandably a bit worried about the fans, you've seen the way they are. but you know that you're just best friends with the triplets, nothing more.
well, maybe just a little more when it came to chris. you couldn't help it. he was by far the hottest guy you know. and that damn smile. he flashes you one of those signature, charming smiles as he leads you to his bedroom after you both say goodnight to his brothers.
he lets you change in his bathroom while he does so in his room. you change into sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt, take your makeup off, and brush your teeth. he catches your eye as you switch, you getting into his bed while he goes into his bathroom, and you notice he's only wearing boxers and a white t-shirt.
you get comfortable in his bed, leaning against the headboard and pulling the blankets up to cover your legs. his door is semi-open and you can see him standing at the sink, brushing his teeth. “forgetting something?” you tease, referring to his lack of pants. “nope,” chris responds, mumbling due to the toothpaste filling his mouth. he spits loudly and rinses his mouth before washing his face and joining you in bed.
neither of you are tired yet, the excitement of getting to hang out after so long keeping you awake and giving you a little buzz of energy. you spend what feels like hours reminiscing on all the fun memories you had in high school. after talking about a particularly funny time in senior year, leaving you both in a fit of giggles, he speaks up. “hey, remember that pact we made?” he asks between laughs.
it takes you a moment to figure out what he meant. he was referring to a pact you made probably around four or five years ago now: if one or both of you were still virgins by the time you're twenty, you'd sleep together. your laughs slow to a stop. was he going somewhere with this? “yeah, i do.” “well..?” he asks.
you didn't think he'd take it seriously at all, it was just a dumb thing you made up in high school. but chris is the type of guy to keep his word no matter what and you know exactly what he's implying.
chris isn't a virgin, he's told you about the few hookups he's had. but he doesn't know that you've had a few as well. whether or not you two follow through with this pact is completely reliant on your answer. you've always wanted to sleep with him anyways, so what's the harm in a little lie?
“yes, i'm still a virgin.” a smile lights up his face at your words. “do you actually want to go through with this?” he asks with a nervous chuckle. you respond by kissing him which he's a little caught off guard by. considering you'd supposedly never done this before, wouldn't you be more unsure, or even shy? he didn't pay any mind to it, eagerly deepening the kiss and putting his hands up your shirt.
you pull away briefly to remove each other's shirts before chris pulls you in, immediately connecting his lips to yours. his fingers find their way to your nipples, eliciting whimpers from you as he pulls and teases them. you move your hand down to the bulge in his boxers, feeling his cock growing harder as you palm him through the fabric.
he lets out a soft groan, pulling away. “get on your knees for me, sweetheart.” he stands up as you get on your knees in front of him. you tug his boxers down, his hard cock springing up and hitting his lower stomach. precum leaks from the tip and you teasingly lick it off while you look up at him through your lashes. he makes a noise that sounds something like a combination of a sigh of pleasure and a whimper. you swirl your tongue around the tip before wrapping your lips around it. he shifts his hips forward, causing you to take him deeper in your mouth.
he grabs your hair, forming a makeshift ponytail to hold it out of the way for you as you work more of his shaft into your mouth. you move your mouth as far down as you can go before bringing it back up so your lips are wrapped around the tip before going back down again. you repeat this action, starting out slow but getting faster after a bit. you stroke the few inches at the base that you can't fit in your mouth.
your skills impressed yet confused chris; you claimed to be a virgin yet it was clear that you had experience. the thought didn't linger for very long at all, disappearing as quickly as it came. “fuck, you're taking me so well,” he praises you with a moan, throwing his head back in pleasure.
you slowly pull away letting his cock out of your mouth with a soft pop. his eyebrows furrow in disappointment but the look quickly fades when you stand up in front of him and take off the clothes remaining on your lower half.
you sit on the bed, your head against the pillows. chris gets on too, hovering over you as he presses a heated kiss to your lips. he slowly trails one of his hands down, ghosting his thumb over your clit. your hips buck up slightly, craving more of his touch. he pulls away, kissing down your neck as he pushes one finger into you. he sucks light marks into your skin as he pumps in and out, soon adding a second finger while his thumb rubs circles on your clit, leaving you moaning under him.
he pulls his fingers out slowly and brings his hands down to your hips to flip you over. now you're on your hands and knees, facing the headboard while he's on his knees behind you. he teasingly rubs his cock against your entrance but you don't want to wait around for that. you need to feel him inside you. “chris, please. no teasing.” you arch your back, pushing your ass back against him. “can't wait to feel you.”
he moves one hand up to your waist as he uses the other to guide his cock into you, causing you both to moan at the feeling. he starts thrusting at an agonizingly slow pace but he's still hitting all the right spots. “f-faster please,” you whine.
he complies and speeds up his movement while bringing his hands down to your ass, loving the way it feels against his palms as he kneads it. “i fucking love your ass,” he moans out as he gives it a slap, causing you to whimper at the painful sensation. “i always have.” he gently rubs his palm over the area, soothing the pain he caused you.
your moans have grown louder as that familiar feeling starts to build up, you're getting close. chris grabs both your arms and holds your wrists together behind your back with one of his hands. he gently pushes the back of your head down so your face is buried in his pillows, muffling your cries of pleasure. he lets go of your wrists and moves his hands back to your hips, holding you steady as you arch your back.
“i-i'm close,” you moan, muffled by the pillows. chris gets more aggressive with his thrusts, his fingers digging into your hips which you're sure will leave little bruises. your eyes roll back as he hits spots so deep, so perfectly, in a way you never thought was possible. it only takes a single minute for you to be crying out into the pillow, your legs shaking as you cum on his cock.
his orgasm follows closely behind yours. “fuck-” he groans, pulling out and shooting his warm, sticky load all over your ass and lower back. he grabs a t-shirt and cleans you up. you turn over and get out of bed, both of you getting dressed. he holds out his hand for you to take, which you do. “come on, let's go upstairs. i'll get you water and something to eat.” “okay, thank you.”
you follow him out of his room and upstairs to the kitchen, being careful not to wake anyone. you lean on the counter and you feel a small twinge of guilt gnawing at you for lying to chris. he hands you a bottle of water from the fridge. you open it and take a sip. “chris, i have to tell you something..” he looks away from the cabinet he was searching in for snacks. “yeah, what's up?”
you take a deep breath, nervous for what his reaction might be. he wasn't the type to get angry with you much but you worried you had crossed a line. “i lied to you. i wasn't actually a virgin. i just said that so you'd fuck me because i knew you wouldn't otherwise.” you look down, avoiding his gaze and preparing yourself for him to get angry.
but it never comes. instead he just laughs. you look up at him, your expression laced with confusion. “i know. you're a terrible liar.” “what?” you ask, partly out of confusion from his response and partly because he called you a terrible liar. it couldn't have been that unbelievable. “oh come on. if you say you're a virgin, at least pretend you don't know how to suck a dick.” this leaves you speechless and all that leaves your lips is a laugh.
he turns back around to look for snacks. “want some animal crackers?” he asks, offering you the open box. “sure,” you reach into the box and grab a few. you eat one before breaking the silence. “you're the best i've ever had, you know.” “of course i am. it's me,” he replies in a teasing tone with that charming smile of his. you roll your eyes and throw an animal cracker at him. of course he was.
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author's note part 2: actually go look, you won't regret it. it won't take long and it's definitely worth it cause they're really cute. idk why i didn't add them sooner
author's note part 3: you should totally go look. please?
author's note part 4: can you tell i want everyone to see them? have i convinced you yet? okay i'll stop now thanks for reading!!
୨୧⋆。˚ tags: @chrissturniolosbitch @christhopersturniolo @mattscurlygirly @fratbrochrisgf @d3axplr @junnniiieee07 @rubyjaneaxx @leakedsturns @remussbitch @ccolleenn @sturnpooks @ribread03 joinnnn <3
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abibliophobiaa · 1 day
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One word prompts are so hard for me cause they could go an infinite direction but what about the word Cherry with Steve?
