#despite doing everything the ninth asked of him

[asthedeathoflight]

It's very funny when people reading Gideon the ninth for the first time comment in confusion about how little people talk about "Dulcinea" but like. Actually we DONT talk about Cytherea enough.

Cytherea - who was dying for 10,000 years! Cytherea the miracle worker who was brought before God and he LIED to her and he told her and her friends they were doing the right thing and he WATCHED as they killed each other and he is DOING IT ALL OVER AGAIN. Cytherea who is trying to get God's attention but who is also trying in her own monstrous way to be kind. They all have to die because /the only other option is to become what she is./ Of course Jeannemary and Isaac have to die. Isaac has to die because she can't let him kill Jeannemary. Jeannemary has to die because she watched Isaac die and Cytherea knows there's no coming back from that. Dulcinea HAS to die because the only other option is to suffocate slowly in her own cancer for 10,000 years and Cytherea /can't let her do that./ The fifth and the fourth and the sixth and the ninth - they ALL have to die because if she could go back that's what she would have wanted. They don't know it yet, but in 10,000 years, they'd want it too. She didn't take her chance to die when she had it. They don't know how lucky they are.

And Cytherea who put on airs of being petty and selfish meanwhile she gave herself away until there was nothing left. Cytherea who hated God because he took everything she had without blinking twice. Cytherea who said over and over "me, I will" and whose sisters and brothers died around her and who wouldn't let them forget about Loveday - who loved Loveday when they all hated her.

Cytherea who held Gideon in her arms while she was dying during the siphoning trial and told her "remember this feeling. Remember how much it hurts. And if anyone ever asks this of you, you have to remember and say no." Gideon, who reminded Cytherea so much of Loveday. Cytherea, who /asked that of Loveday./ And Gideon, who went out and /did it anyway./

Cytherea, at the end of everything, who NEEDS to kill Gideon and Harrow because they love each other and she can't let them get it wrong like she and Loveday did, who sees the skull they're hiding in open and sees Gideon's body and sees Harrow pick up that sword and has lost despite everything, and who finally gives up and lets them kill her.

[edenesth]

[5:45 PM]

'Don't wait up for me! Go home first, Woo. There's food in the fridge.' — future wifey💘

Your boyfriend pouted as he read the text you'd sent him at 5pm. He had arrived at your office building and was waiting at his usual spot when he received your message. Normally, you got off work sharp at 5, but today you seemed overwhelmingly busy. Unlike usual, you hadn't even been very responsive during lunch hour.

Wooyoung glanced up and noticed that the lights in your office were among the few still on. Although it was still early, it was a Friday evening, and most people preferred to leave on time and deal with any leftover work on the following Monday.

How long could she take anyway? I'll wait.

Refusing to go home without you, he patiently waited downstairs, hoping to surprise you when you eventually emerged from the building. His unease grew as he watched more and more people leave, the offices slowly emptying, and the sky darkening, yet there was still no sign of you. There were times when you stayed late at work, but never this late.

Nearly an hour later, he sent you a text to let you know he didn't mind waiting and was still in the same spot, asking how much longer you would be. If you needed more time, he'd go to the nearby café for a drink while waiting. But he frowned when 10 minutes passed, and you hadn't even been online; his message was sent but still unread. The final straw was when his call went unanswered.

Despite feeling panic creep in, he tried to stay calm as he walked into the lobby of your office building. Breathe, Jung Wooyoung, breathe. He tells himself you were probably just really busy. But why? You had told him the peak season ended a week ago, so this should have been a slow week. It didn't make sense that you were working so late now. What weren't you telling him?

Crap, is she cheating on me?

Slapping himself on the cheek, he chastised himself for even entertaining such a thought. You had been nothing but the best and most dedicated girlfriend he'd ever had. How could he think that way about you? Now, he only prayed you were alright. What if something had happened to you? What if you had passed out? What if someone at work was doing something untoward to you? He remembered you mentioning a coworker who persistently pursued you despite knowing you were taken.

Well, that wasn’t comforting at all.

"Come on, come on, come on!" he muttered through gritted teeth as he watched the elevator numbers climb slowly. He only needed to get to the ninth floor, but the trip had never felt longer. His mind conjured up all sorts of wild scenarios, and his heart was pounding in his chest. He needed to see you right now, to have you safe and sound in front of him so he could be okay again.

Ding!

Before the elevator doors fully opened, he was already dashing out at full speed. The dim, empty reception counter of your department greeted him as he sprinted towards your office—the only place he knew to go. "I'm coming, love. Just wait for me."

He had no idea what to expect as he saw your door open, the light from your room spilling into the dark and silent office. Anxiety flooded him as he braced for the unexpected. And indeed, it was unexpected. His steps faltered as he stopped to catch his breath at the entrance of your office, eyes glued to the sight before him. He didn't know whether to cry or laugh at the extent of his overthinking.

Wooyoung let out a huge sigh of relief, his eyes softening as he took in your petite frame, now slumped over your workdesk, fast asleep amidst piles of documents. The glaring screen of your PC reflected off your glasses, which were crooked on your face as you snored lightly. Your phone, in silent mode, lay beside you.

This explained everything.

Your boyfriend approached you slowly, careful not to wake you yet. With one glance at your computer, he immediately understood why you had been so busy today. Your team leader's emergency leave had left you responsible for a case that ran into some hiccups. Scrolling down the trail of emails, he felt relieved to see that you had eventually solved the issue. The exhaustion must have hit you hard once the adrenaline was gone.

Gently, he removed your glasses from your face, placing them back in their case before running his hand through your hair, tucking loose strands away from your face. Unable to resist, he leaned down to press a lingering kiss onto your temple.

That seemed to have stirred you awake. You emitted a small groan and fluttered your eyes open, prompting him to step back slightly. But you reached out and held onto his shirt.

"Woo? Wh-what are you doing here?"

He shook his head, planting another kiss on your cheek before standing upright, his hands resting on his hips. "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you sleep in the office, hm? Pack up now, we're going home."

Your heart warmed at his words. Just when you thought it wasn't possible to love him any more, he continued to prove you wrong each time. "Yes, sir."

Despite his directive, he ended up doing all the packing for you as your sleepy form waited by his side. After shutting down your PC, he reached for your bag and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. "Come, let's go."

Suddenly, in the elevator, he found himself wishing the trip would last longer. He pulled your cardigan snugly around you, sliding an arm behind your back and resting his forehead against yours. Admiring the way your sleep-deprived eyes drooped adorably, he grinned softly, biting his lip. His other hand cupped your face as he whispered, "Just hold on a little longer, love. You'll get to rest soon."

You nodded with a pout, and the sight of your tempting pink, soft lips made a sigh escape his mouth. "Good girl," he muttered before leaning in to capture your lips.

His heart skipped a beat when, despite your exhaustion, you responded to his kiss almost instinctively, though a bit more sluggish than usual. His heart swelled with affection at how your body reacted to him, knowing it was only for him. Stroking your cheeks lovingly, he deepened the kiss, only to let out a disappointed whine when the elevator dinged too soon.

You giggled, gently pushing him away. "You know we can continue in the car, right?" His excitement reignited at the suggestion. Insisting he'd help you with your things and settling you in the passenger seat first, he felt his heart flutter as he hurried to the driver's seat. "Alright, where were we?" he asked eagerly, only to find you fast asleep.

Of course, she's asleep. What did I expect?

He chuckled in disbelief, securing your seatbelt and shaking his head in amusement. As he started driving, he slipped his hand into yours, smiling when he felt your fingers unconsciously curling around his.

God, how he loved you.

ATEEZ Masterlist

This is me failing miserably at my "try to stay loyal to Park Seonghwa challenge" because what the hell is Jung Wooyoung so attractive for? The way bro made me write the longest timestamp to date...

Also, guess who clowned herself thinking she could post the first part of Mingi's TWTHH spinoff this weekend?🤡 it's only 1k+ words in so far, I was out all day yesterday and didn't get to write much huhu but hopefully by next week, it'll be out! Hopefully🤞🏻

Anyways, hope y'all enjoyed this random little timestamp and as always, let me know your thoughts! <3

General ATEEZ Tag list:

@aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 |

@evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho |

@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @skzline |

@sharksandminhos @writingwieny @heyitsmetonid @tinyteezer @hollxe1 |

@pandabur666 @vampzity @tournesol155 @lilactangerine @oddracha |

@haven-cove @idfkeddieishot

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[slvt4felix]

I Could Never Hate You (Part ||)

Pairing -> ninth member!reader x Lee Minho WC -> ~2,700 words Includes -> lots of fluff, a little bit of angst, swearing, one small sexual innuendo, some Lee know tissue violence, arguing, Jeongin appearance, reader has anxiety but it's not mentioned as much in this part Summary -> Due to the late night revelations, you nearly forget all about your argument with Hyunjin. Will you be able to forgive him? Author's note -> I tried to make this one a little lighter to hopefully end this story on a much happier note. So don’t mind my dreadful attempt of comedy. Let me know if you want part 3! I hope you have a happy new year!

♡ Masterlist // Previous // Next ♡

You gently begin to wake up feeling something soft move beneath your head. You groan lightly, not quite wanting to wake up just yet. This has to be some of the best sleep you have ever had in your life. It's warm and cozy, and you somehow feel thoroughly rested, which is often hard to come by when on tour in a different country. Some may say the day before had exhausted you, or maybe the hotel room was just really nice, but as soon as you manage to blink your eyes open, you know the true reason. You have finally found your way back home.

You shift slightly, the sun, peaking between the curtains and painting the room a beautiful golden color, was unfortunately shining right in your eyes. Now facing away from the window, you glance up at Minho, still clad in his basic white tee and sweatpants. Neither of you had even bothered to pull the blankets back up, rather seeking warmth from just each other. The blankets are still ruffled at the end of the bed from whatever Minho had been doing before you had entered the room yesterday, unbeknownst to the life-changing events that were about to occur. You slept all night laying on his chest with his arm wrapped tenderly around you, holding you close. This is definitely the reason you slept so well the night before. Who knew cuddling with your enemy could have such a positive effect?

Minho starts to grumble a bit underneath you and you begin to panic, not wanting him to wake up yet. You just want to cherish this sweet moment for as long as possible, too afraid of how his brain will react when he wakes up. There's always the chance he will regret it all, or maybe he was just joking, or maybe he was drunk. Okay, that last one might not make too much sense but you can't help but worry through all the possibilities. Your thoughts begin to race, forgetting the most important what if. That maybe, just maybe, he really did feel the same about you and everything he said last night was entirely true.

A hand caresses your cheek, breaking you from your destructive chain of thoughts. Your eyes fall upon Minho with his eyes cracked open and a gentle smile gracing his features. He must have woken up at some point while you were too lost in thought to notice.

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" he asks, his eyes searching yours as if he could find all the answers to the universe within your gaze. You simply hum, not particularly fond of telling him the insecurities that were just previously running through your head. Although you love the man dearly, you are going to need a bit of time to learn to trust him again, but that's okay. Relationships need time, communication, and work to make them last.

You lean in to press a kiss to Minho’s cheek, his fluffy morning hair and groggy voice making your heart flutter. The two of you stare at each other, absorbing the moment. Despite the rough night four out of nine members had, there was still a lot of work to be done. In the life of an idol, there was no time for rest. But for now, you were going to appreciate the peaceful moment shared between the two of you. They hadn’t released a set time to leave yesterday, but neither of you worried. Chan will come around knocking on the door eventually letting everyone know when to be ready by. It’s the same routine that has happened at every stop this tour. The only difference now being you and Minho holding each other while waiting for the eventual interruption to come.

Just as expected, a hesitant knocking sounds through the room. Minho instantly groans and closes his eyes again. You sigh exaggeratedly, realizing you're actually going to have to depart from the warm bed. As you pull away from Minho, he frowns and makes grabby hands towards you, as if he wasn't well aware of the reason you were leaving. You swat at his hands, letting a small giggle escape as you approach the door. You swing it open without bothering to look in the peephole, assuming it was simply Chan on the other side to let you know the schedule for the day. Instead you open the door to Hyunjin, who appears very surprised as if he had almost expected you to not answer at all. Honestly, you probably wouldn't have answered if it wasn't for you believing whole-heartedly that it was Chan. Surprisingly, the fight from last night with Hyunjin hadn't been the first thing on your mind when waking up this morning.

However, as you stare at the nervous boy in front of you, you're reminded of all the cruel, harsh words he said to you just the night before. The look of annoyance was now seared into your brain. How could your best friend do that to you? Your heart starts to ache as you think about all your favorite moments with him trying to decipher how it could have lead up to this.

He brings his eyes up from where they shot to the floor when you first came out. Upon making eye contact, it's clear just how nervous he really is. There is deep regret painted across his face and sincerity within his gaze. He looks like he came with something to say, his mouth opening and closing again as he tries to get the simple words out.

"Why are you here?" you ask him, not too unkindly. You simply want to give him a way into a conversation; he looks scared half to death that your just gonna slam the door in his face.

"I wanted to apologize, I am so so sorry," he says, emphasizing the last part heavily. Just hearing those words is almost enough to make you cave and forgive him again. He is your best friend after all. You're pretty sure he didn't mean any of it, especially after the reassurances provided by Minho the night before, but it doesn’t take away all the harsh words that were spoken.

"Why would you say that to me?" you ask, hurt audible in your tone. "You know how insecure I am about that stuff."

"I didn't mean to hurt you, I was just really frustrated.”

“Well you did and it seems like you don’t even care how you made me feel.”

“Of course I care,” he says, offended at your accusation.

“Well it sure as hell seemed like you couldn’t give two shits last night.”

He simply stares back at you, regret running deep in his eyes. There’s a slight sparkle to them, enough to tell that he’s starting to tear up. He brings his hand up, scrunching the area between his eyes with his fingers. You almost remind him not to, telling him that it’ll bring wrinkles to his perfect face, but you hold yourself back remembering the unfortunate situation. Things aren’t okay between the two of you. It’s a weird felling considering it’s something that hasn’t really happened before.

Since the start of the band it’s really been you and Hyunjin. You were one of the favorite friendships for the fans to obsess over, and you loved it just as much as they did. You were two peas in a pod, never leaving each other's side.

You would’ve never expected for something like this to happen. Hyunjin wouldn’t do that to you.

But you have to think rationally if you want to keep the friendship. You can’t just throw all the years down the drain. He’s human, and he makes mistakes.

You hear Hyunjin inhale sharply from where he stands in front of you. You can tell he’s desperately trying to hold his sobs in, not wanting to make this about himself.

“Fucking idiot,” he whispers under his breath sending a pang through your chest. “Could we sit down and talk about it? I really want to make it up to you,” he says, regaining his composure. He straightens his back, his hands sliding into the pockets of his sweatpants. He nervously rocks forward a bit on his feet awaiting your answer.

As much as you want to talk it through, you’re not exactly comfortable with him right now. The idea of sitting down with him and being alone is definitely not on your to-do list. You need some time to process before you can get to that point. You’re sure that if you were to try to talk it out, it would probably turn into another argument, which is something you are desperately trying to avoid.

You glance back into the room, feeling Hyunjin’s eyes analyzing your movement. Minho is still in there, and it’s not really the time or place to dig deep into what happened. Time may be the main healer in this situation. He’s just going to have to regain your trust.

“Listen, now’s not really the best time. I’m not really ready to forgive you yet, but I’m not mad at you, okay?” He nods slowly, taking in your words. You can tell he’s disappointed, but he’s aware he’s not in the position to argue.

His eyes suddenly widen, a realization occurring. His eyes shift back to the room behind you.

“Is Minho in there? How did it go?” he asks, a sneaky smile growing on his face, completely amused at the situation.

"It went fine," you say shortly, trying to get Hyunjin to take a hint. Instead, he gently pushes past you into the hotel room. You would've shut the door on him had it not been suspicious. You spin around as Hyunjin struts into the room. You stare at him, confused considering you had just told him you weren't willing to talk right now.

You simply watch in wonder as he looks around, stepping back slightly when he notices an intimidating Minho, staring back at him from one of the beds. You may agree to be civil with Hyunjin while he attempts to make up for everything, but that doesn't mean Minho will. You're sure his typically empty threats will finally start to hold true.

Minho is still laying on the bed right where you had left him. His phone is in his hand, as if he had been trying to distract himself from listening to your conversation. However, it seems like the phone was neglected upon Hyunjin abruptly entering the room. His eyebrows are raised in a slightly annoyed manner. He hadn't been expecting Hyunjin to actually come into the room. His eyes shift from Hyunjin to you, and you quickly look away, embarrassed to be caught staring.

Although you would never admit it to his face, damn did he look hot while he was annoyed.

"You two slept in the same bed," Hyunjin says matter of factly, bringing you out of your thoughts. Your mouth opens in shock, not understanding how he could've possibly figured that out. Minho, however, doesn't take the moment of pause.

He instantly fires back, "Yah, don't start making accusations." He sits up a bit on the bed, prepared to chase after Hyunjin, like their fights usually result in.

"So, you're telling me you two did not sleep in the same bed?" he asks with his eyebrows raised in challenge. He glances between both of you as you try to figure out what to say. You don't want to lie to your best friend, but also based off what happened last night, he doesn't really deserve to know.

Minho beats you to it answering, "That's none of your business." He says it casually followed by a shrug of his shoulders. You nearly face palm, already knowing Hyunjin's reaction.

He instantly lights up, believing his theory to now be confirmed. He makes eye contact with both you and Minho, before he makes a run for it. He spins around and rushes for the door.

"Guys I won. I won the bet!" he begins to yell as he makes it to the hallway. Luckily, this was one of the few hotels you have stayed at where you had a whole floor to yourselves. There was a close encounter with fans at your last hotel, and they wanted to be extra cautious.

Hyunjin takes advantage of this, although you're not quite sure if it's purposeful or if he's just too excited to care. He goes to yell again, wanting to let the rest of the boys know the exciting news, but he is instantly cut off with a hand to his mouth. He recognizes it as Minho's, remembering the taste of dry tissues all too well.

Hyunjin nearly stumbles as he is dragged back into the room by the shorter man. Minho isn't too rough though, completely aware of his limits. He doesn't want to hurt him, maybe just restrain him.

Minho pushes him into the desk chair standing behind it. Hyunjin spits out the tissues, frustrated at being the victim of Minho's crimes yet again. He goes to stand up, eager to spill about your relationship to everyone, but he is kept seated by firm hand on his shoulder.

“Might as well tie him up while you’re at it” you say, giggling at Minho's antics.

“How’d you know I was into that?” Hyunjin retorts, a shit eating grin plastered on his face. In contrast, behind him Minho's face contorts into one of pure disgust. You can’t help but laugh at the craziness of the scene in front of you. The silliness is refreshing after the dramatic night before.

“Y/n, hand me more tissues,” Minho says, a look of determination growing on his face.

“I don’t know if that’s necessary…”

“He’s asking for it at this point,” he argues back, stretching his arm out obnoxiously. You shrug, unable to disagree with his point, emptying the last of the tissue box into his hand.

Panic fills Hyunjin’s eyes as he stares at you with deep betrayal. You simply laugh, aware that he's not actually upset.

Suddenly, all three of your heads snap towards the cracked open door as it's pushed open the rest of the way. It had been left slightly open after Minho dragged Hyunjin back in. You're nervous to see who it is, scared for the teasing to come if they find out. It's not that you don't want them to know about you and Minho, you just don't want to give them the satisfaction of being right. They've been trying to get you guys to interact again for years, so they are definitely going to give you a rough teasing over it. Plus, it doesn't sound like a bad idea to keep Minho to yourself for a little bit longer.

The door lightly hits the wall and the person is revealed. Jeongin is staring at the scene before him with wide eyes. The room is a little trashed due to Hyunjin knocking over a few things in the process of the kidnapping, and he looks terrified as Minho is holding tissues. It's definitely not the most welcoming thing he's ever seen.

He had come running out of his room after hearing Hyunjin yell, unsure as to what he had said. He was staying in the room next to you two and had simply wanted to check on Hyunjin or maybe join in on the fun.

However, this was not something he wanted to be included in this early in the morning. Hyunjin gives him pleading eyes, practically begging Jeongin to stay. The maknae doesn't listen, rather breaking eye contact and leaving for his room, too scared to be on the recieving end of Minho's wrath. He hadn't even said anything, his simple observance enough to make him leave.

That wouldn't be the end of it though, he knows he'll learn all about what happened eventually. He leaves with a small smirk, wondering if they had finally managed to finally get you and Minho to make up.

Next part out now!

Taglist: @armystay89 @thisisnotjacinta @silentreadersthings @seungminsapuppy

[lilacheavenxo]

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 ➸ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐫𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨

summary: carmen's girlfriend gets a job offer too good to pass up, he doesn't want her to take it. word count: warnings: angst, hurt (minimal comfort), misogyny, swearing, toxicity, timeline is sketchy, third person, unnamed ofc (she's a blank slate), light sexual content

The sound of the faucet dripping in the kitchen was the only sound coming from the otherwise silent apartment.

It was always silent nowadays.

She sat in the living room, wringing her hands together nervously as she fought the urge to re-read the email on her cellphone, which had been tossed on the coffee table in a haste.

The email bore good news. She had been waiting for an offer like that for most of her adult life—finally, an opportunity to do what she loved and be paid for it.

She had been a musician for as long as she could remember. Her dad had bought her a guitar for her ninth birthday, and from that moment, she knew exactly what she wanted to do with her life. She had spent her college fund on moving to New York, a dream of making it big clouding any smidge of rationality an eighteen-year-old could possess.

It hadn't worked out the way she wanted, and she was forced to move back to Chicago without a dollar to her name. Living with her parents and waiting tables for a living, she would play gigs in dive bars whenever she got the chance - a pathetic reminder of her failure.

It hadn't been all bad. One of those dive bar gigs was how she met Carmen Berzatto, at least.

He had walked into the bar halfway through her set, and, despite the white light in her eyes, she noticed him immediately. He was trying to blend in, his shoulders slumped as he made his way to the bar, hanging his head down as soon as he had ordered his drink, but she still saw him.

He had complimented her when her set ended and she slid onto the barstool next to his.

"You have a nice voice."

Everything following that night had happened quickly - too quickly.

They were friends first. He would come into the bar whenever he could, maybe stop at the diner where she worked on his way to work, and she would meet him at his restaurant when everybody had left, sitting on his work station, watching him sweep the floor.

Nothing had happened between them until after she had moved in with him. He had offered her his spare room after she finished another rant about how pathetic it was to live with her parents at her age.

She had only slept in the spare room for one week.

She loved Carmen Berzatto, and she was sure he loved her too, though he never said it. She didn't take it personally; when he responded to her declarations with a smile or a kiss, she knew he was just scared.

"You make me happy," he would whisper to her in the quiet apartment when he returned home at an ungodly hour.

That was good enough for her.

The jingling of keys in the lock snapped her out of her thoughts. She sat up straighter on the couch, waiting until Carmen appeared in the living room, his head down and shoulders slumped.

"He jumped slightly when he spotted her on the couch, a dim lamp illuminating the living room.

"You're still up?" he asked, as he made his way to the couch and threw himself down next to her.

She hummed in response, moving closer to him and resting her head on his shoulder, his arm wrapping around her shoulders.

"How was your day?" she mumbled, already knowing what his answer would be.

"Same as usual. Fuckin' bullshit."

"Wanna talk about it?" She knew the answer to that one, too.

"No."

"Wanna talk at all?" she asked, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. She rested her hand on the spot she had kissed, gently pulling his head down to meet her mouth with his. He sighed into the kiss, his arm moving from her shoulder to cup her neck. As he deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue into her mouth, he let out a laugh when she swung her legs over him, positioning herself to straddle him.

"You seem happy," he mumbled when she moved her lips to his neck, grazing her teeth against his adam's apple as her hands began to move lower, fliddling with the buckle of his belt.

"I got some good news today, feel like celebrating," she said.

"Oh yeah?" Carmen asked, a gasp escaping his lips when her hand moved to cup him through his jeans. "What news?"

"I'll tell you later."

"Tell me now, I wanna celebrate with you," he gently grabbed her arm, linking her hand in his. Her lips paused on his neck, and he could feel the smile creeping up on her face.

"Okay," she relented, lifting her head up to rest her forehead against his. "You remember Callum?"

Carmen frowned, trying to recall, but eventually shook his head and shrugged.

"Callum, Carmy," she said, eyes widening in disbelief when he shrugged again. "Callum! The guy I worked with in New York, he moved to Chicago last year and we played a gig together? He plays the guitar."

"Wait!" Carmen sat up straighter, and she held on to his shoulders as not to fall. "The creepy guy? The one that wouldn't leave you alone the whole night?"

"Creepy? What? No," she frowned. "Callum."

"Yeah," he nodded. "Creepy Callum, that's what we called him."

"We?"

"Me and Richie."

"Ugh," she groaned, sliding off his lap to sit beside him. "Callum isn't a creep, Carm. He's my friend."

"Anyone tell him that?"

She ignored him, wrapping arm arm around his shoulder, and resting her cheek against his. "You wanna hear my good news or not?"

"Sorry," Carmen sighed, leaning into her touch, and placing a hand on her knee. "Go on."

"Well," she tucked her legs under her thighs, leaning an elbow on the back of the couch to face him. "Callum's band have got this gig as a supporting artist for the US leg of this other guy's tour. He's not super famous or anything, but he's got a pretty big following, y'know?"

Carmen nodded, his eyes locked on hers, and he gestured for her to continue.

"Well," she said, rolling her eyes, "their lead singer left the band because of 'artistic differences' or whatever. And Callum has asked me to take her place! Can you believe it?" She squealed, grabbing his arm and shaking it slightly.

Carmen didn't respond, his body growing tense under touch, and the dazzling smile on her face slowly dropped at her boyfriend's silence.

"Carm?" she nudged him, lightly. "Isn't that great?"

"Yeah," he choked out, standing up from the couch and clearing his throat. "Yeah, congratulations, I guess."

He didn't look her in the eye as he headed towards the fire escape, muttering that he needed a smoke.

She didn't follow him.

An hour later, he climbed back through the window and sighed when he saw her still sitting on the couch, nervously chewing her thumbnail.

"We good, Carm?" she asked, her voice timid.

He ignored her question, leaning on the wall opposite the couch, and crossing his arms over his chest. "When?" he asked, his voice devoid of emotion.

"Uh, next month. It's short notice because of the other girl-"

"How long?"

"Like three months, there's only like two shows a week, maybe you could come and visit me-"

Carmen cut her off with a humourless laugh, sneering when he saw the confusion on her face.

"You're kidding, right?" he scoffed. "You know how busy I am. You think I can just drop everything to chase you around the fucking country?"

"No," she muttered. "No, of course not. I know how busy you are, Carmen." The bitterness in her tone was palpable.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," she shrugged, standing up from the couch and trying to push past him, but he blocked her path.

"If you've got something to say, say it," he said in a menacing tone, and she rolled her eyes in response.

"I have nothing to say to you."

She tried to move past him again, but he blocked her with his arm once more, his eyes piercing into hers. They stayed in a silent starting competition for what felt like hours before she scoffed, shaking her head.

"It's funny," she said. "You work endless hours at the restaurant, coming home at God knows what hour, and I support you because I love you and believe in your dreams. But you can't seem to do the same for me."

He threw his head back as he laughed, it was a cruel laugh, and it pierced her heart.

"Your dream?" he sneered, and she shrinked back. "Your fuckin' dream? Lemme tell you about your dream, sweetheart - it's pathetic." She shook her head at his words, but it didn't deter him. "You're a grown fucking woman still singing dive bars in Chicago! What? You think a tour of every dive bar in America with a few washed up assholes will finally be your big break?" he shook his head at her, crossing his arms over his chest. "Grow up."

He turned on his heel to leave the room, not interested in what she had to say, pausing in the doorway when she called out to him.

"I'm going on that tour, Carm. I sing because I enjoy it, because it brings me happiness. I'm not trying to prove anything to anyone. Unlike you."

He left the room, and the apartment, without another word.