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don’t you call him ‘baby’
steve harrington x f!reader. angst with a happy ending. [2k]
——
There’s a cherry red stain on the edge of the grainy photo. The color of your favorite lipstick — the same color still on the collar of his old jean jacket. He'll never get rid of it, he’s decided long ago now. You’re smiling back at him, captured forever in this picture, the sunset behind you, a hand hiking up one side of your flowing dress, the fabric backlit by the orange sky, highlighting the curves of your silhouette. He doesn’t even need the photo to remember the way it feels for his hands to travel the pathway of your side, your hip, the contours of your thighs. And the memories of that day hit him like a freight train all the same, like it was only yesterday.
Your hand is in his as he peels away from the curb at Max and Lucas’ new place in California. Sun streaks across the sky still, his sunglasses perched high on his nose. He feels you squeeze him tighter, thumb stroking lovingly along his knuckles. He turns his head and captures your gaze, your mouth a firm line, eyes round and soft. Sad.
“You okay?” you ask, and he realizes that sadness is for him. Heart practically shatters at that, because you know him deeply — just as you’ve always known over the years without him ever uttering a word.
His lip wobbles, but he doesn’t cry, tries not to at least. Even so, you gather the tear that eventually streams down his face. Thumb it away so tenderly it’s like you’re trying to capture it — to encapsulate this moment. Max is gone, Lucas is starting a new career, Dustin is off to college with El, Will, and Mike. Robin’s getting married soon. And he’s peering at everyone through the window, wishing them well, watching them slip away with the passing of time.
Everything is changing, yet you remain, and though it aches to see his life changing so quickly and suddenly, you’re a constant. The thought alone has him leaning over at a red light and kissing you soundly on the lips, hands in your hair at the back of your head, his cheeks flaming hot when the light turns green and someone slams on the horn behind him.
“Let’s go somewhere,” you muse softly, a little to yourself, head against the doorframe, free hand twirling in the wind out the window, catching sunlight in the palm of your hand. “That sign says there’s a beach up ahead. I want to put my feet in the water.”
He smiles, squeezing your hand, thinking how he can’t wait to marry you one day. “Okay, honey.”
Soon enough you’re both running along the beach with your hands tangled together. You’re spinning. Twirling. Laughing as he turns you round and around on the beach, sand between your toes, sun kissing his skin, blissful words punctuated by lingering kisses. There’s a blanket strewn out nearby you brought along and laid out, shoes discarded, your newest book propped open on its front. Beside that is the camera he brought along for the trip, the same one he rushes away to grab, chest splitting in two at the wide smile that breaks along your face.
You’re perfect. Everything he could ever want and more in a person. Beautiful beyond whatever measure a camera could ever capture you within. The photo slides out and slowly develops. The same photo you hold pinched between your fingertips as you later drive back to your hotel, bringing your lips to the bare corner, leaving a cherry red stain behind.
“Give me your wallet,” you reach an arm out and he slaps the leather within, the picture sliding into an empty slot. “Now you’ll always have me with you.”
Such sweet words — if only you had known.
He’s not sure how it happened. How that one perfect day became a memory. He still remembers the feel of your warm skin after hours on the beach spent kicking up sand, dancing in the waves, falling into fits of laughter as you eventually fell back onto a blanket, hands tangled together as tightly knit as your hearts. Later you’d pulled him down against you in that hotel bed, blocked out the rest of the world, and relished the feel of two souls wound together like one. You whispered forever against his throat as he later curled you against his chest, with the sound of his heartbeat a promise to lull you into sleep.
But things changed. His anxiety after Vecna grew, he buried himself in a job he didn’t even want at his father’s company to run from it. Work became too much — distance between you grew, him on trips that drew him further and further away from Hawkins. He pushed you away, he knew it, you knew it, though neither wanted to admit it out loud. At first you fought about it, about how you wanted forever but forever couldn’t look like this if you wanted it to stand the test of time. And then the apartment grew silent. Screaming matches turned into quiet sobs before bed, when you thought he couldn’t hear you, but he did every time. The distance became a chasm, too far to broach.
Then you left. Packed your things one morning and chose yourself. He understood. Of course he did. Still it didn’t make anything better. Didn’t make his heart hurt any less.
Now he sits in the middle of your — his — bed staring at the photo of you. The box of things he kept of yours through the years stored beneath his bed, even after Eddie suggested he might want to put it away in a closet or something. It’s been six months, six months of not turning over every morning to find you already awake and propped up beside him, wanting the first thing he sees every morning to be your smiling face. Six months of wondering what you’re doing, wondering who you’re talking to, wondering if you’ve moved on.
He gets his answer that night.
Eddie’s shoving Steve along beside him. Clothes cling to sweaty bodies in the packed bar. Robin couldn’t make it, so the two decide on a ‘boy’s night out.’ They’ve not had one in a bit, since Chrissy’s just given birth to their first baby a couple months ago. But she practically pushes him out the door that night, promising her and their new son will be fine, that he deserves a fun night with his friend.
Only it’s far from fun. With July came the hottest weather Hawkins has seen all year. ‘A record breaking high,’ the news stations tout. All Steve knows is his jeans feel tighter than usual, his skirt is stuck to his sweaty back, and the woman he loves is standing at the bar with a man Steve doesn’t recognize.
“Don’t look,” Eddie warns, as though it’s not already too late. As if Steve’s not drawn to you like a magnet, even after all this time. “He could be a friend, or something.”
He could be. But the man is reaching over to rest a hand over your forearm, head bent low, eyes wide, and clearly engaged in whatever story you’re telling him. Steve’s not surprised. It’s one of his favorite things about you: this way you seem to captivate every room you walk into. Like he’s in your orbit, circling around you, pulled in close by your mere aura. Anyone who knows you loves you, he thinks — and they’re lucky for it. He’d been lucky for a time, too.
“Steve, stop torturing yourself,” Eddie says, giving his friend’s shoulder a little wiggle. “Here — let me go grab us some beers. I’ll be right back. Don’t do anything hasty.”
Steve shakes his head. What’s he going to do? Scream. Cry. Beg for you to come back. No — instead he watches. Feels his chest ache as you throw your head back in a laugh at something your date must say, hiding your smile against the lip of your glass, suddenly bashful when your eyes flicker up and clash with Steve’s. The drink in your hand falls and shatters and people rush to clean it up. Your date scrambles to find a stack of napkins, dabs at the front of your blouse, the gesture lost to you as you stay staring ahead, held in place by a ghost of your past.
Suddenly, like a light bulb flashing in your mind, you snap back to attention. He watches the bob of your throat on a swallow, the long rise and fall of your chest on your deep inhale and exhale, the forceful smile that curls your lips as you return your focus to your date.
The moment slips away as Eddie returns to the table, glasses in hand.
——
He’s not sure how he ends up here. Standing in your doorway, the ‘exit’ sign at the end of your hall flickering in the night. Your palm splays against the open door, mouth agape, eyes on his face, blinking frantically like you might think he’s an apparition.
“Please don’t tell me he’s your boyfriend.” Please don’t tell me you call him ‘baby.’ He hates himself for the tears that glimmer like pools in his eyes, hates as you reach up to cover his cheek when the first spills down his skin. “Damn it — I had a whole speech and I —” His voice breaks, throat closing around his words. You’re on your toes, face in his collar bone, clinging to him like he’s the very thing keeping you afloat at sea. “I quit my job, I started therapy, I’m not saying it excuses anything but —”
“Come with me,” you whisper, dropping back onto your heels, pajama shorts ruffling around your thighs.
Heat blooms in his belly as your fingers knit with his, dragging you further into an unfamiliar apartment. It’s very you. All your favorite colors and things, movies strewn about the living room floor, the grainy static humming on a television screen. A pot of half-eaten macaroni is left on a stove top, a plant on your kitchen table, books on a little shelf on a corner leading to a hallway. Lived in.
“Sit on the bed,” you demand as he slips inside your bedroom.
The blankets are messy, like you’ve risen from a nap recently. A stuffed animal he won you at a carnival rests beside your pillow, well-loved, as the fur is no longer as fluffy as it once had been. He watches stiffly as you reach down beneath your bed and pull out a shoebox. In your lipstick, you’ve written “Us” and decorated the top of the box with dozens of little stickers accumulated over the years. In awe, his gaze trails your hands as they pluck item after item collected throughout the years together. That first Scoops Ahoy napkin where he wrote his phone number down, that strip of photos at the photo booth at a carnival, your plush toy between your bodies as he kissed you that first time, a shirt of his from high school days that still smelled like him when you breathed deep enough, the little stack of Polaroids with all your memories scattered within. Early dates, holidays, Valentine’s Day, trips out of town with Robin, photos with the kids. Memories frozen in time of a life that feels so long ago — a life he still craves more than anything.
“I never got rid of them,” you mutter thoughtfully, holding up a photo of him napping on a lawn chair at his parent’s house, skin tanned, chest bare, marker scribbles by the kids on his face in the shape of glasses. “He’s not my boyfriend. I haven’t dated anyone since…”
“Me neither,” he swallows, inhaling sharply as your forehead rests against his. “I know I can’t…I know I messed up and I can’t take that back. But you deserve the world and I want it to be with me.”
“You’re going to give me the world, Harrington?” You tease, and he can almost hear the laughter in your voice as you reach down between the two of you to shove the memory box aside.
“If you’ll let me.”
“You have a lot of groveling to do,” you murmur, and he can feel your lips brush his, just a whisper, softly enough he wonders if he’s dreaming, “starting with this.”
He kisses you. One for every day he’s gone without. Until you’re falling onto your back and gazing up at him with stars in your eyes, fingers trailing his bare chest, lingering along the heart that thumps wildly beneath, singing of a forever.
——
171 notes · View notes
madlori · 9 hours
Text
i don't even know what this is, a bit of non-buddie-endgame heartbreak maybe.
----
"One more?" Eddie says, holding up the decanter of fine ten-year-old bourbon.
Buck sighs. "I better not. Don't want to be hungover tomorrow like I was at the last wedding we were at."
"At least you weren't the groom that time," Eddie said, grinning as he puts down the decanter, apparently deciding to forgo a refill for himself.
"All the more reason."
"It took me a year to pay off the credit card bill for that fucking hotel room," Eddie groans.
"Hey, you say that like I wasn't paying half."
"At least it put us off having some kind of wild party tonight."
"Yeah. Plus it just feels weird. Like, how does a bachelor party work if you're marrying a man? Seems like he ought to be invited, too."
"What is Tommy doing tonight?"
"His brothers and a couple of the guys from Harbor took him to Top Golf."
"Stop this crazy party train."
"I kinda like Top Golf, it's like golf but also skeeball."
Eddie put down his glass and leaned forward. "So I know a traditional part of my job tonight is to like...check how you're feeling. Like, make sure you're doing the right thing. See if you're having cold feet."
"It is?"
"Apparently. But...I don't really need to. You're practically vibrating with excitement."
Buck felt himself go warm and liquid at the idea that in 24 hours, he'd be Tommy's husband. "I am doing the right thing. I've never had any doubts."
"Never?"
"No. I love him so much, Eddie."
"I know you do. And that guy is so in love with you it's embarrassing. I've never had doubts about either of you, either. And you know I get protective."
"Gee, you don't say."
"Shut up!" They laughed together, the quiet, easy laughter of a nearly decade-old friendship that in some ways was even closer than a marriage.
Buck sighed. "Well, I better get to bed. I need sleep if I want to look pretty to marry the man of my dreams tomorrow."
Eddie nodded, making no move to get up himself. "I'll wake you up at 9."
"Thanks." He patted Eddie's knee and went to the door. Something felt...electric. The air was crackling and he didn't really know why.
He was at the door when Eddie's voice stopped him.
"Did we just miss our chance? Somewhere along the way?" he said, quietly, but his voice cut into the silence clearly.
Buck paused, still facing the door. He took a deep breath and turned, his eyes locking on to Eddie's immediately. He did not even try to pretend that he didn't know exactly what Eddie was talking about. "Yeah. I think we did."
Eddie nodded. "I think so, too."
Buck took a step forward. "But you will always be my guy, Eddie. Always."
Eddie stood up, hands in his pockets. "I love you. And I love him. I love what you two have, together. And I will always have your back."
Buck took the two steps to close the distance and pulled Eddie into an embrace, pressing his face into his hair. "I love you, too." He drew back and let his forehead rest against Eddie's. They took a few breaths together, and it felt like they were releasing something into the air between them. Buck pulled away and pressed a kiss to Eddie's forehead. Eddie smiled, an easy, familiar smile, and it was okay again.
Buck grinned, squeezed his hand, and left the room.
He got to his own hotel room - they were all staying in the historic inn where the ceremony would be tomorrow - and made it inside. A shuddering breath escaped him, and as if he'd been waiting for a cue, he heard Tommy's key in the lock and he came inside. "Evan, wha..." was all he got out before Buck buried himself in his arms. "Are you okay?"
"Yes. I'm amazing. I'm just..." He sighed, pressing his face into Tommy's neck. "I think I just let go of something I've been holding onto for a long time."
Tommy pulled back and met his eyes. "Eddie?"
He knew. Of course he knew. This man who was about to marry him absolutely knew. Buck nodded.
"And you're both okay?"
"Yes. Better than that, I think." Tommy pulled him back into his arms, rocking them both back and forth. "I love you."
"I know, Evan. I've always known."
Buck stood in the embrace of the man he loved, and wept both for what he was about to gain, and a little bit for what he'd never had.
133 notes · View notes
waitimcomingtoo · 4 hours
Text
Meet Me Behind The Mall
Pairing: shy!Peter Parker x popular!Reader
Synopsis: after getting ditched by your friends, you spend a day with Peter in the mall, who’s secret you recently figured out
Masterlist
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In his peripheral vision, Peter could see a tiny piece of paper being pushed onto his side of the lab table. He curiously looked at it, then up at you. You nodded your head towards the note so Peter unfolded it.
“What’s the answer to number 7?” The note read. Peter glanced up at the professor before scribbling down the answer and passing the note back to you. You read his response and circled the correct answer. A few seconds passed when another note was passed across the table. Peter picked it up and opened it to reveal three hearts drawn around the words “thank u!”. Peter felt his face flush and looked over at you again. You gave him a thumbs up before going up to hand in your test.
After class, you caught up with Peter in the hallway and put your hand on his shoulder to stop him.
“Thank you so much for helping me in there. I counted up all the answers I was confident I got right and it wasn’t enough to get a pass. I just don’t get this unit.”
“You’re welcome.” Was all Peter could say. He thought about offering to tutor you or telling you he also struggled with the topic, but he felt too shy to get anything more out than a cordial response.
“I bet you did really well. You always do. God, I wish I was as good at science as you are. It’s just never come naturally to me. How do you always know the answer?” You asked him as you continued to walk together.
“Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugged and immediately scrunched his face in embarrassment. He wished he could be better at conversing with you, especially since you were always so nice to him. He saw a pack of your friends coming down the hallway and they waved you over, putting your conversation out of it’s misery.
“Bye, Peter. I’ll see you next class. Have a good weekend.” You waved to him as you ran to catch up with your large group of friends. He knew he should return the sentiment but instead stayed silent and gave you a pathetic wave back.
That night, the cheap alcohol of the frat party didn’t sit well with you so you headed home early. You were a pretty far walk from your dorm but felt too nauseas to get into a car. Instead, you started walking home and let the cold New York air calm you down.
“Where are you going, gorgeous?”
You felt panic drop in your stomach at the sound of a man’s voice somewhere in the darkness but kept walking to your dorm. The sound of footsteps behind you picked up behind you so you quickened your pace. You could still hear music coming from the party you had left so you knew people were nearby if worst came to worst.