Carmen didn't go home until the following evening.

He had gone straight to the Bear after their fight, not really having any other option, and sat in the office with his head in his hands for longer than he'd like to admit, the events of the evening repeating in his brain like a stupid pop song you can never get out of your head.

He shouldn't have reacted like that, he knew it.

A better man would have congratulated her.

A better man would have told her how proud he was, and pushed any doubt to the back of his mind and let her have her moment.

A better man wouldn't have belittled her achievement because of his own abandonment issues.

But, Carmen Berzatto wasn't a better man. He wasn't even sure he was a good one.

He thought about his family, how even in their most fucked up moments, they were always proud of him. They had never tried to force him to stay in Chicago when he had a better offer elsewhere, how they never dismissed his talents just because they didn't want him to leave.

He thought about Mikey. He thought about how he wouldn't let him work at 'The Beef', how bad that felt, but how Mikey was doing it for his own good. His brother wanted him to achieve things, wanted him to go out in the world and not be tied down by some toxic arrangement that would never make him happy.

He thought about how he hadn't done any of that for her.

He had been selfish.

He had talked down to her, patronised her, all because she would be gone for three months.

Three fucking months.

He fucked up.

He arrived back to the apartment the next evening, a box of cannolis from a bakery she liked under one arm, a bouquet of her favourite flowers under the other.

He wasn't good at apologies, especially in a relationship, but it was the best he could think of, and all he could do was pray she forgave him. She probably would, she always forgave him - even when he didn't deserve it.

Carmen had planned his apology the whole way home. He would hand her the cannolis and flowers, and he would tell her how proud he was of her, how he didn't care if she was going to be gone for a year - that he'd support her no matter what.

The apartment was silent when he entered, and eerily still. He called out her name and there was no response, but he expected that - she was a fan of the silent treatment, after all.

He checked the bedroom after his eyes scanned the living area and kitchen, not finding her there. The bed was perfectly made, no sign she had slept in it last night, amd the bathroom door was ajar, no sign of life anywhere.

He threw the gifts he got her on the bed, wiping his hands over his face as he made his way back to the living room and taking a seat on the couch, trying not to jump to the worst conclusion.

He noticed the folded up piece of paper on the coffee table after he removed his hands from his face, her cursive writing causing a sickening feeling to swirl in his stomach.

He unfolded the paper slowly, as if his patience would somehow change the words she had written on it.

Carmen,

Callum said I can crash at his apartment until we go on tour - it'll be good to get some rehearsals in.

When I get back, I think it's best we don't see each other.

I hope you'll be able to find what truly makes you happy.

I love you.

He threw the note to the ground, running his hands through his hair.

He fucked up.

[ariseur]

fem! reader with a virgin sephiroth? i think he would be so so sweet, i love how you write him <3

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ nsfw thought under the cut !!

okay i don’t write smut but i will gladly give my thoughts on these types of lil ideas……. because ugh i can just imagine how nervous he’d really be even if he tries to let you know that he’s completely ready. like, can you just imagine a lil nerdy sephiroth searching up articles on how to make you feel good??? no?? just me?? okay 😞

i feel like instinctively he’d wanna be on top since that’s what he had seen be performed, but he’d gladly take constructive criticism or switch places if you wanted to — he’d be a little shocked to know that there are so many different positions though. ughhhh.. he loves missionary and mating press, and when you asked why he loves it so much he says it’s just because he wants to look into your eyes to see if he’s doing it right.

speaking of that, i can just imagine him interlacing your fingers as he leans down. i can’t really see sephiroth as a big kisser? but i can see him placing soft, chaste kisses every once in awhile when he meets you in between that little gap you two share. despite it being his first time, he’s actually got quite the upper hand — his hand may be occupied with yours but his other one would find your chin to look up at him. eye contact is a big thing with him, he finds it so intimate regardless of whether it’s during sex or not, but he won’t get embarrassed even if it’s his first time.

he’d be so direct with his words so it might come out a little dirtier than he had hoped ( he’ll catch on quick with his teasing though, don’t be fooled lol ). so like minutes later, he’d gently grab your fingers and bring it down between your thighs before looking back up at you and all he says is, “would you demonstrate how you touch yourself?” or, “am i doing okay?” and UGH……… sephiroth PLEASE. in the chance that you’re more straightforward, i don’t think he’d mind, he’s very versatile. he doesn’t fuck you for an orgasm, he does it for the intimacy he gets to share with you, and he def discovers that when it’s his first time.

the fact that he’s trusted you to take his virginity is SO sacred to him ( as it should be with anybody ) and he wants you to understand that — with his words, with his touch, with anything and everything he can give you.

and he doesn’t even know that he’s big ugh so he’s just so gentle that he holds himself back so much and accidentally edges himself when he tries to focus on you rather than him, making sure you feel good too :(

he might not understand aftercare super well at first?? like he might just bring you a towel and.. try to clean you up with it 😭? but that’s all he knows, so it’s up to you to teach him proper aftercare for both you and himself !! if he goes a little too hard and your legs are still wobbly then he’s so amused with himself lmfao. but don’t worry, he won’t tease that much, he’ll just slip his arm behind your waist to support your back before ushering you to wherever you need to go :(((

( 𐙚 my taglist ; @snoopicle @ch3rryfiles )

( 𐙚 requests are open — july twenty-ninth, 2024 [ 5:50 pm ] )

[theemissuniverse]

“ALL YOU WANTED” EMILY DAVIS X TOUGH! FEM!READER

SUMMARY : You and Emily are best friends…but best friends always means something more these days right?

WARNINGS : lesbian smut

A/N : this takes place when they all go back to the cabin.

It hadn’t even been an hour of all of you coming up to the mountain and you were witnessing Emily Davis and Matthew Taylor break up.

All because she had went to see Michael.

Despite you being Emily’s best friend, you could see where Matt was coming from. Getting caught having a conversation was not a good look.

You were even surprised at Emily being your best friend but the two of you were the meanest people in your own way so it kind of made sense.

You were made her best friend by force though in ninth grade where she forced you to sit with her at lunch because she thought you were pretty. Now you two were besties.

For better or worse? You’d have to find out.

“God, Matt! It didn’t mean anything! Get over it!”

Mike raised his hand as if he was in the classroom. “I can vouch for that. Trust me, I do not want her anymore.”

You were sitting in a chair, eating a cookie, watching the whole scene play out. You knew something was going to happen and you didn’t know if you wanted to stop it or keep it going.

Emily angrily turned to Mike at the statement. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think he means he doesn’t want to fuck skank anymore.” Jess replied for Mike.

Not only could you not help but comment because you were Emily’s best friend but because you always had to make your own remark of common sense. You finished your cookie and dusted your hand off. “If that’s the case then why is he fucking you?”

Emily had laughed at what you said and bit her lip to hold back her smile. Matt shook his head, rubbing his temples in irritation while Mike just did a whistle and looked away from the situation.

“I’m sorry? Did I ask you to bud in Ms. School Drop out?” Jess asked you while standing up from the couch where she was sitting next to Mike with.

“No but something told me that you needed a reality check and well, here I am to give it to you.” You told her, brushing off her calling you a drop out with ease.

“Don’t you find it a tad bit pathetic you follow Emily around all the time?”

“No. But what I do find pathetic is you not having any men to choose from so you chose your best friends man.”

“Last I heard, your relationship is dead so you don’t get to tell me how to live mine.”

Emily had watched the whole argument, entertained because you were winning. Up until the last remark Jessica said and she didn’t think she could go lower.

Beth was your girlfriend a year ago. Before everything happened. You had blamed everyone for a long time. Healed from it. Even from Emily. Emily apologized multiple times, which was unlike her to be honest and you forgave her.

This is why you never forgave Jessica because here she was, throwing that in your face.

The room felt silent. As if they knew the damage Jessica had done.

You stood up slowly from your chair then began to walk towards her. “You wanna try that again?”

Jessica gave you a deadpanned look. She would be a little scared but she knew that Emily would stop you before you hit her. So she kept going. “Don’t talk about saving people’s relationships when you couldn’t even save your own.”

Emily saw your fist balled up and instead of you hitting her, you gave her a warning push. A push so aggressive, it landed Jessica back on the couch. “Hey!”

As much as Emily wanted to see you kick her ass, she knew it would be trouble. It wouldn’t be the petty cat fight that she knew she would face up against Jess. You knew how to fight and you knew how to hurt her.

Jessica came from a wealthy family and Emily did not want to see you go to jail for a petty argument.

Emily immediately got in between the two of you. Then stood right in front of you. “Calm down. She’s not worth it.”

Mike brought Jess towards him. “Both of you, stop it.” He said.

“I can’t do it.” You said. “I have to hit something.”

“Just relax.” Emily told you. “Breathe. It’s going-“

“See, Emily. All you do is bring drama and I’m sick of it.” Matt started to say. “Look what we’re all doing! Because of you!”

You had chose your target. You turned around, facing Matt. Then you gave him your best punch. Him falling to the ground and him holding his mouth.

“(Y/N)!” Emily scolded you.

You ignored her. Then you left out the back door.

You needed some air and were fine if you had to freeze to death in order to get it. You hated the way people got in your head. You were a hothead and it got the best of you sometimes.

Emily was right behind you. “Hey! (Y/N)! Slow down!”

You sighed and stopped in your tracks, allowing Emily to catch up to you. “Look I’m sorry I-“

“I don’t care, meat head! Put this on.”

You looked to see it was your jacket that you had left in the lodge. You grabbed your jacket and started place it on you.

Emily looked down to your hand and saw the bruises on your knuckles. She shook her head and placed a hand on her hip. “You really did knock the shit out of my ex boyfriend didn’t you?”

You sighed, feeling guilty of your actions. Emily was the only person who could make you feel guilty. “Look, Em I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have hit your-“ Then you had thought about what she said. “Did you say ex-boyfriend?”

“Yeah I did. He’s too soft for me obviously and I don’t have time for that. And he left my bag with all my expensive clothes in it! That idiot.”

You knew the two wouldn’t last that long but that was pretty fast you had to say.

Emily grabbed your hand and started to lead the way. “Help me look for it.”

“Ugh. Why do I gotta help you look for it?”

“Because I said so!”

You knew best not to argue with her so you let her lead the way. Besides, you weren’t going to let her be out by herself anyway.

The two of you walked to the picnic table area. Emily looked over to one of the tables and saw a carving. She dusted the snow off and saw your initials with Beth’s.

She felt jealousy when she had looked at the carving but knew she had to swallow it. “Wow. You must’ve really loved her huh?”

You were confused. You walked over and saw the carving for yourself and remembered. “Oh…that…” You leaned against the picnic table, looking down a little. “I liked her. A lot. Can’t say I loved her though. It takes a lot for me to do that.”

Emily nodded at your choice of words. It made sense. You’ve had a lot of girlfriends before Beth and you had never really loved any of them. Love was a hard thing for you and she understood that.

You decided to change the subject. “What’s so important in this bag anyway?” You asked her.

Emily smirked when you had questioned it. “Oh just my undies. The lace ones.”

You raised a brow when you had noticed the flirty tone in her voice. Emily would always flirt with you but you had always considered it to be friendly flirting and nothing romantic attached to it so you played along.

“Well we don’t need those.”

Unbeknownst to you, Emily was actually flirting with you. She had always had a secret crush on you but was too scared to do anything. Also, she was used to people hitting on her. Not her hitting on other people.

“You don’t want me to model them for you.” Emily asked you. She did a little spin so you could examine her body.

Your eyes darted all over her and it was at this point you were starting to realize that you also flirted with her more than the friendly way. “I’m just going to rip them off of you anyways.”

Emily had did something she never did before. She took a step towards you. Then grabbed your hands and made them be on her body. “You ever done it outside before?”

You were intrigued at how far Emily was willing to go to just play flirt with you which was confirming in your mind that she was serious. But how could she be serious? You two were just friends.

You had laughed at her question. “Have you?”

“No. But maybe I want to.” Emily went to tug at belt of your jeans which made you groan a little. You felt her breath on your neck and her kissing softly. “I cant with this on though.”

You moaned at the soft kisses that she placed on your neck. Yeah. She definitely wasn’t playing anymore.

Emily pulled away from your neck. She looked you directly in your eyes. You pushed away the hair that was in her face. She looked so beautiful to you.

Emily leaned in and kissed you on the lips. You didn’t hesitate. You cupped the back of her neck with your right hand and kissed her back.

You used your left hand to place on her hip and bring her closer. Emily moaned and continued to kiss you like she was hungry. She had been waiting for this.

It was freezing out but the two of you didn’t feel any cold. You were in each other’s warmth.

You just had to confirm something. You pulled away from her lips. The two of you slightly out of breath. “Wait a second.” Emily looked annoyed at you for stopping but waited for you to ask her what you needed. “Are we straight girl kissing or gay girl kissing?”

Emily shook her head at how unserious but serious you could be. “The second one.” She confirmed before going straight back to kissing you.

That made you more bolder in your movements. You picked Emily up by her ass and made her legs wrap around your waist. Emily moaned in the kiss while you sat her down on the picnic table.

Your lips went down to her neck. Instead of kissing you sucked on her sweet spots making her moan, gripping you. “God that feels so good.” Emily commented.

You pushed your knee in between Emily and made your knee make contact with her clothed area. She moaned at the friction you were going and made you pull away from her neck. “I can’t take this. Let’s go to the lodge.”

You were still lost a little. Surprised this was happening. “O-“ You couldn’t finish your sentence as Emily was already dragging you back to the lodge.

The two of you walked back into the lodge. Emily paid no mind to the people that were in the living room and dragged you upstairs, all the way to the room Emily had picked out.

When the door was closed, the two of you were back on each other. The two of you took your shoes off while you made out.

You helped Emily take her jacket off and throw in on the floor. Emily did the same for you. Emily pushed you on the bed. You sat there, watching her.

Emily’s hands went to your belt and started to unbuckle your pants. When she had finally got your pants to unbuckle, you grabbed her and laid her on the bed.

You got on top of her and took off her shirt. She was wearing a lace purple bra. You gave her a look. “All your lace underwear was in your bag huh?”

Emily giggled and kissed you. You kissed her back. You never kissed anyone the way you were kissing Emily. It was different.

That’s when you realized it was always different with Emily.

You unbuttoned her pants and helped her take them off. Her underwear matched her bra.

“Why am I the only one naked?” Emily complained while kissing you.

“It’s more fun that way.”

“Yeah, fun for you.”

You chuckled and removed her underwear. Leaving her exposed. You licked your index and middle finger before placing it on her clit and rubbing it in circles.

Emily moaned loudly. She gripped on your arm. You started off slow and teasingly. You didn’t have to do much. She was already wet from you.

You found your rhythm and started to go a little bit faster on her clit. She tried to meet your rhythm but any time she’d get too excited, you’d slow down.

“Stop torturing me, (Y/N).”

You laughed. You kissed her gently on the lips and picked back the pace. Emily moaned loudly in the kiss. You stuck your fingers in her pussy, knowing she was wet enough. The palm of your hand hit her clit while you kept the fast pace.

“God, (Y/N). Yes.” Emily tried to quietly moan but came out of extremely loud. It’s like she didn’t care to be quiet and wanted all the pleasure she could get from you.

Emily’s hands went to her chest. She held on to her chest while throwing her head back. You regretted not taking off her bra before starting.

Her clit constantly bounced off from the palm of your hand and Emily felt herself getting close. “Wait. I’m almost there. Stop.”

You kissed her on the neck. Licking and sucking on her sweet spots. “Why stop? I want you to cum on my fingers.”

Emily moaned at your words. “I want you though.”

You understood what Emily was trying to say and pulled away from her pussy. Then licked your fingers clean off. “Mmhm. I kinda want you to sit on my face.”

Emily shoved your shoulder, making you laugh. “No, (Y/N). Come on. I want you.”

You took off your pants. Then slid off your underwear and threw them somewhere. Emily was about to place her fingers on your clit but you stopped her. “Trust me, I’m already wet from you moaning.”

Emily bit her lip smiling and you got on top of her. You made sure to position your clit above hers before looking at her. “This is not how I expected to spend my weekend.”

She took off your shirt, leaving you in your bra. “Isn’t this so much better?”

“It is.” You couldn’t deny. You kissed Emily on her lips again before placing your clit directly on top of hers. The you were moving slowly.

You knew Emily all too well because you were best friends which meant you knew Emily never had sex with a woman before. So you tried moving slowly for her.

Emily was doing exactly what you knew she would do. Getting sensitive quickly. Emily let out a sharp moan. She clung onto your body, not expecting to be so sensitive. She was whimpering, pleading for you to get her to cum.

“You sound so sexy.” You told her. You tried to ease her in by kissing her lovingly all over body.

“Don’t stop. Oh god, yes.” Emily was practically screaming and you should’ve figured she would by how sensitive she was.

“Your boyfriends might hear you.” You jokingly said to her while kissing all over her body.

“I don’t care. Just get me to cum all over you. Please.”

You could’ve came off her just moaning for you. You should’ve figured Emily was submissive. She was a brat. You gripped onto her leg and went faster. Your pussies colliding against each other. Making the both of you moan in pleasure.

Emily’s hands felt like fire on your body. She unclipped your bra from the back and threw the bra on the floor somewhere.

As you kept your pace, you noticed Emily staring at you in awe. You tilted your head at her. “What?”

“You’re so beautiful.”

You weren’t expecting her to say that. You bent down to give her a sloppy kiss on her lips. She returned it.

“Mmhm. (Y/N). Let me get on top.”

You pulled away from her warmth and laid down on the bed. Emily got on top of you and placed her pussy back on yours. You chuckled at the gasp she had let out. It was far more sensitive for her to be on top than you.

“You sure you don’t want me on top?” You teased a little.

“Shut up.” Emily more so moaned and started to move on you. She didn’t go slow though. She went back to the fast pace you were doing.

You moaned, hugging onto her hips and helping her move. “Shit. Keep going. Just like that.” You went to unclip her bra and when you did, you immediately started to rub her titties.

Emily moaned at you playing with her nipples while trying to focus on her pace. “Oh god. (Y/N).”

You noticed Emily was losing her pace so you went back to her hips and helped her move on you. “Come on, baby. Move your pussy on me.”

You calling Emily baby turned her on and motivated her to move even faster on you. “(Y/N)?”

Noticing she was asking you something and not moaning your name, you nodded, still feeling immense pleasure. “Yeah?”

“When I make you cum on my pussy you’re going to be mine.”

You knew that was Emily’s way of asking to be your girlfriend but she was always the demanding type. You closed your eyes, feeling yourself become closer to release. You gripped her hips tighter. “You make me cum, you can have anything you want.”

Emily’s hands reached to your chest and started to play with your titties. You moaned at the touch. “I’m so close.” She told you.

You watched Emily’s chest bounce up and down. You couldn’t help but lick your lips. Seeing it was starting to make you close. “Keep going. I’m almost there too.”

Emily whined at how sensitive she felt herself start to get. You notice her slowing down some and you were so close you didn’t even want to help her anymore.

You flipped her on the bed and quickly got back on top. Your pussies continued to make out with each other. Wetness was heard all around the room and was even starting to go down your leg.

“(Y/N), I need you.” You felt Emily’s nails claw at your back and you knew it was only moments before she came all over you.

“Cum all over my pussy, baby. You can do it.” You said while kissing on her neck.

“Oh, god. (Y/N). Yes.”

You felt yourself coming undone, closing your eyes. “Fuck, Emily.”

“Yes, yes. I’m cumming. Oh god I’m cumming. (Y/N).”

You felt yourself cum and Emily was following right behind you. Your pussies became so wet that the juice soaked the bed sheets.

You continued to move until you knew both of you were done. You got up from her and laid down next to her.

Emily grabbed the blanket and placed it on top of the two of you. “I can’t believe I waited that long to do that.”

You chuckled before nodding. “Yeah. Me too.” You turned to look at her, seriously. “So…how do you wanna play this?”

Emily sighed, knowing what you meant. “They’re all just drama filled. I just want to stay up here with you.”

“It’s gonna come out. Especially at how loud you were.” Emily hit your shoulder at what you said and rolled her eyes.

“Well they’ll just be mad they couldn’t get me to scream like that.” She said before kissing you.

So you were with your best friend now? Not what you expected.

[imagine-that-100]

Will We Talk? | Part 4 |

Description of Part 1: Alex Turner x Reader | Being Katie Cook’s best friend means you see a lot of a certain band, so it’s too bad that the lead singer can’t seem to stand being in your presence. You’re all too aware that you get chatty when you’re anxious, and despite being around each other for a decade, Alex still makes your heart race (and not in a good way). But then he asks a question you never expected to hear, and it changes everything: “Do I make you nervous?”

Word Count: 18.2k

A/N: It's finally here oh my lord. Once again so sorry my writing takes so long these days but I'm so excited about this chapter. Thank you for the suggestions I got after I dropped the teaser, really appreciate all the help and it got my mind back into writing mode again. After this there's only one part left, but its going to be fun so don't fret. Really hope you enjoy this part, please let me know what you think. Thank you so so much for reading. Enjoy x

| My Masterlist | 

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

The run up to Christmas was fun. Fucking Alex every other day of the week had been a surprisingly needed stress relief that a month ago you would have never foreseen. Usually the run up to Christmas had you stressed for no reason in particular but this year with your stresses finally being relieved every other night it was so much better than other Christmas breaks you’ve had in a long time. 

Alex had certainly been making the most of your arrangement. It was him texting or calling you asking, “Are you free tonight?” Which may as well be directly translated to ‘Do you want to fuck me tonight?’. Every single time you said yes, not depriving yourself of such simple pleasures and it led to you having a very relaxed holiday season. 

And now Christmas is over and done with, you were excited for tonight’s New Year’s party. So much so that you couldn’t sit at home and just wait to get ready, you ended up texting Katie and asking her if you could help her set up and thankfully she said yes. 

For the past hour you’ve been listening to music and hearing the Cook's Christmas stories of Forest getting all excited when he opened each present. She showed you a couple of videos before Jamie took the little man out for the afternoon while you both got the house ready for tonight. 

Your catch ups are the best and you adore your best friend so much. The gossiping and the giggling never ceases and you’re forever finding new things to talk about, it’s a miracle you’ve not discovered everything there is to know about each other after a decade of being best friends. 

But it turns out there are some things you are yet to discover. Like a certain holiday that was being planned. 

“You’re coming on the impromptu trip away with us, right?” Katie asks, a little out of the blue as if she’s just remembering as she unpeels the Happy New Year banners from each other and handing one to you. 

“Depends, when?” You tell her, knowing the dates of this trip will be the deal breaker if you can go, “I’m back in work on the ninth, remember?”

You’ve joined the Cooks on impromptu trips away before, both with their family and their friends. You’re always invited, which you find thoughtful of Katie and knowing that these trips tend to be very random, you’d started saving money for such events so you didn’t find yourself missing out. The only time you denied yourself was when the trips clashed with work which you hope isn’t the case this time. 

“Oh, we come back on the seventh.” Katie grins, very pleased with what you’ve just said, “You’re coming.” 

“Yeah,” You find yourself giggling at her, knowing she probably wouldn’t take no for an answer anyway. You continue putting up the party decorations as you tell her, “Just let me know how much it is and I’ll scramble it together.”

“Oh no, Alex is paying for us all,” She tells you, as she seems to be having a hard time stretching the balloons out to start blowing them up, “You just need spending money.” 

You immediately frown hearing that, bluetacking the banner on the wall and turning towards your best friend to ask, “What?”

“Alex is paying.” She tells you, “It’s for his birthday. Has he not told you about it yet?”

“No, he’s not mentioned it.” You tell her. 

You figure it’s best to neglect mentioning how the singer only talks to ask how you are before he ends up saying the filthiest things into your ear as he fucks you senseless. Holidays and other things normal friends would talk about are not on the cards. 

He comes over. You fuck. He leaves. Interaction complete. 

“Oh well, he probably expected me to ask you.” Katie shrugs, not thinking much of it, “But yeah don’t worry about the money, he’s paying.”

You’ll see about that, you think as you continue helping your best friend decorate, putting the singer out of your head for the time being. 

~*~*~*~

I need to speak to you 

You text the singer as you’re walking home from Katie’s. You thought about just leaving it but you know if you keep what you're feeling bottled in it will just make you go back into your shell when you’re around him, and that’s the last thing either of you want. 

Thankfully those thoughts don’t have enough time to fester because about 2 minutes later Alex texts you back. 

Christ

Am I in trouble? x

His response makes you roll your eyes as you can practically hear him asking you. You know for a fact he will have snorted when he got the message through and when he typed that one back to you. So you keep him in limbo for a bit. 

You’re not funny 

Phone me when you’re free. 

Thankfully you’re not waiting for ages for the call. Your phone starts ringing as you turn the corner and head down your road. It’s a little embarrassing how excited you are to get back in your house for a bit and just relax until the party later. 

After greeting him, Alex gets straight to the point, “What’s up Y/N?”

“About this holiday,” You start, “Katie told me she wants me to come and I want to know how you feel about that before I start to spiral.”

You can already sense the panic in your chest as you feel like you’re at a bit of a stalemate. You don’t want to let Katie down but you’re also definitely not going to go if Alex wants a break from you. You don’t want to intrude on his holiday. Especially one that’s for his birthday. 

“Don’t spiral.” Alex begs, and you swear he’s also outside as you can almost hear the way he takes a drag of a cigarette before he says, “The last thing we need is you spiralling and questioning everything again.”

You can picture the smile tugging at his lips as he says that. So much so that him finding your panic amusing means that you silently want to scorn him. 

“I’m well aware of that.” You say a little bit too bluntly, so you attempt to soften the blow when you follow up with a rhetorical, “Why do you think I asked you to call me?”

Alex definitely mutes a laugh, covering it by him pretending to clear his throat. To make sure he doesn’t get himself into trouble he distracts you by asking, “What’s panicking you now?”

“The holiday.” You take a deep breath before you start to vent your worries, “Apparently it’s for your birthday, I don’t know if you want me there with what’s going on with us. The fact that you’re apparently paying... I don’t want you paying for me if I come.”

“I did tell Katie to invite you if she wanted to.” Alex reveals. 

“That’s not the point. Do you want me there?” You ask him directly, “I don’t want to intrude on a holiday that’s for your birthday.”

Alex takes a second to answer that, not because it’s a difficult answer but mostly because he wants to know, “If we weren’t sleeping together would you come?”

You think about it for a second and realise that you probably would, but not without speaking to him and asking Katie at least 30 times if you were actually welcome. Not to mention trying not to interact with him much when you were out there. And you certainly would not be allowing him to pay for you. 

“I still would have double checked with you first, or got Katie to. But that doesn’t matter, it’s different now,” You start talking about your reality again, “The dynamic has changed.”

“Y/N, we were friends anyway,” Alex sighs and you’re glad he can’t see the way your face contorted in disagreement. “The only thing that’s different this time is that we’ve seen each other naked.” 

You almost scoff. 

You’ve done a lot more than see me naked, sir. 

Feeling flustered at the memories of him fucking you flooding back to your mind, you just get back to the point, “So, do you want me there or not?”

And you listen to his response as you unlock your front door and get into your house. Feeling the absence of the chill from outside makes the singers answer all the more bearable. 

“I just want you to do whatever you want to. You can come and have a holiday. I don’t expect anything from you if that’s what you’re worried about.” Alex says sincerely, before adding, “And I am paying.”

“I don’t want you to pay Alex,” You whine like a child not getting their own way. But you add honestly, “It makes me uncomfortable.”

And it’s not even just because you’re fucking him, although that is your main concern. It’s the fact that you’ve barely known him properly before now (and you still wouldn’t say you were all that close in any way but physically), you can’t in your right mind let him spend thousands on a skiing holiday for you.  

“Y/N, I didn’t invite you to make you feel uncomfortable.” The singer sighs, feeling like you should know this already. 

He’s not ever excluded you from something before and he’s certainly not about to start doing so now. And he’s not letting you pay for yourself when everyone else who is coming is paid for already. Christ, he doesn’t really know why this is even a conversation when everything has already been sorted and paid for in advance. 