“Hey. I’m talking to you. Where are you going?”The man asked as he caught up to you and walked beside you. You ignored him and tugged your jacket tighter around your body. He suddenly took you by the elbow and you froze in fear.
“Come on. Don’t be rude. Just give me a smile and I’ll leave you alone.” The man said with a sickening smile as he tried to get you to look at him.
“Please. I’ll give you whatever you want from my bag. Just leave me alone.” You pleaded and moved away from him. He snatched your purse from your hands and started to rummage through it.
“What the hell is this? This is just full of receipts.” He grimaced in disgust and pulled out a handful of crumbled receipts.
“I don’t want to throw them out in case I need to return something one day.” You said meekly.
“Do you even have a wallet? All I’m finding is lip gloss.” The man said as he picked up five different lip products from the bottom of your bag.
“Oh, I’m sorry you didn’t find a better person to rob.” You scoffed sarcastically. The man looked up at you with a primal look in his eyes.
“Oh, you think you’re funny? I don’t like girls who think they’re funny.” He said and gripped your elbow again. You tried to pull away but he was too strong. Before you could tell him to let to, Spiderman dropped down next to you. You cracked a smile at the sight of him and let out a sigh of relief.
“Sir, I hate to be the one to tell you this but that purse does not to with that outfit.” Peter sassed and moved his hands in dramatic exasperation.
“Huh?” The guy said and let go of you.
“Now, you better not have left a bruise on this lovely lady’s elbows or you and I are gonna have a serious problem.” Peter warned as he shot a web at the guys pants. He yanked them down and the man’s jeans fell to his ankles.
“Hm. I did not peg you for a boxers guy. Your whole vibe screams “Fruit of the Loom” tighty whities. Yet now I stand corrected.” Peter said as he tilted his head to the side. You covered your mouth and let out a laugh, making the man grow angry. He went to lunge at Peter but tripped over his dropped pants.
“Uh oh. Someone’s angry. Maybe your whities are a little too tighty.” Peter commented as he pinched his fingers together. You laughed again as Peter shot a web at your purse.
“I’ll take that.” He quipped and yanked the purse out of the man’s hands.
“Thank you!” Peter said politely as he caught your purse.
“Hey!” The man shouted.
“Hey?” Peter laughed. “You’re yelling at me like it’s yours.”
The man tried to lunge at Peter again and ended up falling flat on his face. Peter took that as his cue to wrap an arm around you and pick you up to swing you to safety. He landed a few blocks away and carefully put you down. You stared at him through the mask as he put you down, your faces just inches apart. Peter gulped and felt his entire face go red beneath the mask.
“Thank you, Spiderman.” You smiled softly at him as you slowly withdrew your arm from around his neck.
“You’re very welcome, miss. I believe this belongs to you.” He said as he put your purse back into your hands. Your eyebrows knit together suddenly in confusion and you let out a short laugh.
“Wait, Peter?” You asked, making Peter’s heart drop.
“Uh, what?” He gulped. “Who’s that? I’m your friendly neighbor Spiderman.”
“Right. Sorry. You sound just like this guy in my chemistry class.” You laughed and shook your head. Peter felt his blush spread all the way to his ears over you recognizing the sound of his voice. You ran in different circles at school, you being apart of the popular group of girls and him belonging to a small group of local nerds. That being said, your ever present kindness towards him left him to develop a small crush on you.
“Oh. Well, that’s not me. But he sounds really handsome.” Peter replied, making you laugh again.
“He is.” You nodded without an ounce of sarcasm in your voice. This piked his curiosity and he leaned in a little.
“He is?” He asked.
“Oh, yeah. Absolutely.” You nodded. “In a hot nerd kind of way. Like Spencer Reid. But kinda short. Which I’m not sure why I’m telling you now that I hear myself.”
“It’s okay. I like that show too.” He chuckled shyly. “He sounds really cool.”
“He is really cool. At least, I think he is. But I’m not really sure. Everytime I try to talk to him, he looks away.” You sighed like you were disappointed. Peter realized you were a little drunk and probably didn’t know what you were saying. Even if that was the case, it was still nice to hear.
“Maybe he’s just shy. And doesn’t know how to look pretty girls in the eye.” Peter said as he kicked a rock around with his foot.
“That’s a shame.” You smiled sadly. “Because I think he and I could be friends if he ever learned to look at me.”
Peter stopped messing with the rock and looked up at you. There was a smallness to you tonight that shone through your party dress and heavy makeup. Your typically bright hand bubbly demeanor was cloudy by something you weren’t telling him.
“Maybe he’ll start.” He told you.
“I hope so.“ You answered honestly. “He seems nice. I could use a friend like him.”
Standing under that streetlight, Peter noticed a sadness to you for the first time. You were usually in a circle of friends all wearing smiles but right now, you seemed completely alone down to your bones.
“So how was your night?” He asked in a quiet voice. You stared off into the distance as your eyes brimmed with tears suddenly.
“Do you ever feel completely alone despite being in a room full of people you know?” You asked him.
“I do, actually. All the time.” He answered. You looked at him and smiled sadly.
“Do really, Spiderman?” You asked with hope in your voice. It wasn’t that you wanted him to feel alone. You just wanted to know you weren’t the only one who felt that way.
“I do. Is that how you felt tonight?”
“I don’t know. I guess. Sometimes I make jokes and my friends all look at each other. And they all make this face as if they’re thinking the same thing. And what they’re thinking is that I’m a freakish alien who they’re embarrassed to know. That’s how I felt tonight.”
“Well that’s no fun. And you’re not a freakish alien. You’re very funny.”
“And you know that because you’re the cute guy in my chemistry class?” You asked with a hopeful smile.
“I’m not him. I’m just guessing that you’re funny. So maybe you are an alien. I don’t know. This is our first time meeting.”
“Right.” You rolled your eyes. “So how do you think you did on the last test? I actually feel pretty confident.”
“I don’t know because I didn’t take any test because I’m not the guy in your chemistry class. Now can I walk you home? It’s freezing out here and I have no jacket to offer you.”
“Sure, thanks. I’m this way.” You said and pointed in the direction of your dorm. Peter placed a hand on the small of your back and guided you towards your dorm.
“You should get a friend to walk with you next time you leave a party. It’s not safe to be out here by yourself. Especially with guys like that going around snatching purses.”
“I know. I asked my friends but they weren’t ready to leave yet.” You shrugged.
“And they let you walk home alone? Drunk? Sounds like you need some new friends.” Peter joked but you nodded in agreement.
“I know. But you know how friends can be. They still wanted to party. Why should I be their problem?” You shrugged again, making Peter frown.
“It’s not a problem to look out for you.” He said simply.
“That’s easy for you to say. You look out for everyone. It’s your job.” You reminded him.
“I’m not just saying that because of my job. It wouldn’t be a burden to take care of you no matter who I was.” Peter replied, making you stop walking. He looked at you and you looked that you had been waiting your whole life to hear what he had just said.
“Thank you.” You said with a fond smile.
“You’re very welcome.” Peter replied in an equally soft voice. You kept walking in comfortable silence until you reached the girls dorm.
“This is my dorm.” You told him. Thanks again for walking me home. And getting my purse back for me.”
“Anytime.”He nodded. “I just hope it doesn’t happen again. But if it did, you know.”
“You’d be here.” You finished his sentence.
“Exactly.” He smiled. “You can count on it.”
You couldn’t see the smile under his mask but you knew it was there. You held up your purse to show him that you had it before walking up a few of your dorm steps.
“See you at school?” You asked him.
“Don’t think so.” Peter chuckled. You squinted your eyes as if you didn’t believe him but eventually shrugged.
“That’s too bad. Good night.” You waved to him and walked the rest of the way up the stairs.
“Good night.” He called after you.
Once Monday came, you were determined to talk to Peter. You didn’t have chemistry that day so you’d have to find him elsewhere on campus. You knew he usually hung out in the library so you went there to check. Sure enough, he was at a table with his friends Ned and Miles.
“Hey, Peter.” You greeted as you walked up to him.
“H-hi.” He stammered. “What are you? I mean, how are you up? I mean, how are you? What’s up?”
“There we go.” Ned nodded. “I knew he’d get there eventually.”
“I’m good.” You replied. “How are you doing?”
“Ooo. Is this your girlfriend from chemistry class?” Miles asked as his raised his eyebrows suggestively.
“Is that what you told them?” You smiled in surprise as you looked at Peter.
“No. I didn’t. I swear.“ He assured you as his entire face went red.
“He did show us the note you gave him.” Ned told you.
“Oh yeah. Three hearts. I didn’t realize you guys were so serious.” Miles teased Peter as he gave his friends a look that begged them to stop.
“I never said she was my girlfriend.” Peter whispered harshly to them. You could tell he was getting embarrassed so you played along to save him. You frowned and ran your fingers through his hair before letting your hand rest on his cheek.
“What? You didn’t tell them about us, baby?” You asked and titled your head to the side. Miles and Ned’s made surprised faces as Peters entire face went red.
“W-what?” Peter sputtered out.
“I’m messing with you.” You smiled. “But I do need to talk to you.”
“Oh, uh, okay. Sure.” Peter said and moved his bag so you could sit down. You looked at Miles and Ned and smiled timidly.
“Privately.” You clarified. Miles and Ned “oooo”ed as you walked away from their table and went into the hall.
“Dude, follow her.” Ned told him and pushed Peter up from the table. Peter nervously fixed his hair and got up to follow you.
“What’s up?” He asked once you were alone. You looked around to see who was watching before stepping closer to him.
“I just wanted to thank for getting my purse back for me. It’s my favorite bag. And my favorite lip combo was in there. You really saved me.” You said and squeezed his arm in appreciation.
“Oh, you’re welcome. Anytime.” Peter said waved his hand like it was no big deal. Your lips curved into a wicked smile and Peter realized his mistake.
“Shit.” He whispered as you jumped up and down and clapped your hands.
“I knew it!” You whispered. “I knew that was your voice!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said quickly.
“Yes you do.” You grinned and poked him in the chest.
“I really don’t.” He shrugged but he knew he was caught.
“Then why are you so flustered right now?” You folded your arms to ask him. Peter touched his burning cheek and debated telling you his face always did that around you.
“I’m not.” He lied.
“Your face is hot.” You pointed out as you touched a cold hand to his cheek.
“Psht. Your face is hot.” He scoffed and pushed your hand away.
“Thank you.” You said pointedly. “But you and I both know that I figured out your little secret. There’s no point in denying it now.”
“I don’t have any secrets. So you don’t know anything.”
“Come on, Peter.” You whined. “I’ve been waiting all weekend to tell you that I know. I wanted to text you but I don’t have your number and I couldn’t find you on Instagram. You have one, don’t you?”
“I’m not on social media.” He told you.
“Okay. That’s serial killer behavior but I’m willing to look past it if you confirm my suspicions.” You said and excitedly drummed your fingers on your chin.
“I’m not Spiderman. So I cannot confirm your suspicions.” He whispered for only you to hear. You smirked a little before shrugging.
“I guess you can’t.” You sighed. “It’s weird though, right?”
“What’s weird?” He wondered.
“That I never said you were Spiderman. I just thanked you for getting my purse.” You said with a coy smile. Peter hung his head in shame as he confirmed to you for the second time that he was in fact Spiderman.
“I knew it! I knew it was you. I even recognized the way you walk.” You said proudly.
“What do you know about the way I walk?” He asked with a shy smile.
“You walk really stiff like you’re holding two invisible briefcases.” You explained and demonstrated for him with a near perfect imitation of how he walked.
“What? No I don’t. Oh wait. Yeah, I kinda do.” He realized as he watched you.
“You definitely do. Now can you please just tell me I’m right? I’ve been thinking about it all weekend. I need to hear you tell me I was right.” You begged him as you put your hands on his shoulders. Peter playfully rolled his eyes up to the ceiling and sighed.
“You right.” He mumbled.
“Yes! I knew I was right!” You cheered. “Everything makes sense now. That’s why you’re always disappearing or yawning or bruised. You’re probably up every night getting girls purses, aren’t you?”
“Not always purses.” He instead. “Sometimes it’s bikes. And one time, a mean chihuahua.”
“Wow.” You said with genuine amazement. “So how long have you been doing this?”
“Since I was 15.”
“15? Damn. I was exhausted from working 4 hours a week at Kohl’s at 15. How do you do it? You must be so tired.” You frowned and rubbed his arm kindly.
“It’s tiring but someone has to do it.” He shrugged. “Just like someone has to hand out Kohl’s cash.”
“Thats true.” You chuckled. “And that’s a very selfless way to look at it.”
“Oh. Thank you.” He smiled shyly. “But please, you can’t tell anyone about this. Nobody else knows.”
“Duh.” You replied. “This is our secret.”
“Yeah. Ours.” He smiled and felt his face heat up at the mention of something belonging to only the two of you. Your moment was cut short by one of your friends coming up to you and completely disregarding Peter.
“Hey, girl. I need your notes from class today.” She said to you.
“Oh, sure. How come you weren’t there?” You asked her.
“Liz and I went got coffee instead.” She replied. Peter could tell you were hurt they didn’t ask you to come get coffee but you just smiled and nodded.
“I’ll text them to you.” You told her.
“Thanks. Let’s go to the library. I need you to look at my English paper and tell me if it’s good.” She said and nodded towards the library. You looked at Peter and gave him an apologetic smile.
“Bye, Peter. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” You told him before leaving with your friend.
“Why were you talking to that lesbian?” Your friend asked you as you walked away.
“That wasn’t a lesbian. That was my friend Peter.” He heard you tell her before going into the library. He watched you disappear and let out a little sigh. He knew he was going to over analyze that entire conversation for probably the rest of his life, or at least until the next time you spoke.
That weekend, Peter headed to the mall a few blocks from campus to do some wandering by himself since Ned was busying. He did a little shopping before taking a seat on the mall fountain to check his texts. He was so engrossed in his phone that he didn’t notice you walk up to him.
“Well, well, well.” You chuckled, making him look up at you and blush.
“It’s a fountain, actually.” Peter deadpanned, making you crack a smile.
“You’re stupid. Move over.” You laughed and sat beside him. Your knees were touching which made Peters face warm up the way it always seemed to around you.
“Should I be worried? I’m starting to think you might be stalking me.” He teased you.
“Excuse me? I was just walking around and saw you. You’re the one who keeps ending up placed I’m already in.”
“Sounds like something a stalker would say.” He said out of the corner of his mouth.
“You wish I was your stalker. Now come on, give me the haul. What did you buy?” You asked him and nodded towards his bag.
“Socks and boxers.” He smiled proudly and held up his items.
“Oh shit. You did not come to play.”
“I really didn’t.” He played along, making you laugh again. You stared at him for a minute with a fond smile and he stared back with a matching one.
“What?” He wondered.
“You’re talking to me.”
“So?” He laughed shyly. “You’re talking to me.”
“No, I mean, like. Full eye contact. And full sentences. Who is this man? I’ve been waiting to meet him forever.” You teased him and he playfully rolled his eyes.
“I guess it’s easier to talk to you now that you know my secret. You’re not as scary anymore.”
“I was scary before?” You gasped and pretended to be offended.
“Yes. Girls like you are very terrifying to me.”
“Girls like me?” You smiled coyly.
“Pretty girls who are nice to me. I really wish you were a giant snake or the multi-bear from Gravity Falls or something. That’s way less scary.” He insisted.
“You’d rather talk to the multi-bear than me?”You scoffed. “I have half a mind to forget about you and go stalk some other guy.”
“No, please. Stay. I forgot how awkward it is to shop alone and I still need to get a belt.” He pretended to beg and put a hand on your leg to get you to stay. You looked at the hand on your leg and cracked a smile at the unexpected contact from him.