You feel like you’re whining when you again admit, “I know that’s not the intention but I still feel it Alex.”  

“Well, it’s up to you.” Alex shrugs, hoping to convey how much he’s unbothered by the fact he’s paying for a holiday, but he doesn’t want to pressure you. “You’re very welcome to come and I’m paying for everyone, not just you.”

“But-“ You start but then stop yourself. 

Alex immediately questions, “But what?”

He would rather know what’s going on in your head rather than be left guessing. He needs to know how best to reassure you otherwise you both will just regress. And he doesn’t think that wanting for your honesty is too much to ask.

You can’t bring yourself to say it. So you just leave him with silence. 

But that silence speaks volumes. 

“You worried that if I pay for you to come I’m expecting you to shag me?” A few beats of silence pass and as you don’t dismiss him entirely, he already knows it to be true. His question is entirely rhetorical, “That’s it, isn’t it?”

You can’t even confirm it for him. It’s embarrassing to admit, but that is a worry of yours. 

“Y/N.” Alex sighs, knowing he’s right because of your silence. “I don’t expect anything from you, you know that right? You can come away with us and we don’t have to do anything.”

“It’s not compulsory, even when we’re home. Y/N/N, you’re Katie’s best friend, you’ve been around for ten years.” He backs up his point some more, “You came on the last holiday we went on, this is going to be no different to that. My birthday just happens to fall on a day whilst we’re there.” 

“You didn’t pay for me last time Al.” You argue in a slight huff, already feeling like you’re fighting a losing battle. 

“Hey, listen to me.” Alex persists, “I’m paying for everyone to come, not just you, and I’m not expecting a huge orgy all week.” 

You can help the laugh that escapes your lips at that. It’s a full giggle that the singer can’t help but grin at as he takes another drag of his cigarette. 

“There’s that laugh.” He hums, enjoying the sound even more purely because it’s him that’s caused it. 

Only after your laughter subsides, do you ask, a lot calmer now, “Are you sure you want me there?” 

“Yes, sweet.” Alex assures you. And just to convince you some more, he adds, “I need someone to entertain Mrs Cook when I pull Jamie away for a pint anyway. Think you fit the brief.” 

“Ah yeah, I think I could do that for you.” You chuckle a little, but then you’re serious in a soft tone, “I still feel bad that you’re paying though Alex. Skiing holidays are a lot of money.”

“I have a lot of money that I’ll never need.” The singer tells you, and you try not to think about the way anxiety in your chest dissipates when he says, “I’d rather treat my friends to a week away.”

You're his friend. Something so simple shouldn’t make your heart swell. Especially when the other night he tongue fucked you until you came, twice. 

“Well I’m buying you food and drinks whilst we’re away then.” You counter, finally readying yourself to admit defeat. 

“We’re going all inclusive but thanks.” You can almost hear Alex’s smirk. 

You sigh, dropping down onto your settee and leaning back to try and get comfy, “Well I’m assuming we won’t be staying in the hotel for your birthday. They’ll be pubs and cafes I’m sure.” 

He counters, “I’ll take a drink at the airport before we go.” 

“Okay deal.” You accept but know you’ll find ways to do more than just that, “Thank you Alex. You really don’t have to do this.”

“Well I want to.” Alex smiles, and his tone is full of amusement as he says, “And I can’t have you spiralling.”

You hum in a silent laugh at that and let your eyes close as you take a deep breath. You’re about to tell him that it’s just how you are but you’re okay now you’ve spoken about it. But he takes your attention again. 

“You know that this goes both ways right, Y/N/N?” You’re about to ask him what he’s on about until he continues, “If I text you asking to come over, you can say no and I’m not going to be offended by it. I understand that it’s not going to happen every time.” 

He’s talking about fucking you. And trying to make you feel more at ease about your situationship. 

Alex finishes off by saying, “I just ask on the off chance that you’re up for it.”

“I am always up for it.” Are the words that slip from your lips, and when you realise what you’ve said, your eyes shoot open. 

Oh my god woman, you sound so needy. Backtrack now. Now!

You sit up as you begin to pathetically backtrack, “Well. I mean, I- when you say you are, I, I- usually am too.”

“Good to know you’re always up for me, sweet,” You can hear Alex's smirk then, but thankfully he doesn’t tease you more for it he just carries on to say, “It seems like I’m texting you all the time asking to come over but you can text me. You’re allowed to get horny too.” 

You try and fail not to flush at hearing him say that. Especially when you can feel the ghost of his touch as you’re sitting on the settee he had you ride him on a week ago. 

“Alex, you’re over twice a week, if not more... It’s not like I’m without relief for long.” To drive the point home you say, “It’s not a ten month wait again.”

In your little meetings you’d discussed when you’d both last been with someone else. Yours was a guy you were seeing at the beginning of the year who turned out to just not do it for you after you dated him for a few months. 

Alex’s last fling was another rebound of his after the French girl he cheated on Taylor with. Turns out Alex hadn’t been with anyone in the last 5 months which did surprise you a little. But who are you to presume he’d just become a slag after his break up? 

“Still. We started this for a reason.” Alex drives the point home, wanting you to fully understand, “You can say no and you can call me whenever you want too.” 

You nod even though he can’t see you, “I know.”

“Maybe this holiday can just be the friends you’re so persistent we’re not.” 

You frown, confused, “What?”

“Your rule, ‘no sex while we’re away’.” Alex smirks, but he’s sincere when he says, “To make you feel more comfortable. 

“I don’t wanna seem like a prude Alex I just don’t…” You fail to continue your sentence, Wanna seem like a prostitute. 

“I think of all people, I’m not the one who’s going to think of you as a prude, sweet.” The singer can't help but tease, finding himself funny. 

You take a deep breath, trying not to let your amusement or embarrassment show, “So where are we going?”

“The Alps.” The singer tells you almost smugly, “Where else?”

You decide that you may as well ask him for the details if he’s sorting everything out, “When do we go?”

“Early morning of the second, we need to be at the airport for like four.” He tells you after a moment of thought. 

You hum, finally letting the excitement for a holiday bubble in your stomach, “Okay.”

Alex is smiling already hearing you finally sound at ease about the holiday, but he can’t help but push his luck a little more, “You free tonight, sweet?”

“No and neither are you,” You almost laugh, the amusement clear in your voice, “We’ve got Katie’s New Year’s party.”

Alex is grinning as he comes back with, “I mean at like three in the morning.”

“You’re a horny fuck.” You can’t help but tell him as you shake your head. 

You’re entirely unable to stop your face from flushing, making you very grateful he can’t see you. All you hope is he’s picturing you with a completely unbothered yet 

“You’re the one that just said you’re always up for me.” Alex counters and you have to bite your tongue. 

Idiot Y/N. 

“See you later Alex.” You immediately dismiss him, not wanting his teasing right now. 

Alex laughs loudly, “See you later sweet.”

~*~*~*~ January 2nd 2019 ~*~*~*~

The Alps are absolutely mesmerising and you could stare at the snow covered mountains for days. The trip was certainly worth every single ounce of effort and you know you’ll be eternally grateful to Alex for him bringing you all here. 

You’re sure when you first got here you looked like a child in a toyshop. The views are absolutely stunning and you know for a fact that your jaw was agape as you took in the breathtaking scenery around you. 

So much so that Alex turned you towards him at one point and pushed your jaw back up and quietly teased, “Don’t let anyone else see those pretty lips parted like that, don’t want people getting ideas.”

Needless to say, you flushed hearing that and Alex wasn’t subtle about the way he let his smirk take over his face. And then he left you hanging, sauntering off to join Miles, Nick, and Jamie walking just in front of you, leaving you to catch up with Katie, Kristen, and Flo who all joined you for the holiday. 

Alex leaving you like this hadn’t been the only time since you’d woken up early today though. He’d been a tease since he picked you up to take you to the airport, asking if you’d recovered from the previous nights activities where he all but folded you into a pretzel and fucked you until you came on his cock. 

That wasn’t the beginning or end of your antics after the party, he’d teased you at Katie’s party, getting you in the mood and ready for him when he pulled you to a quieter bit of the party and pushed you against the wall to kiss you, taking away any sense but him. And he did it every time to leave you wanting more only for him to pull away and leave you to your own devices for a while. 

So you were desperate when it got to 3am and he was practically pulling you down the road so you could get back to your house. And he certainly did show you a good time until you practically passed out from the exhaustion. 

You woke up late the next morning to a glass of water and some painkillers on your bedside table along with a note that read, Hope you’re not too sore sweet x

It wasn’t hard to guess he probably felt a hint of guilt how far you’d both gone the night before. In the heat of the moment he said somethings about him wanting you to remember him, the feel of him inside you, over the week that you were both away. 

He kept making you regret the no sex on holiday rule. Alex kept saying how you'd be begging him to take you when you got back home, how you’d not be able to walk properly by the time he’d finished with you after a week of not touching him the way he knows your filthy mind craves him.

You're ashamed to admit that your thoughts about him are sometimes so dirty they belong down the gutter. He’d certainly made a good job of having you long for him. 

You try not to admit to yourself that you crave him. That when he decided that he was the one that was going to be sitting next to you on the plane and not Flo, you were happy. Not because you had any issue with Flo, no she was such an amazing friend to you, but because it was Alex. And he wanted to sit beside you. 

The little shit that he was though teased you the whole journey. You were still tired so when you sighed and closed your eyes once you’d relaxed after the take off, Alex whispered into your ear, “Did I work you too hard sweet?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” You say as you feel yourself flush knowing he was to do with your fatigue. 

You slept in a little on New Year’s Day after you’d taken the painkillers he’d left out for you, but then your day was spent packing for this trip, figuring out what you’d need and calling Katie to double checking on if you’d need going out clothes and doing a checklist of the skiing things you actually own. 

By the time you went to bed it was 11pm and that was far later than you should have been going to sleep because you had to be up at 3am to get ready. So it was do to Alex fucking you hard and long enough on New Years and the fact you had so little sleep last night that you were tired on the plane. 

Next, he’s disturbing your attempt at sleep by him putting his hand on your thigh and leisurely trailing his hand up and down, mixed with him occasionally squeezing. He keeps an eye on your reaction to him, you going stiff for a few seconds and him taking great pleasure in saying, “I’ve done worse than putting my hand on your thigh, sweet.”

“Not in public or daylight.” You huff and try to get yourself comfy enough to get sleepy. 

Looking out of the window just has you mesmerised so after a few minutes you just end up looking around the plane. It's just you and Alex sitting beside each other and for some reason you’re not all that close to your friends. 

Katie, Kirsten, and Flo are all on one row, about 4 seats ahead of you, and Miles, Jamie, and Nick are on the row behind them. You’ve got no idea why you’re so far away from them with the gap of strangers in front of you, but you guess things could be worse. You could be sitting alone or worse, you could be at home feeling like you’re missing out. 

There’s a stranger beside Alex so you’re glad you took the window seat and the views of sun rising through the clouds were amazing. You genuinely wish you weren’t as tired as you were so you could appreciate them fully. 

Instead you’re feeling uncomfortable and whichever way you lean your head isn’t helping you relax. If it's against the wall of the plane you can feel the vibrations, just leaning back does nothing to help and if you do fall asleep like that you’re not risking possibly snoring because your jaw is hanging open, and if you let your head fall forward that’s not good for your posture, not to mention painful. 

Maybe it’s you wriggling in your seat that gives you away, considering his hand is still on your thigh, but Alex seems to pick up on your discomfort easily. 

“You can lean on me to go to sleep, you know?” Alex tells you with a smile, nodding down to his shoulder just beside you. 

“What,” You hold back your sigh but let him know that you’re not all that impressed with his offer after his previous antics, “So you can just try to wake me up even more?” 

“Come on sweet.” Alex chuckles, rubbing your thigh again before squeezing it. “Not my fault you’re not finding it relaxing.”

Pretending that him gripping your thigh didn’t give you flashbacks to the other night, you keep your voice quiet as you raise your eyebrows accusingly, “Because you’re trying to be a tease.”

“And it’s working.” Alex smirks, clearly knowing whatever your tells are by now, he gestures to the back of the plane, “Wanna go to the bathroom?” 

Its a mixture of shock and being entirely unimpressed that has you asking, “Are you kidding?”

“Absolutely not.” Alex grins, holding his chuckle as he asks, “We’re not on holiday yet, technically. We could go again if you're not feeling satisfied enough before we land?” 

You don’t dignify him with an answer, you just shake your head and look away from the tease. While the thought of him fucking you and you having to be quiet because others are around seems like quite the thrill, the mere thought of doing so in a public aeroplane has you wanting gag. 

“What?” Alex fakes his hurt, nonchalantly following up with, “I know you can get horny just after you’ve woken up.”

Your head whips back to him, narrowing your eyes as you scold, “You’re being loud.” 

He wasn’t. His voice was just above a whisper. But the mere fact you were on a plane with the possibility of anyone around you eavesdropping has you getting all embarrassed and flustered in an instant.

“Sorry,” Alex barely holds back his grin. “I’ll be subtle about it when I take you in the bathroom.”

Instead of scowling, you lean your head back on the seat, close your eyes, and take a deep breath so you don’t end up smacking him. Taking a few seconds to calm your anxiousness down and try not to let his joking get you too embarrassed when you know he isn’t trying to be malicious, you just stay like that silently. 

But Alex disturbs your peace, “You don’t have to think about it so intently Y/N/N, we can just do it.”

“No.” You look at him again, and say even quietly to try and further your point, “Not to mention everyone would see.”

Alex can’t help but take that though as you just don’t want to right now. In such a public setting. That’s not you saying that you’d never be ready to join the mile high club.

“Oh okay, remind me to take you on a private jet.” Alex squeezes your thigh again, before winking, “They mind their business on those.” 

You’re lost for words for a brief moment. Taking in exactly what that means, and you end up half frowning. 

“Way to persuade me.” You scoff, “Telling me you’re already in the mile high club.” 

Sarcasm is thick in your voice as you say, “Such a turn on.”

The singer can’t help but smirk though, “Don’t be jealous now, sweet.” 

After that, Alex seems to give you a break from his endless torment. He takes his hand from your thigh as he reaches down to his bag by his feet and takes out the word search book he bought himself in WHSmiths at the airport. Finally you feel like you can relax and sleep for the remainder of the 2 hour flight. 

Or you hoped so anyway, but it seems the vibrations of the plane's wall just wanted you conscious. So it was with a huff you leant back against the headrest once more. 

“Just,” Alex sighs and he picks his hand up to cup the side of your face to gently push your head on his shoulder. 

Instant comfort was an understatement compared to the wall and the seat. But you still felt weird about it. 

You tell him with a sigh, “I don’t want to annoy you.”

“You don’t annoy me at all, Y/N/N.” He dismisses immediately, paying you no more attention after saying, “Go to sleep.”

And so you did. You got a good hour’s sleep and you think it was only when the plane started to make a steady descent that your body woke you up as a result of the decrease in altitude. But you woke up gently and slowly, and you realised you were still on Alex’s shoulder long before you opened your eyes. 

You found yourself not wanting to move. The woody scent of his aftershave leaves you in a little trance all the time and you never want to bring yourself out of it. So you just blinked your eyes open slowly and told your body not to even twitch to give away that you were awake. 

And Alex didn’t notice because you now see he’s entirely too engrossed in his book. Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre.

A true classic, you can’t help but tiredly smile as you see he’s about to get to one of your favourite bits of the book. You following pretty easily for a few pages because he’s holding the book open practically as far as it can go (you’re so tired you can find it in yourself to shudder at the fact the book will definitely have a cracked spine) in one hand, and you only noticed when he turned the pages that his other had gone back to gently resting on your thigh.

Everything is good for about 5 minutes, but then the singer started reading too fast for you at one of your favourite bits, so you end up having to say a quiet, “Go back,” 

“What?” You feel Alex turn his head towards you a little, his jaw gently nudging your head but you don’t make a single effort to move.

“Hadn’t finished the page,” You tell him and Alex can’t help but smile as he turns the page back for you.  

His only indication that you’re ready to move on is the slight nod of your head and Alex even angles the book towards your direction a little more so you can both read. He smiles at the way you haven’t attempted to move from his shoulder at all, seemingly quite comfy. 

You both continue reading together for the next few pages until the same thing happens again where Alex turns the page too soon. This time you whine a little as you whisper, “Too fast.”

“Not had you complain about my speed before.” Alex can’t help but tease when the opportunity is right there for the taking, but all it earns him is a poke in his side which makes him jump and he just about peers down at you seeing you smiling victoriously.

After this you fall into a rhythm of you nodding slightly when you're ready for him to turn the page. It doesn’t bother Alex at all, no it's the opposite, he finds you endearing that you’re both enjoying his book and reading it at the same time. 

The both of you become entirely engrossed in Jane Eyre’s world that you barely even acknowledge that the plane is just about ready to land. It’s only when the air hostess’ voice fills the plane as they announce over the tannoy that you’d be landing shortly, does Alex close the book. 

At the same time you reluctantly pick your head up from his shoulder, Alex offers as he taps the book, “Can borrow it after me if you want?” 

“I’ve already read it, I just love that part you’re on.” You hum, smiling at him in earnest, “Thank you though.”

And both of you know you’re not just saying thank you for that offer, but thank you for allowing you to fall asleep on him. 

The transfer to the resort even had you in awe. But when you got to the hotel and you entered your room, you were blown away by your view. 

The white mountains are stunning and you were so glad you brought your camera. This was something you definitely didn’t want to ever forget. 

The air felt like ice on your skin as you took your pictures, the bitter cold making you want to jump into the private hot tub you have on your balcony. 

You restrain yourself, saving that for later, you opt for a hot shower to settle you after that flight and you end up falling asleep in the warmest queen sized bed. 

You all meet downstairs a few hours later where you get some food and decide that you’re going to all get ready to hit the slopes, you all opting for the red runs for today. They were so much fun and with you skiing, you just find yourself in awe of Flo on her snowboard flying past you all. 

It’s a fun few hours, with you all stopping half way down the slope at one of the cafes on the mountain where you all have a hot coffee, and the lads follow it up with a beer. The lads head off before the rest of you, wanting to be speed demons and race down the rest of the way which you’re all fine with. 

You know Flo will inevitably end up beating them down anyway. Which she of course did. 

Before you set off though, you girls decide that after dinner you’re all going to have a little hot tub party. So that’s how you’re now sinking in the hot tub on your balcony, Katie already in after beating you to being the first. 

You just laugh at her rushing in there to beat you, as you take off your hotel dressing gown to reveal your dark green bikini. Katie says she loves the colour of yours as you glance back around at her and tell her you adore her maroon one. 

But it’s when you step into the tub that Katie gasps, loud enough for you to pause as you stand in the pool of bubbling water. 

“What are they?” Katie points to your thighs with wide eyes. 

Your bruised beyond belief thighs. Dark, almost purple bruises that litter the tops of your thighs which were left by the mouth of the singer next door. 

“Y/N!” Katie yells, her jaw dropped as she looks at the assault on your skin, “What the fuck?” 

“Katie, stop looking at me.” You get all flustered and embarrassed so you're about to sit down, but your best friend grabs your hips to stop you so she can look at the dark marks for longer. 

“Oh my fucking god.” She shakes her head, too shocked by the sheer amount of them. “It’s hard not to when you have those on your thighs Y/N!”

“Please stop, can we just pretend you didn’t see them.” You pry yourself out of her grip and finally immerse yourself into the hot water, loving the chill dissipating from your body. 

“No, I want the gossip.” Katie grabs her glass of prosecco you’d poured her and left on the side of the tub along with yours and the other girls that were meant to be coming shortly. “How’s it been going between you two?” 

“Fine.” You nod with a coy smile as you reach for your glass. 

Your best friend shakes her head, “I’m not settling with fine.” 

“It’s good.” You take a long sip of your drink, knowing you’ll need it if you’re having this conversation, “I guess he keeps me on my toes.”

“In what way?” She prys. 

You think about how to word your feelings for a second. The sound of the jets humming in the cold air fills the brief silence until you end on, “I’m still not used to having a booty call or being one. I still get a text off him and it throws me... He still makes me nervous.”

“That’s good though.” Katie hums and nods, “He’d be boring if he didn’t make you nervous.”

“Yeah, I guess.” You nod in agreement. 

But your best friend enquires, “He’s not making you nervous in general now, right? Just when he comes on to you?”

“No, it's a lot better.” You explain honestly, sinking into the water a little more. “But I’m still not at ease if that makes any sense. I still find him difficult to read.”

“That just comes with time.” Katie nods, understanding you entirely, “When you start spending more time with him, you’ll figure it out.”

“Well that doesn’t really happen,” You mumble a little but seeing as she heard you and noting that sparkle in her eye for the gossip, you explain, “He sort of just shows up and we fuck and then he leaves.”

Katie frowns a little at that though, “Thought he took you out?”

“That was just until I felt more comfortable around him. We’ve not carried that on.” You almost cringe when you say, “We’re just shagging now.”

“And how’s that going?” Your best friend smirks, “The bruises seem like a good sign.”

You sigh, “Yeahhh.” taking another sip of your drink. 

“What was that sigh for?” She calls you out. 

You try to pass it off immediately, “Nothing.”

But she’s not having any of it, “S’not nothing, come on.”

“He was just a tease on the plane but he’s doing it on purpose.” Your cheeks heat up a bit as you tell her. 

“Getting you ready for later.” She grins and gives you some teasing suggestive eyes herself. 

You gently shake your head, “I don’t think so.”

“Oh?” Katie raises her eyebrows, “What does that mean?”

Oh fuck. 

“Don’t make me explain Katie.” You pout. 

She pushes you, “Come onnnn.”

You just sigh in defeat and say, “We’re not doing that right now.”

“Excuse me?” Your best friend is now even more confused. 

“You heard me Kate.” You sigh, closing your eyes not wanting to explain yet another of your stupid thoughts to her. 

For clarity’s sake she has to ask, “Weren’t you with him twice last week?”

“We shagged on Boxing Day and then the 28th and New Years.” You tell her. 

And it occurs to you that you’ve probably not been this active on a regular basis since you were in your late teens. Either you or Alex clearly has the sex drive of a teenager and with the state of your thighs, you think it’s more likely Alex. 

Glancing at the bruises again you can almost feel the ghost of his mouth there. You fall into the daze of remembering the way his lips attacked the tops of your thighs as he fingered you to edge you, not letting you finish until you were begging to have his tongue instead.  

He toyed with you, saying his mouth was already on you, sucking your thighs that bit more before biting them making you whine. But you were desperate to have him eat you out. Have his tongue tease and flick your clit in the way he knows makes you lose your mind. 

And he wouldn’t give in. Not until you were on the edge for the third time, right on the verge of getting bratty with him and making the right decision he compensated by eating you out until you came twice on his tongue. And the way he fucked you afterwards, god, you wish-

“And he’s not touched you since?” Katie’s question shocks you back to reality. 

You blink a few times, and shake your head, “No.” 

She smirks, almost trying to hide it behind her glass, “I bet you’re losing your mind.”

“I feel like it.” You hum, nodding. 

Katie asks, fully ready to big you up to go and knock on his door after your girls prosecco party, “Don’t you want him to touch you?”

“I want nothing more at the minute.” You tell her honestly, “But we’re not doing it until after the holiday.”

She frowns, completely confused, “Why?”

Surely on holiday is on of the best places to fuck? Why wouldn’t you be doing that? Katie can’t help but think. 

“Because he knew I felt uncomfortable about him paying for me to come and I was worried he’d expect something from me.”

“Y/N.” Her face falls and then she gently scorns you, “He’s not like that.”

“I know he isn’t Katie. But you know how my mind works. It worries me.” You shrug, not really being able to help it. 

“Well I thi-“ Katie starts but is interrupted by Florence appearing at the door of your balcony. 

“Hey,” You grin, very thankful for the conversation being cut short. 

Hopefully never to be brought up again. 

“Flo,” Katie smiles and waves her over, “Come in.”

The gorgeous woman walks out and hangs her dressing gown up before running to the tub to escape the chilly air. After commenting on how much both you and Katie like her black, glittery bikini, the artist asks you both, “What were we talking about?”

You try to think of something quickly to change the subject entirely but your best friend gets in there first and grins, “Just how Y/N/N is sleeping with Alex now and she’s seeing if she can go the holiday without.”

You might drown yourself in this hot tub. Can you get any more embarrassed today? 

Flo’s smile is huge as her head whips around to you in shock. You can tell she’s happy for you, presumably for Alex too, but she shocks you when she tells you, “Don’t deny yourself the pleasure.”

You’re so beyond confused by that statement until Katie’s eyes go wide as she gasps, “Fuck, I always forget about you two.”

You blink a few times as you hear her tell Katie that it’s understandable she’d forget because it was before her and Jamie got together. But you’re still in shock, you have to get the clarification, “You and Alex?”

You hope it doesn't sound like you’re annoyed because you’re not, no one even Alex has to tell you anything about this and clearly Flo just found out about yours and her ex’s rendezvous. You’re just confused, clearly Katie forgot but you’ve not even heard any jokes about it or any mention of it before now. 

“Yeah, a long time ago.” Flo nods and is quick to explain as she grabs her glass of prosecco. “Lost our virginities to each other back in college, but started seeing him years later.”

She continues to explain with a roll of her eyes, “But the idiot was seeing me at the same time as Alexa back on their Favourite Worst Nightmare tour so I held my tongue for about a week until I blew up and called him out in front of all the lads…” She adds quickly, “It got ugly.”

It makes your chest go tight. He did that to one of his best friends years ago, and he did to his girlfriend of three years last year. 

You're sincere when you say, “I’m so sorry.”

You feel almost embarrassed to be sleeping with him now. Especially when you’d consider Flo a friend of yours, even before this trip, when you spoke to her about her artwork that she creates at various parties you’ve both attended. She’d always been lovely to you and made you feel entirely at ease. 

And now you’re sleeping with her ex. You need the ground to open up and swallow you whole. 

“Don’t be, it worked out well in the end.” It seems that the artist can’t keep the smile off her face as she finishes her story, “I went to Manchester and Matty and my cousin, Adam, got me through it. And when the time was right and I was healed, Matty asked me out and now we’ve been together for a decade.” Her grin is huge as she proudly tells you, “Married for three and a half years.”

It’s impossible to not be happy for her, her love for her husband shining through so brightly. But you can’t help but ask her, “Why are you still friends with him? Alex, I mean.” 

You can’t imagine anyone betraying your trust that much and being close friends with them years later. 

“Oh, it took a long while and a lot of grovelling on his part. But after two years of barely speaking to him, and with how happy I was with Matty, I forgave Al and now we get on like nothing ever happened.” Flo explains, “I see the other lads too often to let it continue for a lifetime of awkwardness.”

She’s a better person than you. You could never. 

You think out loud. “The lads didn’t know he was two timing you?” 

“No,” She shakes her head, taking a sip of her drink before saying, “They were as shocked as me when Alexa showed up. Only Miles knew, and covered for him.” 

You shake your head, seeing Miles in a completely different light now. But you guess if you’re judging Alex by how he’s only been with you, you have to do the same with Miles. 

“You’re too good. I would never forgive either of them for that.” Katie gives her two cents on the situation. 

“I’ve been told that a lot. By Alex himself too... But despite last year's shit show, he has changed.” Flo assures you, but then smirks, “So enjoy him, queen.”

You sink into the water a bit more, entirely awkward about the way both women are smirking at you. 

“Don’t be embarrassed. He’s good.” Flo giggles, “God only knows that if I didn’t call him out to everyone I would have a hard time choosing between him and Matty.” 

You’re glad she’s such a lovely person and she eases you entirely. 

“Good job you’re married then.” You joke, which makes Katie also spit out her drink laughing and Flo giggles before clinking her prosecco glass with yours. 

“You should see her thighs.” Your best friend laughs. 

You shoot her the dirtiest look, “Katie!”

~*~*~*~ 

Thankfully by the time Kristen arrived the subject of you and Alex had long since been dropped. 