“Well I would never abandon a man on a belt quest.” You replied, making him laugh.
“Thank you. What about you? What are you looking for?”
He could have said “shopping for” but that’s not what he meant. He wanted to know what you were looking for. You cracked a smile as if you understood what he was asking.
“Better friends, actually. Have you seen any?” You asked with a playful but sad smile.
“I just saw your friends in H&M.” He told you and pointed to the store. You shrugged a little and shook your head.
“Yeah. I saw them too. After they all told me they were busy today and couldn’t hang out.” You admitted without looking at him. Peter frowned and moved closer to you.
“They came here without you?”
“I asked them to hang out. They all said they couldn’t. But now I’m getting a sneaking suspicion there’s a second group chat that I’m not in.” You laughed but he knew it was fake.
“I’m sorry.” He said quietly.
“I came here to cheer myself up and ended up feeling 200 times worse when I saw them all hanging out without me. I didn’t even say anything to them because I didn’t want them to feel bad for not inviting me. Not that they ever care when they make me feel bad.” You laughed again but it ended up in a sigh. You stared at your shoes for a second and Peter stayed silent.
“Girls suck.” You said after a beat. “Not always, of course, but when they suck, they really suck. They know how painful it can be to be the only one left out. But they still did it to me. I don’t understand why.”
“Neither do I. I thought those girls were your friends?”
“I don’t know. I kinda saw this coming.” You admitted. “I started to notice that I was always the one texting first. And always the one trying to make plans. And when they did text me, they were asking me for something. It was never just to check in on me.”
“That’s really hurtful. I’m sorry. I’ve been there too. It sucks when you realize that if you stopped reaching out to someone, you’d probably never speak again.” Peter replied, making you smile sadly at him.
“Exactly. Or when you wonder how long it would take them to notice if you stopped reaching out. And worse, wonder if they’d notice at all.”
“No one deserves to feel that way. Especially not someone as kind and considerate as you. You really do need new friends.” He nodded in agreement, making you genuinely laugh this time.
“We’re friends, right? Because I know your secret.”
“We can be friends.” Peter nodded, bringing a smile out of you.
“Thanks.” You told him and gave his shoulder a rub. Peter felt a sudden burst of confidence and decided to keep the momentum he had built.
“You’re probably gonna say no to this, but Ned and I were gonna get sandwiches and then build legos together tomorrow. You can come, if you’d like.”
“That’s okay. You don’t have to give me a pity invite to your sandwich and Lego party.” You told him.
“It’s not a pity invite. I want you to be there. It would make me happy to have you around.” Peter answered, making you smile once again. It was the simple change from “you can come” to “I wanted you to be there” that made all the difference.
“Do you want to hang out with me today?” You asked him.
“Yeah. I do.” He said immediately. You stood up and held out your hand for him to take.
“Come on. Let’s go look at the home decor.”
Peter took your hand and let you pull him towards the home decor store in the mall. He awkwardly ran ahead of you so that he could open the door for you but it was worth it when he saw you smiling.
“Thank you.” You said curtly and walked inside. He followed you around the store like a puppy dog and listened to your commentary on the various throw pillows and wall art as if it was words from a prophet.
“This would be perfect for you.” You gasped and held up an old Halloween pillow that had a sequenced spiderweb on it along with a spider made up of mostly fallen off beads.
“Is my job a joke to you?” He laughed and flicked the pillow.
“I mean, I did see some funny videos of you online. How often do you miss your webs and fall into bushes?”
“Bushes are rare, actually. It’s usually car hoods and hot dog stands.” He admitted.
“Ouch.” You grimaced. “Doesn’t that hurt?”
“No. Hot dog stands are really soft.” He said seriously. You laughed and kept walking down the aisles of the store.
“I love that I’m the only one that knows this about you.” You told him.
“You really do, don’t you?” He realized with an amused smile.
“Well, yeah. I always knew there was something about you and learning this vindicated me so hard.”
“Something about me? What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. You’re so allusive.” You shrugged. “Always disappearing and reappearing from places. Not on any sports teams but will never miss when throwing something into the trash from across the room. Knows all the answers in chemistry but never raises his hand. Ripped but hides it under Catholic school boy sweaters. I always wondered about you. Now I know.”
“Wow. You pick up on a lot of details. Nobody’s ever really noticed me like that.” Peter said as he looked at the ground so you wouldn’t see how flustered that made him.
“That you know of.” You corrected. “Because I noticed you a long time ago and you had no idea until now.”
“I notice you too.” He said as he looked into your eyes. You smiled at the eye contact and stayed looking at him.
“So, uh, were you just messing with me when you told Spiderman that you thought I was, you know.”
“A hot nerd?”
“Yeah. That.” He laughed shyly.
“I wasn’t messing with you.” You shrugged. “Or him. Either of you. I meant what I said.”
“So did I. I really don’t know how to talk to pretty girls.”
“We’re just regular people. Aside from our razor sharp teeth and detachable feet.”
“Why would you need to detach your feet?” He laughed.
“I don’t know but I used to have these dolls when I was younger where you’d yank their whole foot off to change their shoes. And they’d just have a little nub until you put new feet on them. God forbid you lose one of their shoes. Then they have no feet and had to walk around my dollhouse with nubs”.
“To be a woman is to perform.” He nodded along.
“Shut up.” You laughed and kept walking down the aisles of the store. You ended up buy some statue of an animal that you mentioned your mom liked to collect and Peter carried your bag for you into the next store.
“So who else knows about this secret? Besides us two.” You asked as you flipped through a clothing rack.
“My best friend. But that’s because he accidentally walked in on me in my suit. And my aunt. Who found out in the exact same way.”
“Sounds like you need to invest in a giant trench coat to cover yourself with when entering and exiting your room.” You told him.
“That’s a really good idea, actually. Do you think they sell those here?” He asked, making you laugh.
“So I was the first to figure it out?”
“You were. And now I’m really hoping it’s not obvious.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s obvious. I’m just very observant.”
“Of everything or just me?” He asked you.
“Just you.” You teased, making him blush again.
“What else have you observed about me?” He wondered.
“A few things, actually. You keep flexing your hand and I’m starting to think you’re working up the nerve to hold mine. That or you’re fighting the urge to punch me so I’m hoping it’s the former. I also observed that you haven’t checked your phone once since I found you and you’re letting me pick all the stores we go into.”
“Wow. And what do your observations tell you?”
“That you like me.” You said simply and continued looking at the clothes.
“What?” Peter sputtered. “No I don’t.”
“Says the boy who got my purse back from a burglar. Classic crush culture right there.” You clicked your tongue and shook your head.
“What?” He laughed. “That is not what I do when I have a crush on a girl. That’s just my job.”
“All right then. So what do you do when you have a crush?”
“Avoid eye contact and hope she likes shy tendencies. And open doors for her, obviously.” Peter said as he opened the door for you into the next store.
“Good to know.” You said and gave him a pleased smile as you passed him. He continued to follow you down the aisles of the store while holding your collection of clothes you wanted to try on.
“So why spiders? I’ve always wondered why you named yourself after arguably the worst bug of all time. Why not something more palatable like Lady Bug Man? Or Moth Man and then you could live under a bridge and spook people?” You asked as you handed him another dress for you to try on.
“It was a spider bite that gave me the abilities, actually. That’s where I got the name.” He explained as you disappeared behind a changing room curtain. You opened it up after a few seconds in one of the dresses you had taken off the rack.
“Really? I never would’ve guessed that. I’m learning so much right now.” You said as you turned around and moved your hair away from your neck. Peter blushed and picked up what you were implying and zipped the dress for you. You turned back around and gave him a grateful smile.
“What else do you want to know?” He asked with a shy smile. He usually categorized himself as shy and never wanting to be the center of attention, but right now he was hoping you had more questions to ask him. He liked being the center of attention when it was your attention he was getting.
“Why red and blue?” You wondered.
“Red for my mom’s red hair and blue for the car my dad drove.” Peter said out loud for the first time.
“Aw, Peter.” You pouted. “That’s really beautiful. I love that.”
“Thank you. I never told anybody that before.” He admitted.
“Hm. Something else just between us, then.” You winked at him before shutting the dressing room curtain again.
When you left that store, Peter opened the door for you on the way out with his free hand and held your bags with his other hand. As you walked through the mall, yours hands kept bumping against each others. It happened so many times in a row that Peter was starting to think he was doing it on purpose.
“You can, you know. If you want to.” You said without looking at him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Peter lied as your hands bumped once again.
“Okay. Never mind, then.” You replied and kept walking. Peter decided to do something for once and took your hand. You didn’t say anything but smirked and gave his hand a squeeze. You stayed holding hands as you went to a few more stores and ended up back by the fountain. Through the streams of water, you suddenly spotted the very group of friends that had left you out.
“Oh God. It’s them.” You gasped and stopped short. Peter thought you were going to drop his hand but you didn’t.
“What are you gonna do?” He asked. “I can stick to the wall if that at all helps.”
“Well I’m definitely gonna need to see that at some point but not right now. I need to hide.” You decided and looked around for the nearest exit. During your search, you heard the sound of your friends laughing and it made your stomach drop. You didn’t want to run away anymore and pretend that the things they did didn’t hurt you. They did. And it was time they knew that.
“Actually, no.” You decided. “Why should I hide to make them more comfortable? They did something mean to me. I shouldn’t run away just so they don’t have to face what they did. I should go talk to them.”
“Let’s do it.” Peter agreed and you smiled. You blew out a nervous breath before walking up to the group of girls.
“Hey guys! So glad your schedules freed up.” You greeted them with a friendly smile. They all froze and either looked down at the ground or at you with stunned expressions. You took your time looking at every one of their guilty faces with an unamused expression.
“We were gonna text you.” Liz said quickly.
“Don’t even worry about it.” You told her. “In fact, don’t text me ever again. I deserve friends who include me. Not people who keep me around just in case they need something from me.”
“So what? You’re gonna ditch us to hang out with losers?” Liz scoffed and looked at Peter. You felt bad that Peter had caught a stray but he wasn’t phased.
“You’re the ones who just lost a good friend. And missed out on a fun day at the mall with the coolest girl in New York. So I’m pretty sure that makes you guys the losers.” Peter stated. Everyone, including you, was shocked to hear those words out of the notoriously shy Peter’s mouth. You looked at him and gave him a grateful smile.
“Yeah.” You agreed. “You guys are losers. You all say bad things about each other behind each other’s back and I’m sure you did the same to me so I can’t say I’m gonna miss this friend group. But I do have to thank you for ditching me or else I wouldn’t have found a real friend.”
“Who? This lesbian?” One of the other girls scoffed and gestured to Peter.
“Yeah.” Peter snapped. “This lesbian.“
“Now if you’ll excuse us, Peter needs to find a belt.” You said and walked away with Peter following right behind you. You didn’t drop his hand as you did a half walk half run through the mall as adrenaline rushed through you. Once you were far enough away from them, you stopped running.
“That felt good.” You said through an out of breath laugh.
“For me too.” Peter agreed. “And I was almost entirely uninvolved in that situation.”
“Come on. I wanna do the Photo Booth and immortalize this day.” You said and excitedly pulled him into the Photo Booth. Peter shut the curtain while you picked the boarder for the pictures, purposefully choosing one that had red hearts all over it.
“Okay. We only have five seconds between pictures so you have to pick your poses quickly.” You told him as the countdown began.
“But I’m so awkward. I don’t know how to pose.” Peter said as the countdown dwindled down.
“Just smile and look like you like me.” You said and pressed your cheek against his to smile for the camera. The camera flashed and you slung your arm around him for the next photo. The camera flashed again and Peter gulped.
“I do like you.” He said in a soft voice as he turned to look at you.
You looked at him and leaned in just as the camera flashed. You were still kissing when the fourth and final flash went off but you didn’t care. You pulled Peter closer by his shirt while his hands snaked around your waist. You pushed him away suddenly with a suspicious look on your face.
“Wait, do the webs, like, come out of your butt ever?”
“What? No.” He laughed. “They don’t come out of me at all. I built devices and developed a web fluid to shoot out of them. I don’t actually produce webs.”
“Oh. Okay.” You nodded and pulled him back into a kiss. He kissed you back for a moment before pulling away.
“Wait, would that have been a deal breaker if I did? Produce webs, I mean.” He asked you.
“I mean, I’d still like you but I don’t know if I could date a guy who could physically produce webs in his body. I just think that would really gross me out. Producing webs is I think where I’d have to draw the line.”
“So does that mean you’d date a guy who doesn’t produce webs?” He asked with a hopeful smile.
“Isn’t that every guy?” You pointed out.
“Oh. Yeah. I guess it kinda is.” He realized. “Well, would you date a guy who is far more likely to shoot webs from his butt than the average man? Given his spider themed career path?”
“Well, I don’t know. I never thought about that before.” You pursed your lips and pretended to give it genuine though. Peter playfully rolled his eyes at you and cupped your face to kiss you again.
“What do you think now?” He asked with your face still in his hands.
“I think I would.” You smiled and tugged his shirt to bring him back into a kiss.
Tag List
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luveline · 5 hours
Note
Hi I love you coworker! James series feel free to ignore if you don’t like this idea but what if Remus convinced reader to go to a karaoke bar with them and she gets a little tipsy and signs her heart out and James is just heart eyes over it
thanks for requesting <3 fem!reader
“What is that?” James asks, genuinely scornful as he points at you where you’re leaning on the bar. “Is that another margarita? Jesus Christ.” 
“You should be enjoying this.” Sirius smiles around the lip of his beer. 
“Why would I enjoy this?” 
“She’s coming out of her shell, isn’t she? You’re always calling her a priss.” 
“She is a priss, but binge drinking isn’t the same as extroversion.” 
Sirius taps their beers together. “And what are you doing tonight, James?” 
James scowls as you collect your new drink. You’ve had four or five by now and they’ve more than started to affect you, your giggling endless, your hand wrapped around the crook of Remus’ arm for balance. 
“Remus! It’s your turn, hun, get up here!” your general manager calls from the stage, a mic in her hand.
“Me!” you shout suddenly, to James’ shock and Sirius’ bright laughter. “Remus, please let me have your turn, please! I know exactly what song I want to sing.” 
Remus, who’d convinced you to come through a lot of pleading and a promise that you won’t have to sing at all if you weren’t ready, looks at you like you’ve grown horns. “Are you sure?” 
“Yes? Can I please?” 
You take his arm into your hand and you look at him with widened eyes, thumb rubbing a line that James zeroes in on, doesn’t mean to, can’t believe he’s noticed at all. He’s irked you’d even look at Remus that way. 
Because you’re annoying. Yes. Very annoying. 
You drink a good half of your Margarita and ask Remus to hold it for you before you take the steps onto the stage and chat with your general manager about what song you want to sing. You put your hands on the mic stand and prepare yourself with eyebrows pinched together, determined, even though you look a little shaky at the same time. Sirius nudges James from behind, the two of them joining Remus in the small crowd of your coworkers as the music starts. 
There are two screens for lyrics. A huge one for you, a smaller for everyone else beside you. You clutch the mic and stare resolutely at the bigger one as the melody becomes recognisable. James watches in what he thought would be smugness, but instead lays somewhere between awe and mild horror as you begin to sing.
The song is Brandy (You’re a Fine Girl) by Big Head Todd & The Monsters. James loves this song, he sings it every time he has to drive Remus to cornwall. He knows every word back to front and he likes how you seem to like it too, even if you’re butchering it, and the drunken slur to your words is ridiculous. You know the chorus well enough and sing it with a beaming smile. James maybe doesn’t like you, but it’s hard not to smile when someone else is happy like that. 