Flo saw your thighs and she told you about how she thinks the man will never truly grow up because he left lots of love bites on her boobs when they lost their virginities, and mercifully after that, the subject moved away and the four of you are now just chilling and listening to your a playlist that’s blaring through your phone. 

You were all giggling at nothing in particular when you got startled by two men at the balcony door. Alex and Jamie come outside in their trunks and Jamie is the one to scoff, “You all thought you could have a party without us.”

Jamie practically jumps in and sits himself down between Flo and Katie, but your attention is drawn to Alex who sinks in beside you and you half find yourself wanting to scurry over to Katie. 

He looks too good. Last time you’d seen him shirtless you were drunk and your memory hazy, but he looks so fucking good and his toned abdomen and his trunks low enough for you to clearly see that V line down to- Stop. 

Stop. 

Thankfully Alex doesn’t seem to notice the way you get a little bit more tense with him beside you. Instead he immediately asks Flo, “How’s Matty, angel?” 

“Yeah he’s good, thanks Shakespeare.” Flo smiles, and despite not understanding her nickname for him, you happily listen in to distract yourself. 

Maybe it’s to do with the Macbeth reference in If You Were There, Beware? You can’t help but wonder. Maybe you’ll ask her later. 

The singer can’t help but ask curiously, “Why didn’t he join us again?” 

“Tour rehearsals.” The artist informs him, “His UK tour starts on the ninth.”

“Fair enough,” Alex nods, clearly completely understanding the situation Flo’s husband finds himself in. “I’m glad we aren’t back on the road till late Feb now.” 

“Bet you are.” Flo smiles at him but when he tunes into Jamie’s conversation, her eyes flick to you and she smirks. 

You sink even further into the water. 

Despite Alex now being beside you, you try not to let your nervous energy take over.  No, instead you carry on as normal and have some of the funniest conversations with the people around you. You’re only thrown off when you realise that an old Arctic Monkeys song comes on through your phone and your eyes go wide when Jamie sighs, “I haven’t heard this song in so long.” 

Immediately, you tense hearing the guitar and drums at the start of Bigger Boys and Stolen Sweethearts. Fuck, this is why you don’t normally have your music on around Katie, so you don’t have this awkward interaction.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise it was in this playlist.” You say, immediately turning to reach for your phone.

Liar. You feel Alex’s eyes screaming at you, as he looks amused at the fact you like his music, as if he already didn’t know. 

“Keep it on.” Jamie tells you, and you hesitate for a split second feeling Alex’s eyes on you until his friend continues to say, “Complete nostalgia of playing it at yours Al.” 

“Yeah, it’s a gooden.” Alex smiles.

“Who was this one even about Al?” Flo asks, entirely amused, thankfully stealing the singer's attention away from you so he doesn’t see you starting to fidget, really not wanting the song to stay on.

Your knee is twitching, your foot tapping on the floor of the jacuzzi like you can’t sit still at all. Thankfully the water and the bubbles will be enough to stop you from being noticed though.

“Just that girl I fancied back in Year 11.” Alex explains, “She was in your English lessons, I think she was called-“

If you were to tell the story again, you wouldn’t have been able to name the girl at all. Just that Alex really liked her in school and never got the courage to ask her out and then some guy who was in the year above them in school ended up going out with her. 

The conversation moved on and easily past that and your awkwardness about the man you’re sleeping with catching you having his song on your playlist eases off. But then, about 10 minutes later, it happens again. 

“Fuck my life,” You whisper immediately reaching to grab your phone this time. 

Because this is so much worse. 

It’s not just that Piledriver Waltz has started to play. It’s even more embarrassing that it's the Submarine soundtrack version of the song, it’s just Alex. Not even Arctic Monkeys.  

“Didn’t know you enjoyed my music this much, sweet.” Alex can’t help but once again tease you. Finding your reactions too entertaining not to. 

The panic in your eyes when the first Monkey's song came on, but the way you swore under your breath at this one just made him want to burst out laughing. You look absolutely mortified, and clearly not wanting to get any extra teasing from himself or your friends which you were likely expecting.

But Alex isn’t one to disappoint. So of course he teased you. 

You can’t help but narrow your eyes at him, “In the nicest possible way, fuck off.” Before you quickly look for a playlist that is safe and doesn’t have any of his songs on there. 

“It’s all good Y/N.” Alex smirks, “It’s good to know I’m doing something right.”

His hand comes to rest on your thigh to stop your leg from tapping. You swallow, stopping your movements and taking a deep breath to not let it get to you that the others could see his hand on your thigh. Although you’d rather them see his hand there than the bruises he’s left. 

Thankfully the bubbles disguise it from everyone else and no one comments, but just as you ask, “What album do you want to listen to?” Miles and Nick turn up at your door with more alcohol in their hands and everyone beckons them in. 

Which is an issue for you because the hot tub is probably only meant to have 4 people in it at the most and now there’s 8 of you. So you’re unsure why it’s you and Kirsten that have drawn the short straws, but you’ve both been pulled into the laps of who you’re sleeping with. But one second you were seated closely beside Alex, and now you’re sitting on his lap, your arm having to go over his shoulder so you don't slip off as you lean into him a little. 

Kirsten and Nick, you understand, they are married. Flo not sitting in Miles’ lap, you again understand because they aren’t together. What you don’t understand is why Katie isn’t on her husband's lap when they are married and have a child. But you, who has been sleeping with this man for less than a month, has been pulled onto his lap to make more room for everyone. 

All of a sudden you feel like you’re holding your breath and can’t relax. After being submerged in the warm water for so long, most of your top half being exposed to the crisp air makes you chilly and your thighs feel far too close to the surface of the water so you feel your hands in your lap to try and disguise the bruises. 

Thankfully one of Alex’s arms comes to rest across your thighs too and he holds your thighs again. And you can’t help slipping back into that little daydream of yours. 

Of the way he pried your thighs open, as if you weren’t already willing and dripping for him. As if you weren’t begging him to eat you out anyway. And when he finally gave into your demands his fingers only dug into your skin more, holding you open entirely at his mercy. 

And when he worked you up and up until he had your back arching and his name caught in your throat as you pulled harshly on his hair. He kept going, eating up everything you had to give him until you were writhing beneath him entirely overstimulated. 

After he blissfully tortured you like that, he kissed his way up your body until you could taste yourself on his tongue. And that only lead to him fucking you till you could barely move. His cock made you see stars when he hooked his arms under your legs and moved them closer to your chest. 

The pleasure he drove into you over and over was blinding, you saw white when you came. The only thing you can remember is the way Alex groaned into your ear when you clenched around him and the way he moaned when you tugged on his sweaty hair. And the way he bit your shoulder when he got his release not a minute later. 

Not to mention the way he flipped you over when you both caught your breaths and he fu-

“I can feel you.” Alex's whisper startles you out of your memory and your eyes snap to the man you were daydreaming about. 

You all but jump off his lap, your heart racing ten to the dozen feeling like you’ve been caught red handed. But you keep calm, not letting your cheeks heat up to give you away. 

“Feel what?” You ask him, the shock slowly disappearing from your face. 

“Your pulse,” Alex tells you in a low voice, his grip on you tightening, “On my thigh.”

And it dawns on you what he means. You’re fucking throbbing, completely aching at the thought of him. And he can fucking feel you. 

Fuck offfffffff. Men can actually feel that?!

No. No. No. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” You play dumb, having to because you don’t think you’ll be able to look at him again if not. 

Not that you can right now, you just look at Flo and start listening to her, Miles, and Kirsten’s conversation. Meanwhile praying to every god that there is that you calm the fuck down and you stop being horny immediately. 

“Course you don’t, sweet.” Alex kisses your shoulder and his lips linger on your skin as he smirks, “Just like you can’t feel me.”

You’re about to ask him what he means until he shifts you against him more and you can feel his erection pressed against your thigh. He’s hard. Really hard. You have to hold in the sound you want to make. 

Why the fuck did you want this ‘no fucking’ shit. You can’t stop thinking about him. The way you want to kiss him. The way you want him in your mouth. The way you want him to fill you up and fuck you like it’s the last time you’re ever going to be able to. 

You don’t even realise what you’re doing until Alex grunts in your ear, “I’d stop wriggling unless you want me to fuck you in front of these lot.”

Your thighs press against each other and you pray Alex didn’t feel that too. Despite him definitely noticing, Alex didn’t say anything, didn’t tease you any more and you just about managed to have a conversation with Flo about how she’s joining her husband on his tour and how she’s going to stay in Sheffield for a while after to see her best friend. 

But it’s not long after that, the alcohol runs dry and everyone notices the time. Nick and Kirsten are the first to leave, followed by Katie and Jamie, and when you don’t move from Alex’s lap (because he won’t let you, his hands clutching you tightly after you tried to move when the first couple left. Clearly doesn’t think the bubbles will  hide his hard on) Flo and Miles are the last to get out. 

Miles gives you both a cheeky smile and he helps the artist out of the tub and hands her the dressing gown. Both of them say bye to you and Alex but Florence gives you a teasing look as she leaves, seeming to scream at the both of you, have funnn. 

Your jaw locks and you very subtly shake your head at her, trying your absolute best to keep the smile off your face and show your strength. And you’d say you do well, you shout an unbothered bye to the direction they went and only when you hear your bedroom door thud shut does Alex’s hold on you go slack. 

And finally you release the breath you were holding and grab the side of the tub to stand up, needing off this man's lap before you do something you’ll regret. Abandoning your empty prosecco glass you just get yourself stood up when the singer stops you. 

“Where are you going?” Alex gently grabs your wrist and pulls you back to him, the water sloshing as you fall back towards him. 

“Alex,” You sigh as he moves you so you’re straddling him, but before you can even protest his mouth finds yours. 

His kiss takes your breath away, and he doesn’t give you time to think. He just wants you to feel. 

Alex attacks you with long kisses, three of them that have you forgetting that you were even trying to get away. It’s as if something ignites in you both, the mere connection of your lips has your skin erupting in goosebumps, and they aren’t from the contrast with the hot water and the cold air. 

But you seem to get some perspective and much to Alex’s disappointment, you pull back from the kiss. But he doesn’t let you go far at all, his hand on the back of your neck keeps you close enough your foreheads are resting against each others. 

“It’s just a kiss.” Whispers the man who’s got your heart racing, his hand pulling your neck that bit closer hoping you’ll kiss him again. 

“It’s never just a kiss with you,” You breathlessly reply, gently shaking your head, your nose rubbing against his. 

When he pulls you back for another kiss you can’t deny yourself the simple pleasure. Because it is never just a kiss. 

And it isn’t, because you’re not sure what this one is laced with, but you’re addicted. You don’t want to stop for a single second, especially not when he grabs your hips with both hands and pulls you against him properly. 

Your back arches, your chest against his now and he can feel your peaked nipples through your bikini top. He can’t help but groan, he’s been wanting to feel them against him in some capacity since he saw them through your bikini top when he lifted you onto his lap and you got cold and his head filled with filth about you. 

About how he wanted to pinch them between his fingers so you’d make that noise he loves. About how he couldn’t stop thinking about his head being back between your thighs when he spotted the bruises he’d left there. About how he wanted nothing more than to tease you in front of his friends, to see how far he could push you out of your comfort zone. And after he could feel you throbbing on his thigh he wanted nothing more than to make you cum over and over again. 

This kiss turns hard and hungry and it takes you enough by surprise that if you were standing you’d have stumbled back with the force of it. As you’re on his lap though, you can’t escape and you don’t for a second want to. Alex’s hands move your hips so you start grinding on him and both of you moan at the friction. 

You hope that the rumble of the jets hides them from anyone other than the two of you, and you pray to every god that Katie and Jamie haven’t decided to go into their hot tub as they are the room beside yours. Despite the wooden panelling hiding the balconies completely from potential neighbours, you need to keep quiet. But it’s so difficult when he’s making you feel so good. 

The more you grind against him, the more you can feel your stomach tighten with need. The way Alex is dragging you against his cock just makes you worse, your clit finally getting the friction it’s been aching for.  

Minutes pass of your whining, gasping, and mewling as he encourages you, taking handfuls of your arse to pull you towards him as he bucks his hips up into yours. His moans motivate you more, your hips now erratic in search for relief as he kisses you. 

Alex licks into your mouth like he can’t get enough of the way you taste. His groans spur you on, and his hand moving up to the middle of your waist has you arching into his chest again, and he can’t help but move his hips in time with yours, loving the little whines that escape your pretty lips. 

But he needs to hear more, so when you tug on his hair, and he bucks up into you, he bites your bottom lip when you moan so he can muffle it with his own lips. He smirks when he pulls away and he grabs your face, his thumb and index finger pressing your cheeks together as he grinds you against him again, his fingers digging into your hip ensuring it. 

The moan you let out for him then, you can’t suppress, and by the way Alex’s eyes seem to sparkle with delight shows you just how satisfied the sound makes him. Like it was intent all along to have you be loud for him.

“Do I feel good, sweet?” His voice a low whisper that has your throat bobbing.  

The singer kisses his way up your jaw before biting your earlobe, and he clearly wants an answer, “Well?” His hand falling from your cheeks to your neck and the slightest pressure has your head in pieces. 

“Mmm.” You hum in agreement pulling back enough to grab his jaw and bring his lips back up to yours. 

You refuse to let him mark your neck up again, no matter how good his lips feel on your throat. And at this point you know he’d do it just to get the both of you caught to see if you could withstand your friends teasing. 

This between you carries on for longer than it should. But that pull, that spark, between you, now ignited neither of you can get enough. 

“You like knowing you get me this hard, just from seeing the bruises I left on your thighs?” Alex rasps, as he kisses slowly down your neck. 

At this point, you think you’d do just about anything to have his lips on you or on your skin somehow. It’s addicting. So much so that you don’t remember the silly rule that you agreed upon, especially when Alex moves his hand  

“From seeing these,” Alex hums against your neck as his thumbs circling both your nipples through your bikini. “I can still feel them on my chest from the other night.”

His lips trail down your neck and the top of your chest and he kisses over your skin and his hands grab at you that bit tighter as he says, “I want my mouth all over you, sweet.”

His thumbs hook into your bikini top and he pulls both cups to the side, leaving you bare for him. His lips are on your breast in a second and the other he kneads in his calloused hand. 

Your head falls back, a moan falling freely from your lips as you grind yourself onto his cock as he sucks your nipple. Needing as much friction as you can get because you could easily finish like this if he carried on. But god, you want him inside you instead. 

Picking your head up, your fingers tug in his hair encouraging him as his right hand now grabs your arse again making you move on him. Fuck, you could cum just from this, easily if he carries on. 

He swaps to your other tit, lapping at it and savouring the sweetness of your skin and he can’t help but moan when you rut against him again. God, he just wants to have you like this forever, just free of inhibitions and completely giving into your desire. 

“Well, sweet? You like knowing what you do to me?” He teases, but he takes it a step further and he reaches between you and he presses circles onto your clit through your clothes, “That I like feeling this greedy thing throbbing on my lap for me?”

The sound you let out is guttural and completely obscene. To mute it you harshly pull his hair so you can press your lips against his to quieten yourself. But fuck knows if he even helps. 

His sweet torture continues and you feel the tension forming in your lower stomach, flames scorching your limbs, all caused by the man who’s name falls from your lips in desparate pleas, “Alex.”

His kiss is hot and heavy like a man starved, like he could never get enough of you. His hands claiming you is something promise you’ll never deny yourself the pleasure of again, those magic fucking fingers have you seeing stars. Each swipe of them against your clothed clit pushes you closer towards that delightful edge. 

“I- Al, oh.” Fuck. You’re going to finish, this is it and it’s going to shatter you entirely. 

His warm hands on you, the feeling of his chest rising and falling against your own, his body heat making your nipples perk from the stimulation. And his fucking cock that you’re aching to have inside you, he’s so hard all you can think about is reaching down and moving your costume to the side so you can line him up and fill you to the br-

So consumed with your thoughts and your erratic hips chasing the orgasm you're on the verge of having you miss the singer mumble against your lips, “Okay, that’s enough.”  

You only register when Alex’s hand now holds your hip to stop you from moving and you hear him say, “Stop, sweet.”

“No,” You helplessly whine, entirely cockdrunk at this point, wanting him too badly and you kiss him deeply again. 

But Alex only entertains the kiss for another second, before he pulls away and to stop your lips from following his again, he holds your jaw, “If you keep kissing me, we’re not going to make it another minute.”

You’re so breathless you barely understand what he means. But as you take a minute to get some oxygen back into your system you realise what you’ve done and god you want to lock yourself up and throw away the key. 

“I’m sorry.” You swallow, looking away from his gaze. 

“Don’t apologise.” Alex shakes his head, and you note he’s just as out of breath as you. And he gently readjusts your bikini so it’s covering your modesty again as he says, “We agreed on your rule, sweet, don’t wanna break it on day one now, do we?”

It’s his smirk that he gives you as he says the end of that which makes you say, “You’re a bully.”

Because he’s got you all hot and bothered, only to completely edge you and use ‘your rule’ as an excuse to leave you right on the brink. God you could absolutely throttle him. But knowing Alex, he’d enjoy it, so you keep your hands to yourself. 

The singer just laughs, “You love it.” And he taps your arse under the water to prompt you to stand up so he can too. 

Jesus Christ it’s only now that you realise how perishing the cold is, you practically jump out of the tub and run for your dressing gown before heading to the door. And you’re kind enough to hold the door open for Alex as he wraps his towel around his shoulders. 

It’s only now that you gulp seeing just how little the swim shorts disguise his erection. Standing at attention is an understatement, and there’s a little spark of pride that scorches your blood knowing you’ve caused that. 

You don’t let your eyes linger, but you know from the smug smirk on his face as he walks through the door that he’s caught you looking. And the prick opens his mouth, probably to bully you once more but you beat him to it as you close and lock the balcony door. 

“You don’t care about the rule, why’d you stop when I was clearly enjoying myself?” You ask as you follow him to the door to your room. 

“Because you were dead set about not wanting to before we came.” Alex tells you sincerely, and you can’t help your heart from warming that little bit as he looks you in the eye and says, “I don’t want you regretting anything between us.” 

Swallowing down the smile you want to plaster all over your face, you tell him, “I don’t regret what just happened, for the record.”

“Good.” Alex smiles, walking the last few steps to your door. And the singer is about to open it before he pauses, turns back and tells you, “Oh, and don’t get yourself off.” 

Immediately you frown a little. It’s a miracle your words don’t come out as a scoff, “Don’t think you have that authority.” 

The smirk that comes to those pretty swollen lips and the way his eyes darken is something that needs capturing in a museum. Fucking hell it’s definitely banked away in a certain area of your mind. 

“I could just fuck you now if you’re going to do that.” Alex raises his eyebrows, and you can tell he’so putting the offer out there. 

But after him saying it’s only day one, you’re definitely not giving in now. A week without fucking him. You can do it. You just can’t fucking slip up again. How embarrassing of you to have given in to your temptations only mere hours after your holiday began. 

Alex seems to understand your thoughts entirely so he quickly saves himself from a scolding,  “Think of it as being edged instead, don’t touch yourself. It’ll make next week more fun.”

Your still fucking throbbing for him, aching isn’t even the right word for the need for relief you’re feeling. It looks like your bullet won’t be being used while you’re away after all. But if you’re showing restraint, you certainly won’t be the only one. 

You nod, the corner of your lips tugging up a little seeing Alex smile down at you and as he reaches from the door handle to let himself out, you surprise him by saying, “Don’t touch yourself either then.” 

He looks at you again, his eyes entirely full of surprise that you’ve given him an order. But he’ll do it for you. He won’t be a double standard, so he agrees.  

Although when he opens the door and takes a step out, and you tell him, “Go get a cold shower.” He loves your brattiness.  

“Could share one of those?” Alex offers as he takes a step back towards you, his eyes bright and full of mischief as he smirks down at you. 

All you can think is, And end up having a repeat of the first time you were in the shower with him? No chance. 

“See you tomorrow, Alex.” You smile, placing a hand on his bare chest and pushing him towards the door perpendicular to yours. 

Alex chuckles, blowing you a teasing kiss, “Goodnight, sweet.”

~*~*~*~ January 4th 2019 ~*~*~*~

To say that the next couple of days were positively torturous would be a massive understatement. The cold shower you had after Alex left your room that first night didn’t do much to calm you down, the ache between your thighs didn’t disappear until well into the night of you tossing and turning in bed. 

At one point you were ready to march into his room and tell him how unfair it is to leave you on edge like that, and that it was unfair because you’d be so pent up that you’d have a miserable holiday. But then you’d realise you’d see the singer's smug smirk and he’d say something along the lines of, ‘You’re so greedy that you come begging me to get you off, is that it? You can’t go even a few hours without me, can you not? You poor sweet thing.’ 

So you chose to stay warm in bed, following his direction of not getting yourself off and you eventually fall asleep. You swear though that if he got himself off and didn’t stick through this with you, you’d be absolutely fuming. 

And you can’t help but be pleased when Alex eventually joins you all for breakfast the next morning, and he made a thunderstorm look appealing. ‘In a mood’ would be an understatement. The singer looked like he hadn’t slept a wink, he hadn't even bothered with his hair, it was still dishevelled, and his glum, tired face had a smile tugging on your lips.

Good. You like knowing you’re not the only one who felt absolutely tortured.    

You had to hide your smirk by taking a drink of your orange juice, sipping it through the straw as your eyes linger on the singer who looks like he could commit a murder if his breakfast was served wrong. Clearly though, you’re not being as slick as you thought you were hiding your amusement by taking a drink because when Alex’s eyes lock with yours he sees the knowing in them. 

Instead of shying away from him though, you stare straight into his eyes and let your smirk show when you pull your drink out. You even raise your eyebrows at him entirely enthralled that he looks so much worse than you this morning. Looks like it’ll be cold showers for him for the foreseeable future.  

Alex couldn’t help but find you equally as amusing that morning at breakfast. The smile stayed on your face for the entirety of your meal and he could tell that seeing him so affected by the lack of your company had somehow boosted your confidence. So, pent up he may be, but he’d suffer in silence for as long as he needed to see that smug look on your face once more.  

Alex made sure his teasing continued throughout that day and the next. His flirting and lingering looks had you more on edge than usual thanks to the fact you felt entirely touch-starved, but you couldn’t deny that he had your heart racing. 

On the slopes he would sometimes wait for you if he wasn’t racing the boys or Flo down the mountain, to make sure you got down alright and there would be flirting when you’d stopped at the cafe’s that were half way down the slope. And he had you buy him the promised drinks that made you come on this holiday in the first place so you were happy keeping your end of that bargain. 

He really made you smile today when you had a bit of a fall on the slope. He watched you fall but he stopped right beside you and made sure you were okay before getting you back to your feet and he went down the slope as by your side as he could get. And when you both reached the bottom, he played into checking you over, being cheeky and saying he’d have to get the layers off you to make a complete and thorough check. Something which of course you rolled your eyes at but you couldn’t keep the smile from your face. 

When you walked out of your room each night dressed to go for dinner he told you how gorgeous you looked in your dress when he saw you, whether that be him stepping out of his room at the same time coincidentally or when you walked down with Katie and he was waiting for you with the other lads. Tonight was the latter and the way he looked you up and down made you feel all tingly inside.

And this evening at dinner he sat beside you and when you were waiting between courses, Alex rested his hand on your thigh, and it wasn’t at all to try and rile you, he seemed to just want to be affectionate. And Flo is right, why would you deny yourself that pleasure. 

You know you’re nowhere near a relationship, or possibly even heading into that direction. But this fun you’re having with him, it doesn’t mean you can’t take comfort from the small meaningful gestures that you’ve found that you’ve missed since your last relationship. 

So yes, you’ve adored the flirting, and matched his energy entirely by giving him back as much as good as you’ve got which grants you access to that cheeky smirk you’re starting to love being the cause of. You pretend like your heart doesn’t do something stupid when he’s affectionate and you’ll continue to act like you aren’t dying for him to touch you and kiss you and fuck you until you’re back home. 

And all of this is the reason why right now, you’re absolutely seething at yourself. Why you’re now at this bar, side-eyeing the man who’s had you at whit's end for the past few days wanting god to do you a favour and stop what you’re seeing. 

You hate it, you absolutely hate it. Seeing Alex’s hand on her hip, the way he smiles at her as she’s talking, and the way he’s making this random girl laugh. 

It’s been at least 15 minutes now since he went up to the bar to get himself another drink and left your group at the few standing tables in the corner which you’d all claimed. And when you looked over after 5 minutes of him disappearing, you saw him at the bar talking away with possibly the most gorgeous woman you’d ever seen. 

Intimidated isn’t even the word you could use to compare yourself to the stunning woman. She’s just everything you’re not. Clearly she's confident to speak to a stranger normally and not at 100 miles per hour because she’s nervous. She’s absolutely gorgeous with the complete opposite hair colour and style to yours, and her dress accentuates all of her features perfectly, leaving little to everyone’s imagination but she’s so gorgeous and fearlessly self assured, there’s no way you could possibly compete with a woman like her. 

Your chest sinks because it’s so easy for you to realise just how jealous of this woman you are. Not just because she holds Alex’s attention and you want that back for yourself, you’re just hit with that intimidatingly jealous feeling you’ve not experienced for such a long time. And it’s such a dirty feeling, you really judge yourself for it. 

Because you’re well aware you’re not in a relationship with the singer. Yes you’re fucking each other but he could easily call that off at any point, especially on holiday when you’ve established you’re not sleeping with each other and that will make your self esteem plummet and not to be dramatic but you’ll more than likely never put yourself out there again, and you think that is valid enough if that’s how this night ended.   

To make it worse, the ladies you’re with, your close friends can clearly see that you’re slipping into a foul mood. A few times you’ve been asked what’s wrong, and you’d have to tune back into conversations and plaster a fake smile on your face because you’ve got so stupidly in your head about all of this. 

It was only when Katie followed your gaze to the bar did she realise what was making you slip into a bad mood. On the down low, when Kirsten and Flo were having their own conversation, Katie said, “Y/N/N?” 

“Hmm?” You hum, tearing your eyes away from a laughing Alex and the stunning woman.  

You look at your best friend as she seriously asks, “What are you waiting for?” 

Immediately, you’re confused, “What?” 

Katie can’t help but laugh to herself a little as you’re being so blatantly obvious to her. And she can’t lie, she secretly loves seeing you jealous, because she’s never witnessed it before. And the mere fact you’re being silently possessive over Alex is all the more amusing to her. 

“Just go and get him.” She encourages you, seeing that you’re holding your glass of wine that little bit too tight.  

She understands that you’re probably that bit more jealous too because you are bordering on being a little bit drunk. Your tolerance is slightly better than hers and she knows that you’ve drank near enough the same amount so she’s very aware how your thoughts are probably being manipulated by the alcohol. 

“No, if he wants to play he can,” You tell her and put on a brave face, turning away from him now in an attempt to not shoot daggers at him with your eyes, “He just won’t be getting me again afterwards.”

And you mean it. You won’t get caught up in that STD mess waiting to happen. Condoms or not. It’s a no from you. 

You drink with the girls a bit more then, the other lads make you laugh too but after a few minutes you become all too aware again that there’s a missing piece. And it’s like a wound to the chest when you see he’s still there talking to that woman and they seem to be standing that little bit closer, smiles still on both of their faces. 

Something about it hurts, and not due to the fact he’s being flirted with. It mostly gets to you because he’s being so kind to someone he’s just met and you only got that side of him after a ten years and only when you called him out for his behaviour. It makes your heart sink a little, you just don’t know why he wasn’t ever this friendly toward you when you were first introduced, yet he can be so kind, smiley, and flirty to a complete stranger. 

Up until 6 months ago, Alex would barely hold a conversation with you and something about that always hurt. The effort you’d make only for it to go unreciprocated when he probably knew how much it took for you to not be socially awkward around him. It’s a blow to your chest and to your ego. 

And to make it worst, he’s flirting with this girl as if you haven’t been fucking each other for a month and he didn’t almost fuck you in the hot tub the other night. As if the bruises he left on your thighs aren’t still very prominent and he didn’t edge you, leaving you craving every little bit of him for the last two days. And now he’s flirting with someone that isn’t you. 

And you can’t even blame the woman for flirting with him. He looks impeccable this evening. He’s in a black suit with a black shirt and he looks incredible. Like you’d do just about anything for him to pull you aside in this darkened bar and for him to whisper filthy promises in your ear before his lips find yours and he takes your breath away all over again. 

But you’re not so lucky. And your mood worsens when you see the bartender come back with two drinks in his hands and he places them in front of the pair. But it’s when Alex gets his card out and seemingly pays for both does your heart drop. 

Has he just fucking bought her a drink?

You blink a few times and force yourself to look away. The feeling that’s settled in your stomach not being one that you want to ever be feeling. Jealousy is such an ugly emotion and you wish it wasn’t running through your veins right now so you try and breath through it, letting the thoughts pass you by as quickly as they come.  

The people that know you best though, can see you’ve sort of checked out from the conversations surrounding you, and you’re staring out of the window at the snow that’s beginning to gently fall. Your best friend knows it’s not the same zoned out as you were awestruck when you first arrived on this holiday though, it’s due to you being in your head because of the man at the bar. 

And it seems Katie isn’t the only one, because Flo asks Mrs Cook quietly, “Should I go tell him?”

Katie notes that she nods over towards the bar, but your best friend immediately shakes her head.  

“No,” She tells her, “Let him dig his own grave.”

Because after everything last year, she wants Alex to prove himself worthy of having her best friend. She knows you deserve something good, and despite being 99% sure that Alex is just being polite to a fan at the bar, she wants him to prove that he wouldn’t ruin this good thing that you both have going for the sake of another woman who could pass as a model.  

So Katie distracts you, getting another glass of wine down you is easy to do and she has you giggling with her and Flo again. 

While you adore your friends for their distraction tactics, Alex and the stunning woman linger in your mind, and you feel like you need a second to quieten those intrusive thoughts. So you head to the toilet in hopes to clear your head but when you hold the sink and look at your reflection the clarity that hits you is that you’re drunk and probably (most definitely) overreacting, and you just find yourself wanting to close your eyes. 

So that’s why when you make your way back to your friends, who Alex is still not with, you decide your night is done. 

“Guys, I’m going to head back.” You tell all of them, “The wine has gone to my head and I’m so tired after today.”

Each and every one of their faces fall and they all start a little bit of a commotion, shaking their heads and shout over each other drunkenly pleading with you not to go. But it’s a singer who is the one that complains the loudest. 

“Noooo come on, Y/N/N.” Miles throws an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him as he says, “Party with us.”

You smile at him but there’s no way you’ll be giving in. You need your bed. And to get away from Alex and the stunning woman taking all of his attention at the bar. 

“Miles, you saw the fall I had earlier today,” You almost wince at the memory, “I’m knackered and just wanna get in bed so I’m good again tomorrow.”

“I’ll walk you back.” Jamie offers but immediately you shake your head, having none of it. 

“No, you’re having a great time, stay out. Have fun.” You smile, giving him a look to say ‘do not put on your coat’ as you put on your own. 

You’ll be perfectly fine getting back by yourself, everywhere is lit well enough to make the 5 minute walk back feel safe. And you could certainly use the time to clear your head. 

So you just smirk, wrapping your coat around you and downing the last of your white wine. And you grin, “I'll see you all hungover for breakfast in the morning.”

They all laugh at your little joke, knowing it’ll more than likely come to fruition, before they pull you into hugs goodbye. Flo, you realise, gives the best hugs out in the group, and she holds you tightly as she whispers in your ear, “Are you sure?”

You don’t hesitate to nod, “Positive.” 

She pouts a little as you pull away from the hug but you give her a kiss on the cheek and tell her to have another drink for you which makes her giggle and she promises she will. And then the only person left over here you have to hug is your very drunk best friend, and Katie all but smothers you with her bear hug. 

God you adore your best friend so much. Or you do until she easily reads between the lines and questions your actions. 

“This isn’t to do with Alex, is it?” She asks, pouting like she’s both angry and upset, “Because you can’t let him spoil your fun.”

You hate that she knows you so well, but wanting to go back to your hotel room is only marginally to do with Alex at this point. You know if you drank anymore tonight you’d be worse for wear tomorrow and you don’t want to ruin this precious holiday by staying in your room wanting to throw up. 

“No, I'm just tired.” You lie, trying not to even think about the fact that Alex not really giving you any attention and flirting with another girl was what triggered your bad mood in the first place. You tell her, “I just wanna get some sleep.”

“Okay queen.” Katie nods before she pulls back and she looks into your eyes to seriously tell you, “Text me as soon as you get back to the hotel, okay?”

“I will.” You promise her and after she gives you another hug, you turn to leave. 

You avoid looking anywhere near the bar even though you have to pass it to leave, but you’re quick and you leave out of the side doors and make it down the stairs fairly quickly. The automatic doors expose you to the cold air quickly and you’re so thankful you chose your long, navy dress this evening, even if you were regretting the slit in it that comes up to just above your knee when the wind hits you.  

Thankfully, your ‘going out coat’ is a long one, coming down to just past your knees, and would retain most of your body heat, so as you walk towards the doors you start to slowly button it up. But your buttons aren’t cooperating, they won't go through the bloody buttonhole. Clearly nothing wants to go right for you this evening.

And you end up not paying attention to where you’re going as you walk out of the bar, you don’t realise that the smoking areas out front has gotten busier so you end up turning to head back to your hotel and you bump into someone at quite a little bit of force. Immediately, you end up almost slipping too, not realising that the ground has become slippy too thanks to the fresh snow landing and melting. But before you fall arse over tit, you're saved by your own victim. The poor man you bumped into.  

“Oh god, I’m so sorry.” You say as you grab onto his tattooed arm that stabled you. 

And it’s only when you’re sure you’re steady on your feet do you look at the exquisite man. A gasp almost leaves your mouth at just how attractive he is. The strong jawline, the short black hair, the sun kissed skin, and possibly the most stunning eyes you’ve ever seen in your entire life. They are such a gorgeous shade of blue they almost look purple, and God, you half wish you could stare into them all night.  

“No worries,” The man holding your arm says, and once he’s satisfied you can stand properly again, his eyes drop to take you in. 

It makes you feel like your heart is in your throat for the two seconds he checks you out, but under the stare of those gorgeous eyes, it feels like it lasts an age. You can’t help watching as a small smirk forms on his lips, clearly pleased with what he sees and when his eyes meet yours again, you feel like your knees could fall from under you again if he wasn’t still holding you up. He’s dream worthy.

His fingers move down your wrist and he gently comes to squeeze your hand as he smirks but endearingly says, “Careful darling.” 

Immediately, the pet name makes you flush, and under his gaze you feel like you’re vibrating somehow, and you realise just how badly you need to get yourself back to your hotel. So to not make a fool out of yourself again, you cut the situation short.

“Thank you.” You give him a gracious smile and a small nod of your head before turning towards your hotel and safely begin to rush off. 

In your peripherals, you see the two other men that the stunning man was accompanied by and you’re glad you didn’t interact with them too, because they look just as attractive as their friend. You’d surely crumble under their gazes and start awkwardly chatting their ears off so you’re pleased to get away from both them and that bar. 

At least this gives your drunk mind a quick distraction from wondering what Alex and that girl are currently up to. You try not to think about how cosy they might have got or if either of them have made a move. No, you’d rather think about your embarrassing encounter with a model worthy guy who then checked you out and you said thank you to him. 

Thank you? God, you’re so fucking stupid for saying thank you Y/N/N, that doesn’t even make sense. Thank you for me bumping into you and being so kind about it? What was the thank you for? Silly bitch. 

God you really need to get to sleep. Your brain is absolutely spinning. 

Instead you find yourself focussing on the crunch of snow under your boots, how you can see your breath in front of you. And the gentle light coming from the lampposts illuminates the snow that’s slowly falling from the sky and you can’t help but think that it’s so beautiful despite it being so cold. 

Finally you manage to do up the buttons of your coat and your hands are stuffed in your pockets as you carry on walking. But it’s only a few seconds later, you hear your name being shouted behind you. You think you’re hearing things so you don’t stop walking, but then you hear someone running behind you and a gentle call of, “Sweet.” As he begins to slow down. 

Alex is out of breath by the time he’s beside you, and a gentle hand on your arm stops you from walking. A mixture of emotions runs through you in that moment, happy that he’s not with that girl anymore is certainly one of them, but annoyance at him for him even flirting with someone else hits you all over again. 

And it just makes your mood worse, because you absolutely despise being jealous. You hate it. You hate the tightness in your chest and you hate the way you start to second guess everything. And you don’t think you should be second guessing if you’re good enough.  

But you keep all of that to yourself, not wanting to annoy Alex or appear jealous or be overbearing. You’re just drunk and you need to get over yourself. 

“Sweet.” Alex says a little out of breath, “What’s wrong?”

“Absolutely nothing.” You say more flatly than you meant to and turn to carry on walking to the hotel. 

You’d scorn yourself for it, but you’re glad Alex doesn’t pick up on your tone. He just follows after you, falling into step as he asks, “Why are you leaving so early?”

“It’s almost one Alex,” You tell him, “I’m tired.”

You’re certainly not telling him that he’s a part of the reason you’re leaving. Even if he has finally given someone else the time of day for a brief minute tonight.  

Trying not to focus on the mixed emotions cursing through you, you end up telling the singer, “You don’t have to walk me back, go back to the bar.”

“And let you walk back on your own at one in the morning?” Alex frowns down at you,  “I don’t think so.”

You shake your head slightly at that, knowing he’s just doing that because of the story you told him about how you don’t like to walk alone at night. But you don’t want him here solely because of that. “I don’t need your pity.”

“There’s no pity, I’m just not a dickhead, sweet.” Alex’s smile then turns into a smirk as he throws his arm around your shoulders and he pulls you against him, “Now let me keep you warm.”

Your chest feels lighter somehow at his actions, and it makes you feel all gooey and smiley inside. But your brain is telling you to keep a hard exterior after what you witnessed tonight, so you try and brush him off, “Al, I’m fine.”

But the singer is having none of it. He just holds you tighter teases, “You’re moody.” 

“I’m tired.” You correct him, even though you’re lying through your teeth. 

“With your little rule, I thought you would have been reserving more energy.” Alex smirks, not being able to pass on the opportunity to torture you that little bit more. 

You don’t mute your scoff at that, and decide that silence is what he deserves after that comment and him flirting with someone else all evening. And it hits you all over again how up until a few months ago you’d only get silence and sneers from him, but that woman at the bar instantly got smiles and flirting. It makes you want to push his arm off your shoulder and you fall silent again. 

It’s confusing. Wanting to scold him but then also lean into him and accept the joy the simple pleasure of him hugging you brings you. And you’re feeling it all at once. You don’t understand it and don’t really know how to process it. 

Sleep. You need sleep. 

With his free hand, Alex digs into his coat pocket and pulls out his gloves, noticing you’re shivering, “Here take these.” 

“Thank you.” You accept them quietly and graciously and don’t waste much time putting them on, even if they are too big for you. 

Alex smiles once you have them on, and he squeezes your shoulder that bit tighter as he grins, “They suit you.” 

“Bit big, but I'll take it.” You shrug a little, and give him a bit of a smile so you don’t look like a colossal bitch. It was a kind gesture after all. 

Alex grins back down, his eyes bright as he says with a knowing look, “Well, you know what they say about big hands, sweet.”

Holding your own smile back, you fake a roll of your eyes and look away from him, “You’re not funny.”

“What?” Alex asks, faking innocence but smirking, “Just big gloves, nothing untoward.” 

You share an amused look then, both looking into each other's eyes and knowing for certain that was not what he was meaning. In those few seconds though, you can’t help but notice how gorgeous he looks, with the snow falling down around him, a few flakes having found home in his hair and he just looks so pretty and happy. 

You always want to look at him and see that cheeky smile looking back down at you. It makes you feel all warm inside.  

But then that crude sense of humour has to go and ruin the moment. 

“Anyway,” He smirks, “You already know how big I am. I don't think I need to remind you just yet.”

The way your cheeks heat up immediately is almost as embarrassing as the way your gaze snaps away from his. You just try to act nonchalant about it, shaking your head, “Way to lower the tone.”

“I think it was your dirty mind that lowered the tone, sweet.” Alex laughs and he has you giggling along with him. 

It doesn’t take long to get back to the hotel, and you walk in a comfortable silence with your head finally not filled with everything to do with the bar. You just enjoy having his attention back, and that he keeps pulling you back into him, and rubbing the top of your arm in an effort to keep you warm. 

You expect the singer to walk you into the lobby and bid you goodnight there before he heads back out to your other friends. But he surprises you, stepping into the lift with you and even when you’re going up to your floor he keeps his arm around you like he doesn’t want to let you go.  

“Thank you for walking me back, you really didn’t have to.” You tell him after he walks you to your door and you get your keycard out of your pocket. 

Only when you look at him again does he tell you, “Stop thanking me for being a decent human being.”

You smile at him for a second there, and it is a truly grateful one. Despite everything tonight, you really are thankful he came back with you. If not for your safety, but then at least for your peace of mind about what he was up to when you left. Your chest fills with the hatred of the jealousy you’re feeling once more. 

But it’s like the man looking at you can somehow read your emotions. Because he once again flips them on their head when he takes you in again and sees how gorgeous you look in that navy dress and the way it hugs you. 

He seems a little breathless as he says, “You really do look incredible tonight by the way.” 

You look down at yourself, really not thinking you looked anything more than presentable tonight. But two men have checked you out this evening and seemed pleased with what they saw, and you know Alex well enough now to know that he doesn’t just say these things, he actually means them. 

“I- Thank you.” You stumble for a second, but gladly take the compliment. 

As you turn to open your door, Alex takes a step towards his, which makes you frown. He’s going to bed?

“You can go back out, you know?” You say before he even takes another step. 

You don’t really understand why he’d be going to his room when he could go back out and have a good time with either your friends or the stunning woman he was chatting to. Surely he didn’t just leave because you did?

Alex shrugs, and takes a step back towards you, “Don’t want to.”

“Why?” You can’t help but question, “Looked like you were having a good time.”

“Not that good, I wasn’t spending it with you.” Alex shamelessly flirts as he comes to stand right beside you again, hoping to see you get all flustered. 

He adores being the cause of it, and he even likes when you run your mouth back at him and flirt with him too. It makes him happier than he should admit to himself at this point in your little arrangement. But you shock him completely and don’t do either of those things.

No, instead Alex watches as you tense slightly and you become ridged. The smile falling from your face entirely. 

“You knew where I was.” You shrug, not knowing what more you could have done. It’s not like you could go up to him and demand his attention, or steal him away and he figures out why and he teases you for it.  

You just turn back towards your door and mumble under your breath as you put the card in, “Besides, it seems that you found her quite interesting.” 

This has Alex smirking, possibly the biggest he ever has. Not that you can see that smirk as you’re still fumbling about with your keycard and putting it in the door the wrong way. So it gives him a little time to compose himself enough that you won’t hate him when he gets you to look at him again. 

You’re jealous. Hence the mood, short replies, and the pout that was just seeping onto your face… It all makes perfect sense now. 

Alex tones his smirk down into a slight grin before he get your attention again, “Sweet?” 

“What?” You ask, just about managing to open your door before you turn back to him. 

And it’s only when you do, you see the way he’s looking at you. His amusement is clear to see, but he doesn’t say anything. He just takes a step close to you, and before you really know it his lips are on yours and he gently eases you backwards until your back is against the heavy door you’ve not opened more than an inch. 

It’s a sweet kiss, full of longing and care and words you’ve both yet to say. And the way he gently holds your waist, pulling you against him now, his arm running inside your coat and around your back so he can press you fully against him as his lips move in sync with yours. His hand on your jaw moves that bit higher, so his thumb can caress your cheek and you think this might be the sweetest kiss you’ve ever shared.

It’s gentle and full of emotion, even when his tongue finds home with yours. It makes the both of you hot despite both of your lips softly moving together. Something about it runs deeper, like he’s trying to tell you something without explicitly coming out with it. 

His hold on your waist gets that bit tighter which has you melting into him. Unable to stop yourself, you also let out a tiny hum of bliss against his lips and you hold his coat in your fist that bit tighter. This is what you’ve been after all night. This is what you’ve been craving. Him and every last bit of him. 

Even when the kiss comes to its natural end, you wish it wasn’t finished. And you’re glad that it doesn’t seem to be. But the man who makes your heart skip a beat says something you really aren’t expecting. 

“I’m only interested in sleeping with you.” Alex tells you, before he leaves you with one last breathless kiss. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: What did you think?!?!? NRIACC bestiesssss!! How was it seeing Wheels again?! She's my multiverse I had to hahaha! But how bloody cute are Sweet and Alex, god I adore them so so much. Until next time besties x

Taglist: @alovesreading @kennedy-brooke @red---moon @ladydraculasthings @mrsschw4rtz @quicksilvers3000 @indierockgirrl @heartachenurse @bellaturner @am-monkey @alexturnersmommy @anxiousbeech @cassettecarter @malina-33 @yourorganiccigarette @clownrrai @harleyql @jeonxjinxed @andrews-lovr @justacaliforniandreamer @missbabyjay @hdebay @mirrorbvii​ @olliemybeloved777 @kaybee87​ @simpfortoomanymen​ @inmyownfantasywrld​ @ohladymoon​ @findmeincorneliastreet​ @faveficz​ @parkerizzy​ @thereisaplaceintheheart​ @hazskillerqueen​ @bai-wuxiangs-mask​ @froileinuhrwerk @turnerxtuned @inmyownfantasywrld @missbabyjay @regenerationlottery @heartachenurse @cassettecarter @cylodja @aghsed @harleyql @littlemissthunderstorms @thenightslikeawhiirlwind @not-a-big-slay @raven-ql @minigods @indierockgirrl @yourfwn @frigidbaboon @kittyrob0t @certifiedmindbl0wer

Let me know if you want to be added to the Taglist x

[spectres-n-soap]

The Rain Is Cold and You Are Gone - Soap x Reader x Ghost

Content Warnings - Pregnancy, AFAB Reader, trauma, puking. MW3 is canon.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

"You're sure 'bout this?" Simon asks again for what felt like the ninth time. Truthfully, you weren't sure. You weren't sure about anything anymore since all of this had started. You look at yourself in the mirror and the woman who looked back was unrecognizable. Swollen belly, deep eyebags and a dress that didn't suit you. No, you weren't sure about this but it didn't matter anymore. Johnny's family would be here in twenty minutes and everything was already prepped and cleaned. It would be a waste to call it all off now and send his family back to Scotland after making the drive all the way here.

"I'm sure Simon." You sigh and turn to look at him. Simon looks better than you even if he's a plain black shirt and blue jeans. At least he looks like he isn't going to throw up constantly. Simon looks like he wants to say something, the words right on the tip of his tongue but he holds back. 

"Lass?"

You startled and turned around despite knowing who would call you that. The only person who would call you that. "Soap?"

"What're ye doin' up still?" Soap asked as he settled down next to you. The rec room was quiet and dark, the light from the microwave being the only thing to light up the area. Just the way you liked.

"Just enjoying the night." You said. Partially true and the rest of the truth was obvious, you couldn't help. You hadn't been able to sleep well for the last two months ever since that mission, even after Soap had been released from the hospital.

"Mind if I join ye then?" 

You snorted and rolled your eyes, "I believe you've already made yourself comfortable."

"Aye but ye could always tell me to go away." Soap replied and nudged you softly. You sighed but didn't tell him to go. You never wanted him to go away, selfish maybe. The week he had spent in that medically induced coma you had fallen apart and was forced to find the reason why it affected you like that. Yes, he was a teammate. A person who you had spent the last few years training and fighting beside. 

But you had never been so panicked when Gaz or Ghost got injured. You had felt your blood turn cold and had sobbed when he had started to breathe again. Lying to yourself was impossible when you could see the writing on the wall. You liked him, perhaps even loved him. No, you definitely loved him. You rested your head against his shoulder and soaked in his scent. Tangy, almost citrus with a tinge of sweat. His aftershave, what you assumed was his aftershave at least, smelt like sandalwood. 

Soap's fingers brought you from your thoughts and from the sinking feeling his smell brought. You opened your eyes and stared up into his icy blue ones. Only they never felt like ice to you, only ever warm with life and mischief. "Kiss me." Soap blinked at you. "Please." He hesitated, the only time you can ever recall him doing such before his lips brushed against you. Uncertain. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pushed your lips to his, that seemed to snap his restraint. 

Your lips moved together and his arms wrapped around your waist before he lifted you into his lap. Your fingers found his mohawk and pressed yourself further into his embrace. One of his hands traveled further down, cupped your ass and gave it a good squeeze, hard enough to make you gasp. The moment your mouth parted his tongue slipped in and he groaned at your taste. 

When you finally pulled back for a moment of reprieve and found his eyes again, the words slipped from your mouth before you thought about it. Maybe you didn't need to think about it. "I love you."

The flat is alive with conversation, a pile of gifts sit on the table while the MacTavish family fawn over you. Especially his sisters. It was rather disturbing how much they all resembled each other, the fathers genetics were truly over powering. Blue eyes everywhere with brown hair and a laugh that made your stomach twist. "We never knew John had a bonnie lass." One of his sisters, Winnie, laments. "Always talked about settlin' down but never talkin about a lass."

"Yeah?" You mutter before taking another drink of your juice. You've never wanted a drink so bad before.

"Pregnancy suits you." Another sister comments, Elara. "You practically glow. My pregnancy was awful, just terrible." You smile, your cheeks ache from doing it so much. You glance at Mrs. MacTavish and Mr. MacTavish who sit at the table with Simon and talk. They had dragged Simon over there and you wish you were there, away from all these questions. Away from all these blue eyes and bright smiles.

"You'll have to pardon me." You say while getting up, "I've got to use the bathroom." 

The women laugh about the pregnancy bladder, always needing to pee. You force a laugh before hurrying down the hall to the bathroom. You shut the door and lock it before rushing over to the toilet and puking. Breakfast and lunch rise up your throat and into the toilet until you're completely empty. Your hand shakes as you flush and lean against the tub without the strength to get up. Sweat sticks to your forehead, you close your eyes and find yourself leaning over the toilet again. Blue eyes twisted, turned gray and lifeless. Ashes sitting in a bag and tanned skin pale with death. You grip the side of your head as tears fall down your face.

You look up when someone kneels in front of you. You look with blurry vision to see the door open and then focus on the person in front of you. Simon. "Love what's wrong?" He asks as he grabs your hands. He repeats your name, "Look at me." Your eyes snap to him. Brown. Beautiful brown eyes that turn amber when the light hits them just right. Brown eyes shine with worry. "Slow your breathing." He whispers as he leads by example. 

"Simon." You cry and fling yourself into his embrace. He freezes, only for a moment before his arms engulf you as he keeps instructing you to breathe. "I can't stop seeing it Simon." You whisper and for a moment you remember that you had never seen Johnny's dead eyes. But your brain shoves the image further down your throat. "Oh god." You cry and Simon holds you a little tighter. He cradles you until the tears stop and your breathing slows.

"Do you want to go back out there?"

You shake your head. "I can't. All I see is him. But I have to. I don't want to waste their time or money."

"You don't have to do anything." He says and it's filled with resolve. "If they want to take the gifts with them they can. I'll buy everything the baby needs." You let out an unsteady breath and nod.

"Okay. I'll try." He helps you up from the floor and holds you steady as you walk from the bathroom. Mrs. MacTavish rushes to your side but asks no questions. "I'm sorry." You whisper, head bowed.

"Oh lassie." She whispers and brings you into a hug. "We'll go if ye want. No ill will, promise."

"I'm so sorry. It wasn't supposed to go like this." You whisper, throat closing up once again. "I ruined everything."

"Ye ruined nothing." Mr. MacTavish spoke this time. "We must've overwhelmed ye."

"God would you stop being so nice." You cry and a silence settles over the entire flat. The sisters mutter something about going to a nearby cafe and leave while Mrs. MacTavish leads you to sit on the couch.

"Lassie, what's wrong?"

The words being to pour out of you.

[bad268]

Please may I request an Arvid Lindblad oneshot? I swear there are literally no stories of him and as your writing is amazing I know you would write it well!

I thought, maybe, reader is a really big bookworm, and they are dating Arvid, but as reader has a really big audience on YouTube it's practically their job (if yk what I mean) which means they can go to all of his races and support him. and maybe with a lot alot of fluff? and ofc Dino bullying Arvid for being whipped for reader.

Thank you!!

Stop Simping (Arvid Lindblad X Bookworm! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (can i just say thank you? like i cried reading this ily <3)

Warnings: Dino being a cock block (not really), aged up Arvid

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1018

Summary: It's time for a brain break.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~ (^Pinterest)

It started as just a hobby of yours. You loved to read, so you started uploading videos of your book review. You never expected your following to get this big. However, nearly 9 million followers on TikTok and 3.5 million subscribers on Youtube later, you were able to convince your parents that this could be a possible career for you. It’s not like you would ever stop reading. 

Granted, they were already upset that you decided to start dating an up-and-coming race car driver. Never mind that you were childhood friends, and started dating when you turned 16. Never mind the fact that you two had been dating for going on three years at this point too. They would never fully approve of your choices. 

When you graduated secondary school, instead of going straight to university like your parents wanted, you did what your heart wanted and began traveling with Arvid full-time. You had your camera with you constantly, and there was never a shortage of books. You had all the time in the world to do what you loved while he did what he loved.

On this day, it was particularly hot, and you could not find the words you were trying to say. You had already read the book, and you knew everything about it. You were just struggling to put your thoughts into words. You were sitting in the Prema trailer between sessions, trying and failing at this video more times than you could count. You decided you just needed a break. There was no point in forcing content when you knew you just needed a minute away. Well, not a minute. Maybe an hour or two. Either way, you decided to head out of the trailer and to the garage where you knew Arvid was getting ready for the sprint race.  

You walked out to the grid where Arvid was standing with Dino between their cars. They were starting ninth and tenth since they locked out the front row for the feature race. You showed your pass to the security on the grid before running up to wrap your arms around Arvid’s waist from behind.

“How’s my boyfriend and his teammate doing?” You asked when his attention turned to you immediately.

“I’m just the teammate now? Rude,” Dino complained before turning to talk to his race engineer.

“I’m doing alright, ready to get this race started. How’s my bookworm doing?” Arvid replied as he turned in your arms to face you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. Then, he planted a kiss on your forehead. “Not overworking yourself, right?”

“Maybe a little,” You chuckled shamelessly as you hid your face in his chest. “I just needed a break, and I knew you were about to get in the car, and I wanted to see you before then. Is that a crime?”

“Not exactly,” He laughed lightly as he swayed the two of you around. He moved one of his hands from your shoulders to tilt your head to look at him as he gently tapped against your temple. “What’s going on up here?”

“Everything and nothing, if that makes sense,” You sighed. Arvid always had that calmness to him that made it easy to talk about your feelings. Even now, it was no different despite the fact that he should definitely be focusing on the impending race, but no. He’ll always give you his full attention. “I just can’t seem to get the words right. I just needed a brain break.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” Arvid replied enthusiastically as some person started gesturing for him to get in the car. He pulled you with him toward the car before leaning against the halo. “You are about to witness 22 cars go in circles for 32 laps. Nothing screams ‘brain break’ like watching things go in circles. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“I wish I could,” You snorted. You noticed a few people of the team kind of eyeing you two, trying to get Arvid in the car sooner. “You need to get in your car. Like now. I don’t need to be the reason you get a penalty.”

“I don’t get a kiss for good luck? Wow,” Arvid pouted as he turned to grab his helmet, balaclava, and Hans device from his race engineer. He disregarded you as he listened to some last-minute info from his engineer. Then, he turned back to you after putting his balaclava and helmet on. “Can you still do the ritual?”