“Don’t make fun of her, James! Please don’t, she’s trying her best,” Remus says at his smiling. “And she won’t come again.” 
“I’m not,” he says, not bothering to look away from you.
Your eyes scan faces and get caught on his. He can feel the moment you realise he’s watching too, see your slight falter, and then, magically, your excitement. “James! It’s Brandy! You love this song!” 
Sirius snickers at his expression. “Mate,” he says quietly, “I thought you didn’t like her?” 
“I don’t.” 
You stumble a little where you’re standing and James has to stand extremely still so as to prevent his hands from reaching out for you. “James, I didn’t take your favourite song, okay? You have to sing Don’t Stop Believin’! Oh, shit–” You don’t realise your cue to sing the chorus until it’s halfway through, but when you do find the right words, you’re extremely passionate. 
“She sounds like Melly coughing up a hairball,” James says, wrinkling his nose. 
An emotion far from disgust settles hot at the base of his neck. 
“She looks cute,” Remus says.
“Sure, if you’re blind. And deaf.” 
“Well,” Sirius says, “you do wear glasses.” 
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forlorn-crows · 2 days
Text
𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒚 3: 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒈𝒆
pairing(s): aether/mountain words: 1318
“You’ve got to release all this, starlight,” the earth ghoul insists, prodding at the tension in his neck, his upper back. Some of it’s normal muscle tightness from playing, but Mountain knows there’s other, nastier things lingering between those tendons. Supernatural stress and magick that’s built up over weeks of healing and loving and caring for others.
The hurt he takes away has to go somewhere—and Aether’s learned the hard way that the things he takes on eventually have to be expelled. 
It’s a painful process, one that can’t be done without some help. In today’s (stubborn) case, the tough love variety. 
Mountain makes a questioning noise, looking over Aether’s shoulder at his face. “You’ll let me help?”
The quint ghoul sighs, tired and sore down to the bone. He really doesn’t want to do this right now. Not with his upcoming duties. 
“Darling, if you don’t let me do it now, you’re going to fizzle out on us,” Mountain reminds him, kindly yet sternly. He places a kiss on his temple and whispers: “I have the time and the energy. Let me do this for you now.”
Aether sighs heavily. Wishing the tension would flow out with it. “Okay,” he says after a beat. 
Mountain kisses him again, pats his shoulders. “Shirt off. Preference for incense this time?”
“The one that always smells fresh, with the . . . the, uh . . .”
“Verbena?”
“Yes, that’s the one.”
“‘Course.” Mountain gets up to gather supplies, leaving Aether to remove his shirt and settle into the floor cushion. 
Thankfully, it’s peaceful today. Quiet. He listens to the earth ghoul rummage around in the curio cabinet. The air in the greenhouse is warm, tinged with the smell of fresh-blooming petunias and magnolias from just outside the rain-dirtied windows. Aether closes his eyes and breathes it in. Rolling his neck and tuning into his body and the pain that hangs on his frame like an ill-fitting garment. 
Behind him, the scratch of a match being lit. Touched to charcoal and snuffed out on the worn bench top. 
“Have to let it burn a bit. Here, for your lap.” Mountain hands him a black stone that spans the width of his palms, cool to the touch and polished smooth. Obsidian, if he remembers correctly. Or tourmaline, maybe? He isn’t so good with the names, but he knows to place it in the middle of his loosely crossed legs, at the bottom of an imaginary line drawn down from the tip of his nose. Helps channel the energy, Mountain had said once. 
“Do you need anything else?” the earth ghoul asks in a soft voice. 
“No, ‘m alright.”
“Okay.” Mountain smooths his hands over his bare shoulders, raising goosebumps with each tender pass. When he runs his palms along his spine, he tuts. Hovers over a spot right under his ribcage. “That’ll be a tough spot,” he sighs. 
Aether nods in agreement. “Yeah, don’t know why it decided to settle there this time.”
“I’ll be as careful as I can, starlight.” It’s a promise he doesn’t have to vocalize, of course. Aether knows he will be, despite the strenuous task ahead of them both. “But we’ve got to get it done.”
The lack of crackling behind them signals that the charcoal is ready for the incense to be added. Mountain gets up to do so, and Aether sinks back into the calmness of the greenhouse atmosphere. A tiny square of light falls on his knuckles as he shifts on the cushion; he can feel the slight difference in heat move across his skin as he dips his hand in and out of the fractal. Zeroing into the moment, the calm before the storm. 
Before long, fragrant curls of smoke fill the space; tendrils of orange peel and lemongrass, jasmine and the tiniest hint of vanilla. And of course, the verbena tying them all together. All scents to help set the intention for cleansing and re-centering. 
“Ready?” Mountain asks, returning to sit behind him.
“Now or never, I guess,” Aether laughs tiredly.
The earth ghoul sets the bottle of oil next to them; a slightly amber liquid with sprigs of eucalyptus and buds of juniper berry suspended within it. His own blend, of course. He fills the well of his palm with the oil, rubbing in steady, counterclockwise circles as he warms it. Aether doesn’t have to see his face to know it’s firm with concentration, eyes closed and lips moving with unspoken words. Setting intentions before even touching the oil to his skin. 
Eventually, his hands make their way to his head, and the massage begins. Mountain rubs the oil into his scalp, starting at the very top between his horns, working his fingertips down to the crown, the occipital bone, and the nape of his neck. The way he works the oil is like following the pattern of rain down the stem of a flower, manipulating the tension—and the negative energy that goes along with it—towards the ground. 
It would be easy to lose himself in the sensation, if it weren’t for the emotional and physical force it takes to drain this pent-up byproduct of quintessence use. It sits deep down in the muscle, harboring pain. The longer it sits, the more effort will be required to siphon it back out again. Extraction rituals are usually painful, and in rare cases, near incapacitating. 
Swiss and Mountain, and on occasion, Omega, see to it that it never reaches that point.
“Breathe,” the earth ghoul whispers, shifting up onto his knees. The pressure comes on his exhale, bearable but targeted. Mountain digs into the tightness at the base of his neck, twin points on either side of his spine that hold until the muscle begins to release. Aether hisses through his teeth. 
“Bit more . . .'' Mountain sighs along with him when he feels things shift, however slight. His hands move further away from his spine, and he digs into another spot, working his way down the slope of his traps. Push and breathe, constrict and release. Mountain continues until he’s reached the curve of his shoulders, pausing to drip more oil into his palms. 
Doing alright? The lilt of Infernal on his tongue is warm, comforting.
Yes, Aether replies softly. He’s beginning to ache, but it’ll only get harsher from here. 
Mountain hums. Think loose, he whispers, aiming for levity. 
Aether chuckles and shakes out his shoulders. Wish that was all I had to do.
Then you wouldn’t get my hands all over your oily body.
You are making it sound far more pleasurable than it actually is, love. 
“Touché.” 
Aether snorts at the purposeful break from their native tongue. Come on, start jabbing me with your knobby drummer’s hands. The sigh Mountain gives is equivalent to a verbal eyeroll, and he places his hands, renewed with warm oil, back on the quintessence ghouls’ shoulders. 
I promise you a warm bath and a full night of cuddles for the impending torture. 
It’s silent as they focus on the task at hand—well, apart from the pained groans from Aether and the occasional grunt from Mountain. It’s hard work, plain and simple. A never ending cycle of heal, absorb, expel; a cycle that inherently relies on others. Quintessence is a funny thing, though, in that it will build up from disuse, too. It will beg with its weight sitting on the bones of one’s vessel to be used, to flow. The holder of the magick will have to eventually release the excess, essentially wasting it, dumping it out of an overflowing bucket. 
In that sense, Aether would much rather endure the pain of sharing, if it means connection over isolation. It’s a principle he clutches as tight as possible when Mountain’s hands start feeling like knives along his shoulders and down his back, when all he wants to do is sob and scream fuck your strong hands straight back to Hell.
𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✿
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