“Of course,” You comforted as you took the Hans device from his hands to put it over his shoulders and click it into place as you spoke to him. “Drive fast, and don’t crash. I don’t want to be in a hospital today, so be safe. Think twice before going on the inside, and most importantly,” you paused before holding his head between your hands. You left a kiss on top of his helmet before adding, “Have fun,” and flicking his visor down.

“Okay, you two are cute, but can you both please stop simping before I have to get in a car?” Dino butted in, completely ruining the moment.

“You’re a cock block, Beganovic,” Arvid groaned as he pulled you in for one last hug before he climbed into his car.

“He’s just jealous, don’t let him get to you,” You gave Arvid one last pat to the top of his helmet before being dragged off the track with his engineer. You were pulled up to the pit wall and given a headset. You pressed the button to talk to Arvid one last time before lights out. “Radio check.”

“Loud and clear,” Arvid smirked. It was always part of the ritual.

“Good, now give ‘em hell for me,” You smirked as you watched him go out on the formation lap. “I expect nothing less than 10, you hear?”

“I hear you,” He chuckled. “I expect nothing less than 22.”

“Alright wise guy,” You laughed, looking at his engineer who was listening to the whole conversation. “Focus on the lights and keep it out of the wall.”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[doshiart]

F1 AU // GALLAVICH

Ian Gallagher is a racing driver, a young star of the McLaren team. Mickey is just a car technician, who only recently joined the team as a trainee.

/long read backstory below/

Okay, I've thought about this a lot. So.. Shameless US but.. huh? living in UK?

First of all, because Formula 1 is more popular in Europe. Secondly, because I want to alter the story of Mickey's growing up. Make it a story about a little boy persevering towards his dreams. And how a simple childhood passion can grow into a potential job opportunity.

If briefly, below I talk about Mickey's developmental stages, along with his final emigration from Ukraine to the UK.

I'm not going into Ian's backstory here. But I'll mention this in more detail at the very end of the post, if you get to the end. Ha ha. Have fun reading!!

---------------

Mickey was six, just a little boy, when he first saw a F1 race on TV. And he was amazed by how quickly the cars could go and how quickly the mechanics performed at pit stops. (Are these even mechanics? Well, they turn the wheels, dad does the same thing in the garage and considers himself a mechanic).

When the next year he went to school in his first grade, then to all the teachers' questions or questionnaires with their “What do you want to be when you grow up?” he confidently answered as clearly as his childish language could, that he would definitely become a F1 mechanic. Even though he received only gentle smiles in reaction to his naivety of being a kid, the desire took root in his little head.

---

As he grew older, he continued to enjoy racing, watching every race weekend he could. And while he was a child this did not cause any particular problems. Mom encouraged him in his interests and every New Year gave him tiny branded cars of the teams he loved. But as he gets older, the more often he hears from dad that he is interested in some stupid things. And he didn't want to hear a word about racing at all. As soon as Mickey mentioned it even once, he was cut off mid-sentence.

These are not real cars.

Real mechanics work in a garage with real cars, not kids' toys for show.

Come down to earth. It’s all somewhere far away and you never even get to one of these races in your life.

---

Well, Mickey talks less about racing out loud anymore. Especially after mom's gone.

Tiny model cars disappeared into the closet's darkness.

His dad began to drag him into their garage more often so that he would get used to work and not wander around idle, lost in his stupid dreams. He had to skip live racing broadcasts as a result. It was sort of suicidal acts to turn this on in the garage on a small TV instead of some dumb music channel with hit songs. Mickey had learnt long ago to keep his mouth shut.

Just listen. Bring it. Grab it. Repair simple details. Don't go under the hood. Don't touch this, don't touch that. And especially don't break anything. Blah blah blah.

Jesus, are you even a man? Take your gentle hands away if you're not ready to get dirty.

---

Despite everything, Mickey still had a dream. One day, he hopes to watch a real-life race. Hear the noise of wheels flying over the track, the roar of engines, the screams of a supportive crowd. He prefers to never talk about his own desire to work as a car mechanic or engineer in F1.

---

Mickey was sixteen when he left after ninth grade for a vocational college to applied mechanics specialty.

Because, well, he had good reasons for leaving school two grades early. At the very least, he was already tired of going to school. He didn't even have any friends there. Yes, he communicated with classmates, but that's not it. It's forced. Just so as not to be an outcast and maintain the status of the Milkovich family by playing dirty tricks at school and bullying others. Did he like it? Absolutely not. These guys were idiots with stupid jokes and always picking on chicks.

They kept asking if he liked any of them and talking about how they looked all the time. Mickey never liked anyone. It wasn't that the girls were ugly, he just didn't find them attractive. But he pushed these thoughts away and ignored them. Left it somewhere near to the tiny race cars in the darkness.

Also, classmates called him into fights on regularly. Not that he was against kicking someone's dumb ass, but that he would prefer better reasons than just trying to prove whose class is above.

Another reason is that, in their family, working with their hands and having a real profession are more valued than going to higher education. Because this is a job for real men. Where will all these managers, lawyers, accountants, stupid psychologists be when their car breaks down? Mechanics will always have work and profit.

As well, Mickey is deeply curious about the workings of the engine and wants to fully understand its mechanisms. He will therefore be able to study this in practice with teachers, rather than with a psychotic bastard who screams at the slightest opportunity.

The only thing Mickey truly wanted to learn at school was English. Not because he loved it. This gave him at least some hope of "breaking abroad for the sake of a good life". Perhaps the main reason for his success was that he had a really great teacher who pushed and encouraged him. Sometimes he would stick around after class and stay just to talk with her. Mickey felt parental care, which he hasn't received lately.

“I believe that you can achieve a lot, Mikhailo. Just believe in yourself.” She told him and he believed her, hugging her a little longer so as not to show his wet eyes.

And well, after leaving school, these words sometimes came to mind during the saddest times, when he returned home after a long day of school combined with an exhausting shift in the family garage. Every time he spoke with his dad, he felt terribly devastated. The dream was literally slipping out from Mickey's hands. A pipe dream, is that what they say? Well, at least he'll try to do something.

---

Mickey was twenty when he graduated and by this time he was actively saving money, hiding it in different places. Also, he planned his escape from home, considered the best routes, and looked at what things he should take with him, confused about whether he would ever return home again.

As he approached his twenty-first birthday, he finally decided to do it. With only a spark of hope, he was ready to leave for nowhere. And okay, Mickey was a realist; he was aware that things might not work out at all and that he would have to return back eventually. But he'll do anything, though, to make sure that this doesn't happen, to avoid having to meet his dad's derisive gaze once more as his goal gets mocked.

After all, a dream is a dream, right? He also had skills and language abilities in his pocket. So he's really ready to do anything to attain even the tiniest success.

---

To get to UK, Mickey had to go through a long journey of transfers from bus to train, from train to plane. He's terribly tired, but here he is. He stands and watches as the new country greets him with heavy rain.

He first found it difficult to adjust to other people's smiling faces. There were a few times when he didn't feel at home because everyone was so friendly and lovely. And these people were incredibly talkative. He'll have to get used to this if he plans to stay here.

The first difficulties he encountered occurred at the department while filling out a form for migrants.

“Mik.. Mikai.. Mikaelo?”

“Mikhailo.” Mickey interrupted.

The employee's eyes stared blankly at him.

He sighed. “Ugh.. Mickey? Yeah, Mickey.”

“Okay, Mickey. Here you are.”

---

Mickey got a job as a mechanic for a small business fairly quickly thanks to his abilities. He was so easily and warmly accepted into the friendly team. Here he first felt respect while working. Mickey got assistance from the job department in extending his visa to stay in the country. His job also provided him with a tiny apartment, deducted from his paycheck.

After a while, feeling a little more self-assured, Mickey started saving money for qualifying courses that would help him in the future.

---

Mickey was almost twenty-four when he successfully obtained all the qualifications that were necessary for the job, as well as to be sure of himself and his knowledge. During this time two full racing seasons had passed. He attended only one race at Silverstone. This was his almost full year in the UK. His skin broke out in goosebumps when he saw the track in person. It wasn't quite what he expected. Mickey literally stood in one place and once in a while cars would drive by. On TV they show a larger overview, but still. He was excited. In this grand prix, a new young racer from the McLaren team took third place for the first time. His name seems to be Ian, and he likes to take risks on the track, driving the car while presenting a strong sense of confidence. And his hair perfectly matches with the team's car.

He missed the second race due to a qualifying exam. But he's not upset. Mickey is closer than ever to his dream. If everything works out, he'll see even more racing. If not, well, then he'll continue to work repairing regular cars. Perhaps he'll be able to attend grand prix events in other countries during his holidays?

But now it's the middle of the season and he's standing in the lobby of the McLaren Technology Center. He's trembling a little and his wild eyes are scanning everything in the immediate area.

Mickey can't believe the reality of what's happening. No he didn't become a mechanic. But.. it's still impressive. He was interviewed and tested to become a temporary vehicle technician for the team as an intern. He was told something about a possible career advancement and access to other things once he completed more qualifications, but he's not sure he heard everything correctly.

Later they tested him on team tests on the track. He's surprised that he was able to concentrate on his speed and did everything exactly as needed.

He actually became… exactly the one who changes the wheels and does minor repairs. He joined the technical team and will also work on pit stops during the races. And well, okay, if everything that's happening isn't a dream, he's really happy. Extremely happy. Of course, the longer he studied, the more he wanted to do engineering and development. But that's the tiny step, right? This is already more than anything he could have imagined. He saw the race in real life from the stands, and now he got the opportunity to see everything from the staff. He'll interact directly with the racing car. He might even hear how the team interacts with racers. Unbelievable.

Through the noise in his ears, Mickey hears someone standing beside him talking in a muffled voice.

“Hey! You're a new technician, right?”

The guy had already taken off his helmet when Mickey turned around. He softly smiles while stroking his fiery red hair.

Mickey stared at him. When he was brought to the track, he thought that some tester was sitting in the car, but not their young star.

“Yeah. Hope so…” He twitched his lip and scratched nose. “You're Ian, right?”

Of course this is Ian, what a stupid question. It's too embarrassing.

The redhead smile became even larger.

“Yeah…”

And just as he was about to add something else, one of the staff called Ian to go back and he hurriedly turned to Mickey and said quickly, “Oh, uh, see ya later then, gotta go.”

---------------

I'm glad I finally wrote and drew this. This idea has literally taken over my head so much that I don't have the energy to write Ian's backstory in the same way. Once again I am convinced that writing is hard work. And I want to say again about my love for writers. YOU ARE INCREDIBLE. For my brain, drawing is easier than writing. But it was fun!

!!!AND!!! THE MOST IMPORTANT THING! If someone suddenly wants to write a big multi-chap slowburn fic or little drabble or do anything, I'll be happy so much with absolutely anything!!

---------------

Let's talk about Ian now. I was actually going to write a backstory for him too. Maybe at least some minor notes, but I'm not quite sure how best to connect his bipolar with racing. Usually because racers drive go-karts from childhood, get into the junior league and generally build a racing career for years. Maybe he had a breakdown somewhere between seasons and it was quickly noticed?? I don’t know… And I think about how the team constantly checks him, which at times upsets him and forces him to prove to everyone that he is fine and able to drive the car.

Most likely, in this AU, Gallaghers are either rich, or Ian has a sponsor, if you know what I mean… From this fact, a whole lot can change in story. And the second thing seems more likely to me.

I was thinking about how Ian joined the McLaren team at the age of 21, and by the time he first met Mickey he was 22. He had been stable for a long time on medication.

So I'm also considering the possibility that somewhere between his 17-19 years he disappeared from the radar and came back when he found a sponsor who could pay for everything he needed and help him get into the F1 league. At first it was the weakest team, until his potential was noticed and he was offered to move to another team. This fact with the sponsor will probably put a lot of spokes in the wheels (ha).

Racer's body is undergoing an enormous physical strain, so they spend a lot of time in the gym. And Ian really enjoys working out with his team.

Another interesting fact: racers have a super-strong neck to be able to cope with gravitational forces during the race. Therefore, special attention is paid to neck in training. (It seems from the moment I found out this my little fixation began…)

---------------

I think there's a lot of pining here or something. They seem to be nearby, but due to different job responsibilities, at completely distinct levels. And I really want to read something like this with so slow burning.

So, I guess you can consider this as a big prompt for writing, if it inspires you.

Thanks for reading! <3

[lincolndjarin]

my sister lives in the attic.

main masterlist

joel miller x reader

warnings : angst, death, child loss, grieving, denial

a/n : i've never written something like this but i'm in a weird place and this idea has been following me for quite some time now so i decided to take a few minutes and write it, i'd love some feedback on it since this style is kinda new to me !!

He didn’t like to talk about his children. 

“Do you have kids?”

“Two daughters.” Was all he said.

That’s what he had told you on your first date. He was so abrupt about it that you didn’t ask about them again, instead opting to wait until he told you on his own terms. 

On your fifth date he told you that Ellie got in trouble for cursing in gym class that day. 

On your seventh date he told you Sarah was away at college, and that he missed her terribly and wished she would visit. 

On your eighth date he told you that Ellie made him a card for his birthday. He even brought it over to your house to show you. It was a drawing of the two of them floating through space. The inside said:

i love our family to the moon and back!

You didn’t ask why Sarah wasn’t included in the crayon family portrait. 

On your ninth date he showed you the photos in his wallet. A baby girl with her curly dark hair up in two little buns sitting in the sand. The one below it was a girl who looked to be about five, giving the camera a toothy grin, standing next to Joel in a courthouse, holding up her adoption papers. 

On your twelfth date he finally invited you over for dinner, you happily accepted. 

Joel introduced you to an extremely energetic seven year old. He gave you a tour of the house (only the first floor.) and you smiled at every family photo hung on the walls.

“I invited Sarah but she couldn’t make it, she’s got midterms but I’m sure you’ll meet her soon.” He tells you before leaving you with Ellie, going to pick up a pizza for the three of you. 

Ellie tells you about school, about her best friend Riley, and about playing soccer in the backyard with her father. 

And then she says the strangest thing. 

“My sister lives in the attic.”

“Excuse me?” You had given her a confused smile but she carried on as if it was the most normal thing in the world. 

“My sister, Sarah, lives in the attic.” She said it so plainly. Taking your hand and dragging you up the stairs, pointing up at a staircase on the second story that led to a singular door, pink paint peeling from it with little wooden letters spelling out SARAH, the sight of it put you on edge. 

“We shouldn’t go up there honey, let’s wait until your father gets back.” You had put up a bit of resistance but she ran ahead of you, you watched helplessly from the bottom of the stairs as Ellie pushed open the door and ran inside. 

“It’s okay, dad says I can talk to Sarah whenever I want as long as I don’t touch her stuff.” She had shouted, already inside. Despite every nerve in your body singing for you to go back downstairs and wait, you knew better than to leave a child alone so you climbed the steps and entered the room. 

Nothing strange, nothing frightening, no secret nightmare. 

When you look around all you see is a room, albeit a child's room but a room nonetheless. 

Ellie sits in a love seat, suddenly repeating everything she told you about her day to seemingly no one as she stares at Sarah’s bookshelf. You walk around, trying to recall when Joel said she left for college. Everything is covered in a thick layer of dust but strangest of all this is clearly not a teenager's room. 

This is a childs room, for a girl about Ellie’s age. Every photo on her desk doesn’t show her older than what looks to be twelve. 

“Ellie, honey, when you said your sister lived in the atti-'' She doesn’t stop talking from behind you, ignoring you entirely but her words stop you dead in your tracks. 

“Dad keeps saying you’re coming home for Christmas but he also said you’d be home for his birthday, he keeps telling me how much we’re gonna get along but I just tell him we already get along fine.” 

It sends a chill up your spine, you aren’t superstitious but in a moment of weakness when you turn a part of you almost expects to see a ghost.

Of course that isn’t the case.  

When you look Ellie remains in the loveseat, seemingly the only thing that isn’t covered in dust up here. Her eyes trained on the highest shelf, when you follow her line of sight all of it starts to make sense. The shelf is covered in books and toys and trinkets, all of which are showing signs of age and disuse but the top shelf is neat and tidy, it even looks recently dusted. 

Only two things are on the top shelf. 

A beer bottle with the label ripped off, a lilac sits within it, a few stray petals lay in a halo around the makeshift vase. 

And a dark purple urn. 

You struggle to swallow the lump in your throat, unable to tear your eyes from it. 

“One time Uncle Tommy told me she was an angel.” She whispers when you stare in silence for far too long. “Dad got so mad we didn’t see Tommy for like a month after that and when we did see him again everything went back to normal.”

“What happened to her?” You can’t stop yourself from asking, she only shrugs in response.

“It was before I lived here, I never ask, I’m worried he’ll send me to live with Uncle Tommy if I do.” 

“Oh, honey.” You crouch down beside her, she hugs her knees to her chest. “He wouldn’t do that.” 

“I’m still not gonna ask. He doesn’t talk about her that much, only when someone else brings it up or if I ask to come up here to see her.” You nod slowly before holding your arms out to her, she wraps herself around you and you carry her to the door, eager to leave the tomb you’ve stumbled upon. “Bye Sarah.” She mumbled against your shoulder as you closed the door, the sentiment sent shivers down your spine. 

When Joel returns with the food it’s as if you never were in the attic at all.

Ellie runs to him, wrapping herself around his leg as he laughs, trying to kick her loose. 

When the three of you sit down for dinner she never says a thing to him about any of it. 

She asks if she can go to her friends house after dinner, their mom is going to take them to the arcade, Joel grins at you, asking if she was good while he was gone and you put on a smile, nodding. 

“Then you can go.” He ruffled her hair before she ran off to get her backpack. When it was just the two of you he took your hand, mentioning something about catching a movie while she’s gone, you nodded absentmindedly when he gave your hand a gentle squeeze you finally looked him in the eye. 

You’d never noticed it before but there is a permanent sorrow behind the dark expanse of his irises, as if he’s never really happy, he’s sometimes just less sad. “Everything okay?” He asked. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” 

You don’t bring up the attic at the dinner table.

Or in the car.

Or at the movies. 

He just needs time, you tell yourself. Maybe he’ll tell you on your thirteenth date, maybe it won’t be until your hundredth date. Until then you won’t tell him that you know who lives in the attic and you’ll nod with faux disappointment when he says that his eldest won’t be home for the holidays this year. 

And you’ll take extra care of him on days when he comes home with fresh lilacs.

a/n : yeah so uhhhhhhhhhh tell me how y'all liked this haha idk if i'll write anything like this again it was just sort of something for me to vent with, hope everyones having a good day and thank y'all for reading <3

[lovelypham]

EYES DON'T LIE

ʬʬ prompt:where you were invited to your best friend's birthday party only to realize how jealous you'd get when seeing him with others girls,little did you know he felt the same way about you ✎wc:458 ✩⡱pairing:non-idol!bestfriend!jake X fem!reader ˳೫˚∗warnings: jealousy,fluff,kissing,confessing, mildly suggestive

╰┈➤song recommendation:Eyes don't lie-Isabel LaRosa ✩⡱

╰┈➤

As you watched Jake,your best friend for more than 5 years who was also coincidentally your crush for the past 6 months,effortlessly indulge in yet another conversation with a girl at the bar, a sigh escaped your lips Despite knowing it was his own party and you didn't have any excuse to limit him from talking to girls,a feeling of jealousy tugged at your heart strings.

hesitantly agreeing to come after Jake quite literally begged you, you found yourself tucked away in a corner, sipping your probably ninth drink of the night,while shooting daggers in his direction. Laughter and music filled the air, and while everyone was having a good time you weren't.

When another girl got a bit too comfy with Jake, you decided to escape to the peace the unoccupied pool outside provided. The summer breeze messed up your hair, and the alcohol in your system blurred your thoughts as you stared into the night sky.

✦⋆𓆩✧𓆪⋆✦

Suddenly, Jake showed up beside you, his presence bringing you both comfort and nervousness. "hey__" he murmured, his voice low while saying your name. "you seem a little distant. everything okay?"

You hesitated, caught off guard by the way he knew you so well "yeah, I'm fine," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant"I just needed to get some air I felt suffocated inside"you replied in an awkward tone

Jake leaned in closer, his eyes searching yours in way that made your heart beats race. "Are you sure?" he whispered, his breath warm against your freezing skin.

You swallowed a lump, feeling exposed under his gaze. "honestly, I'm just... feeling a little sick," your voice carrying uncertainty

A smirk tugged at the corners of Jake's lips as he leaned even closer, his lips touching your earlobe. "so you're not jealous,huh?" he murmured, his voice sending shivers down your spine you gasped and then quickly denied his allegations saying "what are you talking about jake?" . he said one thing "Eyes don't lie,baby"

Your breath hitched as Jake's words sent a jolt of electricity through you. Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a heartwarming kiss. It felt like the world around you faded away, leaving only the burn of his touch and the pounding of your heart

✦⋆𓆩✧𓆪⋆✦

After you pulled away, both of you breathless he sighed and said"i was only talking to so many girls because I wanted to forget about you, we always promised ourselves to never date or catch feelings for eachother, because we believed it'll ruin our friendship"

you looked to your right to catch a glimpse of his face only to find out he was already staring at you

you took his hands in yours and layed them on your lap and with a comforting smile you told him "that's what i told my self too jaeyun, but love can't be hidden like any other emotion ,I've had a crush on you for as long ask i can remember and I always shrugged it off but I can't handle seeing you like this anymore" he then tightened his grip around your hands and replied with" do you wanna maybe be my girlfriend? " you quickly said"yes! omg of course jae" you then kissed him again but unlike the first kiss this one was hurried but still as meaningful as the first one

✦⋆𓆩✧𓆪⋆✦

you suddenly heard loud cheering and screams, only to realize your friends have been watching the whole thing from the start

˳೫˚∗

(note: this is my first time writing an actual fic so please go easy on me😭😭, I'll gladly take any constructive criticism of any kind just no hate💗)

this is all fiction and not meant to represent any mentioned idols as they are in real life

©lovelypham works 2024

[candysugarush]

𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬: part 2

"𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒓 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒏-𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒆𝒔"

✧══════•❁❀❁•══════✧

Xu Minghao

Character : The eighth princess

Story : The second born prince of the concubine of the king. Minghao despite his words and behavior, fully enjoy spending time with his brothers even if they tend to get on his nerves. Which is why he meditate to control his emotions and tend to lean toward more calm activities and artistic ones. Dancing is a way for him to let out everything he can't put in words. Whether it is the good, the bad, or just the passion. And oh, how much passion do you inspire him! His emotions going as brazen as a wildfire pulling him in thousands waltz.

Won't you take his hand and join him? If you refuse him, his temper might get out of control and burn you.

Kim Mingyu

Character : The ninth princess

Story : The charming and sweet giant prince. Despite his looks, Mingyu doesn't have traditional princely interest, finding cooking and baking in the kitchen more interesting than sparing. Even if his appearance and muscles would suggest the contrary. Dancing might be the only moment he willingly moves as he sees more as an art than a sport. All of this just adds into his princely charm that makes most of the kingdom's maiden swoon. But you, you saw behind this and genuinely went to learn about him and his interest. He is so grateful for that, you're the only one who did such effort.

This deserves a gift, a special treat he made just for you... Don't mind the tangy taste and just eat it all, don't be ungrateful now.

Lee Seokmin

Character : The tenth princess

Story : The sunshine and laughing prince. There isn't a day in the castle without hearing the wonderful laugh of the tenth prince. He is always following along his brothers, eager for whatever adventure or mess they get into. But he is just following, he also know how to tale the lead and demonstrate remarkable skills such as acting or quick thinking to get out of whatever mess. Even when it involves dancing, and singing. Nobody can stop him once he starts. And you, you are no exception, although he would pause just long enough to pull you against him in a waltz.

Isn't this wonderful? Everyday would be full of joy and laughter if you remained by his side. Now won't you consider it? He won't let go until you say yes.

Boo Seungkwan

Character : The eleventh princess

Story : The elegant, eccentric and chic prince who's voice resonate through the castle with gasps, huff, and scoffs. He is the oldest of the triplets and share a deep relationship with the second twin and a rivalry with the youngest. Of course he has a good relation with the rest of his brothers, especially when it comes down to him asking for attention or anything. Dancing is one of the most refined art he likes in partake in, and you my dear is the lucky one who gets to share this with him.

What a privilege, don't get your hopes up. It's just because you provided him with dancing shoes... But that doesn't mean he doesn't want you here! At least stay to watch him try them.

Chwe Hansol

Character : The twelfth princess

Story : The nonchalant and blank faced prince who is laid-back and doesn't bother himself with useless matters. He is the second born triplets and has a good relation with all his brothers, he isn't playing favorite (even if eleven want him to). Although he has a tendency to get distracted and let his twin drag him around, Hansol knows how to put his focus when it matters. Such as dancing, probably the most energetic his brothers had ever seen him. And also when it comes to you. Sure he is chill and laid-back, but that doesn't mean he will let people walk over him.

He isn't a doormat and his talent for swordmanship speak for itself. If anyone bothers you, just tell him. He will make sure they don't ever again try such silly stunts.

Lee Chan

Character : The thirteenth princess

Story : The youngest prince who's treated like a child and babied by his older brothers. He is the youngest of the triplets and the runt of the litter. Despite being teased by his brothers all the time and the weird rivalry with his oldest twin, Chan know how to stand on his own. And he is a man of many talents to back up his words. And that includes dancing, as all his brothers were into it and he couldn't stand the thought of being left out. So he tries his best to be an excellent dancer. And good dancing shoes are quite the must for that. That's where you come in.

He is smitten and wants you, but seeing how all his brothers are also vying your attention sends a wave of jealousy and rage through him. They cannot have you, that's the only desire he won't concede. So stop looking at them and only focus on him.

✧══════•❁❀❁•══════✧

Who will be your dancing partner?

Taglist: @loumin908

[cherubchoirs]

I am obsessed with this acended v1 idea now, a fallen angel and an acended machine!!! Please I want more thoughts on this I’m begging you

(see this!)

I KEEP THINKING ABOUT THEM TOO....i've of course talked about them a bit here, here, and here, BUT this lets me sort of give some miscellaneous thoughts i couldn't fit into those other asks!! of course i'm still formulating this part of the au so things are probably...very subject to change but they're on my mind in a big way....

first is the time gap that sort of happens here, with v1 taking years for gabriel to revive - he departs from hell a few days after its death, but ascending mount purgatory is difficult for a fallen angel, especially as he moves higher and higher. everything becomes more oppressive, his feet growing increasingly heavy as v1's body eventually feels like a lead weight in his arms. crossing lethe is treacherous as such - if he touches its waters, every memory will be wiped from his mind in an instant, and so he's required to leap from one bank to the other (assisted minimally by wings he hasn't taken out in years). and on the other end of eden, its sister eunoe threatens to burn him away (all sin is meant to be forgotten in this river, which would likely be highly detrimental to a fallen angel). so he vaults again, yet this journey was the easy one - he has all of heaven to traverse now, unable to teleport, unable to fly, but still finding some way to move between the spheres.

SO LIKE. THE GAME I GUESS BUT WITH GABRIEL IN HEAVEN KIND OF. he doesn't kill nearly as many angels as v1 does everything in hell, doing everything he in his power to threaten and scare them off rather than engage them for his sake and theirs. gabriel still cares for his old home, harboring no grudges for the people he once deeply loved and would have defended to his own death. yet he won't be stopped, he will kill if it comes down to it, and despite his exhaustion, despite an entire heaven hostile toward his very being, he's only grown stronger as they've become weaker. and so his travels take far more time than v1's descent, yet to find what he's looking for is what truly counts the years - gabriel walks through a ruined, broken heaven, a world no angels have touched since god disappeared, his vast kingdom crumbing outside the small inhabited islands. this is particularly true in the ninth sphere, yet gabriel goes alone into its unknown reaches to find what he needs...and eventually, likely in part following the lead of the other archangels, the others only let him go, let him search. fighting him is no longer worth it, not with the loss of life it incurs, and they see he truly means them no harm if he can help it.

and since those other asks covered the in-between here, risen v1 ideas!!! honestly, if v1 were to receive gabriel's light, it would be surprised how similar this still feels to being a machine - it's no wonder they understood each other so well. it is much better at recognizing emotion in itself and others, and art finally comes much easier for it, but otherwise its major adjustments are more how the divine interacts with the mechanical. v1 can now imbue things with light too, much like the ferryman's cloth but MUCH more powerful. v1's definitely already been given to playing with hell mass, but it absolutely panics when it does so, the same as it always has...and then it starts walking around!!!! it's alive!!!! it blasts it, instantly, but then it happens again and again and!!!!!! gabriel comes home one day to find a bunch of weird....bugs???? running around as v1 sits there in the middle of the floor, shaping yet another little creature in its hands for experimental replication purposes. the rest of the day is spent reckoning with v1's ability to grant life and gabriel stressing the GREAT responsibility of that - he is firmly against hell mass pets while v1 wants to make spore in real life.

in the same vein, there is simply a period where v1 is incredibly destructive. it always has been, naturally, but this is much less controlled, running loose with its new abilities and hurting itself quite severely more than once. there are times the power stresses its body to breaking point as v1 overuses it, leading to break downs that bring back a lot of bad memories for gabriel. however, on the flipside, their sparring matches are absolutely on another level for both of them now - v1 learns gabriel's old tricks, teleporting and using the light to construct any weapon it wants (it's VERY creative there lol) while gabriel is now a demon that could easily rival lucifer in his raw power and command of hell energy. they both feel a new burn fighting one another, something in their natures now antithetical to another; v1 feels the sullied corruption of a fallen angel's claws while gabriel's frozen body is electrified with molten gold every time he's struck by v1's light. and they're both absolutely wild for it lol after all this time, a new, almost forbidden dimension has been added to their battles and their love. ghosts of those feelings inhabit every touch as well, like a lingering threat for both of them for some time, and they both delight in it. they've got to be careful overdoing things for a bit because of it lol

[darkartistyt]

lore time pt 2: electric boogaloo (the kidnapping arc)

This is everything after the crossover part. TL;DR, we've just left Silly Gooberville and are now entering Unnecessary Angst County

Someone at the organization has detected an odd surge of magic somewhere in Paris. They report it to Isaac and Jean-Francois (if he's not incarcerated or dead or smth i dont remember), who, over time, are able to deduce that it's from the Bracelet of Tiamat. Perfect for them; they need to get their hands on it anyway, and the machine they're using to detect supernatural shit can also pinpoint its relative location

They want to wait a little bit longer, as it doesn't seem to be at the necessary level of power yet, but after a particularly intense spike following a short yet sudden absence (which was when Hera entered but they don't know that), they decide to start investigating then

Some time has passed, and everything has been pretty normal. Raphael rarely uses his powers, and if he does, he's secretive about them. He messes around more at home where he's not worried about being caught, and he doesn't like to wear the armband to sleep, but he's not too worried as the only ones in his apartment are himself, his girlfriend, and his dog. Little does he know he's being spied on >:]c

The night of the ninth day (so after three days of "investigation"), Raphael gets kidnapped. They manage to conduct their abduction well enough to not wake him, but Fondue does get up a little while later and gets a strange feeling that something's wrong. He sleepily goes into Raphael's room to check on him, only to find him missing, signs of a struggle (including a few unfamiliar scents), and the window closed but unlocked

He rushes to get Marie and drags her into his room. As soon as it clicks, she panics, puts on her jacket, and runs outside, hoping to find any sort of clues around the window or something. The two snoop around for a bit before, after finding nothing but their scent trail, calling Charlie to ask for help

Charlie decides not to wake his dad, even though Marie suggests getting him involved. She's pretty insistent, but she respects his wishes enough not to take action herself, although she makes sure he knows that she will if they can't handle it on their own

Fondue leads the others as he follows the scent towards the bad guys. I don't know where their HQ is, but they go there

Meanwhile, Raphael had woken up after they escaped through the window, but was quickly knocked out before he could cry for help. He wakes again only after they've already arrived at their destination and notices he's now in handcuffs, which he soon learns are blocking him from using his powers

He's handed off to some Chevaliers, who bring him to Jean-Francois. He is not at all surprised to see Raphael, but he does mutter something about "hoping it wouldn't be you..." (He's worried about Isaac flaking on their plan to siphon away his magic after realizing the one who now holds the Bracelet's powers is his son)

Raphael's still very scared (partially due to getting a little injured while trying to fight back), and Jean-Francois tries to calm him down by saying that they weren't going to hurt him and that he'd be fine. "It's a painless process," he says with a smile, but Raphael is somehow able to magically sense that something's off. He asks what they're going to do to him, but Jean-Francois doesn't answer, just telling the Chevaliers to take him away for a bit while they get prepared

They lock Raphael in a back closet with no windows and no way of exiting aside from the door, which is guarded by two Chevaliers. He still has the magicblocking handcuffs on, and despite searching the room thoroughly, he can't find anything he can use to pick the lock, so there's really nothing he can do :'(

While he's struggling to find a way to escape, Jean-Francois delivers the news to Isaac. He is very reluctant to tell him that the person they've kidnapped is Raphael, and, as expected, when he does finally reveal it, Isaac is not at all happy about it. Shocked and a little afraid, he demands to see his son before anything happens to him, and Jean-Francois brings him to him, telling some other guy to prepare the magic-stealing machine

Though Jean-Francois starts by walking to the closet, as soon as Isaac picks up on where they're keeping him, he rushes towards it, demanding a key from one of the guards and hastily opening the door, only to find Raphael on the floor, panicking. He bolts up and turns to face his father, tears already streaming down his face, and looks up at him as a million thoughts flood his mind and he struggles to find the words to express how he feels

Isaac is horrified; his son is now this inhuman beast whose magic he is soon going to siphon away, and he knows the process is a painful one. But alongside that, a growing part of him just can't believe that *this* is Raphael, that this dragon-like creature is his son

Raphael manages to stand and pleads for his father to help him, but Isaac just stands half-frozen, no idea how to respond. Jean-Francois suggests just bringing him to the extraction machine --- "why don't we just get it over with?" --- And Isaac hesitantly agrees

Stunned, Raphael protests, yelling, "But I'm your son! Why are you letting them do this to me?!"

"My son is a young boy named Raphael," Isaac responds, turning away and making room for the Chevaliers to take him, "not Phantom R, nor this... this monster. Forgive me, but we must finish what we have started."

Raphael has no idea what to say. Or what to do, for that matter. He's too shocked to even resist when the Chevaliers pull him out of the room and begin dragging him away. He keeps his eyes on Isaac, waiting for him too at least glance his way once more, but he never does

Out of nowhere, he hears something whizzing towards him, hitting one of the Chevaliers. He quickly pivots to see a soccer ball bounce off their armor and onto the ground

Charlie, Marie, and Fondue rush towards him, action scene ensues that I'm too lazy to write right now (Charlie has a gun btw), and they rescue Raphael as Chevaliers chase them down the winding halls of the HQ

Jean-Francois is furious, but a part of Isaac is grateful, though the disbelief still remains strong enough for him to not really see Raphael as Raphael anymore. Despite this, Jean-Francois convinces him to help him catch them

They follow the route of the Chevaliers for a moment before getting to a part of the building where there are multiple paths all leading to the same exit. They split up, and Isaac corners the group first. At that point, they had kicked some of the Chevaliers asses and had stopped to break Raphael out of his handcuffs. As soon as he sees Isaac, Charlie pulls out his pistol and demands that he get out of their way, but Isaac holds up his arms and continues to slowly walk towards them

He puts on a sympathetic smile and voice as he tries to convince Raphael that he only said those things because the others were there, that they would have hurt him if he disobeyed, but now he's able to help. Raphael wants to believe him, but his bullshit detector goes off immediately. He keeps up his guard, telling him that he knows he's lying, but Isaac protests, affirming that he didn't mean what he said and that he was terribly sorry for everything that was happening. Again, Raphael knows he's not telling the truth

Upset, hurt, and frankly pissed off, Raphael yells at his father, saying things like "How could you do this?! How could you betray me?!" He admits how alone he was before Fondue came into his life, how abandoned he's always felt, how hard he tried to forgive and forget and how impossible it was not to wonder if his search would be all for nothing --- stuff he hasn't even told his partners. He spills his heart out then and there, all while the area around them feels as though gravity is beginning to weaken and everyone else can see little embers flare up around him

Isaac is growing increasingly desperate to get him back with the Chevaliers, and he promises to explain everything if Raphael obliged. He's tempted, but Marie and Charlie demand he don't listen to him, because even though the levitation thing is growing stronger, the Chevaliers and Jean-Francois are still gaining up on them --- the levitation is only buying them time

It takes a second to convince him, but Raphael does listen to his partners and teleports them all home

The sun is beginning to cross the horizon, its rays slipping through the cityscape and his apartment windows, but the bedroom is still dark and cold. And after Raphael sits down on the bed, Marie and Fondue joining his sides just seconds later, the silence finally begins to set in for all of them. None of them know what to say...

Raphael can hardly believe what just happened, and he struggles to keep himself from crying. They all do what they can to comfort him, with Marie giving him a hug and letting him sob into her shoulder, Fondue handing him his favorite stuffed animal, and Charlie trying his best with some consoling words

After a bit, Raphael calms down and says he's gonna try to get some sleep. They all say goodnight (though Fondue ends up sleeping in his room tonight), but before Charlie can leave the apartment, Marie talks with him about what they should do about all this. They both decide that it would be best to tell his father about the kidnapping and their concerns that they aren't 100% safe

The next morning is spent mostly with police mumbo jumbo that I don't know enough about to describe. Marie and Charlie notice throughout the day how strangely calm and blasé Raphael is about the whole situation, even in private, almost as if it didn't happen. He also doesn't tell the cops about Isaac, just that he was nabbed by the same guys who caused the Hanging Garden events and managed to escape with the help of his partners and dog

Charlie is first to confront him about it, asking why he's so nonchalant about his kidnapping and the whole drama between him and his father, but Raphael avoids giving anything remotely close to a straight answer. He keeps up the act that everything's fine for as long as he can, though he falters from time to time, which only serves to make his partners even more worried

Marie tries to tell him to leave it alone for now, that Raphael's just Like This and that he'll tell them if something's seriously wrong, but Charlie presses 'x' to doubt and counters with, "You're sure he won't just keep it to himself?" to which Marie has no response. Regardless, they don't want to pressure him too much, so Charlie does end up doing as Marie asks, but they both keep it all in mind

[kashimos-hajime]

—𝟐𝟕 - 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮, 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭... 𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 | 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲, 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮

pairing: getou suguru x fem!reader

summary: anonymous musician, kogane, had been dropping non-hints of who they were since they first began releasing music to the students of tokyo metropolitan technical college nine months ago to the frustration of everyone ever.

getou suguru, long-time (arguably #1) fan and campus heartthrob with a reputation is determined to find out exactly who they are before he graduates, and he has no idea where to start. that is, until resident idiot and best friend and roommate, gojo satoru, points him in the direction of you, the musical genius behind kogane

word count: 9.3k

a/n: thank you for waiting for this chapter! just a few content warnings before we start! there are mentions of suicidal thoughts, depression, and depictions of grief. i really want to emphasize that things that suguru goes through are not pretty and he did deal with heavy loss, which shows in the flashbacks and even now. please take care of yourselves!

[12:39 PM]

Gojo Satoru met Getou Suguru when he was fifteen. Getou was a new student who tested into the high school of their greater school which was an all-grade educational program from kindergarten to twelfth grade, but one had to test into every new division, so when Gojo Satoru went from middle school to high school, he sat next to a tall boy with long black hair during the exam despite knowing he’d get in by his parents recommendation alone.

The same boy with long black hair would ask if he could sit next to Satoru on the first day of class.

“Getou Suguru,” he introduces himself politely, smiling. He’s tying his hair up into a bun, sweeping hair that falls out behind his ear, and Satoru looks over his sunglasses at the boy. His smile is warm and easy, his eyes gleaming with an eager, sharp glint. “You’re Gojo Satoru, right? We were next to each other at the exam.”

“Yeah. I remember you.” He pulls the chair out and cocks his head. “Seat’s free.”

Satoru only truly began to know Suguru when they were seventeen, standing in a cemetery with snow falling all around them.

“Suguru,” he murmurs, approaching the boy who’s grown taller and skinnier in the years since they’ve met. The row of tombstones Suguru stands between are their silent witnesses, the air still and quiet away from the mumble of the attendees. 

It’s only been a few weeks since she died. The funeral process was long and arduous. Riko’s family had invited them both to the private wake and cremation, while a public funeral service was held a week after the fire. 

Suguru declined to speak at the public service, so Satoru went up in his place, but none of his words felt right, and they still sit all janky on his tongue even now as he stops by his best friend. Now, the forty-ninth day since Riko’s death, they’ve returned to inter her ashes, and Satoru thought, perhaps a bit foolishly, that because shijūkunichi has finally come, the grief would get easier.

And maybe, for Satoru, it has.

It’s why he feels the need to approach Suguru, who has slipped away to a far off corner of this haunted place, away from the rest of the small crowd gathered. Satoru has always latched on carelessly to whatever Suguru anchors to, but now Suguru is the one drifting, so maybe he has to step up. It makes him feel awkward, and out of his depth, but his best friend is going too far out—far enough that if Satoru waits any longer, he knows that Suguru won’t come back.

Shit, he thinks, sighing. When did everything get so fucked up?

Satoru stops a few paces back, hesitant to completely enter the far off world Suguru has crafted for himself since the fire. “What are you doing over here?”

“What do you think I’m doing?” Suguru asks, a bit muffled, except it doesn’t sound like Suguru anymore. It sounds like someone taking hold of his best friend’s body and puppeting his mouth in a droning, lifeless monotone. “Trying to smoke.”

“Smoking at a funeral is classy,” snorts Satoru, walking until he is right next to him. There’s a frantic click, the sound of chattering teeth, and blue eyes fall to his best friend. Suguru’s hands are shaking around the lighter, and Satoru reaches over to steady his hand, clamping his entire fist over Suguru’s so that he can’t keep trying. A cigarette hangs, twitching, between Suguru’s trembling lips. Satoru’s gut drops. “Suguru, you know you can’t do that here.”

Suguru drops his hand away, but he doesn’t keep trying to ignite the butt of the smoke pinched between his teeth. “Why not? Who’s going to tell me to stop? Shoko?”

“Well, no, but…” Satoru struggles to put what he wants to say into words. “You’re the righteous one, Suguru. Preach about the side effects of smoking, and how it’ll kill you if you keep being careless. All the nasty shit like cancer and getting ugly really fast, and…” When did it get so hard to talk to him? “Besides, they taste awful.”

“Awful,” echoes Suguru, putting his cigarette back into his box. “Right. I dunno. I’ve tasted shittier things.” His boots shift in the crust of snow, and he sighs, breath misting. A beat. Then, he tosses the box of cigarettes towards Satoru who snatches it mid-air, tucking it and his hands into his jacket pockets. He glances back to make sure he won’t trip, before he backs up and finds himself a seat on a headstone. Resting his ankle on his knee, Satoru lets his shoulders slump forward.

Suguru sighs, looking up at the sky. “I’m getting hungry.”

“You’ve lost some weight,” Satoru says, peering over his sunglasses. “An appetite is good.”

“I guess that’s true.” Suguru tilts his head over his shoulder, and a faint curve at his mouth makes him only look more tired. “I didn’t eat this morning. I felt too full.”

To be fair, Satoru barely managed to keep a bowl of oatmeal down. “Do you want to get something to eat?” 

“We should probably wait for the rest of ‘em.”

“Fuck it. They won’t miss us too much.”

“Kuroi-san might. She brought me those packets of soy milk cartons… and I said I’d get them later.” Suguru looks away again, and Satoru does not feel like he’s sitting two feet away from Suguru. He is sitting across a stormy ocean and his best friend is a speck in the distance, so impossibly far to reach. He could scream himself bloody, and Suguru would not turn around. “She said now that Riko’s dead, there’s no one else who’ll drink them, but she keeps buying the stuff out of habit.”

“She’ll understand. You could give some to your sisters.”

“The twins don’t like soy milk. My parents only buy it for me ‘cause I’m the only one who drinks it. They keep fucking asking me…” Suguru shakes his body out, his hair sliding over his shoulders in dull ripples of black before turning to look at Satoru. “Nevermind, yeah, why don’t we get something to eat.”

Satoru drives Suguru’s car for the first time on that day, and they eat, and drink, and it’s almost normal.

It’s almost untouched by death.

Except everywhere Suguru goes, the air decays, and Satoru breathes every second of it in. Suguru is Satoru’s shadow, but Satoru’s light is fading the longer he looks at his best friend struggling to even think about his next moment. He knows the he doesn’t mean to ruin everything. It’s partly Satoru’s fault, too—every time he looks at Suguru, all he can imagine is Riko and how she’s dead.

They walk the streets, chatting idly about nothing, until a store catches Suguru’s eye.

“Follow me,” he says, grabbing Satoru’s hand, and pulling him into the store. Letting out a surprised noise, he grabs onto his sunglasses and lets Suguru pull him into the store. Suguru grins at all the dispensers and aisles of the different candy, and grabs his wallet, turning to the white-haired boy. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, bemused.

“You like candy, don’t you? Sweet-tooth.” Disappearing between the shelves of the convenience store, Suguru picks packets off the shelves, and drops them into a basket he’s snatched. “I’ve been an ass,” he acknowledges, “but you’re sticking by me, so I gotta repay you.”

“I’d stick by your sorry ass even after death,” Satoru says, and means it more than he thinks. Suguru’s smile flickers, and the cracked sternum Satoru has been living with since he got the call of smoke circling the sky at his school, aches like an old knee in the rain. His heart sags. “You’re my best friend.”

“I know.”

“I know you know. I just wanna remind you,” he answers. “And don’t pay for this shit. Pay me back for something that really matters. Not money. I’ve got enough of that to last a lifetime, alright?” 

Suguru nods. “Alright.”

What Satoru doesn’t know is that when his best friend goes home that afternoon, he pours the three-quarters full soy milk down the sink, and leaves his house, empty carton in hand.

[FIVE YEARS LATER, AT THE SAME TIME]

“You said your boyfriend was coming?”

“Mhm, yeah.”

“One matcha latté, one iced americano, and one iced vanilla latté.”

“Thank you.” You watch as the server unloads their drinks onto the table, throat too tight to even speak, and you stare at your matcha so you don’t have to look up at the man sitting across from you, watching with an unreadable gaze. It makes you want to squirm out of your skin, to find out what it looks like when he looks at you when he thinks you’re not watching. “He’s late,” Sukuna observes.

“He had repetoire that ended at twelve-thirty,” you reply. “It’s on the other side of campus.”

“So, he’s a dancer?”

You nod, your phone tight in your hands underneath the table. Struggling not to glance at your screen, you finally look up at Sukuna who takes a sip of his drink. He looks the same. Same pink hair, same chiselled face that’s only grown sharper with age, same cropped length and big build and strong jaw, observant eyes that seem to catch everything, even when it doesn’t look like he’s looking.

Your heart aches, and you cup your drink, hoping the iciness will melt into your burning hands.

“How did you guys meet?” he asks casually.

“School project.”

“Your music stuff, right?”

Another nod. He clears his throat.

“If I thought I’d do all the talking, I would’ve done this over a phone call,” he remarks dryly, and your eyes meet his. He half-smiles wryly, and arches a dark eyebrow. “You used to be really talkative with me.”

“It’s been five years, Sukuna. Don’t you think that that sort of time should allow for some sort of rust?”

“True,” he allows. “Still.”

“Are we just going to keep dancing around the subject?” you breathe softly, and his eyes widen just barely. Sukuna tries to make himself hard to read, but you hate that even now you can see what guilt looks like. He looks away, expression darkening. “Isn’t that why you asked to meet up with me? So we can talk about this stuff?”

“I tried. You insisted that whole time that it was fine. I kept asking you if we were okay, and every time you said that it was water under the bridge,” he reminds you evenly. “That’s what you said.”

“I didn’t mean it. I was trying to fucking cope and not lose you as my friend.” You shake your head just as the door chimes to signify a new arrival. “We were friends, but… Sukuna, I—“

“Sunbeam,” a voice interrupts, and you tear your eyes away to see a familiar shape walking over. He’s dressed in loose clothes, and he carries his gym bag. Sweat sticks to his skin, and you wonder if he ran all the way here as he lets out a breath, shoulders rising and falling rapidly. You scoot over and he slides into the booth with you, kissing your temple. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you whisper, and he scans your expression before smiling and turning to look at the third person at the table. Sukuna’s eyes narrow at the intruder, sizing him up, and you place a hand on Suguru’s leg still pulsing with energy. “Uh, introductions. Getou Suguru, meet…” and the name catches but you swallow and bear it, “Ryomen Sukuna.”

“Nice to meet you,” Suguru says, and his hand clasps on your own comfortingly. Sukuna smiles.

“Nice to meet you, too. (Name)’s told me a little about you. All good things.”

Suguru grins, but it’s not warm like you’re used to. His hand squeezes tighter, and your heart rots at the anger behind his eyes. “I’m sure she’s lying.”

If Sukuna notices, he doesn’t comment on it. 

“This is yours,” you say, taking the vanilla latté and dragging it over to him, and he thanks you quickly before taking a sip. Your mind is a whirl, any thought you wanted to voice disappearing into fine sand. When Sukuna had texted you to set this meeting up, you had been with Suguru at a park sharing bottles of ramune and street food they had bought, and in between sweet strawberry kisses and the feeling of his hand on your face, you remember when he convinced you that he’d behave well if he came with you, how you let him take your phone to formulate a response with your approval.

You admit, knowing that Suguru’s so protective over you comforts your nerves more than Yuuta would’ve. After all, Sukuna doesn’t know a thing about Suguru, and Suguru has a flair of creating more game plans than needed. They have the advantage.

Suguru will keep you on the straight and narrow. He’ll keep you focused. He’ll…

“Baby,” he whispers in your ear, and you blink, looking at him. He tilts his head. “You feeling okay?”

You quickly nod. “Mhm.”

He observes you for a moment, disbelieving. Then, he kisses you forehead and you force yourself to pay attention to the conversation at hand. Suguru’s gaze flashes between the two of you, and a tug at your stomach forces you to smile at him.

“So, anything you want to talk about?” you ask politely.

“Well, tell me what you’ve been up to for the past few years. It’s been a while.”

“Nothing, really,” you reply. “Just university.”

“Music?”

“Yeah.” You look down at your drink and Sukuna chuckles. “Mostly composing, songwriting, that kind of stuff. I dabble in production.”

“She’s the best in her program,” Suguru says. You shoot him a skeptical look. “What?”

“You’re biased because I’m your project partner,” you tell him but he shakes his head.

“No, I’m not. You just are.”

“Suguru—“

“I believe him,” Sukuna inputs, tearing two pairs of eyes away from each other. “You practiced until your fingers bled for every school event. I remember you would bring your guitar to classes, and I’ve got a few bruises to count for it falling on me.”

“It was an accident every time,” you shoot back, your smile turning more genuine. “And I’m sure the bruises have disappeared by now.”

“A concussion or two…”

“Shut up,” you snap. “You’re always so dramatic. I always wondered why all the girls fell for your mystery when, really, you’re a big crybaby.”

“Says you.”

“(Name) being a crybaby?” Suguru cuts in, voice neutral. He gazes at you, eyebrows arched. “I don’t believe it.”

“She’s a big crybaby,” Sukuna affirms, the corner of his mouth pulling up slightly. His eyes narrow and you’re taken aback by the fondness there. “Every time we watched a sad video or read a tragedy in class, I had to ready the tissues, and that time she cried because someone pushed me down the stairs… or that other time when you thought Kashimo was trying to kill me…”

“He was trying to kill you because his girlfriend broke up with him for you,” you complain, face heating up. Leaning forward, you glare at him. “You showed up to class with a black eye.”

“Badge of honour.”

You shake your head, your lips twitching into a smile before you realize what you’re doing and you blink, drawing back and crossing your arms over your chest. Sukuna notices immediately, and you glance at Suguru who’s staring hard into his vanilla latté. Clearing your throat, you reach for his arm, and your boyfriend glances at you, pasting a smile on immediately at your concerned expression.

“We got all our drinks. Why don’t we get some air?” he suggests, eyes never leaving yours. He reaches to take your hand, and squeezes it tightly. You nod, and the three of them rise together. Sukuna moves to help you with your jacket, but Suguru reaches across you, snatches his wrist, grinning ear to ear—so wide you’re sure his cheeks hurt. You freeze.

“I got it,” he says, on the edge of snapping, and you watch his knuckles blanche.

If it hurts, Sukuna shows no sign of it. His eyes dart to Suguru’s, and there’s a moment of tense silence before the former draws back.

“Right. Force of habit,” the pink-haired man murmurs, his eyes flitting to you. You clear your throat as Suguru takes your jacket, helping you put it on before taking hold of your tote bag and helping it onto your shoulder. You smile, taking hold of your matcha before grabbing Suguru’s hand. He hauls his gym bag onto his shoulder and drains his vanilla latté before scooting out of the booth and following Sukuna out of the café. You pause, and Suguru looks back when he realizes you aren’t following.

You walk up to him, placing a hand on his chest tentatively. “Hey,” you whisper, kissing his lips. His eyes widen at the PDA, but you only flash him a supportive smile. “I like you.”

“I know,” he murmurs. “I just don’t know you like he does. I feel out of my depth.”

“You don’t need to,” you assure him quickly. “He knows someone I’m not anymore.” His gaze searches yours, and you step closer. “Suguru, we can leave now. We don’t have to keep hanging out with him. I know it’s not fair to put you in this position and I’d rather cut him off than make you any more uncomfortable than you already are.”

“He makes you happy,” he whispers. You open your mouth to protest, but he shakes his head. “I can tell. Talking to someone who knew you, a different version of you and maybe the person you were born as, I like seeing you so… differently. I wish I could show you what I was like when I was in highschool before Riko died.” He lifts his head to brush his lips against the crown of your head. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to lie.”

“I’m not. I don’t have to lie around you.” He dips his head and their mouths slot together. Your eyes slide shut as his fingers brush along your jaw. The feeling of his soft mouth against yours makes everything wipe from your head for just a second until he pulls away, and his knuckle brushes along your face. You feel the beads of his ring against your skin, and you turn to look at his hand.

His counterpart ring sits there, and you take a sip of your matcha latté, smiling. 

“You’re so cute,” he mumbles, kissing your temple, and you look up at him. “Let’s not keep him waiting.”

“Okay.” This time, you take the lead out the café and you push open the door to see Sukuna outside, sucking on a vape. He blows out the smoke, and you arch an eyebrow at the device in his hand which he pockets hastily. He notes your judgemental look, and shrugs facetiously.

“Better than cigarettes, isn’t it? You always fought me on that stuff.”

“Whatever. At least it smells better,” you reply, and they start to walk back towards the buildings where you and Suguru have your next classes just in case you need to make a hasty exit. You think of the benches near the studios, and mention that as your destination. 

Sukuna agrees. Suguru is silent.

You walk between them, hand-in-hand with Suguru. Their arms swing, and you lean into him as you talk to Sukuna. It’s much easier than everything betrays, and a part of you revolts at it. How can you stand there, listen to Sukuna talk about taking in his younger half-brother after his grandfather died, how that changed his life (when, a bitter part of you comments, you couldn’t), and act like this is all normal?

Suguru wraps an arm around your shoulders, and you hold onto his wrist as they near their destination.

“So, that’s why you and Itadori-kun have different last names,” you comment. “I haven’t met him or Megumi, but I’ve heard a little bit about them.”

“He and Megumi might be applying to university here.”

“Yeah, I heard.”

“Do you have any siblings, Getou-san?” Sukuna asks casually, and your boyfriend glances over.

“I have two little sisters. Twins. They’re a bit younger than your brother, though.” Suguru’s tone warms. “I have to take care of ‘em a lot, but it’s nice to have people depend on you, y’know.”

“I get that. I’m still new to taking care of him,” the other man admits, scratching his jaw. “But I guess I’m lucky to have skipped the part where he was younger.”

“Or, unlucky,” Suguru murmurs. Sukuna’s eyebrows furrow together, and you’re about to interject when someone saves you from that.

“Getou!” a voice cuts in, and the three of them look to see a woman approaching. A water bottle in hand and dressed in a leotard and a pair of thin joggers, Utahime approaches. She swipes the longer ends of her fringe out of her face back behind her ears and you raise a hand in greeting. “(Name). And, stranger.”

“Sukuna,” you supply, and Utahime eyes the man before turning to your boyfriend. Sukuna just stares back, silent.

“Are you coming to the drop-in tonight?” she asks instead, and you catch Sukuna taking another hit of his vape, blowing it over his shoulder away from you. He catches you staring and you roll your eyes.

“I dunno. I might have plans with the girlfriend,” your boyfriend answers. Utahime glances at you, but you only shrug and she lets out an annoyed sigh. “Why?”

“I’m trying to get a good grasp on who’s showing up. Some of the first years might be there early because they’re afraid of us, and if they’re gonna take up space, I wanna show up with a partner, and see if we can find a corner for ourselves just to make sure.”

“I think there’s a good reason to be afraid,” you say, smiling a little. Utahime huffs. “They see the fourth year with the scary face scar and they think they’re gonna get their asses handed to them.”

“They will if they’re anything close to cocky around me. So?” This, at Suguru.

“I can come for a bit before if you really need the manpower,” he relents. “I’m not really interested in the drop-in this week.”

“Why not?” you ask, sipping on your latté that’s mostly ice by now. “Not your style?”

“Just busy with other things.” Redirecting at Utahime, he runs a thumb underneath his bag strap. “Isn’t it a pas de deux?”

“Yeah. I thought we could partner if you came.”

“I think Choso mentioned he was going,” Suguru offers. “It won’t be too bad if he shows up.”

“I’ll shoot him a text.” Utahime glowers. “I’d rather die than pair up with a first year.”

“I know,” you murmur sympathetically, and she smiles grimly. “You’ll be fine. You’re great at dancing.”

“So are you, or so I’ve heard.” Winking, she takes a quick swig of water. Your mouth drops open, but she moves on to Getou before you can question her. “By the way, some of us were working on the Christmas showcase if you wanna come in early. When I left, Cygnets just started, but if you show up, they can probably shove you into the schedule before class starts.”

“You told her about…” You gesture vaguely and Suguru half-shrugs, looking at everyone except you. “What the fuck, dummy?”

“It was so romantic, I couldn’t help myself,” he says aloofly, but you grab his chin and make him look at you. He grins into your fingers. “What?”

“Dummy,” you repeat, squishing his cheeks. He surges forward to kiss between your eybrows and you screw up your face before he’s pulling back, smug. You let go of him, turning to look at Utahime. “Is anyone working on their projects with the music program?”

“Some fourth years are, but mostly it’s stuff we’ve got from our classes,” she answers. “I don’t think anyone’s doing their project piece.”

“We are,” Suguru says proudly. 

“Really?”

“I haven’t even seen it,” you lament. “He won’t let me until it’s perfect.” You squeeze Suguru’s wrist hanging over your shoulder to grab your attention. “You should go practice, y’know.”

He frowns, eyes flicking over your shoulder. “You sure? Our classes don’t start for another forty-five minutes.” You smile, nodding. “But—“

“Trust me,” you whisper. “I really wanna see that dance, and… maybe some things we can only say when we’re alone.” Your stomach cramps in doubt, but you stubbornly ignore it, cupping his face. “I’ll be just fine, baby.” He snatches a kiss from your palm before pulling you close by the shoulders and kissing your hairline. “I’ll text you.”

“Promise.”

“Yeah.”

Utahime clears her throat, and the two look at her. “I’m going back inside with or without you, Getou.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he complains. “Such a pain.”

“I’ll beat your ass.”

“Actually, you cannot do that,” Suguru replies, his hand slipping off your shoulders. You grab hold, and he flashes you one last quick smile, one that spells out every emotion you cannot name just quite yet, and he squeezes your hand, pressing a quick kiss to your knuckles before following Utahime. You watch him enter the building. He turns around and waves through the glass doors and you laugh to yourself, waving back.

It’s when he fully disappears that Sukuna speaks, and it nearly makes you jump. 

He blows a trail to the sky, and says, “So, you and Getou-san seem pretty close.”

“We’re dating. I’d hope we were close,” you retort, looking to watch the smoke disappear. The weather’s mostly clear, a darker clouds dotting the sky. Sukuna inhales deeply, and you look over at him to see if he’s taking another hit, but he isn’t. “You don’t have to stay with me. Class doesn’t start for a while.”

“I don’t really have anywhere to be. I cleared my schedule.”

“For me?” You intend for it to come out sarcastic, but Sukuna nods seriously. You scoff, heading for the nearby bench. “I was joking.”

“It’s been a long time, and I wanted to get to know you again.” You sit down, and he sits at the end of the bench, leaning forward onto his knees. The distance between them is a canyon. “Now that we’re in the same place, I thought… maybe there was a chance we could go back to being friends like when we were kids.”

Your hands in your lap tighten into fists. “Sukuna, I…”

“I know it’s my fault we grew apart. A lot of things happened between us,” he acknowledges deliberately, slowly, “but we were kids. And we’re grown ups now, and it would be nice for us to be friends again.”

You shake your head. “It’s a bad idea.”

“It can’t be this bad that you even refuse to look at me.”

“No, it can be. I can’t be friends with you. This was nothing but a courtesy between whatever used to be between us,” you tell him flatly. His eyebrows knit together and you clench your fists tighter, trying not to recall the days after where you had laid in bed, listless and afraid for your body. “I don’t understand how you could even suggest that. Did you really have no idea how much you hurt me? Did you even stop to… did you even care half as much as I did about what happened that night?”

“Of course I did, but…” A restrained groan. “You don’t know how many nights I spent replaying that day over and over, knowing it was a mistake, and hating myself for ever hurting you.”

“Maybe it was a mistake to you, but it happened, and all you ever did was run away from it when I just wanted to… to know why.” You glare at him and hope it is as scalding as you want it to be. “I liked you. I had feelings for you, and you just stepped all over them like it was nothing. It may have been years ago but to me, it still… everything inside me still hurts. I feel so ugly all the time because of you.”

At least he has the grace to sound genuinely remorseful and look you in the eye. Too bad you can’t stomach it. You wrench your stare into your lap. “I’m sorry. If I knew about your feelings, I would’ve never done that.”

Your legs go numb.

 Your knees feel weak and useless, just bone weights inside your flesh. You don’t think you can stand, despite how much you want to run. 

You can only speak. “You didn’t… know…?”

Sukuna’s eyes do not meet yours. He stares at a distant point in the pavement. “Hurting you was the last thing I ever wanted. If I’d known, I’d have been more careful and clear with my intentions, or stopped myself. I thought both of us knew what we were doing, but I was wrong. I normally have good judgement, you know that, but when it came to you, everything felt more uncertain. One thing led to another, and it kept going until I couldn’t stop. I made a mistake, you had no part in it, and—“

“Stop calling it that!” You snap your gaze to his, and his eyes narrow at your outburst, but you don’t care about his judgement anymore. Not at this moment. You hope never again. “How can you keep calling it that? It wasn’t a mistake to me. I thought… I thought you actually had feelings for me, but you just used me.” Shooting to your feet, you turn your face away just in case you start crying and Sukuna gets to his feet slower, his fingers reaching for your wrist. You yank yourself away from him, whipping around and stumbling back, clutching your hand to your chest.

“That’s not what happened.”

“Tell me then. Tell me what happened, because you broke my heart, Sukuna! You tore down everything I ever believed in and washed your hands of it. Of me.” You clutch onto the front of your shirt where your heart feels like it’s spilling out blood between your fingers and step closer to him, teeth gnashing together. “All my friends want me to hate you, you know? And you deserve it, but I can’t. You’re doing so well for yourself, and you seem like you’ve grown a lot, and you’ve always been smart and you have everything you ever wanted, so I should hate you. I’m still stuck here, pitying myself for ever falling for you but I just can’t hate you because I have this stupid hope that maybe something happened, that it wasn’t me, and that maybe you could’ve loved me, too. After all these years, if you’d come even two months earlier, I would’ve given you another chance, and you make me feel stupid! So tell me! Tell me what I did wrong that night!”

“Nothing. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Your throat swells shut in pain, and your eyes burn as you grit your teeth. “A part of me just knew that if I went to find you, I wouldn’t have been able to let you go,” he murmurs in a way that feels less like a confession and more like a poison. Cold water dumps over you, and your eyes widen as he sighs, resting his hands on your shoulders. The first drop of rain lands on your nose, and you blink, letting out a confused, mumbled huh, and shrinking back away from him. Suddenly, you feel so small. “You’re too good for me, you know. Look at you. You can’t even hate me.”

The rain comes harder and harder until it begins to mist, and you squint against it as something burns down your face. Your clothes begin to slick against your skin. “Sukuna…”

“You’re an idiot with a big heart,” he points out, smiling at the tears racing down your face and lifting a hand to brush them away. Your face is hot with shame. How can he tell you’re crying? Are you not as unreadable as you want to be? He’s the reason you tried to be like this, and you’re still failing. “My annoying crybaby. I didn’t want to care about you, but you just… kept trying and trying, and how could I help myself?” His tone strains with something older, something born before you ever knew him. It sounds like he’s in agony, but trying to stifle it, and it punches you in the gut. “You know what I learned on that drive home after everything we did together? That I’d ruin you.”

“I could’ve fixed you. I would’ve helped,” you whisper, voice trembling, and he chuckles, the sound cold and warm both. “Why didn’t you let me?”

“Because you can’t fix people, (Name). You can try, but you just can’t. I didn’t want your help back then. I knew what you wanted, and I couldn’t be that.” He brushes his hair back, and it’s so rain-slick the droplets that cling to his hand fall back onto you when he cups your face in his hands. “You couldn’t have fixed me. I didn’t want to be fixed, and the only good thing I could do was leave you alone.” At this, regret flickers over his face like a passing shadow, but it’s gone before you can be too sure, and he glances at the doors of the building. Sukuna chews on his cheek for a moment before finding your face again. “You’re a good person, with a good boyfriend who cares about you. I’m not here to spout shit about how I want you. Any sane motherfucker would want you.”

“You didn’t.”

He takes in your face with that intense stare that used to light a fire in you, and perhaps you imagine the way his eyes glance at your lips, but he only steps back, lets his hands fall away. Your eyes fall to the pavement, and you grimace against the tears that pour down your cheeks.

Sukuna’s breath had smelled like strawberries. 

He sounds very far away. “Yes, I did. And I’m fucking insane.”

“No, you’re not.” His eyes brand you where they touch your cheek, but you won’t look up. “You were good to me. Why else do you think I liked you?”

“I don’t know. Still think you’re crazy for that,” he laughs bitterly. “Either way, (Name), I’m here to stay. It’s up to you to do with that what you wish.”

“And if I want you to leave me alone? If I want us to be strangers, and we never speak again,” you demand shakily. “I do have a good boyfriend, and he takes priority over everything—anything—we might have between us.”

“Then… I’ll leave you alone.” It sounds so simple that way, but when you look at him, it is not raining anymore. They are standing in their high school uniforms, and it is sunny, and he is grinning ear-to-ear, and you are smiling, too. 

Oh, how you loved him, and how a part of you wants to love him again. This infernal boy, and the years of your youth spent imagining your life with him. 

Sukuna stands there, a broken image. Had he always been made of shards of glass so sharp you can feel each point digging into your lungs? Can you only see it now because of the cuts he’s inflicted on you that still ache in the rain? You want to reach out for him, but your hand will bleed. You know it will. So why does he still look like a piece you can fit into your life puzzle? A stained glass mosaic that can only be whole as long as you’re the one with the welding stick?

There is something wrong with him, he knew that, but you wonder if Sukuna ever realized there must be something wrong with you, too, to have a part of you still want him.

He half-turns away, and then, as if remembering something, he stops, and he doesn’t look at you, but you hear him just as clearly anyway, over the pounding heart, the thundering rain. “I really did want you, (Name). I just didn’t know how to love you the way you deserved to be.”

With that, for the second time in your life, Sukuna walks away.

.

“Hey, you good?” Mei Mei asks as she sits down next to you in class. You glance at her, and paste on a smile as convincingly as you can before nodding. You won’t admit that after he walked away from you, you had sat down on that bench and cried until you wouldn’t burst into tears in a classroom where someone you know could see.

“I just got caught in the rainstorm. That’s all.” Looking out the window, you try not to think about how you’re soaking wet from head to toe, how you should be shivering, but instead your stomach is in knots, and your neck is burning from where Sukuna’s fingers had held you. Your phone buzzes, you glance at your phone screen, and you hate how your heart twists when you see the name that’s waiting for you there.

When class ends, Suguru is already waiting outside, and you eye him warily, hoping your eyes aren’t swollen anymore. You hate the idea of him knowing you’ve cried.

“How are you here already?” you ask, confused. “Your class ends at the same time as mine.”

“I asked to leave a couple of minutes early,” he answers. The rest of your classmates file out behind you, and he takes your arm which is dry and warm, now, and guides you a little further down the hall. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Hey, hey. No. Don’t lie to me,” he urges. “I’m sorry I left you alone with him. It was on my mind during class, and I had to find you.” His tone is so apologetic, so hateful towards himself that you take his arms, rub his biceps but he runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “You didn’t answer my texts. I don’t know what I was thinking leaving you there with him.”

“We just talked about the past and we’re… we got closure. I’m fine. I’m not mad at you, and I’m the one who told you to go, so please don’t feel bad about it,” you say, which isn’t an entire lie. He scans your face, and you cup the side of his neck, slanting your head to press a quick kiss against his mouth. His eyes flutter shut, and he chases after you for another reassuring kiss. His arm curves around your waist, and he’s so warm you can’t help but shuffle into his chest, let him bury you into his body. You rest your chin on his shoulder as he lifts you up a little, swinging you in his embrace.

When he finally sets you down, he settles his hands on your hips and sighs. “I pulled my car around and I can drive you back to your place, if you’d like?” he asks, and you nod, taking hold of his wrists and stepping away. He interlocks their fingers. “I’ll buy you dinner later, too, and bubble tea.”

“You don’t have to—“

“No arguments, baby,” he says, “not today.” Your eyes soften, and you take in his glare, the way his jaw muscle keeps twitching. “I hate that I left you with him.”

“Stop it, I’m happy that you’re with me, and that’s all that matters. You’re a good boyfriend, who didn’t have to go through with all this shit today.” Squeezing his hands, you step closer and loop your arms around his neck. His lips barely brush against yours as you whisper, ‘Thank you.”

“I just want you to be happy,” he breathes, eyelashes dusting his cheeks as he closes his eyes, breathing you in. His palms rest on your hips, and his fingers dig in gently. “I really like you, (Name). I…”

Your heart is a stone in a river. Each current seeps into the cracks of it like silk, smooths the jagged edges, like a cool tide has soothed a burn that long has consumed your body, and you relax against him, fitting your mouth to his. He immediately raises a hand to cup the back of your head, and your eyes close, letting him use his other arm snaking around your waist to turn you around and gently guide you back until your heel hits the wall. Your shoulders follow suit, and his hand at the back of your head cushions your skull against the concrete wall. His entire body presses against yours, so lean and hot against your own you can feel his body heat bleed into your clothes.

You let out a sharp gasp. He pulls back immediately, his gaze full of worry. “Are you okay? Is this okay?”

And for some reason, your day, which has been fraught with nerves, exhaustion, and stress, feels like it’s all been leading to this moment where Suguru has you against the wall, your thoughts quiet and docile, your entire world for once not on guard or ready to attack.

You look at Suguru. He’s so beautiful. So beautiful it nearly hurts to look at him.

“I like you, too, idiot,” you mumble, grabbing the front of his hoodie, and yanking him into your mouth. He lets out a surprised noise but it disappears as he catches himself, his free hand by your ear, planted flat against the wall. Breathless and dizzy, you hungrily feast on his lips, and he gasps into your tongue before slipping his own tongue into your mouth.

Your stomach shivers and clenches, and he tears himself away, panting. Your body yearns for more, and your hands fall to his waist, fistfuls of hoodie twisting in your grasp as he assuages you with one last kiss, and then another, before pulling back.

“You okay?” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your nose. Your eyes fall to rest on his plump pink mouth as you keep his hips close. He moves the hand on the wall to your jaw, and he tilts your head up, dark eyes searching yours curiously. You feel like you’re not quite attached to your body, in some sedated far off land, but it’s a good kind of empty. “If that was your way of lifting my mood, it worked.”

“Partly,” you admit. “I like kissing you, too, so it was an added bonus.”

He chuckles. “Good. I like kissing you, too.”

Suguru kisses the corner of your mouth, and you smile, but it falls away a moment later as you look down at his body, so poised and not moving an inch under your control. You can feel his lungs expanding against your knuckles, the way his abdomen clenches and releases. He’s caging you in against the wall, but there’s not a moment where you can’t slip past him and leave. 

What is the word for when an animal is willingly trapped in a cage? Is it domestication, or something far more unexplainable than that?

Suguru’s eyes watch your every movement, and his voice is unbearably tender as he asks after a moment of silence, “Are you alright?”

“I think kissing you was for me, too,” you admit at length, looking back up at him. His eyebrows twitch together in silent questioning. You sigh. “Seeing him doing so well hurts so much. He knows exactly who he is, whether or not he likes it, and I’m still here, feeling like that kid from highschool who doesn’t know what she’s doing. Why can’t I do anything with this feeling?”

“I don’t know, baby.” His thumb strokes your cheekbone. Suguru draws back to give you room, and you step away from the wall. Your hand interlaces with his, and you hold his wrist with your free hand, keeping close as possible to him. 

His grip pulses gently as they begin to walk out of the building. Their steps fall into time against the linoleum floors, and your head feels strangely quiet, but not empty anymore, in his presence. All your swirling thoughts, all the trains of what had just happened, the memories replaying over and over like a broken recorder—it all comes to molasses speed.

You feel exhausted. 

“When Riko died, I don’t think I was alive for a good year,” he says suddenly as they descend down the steps. Suguru’s one stair in front, holding on as if he’s afraid you’ll fall while he’s ready to catch you. “I didn’t really know what I was doing during that time. The teachers were only understanding because I was a top student, and now, I couldn’t even bother to show up to class, but I was also there on scholarship and scouting, so I had to eventually go back if I wanted to keep going to school there at all. Two weeks after the fire, I started going to class again, but I can’t really recall a single thing they taught me.”

You’re silent as you walk after him, and as they reach the landing, you snake your free arm around his, walking beside him again.

“I’m still trying to figure out who I am, and whether or not that’s something worth becoming, y’know. Five years doesn’t mean shit because I don’t remember half of it,” he continues. “I smoke, and don’t know if I’ll make it to thirty, and who the fuck knows what’ll happen tomorrow.” He shrugs and your eyes flit to his side profile. He stares ahead, relaxed, a relaxed smile on his face. “But… I’ve got good friends, two little sisters to spoil, a girlfriend I love being around.” His head lolls to meet your gaze, and his smile grows. Your cheeks begin to heat up. “If I don’t know if I wanna be alive, they can help.”

Your heart drops. “Suguru.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not suicidal or anything.” He smiles. “My point is, you don’t need to know anything for sure, by the way. We’re young. ’S long as you let me hang around, I’ll help you, baby. I promise.”

And for a second, it’s there.

Three fleeting words that tumble out of your throat, onto your tongue, and lie there so tauntingly. All you’d need to do is breathe life, and look Suguru in the eye, and tell him something you want to say. The impulse lives and breathes like pure fire, a giant crashing swell that overflows inside of you. The overwhelming sensation feels like it’s surrounding everything, every action you make as their arms swing a little, and he fishes an umbrella out of his bag with one hand, and oh… what other word could it be but love?

Or your own fictionalized idea of love. Who are you to know what love is? Maybe you don’t even know what the feeling you crave actually is. Love is a sweet poison, Sukuna taught you that, so why do you feel so full and warm, like you’d never starve in winter again?

You bite your tongue and look away, ignoring how your heart is aching so deeply you feel it in your gut. Oh, this love hurts, too. You think your world is crumbling beneath your feet as you rasp out, “Thank you, Suguru.”

“Of course, baby.” His index finger curls underneath your chin and a soft, gooey kiss guides your body. You close your eyes and let him kiss you, press your tongue against his own gentle one, and he kisses your tongue, your bottom lip, every inch of your mouth he can taste in a slow dance. It feels intimate, weirdly vulnerable, as if you’re standing naked in front of the whole school, but when Suguru pulls away, eyes cloudy and he lets out a breath that puffs against your skin, you don’t feel cold.

You swallow, lips parting as you try to wrap your head around the amount of times he’s kissed you in a span of twenty minutes, but he only smiles.

Tearing his eyes away and wrapping an around you, he kisses your temple, and doesn’t move to touch you further. You can’t help but sneak your own arm around his waist, rubbing your head against his shoulder.

“What do you wanna eat for dinner?” you ask, looking up at him. He pushes open the door to reveal the downpour that nearly overwhelms your voice, but he extends the umbrella, tucking you in close to him and stepping out into the misting torrent. 

“I wanna take a nap first,” he admits, “so I’ll be out of commission for a bit. You can do homework until you’re hungry and just wake me up.”

“A nap sounds nice after today,” you sigh. “I just changed my sheets, if you… wanna sleep on my bed with me.” He blinks, and you fight the heat crawling up your face, stubbornly looking at the sidewalk to check you’re not stepping ankle deep into a puddle. “Well, I’m just saying. You always fall asleep on the couch, so…”

“Are you sure? It’s not too soon? Or… I, uhm—”

“Take advantage of it before I change my mind, dummy,” you retort, and he wrangles you even closer, his arm curling around your neck so he can make a teasing kissy noise, cheek to cheek. You make a face, pushing him away and walking into the rain, speeding up your pace. He laughs, chasing after you with his hand outstretched, and you hear his sneakers splat against the pavement as you turn around. 

You’re getting soaked, but your smile grows as you grab his hand and yank him so he can shield you from the rain again. 

And this time, when he ducks close to your face, he kisses you properly.

.

The door cracks open, and Maki lets out a relieved breath. Finally. Home and sweet relief after an entire day of nonstop everything.

“(Name), I’m back!” she calls as soon as she enters their apartment. Shuffling her sneakers off in the genkan, she nudges them against the wall so they can have some semblance of organization in their place, but frowns when a pair of black runners that definitely don’t belong to her or her roommate take up a big space. She wrinkles her nose, scowling, but she can’t do anything about it now. You had texted earlier that your boyfriend would be coming over, but that’d been almost six hours ago.

 She stuffs her feet into her slippers and sighs, tossing her keys onto the kitchen counter and dumping her gym bag on one of the stools. Judo practice had been long and brutal, and she definitely needed a cold shower. Texting Yuuta that she made it back home, she sheds every layer of clothes she can, stripping down to her gym shorts and sports bra to cool down as she begins to walk around the kitchen to put her dirty containers from the day in the sink.

You still have to tell her how the whole Sukuna thing went down, although Maki isn’t sure if she has the mental capacity to deal with it right now. Opening the fridge, she pours herself a glass of water before walking into the hall to see what you’re up to. If Suguru’s over, it usually means you’re both in the living room, but seeing as the entire place is dark, Maki has a strange curdling sensation that migrates up her spine.

A memory haunts her still. Of someone showing up at her house, her fucking house of all places, with a tear-stained face, and dark purple under-eyes, and she hopes to whatever god exists, maybe even a little selfishly, that what she finds won’t be what her brain is already imagining.

The room to your door isn’t closed completely, and she tentatively pushes the door open wider to see your blinds wide open, allowing moonlight and a tiny bit of streetlight to come through, illuminating a forgotten laptop resting at the foot of your bed. The blankets are twisted and her eyes trail up the bed to see two figures entwined tightly. An outline of an arm, strands of hair gleaming silver. 

It’s an image that unexpectedly makes Maki’s heart crack, and she bows her head as a soft groan echoes in the room. Gaze snapping back up, she sees one of them shifting and they lift their head lethargically. She’s about to duck out when they reach a long, limber arm to turn on the bedside lamp.

“Maki?” a deeper, hoarse voice calls, and she freezes, eyes darting to a face curtained by messy black hair. Suguru’s squinting against the light, and he clearly’s just woken up (which is probably her fault, but Maki doesn’t entertain the thought). His arm’s trapped under a sleeping you who doesn’t seem to move, but he has you contained in an embrace against his chest. Your face is pressed against the front of his hoodie, and Maki has half a mind to ask how you’re even breathing, but she finds the joking words don’t come out. 

“How is she?” she asks in low tones instead. “That meeting. What are your thoughts on him?”

“I’ve a lot to say,” admits your boyfriend. “But, she handled it really well, so I’m keeping it mostly internal.” He leans back down on the pillow, eyes at half-mast. “Sorry. If you want me to go, I can.”

“It’s fine. I don’t have that permission to do that,” she says. “And you’re not doing anything immediately irritating to my being, so…”

“Thanks.” His face scrunches up. “Did you need anything?”

“Did you eat dinner, yet?”

“No. What time is it?”

“It’s nearly a quarter past eleven.”

“Shit,” he groans. He tosses his free arm over his eyes before reaching for his phone at the nightstand, and swiping it on. “Can I get something delivered here?”

“Yeah, fine.” She takes a sip of water, and as he scrolls the phone, the words she’s wanted to say since they’ve started dating begin to bubble. Maki avoids having one-on-one time with anyone who isn’t someone from her friend group, and standing in a room with Getou Suguru is not her ideal way of spending her evening, but… she needs to say this. She might not ever feel like there’s nothing to lose when she says this ever again.

“I had a lot of doubts about you,” she confesses suddenly. Suguru’s eyes, chips of charcoal, find hers again, “because of Sukuna. I hope now that you’ve met him, you understand why every one of us didn’t like the idea of you dating her at one point or another. A part of me still doesn’t because everything you do is too perfect for my liking.”

“I’m sorry?” He frowns and sets his phone back on the bedside table. “I know she’s your best friend—“

“She’s my sister.” Her grip on her glass tightens, the condensation seeping between her skin and the cup. “That’s why if you pull something like Sukuna did, if you do anything to hurt her, I’ll be the first one to know. And you’ll know I know, because you’ll wake up one day with two broken legs, and you’ll never dance again.”

His eyebrows rise infinitesimally, but after a while, he only lets out a soft breath and an accepting smile, and Maki has the premonition of dread that comes when she’s too far out of her depth. She wants to question that look, the way his eyes don’t glimmer with fear, or even any sort of defiance, only a mellowness that comes from death. Leaning in that slant of silver light, Getou Suguru looks like a ghoul, haunting and not quite alive.

But then, he moves like a human, and sinks back into the pillows, turns his back on her, wrapping you in tightly in a full hug again as he speaks, “Good. I’ll deserve it.” 

Maki’s stomach chills, and she closes the door behind her.

When she wakes up the next morning to you and him in the kitchen together, she watches as Suguru packs his bag, and scrambles eggs, and butters slices of bread for you to toast. And although she’s never noticed it before, there’s a certain dimness, a fading light in Getou’s eyes that only returns whenever he happens to glance at you.

a/n: thank you for reading! leave a comment/rb and let me know your thoughts. catch ya on the flip side

tags: @thelameless @lucyrocks86​ @kentospet @id-rather-be-an-outsider​  @ys2800​ @tuzuis4thwife @pidwidge​ @xbookmanx​ @kaitlyn2907​ @butterfly-skinnylegend​ @rumi-rants​ @bloombb​ @mykyoon​ @waterlily502​ @hanabihwa​ @drunkenlion​